Ml ,^J NIAL LIBRARY OF MEDICINE NLM DD5ST7M5 M ARMY MEDICAL LIBRARY WASHINGTON Foxuaded 1836 Section Number _^-/.?X.-?---*>- Fobm 113c. W. D.. S. G. O. ,T0 3—10543 (RevisedJune 13, 1936) NLM005597454 DUE TWO WEEKS FROM LAST DATE Mug 2 8 ior,;. GPO 248116 PRINCIPLES OF MENTAL PHYSIOLOGY. PRINCIPLES OP MENTAL PHYSIOLOGY, WITH THEIR APPLICATIONS TO THE TRAINING AND DISCIPLINE OF THE MIND, AND THE STUDY OF ITS MORBID CONDITIONS. BY WILLIAM B. CARPENTER, M.D., LL.D., F.R.S., F.L.S., F.G.S., REGISTRAR OF THE UNIVERSITY OP LONDON J CORRESPONDING MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, AND OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY ; DTO. ETC. NEW YORK: D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, 1, 3, and 5 BOND STREET. 1886. VVL TO THE MEMORY OF THE LATE Sir HENRY HOLLAND, Bart., D.C.L.. F.R.S., PRESIDENT OF THE ROYAL INSTITUTION, ETC. ETC. CI)tg Volume t's IBetifcatrtr, AS AN EXPRESSION OF THE AUTHOR'* GRATITUDE FOR BENEFITS DERIVED FROM HIS SCIENTIFIC WRITINGS, HIS WISE COUNSELS, LO AND HIS CORDIAL ENCOURAGEMENT, _£} DURING A FRIENDSHIP OF THIRTY YKAltft TREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. Since the first issue of the following Treatise, the question of " Human Automatism" has largely engaged the attention of that increasing portion of the public mind which interests itself in scientific enquiry. The Address of the eminent Physicist who occupied the Presidential chair at the Belfast Meeting of the British Association, embodied a philosophical creed of which it seems a necessary corollary, that all Mental as well as bodily activity, being the outcome of the " poten- tialities " of Matter, is subject to Physical conditions alone. —The distinguished Biologist who brilliantly expounded at the same Meeting the Cartesian doctrine that "Animals are Automata," explicitly maintained (in direct opposition to Descartes himself) that Man is only a more complicated and variously-endowed Automaton: his bodily actions being determined solely by Physical causes ; the succession of his Mental states depending entirely upon the molecular activi- ties of his Cerebrum; and the movements he is accustomed to regard as expressing his feelings, or as executing his inten- tions, having their real origin in Brain-changes, of which those feelings and intentions are the mere concomitant " symbols viii Preface to the Fourth Edition. in consciousness."*—Professor Huxley'spronunciamento was soon followed by that of an able Mathematician, who brought to that profoundly difficult problem of " Body and Mind " which has exercised the greatest intellects from Aris- totle to J. S. Mill, the training of a skilled athlete, who knocks down with one vigorous blow any opponent unpre- pared for his peculiar mode of attack. Relying exclusively upon Physical experiences, Professor Clifford affirmed without the smallest hesitation,*}- that as the only thing which can possibly be conceived to influence Matter is either the position or the motion of surrounding matter, the state- ment " that the Will influences Matter" is simply "non- sense ;" an affirmation which assumes that Professor Clifford knows all about matter and its dynamical relations, and therefore has an unquestionable right to say that Mankind at large are wrong in the conviction that the movements of their Bodies are in any way directed by their Minds. From the confidence with which what are asserted to be the inevitable conclusions of Physiological science, are now advanced in proof of the doctrine of Human Automatism, it might be supposed that some new facts of peculiar impor- tance had been discovered, or some more cogent deductions drawn from the facts previously known. But after an atten- tive re-examination of the whole question, I find nothing in the results of more recent researches to shake the convic- tion at which I arrived nearly forty years ago, J of the * " Fortnightly Review," November, 1874, p. 577. + "Fortnightly Review," December, 1874, p. 728. X " On the Voluntary and Instinctive Actions of Living Beings," in tua Edinburgh Medical and Surgical Journal, No. 132 (1837). Preface to the Fourth Edition. ix existence of a fundamental distinction, not only between the Rational actions of sentient beings guided by experience, and the Automatic movements of creatures whose whole life ia obviously but the working of a mechanism,—but also between those actions (common to Man and intelligent brutes) which are determined by a preponderating attraction towards an object present to the consciousness, and those (peculiar, as I believe, to Man) in which there is, at one stage or another, that distinct purposive intervention of the self-conscious Ego which we designate Will, whereby the direction of the activity is modified. What modern research seems to me to have done, is to elucidate the mechanism of Automatic action; to define with greater precision the share it takes in the diversified phe- nomena of Animal life, psychical as well as physical; and to introduce a more scientific mode of thought into the Physio- logical part of the enquiry. But in so far as those who profess to be its expositors ignore the fundamental facts of Consciousness on which Descartes himself built up his phi- losophical fabric, dwelling exclusively on Physical action as the only thing with which Science has to do, and repudiating the doctrine (based on the universal experience of mankind) that the Mental states which we call Volitions and Emotions have a causative relation to Bodily changes, they appear to me to grasp only one half of the problem, to see only one side of the shield (§ 2). That the principle of the Conservation of Energy holds good not less in the Living body, than in the Inorganic world, I was myself among the earliest to x Preface to the Fourth Edition. maintain* That in the most powerful Muscular effort which can be called forth by the Human Will, there is no more a creation of Energy than in an Automatic convulsion, I believe as firmly as Professor Clifford. And that the general tendency of modern Scientific research is to extend the domain of Law to every form of mundane change,—the belief in the Uniformity of Causation being now assumed as axiomatic in all scientific procedure,—I recognize as fully as Mr. Herbert Spencer (§ 574). This tendency could not be expressed more forcibly, than in the following citation from Mr. H. Sidgwick's recent Treatise :— "The belief that events are determinately related to the state of things immediately preceding them, is now held by all competent thinkers in respect of all kinds of occurrences except Human Volitions. It has steadily grown both intensively and extensively, both in clear- ness and certainty of conviction, and in universality of application, as the human mind has developed and human experience has been system- atized and enlarged. Step by step, in successive departments of fact, conflicting modes of thought have receded and faded, until at length they have vanished everywhere, except from this mysterious citadel of WiUY't Before enquiring, however, whether there is adequate ground for regarding the Human Will in this exceptional light, it may be well to consider what basis there is for the assumption that the range of Physical Causation extends itself from the sphere of Matter to that of Mind,—in other words, that Moral Causation and Physical Causation are convertible terms. It may be fairly urged, on one side, that the tendency of * " On the Mutual Relations of the Vital and Physical Forces ' Philos Transact., 1850. f "The Methods of Ethics," p. 47. Preface to the Fourth Edition. xi modern Scientific investigation has been to show that a very large proportion (if not the whole) of those changes whose succession constitutes our Mental life, are determinate^ related, on the one hand, to the Mental states which immediately preceded them, and, on the other, to the Material conditions of the Bodily organism. The pure Metaphysician, who studies the " Laws of Thought" in the abstract, as if Man consisted of Mind without Body, no more doubts the former, than the Physiologist, who works upwards from Body to Mind, and studies the successions of Consciousness as functions of the Nervous System, can question the latter. And the Psychologist, whose object (to use the words of Mr. Herbert Spencer) is to elucidate "not the connection between internal "phenomena, nor the connection between external phe- " nomena, but the connection between these two con- " nections," and who studies the relation between Psychical phenomena and Physical conditions through the whole range of the Animal kingdom, interpreting these phenomena by a scientific scrutiny of his own experiences, and applying the knowledge thus gained to the explanation of the actions of organisms whose constitution resembles his own (this enquiry being the special object of the present Treatise), finds him- self irresistibly brought to the conclusion that Automatism* has a very large share in the life of every Human being; and is thus naturally led to question whether there is any part of * In the term " Automatism," as used here and elsewhere, I include not merely those Bodily but those Mental activities, which are determinately related to (or, in other words, are caused by) previous bodily or mental activi« ties, to the exclusion of all cJwice or self-direction on the part of the Ego. xii Preface to the Fourth Edition. Man's action which is exempted from the Law of Physical Causation. The corrective to this view, however, appears to me to be furnished by the intelligent study of that large class of the phenomena of Human Nature, which lies patent to every trained observer in the ordinary course of events. For the more carefully he studies these phenomena, the more clearly is he led to see that, as has been pithily said by Emerson, " Thoughts rule the World;" and that, though the spheres of moral and physical Causation impinge (as it were) upon one another, they are in themselves essentially distinct. The influence of a great Idea conceived by a thinker in his closet, in dominating the action of an entire Nation, is utterly disproportioned to any conceivable play of molecular forces that can be excited by the Physical agency of the thinker in putting his idea into speech or writing. The Moral power of the " thoughts that breathe, and words that burn" in the utterances of the Poet, cannot be correlated, like the mechanical Energy exerted by his muscles in the writing of his verse, with the quantity of food he may have consumed in their production. And the new direction that may be given to the whole course of two lives, by the faintest expression of Emotion in 4 tone, a look, or a touch, cannot be brought to any common measure, either with those Muscular contractions, or with those molecular changes in Nervous matter, which are the Physical causes of its manifestation. But to this it may be replied that, even when we look at Human action from its Mental side, without any regard to Preface to the Fourth Edition. xiii Physical antecedents, we cannot help recognizing in it the principle of Causation by character and circumstances ; and that without the power of prediction which we derive from organized experience, as is well stated by Mr. Sidgwick (Op. cit p. 48), social life would be impossible. But while every one admits the existence of Uniformities in Human action which constitute the basis of our Social fabric, every one also admits that the closest observation of these Uniformities, and the most sagacious analysis of their conditions, does not justify anything more than a " fore- cast" of the course of action, either of individuals or of communities, in any given contingency. "Who would have thought that he would have done such a thing?" is our frequent exclamation in regard to some one of whom we considered that we had a most intimate knowledge: that" the unexpected [in Politics] is what always happens," has passed into a proverb. It is, of course, open for the Automatist to assert that the element of uncertainty here arises, as in the case of weather-forecasts, from the complexity of the con- ditions, and from our imperfect acquaintance with them; and he might fairly urge, on general grounds, that if we could grasp the whole of the antecedents, and measure the potency of each, no " unconditioned" or self-originating element would be found to have interfered with the regular sequence of cause and effect. But he has no right whatever to assume this. The whole history of Science shows that the investigation of " residual phenomena " has been a most fertile means of discovery in regard to agencies not pre- viously suspected. And until it shall have been proved that kjv Preface to the Fourth Edition. there are no Humaa actions which cannot be accounted for by "unconditional sequence," such an assumption cannot be admitted as an adequate disproof of the testimony borne by Human Consciousness to the opposite effect. " It is im- " possible for me to think," says Mr. Sidgwick, (Op. cit. p. 51), " in the moment of deliberate volition, that " my volition is completely determined by my formed cha- '•' racter and the motives acting upon it. The opposite " conviction is so strong as to be absolutely unshaken by " the evidence brought against it. I cannot believe it to be " illusory. * * * No amount of experience of the sway "of motives even tends to make me distrust my intuitive " consciousness, that in resolving after deliberation I exer- " cise free choice as to which of the motives acting on me " shall prevail. Nothing short of absolute proof that this " consciousness is erroneous, could overcome the force with " which it announces itself as certain ; and I cannot perceive " that such proof has been given." It is alleged, indeed, that the belief entertained by all men—except Philosophers—in their own freedom of choice (within certain limits) between different modes of action, is an illusion of ignorant " common sense," which, like the vulgar belief that the sun moves round the earth, is utterly dispelled by the light of Science. But the two beliefs rest upon an entirely different basis. The latter, like other erroneous beliefs which arise in the exercise of our senses, is an inference from the facts of Consciousness, which a more enlarged experience (such as that afforded by almost every railway-journey) shows to be untenable: the Preface to the Fourth Edition. xv former is the immediate affirmation of Consciousness itself, the assurance of which, its constant recurrence under a great variety of conditions only serves to confirm. The direct Testimony of Consciousness as to any one of its primal cognitions, must be held, as it seems to me, of higher account than the deductions of Reason from data nfforded by other cognitions ; constituting, in fact, a " base " of verification " to which all our logical triangulation must be worked back, if we desire to test its validity. And no fact of Consciousness as to which Mankind in general is in accord, can be disproved save by the contradiction afforded by some other primary cognition of superior validity. For, as has been truly said by John S. Mill, " feeling and " thought are much more real than anything else; they " are the only things which we directly know to be "real."* We know nothing about matter, as Berkeley demonstrated, except by inference from the manner in whicli its states affect our consciousness; " itself we do not " perceive; we are not conscious of it." And hence those so-called " experiences," on the basis afforded by which the whole fabric of Physical Science is built up, being really nothing else than " assumptions to account for our sen- " sations " (Mill), can only be accepted as valid, in so far as they accord with those primal cognitions which we cannot dissociate from our own consciousness of personal agency. Thus, for example, when Professor Clifford affirms {loc. cit.) that no interaction can possibly take place between Bodily and Mental states,—the Physical facts going along by them- * "Posthumous Essays," p. 202. xvi Preface to the Fourth Edition. selves, and the Mental facts going along by themselves, on two utterly different platforms,—he calls upon us to receive as the indubitable teaching of Science, the result of a pro- cess of reasoning based upon one set of experiences alone ; notwithstanding that this is completely contradicted by another set, which, as appealing much more directly to our own consciousness, has a stronger claim upon our accept- ance. For all Mankind—except philosophers of Professor Clifford's school—accept it as a fact " based on the normal " experience of healthy men" that running a pin into one's flesh is the cause of that mental state which we call pain (Huxley, Op. cit. p. 574) ; a certain neurosis, or molecular change in the Nervous system, producing a corresponding psychosis, or affection of the Consciousness. And, con- versely, since all Mankind—except the followers of Pro- fessors Huxley and Clifford—accept it as a fact " based on the normal experience of healthy men," that the state of mind which we term Volition is the cause of the muscular movement that gives expression to it—a psychosis pro- ducing the neurosis which calls forth Muscular contraction— I cannot see that this conviction can be nullified by anv inference drawn from an order of facts that is capable of an entirely different interpretation. The doctrine propounded by Professor Huxley in his Belfast lecture, that the feelino- we call Volition is not the cause of the voluntary act, but the " symbol in consciousness " of that state of the Brain which is the immediate cause of that act (like the blowing of the steam-whistle, which signals, but does not cau°se, the starting of the locomotive), and that the strongest Volition Preface to the Fourth Edition. xvii has therefore no power in itself to call forth a movement, seems to me to find its best answer in the explicit statement which he himself put forth not many years previously, that " the belief that our Volition counts for something as a con- " dition in the course of events," is one which " can be " verified experimentally as often as we like to try," and therefore " stands upon the strongest foundation upon 'l which any belief can rest, and forms one of our highest "truths."* When we come to examine the reasons latterly as- signed by Professor Huxley for giving up this assured belief, we find them mainly based on the fact that certain actions which would be ordinarily accounted Volitional (as being initiated by an intentional effort) in Man, can be performed under circumstances which strongly indicate a purely Automatic causation. Thus it has been shown by Goltz, that a Frog from which the Cere- brum has been removed, and which (according to ordinary Physiolo- gical doctrine) has consequently lost the power of voluntary move- ment, will jump when irritated, the direction of this movement being affected by the incidence of light upon its eyes; though making no effort to feed itself, it will swallow food put into its mouth, and may thus be kept alive for weeks or months; and will utter its croak when a particular part of its back is stroked. But further, although, when put on the hand, the Prog sits there crouched, perfectly quiet, and would remain so unless stimulated to action, yet (says Professor Hux- ley) '' if the hand be inclined very gently and slowly, so that the frog " would naturally slip off, the creature's forepaws are shifted on to the " edge of the hand until he can just prevent himself frcm falling. If *' the turning of the hand be continued, he mounts up with great care " and deliberation, putting first one leg forward, and then the other, " until he balances himself with perfect precision upon the edge, and • " Lay Sermons," p. 160. xviii Preface to the Fourth Edition. " in the turning of the hand over he goes through the opposite set of " operations, until he comes to be seated in security upon the back of " the hand."—(Fortnightly Review, Nov. 1874, p. 567). Now, that Man is himself continually making yet more elaborate adjustments of his muscular movements, under circumstances which forbid the idea that they are in any way directed by his Conscious Will, is expressly shown in various parts of the present work. Some of these actions, as coughing (§ 47) and sucking (§ 48), are originally or primarily Auto- matic ; and can be experimentally shown not to depend upon Cerebral instrumentality, except when performed in obedience to a Volitional mandate. Others, as walking erect (§ § 16-18), are originally performed under the conscious purposive direc- tion of the mind ; but, when they have once become habitual, they may be repeated involuntarily, and even unconsciously, by a secondary or acquired Automatism, the mechanism of which has constructed itself in virtue of the tendency of the Nervous system to grow to the mode in which it is habitually exercised (§ 278). And this is equally true of those more special activities which have been acquired by " training," —such as rope-dancing (§ 381), music-playing (§ 194), juggling with balls (§ 194), &c.; for these may be per- formed (as we are accustomed truly enough to say) " me- chanically " by any individual by whom they have been so habitually repeated as to have become a " second nature." Of this general principle, of which numerous examples will hereafter come before the reader, the following singu- larly curious illustration, which I have lately received from a trustworthy source (a Clergyman in the North of Eng- land), may be here presented :— Preface to the Fourth Edition. xix " While I was a student in Dublin University, I was at an evening " party at which a lady was asked to play for dancing. Unfortunately " she had taken far too much at supper; and was, in fact, after she "had begun to play, so drunk as to be totally unable to rise off the " stool. I was standing near the piano, and saw her eyes close, her " head fall forward, and givo every manifestation of sleep except snore " aloud. But her playing went on in perfect time ; and, in fact, the " difficulty was, when she had ended a waltz or quadrille, to make her "stop; for when she was shaken out of sleep, it was evidenfty her " intention to go on the whole night. To set her going again, it was " only necessary to place her hands on the keys, and she would begin " a new quadrille, soon again relapsing into sleep, and yet continuing " to play well. I was studying a deep course of Metaphysics at the " time, for my degree in those subjects in Trinity College; and the " case made a great impression on my mind. I could not account for " it on any of my then principles; but I see it perfectly now." I have recently learned, too, that it is no uncommon experience in Telegraph offices, for transmitters of messages, when they have been for some time in the service, to work the instruments without conscious thought of what they are doing. " They read the words," says my informant, " pass them through their minds, and transfer them to " the sending part of the apparatus, just as unconsciously and auto- " matically as Wheatstone's transmitter does. I have often found " myself," he continues, " indulging in trains of thought, or even " listening to a conversation that might be going on near me, and yet " continue to ' receive' and ' send' just as if I was giving my whole at- " tention to the work; and when I came to see the messages after- " wards, I knew that they had passed through my hands only by the " handwriting. Once, indeed, when on night duty, I became com- " pletely unconscious whilst sending a long and monotonous ' group' " message, consisting entirely of figures, and woke up bewildered; " and had to ask the receiving station ' after what?' before I could " proceed. Some clerks believe that the work is done more accurately "when done automatically; but I scarcely think this justified by " experience." However strange these statements may seem, they fiud their parallel in our own familiar experience. For almost every one who has been much in the habit of reading aloud, is well aware that he may continue to do this with perfect articulation, punctuation, emphasis, and intonation, while xx Preface to the Fourth Edition. his mind is so completely engrossed by some entirely dif- ferent subject, that, until his Attention is recalled to it, he is no more aware that he is reading, or conscious of the guidance he has been receiving from his visual sense, than is the philosopher of the pursuance of his walk whilst his whole mind is given to the solution of some knotty problem (§ 117). The only difference between the case of the reader-aloud and that of the telegraph-clerk, is that the words whose visual pictures have fallen on the retina, are expressed in the one case by acts of vocalisation, in the other by a special kind of finger-language. So, the case of the musical performer who continued to play quadrilles in her sleep, is analogous to that of the ambulatory thinker ; a previously acquired suc- cession of movements, once initiated, going on without conscious direction; each movement being suggested by that which preceded it, and itself suggesting the next. The same explanation seems to me to be legitimately applicable to the case of the French Sergeant, on which great stress is laid by Prof. Huxley (loc. cit. p. 568) as indicating that what we are accustomed to call Voluntary action in our- selves is really Automatic. For, as a consequence of a wound in the head received at Gravelotte, this man frequently passed spontaneously into a state closely resembling that of the artificially-induced Hypnotism, whose phenomena are de- scribed in the latter part of this Treatise (§§ 493—500). The essential peculiarity of this state is the suspension of che directing and controlling power of the Will; so that tho whole course of action is determined Automatically by Sug- gestion. And its phenomena, so far from affording any Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxi evidence that the same is the case in our normal state, and that what we call Will is only the " symbol in conscious- ness " of a material change which would equally take place without it, seem to me to testify exactly the contrary. For we cannot help recognizing a marked difference between the normal and the abnormal states of such subjects; and, as I think I have demonstrated in my discussion of these and of allied states (Chaps. XIV., XV.), that difference essentially consists in the suspension in the latter state of that Volitional power, which in the former directs and controls the successions of thought and action. And on the recog- nition of this difference will depend our appreciation of the relative Moral " responsibility" of the subjects of these states, for the same actions performed in the normal and in the abnormal conditions respectively. Thus we should hold the French Sergeant fully " responsible " for any theft he might commit when in full possession of his wits ; and yet for the very same action performed in his Automatic state, we should be ready to admit the excuse that he had no power of self-control (p. xxxviiij. Thus, as it seems to me, the cases cited by Professor Huxley are readily explicable by the principle of secondary or acquired Automatism first explicitly laid down by Hartley; this taking the place in Man (save as regards such actions as breathing and sucking, which are essential to the life of the infant) of those which are primary or original among the lower animals. And I hold it to be the legiti- mate inference from the fact that certa-in actions of the Frog, resembling those which Man might execute Volition- xxii Preface to the Fourth Edition. ally under like circumstances, are performed Automatically, that a provision exists in the inherited structure of the Frog, for doing that which Man only learns to do by intentional " training,"—an inference which all Physiolo- gical study tends to confirm. For the fullest recognition of Automatism in the performances of Goltz's frog does not in the least invalidate the testimony of my own Consciousness, that when, being called on to balance my body under some unaccustomed circumstances (as in crossing a stream on a narrow plank, or over a series of stepping- stones), I give my whole attention to the act, the movements of my body are executed under my intentional direction. Again, the fact that various actions have become so familiar to me by habit as to be performed Automati- cally, affords no real contradiction to the testimony of my own Consciousness, that when I was first trained (or was training myself) to execute them, my Will issued the mandates which were carried into effect by my muscles. I cannot believe that a piece of delicate handiwork, such as a minute dissection, or the painting of a miniature—requir- ing constant visual guidance, and trained exactness of muscular response—can be executed without a distinct Volitional direction of each movement. And I find myself quite unable to conceive that when I am consciously attempting, whether by speech or by writing, to excite in the minds of my readers the ideas which are present to my own consciousness at the moment, it is not my Mind which is putting my lips or my hand in motion, but that (as Professor Huxley maintains) it is my Body which is moving Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxiii of itself and simply keeping my mind informed of its movements. If this doctrine were true, not only of particular cases, but of Human life generally, it is obvious that its stream would flow on exactly as it does, if we had no Consciousness at all of what we are about; that the actions and reactions of the " ideagenous molecules " would do the work of the philosopher, even if they never generated ideas in his mind; that he would give forth its results in books or lectures, not from any intention or desire that his books should be read and his lectures heard, so as to bring the thoughts of other minds into relation with his own, but simply because certain molecular motions in his brain call forth the movements of speech or writing; and that, in like manner, the noblest works of genius—the master-pieces of the poet, the artist, and the musician—would none the less be produced, if the " symbols in consciousness" were never evoked in their producers' nature, and would prove none the less attractive to other Automata, if the molecular movements of their brains should be equally incapable of exciting either intellectual or emotional activity; such activity being, to use a legal phrase, mere "surplusage." To myself this seems like a reductio ad absurdum. For although I maintain in the present Treatise that an Automatic action may take place in the Cerebrum, which, without any intervention of consciousness, may evolve products usually accounted Mental, yet in all such cases the action takes place on the lines previously laid down by Volitional direction; being exactly parallel, in the case of cerebral action, to that xxiv Preface to the Fourth Edition. secondary or acquired Automatism, by which particular kinds of Movement, originally acquired by " training," come to be performed " mechanically." I fail to find, then, in any of the modern developments either of Physical or Physiological science, any adequate grounds for abandoning the position maintained in the following Treatise, as to the direction and control to which the Automatic activity of Man is subject in pro- portion to the development of his Volitional power,—that is, the power exerted by the Ego not only with a distinct purpose, but with a consciousness of effort, the strength of which is the mark and measure of its exercise. The direct testimony of Consciousness, in regard not only to the existence of this Volitional power, but also to the Self-determination of the Ego in the exercise of it, is borne out by numerous other considerations of various degrees of cogency, more or less intimately related to each other; the aggregate of which, like that of the mutually-supporting outworks round a citadel, adds enormously to the strength of the position, though each independently might be inefficient for its defence. 1. It is supported by the very existence of the Idea symbolised in the word choice; an idea whicb we could not entertain, if we did not find something answerable to it in our own subjective experience. For in ex- ternal Nature there is nothing that can be truly termed " choice." If a piece of Iron be brought within the sphere of attraction of two Magnets placed on opposite sides of it, Pr£face to the Fourth Edition. xxv one near but feeble, the other strong but remote,, we feel assured that it will be drawn towards the one which makes the stronger pull upon it; and we take its motion in one or ihe other direction, as the indication of the superior tractive force of the magnet towards which it tends. To use the word " choice " in such a case—to say that the iron chooses towards which of the magnets it shall move,—would be felt by every one a misapplication of the term. The same would be the case as regards any other action determined by Phy- sical Causation. And yet on the Determinist doctrine, if I am attracted by the temptation of an immediate but im- moral pleasure, and am deterred from it either by a sense of duty or by the fear of the remote consequences of the sin, I have no more " choice " as to the course I shall take, than has the piece of iron that is attracted in opposite directions by two magnets. Now my contention is, not merely that I have a choice, but that the very existence of an Idea which can be derived from no other source than Human experience,' confirms the testimony of my own consciousness to that effect.* And the like confirmation is afforded by the familiar reply " I have no choice," in cases in which we feel it to be a necessity (whether physical or moral) that we should take a particular line of action. That in making our Choice, and in acting upon it, we are determined by the " preponderance of motives," I do not call in question; the Self-determining power of the Will • The case seems to me exactly parallel to that of the notion of Force, which is based on our own consciousness of effort in originating or in resisting Motion (§ 575). xxvi Preface to the Fourth Edition. seeming to me to be exerted in modifying the preponderance which the motives per se would determine. The affirmation that our actions are determined by the strongest motives, appears to me, indeed, a mere truism ; being only another mode of saying that the motive which prevails is the strongest. For we have no other test of the relative strength O of motives, than that which is afforded by our experience of their action in each individual case. If we put into a balance two bodies of known densities, we can predict, by the comparison of their dimensions, which will preponderate. But, if the density of one or both is unknown, we can only determine which is the heavier by seeing which scale goes down. And so we can have no other measure of the relative strength of Motives of different orders, than that which is afforded by their respective effects in the determination of the conduct. Now, all experience shows that Motives which may exert a preponderating influence at one moment, are comparatively powerless at another; on the other hand, Motives whose influence at one moment is scarcely felt, may come to acquire a force that makes them far outweigh those which at first over-balanced them. This is especially ap- parent when we exert our Volitional power of " self- control " to check the immediate action which is prompted by some Automatic impulse; time being thus gained for the excited feeling to subside, and for the " second thoughts" of the higher Reason to make themselves heard.* * It is not always, however, that "second thoughts are best." For the immediate impulse may be a benevolent one, and the "second thoughts" deliberately selfish. Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxvii And a further reflection on our own mental experi- ences will satisfy us, that these variations in the relative strength of Motives mainly arise from the degree of Atten- tion that we give to each respectively. An excited Feeling which would soon die-out if left to itself, will retain its potency, or even gain augmented force, if we allow ourselves to brood over it; whilst, on the other hand, the power of those remoter considerations which deliberation suggests, increases in proportion as they are dwelt on. And just as, in the case of the two magnets, we may reverse their relative attractions by changing their respective distances from the iron between them, so can each Ego who has acquired the power of directing his own course of Thought and Feeling, alter the relative potency of different motives or sets of motives, by determinately directing his attention to those which would draw him in one direction, and by partially or completely excluding those of an opposite tendency from his mental view. If it be urged by the Automatist that this fixation of the Ego's attention on one set of motives to the exclusion of the other, is really due to the superior strength of the motive (supplied by his previously-formed character) which leads him to desire so to fix it, I reply that no experience of which I am conscious is more real to me, than that if I did not make an effort to keep my attention fixed, the desire alone would fail to do it. I am further conscious that a great deal more is " taken out of me" (to use an expressive colloquialism) by the prolongation of such a struggle, than by a far larger measure of undistracted mental action xxviii Preface to the Fourth Edition. And I ask, " Why, on the Automatist theory, should this " be? "—To myself it seems clear that it is in the control he thus acquires over the Automatism of his nature, that Man's freedom of choice essentially consists; whilst, on the other hand, it is in virtue of his want of power to gain a complete control, that his freedom is limited. This view seems to me to find its strongest support in the experience of those who have been most largely and most successfully engaged in the Education of the young. For, as I have had abundant opportunities of learning, they watch for the dawn of this power of reflection and deliberation in the child, endeavour to strengthen his feeble resolution by judicious encouragement, lead him to reflect upon the con- sequences of his misdoing to himself or to others, and give additional force to his sense of Duty by earnest appeals to it, so as to sustain him in a conflict to which he is as yet unequal if left to himself; but at the same time they make him feel that he must not always expect such help, and that it rests with himself, by habitually fixing his attention upon what his Reason and his Moral Sense tell him he ought to do, to be able to will to do it against his inclination. No experience is so remarkable in its bearing on this question, as that of the Philanthropic men and women who have taken the largest and most efficient share in the work of Juvenile Reformation. For they have to deal with a class of boys and girls, who have grown up to a most un- manageable age, in habits of entire unrestrainedness of Thought and Feeling, and in no more restrainedness of Action than has been imposed on them by external coercion Preface to the Fourth Edition. xxix or by fear of punishment. These young " reprobates " have not the least idea of self-control, or of doing anything else than that which their inclinations prompt; their notions of " right " are all based upon limited self-interest; and they hold everything to be " wrong " which interferes with what they conceive to be their own " rights." Now the. first lesson that has to be. taught them is that of obedience to discipline, for which punishment has often to be used as a motive. But in proportion as' the habit of srmer being those which are called forth by a distinct effort of Will, and are directed to the execution of a definite purpose; whilst the latter are performed in respondence to an internal prompting of which we may or may not be conscious, and are not dependent on any preformed intention,—being executed, to use a common expres- sion, "mechanically." Some of these are primarily or originally Automatic; whilst others, which were Volitional in the first instance, come by frequent repetition to be performed independently of the Will, and thus become secondarily Automatic* Some of the Auto- matic movements, again, can be controlled by the Will ; whilst others take place in oppositiou to the strongest Volitional effort. There is a large class of secondarily-automatic actions, which the Will can initiate, and which then go on of themselves in sequences estab- lished by previous Habit; but which the Will can stop, or of which it can change the direction, as easily as it set them going; and these it will be convenient to term voluntary, as being entirely under the control of the Will, although actually maintained Auto- matically. 15. Those movements of which the uninterrupted performance is essential to the maintenance of Life, are primarily automatic; and are not only independent of the Will, but entirely beyond its control. The " beating of the Heart," which is a typical example of such movements, though liable to be affected by emotional disturbance, cannot be altered either in force or frequency by any volitional effort. And only one degree removed from this ia * The sagacity of Hartley enabled him to anticipate on this point the discoTf ries of modem Physiology ; for in designating as secondarily automatic the whole of the actions which come to bo performed by Habit without Will or even Conscious- ness, though originally learned and practised with conscious intent, he showed a discernment of their true character which later researches have entirely justified Auto?natic Movements of the Body. i 7 the act of Respiration ; which, though capable in Man of being so regulated by the Will as to be made subservient to the uses of Speech, cannot be checked by the strongest exertion of it for more than a few moments. If we try to " hold our breath," for such a period that the aeration of the blood is seriously interfered with, a fueling of distress is experienced, which every moment increases in intensity until it becomes absolutely unbearable; so that the auto- matic impulse which pi*ompts its relief can no longer be resisted. So when a crumb of bread or a drop of water passes " the wrong way," the presence of an irritation iu the windpipe automatically excites a combination of muscular movements, which teuds to an expulsion of the offending particle by an explosive Cough. The strongest exertion of the Will is powerless to prevent this action ; which is repeated in spite of every effort to repress it, until that result has been obtained. If the irritation be applied to the nasal entrance of the air-passages, as in snuff-taking, a peculiar valvular action at the back of the mouth automatically directs a part of the explosive blast through the nose ; and this Sneeze, if the stimulus be applied in sufficient strength, is altogether beyond Volitional isontrol.—It is worthy of note that whilst the act of coughing can be excited by a mandate of the Will, through the instrumentality to be hereafter explained (§ 47), we cannot thus execute a true sneeze, the stage-imitation of which is ludicrously unlike the reality. 16. There can be no doubt that in the lower tribes of Animals, a large part of the ordinary movements of Locomotion are of the same primarily automatic character; being executed in direct respon- dence to a stimulus that acts through the Nervous centres with which the locomotive members are directly connected, and being performed by the headless trunk with just the same perfect co" ordination as by the entire creature (§ 54). In Man, however, the power of performing these movements is acquired by a process of education ; and no one can watch this process, without perceiving 18 Genei'al Relations of Mind and Body. how gradual is the acquirement of the co-ordinating power, especially in the balancing of the body during each successive step. As Paley says : " A child learning to walk is the greatest posture master in the world." Yet, when this co-ordination has been once established, the ordinary movements of Locomotion—though in- volving the combined action of almost every muscle in the body— are performed automatically; the Will being only concerned in starting, directing, or checking them.—Of this we have familiar experience in the continuance of the act of walking, whilst the attention is occupied by some "train of thought*' which completely and continuously engrosses it. Though Ave set out with the inten- tion of proceeding in a certain direction, after a few minutes we may lose all consciousness of where we are, or of whither our legs ai-e carrying us ; yet we continue to walk-on steadily, and may unex- pectedly find ourselves at the end of our journey before we are aware of having done more than commence it (§ 71). Each individual movement here suggests the succeeding one, and the repetition con- tinues, until, the Attention having been recalled, the automatic impulse is superseded by the control of the WilL Further, the direction of the movement is given by the sense of Sight, which so guides the motions of our legs that we do not jostle our fellow passengers or run up against lamp-posts; and the same sense directs also their general course along the line that habit has rendered most familiar, although at the commencement of our walk we may have intended to take some other.—Suppose our walk to be so pro- longed, however, that the sense of fatigue comes-on before we have reached its appointed conclusion. This calls off our Attention from what is going on in the mind, to the condition of the body; and in order to sustain the movements of locomotion, a distinct exertion of the Will comes tc be requisite for each. With the increasing sense of fatigue, an increased effort becomes necessary ; and at last even the most determined Volition may find itself unable to evoke a respondent movement from the exhausted Muscles. Automatic, Voluntary, and Volitional Movements. 19 17. In this familiar experience we can cleai'ly trace three dis- tinct modes of action,—the Automatic, the Voluntary, and the Volitional. Whilst we are all unconscious of the movements which our legs are executing for us, those movements are purely automatic When our attention is not so completely engrossed elsewhere, but Lhat we know where we are and what we are doing, the movements of locomotion are not only permitted by the Will, but may be guided by it into some unusual direction ; such movements are voluntary. But when the sense of fatigue attending each movement makes it necessary that a distinct effort of the Will shall be exerted for its repetition, the act comes to be volitional.—The explanation of these phenomena lies in the fact, that the Nervo-muscular mechanism immediately concerned in executing the movement (of which an account will be given hereafter, §§ 54, 71) is the same through- out, but that it is started by different means; the Will replacing the stimulus to action otherwise furnished by an external impression. Of this we have a typical example in the act of Coughing. When we will to cough (as for the purpose of giving a signal, or putting down a tedious speaker), we merely touch the spring, as it were, of a mechanism, which automatically combiues the multitude of separate actions that are required to produce the result (§ 47) ; just as when we pull the trigger of a gun, or open the valve which admits steam into the steam-engine. And the only difference in kind between the act of Coughing and that of Walking consists in this,—that whilst the mechanism concerned in the former is ready for action from the first, that by which the latter is performed requires to have its various Rprings and levers adjusted to harmonious operation. But when this adjustment has been once made, it remains good for life ; in virtue of that remarkable peculiarity of our Bodily constitution, which keeps up the Nutrition of each part in accordance with the use that is made of it (§ 276). 18. There may still be Metaphysicians who maintain that 20 General Relations of Mind and Body. actions which were originally prompted by the Will with a distinct intention, and which are still entirely under its control, can never cease to be Volitional; and that either an infinitesimally small amount of will is required to sustain them when they have been onoe set going, or that the will is in a sort of pendulum-like oscil- lation between the two actions,—the maintenance of the train of thought, and the maintenance of the train of movement. But if only an infinitesimally small amount of Will is necessary to sustain them, is not this tantamount to saying that they go on by a force of their own 1 And does not the experience of the perfect continuity of our trains of thought during the performance of movements that have become habitual, entirely negative the hypothesis of oscillation? Besides, if such an oscillation existed, there must be intervals in which each action goes on of itself; so that its essentially automa- tic character is virtually admitted. The Physiological explanation, that the Mechanism of Locomotion, as of other habitual movements, grows to the mode in which it is early exercised, and that it then works automatically under the general control and direction of the Will, can scarcely be put down by any assumption of a hypothetical necessity, which rests only on the basis of ignorance of one side of our composite nature. 19. But we may go a step further, and assert that it may now be regarded as a well-established Physiological fact, that even in the most purely Volitional movements—those which are prompted by a distinct purposive effort,—the Will does not directly produce the result; but plays, as it were, upon the Automatic apparatus by which the requisite Nervo-muscular combination is brought into action. 20. No better illustration of this doctrine could be adduced, than that which is furnished by the act of Vocalization ; either in articulate Speech, or in the production of Musical tones. In each of these acts, the co-ordination of a large number of musculur movements is required ; and so complex are their combinations, that the professed Anatomist would be unable, without careful Action of the Will on the Automatic Mechanism. 21 fttudy, to determine what is the precise state of each of the muscles concerned in the production of a given musical note, or the enun- ciation of a particular syllable. Yet we simply conceive the tone or the syllable we wish to utter, and say to our automatic Self " Do this : r and the well-trained Automaton does it. The delicate gra- dations in the action of each individual muscle, and the harmonious combination of the whole, are effected under the guidance of the Ear, without (save in exceptional cases) the smallest knowledge on our own parts of the nature of the mechanism we are putting in action. In fact, the most perfect acquaintance with that mechanism would scarcely afford the least assistance in the ac- quirement of the power to use it. The " training " which develops the inarticulate Cry of the infant into articulate Speech or melodious Song, mainly consists in the fixation of the Attention on the audible result, the selection of that one of the imitative efforts to produce it which is most nearly successful, and the repetition of this until it has become habitual or secondarily automatic. The Will can thenceforwards reproduce any sound once acquired, by calling upon the Automatic apparatus for the particular combination of movements which it has grown into the power of executing in respondence to each preconception; pro- vided, at least, that the apparatus has not been allowed to become rusty by disuse, or been stiffened by training into a different mode of action. Even the strongest Will, however, may fail to acquire complete control over the complex Automatic mechanism. The articulation of the Stammerer is disturbed by spasmodic impulses, which he vainly endeavours to keep under subjection : — the Vocalist's ear may tell him that he is singing out of tune, and yet he may be unable to correct his fault :—and even a Viardot * or a Patti would feel unfit either for the performance of a new rdle, or for the repetition of an old one long laid by, however perfect might be her mental conception of it, until she had trained or re-trained her organ to execute that conception. 22 General Relations of Mind and Body. 21. Another illustration, drawn from the movements of the Eyes, may place this doctrine in a still clearer light; inasmuch as the action of the living Automaton can be watched either by a bystander, or by the Ego that calls it forth. Let the reader will to fix his gaze on the face of a person directly opposite to him, and then will to move his head from side to side ; his eyeballs will be seen to roll in their sockets in the contrary direction, and this not only without any volitional effort on his part, but even without his being in any way conscious of the act, except by a process of reasoning. Or, if he move his head upwards and downwards, his eyes (still fixed on the opposite face) will roll conversely doionwards and upwards. And if, instead of looking at the face of another, he fix his gaze upon the reflection of his own eyes in a mirror, and then move his head as before, he will be able to satisfy himself that his Automaton is directing his eyes for him ; every alteration in the position of his head being accompanied by a roll of his eyeballs in the opposite direction, so that their axes continue to be turned towards the reflected image, so long as he wills to keep them so. 22. The same may be shown to be true of all the so-called Voluntary movements. What we will is, not to throw this or that muscle into contraction, but to produce a certain preconceived result. That result may be within the capacity of our ordinary Mechanism; but, if it be not, we have to create a new mechanism by a course of training or practice ; the effect of which (as already shown) is to make the Automatic apparatus grow to the mode in which it is habitually exercised.—That this is the true theory of these movements, is evident from several considerations, of which a few must here suffice. If the performance of a Voluntary move- ment required a transmission of Nervous power direct from tho Brain (which may be assumed to be the instrument of the Will) to the Muscles concerned in its production, then we should need to know what those muscles are, and to select and combine Action of the Wilton the Automatic Mechanism. 23 them intentionally; which is so far from being the fact, that the consummate anatomist is no better able than the completest igno ramus to execute a movement he has never practised. Again, if our Muscles were under the direct control of the Will, we could single out any one of them, and make it contract by itself; which we cannot really do, except in the few instances in which willing the result calls only a single muscle into action. So again, if an accomplished Musician should wish to play upon an instrument he has never practised, but of which he thoroughly understands the mechanism, it would be sufficient for him to will the movements he knows to be requisite for the production of the desired tones, instead of having to acquire the power of performing them by a laborious course of training; and the man who, on being asked whether he could play the fiddle, said that " he did not know till he had tried," might have shown himself a very Joachim when the instrument was put into his hands. 23. The doctrine that the Will, which carries into action the determinations of the Intellect, has no direct power over the muscles which execute its mandates, but operates through the automatic mechanism, is in entire harmony with the knowledge acquired of late years in regard to the relative functions of the Cerebrum and of the Axial Cord on which it is super- imposed. For it will be shown (Chap. II.) that the latter, which receives all the nerves of Sense, and gives forth all the nerves of Motion, constitutes the fundamental and essential part of the Nervous System, and is alone concerned in the performance of all those movements which are primarily automatic or Instinctive : whilst the Cerebrum, the development of which seems to bear a pretty constant relation to the degree in which Intelligence supersedes Instinct as a source of action, is superadded to this Axial Cord; through which, on the one hand, it receives Sense- impressions, whilst, on the other, it calls the Muscles into action. And thus, when we will to cough, certain Cerebral fibres (§ 89) 24 Gmeral Relations of Mind and Body. convey the same stimulus to the centre of Respiratory movement, that is brought to it by the Sensory nerves when a crumb of bread or a drop of water " goes the wrong way," and calls forth the same respondent action. 24. Thus, then, the relation between the Automatic r«ctivity of the body, and the Volitional direction by which it is utilized and directed, may be compared to the independent locomotive power of a horse under the guidance and control of a skilful rider. It is not the rider's whip or spur that furnishes the power, but the nerves and muscles of the horse; and when these have been exhausted, no further action can be got out of them by the sharpest stimu- lation. But the rate and direction of the movement are deter- mined by the Will of the rider, who impresses his mandates on the well-trained steed with as much readiness and certainty as if he were acting on his own limbs. Now and then, it is true, some unusual excitement calls forth the essential independence of the equine nature ; the horse takes the bit between his teeth, and runs away with his master; and it is for the time uncertain whether the independent energy of the one, or the controlling power of the other, will obtain the mastery. This is just what we see in those Spasms and Convulsions which occur without loss of consciousness, and in which the muscles that we are accustomed to regard as " voluntary" are called into violent contraction, in spite of the strongest Volitional resistance. On the other hand, the horse will quietly find his way home, whilst his rider, wrapped in a profound reverie, entirely ceases to guide him ; just as our own legs carry us along a course which habit has made familiar, while our Mind is engaged only upon its own operations, and our Will is altogether in abeyance. And, to complete the parallel, the process by which a Horse is taught any unusual performance—as when in "training" for the Circus or the Stage—entirely corresponds with that by which we "train" our own automatic mechanism to any novel action : the result desired by the master being indicated to the Power of the Will over Mental Action. 25 learner, every effort that tends to produce it being encouraged and fixed by repetition, and every unsuitable action being repressed; until the entire sequence comes to be automatically executed at the first touch of the suggesting spring which es presses the directing Will. 25. Now all this will be found to be as true of the Mind, as it is of the body. Our Mental activity is, in the first instance, entirely tpontaneous or automatic; being determined by our congenital nervous Organization, and by the conditions of its early develop- ment. It may be stated as a fundamental principle, that the Will can never originate any form of Mental activity. Thus, no one has ever acquired the creative power of Genius, or made himself a great Artist or a great Poet, or gained by practice that peculiar insight which characterises the original Discoverer; for these gifts are Mental Instincts or Intuitions (§ 408), which, though capable of beiug developed and strengthened by due cultivation, can never be generated de novo. But the power of the Will is exerted in the purposive selection, from among those objects of consciousness which Sensations from without and the working of the internal " Mechanism of Thought and Feeling" bring before the Ego (whether simultaneously or successively), of that which shall be determinately followed up ; and in the intensification of tlie force of its impression, which seems the direct consequence of such limitation. This state is what is termed Attention ; in regard to which it was well said by Sir William Hamilton, that its intensity is in a precisely inverse ratio to its extensity. And it will be the Writer's object to bhow, that it is solely by the Volitional direction of the attention that the Will exerts its domination ; so that the acquirement of this power, which is within the reach of every one, should be the primary object of all Mental discipline. It is thus that each indi- vidual can perfect and utilize his natural gifts ; by rigorously training them in the first instance, and then by exercising them only in the manner most fitted to expand and elevate, while restraiuing 26 General Relations of Mind and Body. them from all that would limit or debase.—In regard to every kind of Mental activity that does not involve origination, the powe* of the Will, though limited to selection, is almost unbounded. For although it cannot directly bring objects before the consciousness which are not present to it (§ 371), yet, by concentrating the Mental gaze (so to speak) upon any object that may be within its reach, it can make use of this to bring in other objects by associative Sug- gestion. And, moreover, it can virtually determine what shall net be regarded by the Mind, through its power of keeping the Atten- tion fixed in some other direction ; and thus it can subdue the force of violent impulse, and give to the conflict of opposing motives a result quite different from that which would ensue without its in- terference (§ 332). This exercise of the Will, moreover, if habitually exerted in certain directions, will tend to form the Character, by establishing a set of acquired habitudes; which, no less than those dependent upon original constitution and circumstances, help to determine the working of the "Mechanism of Thought and Feeling." In so utilising it, the Will can also improve it by appro- priate discipline ; repressing its activities where too strong, foster- ing and developing them where originally feeble, directing all healthful energy into the most fitting channel for its exercise, and training the entire Mental as it does the Bodily organism to harmonious and effective working. And thus in proportion as our Will acquires domination over our Automatic tendencies, the spontaneous succession of our Ideas and the play of our Emotions show the influence of its habitual control; while our Character and Conduct in Life come to be the expression of our best Intellectual energies, directed by the Motives which we determinately elect as our guiding principles of action. 26. It is obvious that the view here taken does not in the least militate against the idea, that Mind may have an existence altogether independent of the Body which serves as its instrument. All which has been contended for is, that the connexion between Mind and Power of the Will over Mental Action. 2 7 Body is such, that the actions of each have, in this present state of existence (which is all of which Science can legitimately take cognizance), a definite causal relation to those of the other; so that the actions of our Minds, in so far as they are carried on witliout any interference from our Will, may be considered as " Functions of the Brain."—On the other hand, in the control which the Will can exert over the direction of the thoughts, and over the motive force exerted by the feelings, we have the evidence of a new and inde- pendent Power, which may either oppose or concur-with the auto- matic tendencies, and which, according as it is habitually exerted, tends to render the Ego a free agent. And, truly, in the existence of this Power, which is capable of thus regulating the very highest of those operations that are causally related to corporeal states, we find a better evidence than we gain from the study of any other part of our Psychical nature, that there is an entity wherein Man's nobility essentially consists, which does not depend for its existence on any play of Physical or Vital forces, but which makes these forces subservient to its determinations. It is, in fact, in virtue of the Will, that we are not mere thinking Automata, mere puppets to be pulled by suggesting-strings, capable of being played-upon by every one who shall have made himself master of our springs of action. 27. It may be freely admitted, however, that such thinking Automata do exist : for there are many individuals whose Will has never been called into due exercise, and who gradually or almost entirely lose the power of exerting it, becoming the mere creatures of habit and impulse ; and there are others in whom (as we shall hereafter see) such Automatic states are of occasional occurrence whilst in others, again, they may be artificially induced. And it is (1) by the study of those conditions in which the Will is completely iu abeyance,—the course of thought being entirely determined by the influence of suggestions upon the Mind, whose mode of reaction upon them depends upon its original peculiarities and its sub- 28 General Relations of Mind and Body. sequently-acquired habits,—and (2) by the comparison of such abnormal states with that in which the Ego, in full possession of all his faculties, and accustomed to the habitual direction of his thoughts and control of his feelings, determinately applies his judgment to the formation of a decision between contending impulses, and carries that decision into action,—that we shall obtain the most satisfactory ideas of what share the Will really Lakes in the operations of our Minds and in the direction of our conduct, and of what must be set down to that automatic activity of our Psychical nature, which is correlated with Cerebral changes. 28. Thus, then, the Psychologist may fearlessly throw himself into the deepest waters of speculative inquiry in regard to the relation between his Mind and its Bodily instrument, provided that he trusts to the inherent buoyancy of that great fact of Consciousness, that we have within us a self-determining Power which we call Will. And he may even find in the evidence of the inti- mate relation between Mental activity and Physical changes in the Brain, the most satisfactory grounds which Science can afford, for his belief that the phenomena of the Material Universe are the expressions of an Infinite Mind and Will, of which Man's is the finite representative. (See Chap, XX) CHAPTER IL OF THE NERVOUS SYSTEM AND ITS FUNCTIONS. Section 1. Relation of the Nervous System to the Body generally. 29. The Body of Man, or of any one of the higher Animals, may be regarded as made up of two portions which are essentially distinct, though intimately blended as well in their structure as in their actions,—viz. (1), the Apparatus of Animal Life, and (2) the Apparatus of Vegetative or Organic Life. 30. To the Apparatus of Animal Life belongs the whole Mechanism of those actions which essentially distinguish the Animal from the Plant; namely, Sensation, the higher Psychical changes which Sensation initiates, and the Movements which are consequent upon them. And thus the Apparatus of Animal Life may be said to consist of the Nervous System, the Organs of Sense, and the Organs of Motion,—these last including the Skeleton or jointed framework (composed of bones, Cartilages, and ligaments), and the Muscles which give motion to its parts. It is in virtue of the contractility possessed by the Muscles, that all the sensible movements of the higher Animals are performed : the skeletal framework being merely passive, and furnishing a system of levers by which the contractile power of the muscles may be advantageously applied ; and the muscles being either directly united to the bones, or being connected with them by means of the cords termed Tendons, which simply communicate the tension or "pull" produced by the contraction of the muscles. Thus, the closure of the fingers in grasping is for the most part produced by the contraction 5f 30 Nervous System and its Functions. Muscles that form the fleshy part of the fore-arm, the strong tendons of which may be felt on the front of the wrist-joint; and in like manner, the propulsive movement of the foot in walking is effected by the large Muscles forming the calf of the leg,—these pulling upwards the heel by means of the great Tendo Achillis into which they are continued. 31. The Apparatus of Organic Life, on the other hand, serves in the first instance to construct or build-up the Apparatus of Animal Life, and then to maintain it in " working order." For all expenditure of Force involves not only a certain "wear and tear" of the apparatus which furnishes its instrumentality; but also a certain equivalent amount of Chemical change, either in the substance of the apparatus itself, or in the blood which circulates through it, or in both. Thus when a Muscle is called into con- traction, there is a certain disintegration or " waste " of its tissue, which needs repair by Nutrition ; but there is also an oxidation of Organic Compounds, by which Carbon and Hydrogen originally derived from the food are converted into Carbonic acid and Water ; and what would elsewhere produce If eat, here takes the form of the mechanical equivalent of heat, namely Motion. How much of these Organic Compounds is supplied by the muscle, and how much by the blood, has not yet been satisfactorily determined : it mav be regarded, however, as certain that the whole of the motor force generated in the contraction of a muscle is not derived (as Liebig maintained it to be) from the " waste " of the muscle itself, and the oxidation of its components ; but that a large part of it is supplied by the oxidation of non-nitrogenous constituents of the blood. — The generation of Nerve-force involves a still more active change in that part of the Nervous system which is the instrument of its production (§ 41) ; and though we are not yet able to state precisely in what this change consists, yet we may affirm with certainty that it involves a reaction between Nerve-substance and oxygenated Blood, which requires a constant Nervous System and its Functions. 31 supply of that fluid, and a no less constant removal of the products of the reaction to which it ministers. 32. Thus, then, the Apparatus of Organic Life may be said to consist of the organs by which Blood is made, those by which it is kept in circulation, and those by which it is maintained in purity ; but the action of these has to be supplemented by that of the Apparatus of Animal Life. For, in the first place, the Animal must obtain its food by the exercise of its senses, of its psychical powers, and of its locomotive organs ; and even in the Ingestion and Digestion of the food, when procured, the assistance of Muscles is required. So the Circulation of Blood is maintained by a muscular >rgan, the Heart, and is regulated locally by the muscularity of the walls of the Arteries ; and both the rhythmical contraction of the Heart, and the calibre of the Arteries, are greatly influenced by the Nervous system. Again, the ordinary movements of Respiration, which constitute the most important of all the provisions by which the Blood is kept in the condition required for the development of the Nervous and Muscular forces, are dependent in the higher animals upon the Nervo-muscular apparatus ; and although they are so completely automatic in their character, as to be performed not only without effort, but in opposition to effort, they are so far under the control of the higher Nervous centres, as to be subservient to the Vocal expression of Psychical states. So, again, although the action of the Excretory organs, by which the products of the " waste " are removed from the Blood, is essentially independent of the Nervo-muscular apparatus, this has a certain control over their outlets, which enables the excretions to be retained and discharged at suitable times. 33. We shall find, then, that, in the higher Animals the Nervous Bysterr. is the instrument, not only of those Psychical powers by which they are pre-eminently distinguished, but also of many operations which minister solely to the maintenance of the Organic Functions. But the portions of it which are directly concerned in 5 32 Nervous System and its Functions. this latter duty, constitute an automatic apparatus, which is essentially independent of those higher centres that minister to the former. Thus not only does the Heart continue to beat, but the Respiratory movements are performed, as well in the sleeping as in the waking state ; during the profoundest insensibility, as in the condition of fullest mental activity. It cannot be certainly affirmed how far the rhythmical contractions of the Heart are dependent upon Nervous agency ; but there can be no doubt of this depend- ence in the case of the ordinary movements of Respiration ; and they afford a typical example of what is known as "reflex" action (§ 47), As neither the Physiological nor the Psychical action of the Nervous Mechanism can be properly understood, without some knowledge of its structure,—both as regards the Elementary parts of which it is composed, and the different modes in which these elements are combined and arranged in different Classes of Animals, —an account will now be given of what seems most essential to be known under each of these heads. Section 2. Elementary Structure of the Nervous System. 34. Wherever a distinct Nervous system can be made out (which has not yet been found possible in the lowest Animals), it consists of two very different forms of structure, the presence of both of which, therefore, is essential to our idea of it as a whole. We observe, in the first place, that it is formed of trunks, which distribute branches to the different parts of the body, especially to the Muscles and to the Sensory surfaces ; and of ganglia, which sometimes appear merely as knots or enlargements on these trunks, but which in other cases have rather the character of central masses from which the trunks proceed. Thus in Man, the "nervoua Bystem of animal life" consists of the Brain and Spinal Cord, which are aggregations of ganglia, and of the trunks and bran^hei Elementary Structure of Nervous System. $■$ that proceed from them (Fig. 1). In addition to this, he has also a "Nervous system of Organic life," the ganglionic centres of which are scattered through the body (§ 112). In bo:h systems, the trunks are essentially composed of nerve-fibres; whilst the ganglionic centres are characterized by the presence of peculiar cells connected with these fibres. 35. It is easily established by experiment that the active powers of the Nervous system are concentrated in the ganglia, while the trunks serve as conductors of the influence, which is to be propagated towards or from them. For, if a trunk be divided in any part of its course, all the parts to which the portion thus cut off from the ganglionic centre is distributed, are completely paralysed ; that is, no impression made upon them is felt as a Sensation, and no Motion can be excited in them by any act of the mind. Or, if the substance of the ganglion be destroyed, all the parts which are exclusively supplied by nervous trunks proceeding from it, are in like manner paralysed. But if, when a trunk is divided, the portion still connected with the ganglionic centre which constitutes the Sensorium be pinched, or otherwise irritated, Sensations are felt, which are referred to the points supplied by the separated portion of the trunk ; thus showing that the part remaining in connection with the centre is still capable of con- veying impressions, and that the ganglion itself receives these impressions and makes them felt as sensations. On the ether hand, if the separated portion of the trunk be irritated, Motions are excited in the muscles which it supplies; showing that it is still capable of conveying the motor influence, though cut off from the usual source of that influence. 36. Each Nerve-fibre in its most complete form (Fig. 2) consists of a membranous tube ', lined by a peculiar material composed of a combination of fat and albumen, which is known as the " white substance of Schwann2;" and this encloses an "axis cylinder3," composed of a protoplasmic substance, which seems 34 Nervous System and its Functions. Fig, 1. a lm_____i -., rn Nervous system of man. Elementary Structure of Nervous System. Fig 2. to be the essential constituent of the Nerve-fibre. Each fibre appears to maintain its continuity uninterruptedly from its origin to its termination, without any union with other fibres, though bound up closely with them in the same nerve-trunk; and there is strong reason to believe that the " white substance of Schwann " serves as an insulator, whereby the axis-cylinders of the con- tiguous nerve-fibres are kept apart from one another, just as are the numerous wires, each having its own origin and termination, which are bound up together of n in the aerial cable of the District Telegraph. — The typical form of the Nerve-cells or "ganglion-globules" (Fig. 3) may be regarded as globular; but they generally, if not always, have STRUCTURE ERVE- FIBRE. Fig. 3. two or more long extensions, which be- come continuous either with the axis- cylinders of nerve-fibres or with other cells. The nerve-cells, which do not seem to possess a definite cell-wall, are com- posed of a finely-granular substance, with which pigment-granules are mingled, espe- cially in the warm-blooded Vertebrata; thus giving to their ganglionic nerve-sub- stance that reddish-brown hue which causes it to be often designated grey or cineritious matter; the £wfot£ar nerve-substance, which contains no pigment-granules, being known as white matter. This difference of colour Ganglion-cells and nerve- marks the distribution of the two sub- fibres. stances in the Nervous centres of Man and the higher Animals Fig. 1. Nervous System of Man :—a, Cerebrum ; b, Cerebellum ; c, Spinal Cord ; d, facial nerve ; e, brachial plexus, for supply of arm; /, radial nerve • g, median nerve; h, ulnar nerve ; i, intercostal nerves; k, lumbar plexus and I, sacral plexus, for supply of leg; m m, fibular nerve; n, tibial nerve • p, external saphenous Derve. 36 Nervous System and its Functions. (Figs. 11 —13); but as the pigment-cells are wanting in the lower Classes, the distinction between the two substances is not there recognizable by the eye, and is only to be discerned by the microscope. 37. Every Nerve-fibre, there is reason to believe, is connected at its ganglionic centre with a Nerve-cell, an extension of which forms its axis-cylinder; and through other extensions of the same nerve- cell, it may be brought into connection with other nerve-cells in the same ganglion. The axis-cylinder soon receives its in- sulating investments, and retains these through almost its whole length. But near its termination, where the fibre separates itself from others, and is proceeding to its ultimate destination, the axis- cylinder escapes (as it were) from its envelopes, and comes into immediate relation with the tissue to which it is distributed. Thus, when supplying a Muscle, the axis-cylinder breaks up into very minute fibrillse, which seem to inosculate with each other, so as to form a network closely resembling that formed by the pseudopodia of Rhizopods (Fig. 5); and the like subdivision appears to take place in the axis-cylinders of the fibres which are distributed to the general substance of tissues that are to be endowed only with ordi- nary sensibility. But each of the papilla; which constitute the special organs of Touch has a nerve-fibre proceeding to it alone, of which the ultimate subdivisions are distributed upon a little cushion-like pad which it contains ; and the ultimate distribution of the nerves in the papillae of the tongue, which minister to the sense of Taste, seems to be of like character. 38. In the organs of Sight, Hearing, and Smell, however, there is a more special provision for the reception of the peculiar im- pressions to which they minister. For the Retina of the Eye may be said to be an expanded ganglion, consisting of layers of nerve- cells that seem to be the immediate recipients of the luminous impressions ; and the first effect of those impressions appears to be to generate Nerve-fDrce in the nerve-fibres constituting the Elementary Structure of Nervous System. 3 7 Optic nerve, which transmits them to its ganglionic centre form- ing part of the Sensorium. The like seems to be the case with regard to the sensitive surface which receives the vibrations that excite the sense of Sound; and also with respect to that which is affected by those odorous emanations which excite the sense of Smell. And it is common to these three organs, that neither the ganglionic expansions which receive these special impressions, nor the nerves proceeding from them, minister to common sensation ; so that either the Optic, the Olfactive, or the Auditory nerve may be pricked or pinched, without any sign of suffering being called forth. On the other hand, the Eye, the internal Ear, and the interior of the Nose, are endowed with common seusibility by other nerves distributed to those parts; so that if these nerves be paralysed, the surface to which they proceed may be touched without the contact being perceived, although neither Sight, Smell, nor Hearing may be impaired, save indirectly. 39. The Nerve-fibres which convey from the various parts of the body to the ganglionic centres those impressions which there excite Sensations, are called afferent or excitor* On the other hand, the Nerve-fibres which convey from the Ganglionic centres to the Muscles the impressions which call forth contractions in the latter, are called efferent or motor. It is probable that the nature of the Nerve-force excited in each is the same ; so that the same fibre might serve either purpose, if its terminals enabled it to do so,—just as the same wire in an Electric Telegraph can convey an electric current in either direction, and can thus serve alike for the transmission of a message and for its reply. But as the terminals of the two sets of Nerve-fibres are essentially distinct, one set serves for the reception of impressions at the circum- * They were formerly called sensory ; but this term is inappropriate, since the impressions they convey only affect our Consciousness—i. e. excite sensations— when they reach the Sensorium; %ad often excite respondent motions withoul doing bo. 38 Nervous System and its Functions. ference, and for their transmission to the ganglionic centres, whilst the other serves for the transmission of the impressions that call forth Muscular contraction, from the ganglionic centres to the various parts of the circumference.—In most Nerve-trunks, afferent and motor fibres are bound up together; although, in the ordinary Spinal nerves of Vertebrata, these are connected by separate "roots" with the Spinal Cord which serves as their ganglionic centre (§ 62). But the nerves of special sense (the Olfactive, Optic, and Auditory), which proceed to those special ganglionic centres of which the aggregate constitutes the Sen- sorium, contain no motor fibres; and there are other nerves of tho head in Vertebrata, which are either solely afferent or solely motor (Fig. 11). 40. The analogy just indicated between the two components of every Nervous System, and the two parts of an Electric Telegraph, —that in which change originates, and that which serves as the conductor,—holds good to this further extent; that as, for the origination of the Electric current, a certain Chemical reaction must take place between the exciting liquid and the galvanic combination of metals, so is it necessary, for the production of Nerve-force, that a reaction should take place between the Blood, on the one hand, and either the central nerve-cells, or the peripheral expansions of the nerve-fibres. We do not know, it is true, what is the precise nature of that reaction: but we have the evidence rf it in the large supply of Blood which goes to all Organs of Sense,—i.e., to organs which are adapted for receiving sensory impressions and transmitting them to the central Sensorium ; and, yet more, in the extraordinary proportion that is transmitted to those central organs which receive those impressions, render tho Mind cognizant of them as Sensations, and furnish the instrumental conditions of all Psychical operations, as well as of their action upon the Body. Thus, in the case of Man, although the Brain has not ordinarily more than about one-fortieth of the Nervous Activity dependent on Blood-supply. 39 weight of the body, yet it is estimated to receive from one-sixth to •ne-fifth of the whole circulating Blood. 41. The immediate dependence of the production of Nerve-force upon a reaotion between the Nerve-substance and the Blood, is proved by the effects of suspension of the circulation, whether local or general. Thu3, if the supply of blood to a limb be temporarily interrupted (as by pressure on its main artery), numbness, or diminution of Sensibility, is perceived in it, as well as loss of Muscular power (the hand or foot being " asleep "), until the circulation is re-established. The effect of complete interruption to the blood-supply of the Brain is extremely re- markable. That supply is conveyed into the cavity of the skull of Man and of the higher Vertebrata by four arterial trunks, which enter it at no great distance from one another, and then unite into the "circle of Willis;" from which are given off the various branches that distribute arterial blood to every part of the brain-substance. After traversing this, the blood returns by the veins, greatly altered in its chemical composition ; especially as regards the loss of free Oxygen, and its replacement by various oxy-compounds of Carbon, Hydrogen, Phosphorus, *-.** *jjj^v if ,%■■ Structure of Ventral Cord of Articulata. 51 Locomotive apparatus is highly developed, and its actions are of the most energetic kind, we find the Nervous system almost entirely subservient to this function. In its usual form, it consists of a chain of ganglia connected by a double cord ; commencing in the head, and passing backwards through the body (Fig. 7). The ganglia, though they usually appear single, are really double ; being composed of two equal halves closely united on the median line. In general we find a ganglion in each segment, giving-off nerves to the muscles of the legs, as in Insects, p. - Centipedes, &c.; or to the muscles that move the rings of the body when no extremities are developed, as in the Leech, Worm, &c. In the lower Vermiform (or worm-like) tribes, especially in the marine species, the number of segments is frequently very great, amounting even to several hundreds ; and the number of ganglia increases in the same proportion. But whatever be their degree of multiplication, they seem but repeti- tions of one another ; the functions of each segment being the same with those of the rest, The cephalic ganglia, however, are always larger and more important; they are connected with the organs of special Sense; and they evidently possess a power of directing and controlling the movements of the entire body, whilst the power of each ganglion of the trunk is for the most part con- fined to its own segment. 52. The Cephalic ganglia lie above the mouth, in the immediate neighbourhood of the eyes, with which they are connected by nerve-trunks. And from the constancy of the relation between the size of these ganglia and the development of the Visual organs, it cannot be doubted that they are to be regarded as essentially optic ganglia, though also containing the * GrANGLTATED NERVOUS CORD OF CENTIPEDE. 52 Nervous System and its Functions. ganglionic centres of the nerves of other Senses, altogether con- stituting the Sensorium.—These Cephalic ganglia are connected with the ganglion of the first segment of the trunk, by a band on either side ; and the pair of bands, with the ganglia above and below, form a ring through which the oesophagus passes, so that the chain of ganglia comes to lie nearer the lower or ventral surface, beneath the alimentary canal, instead of just beneath the dorsal surface, above the alimentary canal, which is the position of the Spinal cord of Vertebrata. Hence the longitudinal gangliated chain of Articulated animals is often distinguished as the ventral cord. 53. A marked difference is observable in the arrangement of the ganglia of the Ventral cord, according as the act of Locomotion is performed by muscles uniformly repeated through the succes- sive segments of the body, as in the crawling of the Maggot or Caterpillar ; or by the muscles of special appendages, attached to particular segments, as in the perfect Insect. In the former case, the ganglionic chain is uniform throughout; whilst in the latter, the ganglia of the thorax, with which are connected the nerves that supply the legs and wings, are greatly increased in size, whilst those of the abdomen, the segments of which no longer take any share in the act of locomotion, are proportionally reduced. The change from one condition to the other takes place during the metamorphosis.—When the structure of the Ventral cord is more particularly inquired into, it is found to consist of two distinct tracts; one of which, composed of nerve-fibres only, passes backwards from the Cephalic ganglia over the surface of all the ganglia of the trunk : whilst the other includes the collections of nerve-cells which constitute ganglia. Hence every part of the body has two sets of nervous connections; one with the ganglion of its own segment. and another with the Cephalic ganglia. Each of the ganglia of the Ventral cord ministers to the reflex actions of its own segment, and, to a certain extent also, to those of other segments : for by Reflex Actions of Articulata. 53 the peculiar arrangement of the fibres of the Cord, an impression conveyed by an afferent fibre to any one of these ganglia may excite contraction in the muscles of the same side of its own seg- ment, or in those of the opposite side, or in those of segments at a greater or less distance, according to the point at which the motor fibres leave the cord. On the other hand, impressions made upon the afferent fibres which proceed from any part of the body to the Cephalic ganglia, give rise to sensations when conveyed to the latter; whilst, in response to these, the influence of the Sensations received through the Cephalic ganglia, being reflected through the motor fibres proceeding from them, harmonizes and directs the general movements of the body. 54. Tho general conformation of Articulated animals, and the arrangement of the parts of their Nervous system, render them peculiarly favourable subjects for the study of the reflex actions; some of the principal phenomena of which will now be described.__ If the head of a Centipede be cut off whilst it is in motion, the body will continue to move onwards by the action of its legs • and the same will take place in the separate parts, if the body be divided into several distinct portions. After these actions have come to an end, they may be excited again by irritating any part of the Nerve-centres, or the cut extremity of the nervous cord. The body is moved forwards by the regular and successive action of the legs, as in the natural state ; but its movements are always forwards, never backwards, and are only directed to one side when the forward movement is checked by an interposed obstacle. Hence, although they might seem to indicate Consciousness and a guiding Will, they do not do so in reality; for they are performed as it were "mechanically;" and show no direction of object, no avoidance of danger. If the body be opposed in its progress by an obstacle of not more than half of its own height, it mounts over it and moves directly onwards, as in its natural state ; but if the obstacle be equal to its own height, its progress is arrested, 54 Nervous System and its Functions. and the cut extremity of the body remains forced-up against the opposing substance, the legs still continuing to move.—If, again, the Ventral cord of a Centipede be divided in the middle of the trunk, so that the hinder legs are cut off from connection with the Cephalic ganglia, they will continue to move, but not in harmony with those of the fore-part of the body; being completely paralysed, as far as the animal's controlling power is concerned, though still capable of performing reflex movements by the influence of their own ganglia, which may thus continue to propel the body in opposition to the determinations of the animal itself. __The case is still more remarkable when the Ventral cord is not merely divided, but a portion of it is entirely removed from the middle of the trunk : for the anterior legs still remain obedient to the animal's control; the legs of the segments from which the nervous cord has been removed are altogether motionless; whilst those of the posterior segments continue to act through the reflex powers of their own ganglia, in a manner which shows that the animal has no power of checking or directing them. 55. Another curious phenomenon of this kind is presented by the Mantis, a large Insect allied to the Grasshoppers and Crickets, but of less active habits; its conformation fitting it to lie in wait for its prey, rather than to go in search of it. The first segment of its thorax is greatly prolonged, and is furnished with a pair of larce and strong legs, ending in sharp claws; whilst the two posterior segments, and the legs attaohed to them, are of the ordinary type. From its resting on these last, and lifting up the first segment, with its legs stretched out as arms, in the attitude of prayer, though really in readiness for the capture of prey, the Mantis is regarded by the peasantry of Italy and the South of France, where it is common, with superstitious veneration, under the name of Prie-Dieu, and has hence acquired the specific name of religiosa. Now, if the head be cut off, the body still Reflex Actions of Insects. 55 retains its position, and resists attempts to overthrow it; while the arms close round anything that is introduced between them, and mpress their claws upon it. But further, if the first segment of the thorax with its attached members be cut off, the posterior part of the body wili still remain balanced upon the four legs that mpport it, not only resisting any attempts to overthrow it, but recovering its position when disturbed, and performing the same agitated movements of the wings and wing-covers as when the entire Insect is irritated; while the arms attached to the separated segment of the thorax will still act in the manner just described. Hence it is obvious that the ordinary movements of this Insect immediately depend on the reflex powers of the ganglia of the Ventral cord ; and that while the prey is actually captured by their instrumentality, the control exercised over these movements by the Cephalic ganglia serves to direct them towards the prey,— just as our own movements in walking, which are themselves acquired reflex actions of the Spinal cord (§ 71), are still directed by the Sight, while maintained without either Volitional or even conscious effort. i)6. The stimulus to the Reflex movements of the legs, in the foregoing cases, appears to be given by the contact of the extre- mities with the solid surface on which they rest. In other cases, the appropriate impression can only be made by the contact of liquid: thus a Dytiscus (a kind of water-beetle) from which the Cephalic ganglia had been removed, remained motionless so long as it rested upon a dry surface ; but when cast into water, it executed the usual swimming motions with great energy and rapidity, striking all its comrades to one side by its violence, and persisting in these for mere than half an hour.—Other movements, again, may be excited through the Respiratory surface. Thus, if the head of a Centipede be cut off, and, while the trunk remains at rest, some irritating vapour (such as that of ammonia or muriatic acid) be caused to enter the air-tubes on one side of it through the spiraclen 6 56 Nervous System and its Functions. or breathing-pores of that side, the body will be immediately bent in the opposite direction, so as to withdraw itself as much as possible from the influence of the vapour; if the same irritation be then applied on the other side, the reverse movement will take \ lace ; and the body may be caused to bend in two or three dif- ferent curves, by bringing the irritating vapour into the neighbour- hood of different parts of either side. This movement is evidently (like the acts of Coughing and Sneezing in the higher animals, § 47) a reflex one, and serves to withdraw the entrances of the air-tubes from the source of irritation. 57. From these and similar facts it appears that the ordinary movements of the legs and wings of Articulated animals are of a simply-reflex nature, being effected solely through the ganglia with which these organs are severally connected ; whilst in the perfect creature they are harmonized, controlled, and directed by the guidance they receive from the Cephalic ganglia, which combines them into those composite movements which are dis- tinguished as instinctive. This designation is now properly re- stricted to actions which, being performed without any guidance from experience, and executed in precisely the same manner (when the circumstances are similar) by all the individuals of a species, must be regarded as proceeding from an innate or con- stitutional tendency, corresponding with that which prompts our own primarily-automatic movements (§ 15). Instinctive actions, then, are as truly "reflex " in their character as are those we have been already considering, but differ from them only in their greater complexity; a combination of many separate impressions being needed to call them forth, and a combination of many distinct movements being concerned in their execution. The special directing power exerted by the Cephalic ganglia obviously depends upon their Sensorial attributes; for the directness of their connection with the organs of special Sense, and the con- stancy of the proportion which their size bears to the develop- Instinctive Actions of Insects. 57 ment of the Eyes, places it beyond doubt that they furnish the instrumentality whereby (1) the Animal is rendered conscious of Sense-impressions, and (2) that Consciousness prompts and directs its actions. Thus the truly Instinctive actions of the lower Animals correspond in character with the Sensori-motor or con- sensual actions in Man (§§ 78, 79), but constitute a far larger proportion of their entire life-work. In fact, it would appear that Instinct culminates in the Articulated series, and especially in the class of Insects; just as Intelligence does in the Verte- brated series, of which Man is the highest representative. In proportion as Instinct predominates, may we predict with cer- tainty the actions of the individual, when we know the life-history of the species; its whole aim being to work out a design which is formed for it, not by it, and the tendency to which is embodied (as it were) in its organization. In proportion, on the other hand, as the lower animals possess any share of the Rational nature of Man, which enables them to profit by experience, the mental processes which determine their actions become more complex and seem more variable in their results, so that our power of accurate prediction proportionally diminishes. Of this we have a curious illustration in the contrast between the Architectural operations of Insects and those of Birds (§ 82). 58. The most remarkable examples of instinctive action that the entire Animal Kingdom can furnish, are presented in the operations of Bees, Wasps, Ants, and other Social Insects; which construct habitations for themselves upon a plan which the most enlightened Human intelligence, working according to the most refined geometrical principles, could not surpass; but which yet do so without education communicated by their parents or progressive attempts of their own, and with no trace of hesitation, confusion, or interruption; the several individuals of a community all labouring effectively to one common end because their Instinctive or Consensual impulses are the same. 58 Nervous System and its Functions. —It might, indeed, be argued in the case of Hive-Bees (on whose life-history our notions of the range of Instinct are chiefly founded), that the extraordinary perfection of their workmanship, and the uniformity of the course they take under each of a great variety of contingencies, are to be accounted for by the experiential acquire- ment of knowledge, progressively improved, and transmitted from one generation to another; but this cannot possibly be admitted in the case of certain of the solitary Bees. For with regard to these it may be positively affirmed that the offspring can know nothing of the construction of its nest, either from its own experience, or from instruction communicated by its parent ; so that when it makes a nest of the very same pattern, we cannot regard it as anything else than a machine acting in accordance with its Nervous organization,—unless we suppose its actions to be directly prompted by "an overruling mind or purpose" outside itself, which takes them out of the category of Scientific investigation.— Still, that even Insects can learn by experience, must be obvious to those who study the actions of Bees when they have been newly hived ; for if the hive be placed among several others having similar entrances, the bees are obviously undecided, for the first few days, which entrance to make for; but soon come to recognize their own, as is shown by the straightness of their flight towards it. And Sir John Lubbock has succeeded in taming a Wasp to perform various actions that indicated a purposive direction guided by its individual experience. 59. In the change from the larva to the perfect or imago state of the Insect, besides the modifications already noted (§ 53), t he Cephalic ganglia undergo a great increase in size. This evidently lias reference to the increased development of the organs of special Sense in the latter ; the Eyes being much more perfectly formed, Antennae, and other appendages used for feeling being evolved, and organs of Hearing and Smell being added. In respondence to the new sensations which the animal must thus acquire, a great Instinctive Actions of Insects. 59 number of new instinctive actions are manifested ; indeed it may be said that the instincts of the perfect Insect have frequently nothing in common with those of the Larva. The former chiefly relate to the acts of reproduction, and to the provisions requisite for the deposit and protection of the eggs and for the early nutrition of the young; the latter have reference solely to the acquirement of food. The larva, indeed, may be regarded as a mere active embryo, which comes forth from the egg in an extremely immature condition, and then, having taken into itself an enormous amount of additional nutriment, goes back (as it were) into the quiescent state, in which this store of nutriment is applied to the develop- ment of the organs that characterize the perfect Insect. And there is evidence of an extremely curious kind, that the course of that development, and the nature of the instinctive tendencies which show themselves in the mature individual, are capable of being determined in certain cases by conditions purely Physical:— a. The " workers " among Hive-Bees are not really " neuters," but are undeveloped females ; every one of them being originally & potential Queen. They differ from the queen, or fertile female, however, not merely in the non-development of the reproductive organs (which shows itself in the inferior length of the abdomen), but also in the possession of the " pollen-baskets " on the thighs, which are used in the collection of pollen and propolis, and in the conformation of the jaws and antenna. But they differ yet more in their instincts; for whilst the life-work of the Queen is to lay eggs, that of the Workers is to build cells for their reception, to collect and store-up food, and to nurture the larvae,—this nurturing process being continued as a sort of incubation during the pupa-state. The Worker-larvae which come forth from the eggs that are laid in ordinary cells, are fed for three days upon a peculiar substance of jelly-like appearance, prepared in the stomachs of the workers; but afterwards upon "bee-bread" composed of a mixture of honey and pollen. The Queen-larvae, on the other hand, are reared in larger royal cells of peculiar construction; and they are fed during the whole of the larva-period upon the substance 60 Nervous System and its Functions. prepared by the workers, which is hence known as "royal jelly." The length of time occupied in their development is different; the preliminary stages of the Queen being passed through in sixteen days, whilst those of the Worker require twenty-one. b. Now it sometimes happens that, from some causes not under- stood, there is a failure in the production of young Queens, so that there are none forthcoming when wanted. The workers then select either worker-eggs or worker-larvae not yet three days old; and around these they construct " royal colls," by throwing together several adjacent worker-cells, and destroying the larvae they contain. The selected larvaB are fed with the " royal jelly," and are treated in every respect as Queen-larvae; and in due time they come forth as perfect Queens—thus having had not only their bodily organization, but their psychical nature, essentially altered by the nurture they have received. This last action is one which it is scarcely possible that either theory or experience could lead the Bees to perform : for not the most ingenious reasoning could have anticipated the fact, that by supplying a worker-larva with food of a different quality, and enlarging the cell around it, a change so remarkable should be produced in its structure, capacities, and instincts ; and the circum- stances of the case seem no less to forbid the notion that the Bees owe a knowledge of the process to experimental researches carried on either by themselves or by their ancestors, for the purpose of rocuring an artificial supply of queens when the natural supply fails. That recourse is uniformly had to it whenever the case requires, has been repeatedly shown by experiment; the removal of the parent-queen and of the royal larvae from the hive, being always followed by the manufacture (so to speak) of worker-larvae into new queens.—The irrationality of the impulse which prompts the Bees to this action, is evidenced by its occasional performance under circumstances which, if they could reason, would have shown them that it must be ineffective. A case has been recorded, in which a Queen, having only laid drone or male eggs, was stung to death by the workers, who cast her body out of the hive ; but being Nervous System of Vertebrata. 61 thus left without a queen, and no royal larvae being in process of development to replace her, the workers actually tried to obtain a queen by treating drone-\a.vY(B in the usual manner,—of course without effect. 60. Thus, then, while the Human organism may be likened to a keyed instrument, from which any music it is capable of producing can be called-forth at the will of the performer, we may compare a Bee or any other Insect to a barrel-organ, which plays with the greatest exactness a certain number of tunes that are set upon it, but can do nothing else.—The following fact, mentioned by Pierre Huber, affords a curious example of the purely automatic nature of instinctive action :— There is a Caterpillar that makes a very complicated hammock, the construction of which may he divided into six stages. One of these caterpillars which had completed its own hammock, having been transferred to another carried only to its third stage, completed this also by reperforming the fourth, fifth, and sixth stages. But another caterpillar taken out of a hammock which had been only carried to its third stage, and put into one already completed, appeared much embarrassed, and seemed forced to go back to the point at which it had itself left off, executing anew the fourth, fifth, and sixth stages which had been already wrought out. 61. While perfection in the Articulated series consists in the high development of that portion of the Nervous system which is immediately connected with the organs of Sense and of Motion, and which ministers to Instinct, perfection in the Vertebrated series shows itself in the high development of a superadded organ, the Cerebrum (Fig. 9), which is the instrument of In- telligence ; of this scarcely any trace is found in the Invertebrated classes, whilst but a mere rudiment presents itself in the lowest class of Vertebrata.—Notwithstanding the marked difference in general plan of structure between an Insect and a Fish, the Physiologist recognizes a close correspondence in the essential characters of their Nervous systems. For the Spinal cord of tb« 62 Nervous System and its Functions. latter is but a continuous series of ganglionic centres, directly connected with the Muscular apparatus of locomotion; whilst its Brain consists of several pairs of ganglia, which are for the most part, like the Cephalic ganglia of Insects, the imme- diate centres of the Sensory nerves. The Spinal cord (commonly termed the spinal marrow) is not, as was formerly supposed, a mere bundle of Nerves proceeding from the Brain; for, whilst serving to connect the Brain with the Nerve-trunks that supply the body generally, it is also an independent centre of reflex action. Although externally composed of longi- tudinal strands of fibrous substance, which, like that of the Nerve-trunks, acts mainly as a conductor of Nerve-force (§ 35), contains a sort of core of ganglionic substance, which en- larges in the parts of the Cord that give off the nerve-trunks supplying the locomotive members (§ 64). Although there is no actual division of this ganglionic matter into separate segments, as in the gangliated Ventral cord of Articulata (§ 51), yet their segmental division is marked in the regular succession of pairs of nerve-trunks (Fig. 1), which issue from it between the suc- cessive Vertebrae that make up the Spinal column. And these Nerve-trunks, like those of the gangliated cord of Articulata (§ 53), have two sets of connections with it: some of their fibres being traceable into its ganglionic substance, which is the centre of the reflex actions of each particular segment; whilst others are connected with its fibrous strands, and either pass into the ganglionic substance of the Cord at some distance above or below, or proceed continuously upwards towards the Brain. Thus, ' of their afferent fibres, some call forth reflex actions, either through their own segment of the Spinal cord, or through other segments above or below ; whilst others convey those impressions to the Sensorium, which there call forth Sensations. And of their motor fibres, some are excited to action by the reflex power of the segment of the Cord from which they seem to issue, and Afferent and Motor Nerves. 6$ others by that of segments above or below; whilst some execute the mandates of the Sensorial centres whose seat is in the head. 62. It is only in Vertebrate animals that a distinctness can be shown to exist between the afferent and the motor nerves: the proof of this distinctness being experimentally obtainable (1) through the separate origination of the two sets of fibres which are bound up in the trunk of each Spinal Nerve, by two bundles of roots (Fig. 11, 13, 14), of which the posterior are afferent, whilst the anterior are motor; and (2) through the distinct functions of some of the Nerves of the Head,—of which the Third, Fourth, and Sixth pairs, which supply the muscles of the Eye, the Seventh pair, which supplies the muscles of the Face generally, and the Ninth pair, which supplies the muscles of the Tongue, are motor only, whilst the Fifth pair is the general sensory nerve of the Face, having motor fibres only in its third division, which supplies the muscles of Mastication (Fig. 11). These nerves arise from that upward prolongation of the Spinal cord into the cavity of the skull, which is known as the Medulla oblongata, and which corresponds with the two lateral cords that diverge in Articulata to let the oesophagus go through (§ 52). As the whole Cerebrospinal tract of Vertebrata lies between the Alimentary canal and the dorsal aspect of the body, there is no such divergence between the two lateral halves of their Medulla oblongata; but there is a, fissure between them, which, obvious enough in Fishes (Fig. 8), is almost entirely closed in the higher Vertebrata, and is completely covered in by the Cerebellum. It is in the Medulla oblongata that the special ganglionic centre of the reflex movements of Respira- tion is lodged : the afferent or excitor nerves from the lungs (the Par vagum, Fig. 11), as well as from the face, proceeding to :t ; whilst other excitor fibres from the general surface, and the respondent motor fibres which call the respiratory muscles into action, are included in the ordinary nerve-trunks. 63. We should form a very erroneous notion of what essentially 64 Nervous System and its Functions. constitutes the brain of a Vertebrated animal, and of the mutual relations of the aggregate of ganglionic centres of which it is composed, if we were only to study it in Man. For the great relative size and complexity of his Cerebrum tends to con- ceal the fundamental importance of those ganglionic centres on which it is superposed, and which constitute a no less essential part of his brain than they do of that of Fishes, although their proportional size is so much less, as to lead to their being commonly regarded as merely subordinate appendages to the Cerebrum. The Brain of a Fish is almost entirely composed of an aggregate of Ganglia of Sense, which may be regarded as collectively constituting its Sensorium,— that is, according to ordinary phraseology, the " seat of consciousness," but, mora correctly, the Nerve-centre through the instrumentality of which the Ego becomes conscious of Sense-impressions. Putting aside the rudimentary Cerebrum, therefore, we may regard the Axial cord of the Fish (consisting of its Spinal cord with the Sensory ganglia) as the instrument, like the gangliated cord of the Insect, of its automatic movements; of which such as are executed through the Spinal centres do not involve Sensation, whilst in those of which the Sensory ganglia are the instruments, Sensation necessarily participates. When, on the other hand, in ascending the Vertebrate series from Fishes toward Man, we compare the different grades of development of the Cerebrum (Fig. 9) with the successively augmenting manifestations of intelligence (as exhibited in what we must regard as an intentional adaptation of means to ends under the direction of experience), we find so remarkable a correspondence, as scarcely to leave room for doubt that the Cerebrum is the instrument of those Psychical operations which we rank under the general designation rational. In proportion as the actions of an animal are directed by this endowment, the number of them that can be said to be primarily automatic, becomes not only relatively but absolutely limited ; although many Brain of Vertebrata. 65 actions (especially in Man) which were in the first instance initiated by the Will, come after long habit to be as truly Automatic as if they had been so originally (§ 71). 64. In the curious little Amphioxus or Lancelet, which is the lowest known type of a Vertebrate animal, there is nothing that can be properly called a Brain; and we have here one of those " experiments prepared for us by Nature " (as Cuvier termed them), which show that the Axial cord is the fundamental portion of the Nervous apparatus of the Vertebrate animal, as it is the first in order of development. The Amphioxus, having no eyes, has no Optic ganglia; and the Spinal cord has no ganglionic enlarge- ment, indicative of any speciality of function, where it enters the head. But the mouth is furnished with a fringe of filaments^ vhich are probably organs of Sense ; and the ganglionic centre of their nerves may be considered as the Sensorium.—In others of the lowest Fishes having a Cartilaginous skeleton and a uniform worm-like body, such as the Lamprey, the Spinal cord has a like uniformity throughout ; and the Brain consists merely of a cluster of ganglia within the skull, which scarcely bear a larger proportion to it, than do the Cephalic ganglia of Insects to the ganglia of their Ventral cord. But with the development of the Eyes and other organs of special Sense, we find the ganglionic centres of their nerves presenting a greatly increased size. The Brain of the Cod, viewed from above (Fig. 8, a), shows a series of three pairs of ganglia, lying in the same line with the Spinal cord : of which the first, ol, are the olfactive ganglia, or centres of the sense of Smell; while the third, op, which are the largest of all th 3 ganglionic masses, are the optic ganglia, or centres of the sense of Sight. Between these is a pair of ganglionic masses, ch, which are usually designated as the rudiments of the Cerebral HemispJieres i but they may, perhaps, be more properly regarded as representing the bodies termed corpora striata, which, in the Brains of the higher Vertebrata, form part of that series of ganglionic masses 66 Nervous System and its Functions. Fig. 8. lying along the floor of the skull, on which the Cerebrum is superposed (Figs. 12, 13). Behind the Optic ganglia is a single ganglionic mass, ce, the Cerebellum ; an organ which seems related rather to the regulation of the Movements of the Animal, than to its Psychical faculties, but of which the precise function has not been determined. The Spinal cord, sp, is seen to be divided at the top by a fissure, which is most wide and deep beneath the Cerebellum, where there is a complete separation between its two halves.—In the Shark, of which, though the skeleton is only cartilaginous, the genera] organization is very high, we find the olfactive ganglia, ol, lying at Brains of fish :—a, Cod ; b, Shark; some distance in front of the ol, Olfactory ganglia; ch, Cerebral ganglia; op, Optic ganglia; ce, Cerebral ganglia, ch, and con- Cerebellum ; sp, Spinal Cord. nected with them by peduncles or footstalks; the cerebral Ganglia are not only relatively much larger, but contain a more distinct rudiment of true Hemispheres separated from the Corpora Striata by a " ventricle " or cavity; the Cerebellum, too, is relatively larger.—In some Fish, separate ganglionic centres of the nerves of Hearing and Taste are found . on the under side of the Brain; whilst in others they are imbedded in the Medulla Oblongata, as is the case in Man. In the Vermiform Fishes, the Spinal cord is nearly uniform in size from one end to the other; but in those which have powerful pectoral and ventral fins (the representatives of the fore and hind limbs of land-animals) there is an enlargement of the Spinal cord in the segments which are connected with the nerves of each of these pairs of members. 65. In Reptiles we do not find any considerable advance in the Brain of Reptiles. 67 development of the Brain, save that the Cerebral Hemispheres are somewhat larger, extending forwards so as to cover-in the Olfactive ganglia, and backwards so as partly to overlie the Optic ganglia (Fig. 9). The Cerebellum is almost invariably small, in conformity with the general inertness of these animals, and the want of variety in their movements. The Spinal cord is still very large in proportion to the Brain ; and experiment proves (as will be presently shown) that the greater part of the ordinary movements of these animals are simply roflex, being excited through the afferent nerves proceed- ing to their ganglionic centre in the Spinal cord, which then reacts on the Muscles through the motor nerves. Where there is a unifor- mity of motor action through the whole series of Vertebral seg- ments, as in the Serpent, we find a uniformity in the size of the Spinal cord, and in the amount of ganglionic matter it contains, throughout its whole length,—just as in the Ventral cord of the Fig. 9. Brain of turtle, with diagrammatic representation of the increased development of the Cerebrum in higher Vertebrata:—A, Olfactory ganglia; b, Cerebral ganglia ; c, Optic ganglia; d, Cerebellum ; e, Spinal Cord; olf, Olfactory nerve; op, Optic nerve; 3, Third pair ; 4, Fourth pair ; 5, Fifth pair. Centipede (§ 51). But where the locomotive power is delegated to limbs which are appendages of particular segments, we find specia ganglionic enlargements of the Spinal cord in those segments,— 68 Nervous System and its Functions. just as in the Ventral cord of the perfect Insect (§ 53). Thus in the Lizards and Turtles, whose two pairs of members are nearly similar in locomotive power, we find an anterior and a posterior enlargement of the Spinal cord at the origins of their nerves ; whilst in the Frog, whose movements are chiefly effected by its hind legs, the posterior enlargement is the principal. 66. As it has been chiefly by experiments on Frogs and other Reptiles (in which the excitability of the Nervo-muscular apparatus is much longer retained after death than in warm-blooded animals) that the independent endowments of the Spinal cord as a centre of Reflex action, have been ascertained, it may be advantageous here to describe the results of these inquiries; and to compare them with what has been learned from observation of the results of disease or accident in Man.—When the Brain has been removed, or its functions have been suspended by a severe blow upon the head, a variety of motions may still be excited by appropriate stimuli. Thus, if the foot be pinched, or burned with a lighted taper, it is withdrawn; and (if the subject of the experiment be a Frog) the animal will leap away, as if to escape from the source of irritation. If the vent of a Frog be irritated with a probe, the hind-legs will endeavour to push it away. And if acetic acid be applied over the upper and inner part of the thigh, the foot of the same side will wipe it away; but if that foot be cut off, after some ineffectual efforts and a short period of inaction, the same movement will be made by the foot of the opposite side. 67. Now the performance of these as well as of many other movements that show a most remarkable adaptation to a purpose, might be supposed to indicate that sensations are called-up by the impressions ; and that the animal can not only feel, but can voluntarily direct its movements, so as to get rid of the irritation which annoys it. But such an inference would be inconsistent with other facts.—In the first place, the motions performed by an animal under such circumstances are never spontaneous, but are Reflex Actions of Frog. 69 alwayB excited by a stimulus of some kind. Thus, a decapitated Frog, after the first violent convulsive movements occasioned by the operation have passed away, remains at rest until it is touched ; and then the leg or its whole body may be thrown into sudden action, which immediately subsides again. Again, we find that Buch movements may be performed, not only when the Brain has been removed, the Spinal cord remaining entire, but also when the Spinal cord has been itself cut across, so as to be divided into two or more portions, each of them completely isolated from each other, and from other parts of the nervous centres. Thus, if the head of a Frog be cut-off, and its Spinal cord be divided in the middle of the back, so that its fore-legs remain connected with the upper part, and its hind-legs with the lower, each pair of members may be excited to movement by a stimulus applied to itself; but the two pairs will not exhibit any con- sentaneous motions, as they will do when the Spinal cord is undivided. Or, if the Spinal cord be cut across, without the removal of the Brain, the lower limbs may be excited to movement by an appropriate stimulus, though the animal has clearly no power over them ; whilst the upper remain under its control as completely as before. Now it is scarcely couceivable that, in this last case, Sensations should be felt and Volition exercised through the instrumentality of that portion of the Spinal cord which remains connected with the nerves of the posterior extre- mities, but which is cut-off from the Brain. For, if it were so, there must be two distinct centres of Sensation and Will in the same animal, the attributes of the Brain not being affected ; and, by dividing the Spinal cord into two or more segments, we might thus create in the body of one animal two or more such inde- * pendant centres, in addition to that which still holds its proper place within the head. To say that two or more distinct centres of Sensation and Will are present in such a case, would really be the same as saying that we have the power of constituting 70 Nervous System and its Functions. two or more distinct Egos in one body,—which is manifestly absurd. 68. But the best proofs of this limitation of the endowments of the Spinal Cord, are derived from the phenomena presented by the Human subject, in cases where that organ has suffered injury by disease or accident in the middle of the back. We find that when this injury has been severe enough to produce the effect of a complete division of the Cord, there is not only a total want of Volitional control over the lower extremities, but a complete absence of Sensibility also,—the individual not being in the least conscious of any impression made upon them. But when the lower segment of the Cord remains sound, and its nervous connexions with the limbs are unimpaired, distinct reflex movements may be excited in the limbs by stimuli directly applied to them; and this without the least Sensation on the part of the patient, either of the cause of the movement, or of the movement itself:— o. Among the notes left by John Hunter, there was the record of a case of Paralysis of the lower extremities, in which it appeared that Hunter had witnessed reflex movements of the legs of the patient, occasioned by excitation which did not produce Sensation. When the patient was asked whether he felt the irritation by which the motions were excited, he significantly replied—glancing at his limbs,—" No, Sir, but you see my legs do." (Of this interesting fact, the Writer was informed by^ his friend Sir James Paget, to whom Hunter's notes furnished materials for the admirable Catalogue which he drew up of the Pathological portion of the Hunterian Museum.) 6. In a case of Paralysis, recorded by Dr. William Budd, in which injurious pressure on the Spinal cord in the back was produced by angular distortion of the spine, the sensibility of the legs was extremely feeble, and the power of voluntary motion was almost entirely lost. When, however, any part of the skin of the legs waa pinched or pricked, the limb thus acted-on jumped with great viva- city ; the toes were retracted towards the instep, the foot raised on Reflex Actions in Man. 7l the heel, and the knee so bent as to raise it off the bed; the limb was maintained in this state of tension for several seconds after the withdrawal of the stimulus, and then became suddenly relaxed. In general, while one leg was convulsed, its fellow remained quiet, unless stimulus was applied to both at once. In these instances, the pricking and pinching were perceived by the patient; but much more violent contractions were excited by a stimulus of whose presence he was unconscious. When a feather was passed lightly over the skin, in the hollow of the instep, as if to tickle, convulsions occurred in the corresponding limb, much more vigorous than those induced by pinching or pricking; they succeeded one another in a rapid series of jerks, and these were repeated as long as the stimulus was maintained. But when any other part of the limb was irritated in the same way, the convulsions which ensued were very feeble, and much less powerful than those induced by pricking or pinching.—This patient gradually regained both the sensibility of the lower extremities, and voluntary power over them; and as voluntary power increased, the susceptibility to involuntary movements diminished, as did also their extent and power.—This case, then, exhibits an increased tendency to perform reflex actions, when the control of the Brain was suspended ; and it also shows that a slight impression upon the surface, of which the patient was not conscious, was more efficacious in exciting tho Automatic movements, than were others of a more powerful nature which affected the Sensorium. c. In another case recorded by Dr. W. Budd, the Paralysis was more extensive and complete, having been produced by an injury (resulting from a fall into the hold of a vessel) at the lower part of the neck. There was at first a total loss of Voluntary power over the lower extremities, trunk, and hands; slight voluntary power remained in the wrists, rather more in the elbows, and still more in the shoulders. The Sensibility of the hands and feet was greatly impaired. Recovery took place very gradually ; and during its progress, several remark- able phenomena of reflex action were observed. At first, tickling one sole excited to movement that limb only which was acted upon; afterwards, tickling either sole excited both legs, and, on the 26th day, not only the lower extremities, but the trunk and upper extremities also. Irritating the soles, by tickling or otherwise, was 72 Nervous System and its Functions. at first the only method, and always the most efficient one, by which convulsions could be excited. On the 41st day, a hot plate of metal was applied to the soles, and was found to be a more powerful excitor of movement than any before tried. The movements continued as long as the hot plate was kept applied; but the same plate, at the common temperature, excited no movements after the first contact. Though tho contact was distinctly felt by the patient, no sensation of heat was perceived by him, even when the plate was applied hot enough to cause blistering.—On the first return of Voluntary power, the patient was enabled to restrain in some measure the excited movements; but this required a distinct effort of his Will; and his first attempts to walk were curiously affected by the persistence of the susceptibility to reflex excitement. When he first attempted to stand, the knees immediately became forcibly bent under him ; this action of the legs being excited by contact of the soles with the ground. On the 95th day this effect did not take place, until the patient had made a few steps; the legs then had a tendency to bend up, a movement which he counteracted by rubbing the surface of the abdomen; this rubbing excited the extensors to action, and the legs became extended with a jerk. A few more steps were then made, the manoeuvre was repeated, and so on. This susceptibility to involuntary movements from impressions on the soles, gradually diminished; and on the 141st day, the patient was able to walk about, supporting himself on the back of a chair which he pushed before him; but his gait was unsteady. Sensation improved very slowly : it was on the 53rd day that he first slightly perceived the heat of the metal plate. —Now in this case, the abolition of Common Sensation was not so complete as in the former instance; but of the peculiar kind of im- pression which was found most efficacious in exciting reflex move- ments, no consciousness whatever was experienced. It is further interesting to remark, that the reflex actions were very feeble during the first seven days, in comparison with their subsequent energy; being limited to slight movements of the feet, which could not always be excited by tickling the soles. It is evident, then, that the Spinal Cord must have been in a state of concussion, which prevented the manifestation of its peculiar functions so long as this effect lasted ; and it is easy, therefore, to perceive, that a still more severe shock might permanently destroy its power, so as to prevent Reflex Actions hi Man, 73 the exhibition of any of the phenomena of reflex action.—(Medico- Chirurgical Transactions, vol. xxii., 1839.) 69. The dependence of the movements of Respiration and Deglutition (swallowing) upon the independent endowments of the ganglionic centres contained in the upper part of the Spinal cord, (§ 62) is equally well established.—It has occasionally happened that even Human infants have been born alive without any Brain ; and have lived and breathed for some hours—crying and even Bucking,—though they had no Nerve-centres above the Medulla Oblongata, And new-born puppies, reduced to the same condition by the removal of the whole contents of the skull except the Medulla Oblongata, have continued to perform the same actions. The independence of the Ganglionic centres, not only of the ordinary Spinal nerves, but of those which supply the muscles concerned in the acts of Breathing and Sucking, has been thus fully demon- strated. And the purely reflex character of the movement of Sucking in the new-born Mammal, is proved by the fact that it is immediately excited in a brainless puppy by introducing the finger moistened with milk between its lips. Now this act requires a combined contraction of a number of muscles,—those of grasping by the lips, those by which a vacuum is produced in the mouth, those of respiration, and those of swallowing,—all of which mani- fest the most perfect adaptation of means to ends; but it is clear that this adaptation is not made by any intention on the part of the Ego, but is the result of the working of its Nervous meohanism. If an Animal from which everything above the Medulla Oblongata b.is been removed has any Consciousness at all, it can be of no higher kind than that sense of need, which we ourselves experience when we hold our breath for a short time, and which directly prompts the movements that tend to its relief, without the least Idea, on our own parts, of the purpose which those movements will mswer. 70. These facts, taken in connexion with the preceding experi* 74 Nervous System and its Functions. ments both upon Vertebrated and Articulated animals, distinctly prove that Sensation is not a necessary link in the chain of reflex actions; but that ail which is required is the " nervous circle " already described (§ 471 Thus these movements are all necessarily linked with the stimulus that excites them; that is, the same stimulus will always produce the same movement, when the con- dition of the body is the same. Hence it is evident that the Judgment and Will are not concerned in producing them, and that the adaptiveness of the movements is no proof of the existence of consciousness and discrimination in the being that executes them ; such adaptation being made for the being—by the peculiar structure of its Nervous apparatus, which causes a certain move- ment to be executed in respondence to a given impression,—not by it. An animal thus circumstanced may be not unaptly com- pared to an Automaton, in which particular movements, each adapted to produce a given effect, are produced by touching certain springs. 71. It seems not improbable, however,, that some of these reflex movements,—such as are performed by the legs of a Frog as if with the purpose of removing a source of irritation (§ 66), __were not originally automatic, but have become so by habit; these secondarily automatic actions (as Hartley well designated them) coming to be performed with the same absence of Will or Intention, as the originally or primarily automatic. Such is pretty certainly the character we are to assign to the ordinary Locomotive actions of Man. For though we are accus- tomed to regard these as Voluntary, and although they are so in the sense that we can commence and stop them at will, yet they continue of themselves, when—having been once set going— our Will has been entirely withdrawn from them ; our whole attention being engrossed by some train of thought of our own, or by conversaticn with a companion. And it seems clear that in this case the succession of movements is purely reflex ; bein^ Secondarily-Automatic Movements in Man. 75 sustained by the successive contacts of our feet with the ground, each exciting the next action (§ 16). For numerous instances are on record, in which Soldiers have continued to march in a sound Bleep ; riding on horseback (which requires a constant exercise of the balancing power) during sleep is a not unfrequent occurrence ; and the Writer has been assured by an intelligent witness, that he has seen a very accomplished Pianist complete the performance of a piece of music in the same state.* A case has been mentioned to him by Dr. William Budd, of a patient subject to sudden attacks of temporary suspension of consciousness without con- vulsion, who, whenever the paroxysm came-on, persisted in the kind of movement in which he was engaged at the moment; and thus on one occasion fell into the water through continuing to walk onwards, and frequently (being a shoemaker by trade) wounded his fingers with the awl in his hand, by a repetition of the movement by which he was endeavouring to pierce the leather. 72. Now in all these forms of secondarily-automatic activity, it seems reasonable to infer that the same kind of connection between the excitor and the motor nerves comes to be formed by a process of gradual development, as originally exists in the Nervous systems of those animals whose movements are primarily auto- matic ; this portion of the Nervous mechanism of Man being so constituted, as to grow-to the mode in which it is habitually called into play.—Such an idea is supported by all that we know of the formation and persistence of habits of Nervo-muscular action. For it is a matter of universal experience, that such habits are far more readily acquired during the periods of Infancy, Childhood, and Youth, than they are after the attainment of * In playing by memory on a musical instrument, the muscular sense <§ 80) often suggests the sequence of movements with more certainty than the auditory ; and since it is certain that impressions derived from the Muscles may prompt and regulate successional Movements without affecting the Consciousness, there is no such improbability in the above statement as might at first sight appear. 76 A'ervous System and its Functions. adult age ; and that, the earlier they are acquired, the more tenaciously are they retained. Now it is whilst the Organism is growing most rapidly, and the greatest amount of new tissue is consequently being formed, that we should expect such new connections to be most readily established: and, it is then, too, that the nutritive processes most readily take-on that new mode of action (§ 276), which often becomes so completely a "second nature" as to keep-up a certain acquired mode of Nutrition through the whole subsequent life.—It is an additional and most important confirmation of this view, that (as was shown by Dr. Waller) when a Nerve-trunk has been cut-across, the re-establish- ment of its conductive power which takes-place after a certain interval, is not effected by the re-union of the divided fibres, but by the development of a new set of fibres beyond the point of section, in the place of the old ones (which undergo a gradual degenera- tion), the fibres on the central side remaining unaltered. And the same may be pretty certainly affirmed of that complete recovery of Nervous power in the hinder part of the body and limbs, which has been shown to take place by M. Brown-S6quard, after they had been entirely paralysed by complete division of the Spinal cord in the back. For if this recovery had been the result of simple re-union of the divided surfaces (as in an ordinary cut finger), the restoration of power,—of which no indication can be perceived for some weeks, and which altogether requires several months—would be much more speedy. The length of time required, which corresponds with that needed in Man after severe injuries to the Spine (§ 68), affords clear evidence that the process in these cases is really one of regeneration; and this fact, iv. connection with many others, shows that the Nervous substance is not only more capable of such complete regeneration than any other tissue in the body, but is in a state of more constant and rapid change. It will be shown hereafter (§§ 277-282) how intimate is the relation between Mental and Bodily habits ; and Convulsive Movements.—Tetanus. 7 7 --------------!_------------------------— - - how the formation and maintenance of both are dependent on this Nutritive reconstruction of the Nervous apparatus. 73. There are many irregular or abnormal Reflex actions, known as convulsiie, performed through the instrumentality of the Spinal cord, the study of which is peculiarly instructive. These move- ments are not produced by injuries of the Cerebral hemispheres ; but, in the production of them, the Sensory ganglia are often asso- ciated with the Spinal cord. They may either be (1) simply reflex, being the natural result of some extraordinary irritation; or (2) simply centric, depending upon an excited condition of the gan- glionic centres of the Spinal cord, which occasions muscular move- ments without any stimulation ; or (3) they may depend upon combined action on both principles ; the Nerve-centres being in a highly irritable state, which causes very slight irritations (such as would otherwise be inoperative) to excite violent reflex or convulsive movements. The undue excitability of the Spinal cord may have its origin in an abnormal state of the Blood : thus we know that it may be produced by the introduction of certain poisons (as Strychnia) into the circulation ; and it is probable that morbid matters generated within the body may have the same effect, and that the convulsive actions which occur in various diseased con- ditions of the system are generally due in part to that condition. Iu the case of the convulsions which are not unfrequent during the period of teething, being immediately excited by the irritation which results from the pressure of the tooth as it rises against the unyielding gum, the stimulus would be insufficient to produce the violent result, were it not for a peculiarly excitable state of the Spinal cord, brought about by various causes, amongst which im- pure air and unwholesome food are the most potent. In like manner, when such an excitable state exists, to which children are peculiarly liable, convulsions may be occasioned by the presence of intestinal worms, of irritating substances, or even simply of un- digested matters, in the alimentary canal; and will cease as soon 7& Nervous System and its Functions. -------------------------------------------1-------------- as they are cleared-out, in the same manner as the convulsions of teething may often be at once checked by the free lancing of the gums. A change to a purer atmosphere is commonly found the most efficacious means of reducing the morbid excitability of the Spinal cord, and thus of diminishing the liability to the recurrence of the Convulsion. 74. The influence of the condition of the Spinal cord itself is manifested in the convulsive diseases known as Tetanus, Epilepsy, and Hysteria.—In Tetanu* (commonly known as " lock-jaw ") there is a peculiarly excitable state of the Spinal cord and Medulla oblongata, not extending to the higher centres. This may be the result of causes altogether internal; the condition exactly re- sembling that which may be artificially induced by the adminis- tration of Stiychnia, or by its application to the Cord. Or it may be first occasioned by some local irritation, as that of a lacerated wound ; the irritation of the injured nerve being propa- gated to the Nerve-centres, and establishing the excitable state in them.—In like manner, Epilepsy, which consists in a combi- nation of Convulsive actions with temporary suspension of Consciousness, may result from the irritation of local causes, like the convulsions of teething; and may cease, like them, when the sources of irritation are removed. It appears probable from recent researches, that the sudden but temporary suspension of the functions of the Brain, may be due to the spasmodic contraction of the vessels of the Sensorium, induced by the extension of the reflex motor impulse to the "vaso-motor" Nerves (§ 113). Certain forms of Epilepsy, on the other hand, are distinctly traceable to diseased states of the highest Nerve-centres. (See Appendix.) 75. These and other forms of Convulsive disorder, when pro- ductive of a fatal result, usually act by suspending the Respiratory movements; the muscles that effect these being fixed by the spasm, which thus prevents the air from passing either in or out; so that suffocation takes place as completely as if the entrance to the air- Brain of' JJiras.—Instinctive Actions. 79 passages were closed.—It is remarkable that nearly every one of them may be imitated by Hysteria j a state of the Nervous system which is characterized by its peculiar excitability, but in which there is no such fixed tendency to irregular action as would indicate any positive disease ; one form of convulsion often taking the place of another, at short intervals, with the most wonderful variety. This state is generally connected with an undue excita- bility of the Emotions; and, from their known influence on the " vaso-motor" Nerves (§§ 113, 5Q5), it seems likely that many of its manifestations are produced through the instrumentality of that system. 76. Proceeding now to the Class of Birds, we find a considerable advance in the character of the Brain as compared with that of Reptiles. The Cerebral hemispheres are greatly increased in size ; so as to cover-in not merely the Olfactory ganglia, but in great part also the Optic ganglia The former are of comparatively small size, the organ of Smell in Birds not being much developed : the latter are very large, in conformity with the acuteness of Sight which is their special characteristic. The Cerebellum is of large size, in conformity with the active and varied muscular movements per- formed by animals of this class; but it consists chiefly of the central lobe, with little appearance of lateral hemispheres. The Spinal cord is still of considerable size in comparison with the Brain ; and it is much enlarged at the points whence the legs and wings originate. In the species which have the most energetic flight, such as the Swallow, the enlargement is the greatest where the nerves of the wings come off; but in those which, like the Ostrich, move princi- pally by running on the ground, the posterior enlargement, from which the legs are supp'ied with nerves, is much the more considerable. 77. It is not a litt'e curious that Birds,—which present so many points of analogy to Insects in structure as well as in mode 7 Bo Nervous System and its Functions of life, as to have been called the " Insects of the Vertebrated series,"—should strongly resemble Insects also in the high develop- ment of their instincts; i.e., the marked tendencies they show to particular kinds of movement, at the stimulus and under the guidance of particular sensations, without any experience to direct them. Thus, even the Chick within the egg sets itself free by tapping with its bill (furnished at that time with a sharp horny scale, which soon afterwards falls off) against the shell that encloses it; and, having once penetrated this, carries its chipping in a regular circle round the large end of the shell, which then drops off. In no long time after its escape, it raises itself upon its legs, and soon begins to run about, and to peck at insects, grains, &c, with a very sure aim. Mr. Spalding, who has recently made a series of very interesting observations on this point, found that if he "hooded" Chicks, or put them into a bag immediately on coming forth from the egg, and kept them so for two or three days until they could run about, the first effect of uncovering their eyes was to produce a sort of stunned condition; but recovering from this in a minute or two, they would immediately follow the movements of crawling insects, and peck at them with unerring aim. So, he tells us, chickens hatched and kept in the bag for a day or two, when taken out and kept nine or ten feet from a box in which a hen with chicks was concealed, after standing for a minute or two, uniformly set off straight for the box in answer to the call of the hen, though they had never seen her, and had never before heard her voice. This they did, struggling through grass, and over rough ground, when not yet able to stand steadily upon their legs. Even hooded chicks tried to make their way towards the hen, obviously guided by sound alone. So, on the other hand, a turkey only ten days old, which had never in its life seen a hawk, was so alarmed by the note of a hawk secreted in a cupboard, that it fled in the direction opposite to the cupboard with every sign of terror.* * Macmillan's Magazine, Feb., 1873. Sensori-motor or Instinctive Actions in Man. 81 78. Now these actions clearly belong to the class which the Phy- siologist terms Sensori-motor or Consensual; being the reflex actions of that higher division of the Nerve-centres, which con- sists of the Sensory ganglia as distinguished from the Cerebrum. The sense of Sight obviously affords the chief direction of the movements of Birds : and that the Sensory ganglia, in these higher Vertebrata, continue to furnish the instrumentality through which Sensations are excited by impressions made on the organs of Sense, and respondent motions are called forth, appears from the effect of experimental removal of the Cerebral hemispheres of Birds, the Sensory ganglia being left intact. For a Bird thus mutilated maintains its equilibrium, and recovers it when it has been disturbed; if pushed, it walks ; if thrown into the air, it flies. A Pigeon deprived of its Cerebrum has been observed to seek out the light parts of a partially-illuminated room in which it was confined, and to avoid objects that lay in its way ; and at night, when sleeping with closed eyes and its head under its wing, it raised its head and opened its eyes upon the slightest noise.—So, again, the removal or destruction of either pair of these Sensory centres appears to involve the loss of the particu- lar Sense to which it ministers ; and frequently, also, to occasion such a disturbance in the ordinary movements of the animal, as shows the importance of these centres in regulating them. Such experiments have been chiefly made upon the Optic ganglia ; the partial loss of which on one side produces temporary blindness in the eye of the opposite side, and partial loss of muscular power on the opposite side of the body ; whilst the removal of a larger portion, or the complete extirpation of it, occasions permaneut blindness and immobility of the pupil, and temporary muscular weakness, on the opposite side. This temporary disorder of the Muscular system sometimes manifests itself in a tendency to move on the axis, as if the animal were giddy; and sometimes in irregular convulsive movements.—Here, then, we have proof of the 82 Nervous System and its Fwictions. necessity of the integrity of this ganglionic centre, for the possession of the sense of Vision ; and we have further proof that the ganglion is connected with the Muscular apparatus by motor fibres issuing from it. The reason why the Eye of the oppositt side is affected, is to be found in the crossing of the optic nerves in their course towards the optic ganglia; whilst the influence of the operation on the Muscles of the opposite side of the body, results from the like crossing of the motor fibres in their downward course through the Medulla oblongata.— Similar disturbances of movement have been produced by injuries to the organs of Sense themselves, or to the nerves connecting them with the Sensorial centres. Thus the division of one of the "semicircular canals" of the Ear in pigeons and rabbits has been found to occasion constant efforts to move in the plane of that canal. (See Appendix.) 79. Notwithstanding that, in Man, the high development of Intelligence, and the exercise of the Will, supersede in great degree the operations of Instinct, we still find that there are in ourselves certain movements which can be distinguished as neither Volitional nor Excito-motor; being as truly Automatic as the latter, but requiring that the impressions which originate them should be felt as Sensations.—As examples of this group, we may advert to the start upon a loud and unexpected sound ; the sudden closure of the eyes to a dazzling light, or on the approach of bodies that might injure them, which has been observed to take place even in cases of paralysis, in which the eyelids could not be voluntarily closed; the act of sneezing excited by an irritation within the nostril, and sometimes also by a dazzling light; the semi- convulsive movements and the laughter called forth by tickling; and the vomiting occasioned by the sight or the smell of a loath- some object. So, again, the act of yawning, ordinarily called forth by certain uneasy sensations within ourselves, is also excited by the sight or hearing of the act as performed by another.—Various Influence of Guiding Sensations in Man. 83 phenomena of Disease exhibit the powerful influence of Sensations in producing automatic motions. In Hydrophobia, for example the stimuli most effectual in exciting the convulsive movements, are those which act through the nerves of special Sense ; thus the sight or the sound of water will bring on the paroxysm, and any attempt to taste it increases the severity of the convulsions ; and it is further not a little significant, that the suggestion of the idea of water will produce the same result (§ 105).—In many Hysteric subjects, again, the sight of a paroxysm in another individual is the most certain means of its induction in them- selves.—'The most remarkable examples, however, of automatic movements depending upon Sensations, are those which we come to perform habitually, and as we commonly say mechanically, when the attention and the voluntary effort are directed in quite a different channel (§§ 191-194). The man who is walking through the streets in a complete reverie, unravelling some knotty subject, or working-out a mathematical problem, not only performs the movements of progression (which are themselves excito-motor, § 7l) with great regularity, but also directs these in a manner which plainly indicates the guidance of Sight. For he will avoid obstacles in the line of his path, and he will follow the course which he has been accustomed to take, although he may have intended to pass along some very different route ; and it is not until his attention is recalled to his situation, that his train of thought suffers the least intermission, so that his Will is brought to bear upon his motions (§ 117). 80. We may recognize the agency of the Sensory ganglia, how- ever, in Man, not merely in their direct and independent operation upon his muscular system, but also in the manner in which they participate in all his Voluntary actions. The existence of a sensation of some kind, in connection with muscular exertion, seems essen- tial to the continuance of the latter. Our ordinary movements are guided by what is termed the muscular sense ; that is, by a feeling 84 Nervous System and its Functions. of the condition of the muscles, that comes to us through their own afferent nerves. How necessary this is to the exercise of Muscular power, may be best judged-of from cases in which it has been deficient. Thus a woman who had suffered complete loss of sensation in one arm, but who retained its motor power, found that she could not support her infant upon it without constantly looking at the child; and that if she were to remove her eyes for a moment, the child would fall, in spite of her knowledge that her infant was resting upon her arm, and of her desire to sustain it. Here, the Muscular sense being entirely deficient, the sense of Vision supplied what was required, so long as it was exercised upon the object; but as soon as this guiding influence was withdrawn, the strongest Will could not sustain the muscular contraction.—Again, in the produc- tion of Vocal sounds, the nice adjustment of the muscles of the larynx, which is requisite to produce determinate tones, can only be effected in obedience to a Mental conception of the tone to be uttered ; and this conception cannot be formed, unless the sense of Hearing has previously brought similar tones to the mind. Hence it is that persons who are born deaf are also dumb. They may have no malformation of the organs of Speech; but they are un- able to utter distinct vocal sounds or musical tones, because they have not the guiding conception or recalled sensation of the nature of these. By long training, and by efforts directed by the Muscular sense of the larynx itself, some persons thus circum- stanced have acquired the power of speech ; but the want of sufficiently definite control over the vocal muscles, is always very evident in their use of the organ.—So, again, all the combinations of diverse Muscular actions which take place in the conjoint move- ments of the eyes, can be shown to be executed by this automatic Mechanism under the guidance of the Visual sense; the mandate to direct the eyes to a given point, being all that is issued by the Will (§ 21). 81. There seems no adequate reason for the belief that th« Intelligence of Birds. 85 addition of the Cerebrum in the Vertebrated series alters the endowments of the Sensory ganglia on which it is superposed ; on the contrary, we everywhere see that the addition of new ganglionic centres, as instruments of new functions, leaves those which were previously existing in the discharge of their original duties. Hence we should be led to regard them as the instruments of Consciousness, even in Man,—each pair of ganglionic centres ministering to that peculiar kind of sensation for which its nerves and the organs they supply are set apart; thus we should consider the Optic ganglia to be the seat of Visual sensations, the Auditory to be the seat of the sense of Hearing, and so on. And we should also consider them as the instruments whereby Sensations, of whatever kind, either originate or direct instinctive movements. The mechanism of all such movements, in fact, may be regarded as consisting of that part of the Nervous system which answers to the entire gangliated Cord of Articulated Animals, whose active life may be characterised as almost purely instinctive. And we shall presently see that this automatic Apparatus is as readily distinguishable from the Cerebrum (which is the instrument of Intelligence) even in Man, as it is in the lower Vertebrata ; pro- vided that we study the structure of his Brain under the guidance of Comparative Anatomy. 82. It would be impossible to find a better illustration of the contrast between Instinct and Intelligence as springs of action, than is afforded by the comparison of the habits of Birds in a state of Nature, with those which they acquire when brought into relation with Man. There can be no reasonable doubt that their Architectural constructions, like those of Insects, proceed from an internal impulse, which prompts each individual of a species to build after one particular pattern, to choose a situation suitable to its requirements, and to go in search of materials of a certain kind, though others might be much more easily obtained. But, on the sther hand, in the working-out of this design, it is clear that Birds 86 Nervous System and its Functions. often profit by experience, and learn to use special means when Bpecial ends have to be provided for.—The following case, narrated by Mr. Jesse, supplies a very good example of this intelligential modification of the instinctive tendency :— a. A pair of Jackdaws endeavoured to construct their nest in one of the small windows that lighted the spiral staircase of an old church tower. As is usual, however, in such windows, the sill sloped inwards, with a considerable inclination; and, consequently, there being no level base for the nest, as soon as a few sticks had been laid, and it was beginning to acquire weight, it slid down. This seems to have happened two or three times; nevertheless the birds clung with great pertinacity to the site they had selected, and at last devised a most ingenious method of overcoming the difficulty. Col- lecting a great number of sticks, they built up a sort of cone upou the staircase, the summit of which rose to the level of the window- sill, and afforded the requisite support to the nest; this cone was not less than six feet high, and so large at its base as quite to obstruct the passage up the staircase; yet, notwithstanding the large amount of material which it contained, it was known to have been constructed within four or five days.—Now as this was a device quite foreign to the natural habit of the bird, and only hit-upon after the repeated failure of its ordinary method of nest-building, the curious adaptation of means to ends which it displayed can scarcely be regarded in any other light, than as proceeding from a design in the minds of the individuals who executed it. The following circumstance, again, which was related to the Writer by a friend who witnessed it, shows how readily some Birds will spontaneously learn to profit by experience in matters which arise out of their relation to Man :— b. A Wren having built her nest in a rather dangerous situation in the slate-quarries at Penrhyn, was liable to great disturbance from the occasional explosions. She soon learned, however, to take warning by the sound of the bell, which was rung to give notice to the work- men when a blast was about to be made; and would then quit her neat and fly to a little distance, remaining there until the shock of the ex* Intelligence and Educability of Birds. 87 plosion had passed off. This was noticed by the workmen ; and the sagacity of the Wren was made a subject of exhibition to the visitors at the quarries, the bell being frequently rung for the mere purpose of causing her to quit her nest. After a time, however, it was observed that the bird no longer flew away upon the ringing of the bell, but that she remained until she saw whether or no the workmen began to move; if they drew off, she would go too ; but if they re- mained in their places, she would not stir.—Now this conduct, saga- cious as it may appear, is evidently explicable on a very simple hypothesis of the Mental operations of the bird. Observant, from its elevated post, of all that took place in its neighbourhood, the wren in the first instance learnt by experience to associate the ringing of the bell with the coming explosion, so as to anticipate the latter on the occurrence of the former. Being frequently disturbed, however, by the demonstration of her sagacity, and driven without occasion from her nest, the bird would perceive that this first association no longer held good ; and nothing but a further period of observation was re- quired for the bird to derive a more positive warning from the departure of the workmen, from which she learned by experience that a certain indication of the approaching explosion might be derived. None of those higher processes which enter into our more complex trains of Reasoning, were here required; the mere formation of an association, which gives the data for all these, which is the foundation of all knowledge derived from experience, and which appears to be the faculty first called into action in the mind of the Human infant, being quite sufficient to account for it (§ 217). Another instance in which a Bird, without any direct teaching, learned to perform a particular action altogether foreign to its nature, was related to the Writer by a Swiss friend who had often witnessed the occurrence :— c. In the town in which he was brought up, was a domesticated Stork, which was accustomed to receive its food every evening about six o'clock, along with the ordinary poultry; and the latter, being usually allowed to roam at large in the streets, were collected to- gether, at the proper time, by a man who went through the town in search of them. The Stork, after having thus learned not to expect 88 Nervous System and its Functions. its food until the poultry had been all collected, spontaneously accom- panied the collector, and assisted him in bringing the fowls together: and after doing this for a considerable time, becoming gradually more and more independent and self-relying, it became quite competent to perform this duty for itself, and was at last intrusted with it, so that it might be seen on any evening, gravely perambulating the town, collecting its flock of poultry, and driving it home, just as a Shepherd's Dog collects the sheep. So, again, Rooks and other birds which live in the neighbour- hood of Man, and are liable to be shot-at, often show in their actions that they distinguish whether a man who approaches them carries a gun, or not; and are said to be able to distinguish a gun from a walking-stick put to the shoulder after the manner of a gun. And it is further noticeable that they distinguish Sunday from other days; flying lower than usual, and sometimes visiting gardens where they would not venture on the days on which they would be liable to be molested. Whether they distinguish the day by some of its outward signs, or are guided by that remarkable power cf measuring Time which many animals certainly possess, cannot be stated with certainty.—The following circumstance, of which the Writer is personally cognizant, indicates the acquirement of the same kind of knowledge :— d. In a Ladies' school formerly kept near Bristol, it was customary for the young people to go into the play-ground for a few minutes every week-day, soon after twelve o'clock, and there to eat their luncheon. The crumbs of bread which they dropped on the ground proved very attractive to the sparrows in the neighbourhood, which would congre- gate on the walls of the garden a little before twelve every day, waiting for the appearance of their young friends, and patiently anticipating the time when the return of the ladies into the school- room would allow them to profit by their leavings. But on Sundays, the habits of the family were altogether different; the visit to the play-ground gave place to attendance on public worship, and the mid- day luncheon to an early dinner ; on that day, therefore, the sparrows went without their accustomed meal. But it was obvious that they Intelligence and Educability of Birds. 89 did not expect it; for it might be observed by any one who happened to remain at home on Sunday morning, that the usual mid-day gathering did not present itself,—the sparrows having evidently learned, not merely to judge very accurately of the approach of noon on the week-days on which they might expect their feed, but also to distinguish the day on which they must dispense with it. 83. The Birds of the Parrot tribe are pre-eminent for their edu- cability and apparent intelligence : but this educability chiefly lepends upon their great imitative power ; and their intelligence is really of a very low order, consisting in an exercise of the simple faculty of Association, the manifestations of which are chiefly re- markable as taking the form of vocal utterances. The associations which the Parrot forms between certain vocal sounds and certain visual objects, lead it often to give forth the former under circum- stances of singular appropriateness ; but it would be quite a mis- take to attribute such utterances to any higher intelligence than that of a young child just learning to talk, which repeats the phrases it has learned by imitation, without any distinct idea of their meaning, but sometimes brings them in remarkably b, propos. A very good illustration of both faculties is afforded by a couple of anecdotes which the Writer remembers to have heard in his youth from his aged friend Mr. Palmer of Bristol :— In Mr. Palmer's younger days, when Bristol was largely engaged in the African slave-trade, the large grey Parrots (which are far more intelligent than the green) were very numerous in that city, and often created great amusement. There was one which hung outside a shop in the neighbourhood of the quay, and had a remarkable tact in distinguishing sailors ; and if a sailor happened to stop before his cage when he was in the middle of singing Handel's 104th psalm (which he performed most correctly), he would break off from " My soul praise tho Lord, " into " D----n your eyes, you fool, what are you looking at ? " The sight of a sailor obviously called forth the phraseology which the bird had been accustomed to associate with that class.—Another Parrot caused no small degree of persona] 90 Net votes System and its Functions. annoyance to Mr. Palmer himself. In his younger days, when an attorney's clerk, he was somewhat given to dandyism, and particularly rejoiced in a very long queue. A parrot, which was accustomed to hang outside the window of a house that he passed in his way between his residence and his office, was taught by some waggish boys to salute-him with—" There goes the man with the long pig- tail ; " and this the parrot learned to sing-out, without any prompt- ing, whenever Mr. Palmer made his appearance; the continual repetition of which remark was so disagreeable to him, that he changed his route, and went through another street, to avoid it.— Now we have no reason to suppose that the bird knew the meaning of what it uttered, or was itself cognizant of the remarkable length of Mr. Palmer's pigtail; it simply learned to distinguish the individual, and to utter the phrase which it had been taught to associate with the sight of him.—On the same simple principles we may explain most, if not all, of what appears most marvellous in the accounts of wonderful Parrots, given to the world from time to time. (See, for example, Jesse's Gleanings in Natural History, 5th Edit., p. 220.) 84. It is a fact of no little interest, that Birds which inhabit localities not frequented by Man, know no fear of him, but allow him to approach them closely. Thus, when Mr. Darwin visited the Galapagos islands, he found that mocking-birds and finches, doves, and hawks, would allow him to come near enough to kill them with a stick, and sometimes even to catch them with the hand. The early visitors to the Falkland islands, a century previously, made the same report of the tameness of the birds they found there ; and the descendants of these birds still exhibit very little of that apprehension which is shown by the birds of the same species in Tierra del Fuego, where they have been persecuted by man for ages past. The experience of many generations seems to be needed for the acquirement of this fear of man; which us Mr. Darwin remarked, appears to have the character of an hereditary instinct, rather than to proceed from knowledge tradi- tionally communicated from one generation to another, — the experience being gradually embodied, as it were, in the constitu- Brain of Mammalia. 91 tions of the Birds, and showing itself, like other congenital tendencies, in the actions they perform without any process of education. Here, then, we have a simple case of that hereditary transmission of acquired Psychical peculiarities, w7hich seems to have a large share in the progressive development of the Human Mind (§§ 93, 97). 85. We arrive, lastly, at the Class of Mammalia : in which the development of the Cerebrum comes to be so predominant, as to Fig. 10. I. II. Brains of Rodents :—I, Babbit; II. Beaver, with the Hemispheres drawn apart:—a, Olfactory Ganglia ; b, Cerebral Hemispheres ; c, Optic Ganglia ; d, Cerebellum; e, Spinal Cord ; k, Thalami Optici; m, Corpora Striata. mask what has been shown to constitute the fundamental part of the organization of the Brain,—namely the Sensorial tract at its base. Still, among those lower Mammals in which the Brain does not present any great advance upon that of Birds, the Sensorial tract can be at once recognized as something altogether distinct from the Cerebrum, if we simply draw apart the Hemispheres, 9 2 Nervous System and its Functions. which, in their natural position, cover it in. Thus, in the Order Rodentia, the Cerebrum (b, Fig. 10) is smooth externally, as it is in Birds and Reptiles ; it is pointed in front, and is not prolonged sufficiently far forwards to cover the olfactive ganglia (a, a) ; but it is wider behind, and is prolonged so far backwards as completely to cover-in the optic ganglia, and even partly to overlap the Cerebellum (d). But, on drawing its hemispheres apart, we find the optic ganglia (c) lying immediately in front of the Cerebellum; whilst in front of these, again, are two pairs of ganglionic masses, known as the Tlialami optici (k) and the Corpora striata (m), which may be probably regarded as the terminations of the sensory and motor columns of the Spinal cord, and as ministering to the sense of Touch, and to the movements immediately related to it. The Tlialami have also a connection with the optic nerves; and it does not seem improbable that this connection is instrumental in the establishment of that co-ordination between the senses of Sight and of Touch, which is so essential to the formation of trust- worthy Perceptions of external objects (§ 167). 86. The large proportion which the Sensory ganglia still bear to the Cerebral hemispheres, and the low development of the latter ■—as marked by the smoothness of their surface, not less than by their relative size—are in accordance with the predominance of Instinct over Intelligence, which still marks the psychical character of these lower Mammalia, and of which we have a conspicuous example in the Beaver. There could scarcely be a better example of the irrationality of Instinct, than is afforded by the following account, given by Mr. Broderip, of a Beaver which he kept in his house :— "The building instinct showed itself immediately it was let out of its cage, and materials were placed in its way; and this before it had been a week in its new quarters. Its strength, even before it was half-grown, was great. It would drag along a large sweeping-brush, or a warming-pan, grasping the handle with its teeth so that the load Building Instinct of Beaver. 93 came over its shoulder, and advancing in an oblique direction till it arrived at the point where it wished to place it. The long and large materials were always taken first, and two of the longest were gene- rally laid crosswise, with one of the ends of each touching the wall, and the other end projecting out into the room. The area formed by the cross-brushes and the wall he would fill up with hand-brushes, rush-baskets, boots, books, sticks, cloths, dried turf, or anything portable. As the work grew high, he supported himself on his tail, which propped him up admirably ; and he would often, after laying on one of his building materials, sit up over against it, appearing to consider his work, or, as the country people say, 'judge it.' This pause was sometimes followed by changing the position of the mate- rial 'judged,' and sometimes it was left in its place. After he had piled up his materials in one part of the room (for he generally chose the same place), he proceeded to wall up the space between the feet of a chest of drawers which stood at a little distance from it, high enough on its legs to make the bottom a roof for him, using for this purpose dried turf and sticks, which he laid very even, and filling up the interstices with bits of coal, hay, cloth, or anything he could pick up. This last place he seemed to appropriate for his dwelling ; the former work seemed to be intended for a dam." Nothing could be more absurd, from the reasoning point of view, than the attempt of the animal to construct a dam where there was no water, or to build up a house where he was already comfortably lodged; but the innate architectural impulse was obviously uncontrolled by any perception of the entire uusuit- ableness of the work to the conditions under which it was being carried out, under the guidance of a "judgment" which had reference to conditions that did not exist. 87. As we rise through the Mammalian series towards Man, we find not only a marked increase in the absolute bulk of the Cerebral » hemispheres, and a yet greater relative excess in their size as compared with the aggregate of that of the Sensory ganglia, but an augmentation of their functional powers beyond all proportion to their size, which is derived from the peculiar manner in which 94 Nervous System and its Functions. their ganglionic matter is disposed. In all ordinary ganglia, the Nerve-cells on whose presence their special attributes depend (§ 36), form a sort of internal nucleus; but in the Cerebrum they are spread-out on the surface, forming an external or cortical layer. This layer is covered by a membrane termed the pia mater, which is entirely composed of Blood-vessels held together by connec- tive tissue ; and thus a copious supply of blood is brought to this important part. But the extent of the cortical layer, and of its contact with the pia mater, is enormously increased by its being thrown into folds, so as to produce what is known as the con- voluted surface of the Hemispheres (Figs. 11-13) ; for the pia mater everywhere dips-down into the furrows between the convolutions, so as to supply the deepest parts of this plicated ganglionic layer, equally with the most superficial. And thus it comes to pass that the supply of Blood to the Cortical layer is far larger in proportion to the amount of its substance, than it is to any other part of the body. Of the enormous amount distributed to the J3rain as a whole (§ 40), by far the greater part goes to the cortical layer of "grey" or "ganglionic" substance; the "white" or "fibrous" structure of the interior, often termed the Medullary substance, which constitutes by far the larger portion of the bulk of the Brain (Figs. 12, 13), receiving comparatively little. It is clear, therefore, that the functional activity of the Cerebrum is immensely aug- mented by the folding of its Cortical layer; and that its capacity for the production of Nerve-force is marked by the number and depth of its plications, no less than by its absolute size. In the higher orders of Mammalia, the convolutions are well marked ; but we do not find them either numerous or complex in their arrangement until we approach Man ; and even in the hio-hest Apes they are considerably shallower and less numerous than in the lowest examples of the Human brain. (See Appendix.) 88. The Brain of Man (Fig. 11) differs from that of the animals that most nearly approach him, rather in its large size—as com- Brain of Man. 95 pared alike with the Body generally, and with the Spinal cord,— than in any other character. For in the higher Apes, as in Man, we find that backward development of the Cerebrum into a posterior lobe, which makes it cover-in the Cerebellum ; whilst in them, as in him, the anterior lobes have a much greater breadth, as well as greater forward extension, than in the lower Mammalia. There is, however, a marked diversity in respect Fig. 11. 7 n y 10 0 f Brain and cephalic nerves of Man, as shown in vertical section through the median plane : —a, b, c, anterior, middle, and posterior lobes of the Cerebrum, showing its convoluted surface; d, Optic ganglia; e, Cerebellum ; f, Spinal Cord; c, corpus callosum;—1, Olfactory bulb; 2, Eye, with Optic nerve; 5, 5', 5'', Fifth pair of Nerves; 6, Sixth pair; 7, Seventh pair; 9, Glossopharyngeal nerve; 10, Par Vagum ; 11, Hypo- glossal ; 12, Spinal Accessory; 13, 14, ordinary double-rooted Spinal Nerves. of size between the Brains of different Races of men ; those of the most civilized stocks, whose powers have been culti- 96 Nervous System and its Functions. vated and improved by Education through a long series of generations, being for the most part considerably larger than those of Savage tribes, or of the least advanced among our own peasantry. So far as can be judged from the few cases which have furnished adequate materials for the determination, the brains of those earliest Races of men, which (like the old "flint- folk") had made but a very slight advance in the arts of life, Fig. 12. Diagram of the mutual relations of the principal Encephalic Centres, as shown in vertical section :—a, Cerebrum; b, Cere- bellum ; c, Sensori-motor tract, including the Olfactive ganglion olf, the Optic opt, and the Auditory aud, with the Thalami optici thai, and the Corpora striata cs ; d, Medulla oblongata ; e, Spinal cord ;— a, olfactive nerve ; b, optic; c, auditory ; d, pneumogastric : e, hypo- glossal ; /, spinal :—radiating fibres of the Medullary substance of the Cerebrum are shown, connecting its cortical layer with the Thalami optici and Corpora striata, were extremely small. Thus the inference, based on Comparative Anatomy, as to the relation between the development of the Brain of Man. 97 Cerebrum and the predominance of Intelligence over Instinct, seems to hold good when applied to the diversities we encounter in the Human type; and of this we have a further confirmation in the fact, that where the Cerebrum is so imperfectly developed as to be greatly under the average size, there is a marked deficiency in Intelligence, amounting to absolute Idiocy. The unfortunate Fig. 13. Diagram of the mutual relations of the Cerebrum and the Sensori-motor tract, as shown in horizontal section : —a, a, Cortical layer of Cerebral Hemispheres, connected w\ta Sensori-motor tract by ascending fibres (shown on the left side) radiating from thai, the Thalami optici, and by descending fibres (shown on the right side) con- verging to cs, the Corpora striata; olf, Olfactive ganglia ; opt, Optic ganglia ; aud, Auditory ganglia ; a, a, Olfactive nerves ; b, b, Optic nerves ; c, c, Auditory nerves ; e, Spinal Cord. beings thus characterized, are guided almost solely by their Instinctive tendencies, which frequently manifest themselves with a degree of strength that, would not have been supposed to exist; 98 Nervous System and its Functions. and Instincts occasionally present themselves, of which the Human being is ordinarily regarded as destitute, and which may be presumed to be survivals of those which characterized some lower grade of his development. On the other hand, those who have obtained most influence over the understandings of others, have generally been large-brained persons, of strong Intellectual ani Volitional powers, whose Emotional tendencies have been sub- ordinated to their Reason and Will, and who have devoted their whole energy to the particular objects of their pursuit.—It is veiy different, however, with those who are chiefly actuated by what is ordinarily termed genius; and whose influence is rather upon the feelings and intuitions, than upon the understandings, of others. Such persons are often very deficient in the power of even com- prehending the ordinary affairs of life; and still more commonly, they show a want of judgment in the management of them, being too much under the immediate influence of their Passions and Emotions, which they do not sufficiently endeavour to control by their Intelligent Will. The life of a "genius," whether his bent be towards poetry, music, painting, or pursuits of a more material character, is too often one which cannot be held-up for imitation. In such persons, when the general power of the mind is low, the Cerebrum is not usually found of any great size.—The mere com- parative size of the Cerebrum, however, affords no accurate measure of the amount of Mental power; for we not unfrequently meet with men possessing large and well-formed heads, whose Psychical capability is not greater than that of others, the dimensions of whose crania have the same general proportion, but are of much less absolute size. Large brains, with deficient activity, are commonly found in persons of what is termed the phlegmatic temperament, in whom the general processes of life seem in a torpid and indolent state; whilst small brains and great activity, betoken what are known as the sanguine and nervous temperaments. Brain of Man:—Cerebral Hemisphei'es. 99 89. It is not only, however, by their size, and by the special de- velopment of their Cortical layer, that the Cerebral hemispheres of Man are distinguished from those of the lower Mammalia; for they are further remarkable for the elaborateness of their internal structure, which shows itself especially in the complexity of the jurangement of the nerve-fibres of which the Medullary substance is composed. These may be grouped under three principal divisions. The first, which may be distinguished as the radiating fibres, connect the different parts of the Cortical layer with the Sensori- motor tract on which the Cerebrum is superposed (Figs. 12, 13); and it is probable that there are two sets of these,—one ascending from the Thalami optici (which seem to form the terminals of the sensory tract of the Axial cord) to the Cortical layer, and conveying to it the result of the Physical changes produced in them by the Sense-impressions which they receive ;—the other descending from the Cortical layer to the Corpora striata (which seem to form the terminals of the motor tract of the Axial cord), and conveying to them the Physical results of the changes which take place in itself. These fibres, which bring the instrument of Intelligence and Will into relation with that portion of the Nervous apparatus which furnishes the Mechanism of sensation and of the automatic or instinctive motions, were called by a sagacious old Anatomist, Reil, the nerves of the internal senses; and under that name they will be frequently referred-to in this Treatise.—The second set of fibres brings the several parts of the Cortical layer of each Hemisphere into mutual communica- tion. The arrangement of these commissural fibres is peculiarly complex in Man : one particular group of them is known as the Fornix, or great longitudinal commissure.—The third set of fibres, termed inter-cerebral, connects the two Hemispheres together, through the medium of a broad band which is known as the Corpus callosum, or great transverse commissure (Fig. 11, c). This also is much more developed in Man, relatively to the size of hia ioo Nervous System audits Functions. Cerebrum, than it is in any of the lower Mammalia. It is altogether wanting in Fishes, Reptiles, and Birds ; and there is little more than a rudiment of it in Marsupials and Rodents. Cases have occurred in which it has been nearly, or even entirely, deficient in Man ; and it is significant that the chief defect in the characters of such individuals has been observed to be a want of forethought, i. e., of power to apply the experience of the past to the anticipation of the future. 90. Thus, then, we see that the Cerebrum is a special organ superadded to that automatic Mechanism which constitutes the fundamental and essential part of the Nervous system, even in Man ; and which not only supplies the conditions requisite for the maintenance of his Organic functions (§ 32), but ministers to the operations of the Cerebrum itself. For it is through the fibres ascending from the Sensorium to the Cortical layer of the Cerebrum, that the latter derives all that stimulus to its activity, which is furnished by the Ego's consciousness of the changes taking place in the external world ;* while it is through the descending fibres that the results of Cerebral change are en- abled to produce, through the motor portion of the apparatus, those Muscular movements by which the Mind expresses itself in action. We have now to enquire more closely into the mode in which the Cerebrum is subservient to those higher Mental operations, the capacity for which constitutes the distinguishing characteristic of Man, but to which we may trace very distinct approximations among the lower Mammalia. 91. We have seen that, so far as any Animal is dominated by instinct, it is a creature of necessity ; performing its instrumental part in the economy of Nature from no design or will of its own, but as an automaton executing that limited series of actions foi * Here and elsewhere, the term "external world" is meant to include all that is external to the Mind itself,— thus iaking-in the changes which occui in the Ego's own Bodily organism. Progressive Evolution of Intelligence. 101 which its Mechanism fits it: and further, that the highest develop- ment of the Instinctive tendencies, with the lowest proportional manifestation of Intelligence, is to be found in Insects. On the other hand, that type of Psychical perfection which consists in the highest development of the reason, and in the supreme domi- nation of the will, to which all the automatic actions—save those which are absolutely essential to the maintenance of the Organic functions—are brought under subjection, is presented in Man; who, in his most elevated phase, is not only a thinking and reflecting, but a self-determining and self-controlling agent, all whose actions are performed with a definite purpose which is distinctly within his own view, and are adapted to the attainment of that purpose by his own Intelligence. But as, in ascending the Vertebrated series, we observe that the Cerebrum is at first a mere rudimentary organ, and approximates but very gradually to the high development it attains in Man, so do we observe that the Psychical manifestations of its successive types exhibit a greater and yet greater approximation in kind to those of which he is capable. And this approximation becomes more obvious, when we compare them, not with those of the Adult, but with those of the Infant and young Child. For whilst the actions of the new-born Infant are entirely automatic, being directly prompted by present sensations, it soon becomes obvious that simple ideas are being formed as to the objects which excite those sensations, and that the actions begin to be guided by the experience with which these ideas are associated ; and this is just what we recognize in studying the actions of such of the lower V ertebrata as wre can bring under our observation. In the acts of the higher Mammals, as in those of the Child, we cannot fail to perceive the manifestations of true reasoning processes, analogous to those which we ourselves perform; together with the expressions of emotional states corresponding more or less closely to our own. Such are especially noticeable in the Dog, the Horse, and ths IQ2 Nervous System and its Functions. Elephant; which, having been trained into subservience to Man's requirements, and having come to possess a peculiar sympathetic attachment to him of which other species seem incapable, acquire a peculiar insight into what is passiug in his mind, which helps to shape their course of action. In so far as that action is based upon the distinct conception of a purpose, and is carried-out by the means suggested by their experience as most suitable to its attain- ment, these animals participate in the rational nature of Man. But there seems no adequate ground for crediting them with that power of rejecting upon their own Mental states, which is required for the Intellectual processes of Abstraction and Generalization (§ 227); their most sagacious performances being readily accounted for by the automatic action of Association (§ 218). 92. Of all breeds of Dogs, there is none more distinguished for sagacity than the one which has probably been longest asso- ciated with Man,—namely the Shepherd's Dog. " The shepherd," says Mr. T. Bell {British Quadrupeds, p. 234) " who tends his hundreds or thousands of sheep on the moors and mountain-sides of Scotland and of Wales, or on the extensive and trackless downs of Wiltshire, commits his almost countless charge to the care of his Dogs, with the certainty that their safety and welfare will be surely provided-for by the activity, watchfulness, and courage of these intelligent and faithful guardians. Some of the recorded instances of the almost human sagacity evinced by this valuable race would exceed belief, were they not authenticated by the most credible witnesses. In Scotland, particularly, where the flocks are so liable to be lost in snow-wreaths, these qualities are beyond all price ; and are often exhibited in a manner equally affecting and wonderful."—The following is a very remarkable case of this kind, which occurred in the experience of James Hogg, the Ettrick Shepherd, the associate of Walter Scott and Christopher North :— "He was," quoth the Shepherd, "beyond all comparison, tl.o best dog I ever saw. He was of a surly, unsociable temper, dis- Intelligence of Dogs. 103 daining all flattery, and refused to be caressed; but his attention to his Master's commands and interests will never again be equalled by any of the canine race. When he first came into my possession, ha was scarcely a year old, and knew so little of herding, that he had never turned a sheep in his life ; but as soon as he discovered that it was his duty to do so, and that it obliged me, I can never forget with what anxiety and eagerness he learned his different evolutions. Ho would try every way deliberately, till he found out what I wanted him to do; and when once I made him to understand a direction, he never forgot or mistook it again. Well as I knew him, he often astonished me ; for when hard pressed in accomplishing the task he was put to, he had expedients of the moment that bespoke a great share of the reasoning faculty." Mr. Hogg goes on to narrate the following, among other remarkable exploits, in illustration of Sirrah's sagacity. About seven hundred lambs, which were at once under his care at weaning-time, broke up at midnight, and scampered off in three divisions across the hills, in Bpite of all that the Shepherd and an assistant lad could do to keep them together. " Sirrah," cried the Shepherd in great affliction, " my man, they're a' awa." The night was so dark that he did not see Sirrah ; but the faithful animal had heard his master's words—words such as of all others were sure to set him most on the alert; and without any delay, he silently set off in quest of the recreant flock. Meanwhile the Shepherd and his companion did not fail to do all that was in their power to recover their lost charge; they spent the whole night in scouring the hills for miles around, but of neither the lambs nor Sirrah could they obtain the slightest trace. "It was the most extraordinary circumstance," says the Shepherd, "that had ever occurred in the annals of the pastoral life. We had nothing for it (day having dawned), but to return to our master, and inform him that we had lost his whole flock of lambs, and knew not what was hecomo of ono of them. On our way home, however, we discovered a body of iambs at the bottom of a deep ravine, called the Flesh Clench, and the indefatigable Sirrah standing in front of them, looking all around for some relief, but still standing true to his charge. The sun was then up; and when we first came in view of them, we concluded that it was one of the divisions of the lambs, which Sirrah had been unable to manage until ho came to that commanding situation. But 8 104 Nervous System and its Functions. what was our astonishment, when we discovered by degrees that not one lamb of the whole flock was wanting! How he had got all the divisions collected in the dark is beyond my comprehension. The charge was left entirely to himself, from midnight until the rising of the sun; and if all the shepherds in the forest had been there to have assisted him, they could not have effected it with greater propriety. All that I can further say is, that I never felt so grateful to any creature below the sun, as I did to my honest Sirrah that morning." 93. In this and other exercises of Intelligence, we may trace the manifestations of an hereditary transmission of aptitudes for par- ticular kinds of Mental action, which have been originally acquired by habit. Dogs of other breeds cannot be taught to herd sheep in the manner which " comes naturally" to the young of the Shep- herd's Dog. And it is well known that young Pointers and Retrievers, when first taken into the field, will often " work " as well as if they had been long trained to the requirements of the sportsman. The curious fact was observed by Mr. Knight, that the young of a breed of Springing Spaniels which had been trained for several successive generations to find Woodcocks, seemed to know as well as the old dogs what degree of frost would drive the birds to seek their food in unfrozen springs and rills.—Among the descendants of the Dogs originally introduced into South America by the Spaniards, there are breeds which have learned by their own experience, without any Human training, the best modes of attacking the wild animals they pursue; and since young dogs have been observed to practise these methods the very first time they engage in the chase, with as much address as old dogs, it can scarcely be questioned that the tendency to the performance of them has been embodied in the Organization of the Race, and is thus transmitted hereditarily.—There seems reason to believe that such hereditary transmission is limited to acquired peculiarities which are simply, modifications of the natural constitution of the Race, and would not extend to such as may be altogether foreign to it. Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Faculties. 105 But the foregoing facts would seem to justify the belief that the like hereditary transmission of acquired aptitudes may take place in Man ; and that, in accordance with the far wider range of his faculties, it may become the means of a far higher exaltation cf them (§ 97). 94. Whilst, however, we fully recognize the possession, by many cf the lower Animals, of an Intelligence comparable (up to a certain point) with that of Man, we find no evidence that any of them have a Volitional power of directing their Mental operations, at all similar to his. These operations, indeed, seem to be of very much the same character as those which we perform in Reverie or connected Dreams; different " trains of thought" commencing as they are suggested, and proceeding according to the laws of Association until some other disturb them. So long, in fact, as the current of thought and feeling flows on under the sole guidance of Suggestion, and without any interference from the Will, it may be considered as the expression of the reflex action of the Cerebrum, called forth, like that of other Nerve-centres, by the stimulus conveyed to it from without; the seat of that activity being its expanded layer of Cortical substance.* This reflex action manifests itself not only in Psychical change, but also in Muscular movements : and these may either proceed from simple Ideas, without any excitement of Feeling, in which case they may be designated ideo-motor; whilst, if they are prompted by a Passion or Emotion, they are known as emotional. The nature of the response made by the reflex action of the Cerebrum will depend upon the condition of that organ at the time when it receives the impression; and that condition, among the lower Animals, may be regarded as the resultant, in each individual, of • The extension of the doctrine of Reflex action to the Brain was first advocated by Dr. Laycock in a very important Essay read before the British Association in 1844 ; and published in the "British and Foreign Medical Review " for January 1845. [ 06 Nervous System and its Functions. the modifications which its inherited Constitution has undergone from the influence of external circumstances. 95. But whilst the Cerebrum of Man, in common with that of the lower Animals, has a reflex activity of its own—which, in the first instance, may be regarded as the direct resultant of his congenital Constitution, modified by early training,—an additional and most important influence subsequently comes into play; namely, the directing and controlling power of the Ego's own Will, in virtue of which he can to a great degree direct his thoughts and control his feelings, and can thus rise superior to circumstances, make the most advantageous use of the intellectual faculties with which he may be endowed, and keep his appetites and passions under subordination to his higher nature. And in proportion as he does this, will he so shape his Cerebral mechanism (which, like all other parts of the organism, grows-to the manner in which it is habitually exercised), that its automatic responses will be the expressions of the modes of activity in which he has brought it habitually to work,—just as the "trained" Horse auto- matically does that of itself, which it did originally under the will of its master. Thus each Human Ego, at any one moment, may be said to be the general resultant of his whole Conscious Life ; the direction of which has been determined in the first instance by his congenital Constitution, secondly by the education he has received from the Will of others or from the discipline of circumstances, and thirdly by the Volitional power he has himself exercised. 96. It is not only, however, in the possession of this self- determining power, that the Psychical nature of Man is distin- guished from that of the animals whose organization most nearly approaches his own ; for if his Intellectual and Moral capacity were limited, as narrowly as theirs seems to be, by the Mechanism of bis Br'tin, he could never pass that limit. So far as the lower animals are guided by Instinct, the actions of each species are prompted by its own sense of need, and have a direct (though not a iseli- Capacity for Psychical Improvement 107 m i. ■■ ■—-—■■ ■ ■ ■ designed) adaptation to the supply of them. And these actions we see repeated from generation to generation, with no other variation than may arise from a change of circumstances, which necessitates some modification of the habit. Even where Intelligence comes into play, and a designed adaptation of means to ends, of actions to circumstances, is made by an individual, the Race does not seem to profit by that experience. And where the iufluence of Man has been exerted in the domestication of wild animals, it does not appear to produce any permanent improvement in their Psychical characters, but merely developes it in the manner suitable to his own requirements (§ 91); so that when such domesticated Races are left to themselves, they cease in a few generations to show any indication of the training they have received, and relapse into their original wildness. In the Human species, on the other hand, we observe not merely an unlimited capacity for Psychical eleva- tion, but an unlimited desire to attain it; and this desire serves to stimulate Man not merely to the acquirement of knowledge, and to the application of it in the amelioration of his physical con- dition, but to the improvement of his Moral nature, by determi- nately repressing its lower propensities, and by fostering those which he feels to constitute the true nobility of his character. 97. But there is an element in Human nature ranging even beyond this desire and capacity for progress; which, though diffi- cult to define, manifestly interpenetrates and blends-with his whole Psychical character. " The Soul," says Francis Newman, " is that side of our nature which is in relation with the Infinite ;'' and it is the existence of this relation, in whatever way we may describe it, which seems to constitute Man's most distinctive peculiarity. For it is in the aspiration after a nobler and purer ideal, that the highest spring of Human progress may be said to consist; and it is this which is the source of those notions of Truth, Goodness, and Beauty in the abstract, which seem peculiar to the higher types of Humanity Whatever capacity for progress may exist among the io8 Nervous System and its Functions. lower Races (and this is a question which still remains open to determination by experience), the desire for it—as among the lowest part of our own " practical heathen" population—seems altogether dormant. When once thoroughly awakened, however, it " grows by what it feeds on;" and the advance once commenced, little external stimulus is needed, for the desire increases at least as fast as the capacity. In the higher grades of Mental development, there is a continual looking-upwards, not (as in the lower) towards a more elevated Human standard, but at once to something beyond and above Man and material nature (§ 213). And in proportion as the love of truth for its own sake constitutes the incentive of our Intellectual efforts, as the love of goodness for its own sake animates our endeavours to bring our own Moral nature into conformity with it, and oar love of the highest type of beauty withdraws us from all that is low and sensual, are we not only elevating ourselves towarda our Ideal, but contributing to the elevation of our race. For we seem justified by the whole tendency of modern Physiological research, in the belief that alike by the discipline we exert over ourselves, and by the influence we exercise over others, will every effort judiciously directed towards the improvement of our Psychical nature impress itself upon our Physical constitution; and that, by the genetic transmission of such modifications, will the capacity of future generations for yet higher elevation be progressively augmented. 98. It is, in fact, upon the course of our strictly Mental operations, that the Will exerts its most powerful, and what is commonly regarded as its most direct influence. But it appears to the Writer that this influence is by no means so direct as is com- monly supposed; and that observation of our own Psychical phenomena entirely justifies the belief, which Physiological consi- derations tend to establish,—that the operations of the Cerebrum are in themselves as automatic as are those of other Nerve-centres, and that tho Volitional control which we exercise over our Relation of Cerebrum to Sensorium. 109 thoughts, feelings, and actions, operates through the selective attention we determinately bestow upon certain of the impressions made upon the Sensorium, out of the entire aggregate brought thither by the " nerves of the internal senses " (§ 89). In this point of view, it is the Sensorium, not the Cerebrum, with which the Will is in most direct relation; and in order that this doctrine (which lies at the basis of the whole inquiiy as to the relation of the Will to motives, and the mode in which it determines our character and actions) may be rightly apprehended, it is necessary here to consider the following Physiological question :—Whether Cerebral changes are in themselves attended with consciousness, or whether we only become conscious of Cerebral changes as states of ideation, emotion, dec, through the instrumentality of the Sensorium, —that is, of that aggregate of Sense-ganglia, through the instru- mentality of which we become conscious of external Sense-im- pressions, and thus feel sensations. 99. The Brain, as a wJiole, has been commonly regarded, alike by Psychologists and by Physiologists, as " the seat of conscious- ness ;"—or, to speak more precisely, as the instrument through which we become conscious of the impressions made by external objects upon our organs of Sense: whilst the Ego has been sup- posed by Metaphysicians to be directly conscious of all Mental operations; or rather/these operations are regarded as "states of consciousness," not in any way requiring material instrumentality. Those Psychologists, however, who recognize the cogency of those considerations which force on the Physiologist the conviction that " Brain-change" is a necessaiy condition of all Mental action, appear generally to take for granted that all " Brain-change" must be attended with Consciousness : entirely ignoring the fact that the Brain is an aggregate of ganglionic centres havino- very distinct functions ; and that the Cerebrum, which in Man is by far the largest of those centres, is not the part of the brain which ministers to what may be called the " outer life " of the 110 Nervous System and its Functions. Animal, but is the instrument exclusively of its "inner life,"—that is, of those psychical operations, of which the sensations received from the outer world constitute the mental pabulum. Now this inner life seems to have no existence in that vast section of the Animal Kingdom, which is most distinguished by the activity of its outer life, viz. the Class of Insects : and taking the Nervous system of that Class as the type of an automatic Apparatus which furnishes all the conditions required for Sensation and Motion, as well as for the working of those fixed or mechanical modes of action which we term instincts, we have found that a precisely analogous Automatic apparatus exists through the entire Vertebrated series, that it constitutes almost the whole Nervous system of the Fish, and that it is distinctly recognizable as the fundamental or essential part of that of Man, in whom the vast relative development of the Cerebrum merely indicates a tuperaddition of new functions, without affording the least ground to believe that there is any transfer to it of the proper attributes of the automatic Apparatus. And it has been shown that this indication is confirmed by the results of the experimental removal of the Cerebrum in Birds (§ 78); which prove that (due allow- ance being made for the disturbance in the action of other parts of the Brain, necessarily produced by the operation) the Sensori- motor apparatus, which ministers to the outer life, retains its functional activity. Further, it has been positively established, alike by experiments on Animals, and by observation of the phenomena of disease and accident in Man, that the substance of the Cerebrum is itself insensible; that is, no injury done to it, or physical impression made upon it, is felt by the subject of it (See Appendix). As it is clear, therefore, that the presence of ihe Cerebrum is not essential to Consciousness, we have next to inquire in what way it seems most likely that the Consciousness is affected by Cerebral changes. 100. When we compare the anatomical relation of the Sensorium, Relation of Cerebrum to Sensorium. 111 »n the one hand to the Cortical layer of the Cerebrum, and on the other to that Retinal expansion of ganglionic matter which is the recipient of Visual impressions, we find the two to be so precisely identical (§ 89), as to suggest that its physiological relation to those two organs must be the same. And as we only beoome conscious of the luminous impression by which Nerve- force has been excited in the retina, when the transmission of that nerve-force through the nerve of external sense has excited a change in the Sensorium, so it would seem probable that we only become conscious of the further change excited in our Cerebrum by the Sensorial stimulus transmitted along its ascending fibres, when the reflexion of the Cerebral modification along its descend- ing fibres—the nerves of the internal senses—has brought it to re-act on the Sensorium. In this point of view, the Sensorium is the one centre of consciousness for Visual impressions on the Eye (and, by analogy, on the other Organs of Sense), and for Ideational or Emotional modifications in the Cerebrum :—that is, in the one case, for sensations, when we become conscious of Sense- impressions ; and, on the other, for ideas and emotions, when our consciousness has been affected by Cerebral changes. Accord- ing to this view, we no more think or feel with our Cerebrum, than we see with our eyes; but the Ego becomes conscious through the same instrumentality of the retinal changes which are translated (as it were) by the Sensorium into visual sensa- tions, and of the Cerebral changes which it translates into Ideas or Emotions. The mystery lies in the act of translation; and is no greater in the excitement of ideational or emotional consciousness by Cerebral change, than in the excitement of lensational consciousness by Retinal change. 101. Now although there may seem no d, priori objection to this view, yet it may be thought to introduce needless complication into what was previously a simple account of the relation of the Brain to Mental phenomena. But this notion of "simplicity" 112 Nervous System and its Functions. "is really based on ignorance ; and when the phenomena of repro- duced Sensations are carefully considered, they will be found to fit in with it so exactly, as scarcely to admit of being accounted for in any other way. There are many persons who can bring up before the " mind's eye," with extraordinary vividness, the pictures of scenes or persons they have been formerly familial with ; while to many who cannot thus recall them volitionally, these pictures present themselves automatically, as in dreaming or delinum. Thus Dr. Abercrombie relates of Niebuhr, the celebrated Danish traveller, that:— a. " When old, blind, and so infirm that he was able only to be carried from his bed to his chair, he used to describe to his friends the scenes which he had visited in his early days, with wonderful minuteness and vivacity. When they expressed their astonishment, he told them that as he lay in bed, all visible objects shut out, the pictures of what he had seen in the East continually floated before his mind's eye, so that it was no wonder he could speak of them as if he had seen them yesterday. With like vividness, the deep intense sky of Asia, with its brilliant and twinkling host of stars, which he had so often gazed at by night, or its lofty blue vault by day, was reflected, in the hours of stillness and darkness, on his inmost soul."—Intellectual Powers, 5th Edit., p. 130. The same Author relates the following very remarkable example of the volitional reproduction of a picture formerly impressed on the mental vision, which would be almost too wonderful for belief, if it had not been vouched for by so trustworthy an authority as the late Dr. Duncan, who had himself seen and compared the original picture and the copy reproduced memoriter:— b. "In the church of St. Peter at Cologne, the altar-piece is a large and valuable picture by Rubens, representing the martyrdom of the Apostle. This picture having heen carried away by the French in 1805, to the great regret of the inhabitants, a painter of that city undertook to make a copy of it from recollection; and succeeded in doing so in such a manner, that the most delicate tints of the Production of Spectral Illusions. 11.3 original are preserved with the most minute accuracy. The original painting has now been restored, but the copy is preserved along with it; and even when they are rigidly compared, it is scarcely possible to distinguish the one from the other."—Op. cit. p. 131. 102 Now it will not be questioned by any Psychologist, that what were perceived in these twO cases were the ideatumal representations or concepts of what were formerly presented to the Mind as objects of sensation; and it would seem scarcely to admit of question, that the same Sensorial state must be excited in the one case as in the other,—that state of the Sensorium which was originally excited by impressions conveyed to it by the nerves of the external senses, being reproduced by impressions brought down to it from the Cerebrum by the nerves of the internal senses. In fact, the real complexity lies in supposing that Mental states so closely related as the perception of a present object, and the conception of a remembered object, are produced through the instrumentality of two different " seats of conscious- ness," the Sensorium in the one case, and the Cerebrum in the other. 103. Still stronger evidence of the same associated action of the Cerebrum and Sensorium, is furnished by the study of the phenomena designated as Spectral Illusions. These are clearly Sensorial states not excited by external objects; and it is also clear that they frequently originate in Cerebral changes, since they represent creations of the Mind, and are not mere reproductions of past sensations. The following very interesting experience, which was several years ago communicated to the Writer by the distinguished subject of it (who subsequently published it in fuller detail), affords a striking confirmation, not only of the doctrine here advocated, but also of that further development of it which will be made hereafter under the title of " Unconscious Cerebration" (Chap. XIII.); and it seems to give the clue to the rationale of another large class of obscure phenomena, that may now be fairly regarded as results of Physical changes of which we 114 Nervous System and its Functions. are unconscious even when our Attention is directed to them (§ 424). Sir John Herschel stated that he was subject to the involuntary occurrence of Visual impressions, into which Geometrical regularity of form enters as the leading character. These were not of the nature of those ocular Spectra which may be attributed with pro- bability to retinal changes (§ 140); "for what is to determine the in- cidence of pressure or the arrival of vibrations from without, upon a geometrically devised pattern on the retinal surface, rather than on its general ground ?" " They are evidently not Dreams. The mind is not dormant, but active and conscious of the direction of its thoughts; while these things obtrude themselves on notice, and, by calling attention to them, direct the train of thought into a channel it would not have taken of itself." Even supposing the phenomenon to be the result of a retinal change excited through the Optic nerve, instead of ab externo, the question re- mains—"Where does the pattern itself, or its prototype in the intellect, ori- ginate ? Certainly not in any action consciously exerted by the Mind; for both the particular pattern to be formed, and the time of its appearance, are not merely beyond our will or control, but beyond our knowledge. If it be true that the conception of a regular geometrical pattern implies the exercise of thought and intelligence, it would almost seem that in such cases as those above adduced we have evidence of a thought, an intelligence, working within our own organization dis- tinct from that of our own personality, in a manner we have absolutely no part in, except as spectators of the exhibition of its results."— Familiar Lectures on Scientific Subjects, pp. 406-412. We have here not a reproduction of Sensorial impressions formerly received ; but a construction of new forms, by a process which, if it had been carried on consciously, we should have called Imagination. And it is difficult to see how it is to be accounted for in any other way, than by an unconscious action of the Cerebrum ; the products of which impress themselves on the Sensorial con- sciousness, just as, in other cases, they express themselves through the Motor apparatus (§ 425). Singleness of the Sensorium. 115 104. It may not improbably be in this manner, that a number of those so-called "spiritual" phenomena are produced, in which "subjective" Sensations of various kinds are distinctly felt by persons who are not only wide awake, but are entirely trustworthy on all other matters, though self-deceived as to the reality of the objective sources of their sensations. Having resigned the exercise of their Common Sense quoad this particular set of beliefs, and having allowed them to gain a mastery over their ordinary course of thought, there is nothing wonderful in the automatic and unconscious evolution of results corresponding to these beliefs ; which results, impressing themselves on the Sen- sorium, are felt as true sensations. And just as Sir John Herschel truly saw as geometrical forms the unconscious constructions of his own Cerebrum, so, it seems probable, may the " spiritualist" truly see the strange things he describes as actual occurrences, although they have no foundation whatever in fact (§ 147). 105. Another consideration which strongly indicates that the action of Cerebral changes on the Muscular apparatus is exerted through the instrumentality of the Sensorial apparatus, is the identity of the effects often produced by ideas, with those pro duced by sights, sounds, or other Sensations which call fortb respondent motions. Thus in a person predisposed to yawn, thf verbal suggestion of the notion of yawning is almost as pro- vocative of the act, as the sight or sound of a yawn in another. So, again, a "ticklish" person is affected in the same way by the mental state suggested by the pointing of a finger, as by the actual contact. And so in a hydrophobic patient, the same paroxysm is excited by the idea of water suggested by words or pictures, as by the actual sight or sound of it. So far, then, from being a source of additional complexity, the doctrine of the singleness of the Sensorial nerve-centre, through the instru- mentality of which we become conscious alike of Sense-im- pressions and of Cerebral changes, and from which the Motor [ 16 Nervous System and its Functions. impulses to respondent action immediately proceed, will be found (the Writer believes) to lead to a real simplification in the inter- pretation of a large class of phenomena occupying the border ground between Physical and Psychical action. 106. That the different portions of the Cerebrum should have different parts to perform in that wonderful series of operations by tthich the Brain as a whole becomes the instrument of the Mind, can scarcely be regarded as in itself improbable. But no deter- mination of this kind can have the least scientific value, that is not based on the facts of Comparative Anatomy and Embryonic Development. In ascending the Vertebrate series, we find that this organ not only increases in relative size, and becomes more complex in general structure, but undergoes progressive additions which can be defined with considerable precision. For the Cere- brum of Oviparous Vertebrata is not a miniature representative of the entire Cerebrum of Man, but corresponds only with its " anterior lobe ;" and is entirely deficient in that great transverse commissure, the corpus callosum (§ 89), the first appearance of which, in the Placental Mammals, constitutes " the greatest and most sudden modification exhibited by the brain in the whole Vertebrated series" (Huxley). It is among the smooth-brained Rodentia that we meet with the first distinct indication of a " middle lobe," marked off from the anterior by the " fissure of Sylvius ;" this lobe attains a considerably greater development in the Carnivora; but even in the femurs it still forms the hindermost portion of the Cerebrum. The "posterior lobe" makes its first appearance in Monkeys; and is distinctly present in the anthropoid Apes. The evolution of the Human Cerebrum follows the same course. For in the first phase of its development which presents itself during the second and third months, there is no indication of any but the anterior lobes ; in the second, which lasts from the latter part of the third month to the beginning of the fifth, the middle lobes make their appearance ; and it is not until the latter Localization of Cerebral Functions. 117 part of the fifth month that the third period commences, cha- racterized by the development of the posterior lobes, which sprout, as it were, from the back of the middle lobes, and remain for some time distinctly marked off from them by a furrow. The exact mutual confirmation afforded by these two sources of knowledge seems fatal to the ordinary Phrenological doctrine, which locates in the posterior part of the Cerebrum those Instincts and Propen- sities which Man shares with the lower Animals; while it would lead us to regard the posterior lobes as the instruments of those higher forms of Ideational activity by which Man is especially dis- tinguished, and the anterior and middle lobes as the instruments of those simplei Ideational states which are the most general forms of Mental activity, being most directly excited by Sensorial sug- gestions. And it seems probable that evidence to this effect may be derived from a careful comparison of the Cerebral convolutions in different animals; the researches of Leuret, Gratiolet, and others having made it clear that notwithstanding the apparent indefiniteness of their distribution in Man, a distinct plan shows itself in then? arrangement in each Family (this being simpler in the smaller members of it, and more complex in the larger), and that certain identities are traceable between the fundamental con- volutions in representatives of different Families. The lower Quadrumana, for example, present a sort of sketch of the plan on which the convolutions are arranged in the higher Apes; and whilst the study of the latter gives the key to the complex arrangement of the convolutions in the Human Cerebrum, that of the former enables the Simioid plan to be correlated with that of inferior types. (See Appendix.)—One remarkable localization of f mction to which recent Pathological enquiry has been thought to point, will be considered hereafter (§ 355) i iS Nerzous System and its Functions. Section 4. General Summary: — Functional Relations of the Ganglionic Centres of tlie Cerebro-Spinal System of Man: — SympatJietic System. 107. It was well remarked by Cuvier, that the different tribes of Animals may be said to be so many " experiments ready prepared for us by Nature; who adds to, or takes from, the aggregate of their organs, just as we might wish to do in our laboratories, Bhowing us at the same time in their actions the results of such addition or subtraction." And to no part of the organization of Animals is this view more applicable, than it is to the Nervous apparatus; for the different Ganglionic centres which are combined in the Cerebrospinal system of Man and the higher Vertebrates, have such an intimate structural relation to each other, and so much more frequently act consentaneously than separately, that, notwithstanding the abundant evidence of the diversity of their respective endowments, there is considerable difficulty in the determination of their special functions; since the destruction or removal of any one portion of the Nervous system, not only puts a stop to the phenomena to which that portion is directly sub- tservient, but so deranges the general train of nervous activity, that it often becomes impossible to ascertain, by any such method, what is its real share in the entire performance.—Under the guidance of Comparative Anatoipy, however, we are enabled to recognize the following Ganglionic centres as essentially distinct in function, however intimately connected iu structure :— i.—The Spinal Cord, consisting of a tract of ganglionic matter euclosed within strands of longitudinal fibres, and giving-off suc- cessive pairs of nerves which are connected at their roots with both of these components. This obviously corresponds with the gangliated Ventral cord of the Articulata; chiefly differing from it in the continuity of the ganglionic tract which occupies its Functional, Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 119 interior. And each segmental division of it, which serves as the centre of Reflex action for its own pair of nerves, may be con- sidered, like each ganglion of the ventral cord of the Articulata, as a repetition of the single " pedal" ganglion of those Mollusca which have but one instrument of locomotion. il—The Medulla Oblongata, or prolongation of the Spinal Cord within the skull: which consists of a set of strands that essentially correspond with the cords passing round the oesophagus in Inverte- brated animals, and connecting the cephalic ganglia with the first ganglion of the trunk; although, as the whole Cerebro-spinal axis of the Vertebrata lies above the alimentary canal (the trunk being supposed to be in a horizontal position), there is no divergence of these strands to give it passage. Interposed among them, how- ever, are certain collections of ganglionic matter, which serve as the centres for the reflex movements of Respiration and Deglutition, corresponding with the separate respiratory and stomato-gastric ganglia found in many Invertebrated animals.—This incorporation of so many distinct centres into one system, would seem destined in part to afford to all of them the protection of the Vertebral column; and in part to secure that consentaneousness of action, and that ready means of mutual influence, which are peculiarly requisite in beings in whom the activity of the Nervous system is so predominant. Thus the close connection which is established in the higher Vertebrated animals, between the Respiratory and the general Motor apparatus, is obviously subservient to the use which the former makes of the latter in the performance of its functions ; whilst, on the other hand, the control which their Cephalic centres possess over the actions of the Respiratory ganglia, enables the Will to regulate the inspiratory and expiratory move- monts La the manner required for the acts of Vocalization. 111.—The Sensory Ganglia, comprehending that assemblage of ganglionic masses lying along the base of the skull in Man, and partly included in the Medulla Oblongata, in which the nerves of 120 Nervous System and its Functions. the special Senses,—Taste, Hearing, Sight, and Smell,—have their central terminations. With these may probably be associated the two pairs of ganglionic bodies known as the Corpora Striata and Thalami Optici; into which may be traced the greater proportion of the fibres that constitute the various strands of the Medulla Oblongata, and which seem to stand in the same kind of relation to the nerves of Touch or common sensation, that the Olfactive, Optic, Auditory, and Gustative ganglia bear to their several nerve- trunks.—These Ganglia, the aggregate of which constitutes the Sensorium, are the centres of Reflex movements prompted by the impressions brought to them by the several nerves of sense. The foregoing together constitute the Automatic Apparatus which ministers to our purely animal or outer life, namely, the functions of Sensation and Locomotion ; and which also sustains the movements that are necessary for the maintenance of our Organic functions. To this apparatus is superadded :— iv.—The Cerebrum,—the instrument of our Psychical or inner life; of which organ, although it is so enormously developed in Man as apparently to supersede the Sensorial centres, scarcely a trace exists in the lowest Vertebrates; and the relative proportion borne by which to the Sensorial centres, in regard alike to size and to complexity of structure, corresponds closely with the degree of predominance which the Intelligence pos- sesses over the Animal Instincts. Much of its action, how- ever, may still be purely automatic in its nature; for so long as the current of Thought and Feeling flows-on in accordance with the direct promptings of suggestion, and without any inter- ference from Volition, it may be considered as a manifestation of the reflex activity of the Cerebrum, which takes the form of a mental instinct. This reflex activity manifests itself not only in the Psychical operations themselves, but also in Muscular move- ments : and these, when they proceed from simple Ideas, without any excitement cf feeling, may be designated as ideo-rnotor; Functional Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 121 whilst, if they spring from a Passion or Emotion, they are termed emotional. The mental Instincts, however, are by no means as invariable in the different individuals of the same species, as are the animal Instincts of that inferior part of the Nervous apparatus which is more closely connected with the maintenance of the Organic life: the particular changes which any given ■uggestion will excite in each individual, being partly determined by original constitution, and partly by acquired liabits; and the hereditary constitution being itself determined to a large extent by the acquired habits of the ancestral Race.—There seems a strong probability that there is not (as was formerly supposed) a direct continuity between even all or any of the Nerve-fibres dis- tributed to the body, and those of the Medullary substance of the Cerebrum. For whilst the nerves of special sense have their own ganglionic centres, it cannot be shown that the nerves of common Sensation have any higher destination than the thalami optici. So, the Motor fibres which pass-forth from the Brain, though commonly designated as cerebral, cannot be certainly said to have a higher origin than the corpora striata. And there is strong reason to believe that the Cerebrum has no communication with the external world, otherwise than by its con- nection with the Sensori-motor apparatus; and that even the movements which are usually designated voluntary (or more correctly volitional), are only so as regards their original source, —the stimulus which immediately calls the Muscles into contraction being still supplied from the automatic centres v.—Wherever a Cerebrum is superimposed upon the Sensory ganglia, we find another ganglionic mass, the Cerebellum, super- imposed upon the Medulla oblongata. The development of this organ bears a general, but by no means a constant, relation to that of the Cerebrum; for in the lowest Fishes it is a thin lamina of nervous matter on the median line, only partially covering-in the fissure between the two lateral halves of the upper part of the 122 Nervous System and its Ftmctions. Spinal cord (§ 64); whilst in the higher Mammalia, as in Man, it is a mass of considerable size, having two lateral lobes or hemispheres, in addition to its central portion (Fig. 11). Tlie direct communication which the Cerebellum has with both solumns of the Spinal cord, and the comparatively slight connection which it possesses with the higher portions of the Brain, justify the sup- position that it is rather concerned in the regulation and co-ordina- tion of the Muscular movements, than in any proper Psychical operations ; and though its precise function is still unknown, that general conclusion seems in harmony with our best knowledge on the subject. (See Appendix.) 108. Now although every segment of the Spinal cord and every pair of the Sensory ganglia, may be considered, in common with the Cerebrum, as an independent centre of Nervous power, yet this independence is only manifested when these organs are sepa- rated from each other; either structurally—by actual division, or functionally—by partial suspension of activity. In their state of perfect integrity and complete functional activity, they are for the most part (at least in Man) in such subordination to the Cerebrum, that they only minister to its actions ; except in so far as they are subservient to the maintenance of the Organic functions, as in the automatic acts of breathing and swallowing. The impressions which call forth these and similar movements, ordinarily excite them by the direct reflex action of the lower centres, without passing-on to the Cerebrum ; so that we only perceive them when we specially direct our attention to them, or when they exist in unusual potency. Thus we are ordinarily unconscious of that internal need for air, by which our movements of Respiration are I rompted ; and it is only when we have refrained Irom breathing for a few seconds, that we experience a sensation of uneasiness which impels us to make forcible efforts for its relief. Notwith- standing, however, that the Cerebrum is unconcerned in the Functional Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 123 ordinary performance of those automatic movements, yet it can exert a certain degree of control over many of them, so as even to Buspend them for a time ; but in no instance can it carry this sus- pension to such an extent, as seriously to disarrange the Organic functions. Thus, when we have voluntarily refrained from breath- ing for a few seconds, the inspiratory impulse so rapidly increases in strength with the continuance of the suspension, that it at last overcomes the most powerful effort we can make for the repression of the movements to which it prompts. That the Will should have a certain degree of control over such movements, is necessary in order that they may be rendered subservient to various actions which are necessary for the due exercise of Man's Psychical powers; but that they should not be left dependent upon its exercise, and should even be executed in opposition to it, when the wants of the system imperatively demand their performance, constitutes an essential provision for. the security of Life against the chance of inattention or momentary caprice, as well as for maintaining it during the unconsciousness of sleep. 109. In that action and reaction, however, between the Mind and all that is outside it, in which the Conscious Life of every Human Ego consists, the whole Cerebro-spiual system participates. For in virtue of the peculiar arrangement of the Nervous ap- paratus, every excitor impression travels in the upward direction, if it meet with no interruption, until it reaches the Cerebrum, without exciting any reflex movements in its course. When it arrives at the Sensorium, it makes an impression on the con- sciousness of the individual, and thus gives rise to a sensation; and the change there induced, being propagated onwards to the Cerebrum, becomes the occasion of further changes in its cortical substance, the downward reflexion of whose results to the Sen- Borium gives rise to the formation of an idea. If with this idea any pleasurable or painful feeling should be associated, it asgumes the character of an emotion ; and either as a simple or as an emotional 124 Nervous System and its Functions. idea, it becomes the stimulus to further Cerebral changes, which, when we become conscious of them, we call Intellectual operations. These may express themselves either directly in respondent Move- ments ; or indirectly, by supplying motives to the Will; which may exert itself either in producing or in checking Muscular movement, or in controlliug or directing the current of Thought and Feeling. 110. But if this ordinary upward course be anywhere interrupted, the impression will then exert its power in a transverse direction, and a reflex action will be the result; the nature of this being dependent upon the part of the Cerebro-spinal axis at which the ascent had been checked. Thus if the interruption be produced by division or injury of the Spinal cord, so that its lower part is cut-off from communication with the Cephalic centres, this portion then acts as an independent centre; and impressions made upon it, through the afferent nerves proceeding to it from the lower ex- tremities, excite violent reflex movements, which, being thus pro- duced without sensation, are designated as excito-motor.—So, again, if the impression should be conveyed to the Sensorium, but should be prevented by the removal of the Cerebrum, or by its state of functional inactivity, or by the direction of its activity into some other channel, from calling-forth Ideas through the instru- mentality of that organ, it may re-act upon the Motor apparatus by the reflex power of the Sensory ganglia themselves. Such actions, being dependent upon the prompting of Sensations, are sensori- motor or consensual.—But further, even the Cerebrum responds automatically to impressions fitted to excite it to reflex action, when from any cause the Will is in abeyance, so that its power cannot be exerted either over the muscular system or over the direction of the thoughts and feelings. Thus in the states of Reverie, Dreaming, Somnambulism, &c, whether spontaneous or artificially, induced (Chaps. XIV.—XVI.), ideas which take full pos- session of the mind, and from which it cannot free itself, may Fmictional Relations of Ganglionic Centres. 12 5 excite respondent ideo-motor actions ; as happens also when the force of the Idea is morbidly exaggerated, and the Will is not suspended, but merely weakened, as in many forms of Insanity (Chap. XIX). 111. The general views here put-forth in regard to the indepen- dent and connected actions of the several primary divisions of the Cerebrospinal apparatus, may perhaps be rendered more intelligible by the following Table; which is intended to represent (1) the Intellectual Operation _r THE WILL f t Emotions t t Ceeebrum centre of Emotional and Ideo-motor reflexion Sensauons Sen^ohy Ganclia , t centre of Sc nsori-motor reflexion Impression^ , Spinal Coed Motor Impulse centre of Excito-motor reflexion ordinary course of operation, when the whole is in a state of complete functional activity, and (2) the character of the Reflex actions to which each part is subservient, when it is the highest centre that the impression can reach. 112. The Cerebro-spinal system is intimately blended with an- other set of Ganglionic centres and Nerve-trunks, scattered through different parts of the body, but mutually connected with each other, which is termed the Sympathetic system.* The principal ganglionic * This System has been sometimes termed the ganglionic system, on account of the connection of its nerve-trunks with isolated and scattered centres, in striking contrast with the continuity and apparent fusion of the ganglionic 126 Nervous System and its Functions. centres of this system are the two great Semilunar Ganglia, which lie in the abdominal cavity near the spine, and from which there issues a radiating series of trunks and branches, constituting the great Solar plexus, to be distributed to the muscular walls of the Intestinal canal along its whole length, and also to the various Glandular organs in connection with it. There are two other principal though smaller systems of ganglia and nerves ; one in connection with the Heart and great bloodvessels, constituting the Cardiac plexus; and the other in connection with the organs of reproduction and other viscera contained in the cavity of the pelvis, constituting the Hypogastric plexus. These plexuses com- municate by connecting cords with a chain of Prevertebral ganglia, which lies along the front of the Spine on each side ; and this, in its turn, communicates with the Spinal ganglia, which are ganglionic enlargements on the posterior roots of the Spinal nerves (§ 62). There are also several small ganglionic centres in the Head; which have the same kind of connection with its ordinary senscry and motor nerves, that the prevertebral ganglia have with those of the trunk. In virtue of these communications, the trunks and branches of the Sympathetic system contain, in addition to their own fibres (which are distinguished from the Cerebrospinal by not possessing the double border that is given by the " white substance of Schwann," § 36), a great number of fibres derived from the Cerebro-spinal system. On the other hand, the Cerebro spinal nerves contain Sympathetic fibres, sometimes in considerable quantity. 113. The Sympathetic system is sometimes designated the centres of the Cerebro-spinal system. And an analogy has even been drawn between the chain of prevertebral ganglia of the Sympathetic, and the Ventral cord of Articulated animals. But this analogy entirely fails when we look at the distribution of the two sets of nerves, and the functions to which they respectively minister ; since it is perfectly clear from such comparison, that it is the Spinal cord of Vertebrata which really represents the Ventral cord of articulata, as a series of locomotive or Pedal ganglia, Sympathetic System. 127 nervous system of Organic Life, to distinguish it from the Cerebro- spinal system, which is the nervous system of Animal Life. Its motor action is exerted upon the Muscular walls of the Alimentary oanal, of the Heart and Arteries, of the Gland-ducts, Uterus, and other organs; as has been experimentally proved by irritating these trunks immediately after the death of an animal. But as the very same contractions may be excited by irritating the roots of those Spinal nerves from which the several Sympathetic plexuses receive fibres, there is reason to believe that the motor endowments of the Sympathetic system are chiefly dependent on its connec- tion with the Cerebro-spinaL And this «eems to be especially the case with that very important division of the Sympathetic which is distributed on the walls of the Arteries, now known as the Vaso- motor system. For the real centre of this system, which has for its function to regulate the supply of blood to different parts, by its action on the calibre of the Arteries, appears to lie in the Medulla oblongata; from which also proceed certain nerve-fibres (included in the trunks of the Pneumogastric or Par vagum), which have a special influence on the movements of the Heart, and which probably regulate their rate in accordance with that of Respiratory action.—No motor power can be exerted through the Sympathetic system by any act of Will; but the muscular actions of many of the parts just enumerated are greatly affected by Emotional states; and this is particularly the case in regard to those of the Heart and Arteries. Thus we continually see the action of the heait quickened by Emotional excitement ; whilst a violent "shock" to the feelings may seriously reduce it (as in fainting), or may even completely paralyse it. Of the action of the Emotions, through the same channel, on the Blood-vessels, we have a familiar example in the phenomenon of blushing; and this is only one of (probably) a vast number of changes thus induced, some of which have a very important influence on our Mental operations (§§ 356, 472). The blood-vessels that supply some of the Glands 128 Nervous System and its Functions. most directly affected by Mental states—such as the Lachrymal, the Salivary, and the Mammary—seem to receive their supply of vaso-motor nerves direct from the Cerebro-spinal System ; and it is by the influence of those nerves in determining the calibre of their arteries, that the quantity of the Secretion is regulated; as in the sudden flow of Tears, of Saliva, or of Milk. Those portions of the Glandular apparatus, on the other hand, the amount of whose secretions is affected, not so much by mental conditions, as by states of other parts of the Visceral apparatus, are supplied by the Sympathetic exclusively, or nearly so. 114. Whatever Sensory endowments are possessed by the parts supplied by the Sympathetic system, must be referred to the same connection with the Cerebro-spinal system. In the ordinary condition of the body, there is no evidence of the possession of any such endowments ; for the organs exclusively supplied by the Sympathetic system perform their functions without our conscious- ness, and no sign of pain is given when the Sympathetic nerve-trunks are irritated. But in diseased conditions of those organs, violent pains are often felt in them ; and experiment shows that whilst slight irritations of the healthy organs call forth no indications of suffering, such indications are manifested when the impression is made stronger. It is clear, therefore, that the effect of such impressions, when unusually strong, must be transmitted to the Sensorium; and the reason why they do not ordinarily proceed thither, is probably because the excitor impulse is usually expended in calliug forth reflex movement through the Sympathetic ganglia themselves. There is a remarkable tendency to radiation in such impulses, in virtue of the extraordinary intercommunication between different parts of the Sympathetic system ; and it is in this manner that those " morbid sympathies " between remote organs are established, which have a very important share in the phenomena of disease. 115. There is considerable evidence, moreover, that the Sympathetic System. 129 Sympathetic system has a modifying influence on the Nutrition of the body, and on the quality (as well as on the quantity) of the Secretions. And it seems probable that this is exerted through the proper fibres of the Sympathetic, rather than through those «f the Cerebro-spinal system. This influence has been especially studied in the case of the Fifth Pair (Fig. 11), which is the nerve pf common Sensation for the head and face, and which contains a great number of Sympathetic fibres that have their centre in a large ganglion on its sensory root. For it has been found that if its trunk be divided after having passed through the ganglion, a disorganizing inflammation of the Eye always follows; whilst if the roots be divided, so as to cut off all the Cerebro-spinal fibres from their centre, whilst the fibres proceeding from the Sympathetic ganglion can still go on to the eye, the derangement of its nutrition is either wanting altogether, or is greatly diminished in intensity. — There can be no doubt whatever, that though the Will can exert no modifying influence on the Nutritive operations, yet that these are very much affected by mental states; and especially by the persistence of that which may be termed expectant attention, whose remarkable action will form the subject of special consideration hereafter (Chap. XIX.). Note. Since the foregoing Chapter was in type, Dr. Ferrier has obtained a very remarkable series of Experimental results, by the application of Faradic Electricity to the Cortical substance of the Cerebrum, and to other Ganglionic centres of the Brain, in different animals. As these results—so far as they have been yet made public—do not appear to the Writer in any way inconsistent with the views set forth in the preceding pages, but, on the contrary, serve to confirm and extend them, he has thought it preferable to leave in its original shape the expression of the opinions at which he had arrived long previously, and had recorded in nearly the same words; deferring to the Appendix an account of Dr. Ferrier's experiments, with the inferences which they seem in the Writer's judgment to warrant. CHAPTER III. OF ATTENTION. 116. It has been the Writer's object in the preceding Chapter, not cnly to explain the general structure and working of the Nervous mechanism, but also to indoctrinate the Reader with that idea of its reflex activity, which we derive from experiment on the lower Animals, and from observation of the phenomena of disease or injury in Man. For the information we obtain from the study of the lower centres, in regard to tnat form of reaction which mani- fests itself directly in Musculai motion, furnishes the key to the study of that reflex activity of the higher centres, which expresses itself in states of Consciousness, — namely, in the production of Sensations, the formation of Ideas, and the excitement of Emotions; these states of activity being either the excitors of other Cerebral changes of the like kind, or discharging them- selves (so to speak) by operating downwards on the Muscular apparatus.—It seems desirable, at our very entrance upon the enquiry into the action of these higher centres (which is, in fact, the Physiology of the Mind), to take special note of the active as distinguished from the passive state of recipiency for impressions which are brought to the Sensorium, whether by the nerves of the external or by those of the internal senses (§ 89); in virtue of which we fix our Attention either on something that is going on outside us, or on something that is going on within us, instead of being affected by each impression exactly in proportion to its strength. For it is in the power which the Will possesses over the direction of this active recipiency, or Attention, that the capacity of the Ego, alike for the systematic acquirement of Knowledge, for the A ctive Receptivity for Impressions. 131 control of the Passions and Emotions, and for the regulation of the Conduct, mainly consists. In studying the working of the " Mechanism of Thought and Feeling," therefore, we must first trace the effect of Attention on each principal form of Mental activity. 117. The augmented recipiency of the Sensorium for some particu- lar kind of impression, involves—apparently as its direct consequence —a proportionate reduction, or even an entire suspension, of its reci- piency for impressions of other kinds. The Philosopher who is walking in a crowded thoroughfare, may have his attention so completely engrossed by an internal " train of thought," that he takes no heed whatever of what is going on around him, so long as this does not interfere with his onward progress ; his vision having been passively exercised merely in directing his Muscular move- ments, and none of its impressions having gone up further than the Sensorium, the activity of which has been limited for the time to its Cerebral side. The Writer was informed by Mr. John S. Mill, when his " System of Logic" was first published, that he had thought-out the greater part of it during his daily walks between Kensington and the India House ; and himself more than once met Mr. Mill in Cheapside, at its fullest afternoon tide, threading his way among the foot-pas- sengers with which its narrow pavement was crowded, with the air of a man so deeply absorbed in his own contemplations that he would not recognize a friend, and yet not jostling his fellows or coming into collision with lamp-posts. On the other hand, the Countryman who comes up to London for the first time, may have his attention so attracted by the novelties he sees at every step, as to be led with difficulty to discuss a matter of business with the friend with whom he is walking. But suppose the Philosopher's course to be checked by some unusual obstruction, — such as a procession, or a street-accident,—the activity of his Sensorium is diverted from its Cerebral (or Intel- lectual) to its Sensational side; in other words, his attention is I32 Of Attention. given to what is passing outside himself, rather than to what la passing within himself; his train of thought is completely in- terrupted; and he cannot recover it, until his attention is no longer occupied by the difficulty of making his way onward, which has temporarily diverted it On the other hand, the nature of the communication which the Countryman receives from his friend, may be of a kind so powerfully to interest him, whether pleasure- ably or painfully,—as, for example, his inheritance of a fortune, or the success of a commercial speculation ; or, on the other hand, a Berious loss of property, or the adverse decision of a law-suit,— that from the moment he receives the news, he takes no note of the novelties which previously attracted him so strongly ; but gives his whole attention to the particulars which his friend has to com- municate. 118. Now this state of active as compared with passive recipiency, —of Attention as compared with mere Insouciance—may be either volitional or automatic; that is, it may be either intentionally induced by an act of the Will, or it may be produced unintentionally by the powerful attraction which the object (whether externa! or internal) has for the Ego. Hence, when we^ our Attention on a particular object by a determinate act of our own, the strength 0/ the effort required to do so is greater, in proportion to the attrac- tiveness of some other object. Thus, the Student who is earnestly endeavouring to comprehend a passage in " Prometheus," or to solve a Mathematical problem, may have his attention grievously distracted by the sound of a neighbouring piano, which vnll make him think of the fair one who is playing it, or of the beloved object with whom he last waltzed to the same measure. Here the Will may do its very utmost to keep the attention fixed, and may yet be overmastered by an involuntary attraction too potent for it; just as if a powerful electro-magnet were to snatch from our hands a piece of iron which we do our very utmost to retain within our grasp. Or, again, when "the thoughts begin to Educatio)i of A ttent ion. 133 wander" through atigue of Brain, a powerful effort of the Will may be needed to keep them fixed on the completion of a task which tho Ego has determined to execute, until the strongest Volition can no longer resist the imperious demand of the Physical mechanism for repose. Yet even then, the attractiveness of some new object (the coming-in, for example, of an anxiously-desired book, or the unexpected arrival of a friend charged with important news) shall produce not only a complete awakening of the atten- tion, but an irresistible diversion of it into a new channel. 119. The power of the Will over the state of attention is there- fore not unlimited; and its degree varies greatly in different individuals. In the young Child, as among the lower Animals, the Attention seems purely automatic, being solely determined by the attractiveness of tlie object; and the diversion of it from one object to another simply depends upon the relative force of the two attractions. It is this automatic fixation of the attention on the Sense-impressions received from the external world, that enables the Infant to effect that marvellous combination of visual and tactile perceptions, which guides the whole subsequent inter- pretation of its phenomena (§ 167). When an attractive object is presented to it, which it grasps in its little hands, carries to its lips, and holds at different distances, earnestly gazing at it all the while, it is learning a most valuable lesson; and the judicious Mother or Nurse will not interrupt this process, but will allow the infant to go on with its examination of the object as long as it is so disposed.—During the earlier stage of Childhood, it is mainly the attractiveness which the clmnges going on in the world around have for the observing faculties, which leads to the employment of them in connection w ith Ideational activity; the child wanting to know the meaning of what it sees, breaking open its toys to find out what makes them move, and asking the " why " of everything that excites its curiosity. In this stage, it is of great importance that the child should be led to limit his enquiries to some one r 34 Of A ttention. object, until he has made himself acquainted with all that he can learn of its characters ; and here a judiciously-devised system of " object lessons" answers the double purpose of communicating information and of cultivating the habit of fixity of the attention, which, at first purely automatic, gradually comes to be under the control of the Ego. 120. So soon, however, as the work of systematic instruction com- mences, other influences come into play. It is the aim of the Teacher to fix the attention of the Pupil upon objects which may have in themselves little or no attraction for it; and in this stage, the direct operation of motives becomes very apparent. The " unconscious influence" which the Parent or Nurse has acquired by Habit (§ 290), the desire of approbation or reward, or the fear of punishment, first call forth the effort which is required to keep the Attention steadily fixed, even for a short time, upon some un- attractive object, and to resist the solicitations of a new toy or a game of play. And in this early stage, all experience shows the advantage of moderating this effort, by giving to the object to which the Attention is to be directed, such attractiveness as it may be capable of, and by not requiring the attention to be too long sustained. Thus a picture-alphabet, with jingling rhymes, will often do what a simpler and severer method of " teaching the child its letters " fails to accomplish ; and the " multiplication table " is much sooner acquired by being put into rhyme and sung in the march of an Infant-school, than when presented in the repulsive nakedness of 2 x 2 = 4. Those " strong-minded" Teachers who object to these modes of " making things pleasant," as an un- worthy and undesirable " weakness," are ignorant that in this stage of the child-mind, the Will—that is, the power of se{/-control—is weak ; and that the primary object of Education is to encourage and strengthen, not to repress, that power. Great mistakes are often made by Parents and Teachers, who, being ignorant of this fundamental fact of child-nature, treat as wilfulness what ia Education of Attention. 135 in reality just the contrary of Will-fullness; being the direct result of the want of Volitional control over the automatic activity of the Brain. To punish a child for the want of obedience which it has not tlue power to render, is to inflict an injury which may almost be said to be irreparable. For nothing tends so much to prevent the healthful development of the Moral Sense, as the inilictiou of punishment which the child feels to be unjust; and nothing retards the acquirement of the power of directing the Intellectual processes, so much as the Emotional disturbance which the feeling of injustice provokes. Hence the determination often expressed to "break the will" of an obstinate child by punish- ment, is almost certain to strengthen these reactionary influences. Many a child is put into "durance vile" for not learning "the little busy bee," who simply cannot give its small mind to the task, whilst disturbed by stern commands and threats of yet severer punishment for a disobedience it cannot help ; when a suggestion kindly and skilfully adapted to its automatic nature, by directing the turbid current of thought and feeling into a smoother channel, and guiding the activity which it does not attempt to oppose, shall bring about the desired result, to the surprise alike of the baffled teacher, the passionate pupil, and the perplexed bystanders. 121. The habit of Attention, at first purely automatic, gradually becomes, by judicious training, in great degree amenable to the Will of the Teacher; who encourages it by the suggestion of appropriate motives, whilst taking care not to overstrain the child's mind by too long dwelling upon one object. Even at a very early period, there will be found marked differences among individuals, as to their power of sustained attention : some being distracted by every passing occurrence; whilst others have not much difficulty in keeping their minds fixed upon an object, for a sufficient length of time to enable them to learn all that the exercise of their senses can teach them; while with others, aoain, the difficulty lies in the transference of their attention from one 136 Of Attention. object to another, so that, when the Teacher thinks that the Pupil's mind is being exercised on B, he is still " ruminating" upon A. And thus many children require special modifications of this disciplinary process ; the " bird-witted " being encouraged to fix their attention, whilst those in whom the opposite tendency predominates should be exercised in mobilizing it. These opposite tendencies are noticeable in after life, and give a marked direction to the Intellectual character. Many a " dull" boy is supposed to be stupid, when he is simply introspective ; his attention being given rather to the ideas which are passing through his mind, than to what is going on around him. On the other hand, many a " quick-witted " boy gets a reputation for cleverness which he does not deserve; his mind being keenly alive to all that is passing outside, so that he rapidly takes-in new impreosions, but loses their traces as quickly, one set of impressions superseding another before any have had time to fix themselves. 122. As the power of determinately fixing the Attention gains strength, only requiring adequate motives for its exercise, the influence of a system of discipline by which each individual feels himself borne along as if by a Fate, still more that of an Instructor possessing a strong Will guided by sound judgment (especially when united with qualities that attract the affection, as well as command the respect, of the pupil, § 290, in.), greatly aid him in learning to use that power. As Archbishop Manning has truly said {Contem- porary Review, Feb. 1871), " During the earlier period of our lives, the potentiality of our intellectual and moral nature is elicited and educed by the Will of others......Our ' plagiosus Orbilius' did for our brain in boyhood, what our developed Will, when we could wield the ferule, did for it in after life." With the general progress of Mental development, the direction of the Attention to ideas rather than to sen3e-impressione, which was at first difficult, becomes more and more easy ; its continuous fixation upon one subject becomes so completely habitual, that it is often Volitional and A utomatic A ttention. 137 less easy to break the continuity than to sustain it; and the time at last arrives, when the direction of that Attention is given by the individual's own Will, instead of by the will of another. 123. It will serve to help us in the study of the manner in which volitional Attention operates in the higher spheres of Thought and Emotion, if we first study its action in the reception of Sense-impressions.— When we wish to make ourselves thoroughly acquainted with a Landscape or a Picture, we intentionally direct the axes of our eyes to each part of it successively, and study that part in its details until we have formed a composite concep- tion of the whole. Whilst we do this, the determinate fixation of the Attention upon any one part weakens the impression made by all the rest; so that of what lies within the Visual range at any one moment, nothing is distinctly seen, except the limited spot at which we are fixedly looking. Again, the practised Microscopist, whilst applying one of his eyes to his instrument, and determinately giving his whole Attention to the visual picture he receives through it, can keep his other eye open, without being in the least disturbed by the picture of the objects on the table which must be formed upon its retina, but which he does not see, unless their brightness should make him perceive them.—■ So in the act of listening, we are not only distinctly conscious of sounds so faint that they would not excite our notice but for the volitional direction of the Attention; but we can single out these from the midst of others by a determined and sustained effort, which may even make us quite unconscious of the rest, so long as that effort is kept up. Thus, a person with a practised " musical ear " (as it is commonly but erroneously termed, it being not the ear, but the brain, which exerts this power), whilst listening to a piece of music played by a large orchestra, can single out any one part in the harmony, and follow it through all its mazes; or can distinguish the sound of the weakest instrument in the whole band, and follow its strain through the whole performance [3S Of Attention. And ai. experienced Conductor will not only distinguish when some instrumentalist is playing out of tune, but will at once single out the offender from the midst of a numerous band. 124. The contrast between the volitional and the automatic states of Attention is particularly well shown in the effects of painful impressions on the Nervous system. It is well known that such nnpressions as would ordinarily produce severe pain, may for a time be completely unfelt, through the exclusive direction of the Attention elsewhere ; and this direction may either depend (a) upon the determinaion of the Ego, or (6) upon the attractiveness of the object, or (c, d, e,) on the combination of both. a. Thus, before the introduction of Chloroform, patients sometimes went through severe operations without giving any sign of pain, and afterwards declared that they felt none; having concentrated their thoughts, by a powerful effort of abstraction, on some subject which held them engaged throughout. b. On the other hand, many a Martyr has suffered at the stake with a calm serenity that he declared himself to have no difficulty in maintaining; his entranced attention being so engrossed by the beatific visions which presented themselves to his enraptured gaze, that the burning of his body gave him no pain whatever. c. Some of Robert Hall's most eloquent discourses were poured forth whilst he was suffering under a bodily disorder which caused him to roll in agony on the floor when he descended from the pulpit; yet he was entirely unconscious of the irritation of his nerves by the calculus which shot forth its jagged points through the whole substance of his kidney, so long as his soul continued to be " pos- sessed " by the great subjects on which a powerful effort of his Will originally fixed it. d. The Writer has himself frequently begun a lecture, whilst suffer- ing neuralgic pain eo severe as to make him apprehend that he would find it impossible to proceed; yet no sooner has he, by a determined effort, fairly launched himself into the stream of thought, than ha has found himself continuously borne along without the least dis- traction, until the end has come, and the attention has been released; when the pain has recurred with a force that has over-mastered all Effects of Limitation of Attention. 139 resistance, making him wonder how he could have ever ceased to feel it. e. A similar experience in the case of Sir Walter Scott is thua recorded by his biographer : —" John Ballantyne (whom Scott, while suffering under a prolonged and painful illness, employed as his amanuensis) told me that though Scott often turned himself on his pillow with a groan of torment, he usually continued the sentence in the same breath. But when dialogue of peculiar animation was in progress, spirit seemed to triumph altogether over matter,—he arose from his couch, and walked up and down the room, raising and lowering his voice, and as it were acting the parts. It was in this fashion that Scott produced the far greater portion of the Bride of Lammermoor,—the whole of the Legend of Montrose,— and almost the whole of Ivanhoe." — (Lockhart's Life of Scott, chap, xliv.) See also § 352 a, for a Curious sequel to the foregoing. 125. These facts throw considerable light upon a question which will hereafter come to be considered, whether Cerebral changes by which Intellectual results are evolved may not go on witliout our consciousness (§ 417). For there are Metaphysicians who fully admit the automatic nature of the operations referred to, but at the same time assert that, as they are truly Mental, we cannot be really unconscious of them, but merely do not remember them, in conse- quence either of the occupation of our attention by another train of thought, or of the severance of the connection between our sleeping and our waking consciousness. But this assertion does not constitute proof. In the case of the Physical impressions that produce the sense of pain, we have ample evidence that they must have been made; and the only question is as to their having been felt. "Did Robert Hall, for example, really feel the pain which he declared that he did not feel %" If it be replied that he did, but that he did not remember it, it may be further inquired, "What is the evidence of his having felt it?" His consciousness and memory said that he did not; and what higher evidence is attainable 1 No doubt, if his attention had been for a 140 Of A ttention. moment withdrawn from the subject of his discourse, the pointed calculus in his kidney would have made its presence most distress- ingly perceptible ; but there is no more evidence that pain was consciously felt, though not remembered, whilst he was preaching, than that he felt it when a large dose of opium procured for him the refreshment of sound sleep. WThen Damiens, worn out by hi a protracted sufferings, slept on the rack (§ 471), enjoying a remis- sion of suffering until awoke by some new and more exquisite torture, did lie feel his pain ] It would be a mere gratuitous assumption to say that he must have felt it, because the organic condition was present that would make him feel it if he were awake; since the presence of this organic condition goes for nothing, unless there be a receptive condition on the part of the Sensorium. And there seems just as much evidence that this receptivity may be entirely suspended quoad any one set of impres- sions (whether internal or external) by the complete engrossment of the attention upon another, as that it may be suspended altogether in Sleep or Coma (see § 4S8). 126. Now, just as the Organic impressions which make themselves felt in pain, when the sensorium is receptive of them, may exist without consciousness if the sensorium be otherwise engaged, so (it appears to the Writer) may it be affirmed—and on precisely the same evidence—that the Organic changes which are concerned in the automatic production of Thought, and of which we become conscious as ideas when the Sensorium takes cognizance of them, may go on without consciousness if the sensorium be otherwise engaged. The affirmation that such automatic changes cannot take place without the consciousness of them, is, as Sir William Hamilton has pointed out (§ 418), a mere petitio principii; and may be regarded as a " survival" of those older notions of the essential independence of Mind and Body, which a truly philoso- phical Psychology can no longer accept as consistent with the fundamental facts of our composite nature. Effects of Limitatio7i of Attention. 141 127. It is to the habitual direction of the Attention to some particular kind of Sense-impressions, that we are to attribute the increase in discriminative power, which is specially remarkable in the case of such as suffer under deprivation of other Senses. This is most frequently seen in the case of the Touch, which may be brought by practice to such wonderful acuteness, that some blind persons can read from raised print not much larger than that of an ordinary folio Bible, by merely passing the point of the finger along the lines; whilst by attending to minute differences which ordinarily pass entirely unnoticed, they can not only distinguish persons among whom they are living, but can also recognize such as have not been near them for months or even years previously, by the mere contact of their hands. (Thus Laura Bridgeman unhesitatingly recognized the Writer's brother, after the lapse of a year from his previous interview with her, by the " feel" of his hand.) It is well known that an extraordinary acuteness of Touch is possessed by the weavers of the finest of those textile fabrics for which India is celebrated; and as this manufacture, like others, is handed down in the same families, it does not seem improbable that a Bpecial aptitude for it, originally acquired by the experience of the individual, may be transmitted hereditarily with progressive im- provement—The like improvement is also occasionally noticed in regard to the Smell, which may acquire an acuteness rivalling that of the lower animals; and this not only in the blind, but among races of Men whose existence depends upon such discriminative p >wer. Thus we are told by Humboldt that the Peruvian Indians in the darkest night can not merely perceive through their scent the approach of a stranger whilst yet far distant, but can say whether h6 is an Indian, European, or Negro. And it is said that the Arabs of the Sahara can recognise the smell of a fire thirty or forty miles distant.—In the same manner, the sense of Taste may be trained to the recognition of differences which would ordinarily pass unnoticed ; of which we have an example in the Wine-tastei * 4 * Of A ttention. who can tell the vineyard by which any particular choice wine waa yielded, and the year of the vintage which produced it; a not less striking case being furnished by the Tea-taster, the delicacy of whose sense is said to be seldom preserved for more than a few years.—The familiar case of the Seaman who makes out the dis- tinct " loom of the land," where a landsman can discern nothing but au indefinite haze above the horizon-line, illustrates the improve- ment in the Visual sense of individuals, which arises from tho habitual direction of the Attention to a particular class of impres- sions. But the possession of this faculty, also, seems occasionally to be an attribute of Race ; the power of descrying objects at vast distances being (it is asserted) hereditarily possessed by the Mongols of Northern Asia and the Hottentots of Southern Africa, both of which races habitually dwell on vast plains, that seem to stretch without limit in every direction. As no dweller among fchem seems able to acquire the same visual power by any amount of individual experience, and as even half-breeds do not possess the aptitude in a degree by any means equal to that which charac- terizes the men of pure race, it seems probable that, as in the cases already referred to, the power acquired by habitual Attention in the first instance has become fixedly hereditary, improving with habitual use in successive generations. 128. Whilst, however, we give full credit to the cumulative effect of Hereditary transmission, in cases in which the same habit is kept up by force of circumstances through successive generations, there is adequate evidence that an extraordinary increase in the dis- criminative power of individuals may be brought about by the con- centration of the Attention upon the Sensorial impression received through the organ of sense, rather than upon an improvement produced by practice in the organ itself. For the same exaltation often shows itself without any practice at all, in that curious foim of Somnambulism (natural or induced), in which the Attention is entirely engrossed by the particular thought or feeling which Effects of Limitation of Attention. 143 may be before the consciousness at the moment (§§ 494, 498). And it is not a little remarkable that this exaltation should show itself especially in the muscular sense, to the indications of which we ordinarily give very little heed. Thus, the Writer has re- peatedly seen Hypnotized patients write with the most perfect regularity, when an opaque screen* was interposed between their eyes and the paper; the lines being equidistant and parallel, and the words at a regular distance from each other. He has seen, too, an algebraical problem thus worked out, with a neatness which could not have been exceeded in the waking state.—But the most curious proof of the exaltation of this Muscular sense, which conveys to the mind of the Somnambule that exact appre- ciation of distance and relative position for which we ordinarily trust to our Vision (§ 192), is derived from the manner in which the writer will sometimes cany back his pen or pencil to dot an i or cross a t, or to make a correction in a letter or word. Mr. Braid had one patient (in whom the sense of Smell also was remarkably exalted, § 498), who could thus go back and correct with accuracy the writing on a whole page of note-paper; but if the paper was moved from the position it had previously occupied on the table, all the corrections were on the wrong points of the paper as regarded the then place of the writing, though on the right points as regarded its previous place. Sometimes, however, he took a fresh departure (to use a nautical phrase) from the upper left- hand corner of the paper; and all his corrections were then made in their right position, notwithstanding the displacement of the paper. " This," says Mr. Braid, " I once saw him do, even to the double-dotting a vowel in a German word at the bottom of the * This is a far more satisfactory test than bandaging the eyes. It i; impossible to see through a slate, a music book, or a piece of pasteboard; but those who have carefully experimented on th3 asserted clairvoyance of Mesmerized "subjects," know well that the best-arranged bandages maybe shifted, by the working of the muscles of ihe face, sufficiently to \ ermit the use of the eyes in certain directions. t44 Of Attention. page, a feat which greatly astonished his German master, who was present at the time." 129. The effects of Attention in either augmenting or diminish- ing the intensity of Sensations, are manifested, not only in regard to those which are excited by external Impressions, but also in respect to those which originate within the body. Every one is aware how difficult it is to remain perfectly at rest, especially when there is a particular motive for doing so, and when the attention is strongly directed to the object. This is experienced whilst a Photographic likeness is being taken, even when the position is chosen by the individual, and a support is adapted to assist him in retaining it; and it is still more strongly felt by the performers in " Tableaux Vivans," who cannot keep up the effort for more than three or four minutes.—On the other hand, when the Attention is strongly directed to an entirely different object (as, for example, in listening to an eloquent sermon or an interesting lecture), the body may remain perfectly motionless for a much longer period, the Sense-impressions which would otherwise have induced the individual to change his position, not being felt; while no sooner is the discourse ended, than a simultaneous movement of the whole audience takes place, every one then becoming conscious of some discomfort, which he seeks to relieve. This is especially the case in regard to the Respira- tory sense: for it may generally be observed that the usual reflex movements do not suffice for the perfect aeration of the blood, and that a more prolonged inspiration, prompted by an uneasy feeling, takes place at intervals; but under sr_ch circumstances as those just alluded to, this feeling is not ex- perienced until the Attention ceases to be engaged by a more powerful stimulus, and then it manifests itself by the deep inspirations which accompany, in almost every individual, the general movement of the body.—Sensations may even be called into existence, as Sir H. Holland has pointed out, by the deter- Effects of L ocalized A ttent ion. 145 minate direction of the Attention to particular parts of the body: a. " The Attention by an effort of Will concentrated on the senso- rium, creates certain vague feelings of tension and uneasiness, caused possibly by some change in the circulation of the part; though it may be an effect, however difficult to conceive, on the nervous system itself. Persistence in this effort, which ia seldom indeed possible beyond a short time without confusion, pro- duces results of much more complex nature, and scarcely to be defined by any common terms of language." " Stimulated attention will frequently give a local sense of arterial pulsation where not previously felt, and create or augment those singing and rushing noises in the ears, which probably depend on the circulation through the capillary vessels." "A similar concentration of consciousness on the region of the stomach, creates in this part a sense of weight, oppression, or other less definite uneasiness; and, when the stomach is full, appears greatly to disturb the due digestion of the food." The state and action of the bladder and the bowels are much influenced by the same cause. A peculiar sense of weight and restlessness approaching to cramp, is felt in a limb to which the attention is particularly directed. So, again, if the attention be steadily directed to almost any part of the surface of the body, some feeling of itching, creeping, or tickling will soon be experienced.—[Chapters on Mental Physiology, pp. 18—24.) Evidence will hereafter be adduced, that this direction of the Attention changes the local action of the part; so that, if habitually maintained, it may produce important modihcations in its Nutrition. In this way it often happens that a real malady supervenes upon the fancied ailments of those, in whom the want of healthful occupation for the mind leaves it free to dwell upon its own Sensations; whilst, on the other hand, the strong expec- tation of benefit from a particular mode of treatment, will often cure diseases that involve serious organic change (Chap. XIX.). Hence it seems probable that in the cases just cited, as in others to be presently noticed (§ 140), the Sensations really originate 146 Of Attention. In an impression on the nerves of the part to which they are referred. 130. The difference between volitional and automatic Attention, again, is well shown by the difference between an observant and an unobservant person ; still more by the phenomena of that state whijh is strangely misnamed " absence of mind." One man is designated as observant, whose Will prevents his attention from being so far enchained by the attractiveness of any one object, whether a Sense-perception or an internal train of Thought, as to interfere with the reception of other impressions; whilst another is Bpoken of as unobservant, who, by allowing his attention to remain engrossed by one object, whether a Sense-perception or a train of Thought, is kept from bestowing a legitimate share of it upon the other impressions wliich he receives through either his external or his internal senses. The state of Abstraction is only an intensified condition of this last form of exclusive wn-volitional attention (§ 445). 131. The effect of Attention in the limitation and intensification of our external sense-impressions, is exerted also upon those Cerebral operations of which we become conscious as states of Thought and Emotion, and which may be conveniently distinguished as internal sense-impressions. For these, like the preceding, may excite no more than a passive cognizance of them ; whilst, on the other hand, our attention may be actively directed to them. And the result of this direction is similar: for the Mental state, of whatever nature it may be, upon which the attention is fixed, becomes intensified to such a degree, as to exclude for the time the cognizance of othsr impressions ; whilst it acquires a special power of suggesting other Mental states.—This direction of the attention to states of Cerebral activity, may, like its direction to impressions received through the organs of Sense, be either automatic or volitional. When it is automatic, the Mind is engrossed for the time by some Idea or Emotion, in virtue cf the intensity with which it has been called Regulation of Mental States. 147 UP, or of the peculiar hold which it has upon our nature; and it may remain thus fixed, until this Mental state shall have given-rise to some other, or shall have expended its force in bodily action, or until the attention has been determinately detached from it by an exertion of the Will. But volitional Attention consists in the fixation of the Mental gaze, by a purposive effort, upon some single btate, or on some class of Ideas or Feelings, which the Ego desires to make the special object of his contemplation; and it is by means of this selecting power, and of the tendency of the Mental state thus intensified to call-forth other states with which it has pre-formed links of association, that the Will acquires that directing power over the current of Thought and Feeling, which characterizes the fully developed Man (§§ 25-28).—Thus it is in the degree of Attention which we bestow upon certain classes of Ideas presented to us by suggestion, that our power of determinately using our Minds in any particular mode consists; and hence we see the fundamen- tal importance of early learning to fix our attention, and to resist all influences which would tend to distract it. And this is essen- tial, not merely to the advantageous employment of our Intellec- tual powers in the acquirement of Knowledge, but also to the due regulation of our Emotional nature : for it is by fixing the Atten- tion upon those states of feeling which we desire to intensify, and, conversely, by withdrawing it from those we desire to repress (which is most easily effected by choosing some oilier object that exercises a healthful attraction for us), that we- can encourage the growth of what we recognize as worthy, and can keep in check what we know to be wrong or undesirable.—This part of the subject will be more fully treated hereafter (Chaps. VI—IX). CHAPTER IV. OF SENSATION. 132. Sensation is that primary change in the condition of the conscious Ego* which results from some change in the Non-ego or External World,—this last term including the Bodily organism itself; for it is through the instrumentality of a certain part of the Nervous apparatus, that the change in the Non-ego is enabled to affect the Ego. A physical impression made upon an afferent nerve, is propagated by it to its Ganglionic centre forming part of the Sensorium; and according to the particular centre which ia thus affected, will be the nature of the Sensation produced. Thus impressions on the Olfactive, Optic, or Auditory nerves excite sensations of Smell, Sight, or Hearing, in virtue of their trans- mission to the Olfactive, Optic, or Auditory ganglia respectively. This is proved by the fact that similar Impressions will produce entirely diverse Sensations, according as they are made on one or another of the nerves of Sense. Electric stimulation does this most effectively, producing in each Sensory nerve the change which is necessary to call forth the particular affection of the Conscious- ness to which it ministers; so that, by proper management, the Ego may be made conscious at the same time of flashes of light, of distinct sounds, of a phosphoric odour, of a peculiar taste, and of a feeling of pricking, all excited by the same stimulus, the effects of which are modified by the respective peculiarities of the instru- * Some Physiologists, it is true, have spoken of Sensation without Conscious- nrss ; but it seems very desirable, for the sake of clearness and accuracy, to limit the application of the word to the menial change ; especially since the term '' impression" serves to designate that change in the state of the Nervoua system, which is its immediate antecedent. Special Sensations.—Localization of Sensation. 149 ments through which it operates. So pressure, which produces through the nerves of common Sensation the feeling of resistance, is well known to occasion, when exerted on the Eye, the sensation of light and colours; and when made with some violence on the Ear, to produce a ringing sound. It is not so easy to excite sensa- tions of Taste and Smell by mechanical irritation; and yet, as was Bhown by Dr. Baly, a sharp light tap on the papillae of the tongue excites a Taste which is sometimes acid, sometimes saline. The sense of nausea may be easily produced, as is familiarly known, by mechanical irritation of the fauces.-—But although there are some stimuli which can produce sensory impressions on all the nerves of Sense, those to which any one is specially fitted to respond, produce little or no effect upon the rest. Thus the Ear cannot distinguish the slightest difference between a luminous and a dark object. A tuning-fork, which, when laid upon the Ear whilst vibrating, pro- duces a distinct musical tone, excites no other sensation when placed upon the Eye, than a slight jarring feeling, which is a modi- fication of common not of visual sensation. The most delicate Touch cannot distinguish a substance which is sweet to the Taste, from one which is bitter; nor can the Taste (if the communication between the mouth and the nose be cut-off) perceive anything peculiar in the most strongly odorous bodies.—It may hence be inferred that no nerve of special Sense can take-on the function of another, any more than it can minister to common Sensation (§ 38). 133. The first stage in the Mental operation excited by a Sense- impression, is the localization of the Sensation ; and this is clearli an automatic action, in regard to which it is impossible to say with certainty whether it is primary or secondary, a congenital Intuition or an acquired Instinct. The latter view is perhaps the more pro- bable ; for though the young Infant cries when it feels pain, it does not show by any sign that it refers that pain to any particular seat; and we ourselves often wake out of sleep with a feeling of 15 o Of Sensation. discomfort or distress, which we are not at first sufficiently wide-awake to refer to a local origin. Yet the fully-developed Consciousness unhesitatingly refers Sense-impressions to the origins of the nerves that convey them to the Sensorium; those of any special Sense to the particular organ of that sense, and those of common Sensation to the part in which the afferent nerve- trunks have their roots. There is, as Professor Huxley has phrased it, " an extradition of that consciousness which has its seat in the Brain, to a definite point of the body; which takes place without our volition, and may give rise to ideas which are contrary to fact." Thus after amputations, the patients are for some time affected with sensations (probably excited by irritation at the cut ends of the nerves), which they refer to the fingers or toes of the lost limbs; and flashes of light are often experienced when the Eye has been completely extirpated, as also when its structure has been destroyed by disease. The effects of the Taliacotian operation afford a curiously-illustrative example of this principle ; for until the flap of skin from which the new nose is formed, obtains vascular and nervous connections in its changed situation, the sensation produced by touching it is referred to the forehead. 134. There are cases, however, in which Sensations are referred to parts quite remote from those on which the impressions are made that give rise to them. Thus, disease of the hip-joint is often first indicated by pain in the knee ; various disorders of the liver occasion pain under the left scapula; attention is often drawn to disease of the heart by shooting pains along the arms; the sense of nausea is more commonly excited by conditions of the stomach, than by the direct contact of the nauseating substance with the tongue or fauces; the sudden introduction of ice into the stomach will cause intense pain in the supra-orbital region; and the sarno pain is frequently occasioned by the presence of acid in the stomach, and may be very quickly relieved by its neutralization with an alkali. It will be seen that in most of these cases, it is Local Diminution of Sensibility. 151 impossible to refer the sensations to any direct nervous connection with the parts on which the impressions are made ; and they can scarcely be otherwise accounted-for, than by supposing that these impressions produce Sensorial changes, which are referred to other parts in virtue of some central track of communication with them, analogous to that through which reflex movements are excited. There are circumstances, indeed, which seem to render it not im- probable, that just as the impression brought by the afferent nerves to the central organs, calls forth a reflex Motion by exciting the nerve-force of a motor nerve, it may produce a reflex Sensa- tion by a like excitation of a sensory nerve. Certain it is, that, after a long continuance of some of these reflex sensations, the organs to which they are referred often themselves become diseased, although previously quite healthy; this perversion of their normal action being not improbably due to that habitual direction of the Attention to the part, which is prompted by the habitual Sensation (§ 129). 135. It has already been pointed out (§ 41) that, for the pro- duction of Sensations, each part of the Nervous apparatus must be in a state of activity, which can only be maintained by the con- stant Circulation of blood;—this being specially needed at what may be considered the origins of the Sensory nerves in the general surface of the Skin and in the organs of special Sense, and at their terminations in the Ganglionic centres. An enfeeblement of the circulation where impressions are first received, diminishes their strength, as we see in the numbness produced by an obstruc- tion to the flow of blood through the main artery of a limb ; and a like enfeeblement of the circulation in the Ganglionic centre through the instrumentality of which we are rendered conscious of the physical impression, produces a corresponding torpor of Sensi- bility. The local action of Cold, in like manner, pro luces numb- ness, not only by retarding the blood-circulation, but also (it would appear) by directly lowering the conducting power of the Nerve 10 152 Of Sensation. itself; for if cold be applied to an afferent nerve-trunk in its course, complete insensibility is produced in all the parts from which it receives fibres. So, local anaesthesia or want of sensibihty may be produced by the action of Ether or Chloroform on the nerves of ike part—On the other hand, in that first stage of local Inflam- mation in which the capillary circulation is unduly active, and the heat of the part is augmented, there is an unusual susceptibility, or " tenderness," which renders ordinary impressions productive of pain. 136. The like diminution or exaltation of Sensibility may arise from states of the Sensorium. Thus in Sleep there is a want of receptivity for ordinary Sense-impressions; though extraordinary impressions will make themselves felt, recalling the sleeper to consciousness. In the profound Coma of apoplexy or of narco- tism, on the other hand, complete suspension of Sensorial activity is produced, in the one case by continued pressure within the skull (which probably acts by disturbing the circulation), in the other by the direct action of the poison on the nerve-sub- stance; whilst the torpor which is produced by continued exposure to severe Cold, is attributable to the congestion of the veins of the brain, which results from the contraction called-forth by the cold in the vessels of the general surface of the body. On the other hand, there are states of general exaltation of Sensibility, Avhich obviously depend upon affections of the Sensorial centres. Thus the first stage of Inflammation of the Brain is characterized by an extreme susceptibility of this kind; the most ordinary impressions of fight, sound, &c, giving rise to sensations of r unbearable violence. The presence of certain poisons, as lead, in the blood, sometimes induces the condition termed hyperasthesia, or excessive sensibility; though it more commonly induces local anaesthesia, or want of sensibility. —In all these cases it is perfectly clear to the Physiologist, that the degree in which Sensations are felt, entirely depends upon the condition of the Mechanism by General Exaltatioti of Sensibility. 153 the instrumentality of which Physical Impressions are received and are translated into states of Consciousness. 137. It is no less certain, however, that the intensity of Sensations is greatly affected by the degree in which the recipient Mind is directed towards them; and this may operate in regard either to Sensory impressions generally, or to those of some particular class. Of the former we have a characteristic example in what is known as the hysterical condition; in which the patient's Attention is so fixed upon her own bodily state, that the most trivial impressions are magnified into severe pains; while there is often such an extraordinary acuteness to sounds, that she overhears a conversation carried-on in an undertone in an adjoining room, or (as in a case known to the Writer) in a room on the second floor beneath. There is here, doubtless, a peculiar Physical susceptibility to Nervous impressions, which is to a certain degree remediable by medical treatment; but much depends upon the diversion of the patient's Attention from her own fancied ailments; and we here see the importance of the ae{/-determining power of the Will, which, if duly exercised, can substitute a healthful direc- tion of the Mental activity, for the morbid imaginings to which the patient has previously yielded herself.*—The transition is easy from the cases in which there is an exaggeration of real Sensations, to those in which there is an actual production of sensations not originating in any external impressions, by an expectation generated in the Mind itself (§ 147). 138. The vividness of Sensations usually depends rather on the degree of cliange which they produce in the system, than on * This condition is by no means peculiar to Females ; although, from the greater impressibility of the Nervous system, and the lower development of Volitional power, by which the Sex is ordinarily characterized, it is more common among them than in males. It is often fostered, from a very early date, by the habit in which injudicious Parents and Nurses indulge, of fixing the Child's attention on any little hurt or ache, instead of withdrawing it by the counter- attraction of some object of interest (See § 269.) *54 Of Sensation. the absolute amount of the impressing force; and this is the case with regard alike to special and to ordinary sensations. Thus, our sensations of Heat and Cold are entirely governed by the previous condition of the parts affected; as is shown by the well-known experiment of putting one hand into hot water, tho other into cold, and then transferring both into tepid water, which will seem cool to one hand, and warm to the other. Every one knows, too, how much more we are affected by a warm day at the commencement of summer, than by an equally hot day later in the season. The same is the case in regard to Light and Sound, Smell and Taste. A person going out of a totally dark room into one moderately bright, is for the time painfully impressed by the light, but soon becomes habituated to it; whilst another, who enters it from a room brilliantly illuminated, will consider it dark and gloomy. Those who are constantly exposed to very loud noises, become almost unconscious of them, and are even undisturbed by them in illness ; and the medical student well knows that even the effluvia of the dissecting-room are not per- ceived, when the Sensorium has been habituated to impressions they produce: although an intermission of sufficient length would, in either instance, occasion a renewal of the first unpleasant feelings, when the individual is again subjected to the impression.—Thus there seems reason to believe that Sensorial changes of frequent occurrence, produce a modification in the nutrition of the Sen- sorium itself, whichgrows-to them, as it were, just as the Nervous system generally may be considered as growing-to "nervine stimulants" habitually taken-in (§ 155); for not only would the production of such a modification be quite in accordance with the general phenomena of Nutrition,* but we can scarcely other- * We have a remarkable exemplification of this, in the tolerance which may bo gradually established in the system for various Poisons, especially for such as par- ticularly affect the Nervous substance, sucl* as Opium or Alcohol. It seems impossible to explain this tolerance on any other hypothesis, than that of th« Subjective Sensations. 155 wise explain the progressive formation of that connection between Sensorial changes and Motor actions, which gives rise to the "secondarily automatic" movements (§ 191). Hence it seems reasonable to attribute that diminution in the force of Sensations which is the ordinary consequence of their habitual recurrence, to the want of such a change in the condition of the Sensorium, as ia needful to produce an impression on the Consciousness; the effects which they at first induced being no longer experienced in the same degree, when the structure of that part has accommodated itself to them.—But the same principle does not apply to those impressions to which the attention is habitually directed; for these lose none of their power of exciting Sensations by frequent repetition; on the contrary, they are so much more readily re- cognized, that they affect the Consciousness under circumstances in which the Ego is insensible to much stronger impressions of other kinds (§ 480). 139. Subjective Sensations.—The designation " subjective" is commonly given to all those Sensations which arise out of either bodily or mental states, whose existence is not consequent upon any " objective" or external change. But, strictly speaking, it should be limited to those which arise from the workings of the Ego's own Mind; since those which are produced by Physical impressions made on the nerves within his Body, just as truly belong to the Non-ego, as do those made by impressions operating from without. Thus, for example, when incipient Inflammation of a part produces the sense of Heat in it, exactly resembling that which would bo excited by the proximity of a heated body, it can scarcely be doubted that the Physical impression on the afferent nerves of tlie part, exciting Sensorial change, is the same in both cases: such a Sensation, therefore, is no more truly "subjective" in the one case than in the other, But when a " biologized" alteration of the Nutrition of the tissue by repeated doses, so that no furthei change can be produced by the quantity originally taken. '56 Of Sensation. subject is made to believe that a body he holds in his hands is unbearably hot, and throws it down accordingly (§ 458), the Knsorial change is produced by the Mental suggestion ; the Sensation, which is only referred to the locality by the mental preconception, being the creation of the Ego himself. 140. Of those so-called "subjective" Sensations which have their origin in local changes that produce impressions on the nerves of the parts to which they are referred, we have examples in the flashes of light which are symptomatic of disease of the Retina or of the Optic nerve; and in the ringing in the ears, which, while sometimes due to a disordered condition affecting the nervous apparatus within the ears themselves, appears more frequently to arise from an affection of the Auditory nerve in its course by the pulsations of a neighbouring artery. And it is probable that the persistence of a bad taste or of an unpleasant odour, having no source outside the body, is often to be attri- buted to analogous local changes within it. — On the other hand, there is probably no kind of Sensation that may not be produced by physical conditions of the Sensorium, wThich have net been induced by impressions transmitted thither by the afferent nerves, but which arise from morbid changes, either in its own sub- stance, or in the blood which circulates through it. For subjective sensations are among the commonest indications of incipient Brain-disease; and they are especially noticeable as results of the presence of poisons in the blood, whose action is specially exerted on the Cephalic nerve-centres. 141. We have now to consider, however, that class of truly " subjective" Sensations, of which the origin is to be looked-for, neither in local impressions on the nerves of the external senses, nor in abnormal affections of the Sensorium; but in impressions transmitted to the Sensorium by the "nerves of the internal senses," which convey to it the results of changes taking place in that cortical layer of the Cerebrum which we have seen reason Production of Sensations by Ideas. 15 7 to regard as the instrument of the higher Psychical operations (§ 100). 142. Every one is familiar with the fact that Sensations formerly experienced are reproduced in Dreaming, with a vividness and reality quite equal to that with which his consciousness was originally impressed by the actual objects. And this not unfrcquently happens also in the waking state; in which we are able distinctly to trace-out the causation of this reproduction, in the suggestive action of pre-formed Ideational associations (§§ 101, 103). Of these associative actions, it cannot be reasonably doubted that the Cerebrum is the instrument; and the mechanism by which they occasion the reproduction of Sensations, has been already explained to be (according to the Writer's view) the trans- mission to the Sensorium, along the nerves of the internal senses, of an impression equivalent to that which it originally received through the nerves of the external senses (§§ 99—105).—But if Cerebral (ideational) states can reproduce Sensations, they can also produce them; and as this fact is of fundamental importance in. our interpretation of a large class of phenomena to which attention has been drawn of late years under the designations " Odylism," " Spiritualism," &c, it will be desirable to adduce the proofs of it in some detail. For nothing is more common than to hear the advocates of these doctrines appealing to " the evidence of their senses" as conclusive in regard to the actual occurrence of the phenomena which they believe themselves to have witnessed; in utter ignorance of the fact that nothing is more fallacious than that evidence, when the Mind is previously "possessed" by an idea of what the Sense-impressions are to be. Of this we have an apposite illustration in the well-known exclamation of Dr. Pearson, " Bless me, how heavy it is," when he first poised upon his finger the globule of Potassium produced by the battery of Sir H. Davy; his preconception of the coincidence between metallic lustre and high specific gravity, causing him to feel that as ponderous, '58 Of Sensation. R'hich the unerring test of the balance determined to be lighter than water. The excitement of the peculiar sensation of tickling in a "ticklish" person, by a threatening movement that suggests the idea, and of that of creeping or itching by the mention of bed-infesting insects to those who are pecu- liarly liable to their attacks, are familiar instances of the same fact. 143. In the two following cases related by Professor Bennett, the effect of the Idea was not limited to the production of the Sensations, but extended itself to the consequences which would have followed those sensations, if their supposed cause had been real:— a. "A clergyman told me, that sometime ago suspicions were entertained in his parish, of a woman who was supposed to have poisoned her newly-born infant. Tho coffin was exhumed, and the Procurator-fiscal, who attended with the medical men to examine the body, declared that he already perceived the odour of decomposition, which made him feel faint, and in consequence he withdrew. But, on opening the coffin, it was found to be empty; and it was after- wards ascertained that no child had been born, and consequently no murder committed." b. The second case is yet more remarkable. " A butcher was brought into the shop of Mr. Macfarlan, the druggist, from the market-place opposite, labouring under a terrible accident. The man, on trying to hook-up a heavy piece of meat above his head, slipped, and the sharp hook penetrated his arm, so that he himself was suspended. On being examined, he was pale, almost pulseless, and expressed himself as suffering acute agony. The arm could not be moved without causing excessive pain; and in cutting-off the sleeve, he frequently cried out; yet when the arm was exposed, it was found to be quite uninjured, the hook having only traversed the sleeve of his coat." —{The Mesmeric Mania of 1851.) No evidence could be stronger than that afforded by the almost pulseless condition of the subject of the second of these cases, as to the reality of the severe pain which he experienced; and yel Production of Sensations by Ideas. 159 this pain entirely arose from his Mental conviction that the hook had penetrated the flesh of his arm. 144. Nearly thirty years ago, the scientific world was startled by the announcement made by Baron von Reichenbach (who had previously attained considerable reputation as a chemist) of the discovery of " a new Imponderable,"—a peculiar Force existing in nature and embracing the Universe, distinct from all known forces —to which he gave the name Odyle. This force could only be recognised by the effects it produced on certain " sensitive sub- jects ;" who could see, it was averred, flames streaming from the poles of magnets, could smell odours issuing from them, and could feel sensations of warmth or coolness when magnets were drawn over any part of the surface of the body; some of them being also similarly affected by crystals; and one, in particular, by almost any substance whatever, so that she saw (in the dark) flames issuing from nails or hooks in a wall, or streaming from the finger-ends of human beings. Experienced Physicians, however, at once recog- nized in Baron Reichenbach's descriptions, the influence of the ideas with which these " sensitives " had become " possessed ;" the phenomena being only, under another form, the manifestations of a tendency with which they were previously familiar in Hyste- rical and Hypochondriacal patients. Hence there was to them nothing in the least surprising in the fact, that such persons, placed in a perfectly dark room for two hours, could be brought to see a multitude of luminous phenomena, could hear varied sounds, could smell odours, and could touch intangible things, quite inde- pendently of any " Odyle" whatever, by the mere suggestion of what they were to experience. And although Reichenbach him- self considered that he had taken adequate precautions to exclude the conveyance of any suggestion of which his "sensitives" should be conscious, yet those who were familiar with the extraordinary re- ceptivity for Sense-impressions which is a special characteristic of Hysterical subjects (§ 137), could readily discern the modes in 160 Of Sensation. which such suggestions would reach the " sensitives," without any intention on the part of the operator. 145. The very fact that no manifestation of this supposed Force could be obtained, except through the conscious Human being,* was quite sufficient to convince every philosophic investigator, that he had to do, not with a new Physical Force, but with a peculiar phase of Psychical action, by no means unfamiliar to such as had previously studied the influence of the Mind upon the Body. From this point of view, Reichenbach's researches were accepted as an important contribution to Mental Physiology; and this estimate of their character was entirely confirmed by the inquiries of Mr. Braid, of Manchester, who was early led to the adoption of it by the experience he had already gained in a parallel line of investiga- tion, the results of which had thrown great light on the pheno- mena of Mesmerism (Chaps. XIV, XV). For he found that whatever Sensations were producible by the agency of magnets, crystals, &c, the very same sensations occurred when the " subjects" believed that such agency was being employed, although nothing whatever was really being done; and further, that the character of the Sensations experienced by the " subjects " depended very much on the Ideas they had been led to form of them, either by their own mental action, or by the suggestion of others. The following are a few examples of the results obtained by Mr. Braid, of many of which the Writer was himself a witness:— " A lady, upwards of fifty-six years of age, in perfect health, and wide awake, having been taken into a dark closet, and desired to look at the poles of the powerful horse-shoe magnet of nine elements, and describe what she saw, declared, after looking a considerable * Thus although certain of the "sensitives" felt their hands powerfully attracted towards a magnet, yet, as Reichenbach himself confessed, when tho magnet was poised in a delicate balance, and the hand was placed above or beneath it, the magnet was never drawn towards the hand. The "attraction " therefore, although real to the " subject " of it, was generated by the Idea in tn« "sensitive's" own Mind (§448). Production of Sensations by Ideas. i6r time, that she saw nothing. However, after I told her to look attentively, and she would see fire come out of it, she speedily saw Bparks, and presently it seemed to her to burst forth, as she had witnessed an artificial representation of the volcano of Mount Vesuvius at some public gardens. Without her knowledge, I closed down the lid of the trunk which contained the magnet, but still the tame appearances were described as visible. By putting leading questions, and asking her to describe what she saw from another part of the closet (where there was nothing but bare walls), she went on describing various shades of most brilliant coruscations and flame, according to the leading questions I had put for the purpose of changing the fundamental ideas. On repeating the experiments, similar results were repeatedly realised by this patient. On taking this lady into the said closet after the magnet had been removed to another part of the house, she still perceived the same risible appearances of light and flame when there was nothing but the bare walls to produce them ; and, two weeks after the magnet was removed, when she went into the closet by herself, the mere association of ideas was sufficient to cause her to realize a visible representation of the same light and flames. Indeed such had been the case with her on entering the closet, ever since the few first times she saw the light and flames. In like manner, when she was made to touch the poles of the magnet when wide awake, no manifestations of attraction took place between her hand and the magnet; but the moment the idea was suggested that she would be held fast by its powerful attraction, so that she would be utterly unable to separate her hands from it, such result was realized; and, on separating it by the suggestion of a new idea, and causing her to touch the other pole in like manner, predicating that it would exert no attractive power for the fingers or hand, such negative effects were at once manifested.—I know this lady was incapable of trying to deceive myself, or others present; but she was self-deceived and spell-bound by the predominance of a pre-conceived idea, and was not less surprised at the varying powers of the instrument than others who witnessed the results."—{The Power of the Mind over the Body, 1846, p. 20.) 146. Other "subjects " taken by Mr. Braid into his dark closet, and unable to see anything in the first instance, when told, to look i 6 2 Of Sensation. Bteadily at a certain point (though there was no magnet there), and assured that they would see flame and light of various colours issuing from it, very soon declared that they saw them; and in some of them, " individuals of a highly concentrative and imagina- tive turn of mind," the same sensations could be called up in open daylight. The following was an experiment made with and without the magnet, upon the sensations of the general surface; the "sub- ject " being a young gentleman twenty-one years of age :— o. " I first operated on his right hand, by drawing a powerful horse- shoe magnet over the hand, without contact, whilst the armature was attached. He immediately observed a sensation of cold follow the course of the magnet. I reversed the passes, and he felt it less cold, but he felt no attraction between his hand and the magnet. I then removed the cross-bar, and tried the effect with both poles alternately, but still there was no change in the effect, and decidedly no proof of attraction between his hand and the magnet.—In the afternoon of the same day I desired him to look aside and hold his hat between his eyes and his hand, and observe the effects when I operated on him, whilst he could not see my proceedings. He very soon described a recurrence of the same sort of sensations as those he felt in the morning, but they speedily became more intense, and extended up the arm, producing rigidity of the member. In the course of two minutes this feeling attacked the other arm, and to some extent the whole body; and he was, moreover, seized with a fit of involuntary laughter, like that of hysteria, which continued for several minutes—in fact, until I put an end to the experiment. His first remark was, ' Now this experiment clearly proves that there must be some intimate connection between mineral Magnetism and Mesmerism; for I was most strangely affected, and could not possibly resist laughing during the extraordinary sensations with which my whole body was seized, as you drew the magnet over my hand and arm.' I replied that I drew a very different conclusion from the experiments, as / had never used the magnet at all, nor held it, nor anything else, near to him; and that the whole proved the truth of my position as to the extraordinary power of the Mind over the Body."—{Op. cit, p. 15.; Production of Sensations by Ideas. 163 Phenomena of the same kind were found to be producible without the use of a Magnet at all:— b. "Another interesting caseofa marriedlady, Iexperimented within presence of her husband, was as follows. I requested her to place her hand on the table, with the palm upwards, so situated as to enable her to observe the process I was about to resort to. I had previously remarked, that by my drawing something slowly over the hand, without contact, whilst the patient concentrated her attention on the process, she would experience some peculiar sensations in consequence. I ' took a pair of her scissors, and drew the bowl of the handle slowly from the wrist downwards. I had only done so a few times, when she felt a creeping, chilly sensation, which was immediately followed by a spasmodic twitching of the muscles, so as to toss the hand from the table, as the members of a prepared frog are agitated when gal- vanized. I next desired her to place her other hand on the table, in like manner, but in such a position, that by turning her head in the opposite direction she might not see what was being done, and to watch her sensations in that hand, and tell us the result. In about the same length of time, similar phenomena were manifested as with the other hand, although in this instance I had done nothing whatever, and was not near her hand. I now desired her to watch what happened to her hand, when I predicted that she would feel it become cold; and the result was as predicted; and vice versd, predicting that she would feel it become intensely hot, such was realized. When I desired her to think of the tip of her nose, the predicted result either of heat or cold was speedily realized in that part. "Another lady, twenty-eight years of age, being operated on in the same manner, whilst looking at my proceedings, in the course of half a minute, described the sensation as that of the blood rushing into the fingers; and when the motion of my pencil-case was from below upwards, the sensation was that of the current of blood being reversed, but less rapid in its motion. On resuming the downward direction, the original feeling recurred, still more powerfully than at first.—This lady being requested now to look aside, whilst I operated, realized similar sensations, and that whilst / was doing nothing. " The husband of this lady, twenty-eight and a half years of age, came into the room, shortly after the above experiment was finished 164 Of Sensation. She was very desirous of my trying the effect upon him, as he was in perfect health. I requested him to extend his right arm laterally, and let it rest on a chair with the palm upwards, to turn his head in the opposite direction, so that he might not see what I was doing, and to concentrate his attention on the feelings which might arise during my process. In about half-a-minute he felt an aura like a breath of air passing along the hand; in a little after, a slight pricking, and presently a feeling passed along the arm, as far as the elbow, which he described as similar to that of being slightly electrified :—all this, while I had been doing nothing, beyond watching what might be realized. I then desired him to tell me what he felt now,—speaking in such a tone of voice, as was calculated to lead him to believe I was operating in some different manner. The result was that the former sensations ceased; but when I requested him once more to tell me what he felt now, the former sensations recurred. I then whispered to his wife, but in a tone sufficiently loud to be overheard by him, observe now, and you will find his fingers begin to draw, and his hand will become clenched,—see how the little finger begins to move, and such was the case ; see the next one also going in like manner, and such effects followed; and finally, the entire hand closed firmly, with a very unpleasant drawing motion of the whole flexor-muscles of the fore-arm. I did nothing whatever to this patient until the fingers were nearly closed, when I touched the palm of his hand with the point of my finger, which caused it to close more rapidly and firmly. After it had remained so for a short time, I blew upon the hand, which dissipated the previously existing mental impression, and instantly the hand became relaxed. The high respectability and intelligence of this gentleman rendered his testimony very valuable ," and especially so, since he was not only wide awake, but had never been either mesmerised, hypnotised, or so tested before.—{Op. cit., pp. 15—17.) 147. The results thus obtained by experiment, being at the same time consistent with ordinary Medical experience, and accordant with Physiological probability, have an adequate claim to accept- ance as Scientific facts; and it is obvious that, if the principle be once admitted that real Sensations are producible by Mental state*, Spiritualistic Experiences.—Spectral Illusions, 165 this principle furnishes the key to the explanation of a large number of those " spiritualistic" experiences, in which objects are affirmed to be actually seen and felt, that only exist in the Imagination of the "subjects" of them. It has been no less happily than philosophically said by the Laureate, that " Dreams ore true while they last;" but we become conscious in our waking state of the "objective" unreality of what was for the time real to us, by its discordance with that general resultant of our waking experiences which we call " Common Sense." (Chap. XL) Occa- sionally we are puzzled to answer the question, " Did this really happen, or did I dream it 1"—our perplexity arising from the fact, that the " trace" of what passed in our dream equals in vividness that which would have been left by the actual occurrence, and that there is nothing inconsistent with our experience, in the idea that it might have happened.—Now when a number of persons who are "possessed" with the current ideas in regard to Spiritual- istic manifestations, sit for some time in a dark room in a state of " expectant attention," it is conformable to all scientific pro- bability that they should see luminous manifestations, should smell flowers, should feel the contact of spirit-hands or the crawl- ing of live lobsters, or should hear musical sounds or the voices of departed friends,—just as they are prompted to do by their own course of thought, or by the suggestions of others; the correction of these dreamy imaginings, by bringing common sense and scientific knowledge to bear upon them, being just what the votaries of the doctrine referred-to scornfully repudiate. 148. Very nearly connected with the foregoing, are the pheno- mena of Spectral Illusions ; which, hke the creations of dreaming or d 3lirium, are the products of the excitement of Sensorial activity by Cerebral change, operating through the " nerves of the internal Benses;" the essential difference being that as the Sensorium is not closed to external impressions, these mental images mingle with the sensations called forth by objective realities. A simple but 166 Of Sensation. very illustrative case of this kind, which occurred in the experience of Sir John Herschel, has already been cited (§103); and it is probable that we are to regard in the same light that Spectrum of the Sun, which Sir Isaac Newton was able to recall by going into the dark and directing his mind intensely, " as when a man looks earnestly to see a thing which is difficult to be seen," an which, after a frequent repetition of this process, came (he says to return " as often as I began to meditate on the phenomena, even though I lay in bed at midnight with my curtains drawn." For although phenomena of this class are often regarded as ocular spectra produced by retinal change, their reproduction by mental states seems to place them in the same category as the visual sensations which are distinctly reproduced by Memory, that is, by cerebral change (§102). In fact, there is such a gradational transition from the one state to another, that it seems clear that they have a common origin. Thus Dr. Aber- crombie {Inquiries concerning the Intellectual Powers, 5th Edit., p. 382) mentions the case of a gentleman who was all his life haunted by Spectral figures, and could call up any at will, by directing his attention steadily to some conception of his own mind, which might either consist of a figure or a scene that he had seen, or might be a composition of his own imagination: but although possessing the faculty of producing the illusion, he had no power of banishing it; so that when he had called-up any particular figure or scene, ho could not say how long it might continue to haunt him. In this case the Sensorial state produced by Cerebral action so closely resembled the impression produced by the actual object, that, on meeting a friend in the street, the subject of it could not satisfy himself whether he saw the real individual or the spectral figure, save by touching his body, or by hearing the sound of his footsteps,—tho correction being here supplied by other Sense-impressions. In certain instances the unreality of these phantasms, however vivid, ia recognized by the Intellect, from the consideration of the circum- Spectral Illusions. 167 stances under which they occur: as in the well-known case of Nicolai, who, when suffering from intermittent fever, saw coloured pictures of landscapes, trees, and rocks, resembling framed paint- ings, but of half the natural size; so long as he kept his eyes closed, they underwent constant changes, some figures disappearing while new ones showed themselves ; but as soon as he opened his eyes, the whole vanished. The following is another case of this kind, in which the same Sensorial condition as in dreaming or delirium was accompanied by an Intellectual recognition of its objective unreality :— " We knew a gentleman of strong mind, and a most accomplished Scholar, who was for many years subject to such phantasms, some sufficiently grotesque; and he would occasionally laugh heartily at their antics. Sometimes it appeared as if they interrupted a con- versation in which he was engaged ; and then, if with his family or intimate friends, he would turn to empty space, and say, ' I don't care a farthing for ye; ye amuse me greatly sometimes, but you are a bore just now.' His spectra, when so addressed, would to his eye resume their antics, at which he would laugh, turn to his friend, and continue his conversation. In other respects he was perfectly healthy, his mind was of more than ordinary strength, and he would speak of his phantoms, and reason upon their appearance, being perfectly conscious that the whole was illusive." 149. It is a curious confirmation of the view here advocated as to the distinctness between the parts of the Brain which are the instruments of sensorial and of ideational states respectively, and of the immediate relation of the former to the motor apparatus, that the presence of a Spectral illusion will often operate in directing movement, even though there be an intel- lectual consciousness that there is no objective cause for it, and that the movement is consequently inappropriate. A lady nearly connected with the Writer, having been frightened in childhood by a black cat, which sprang-up from beneath her pillow just as [ 68 Of Sensation. she was laying her head upon it, was accustomed for many years afterwards, whenever she was at all indisposed, to see a black cat on the ground before her ; and although intellectually aware of the spectral character of the appearance, yet she could never avoid lifting her foot as if to step over the cat, when it seemed to be Ling in her path.* 150. When, as the cases last cited, the Spectral image distinctly represents an external object, it must be regarded as not merely a Sensorial but as a Perceptional illusion. A far more frequent cause of false perceptions, however, lies in the misinterpretation of real Sense-impressions, under the influence of pre-existing Ideational states,—a subject which will be more fitly considered hereafter (§ 186). 151. Relation of Sensations to other Mental States.—It is through the medium of Sensation, that we acquire a knowledge of the Universe external to us, by the Psychical operations which its changes excite in ourselves. The Psychologist of the present day views Matter entirely through the light of his own consciousness: —his idea of matter in the abstract being that it is a " something " which has a permanent power of exciting Sensations; his idea of any property of matter being the mental Representation of some kind of sense-impression he has received from it; and his idea of any particular kind of matter being the Representation of the whole aggregate of the sense-perceptions which its presence has called up in his mind. " Thus when I press my hand against this table, I recognise its unyieldingness through the conjoint medium of my sense of Touch, my Muscular sense, and my Mental sense of Effort, to which it will be convenient to give the general designation of the Tactile sense; and I attribute to that table a hardness which resists the effort I * A very interesting collection of cases of Spectral Illusions will be found in Dr. Abercrombie's Treatise, and in Sir B. Brodie's " Psychological Inquiries ;" see also Sir John Herschel's own experiences in his "Familiar Lectures on Scientific Subjects," pp. 403-5. Cogn it ion of Properties of Matter. 169 make to press my hand into its substance, whilst I also recognise the fact that the force I have employed is not sufficient to move its mass. But I press my hand against a lump of dough; and finding that its Bubstance yields under my pressure, I call it soft. Or again, I press my hand against this desk; and I find that although I do not thereby change its form, I change its place ; and so I get the Tactile idea of Motion. Again, by the impressions received through the same Sensorial apparatus, when I lift this book in my hand, I am led to attach to it the notion of weight or ponderosity; and by lifting different solids of about the same size, I am enabled, by the different degrees of exertion I find myself obliged to make in order to sustain them, to distinguish some of them as light, and others as heavy. Through tho medium of another set of Sense-impressions (which some regard as belonging to a different category), we distinguish between bodies that/eeZ 'hot' and those that/eeZ 'cold'; and in this manner we arrive at the notion of differences of Temperature. And it is through the medium of our Tactile sense, without any aid from Vision, that we first gain the idea of solid form, or the three dimensions of Space. "Again, by the extension of our Tactile experiences, we acquire the notion of liquids, as forms of matter yielding readily to pressure, but possessing a sensible weight which may equal that of solids: and of air, whose resisting power is much slighter, and whose weight is so small that it can only be made sensible by artificial means. Thus, then, we arrive at the notions of resistance and of weight as properties common to all forms of Matter; and now that we have got rid of that idea of Light and Heat, Electricity and Magnetism, as ' im- ponderable fluids,' which used to vex our souls in our scientific childhood, and of which the popular term ' electric fluid' is a ' survival,' we accept these properties as affording the practical distinction between the ' material' and the 'immaterial.' " Turning, now, to that other great portal of Sensation, the Sight, through which we receive most of the messages sent to us from the Universe around, we recognise the same truth. Thus it is agreed alike by Physicists and Physiologists, that colour does not exist a* tuch in the object itself; which has merely the power of reflecting or transmitting a certain number of millions of undulations in a second; and these only produce that affection of our consciousness which we 170 Of Sensation. call Colour, when they fall upon the retina of the living percipient. And if there be that defect either in the retina or in the apparatus behind it, which we call ' colour-blindness' or «Daltonism,' some particular hues cannot be distinguished, or there may even be no power of distinguishing any colour whatever. If we were all Idee Dalton, we should see no difference, except in form, betweon ripe cherries hanging on a tree, and the green leaves around them : if we were all affected with the severest form of colour-blindness, the fair face of Nature would be seen by us as in the chiaroscuro of an engraving of one of Turner's landscapes, not as in the glowing hues of the wondrous picture itself."—{Address to the Meeting of the British Association, 1872.) 152. If it were possible for a Human being to come into the world with a Brain perfectly prepared to he the instrument of Psychical operations, but with all the inlets to Sense-impressions closed we have every reason to believe that the Mind would remain dormant, like a seed buried deep in the earth. The attentive study of cases in which there is congenital deficiency of one or more Sensations, makes it evident that the Mind is utterly incapable of forming any definite Ideas in regard to those proper- ties of objects, of which those particular sensations are adapted to take cognizance. Thus the man who is born blind, can form no conception of colour; nor the congenitally-deaf, of musical tones. And in those lamentable cases in which the sense of Touch is the only one through which Ideas can be called-forth, the Mental operations necessarily remain of the simplest and most limited character,—unless the utmost attention be given by a judicious instructor, to the development of the Intellectual faculties, and the cultivation of the Moral feelings, through that restricted class of ideaii which there is a possibility of exciting.* 153. The activity of the Mind, then, is just as much the result ;£ its consciousness of external impressions, by which its faculties * Of the extent to which this may be accomplished, the well-known case of Laura Bridgeman affords a most remarkable exemplification. Dependence of Mental Activity upon Sensations. 171 are called into play, as the life of the Body is dependent upon the appropriation of nutnent materials, and the constant influence of external forces. But there is this difference between the two cases,—that whilst the Body continually requires new materials and a continued action of external agencies, the Mind, when it has been cnce called into activity, and has become stored with Ideas, may remain active, and may develope new relations and combina- tions amongst these, after the complete closure of the Sensorial inlets by which new ideas can be excited ab externo. Such, in fact, is what is continually going-on in the state of Dreaming; but examples yet more remarkable are furnished in the vivid con- ceptions which may be formed of a landscape or a picture, from oral description, by those who have once enjoyed sight; or in the composition of music, even such as involves new combinations of sounds, by those who have become deaf, as in the well-known case of Beethoven. The mind thus feeds, as it were, upon the Btore of Ideas which it has laid-up during the activity of its Sensory organs : and not only are those impressions which it consciously retains, worked-up into a never-ending variety of combinations and successions of ideas, thus continuing to afford new sources of mental activity, even to the very end of life; but impressions of which the Mind, though once conscious of them, seems even to itself to have entirely lost the traces, may recur spontaneously, and influence its trains of thought, at periods long subsequent to their reception. (Chap. X.) 154. With particular Sensations are connected feelings of Pain or Pleasure, which cannot (for the most part at least) be explained upon any other principle than that of the necessary association of these feelings, by an original law of our nature, with the sensa- tions in question. As a general rule, it may be stated that tli9 violent excitement of any sensation is disagreeable, even when the same sensation in a moderate degree may be a source of extreme pleasure. This is the case alike with those impressions which are l7* Of Sensation. communicated through the organs of Sight, Hearing, Smell, and Taste, as with those that are received through the nerves of Com- mon sensation; and the association of painful feelings wuth such violent excitement, serves to stimulate the individual to remove himself from what would be injurious in its effects. Thus, the pain resulting from violent pressure on the cutaneous surface, or from the proximity of a heated body, gives warning of the danger of injury, and excites mental operations destined to remove the part from the influence of the injurious cause ; and this is shown by the fact, that loss of sensibility is frequently the indirect occa- sion of severe lesions,—the individual not receiving the customary intimation that an injurious process is taking place.* Thus, violent inflammation of the membrane lining the air-passages has resulted from the effects of ammoniacal vapours incautiously introduced into them during a fainting-fit,—the patient not receiving that notice of the irritation, which, in the active condition of his Nervous * The following case, recorded in the "Journal of a Naturalist," affords a remarkable instance of this general fact. The correctness of the statement having been called in question, it was fully confirmed by Mr. Richard Smith, the late senior Surgeon of the Bristol Infirmary, under whose care the sufferer had been :—"A travelling man, one winter's evening, laid himself down upon the platform of a lime-kiln, placing his feet, probably numbed with cold, upon the heap of stones newly put on to burn through the night. Sleep overcame him in this situation ; the fire gradually rising and increasing, until it ignited the stones upon which his feet were placed. Lulled by the warmth, the man slept on : the fire increased until it burned one foot (which probably was extended over a vent- hole) and part of the leg above the ankle entirely off, consuming that part so effectually that a cinder-like fragment was alone remaining,—and still the wretch slept o)i! and in this state was found by the kiln-man in the morning. Insensible to any pain, and ignorant of his misfortune, he attempted to rise and pursue his journey; but missing his shoe, requested to have it found ; and when he wai raised, putting his burnt limb to the ground to support his body, the extremity of his leg-bone, the tibia, crumbled into fragments, having been calcined into lime. Still he expressed no sense of pain, and probably experienced none ; frc m the gradual operation of the fire, and his own torpidity during the hours his foot was consuming. This poor drover survived his misfortunes in the hospital about a fortnight; but the fire having extended to other parts of his body, recovery wai hopeless." Association of Pain or Pleasure with Sensations. 173 Rystem, would have prevented him from inhaling the noxious agent. 155. The feelings?, of Pain or Pleasure which unaccustomed sensations excite, are often exchanged for each other when the system is habituated to them; this is especially the case in regard to impressions communicated through the organs of Smell and Ta3te. There are many articles in common use among mankind,— Buch as Tobacco, Alcoholic liquors, &c, the use of which cannot be said to produce a natural enjoyment, since they are at first un- pleasant to most persons; and yet they first become tolerable, then agreeable ; and at last the want of them is felt as a painful privation, and the stimulus must be applied in an increasing degree in order to produce the usual effect. These all belong to the class of " nervine stimulants;" and it can scarcely be questioned that the result of their continual employment is to pro- duce a modification of the nutrition of the Nervous system, which engenders a Physical want when they are withheld, comparable to that of Hunger or Thirst (§ 138). 156. On the same level with the simple feelings of Pleasure and Pain which are associated with particular Sensations, but distinct from these in the manner in which they affect us, are those general feelings of personal well-being, or of its reverse malaise, which, whilst so intimately connected with states of the Bodily system as to be producible by them alone, are also the rudimentary forms of those higher Psychical states which we term emotions. These feelings, in their lowest stage of development, are purely " subjective ;" the individual being simply conscious of them, and not referring them to any external source. There are many persons who are bo keenly susceptible of both, that they pass their whole lives in an alternation between cheerfulness and depression: the former Btate being favoured by freedom from anxiety, by the healthful activity of all the organic functions, by a bright sun and a dry bracing atmosphere; wrhilst the latter is immediately induced by 174 Of Sensation. mental disquietude, by a slight disorder of digestion or excretion, or by a dull oppressive day. And a concurrence of favourable condi- tions may even exalt this Camcesthesis (or self-feeling) into exhilara- tion or absolute joy ; whilst the combined influence of those of the opposite kind may produce gloom, which may be exaggerated almost to despair. We shall hereafter see cogent reasons for re- garding these conditions as purely Physical (§§ 535, 552). Tie con- dition of " the spirits " (as these Mental affections are commonly designated) most to be desired, however, is that of tranquil com- fort ; which is far more favourable than the alternation of ex- tremes, to healthful activity and to sustained energy, alike of Body and of Mind. And this may be cherished by cultivating the habit of Volitional self-control (§ 271), whereby any tendency to undue exhilaration is moderated, and excessive depression is resisted by a determinate effort not to yield to it. 157. Similar states of Consciousness may be excited by causes purely Psychical; and although we are then accustomed to desig- nate them as Emotions, yet their nature and their seat are pro- bably the same in the one case as the other. The simple feeling which we experience from a piece of "good" or of "bad news," is so nearly allied to the Pleasure or Pain we experience in connection with Sensations, that we may fairly regard the instrumentality by which we become conscious of it as sensorial rather than Cerebral; the state of the Sensorium being affected, in the one case, by impressions conveyed to it by the " nerves of the internal senses," just as it is in the other by those brought to it by the nerves of the external senses. It often happens, moreover, that the impression thus made upon the " emotional sensibility " is more persistent than the ideational 3tate which gave rise to it; for after some disagreeable occurrence, or the receipt of ill-tidings, we feel an abiding consciousness of discomfort or distress, although we determinately keep from our Mental view the recollection of the unpleasant idea, in order that we may not be disturbed by dwelling Simple Forms of Emotional Sensibility. 175 too painfully on it. It may often be observed, moreover, that when the passions have been stirred in states of Somnambulism, Hypno- tism, &c., a disturbed cosncesthesis is carried-on into the ordinary state, although the "subject" is altogether unconscious of the nature or causes of the emotional excitement (§ 491).—There are few other forms of emotional sensibility which are so completely subjective as the foregoing ; most of them having reference to some object which is felt to be external to Self, and therefore belonging to the next category (§ 189). But we seem justified in referring to this group, as being nearly allied to the foregoing, though scarcely capable of being grouped together with them, the sense of enjoyment in activity, and its converse the sense of tedium in inactivity (commonly known as ennui); both of which are purely subjective states, and are obviously manifested by the lower Animals,—chiefly, however, in connection with their bodily functions,—whilst in Man it is the want of mental occupation that is the chief source of Ennui.* * The Writer would here express his obligations to his friend Dr. Noble, of Manchester, for many valuable suggestions in regard to the diversified forms ol "Emotional Sensibility," and its relations to Sensational, Perceptional, and Ideational states respectively—See his "Elements of Psychological Melicino" 2nd Ed., 1855), and his subsequent treatise on "The Human Mind" (18i«V 11 CHAPTER V. OP PERCEPTION AND INSTINCT. 158. Neither the operations of the Intellectual Powers, nor the higher Emotional states, are immediately called-forth by Sensa- tions ; for in that stage of consciousness we merely recognize the fact that certain changes have occurred in our own " subjective" state, and do not refer these changes to any external or " objective" source. Of such a limitation, we occasionally meet with examples among the phenomena of Sleep, and in some of the conditions resulting from the use of Anaesthetic agents : for if we fall asleep whilst suffering from bodily pain, we may entirely lose all percep- tion of the cause of that pain, and yet remain conscious of a per- turbed state of feeling, which may affect the course of our dream ; and when a surgical operation is performed in a state of incom- plete anaesthesia, it is obvious that pain is felt without any dis- tinct consciousness of its source, and the patient may subsequently describe his state as an uneasy dream. Such, it is probable, is the condition of the infant at the commencement of its Psychical life. " If," as has been well remarked by Dr. J. D. Morell {Philosophy of Religion, p. 7), "we could by any means transport ourselves into the mind of an Infant before the Perceptive consciousness is awakened, we should find it in a state of absolute isolation from everything else in the world around it. Whatever objects may be presented to the Eye, the Ear, or the Touch, they are treated simply as subjective feelings, with- out the Mind's possessing any consciousness of them as objects at all. To it, the inward world is everything, the outward world is nothing.''''—However difficult it may be, under the influence of our Nature of Perception. 177 life-long experience, to dissociate any Sensation of which we are cognizant, from the notion of its external cause—since, the moment the feeling is experienced, and the Mind is directed to it, the object from which it arises is immediately suggested,—yet nothing is more certain than that all of which we are primarily con- Bcious in any case whatever, is a certain internal or subjective state, a change in our previous Consciousness; and that the mental recognition of the object to which that change is due, is dependent upon a higher process, to which the name of Perception is now generally accorded. We may recognize the manifestation of this process in the Child, as it advances beyond the first few months of its helplessness. "A sight or a sound," remarks Dr. Morell {Op. cit.), " which at first produced simply an involuntary start, now awakens a smile or a look of recognition. The mind is evidently struggling out of itself; it begins to throw itself into the objects around, and to live in the world of outward realities." A similar transition, more rapidly effected, may be distinguished in ourselves, during the passage from Sleep, or from the insensibility of a swoon, to the state of wakeful activity; when we are at first conscious only of our own sensations, and gradually come to the knowledge of our condition as it relates to the world around, and of the position and circumstances, new and strange as they may be, in which we find ourselves. 159. Now the apprehension, or the formation of an elementary Notion, of the outness or externality of the cause of a Sensational change, is an operation which the Mind seems necessarily to per- form, when it has attained a certain stage of development; in- stinctively or intuitively making a definite distinction between the $elf and the not-self, the subject and the object. We do not infer the existence of objective realities by any act of the Reason; in fact, the strict application of logical processes tends rather to shake than to confirm the belief in the External World; but our Minds being at first subjectively impressed by the qualities of matter, r 78 Of Perception and Instinct. we gradually learn to interpret and combine the impressions they make upon our consciousness, so as to derive from them a more or less definite notion of the object (§ 151). Some of these Notions are so simple, and so constantly excited by certain Sensations, that we can scarcely do otherwise than attribute their formation to original and fundamental properties of the Mind, called into activity by the sensations in question; thus, the notion of hard- ness seems to connect itself from the first with the sense of abso- lute resistance, the notion of direction with the consciousness of diversity of parts in the visual picture. Such perceptions are said to be instinctive or original. In other cases, however, the notions are connected with the sensations by habit alone ; the connection being the result of the association which gradually establishes itself between them, so that a certain sense-impression invariably calls up a certain notion of an object answering to it. And thus it may happen that a wrong interpretation may be put upon the sensational state, merely through some change in the con- ditions under which it has been habitually received; as in the following very simple experiment:—If the middle finger of either hand be crossed behind the fore-finger, so that its extremity is on the thumb-side of the latter, and the ends of the two fingers thus disposed be rolled over a marble, pea, or other round body, a sensation will be produced, which, if uncorrected by reason, would cause the mind to believe in the existence of two distinct bodies; this being due to the impression being made at the same time upon two spots, which, in the ordinary position of the fingers, are at a considerable distance from each other. 160. There can be no doubt that, during the period of Infancy, a very rapid and energetic process of self-education is going on; the whole mind, so far as it is yet developed, being concentrated upon its Perceptive activity: and when once a complete inter- pretation has thus been attained of any particular group of Sensations, it so immediately occurs to the consciousness whenever Acquirement of Perceptions in Man. 179 those sensations may be renewed, as to have all the directness of an original perception. Thus it is very difficult, at later periods of life, to discriminate the Perceptions which are really instinctive, from those which have been acquired during Infancy. It would be wrong to draw inferences on this point from the actiaas of the lower Animals ; for in those cases in which the young are dependent from the first on the exertion of their own powers, it is obvious that they have a larger range of Instinctive perceptions than is possessed by those which derive their early sustenance from their parents. Many of them, for example, manifest a guiding appreciation of direction and distance, which Man can only gain by long experience. Thus, a Ply-catcher just come out of its shell, has been seen to peck-at and capture an Insect, with an aim as perfect as if it had been all its life engaged in learning the art.*—Still more remarkable is the perception that guides the actions of a little Fish, the Ch&todon rostratus, which shoots-out drops of fluid from its prolonged snout, so as to strike Insects that happen to be near the surface of the water, thus causing them to fall-in, and to be brought within its reach. Now by the refraction of light, the real place of the Insect in the air will not be that at which it appears to the Fish in the water, but will be a little below its apparent place; and to this point the aim must be directed. The difference between the real and the apparent place, moreover, will not be constant; for the more perpendicularly the rays enter the water, the less will be the variation; and, on the other hand, the more oblique the direction, the greater will be the difference. 161. It has been recently maintained that the want, both of the apprehension of distance, and of the power of directing the Muscular movements so as at once to lay hold of an object, which every one who carefully observes the actions of the Human Infant must recognize, is a mere matter of development; the human infant coming into the world in a less advanced condition * See the experiments of Mr. Spalding on this subject, detailed in his paper in "Macmillan's Magazine" for February, 1873, to which reference has already been made (§ 77). 180 Of Perception and Instinct. khan the young of many other animals, which are able to run about and seek their own sustenance from the first. But the Writer has strong personal reasons for asserting that such is not the fact. Having been introduced into the Medical profession by an eminent Surgeon of Bristol (the late Mr. J. B. Estlin), who had a large Ophthalmic practice in the West of England and South Wales, he had the opportunity of seeing many cases of congenital Cataract cured by operation; the condition of these children being exactly parallel in respect of Vision, to that of Mr. Spalding's hooded chicks. Generally speaking, the operation was performed within the first twelve months ; but he distinctly remembers two cases, in one of which the subject was a remarkably sturdy little fellow of three years old, whilst the other was a lad of nine. In the latter, however, there had been more visual power before the operation, than in the former; and he therefore presents the well remembered case of Jemmy Morgan as the basis of his assertion, that the acquirement of the power of visually guiding the muscular movements is experiential in the case of the Human Infant:— Jemmy had most assuredly come to that stage of his development, which would justify the expectation that if he had his Sight he would at once use it for his guidance, supposing the power of doing so to be congenital, for his father being a farmer a few miles out of Bristol, he was accustomed to go about by himself in the farm- yard, where he made friends with every one of its inhabitants, and picked up from the labourers a very improper accomplishment,— that of swearing most horribly. He was so strong, that it was necessary for the performance of the operation that his body should be bound down upon a table, and that each of his limbs and his head should be held by a separate assistant. The Writer remembers that he had charge of his head, which he found it impossible altogether to prevent him from rolling from side to side; whilst his roars and curses seem even now ringing in the Writer's ears. The operation, performed with consummate dexterity,—the handle of the cataract-needle being left by Mr. Estlin to "play " between his fingers, as Jemmy's head Acquirement of Visual Perceptions. 181 would move in spite of the strongest efforts to restrain it,—was entirely successful. In a few days both pupils were almost clear; and it was obvious from his actions that he had distinct Visual Per- ceptions. But though he clearly recognised the direction of a candle or other bright object, he was as unable as an Infant to apprehend its distance; so that when told to lay hold of a watch, he groped at it, just like a young child lying in its cradle. It was very gradually that he came to use his Sight for the guidance of his movements: and when going about the house at which he was staying in Bristol, with which he had familiarized himself before the operation, he generally shut his eyes, as if puzzled rather than aided by them. When he came up to Mr. Estlin's house, however, he would show that he was acquiring a considerable amount of visual power; and it was his favourite amuse- ment there, to blow about with his breath a piece of white paper on the surface of a dark mahogany table, round and round which he would run, as he wafted the paper from one side to another, shouting with glee at his novel exploit. Nevertheless, when he returned home to his father's house and farm-yard, his parents (very intelligent people) remarked that he was for some time obviously puzzled by his Sight, shutting his eyes as he went about in his old way; though whenever he went to a new place, he was obviously aided by it. But it was several months before he came to trust to it for his guidance, as other children of his age would do.—Jemmy's case was very carefully observed, both by Mr. Estlin and the Writer, with full knowledge of the interest attaching to such observations; and every fact the Writer has here stated remains as distinctly impressed on his mind at the distance of more than forty years, as if it had only happened yesterday,—the image of Jemmy, in his red frock, and with his still redder legs, being more vivid than any other reminiscence of his early professional life. 162. This formation of acquired Perceptions, and their gradual assumption of the immediate character of those which belong to our original constitution (§§ 167, 168), bear a striking analogy to the process by which habitual Movements come to be linked-on to tho Sensations that prompt them, so as at last to be automatically performed, although originally directed by the Will. And it can scarcely be regarded as improbable, that, in the one case as in the 18 2 Of Perception and Instinct. other, the Nervous Mechanism grows-to particular modes of activity (§ 138); so that successions of change are uniformly excited by particular stimuli, which were not provided-for in its original construction. Such a view harmonizes well with the fact, that such associations, alike between Sensations and respon- dent movements, and between Sensations and respondent ideas, are formed much more readily during the period of Childhood and Adolescence, than they are after the full measure of development has been attained; and that they are much more durable in the former case than in the latter. Throughout the whole Consti- tution of Man, as well Physical as Mental, we witness a marked capacity of adaptation to a great variety of circumstances; and by the self-education directed by those circumstances, he gradually acquires those modes of action, which in other Animals arc originally and uniformly prompted by their Instinctive tendencies. It will be shown hereafter (§ 275) to be accordant with the general laws of Nutrition, that such habitual modes of action should express themselves in the formation of the Nervous mechanism, so as to develope in it arrangements corresponding to those which it elsewhere originally possessed; and that such arrangements, when once formed, should be kept-up through life, provided that they are not allowed to pass into disuse. Hence, although placed at a disadvantage in comparison with other Animals during the earlier periods of his life, Man is enabled ultimately to attain to a far wider range of Perceptive appreciation than that to which tJiey are limited; there being, in fact, no class of Sense-impres- sions, from which, by habitual Attention to them (§ 127), he may not draw information of a far more precise and varied nature, than they seemed at first to be capable of affording. 163. We have seen that, for the production of a Sensation, a conscious state of Mind is all that is required; whilst, on the other hand, for the exercise of the Perceptive power, a certain degree of Attention is requisite ; or, in other words, the Mind must Oe directed No Perception without Attention. 183 towards the sensation. And thus it happens that, when the Mind is either inactive, or is completely engrossed by some other subject of thought, the Sensation may neither be perceived nor remem- bered, notwithstanding that we have evidence, derived from the respondent movements of the body, that it has been felt. Thus a person in a state of imperfect Sleep may start at a loud sound, or may turn-away from a light shining on his face; being conscious of the Sensation, and acting automatically upon it, but forming no kind of appreciation of the externality of its source. And, in like manner, a person in a state of profound Abstraction (§ 443) may perform many automatic movements, which cannot (so far as we know) be excited otherwise than through the medium of Sensation ; and yet the exciting sensations are neither perceived by him at the time, nor are they afterwards remembered; so that when he is aroused from his reverie, he may be astonished to find himself in circumstances altogether different from those under which he passed into it. Sometimes, however, the Sense-impression may excite a sort of imperfect Perception, which is subsequently remembered and completed. For example, the Student who does not hear the repeated strokes of the clock, when his mind is entirely given-up to his object of pursuit, may have a sort of vague consciousness of them if his attention be less completely engrossed by his studies; and although the sounds may not suggest at the moment any distinct idea of the passage of time, yet, when he subsequently gives his attention to the Sensorial impression, he may remember to have heard the clock strike, and may even be able to retrace the number of strokes.* When the Attention • It is curious that, in so retracing a number, we are often assisted by mentally reproducing the succession of strokes ; imagining their recurrence, until we feel that we have counted-up to the impression that was left upon our Sensorium.__In the same way, if asked how many stairs there are in a staircase which we are in the habit of using, we may not be able to name the number ; yet, when actually ascending or descending, we are conscious that we have arrived at the top or the bottom, by the completion of that series of Sensorial changes which has become habitual to us. 184 Of Perceptioii and Instinct. is directed, however, to the sonorous impressions (as when we are listening for the striking of the clock), or when it is not bo closely fixed on any other object as to prevent it from being attracted by the Sense-impressions, the sounds are not only recognized as proceeding from an external source, which is a simple act of Perception, but the sensations we perceive are dis- criminated from all others of like nature; and it is by this kind of mental intensification of the perceptive change to which they give rise, that the sensations themselves are impressed with so much additional force on our consciousness, as to seem extra- ordinarily increased in acuteness. Although we are accustomed to see this chiefly in cases where some particular kind of perceptive acuteness has been acquired by habit (§ 127), yet we may learn from certain phenomena of Somnambulism (both spontaneous and artificial) that nothing more is needed, than that concen- tration of the whole mind upon the Sensorial indications, which is the natural state of the Infant (§ 498). 164. Taking as the basis of the knowledge possessed by Man of any object external to him (and therefore of the External World generally), first, a subjective Sensation called forth by the presence of that object; secondly, the recognition of the externality of the cause of that sensation ; and thirdly, the formation of a notion re- specting the quality of the object which called it forth,—we have next to inquire into the mode in which such elementary Notions or Cognitions (which are afterwards to be combined into the composite Idea of the object) are generated. How far any of them are original or intuitive, is a question which has been much dis- r cussed by Psychologists : some maintaining that all such Notions are generalizations based on experience; whilst others regard them as the products of Intuition, that is, as mental instincts, of which no other account can be given, than that such cognitions are formed—like the sensations that excite them—from " a law of our nature." Psychologists of both schools agree in considering the Sense of Direction. 185 tarnation of these elementary Notions, like the performance of movements prompted or guided by them, as an automatic action ; the difference in their views consisting in this,—that Intuition alists regard this action as primarily automatic, while Psycho logists of the Experience-school regard it as secondarily automatic. As it appears to the Writer that Physiology can throw consider- able light on this question, he will here examine in some detail the mode in which those visual perceptions are formed, whereon we mainly depend for our ordinary guidance. 165. One of the most elementary of our Visual cognitions is the Sense of Direction, whereby we recognize the relations of the points from which luminous rays issue, and thus see objects erect, though their pictures on the retina are inverted. Some Psychologists have gone so far as to assert that Infants really see all objects inverted, and only acquire the true notion of their position in reference to themselves, by the corrective experience gained by touching and handling them. But this is a pure assumption, founded on an entirely erroneous notion of the nature of Sensa- tion. For it supposes that we look at the picture formed on the retina, by the " mind's eye" placed behind it, just as we look at the picture formed by a camera with the bodily eye ; whereas the fact is unquestionable, that Sensation is a state of consciousness excited by the transmission to the Sensorium (through the optic nerve) of the impression produced by the picture on the retina; and as we know nothing whatever of the mode in which the Physical change is translated, so to speak, into the Mental, there is no reason why it should be less natural for the retinal impres- Bion to suggest to the mind the notion of the real position of an object, than to call up a representation corresponding to its inverted picture. As a matter of fact, it is found that persons who have for the first time acquired Sight by operation, at an age when they can describe their sensations, are able to recognise the direction of any luminous object, though quite incapable of appreciating ita 186 Of Perception and Instinct. distance. And it appears from the experiments of Dr. Serre,* that the luminous spectra produced when pressure is made upon the eye in a dark room, are seen in a direction which has in each case a constant and definite relation to the part of the retina that is affected by the pressure, either directly, or secondarily through its transmission to the opposite side of the globe. By an extensive Beries of observations on the relation of the positions of these primary and secondary phosplienes, both to each other and to the seat of compression, Dr. Serre has been able to deduce the im- portant conclusion, that the lines joining these spectra and the spots of the retina by the affection of which they are produced, all pass through a common " centre of direction," which is situated nearly in the middle of the crystalline lens. And from these facts it seems a legitimate conclusion, that our sense of the relative directions of external objects, which affect different points of our retina by their luminous rays, is primarily derived from a kind of extradition of the Visual sensation, corresponding to that which takes place in the case of our Tactile (§ 132). The Writer quite agrees, however, with Professor Bain, that in our ordinary use o Vision we are greatly guided as to the recognition of relative direction, by the Muscular Sense called forth in the movements we give to our eyeballs, when we transfer our gaze from one point of a visual picture to another. 166. The recognition of the singleness of the object which forms a simultaneous visual picture on both eyes, has been very gener- ally regarded by Physiologists as necessarily arising, by " a law of our nature," from a certain structural relation between what have been termed " corresponding points " on the two retinae; " double vision," or the recognition of two distinct images, taking place whenever, through a want of harmony in the action of the muscles, the axes of the two eyes do not converge in the object looked-at. But this view of the case is inconsistent with the fact, that if such * "Essai sur les PhosphSnes," Paris, 1853. Single and Double Vision. 187 abnormal conditions should become permanent (as in squinting) the vision after a time becomes " single " again, notwithstanding that the pictures are formed on parts of the retinae which do not correspond. Further, if the Muscular irregularity be rectified by surgical means, so that the axes of the two eyes can be again brought into convergence in the object looked at, double vision recurs for a time, although the images are now formed upon the original " corresponding points." It is also a fact well known to Ophthalmic Surgeons, that if an opaque spot has been formed in the centre of the cornea, or an artificial pupil has been made at the margin of the iris, so that the most distinct vision is gained when the axis of one eye is directed, not to the object, but to some other point, such direction will become habitual; yet although, when the two eyes work together, there is a decided squint, there is no " double vision." Since it is clear from these facts, that the recognition of the singleness of the object of sensation is the result of experience, in the cases in which it supersedes a temporary double vision, it may be fairly so regarded in the case of the Infant; more particularly since observation shows that the con- vergence of its eyes upon the object looked-at, is, in the first in- stance, by no means so immediate or exact as it subsequently becomes. And, further, it is obvious that if (as seems not im- probable) there is some structural arrangement which conduces to singleness of vision when the images are thrown on the originally corresponding points of the two retinae, such mechanism must have developed itself de novo, whenever single vision is the result of the habitual conjoint use of two eyes whose axes do not converge so as to meet in the object. 167. A like process of experiential acquirement of Perceptional ' cognitions having the immediateness and trustworthiness of the Sensations on which they are based, is demonstrable in regard to those notions of form which we derive from the Visual sense alone, when it has been educated by co-ordination with the Tactile. It 188 Of Perception and Instinct. may now be affirmed with certainty, that Sight originally infi rma us only of what can be represented in a Picture—that is, light and shade, and colour; and it may be affirmed, with equal certainty, that the notions of form which we obtain through the sense of Touch (when exercised in combination with muscular movements, of which the " muscular sense " renders us cognizant) are originally unrelated to those derived from Sight; so that when a blind adult first acquires vision, objects with which he (or she) possesses the greatest tactile familiarity, are not recognized by its means, until the two sets of Sense-impressions have been co-ordinated by re- peated experience. The best evidence of this kind is derived from observations made upon persons born blind, to whom sight has been communicated by an operation, at a period of life which enabled them to give an accurate description of then* sensa- tions :— a. The case long ago recorded by Cheselden still remains one of the most interesting of these. The youth (about twelve years of age), for some time after tolerably distinct vision had been obtained, saw everything flat as in a picture, simply receiving the consciousness of the impression made upon his retina; and it was some time before he acquired the power of judging, by his sight, of the real forms and distances of the objects around him. An amusing anecdote recorded of him, shows the complete want which there is in Man of any original or intuitive connection between the ideas formed through visual and through tactile sensations. He was well acquainted with a Dog and a Cat by feeling, but could not remember their respective characters when he saw them ; and one day, when thus puzzled, he took up the cat in his arms, and felt her attentively, so as to associate the two sets of cognitions, and then, setting her down, said, "So puss, I shall know you another time." The same indication, moreover, is obviously afforded by the case A Jemmy Morgan already cited (§ 161).—In a recently-recorded case in which sight was imparted by an operation to a young woman who had been blind from birth, it was interesting to contrast th« Co-ordination of Visual and Tactile Perceptions. 189 rapidity and accuracy of her Tactile perception, which was highly educated, wi th the slow, laborious process by means of which she arrived at a conception of the shape and nature of an object through the medium of her newly-acquired and imperfectly-educated Vision :— b. "I found," says the operator, "that she was never able to ascer- tain what an object really was by Sight alone, although she could cor- rectly describe its shape and colour; but that after she had once in- structed one sense, through the medium of the other, and compared the impressions conveyed by touch and sight, she was ever after able to recognise the object without touching it. In this respect her memory was very perfect: I never knew her fail in a single instance, though I put this power frequently to the test of experiment. It was curious to place before her some very familiar object that she had never compared in this way, such as a pair of scissors. She would describe their shape, colour, glistening metallic character, but would fail in ascertaining what they really were, until she put a finger on them, when in an instant she would name them, and laugh at her own stupidity, as she called it, in not having made them out before." —(See Critchett, in Medico-Chirurgical Transactions, vol. xxxviii.) 168. Still more remarkable is the acquirement of those Percep- tions of solid form or Relief, which we derive, as Sir C. Wheat- stone's admirable investigations have shown, from the Mental combination of the dissimilar perspectives that are projected by Bolid objects upon our two retinae. When we bring to our right and left eyes respectively, by means of the Stereoscope, pictures corresponding to those which would be formed on their two retinae by the actual object if placed before them at a moderate distance, the resulting perception of the solidity of the image seems as necessary and immediate as if it were the product of an original Intuition; and this perception is strong enough to assert itself, in spite of our intellectual knowledge that we are looking at two plane surfaces. Now, although it may be inferred from the actions of many of the lower Animals, that the perception of the relative l go Of Perception and Instinct. distances of near objects or parts of an object (which constitutes the basis of the conception of solidity) is in their case intuitive, it may be affirmed, as a conclusion beyond reasonable doubt, that this also is acquired by the Human infant during the earliest months of its life, by a co-ordination of its muscular and visual Bcnsations; which enables the automatic mechanism to adopt tha dissimilarity of position between corresponding points in the two pictures, as the measure of their relative distances. The self- education of this Perceptive faculty which goes on during the first few months of infantile life, is the basis of our subsequent Visual knowledge of the External World, as it seems to be for the most part also of the primary belief in its objective reality (§ 159). 1G9. In this Visual recognition of the solid form of an object by the mental combination of its two dissimilar perspectives, we have an exercise of judgment, the decision of which may be as implicitly trusted (at least under ordinary circumstances) as if it were authoritatively delivered by a congenital faculty, but which really rests on a basis of Experience. It is scarcely conceivable that the Infant consciously asks itself the question, " What do I see ?" But there can be little doubt that, in the earlier stages of its ex- perience, it is incapable (like the newly-seeing adult) of distinguish- ing between a picture and the solid object which it represents ; and that the essential condition of a judgment—the possibility of the opposite, or of something else—therefore exists for it. But with every consentaneous exercise of the visual, tactile, and muscular sensations, during the Infant's gaze at an object grasped in its hands and carried to different distances by the motion of its arms, there is a new co-ordination, which helps to supply the deficiency in the sum of all that preceded; and this process is repeated until the complement of the whole serves as the basis of the cognition, which we thenceforth rightly characterize as " self- evident." 170. It is not a little remarkable that even that Visual percep. Binocular Perception of Solidity:—Pseudoscope. 191 tion of Solidity, which is based on the Binocular combination of dissimilar perspectives, may, under certain circumstances, be antagonized by a higher experience, so as to be for a time, or even permanently, excluded. The very ingenious Pseudosccpe con- trived by Sir C. Wheatstone, effects a lateral reversal of the perspective projections of actual objects on the two retinas, corre- sponding to that which would be made by " crossing" the pictures in the Stereoscope; and thus, in viewing through it any solid object, we ought at once, if the visual perception were a necessary product (as Sir David Brewster maintained) of the geometrical relations of the two images, to see all its projections and depres- sions reversed,—the exterior of a basin, for example, being changed into a concave interior; and the projecting rim on which it rests, into a deep furrow. But this " conversion of relief" is generally resisted, for a time at least, by the preconception of the actual form which is based on habitual experience ; and it only takes place immediately, in cases in which the converted form is at least as familiar to the mind as the actual form. Thus, when we look with the Pseudoscope at the interior of a mask, or at a hollow mouId of a plaster bust, the mental representation of the image in relief is at once called-up. But when we look pseudoscopically at the face of a plaster bust, or at the outside of a mask, it is only after a lengthened gaze that such " conversion of relief" occurs; the mind being so much more familiar with the actual form, that the mental image of the interior of a mould or mask is not called-up, until the visual perception has overcome, as if by continued pressure, the resistance of the preconception ; and for this a considerable time is often required. In the case of the living human face, however, it seems that no protraction of the Pseudoscopic gaze is sufficient 0 bring about a " conversion of relief" ; the perceptive conscious- ness (probably here under the complete domination of the Intellectual) refusing to entertain the notion of an actual visage having the form of the interior of a mask. 19 2 Of Perception and Instinct. 171. The notion of Solidity or projection in three dimensions, aa distinct from a representation of an object on a plane surface, may, under certain circumstances, be derived from a single flat picture, no less strongly than from the combination of the two dissimilar perspectives of the object. It has long been known that if we gaze steadily at a picture, whose perspective projection, fights and Bhadows, and general arrangement of details, are such as accurately correspond with the reality which it represents, the impression it produces will be much more vivid when we look with one eye only, than when we use both ; and that the effect will be further heightened, when we carefully shut out the surroundings of the picture, by looking through a tube of appropriate size and shape. This fact has been commonly accounted-for in a very erroneous manner. " We see more exquisitely," says Lord Bacon, " with one eye than with both, because the vital spirits thus unite them- selves the more and become the stronger;" and other writers, though in different language, agree with Bacon in attributing the result to the concentration of the visual power, when only one eye is used. But the fact is, that when we look with both eyes at a picture within a moderate distance, we are forced to recognize it as a flat surface ; whilst, when we look with only one, our Minds are at liberty to be acted-on by the suggestions furnished by the per- spective, chiaroscuro, &c.; so that, after we have gazed for a little time, the picture may begin to start into relief, and may even come to possess the solidity of a model. The completeness of this illusion will essentially depend upon the exactness with which the picture represents the real "projection" of its object upon a flat - surface. It is very rarely that pictures painted by human hands " come out" after this fashion in a degree at all comparable to sun- pictures ; for the obvious reason that the Photograph represents not merely the exact perspective of the scene or object, but the actual chiaroscuro as it was at any one moment, with a fidelity which the Artist, who requires time for his work, cannot possibly Monocular Perception of Solidity. —Photographs. 193 equal, since the shadows on the object are so constantly changing as he proceeds, that he can scarcely by any possibility avoid a departure from strict truth in his combinations.—The nearest approach to sun-pictures in respect to the truthfulness of the chiaroscuro, is presented by pictures painted by artificial light, the ttiofcrmity of which can be maintained while the " sitting " lasts. a. The Writer possesses three Photographs, two of bassi-relievi, and one of an alto-relievo, by Lucca della Robia; which, when looked at with one eye in the manner now described, give rise to a feeling of solidity so vivid, that it is almost impossible not to credit it. b. As the shadows are strong in all these Photographs, the illusion is promoted by causing the light by which they are viewed, to fall on them in the direction corresponding to that in which it fell on the originals, when (so to speak) they sat to the photographic camera for their portraits; but this is by no means a necessary condition, the effect being produced with nearly the same vividness in diffused day- light.—If, indeed, a strong light he seen to proceed from the opposite side, so that the direction of the shadows in the Photograph is reversed with reference to it, a picture may be turned (as it were) inside-out, so as no longer to present the relievo, but its Jiollow mould, provided that the Mind will readily accept the conversion. This effect the Writer can produce most effectively with a beautiful Photograph of a large American Trilobite imbedded in its rocky matrix; for according to the direction in which the light is allowed to fall upon it, the surface of the back of the Trilobite appears to project, or is turned into a concave reverse, representing the " cast" of that surface in the surrounding rock,—the effect in either case being aided by a Mental predetermination as to which view shall be seen. c. In the beautiful Medallion-engravings (produced by mechanical moans) that were in fashion some years ago, the like illusion could be produced; the same picture being caused to represent either a jameo or an intaglio, by such a disposition as made its lights and ihadows correspond with those which would have been thrown from the source of illumination, had the rays fallen on an actual cameo or an actual intaglio. It is remarkable that the effect of this mode of viewing Photo* 194 Of Perception and Instinct. graphic pictures is not limited to bringing out the solid forms of objects; for other features are thus seen in a manner more true to the reality, and therefore more suggestive of it. This may be noticed especially with regard to the representation of still water, which is generally one of the most unsatisfactory parts of a Photo- graph ; for although, when looked at with both eyes, its surface appears opaque, like white wax, a wonderful depth and transparence are often given to it by viewing it with only one.—And the same holds good also in regard to the characters of surfaces from which light is reflected,—as bronze or ivory; the material of the object from which the Photograph was taken being recognized much more cer- tainly when the picture is looked at with one eye, than when both are used, unless in stereoscopic combinations. 172. The superiority of Monocular to Binocular vision depends in these cases upon the freedom with which the Mind is left to interpret the picture after its own fashion, when no longer forced to view it as a flat surface; and the interpretation is here so obviously based on experience, which gives to every incident of the picture a suggestive power of its own, as to destroy the force of any argument that might be erected on the immediateness and uniformity of the perception of Relief derived from the binocular combination of two dissimilar perspectives, as to the original or intuitive character of that perception. For it thus becomes clear that this combination is only one out of several modes of suggestion by which that notion is formed; whilst the phenomena of the Pseudoscope show that the notion is by no means necessarily called up by the visual impressions which ordinarily produce it. 173. But further, it is not a little curious that an actual conversion of relief may be produced by a Mental.preconception, when we look at certain solid forms with one eye only. For just as the want of power to appreciate distance monocularly, enables us to invest a pictorial representation with the attribute of solid form, so is a solid form represented to the mind as a flat picture; and to this picture we may mentally give a solid form tlie very Conversio7i of Relief. 195 opposite of that which it really possesses. Of this fact, which is of no small importance in elucidating the nature of false perceptions (§ 186), the following are illustrations :— a. It has long been known that when a seal is looked-at through a Microscope, it will appear sometimes projecting as a cameo, some- tii.ies excavated as an intaglio; this "conversion of relief" taking place alike with the engraven stone or its waxen impression. That it is due, not (as some have supposed) to an optical change effected by the Microscope, but simply to the limitation of the visual impression to a single eye, which deprives the judgment of the positive guidance whereon it ordinarily relies, is clearly proved by the fact that no such conversion can he produced under a properly constructed Binocular Microscope,—a seal, like every other object, being represented in its true projection; while it is readily effected in regard to larger objects of a suitable nature, without the interven- tion of any optical instrument. Thus, as Sir D. Brewster pointed out in his " Natural Magic," if we take the intaglio mould of a bas- relief, and look steadily on it for a time with one eye, excluding surrounding objects as much as possible from our attention, we may distinctly see the bas-relief as if projecting. "After a little practice," he says, " I have succeeded in raising a complete hollow mask of the human face, the size of life, into a projecting head." b. If instead of a plaster mould, we take a common pasteboard mask (such as is sold in every toy-shop), and paint the inside, which is usually left in the rough, so that the colours of its different parts may imitate, as closely as possible, those of the corresponding parts of its exterior, and the inside or hollow surface of the mask be then held at arm's length from the eye, with the light so arranged that no shadow falls anywhere upon it,—not only will the image of the projecting face very readily present itself, but it will be difficult for an observer who has once caught this, to see the mask as it really is, even by a determinate effort. The illusion is the more complete, if his view be limited to the mask itself, and he be brought to the proper point of sight without being aware of what he is to see; so that, of a large number of persons on whom the Writer has tried this experiment, almost all have at once pronounced that they were looking at the projecting surface of the mask, and have only been convinced to the contrary by the conjoint use of both eyes. 196 Of Perception and Instinct. The facility with which these conversions, and others of Hke nature, occur to the " mind's eye," may be readily shown to depend upon the degree of readiness with which, in virtue of our previous habits and experiences, the visual picture suggests the real form, or its converse. c. In the case of a seal, the hollow mould and its projecting cast are objects almost equally familiar; hence the representation of either may offer itself, and the one may be substituted for the other by a Blight effort of the volitional power of Conception. The conversion of the hollow mask into the projecting face is, to most persons, still more easy, because they are more accustomed to the life-like features of the plaster-model, than they are to the concave mould which has no similitude in nature; whilst, on the other hand, the Writer has not found it possible to convert the face of a bust into the likeness of a hollow mask by the simple monocular gaze, however long continued, even with the aid of the strongest effort so to conceive it.—When a seal is looked at in a Microscope, or larger objects of the same kind are seen through an inverting Telescope, the " conversion of relief" is aided by the fact that the optical inversion of the images has caused the relation of the shadows to the known source of the light to be also reversed, so that they fall as they would do if the cameo were really replaced by the intaglio, or the intaglio by the cameo. 174. Another singularly interesting demonstration of the inabi- lity of monocular vision to afford any certainly-true idea of solid form, was given by Sir C. Wheatstone in the first of his two re markable memoirs on Binocular Vision :— If we hold up at arm's length a small skeleton-cube made of wire or ebony-beading, and look at it with one eye whilst placing it in a variety of positions by turning it between the fingers, so long as the Mind perceives the cube, its various perspective projections are interpreted by it as so many different representations of one object, all of them suggesting the same primitive form. But as certain oi these perspective projections might be given by an object of very different shape, it will probably happen that in some position of tho cube one of these dissimilar figures will suggest itself to the mind; and, if this new conception be fixed by a steady gaze for a short Visual Perception an Act of Judgment. 197 time, it will take such possession of the Mind, that some effort is required to bring back the original conception, so long, that is, as the position of the cube remains unchanged. But if, whilst the Mind is thus possessed with the false idea, the cube be again made to turn between the fingers, the series of successive projections then presented not being reconcilable with the converse form, either the Mind reverts to the original conception of the cube' as the only one with which they are consistent, or (if this should not be adopted) tho skeleton-figure seems to be continually undergoing a change of shape, as if its sides were hinged together and fell into new inclinations with every new position given to the object.—{Philosophical Trans- actions, 1838.) 175. Thus our Perception of solid form, when only one eye is used, is clearly a matter of judgment, determined by the tendency of the Mind to interpret the visual picture according to its previous familiarity with the forms which that picture may represent: its choice between two or more of these being quite involuntary, when one is decidedly more familiar to the mind than another; but being to a certain extent under volitional control, when they present themselves with equal or nearly equal readiness, through the power possessed by the Will of fixing tlie attention upon either one, to the exclusion of the others.—In ordinary Binocular Vision of a moderately near object, on the other hand, there is no waver- ing; we feel that there can be no mistake. There is but one solid form that can furnish the two dissimilar perspective projections. Hence that form presents itself to our Minds, independently of any previous acquaintance with it, as the necessary resultant of the combination of those pictures ; and this is the case even with paira of pictures which differ in a degree that is itself quite inconsistent with our experience, provided that the resultant suggested by their combination is conformable to our experience. Thus, when we look at an actual Landscape, the perspective views we receive through the right and left eyes respectively, of every part of it save the foreground, are so nearly the same, as to convey no suggest- [ 98 Of Perception and Instinct. tion of their relative distances; that suggestion being here conveyed by other differences, as of size, distinctness, and the like (§ 180). But the two Photographs of such a landscape taken for the Stereoscope, represent it as seen from two points of view sufficiently remote from each other, to produce that degree of dissimilarity in the pictures to which we are accustomed in looking at a near object; and thus the idea of the relative distances of the different parts of the landscape, is suggested with all the force derived from that difference. So, the Photographs of the Moon which are taken at the extremes of her " libration in longitude," are sufficiently dissimilar to one another to "pair" in the Stereoscope, and thus to bring out not only the solid form of her globe, but even the projection of some of the principal craters, with unmistakeable effect. And further, a most striking effect is sometimes produced by the Stereoscopic combination of a pair of pictures, of which neither by itself suggests any idea of the scene it represents. But in all these cases, the result of the combination is consistent with our previous experience, or, at any rate, is not inconsistent with it. As we intellectually know that the Moon is really globular, though her face—as ordinarily seen by us—looks flat, we are quite prepared for the acceptance of the suggestion made by the Stereoscopic view of it. And when a dark patch upon the apparent face of an ice-cliff is carried back stereoscopically to a remote distance beyond, we interpret it as representing a far-off village seen through an arch in the cliff,—a view readily conceiv able by our minds, though we may have never actually seen it. 176. However different in kind, then, may be the visual data on which our ordinary Monocular and Binocular perceptions are based, the mental operation by which we build upon them is essentially the same in both cases. For the binocular view of an object, like tho monocular, does nothing else than suggest to the Mind the con- ception of a certain solid form; and that the adoption of this conception depends much more upon the antecedent condition of Estimation of Distance. 199 the mind, than it does upon the purely optical relations of the two retinal pictures, is rendered quite certain (in the Writer's opinion) by the application of the pseudoscopic test (§170). For according to the theory of intuitive cognition, based on the optical differences of the two pictures, every thing at which we look with the Pseudo- acope ought to be at once " turned inside-out." But a large pro- portion of the objects on which we try its converting powers, are proof against them; those only being readily metamorphosed, whose new forms can be readily conceived. And the percipient Mind will not admit too strange a novelty ; it obstinately clings to so much of the reality, as is recognized by its previous Tactile experience to be the necessary interpretation of the Visual impression ordinarily received from the object; and it can only accept suoh modifica- tions as are capable of being fitted-on to the results of that ex- perience. 177. Our visual recognition of solid form is aided by sugges- tions of another kind, which are furnished by that measurement of the relative distances of the different points of an object, which we make by bringing the axes of the eyes into convergence upon those points successively; the degree of such convergence being indicated to us by the "muscular sense" that originates in the state of the Muscles we put in action to produce it. Here, again, it is obvious from what has been already stated, that our interpretation of that sensation is acquired, not intuitive ; and it will be presently shown that, under certain circumstances, an increase or diminution of the angle of convergence rather suggests change of size, than change of distance (§ 182). How much of our right estimation of the relative distances of objects not far removed from the eye, depends upon the conjoint use of both eyes, is made evident by the fact that if we close one eye, we find ourselves unable to execute with certainty any actions which require the guidance of that estima- tion,—such as threading a needle, or passing a crooked stick through a suspended ring. And it has sometimes happened that 12 200 Of Perception and Instinct. persons who have lost the sight of one eye, have been first made aware of its want by their inability to execute such actions. 178. It will now be apparent how, when one eye is closed, we lose that power of certainly distinguishing a flat picture from a projecting relievo, or either from a concave mould, which we derive from the conjoint use of both organs. We can make no mistake in our binocular estimation of such objects, provided their dimen- sions and distances be such as to make their two retinal projections appreciably different, and to require a sensible difference in the convergence of the optic axes as they are successively directed to different points. We are forced to see that a picture is nothing but a plane-surface, that the outside of a mask represents the actual features of a human face, and that the hollow mould is the concave reflex of the cast which has been turned out of it, so long as these objects are within a few feet distance, and are seen by both eyes at once. And thus it becomes evident that the remarkable converting power of monocular vision, by which a single picture may be raised into stereoscopic relief, and cameos and intaglios be mistaken for each other (§§ 171-173), is—however interesting as a Psychological phenomenon—really a mark of imperfection in the visual sense when thus exercised. 179. That such is the true view of the case, appears further from this ; that we are liable to be thus deceived in regard to the very same objects, even when we look at them with both eyes, provided that they are removed to a sufficient distance to render the difference of their retinal projections inappreciable, and to prevent the relative distances of their parts from being measured through the sense of convergence. The large Architectural pictures formerly exhibited in the Diorama often gave such an impression of projection, that almost everyone who saw them would have been ready to affirm that a particular column or statue must have been painted on a different surface from the rest, like a detached part of a scene in a theatre;—until. Estimation of Distance and Size. 201 on slightly moving the head from side to side, the absence of any alteration in its apparent position made it evident that it must be on the same plane with the adjacent parts. The perplexing vividness of this deception was due. as is now well known, to the early possession by MM. Daguerre and Niepce of one form of the Photographio art; which enabled them to impart to their architectural pictures a tiuthfulness previously unattainable, and therefore gave to these pictures an extraordinary power of suggesting the solid forms of the objects they represented.—Many of the apartments in the Lourre are decorated with cornices which so vividly represent projecting forms, as to be generally mistaken for them by such as see them for the first time; and visitors to the Bourse of Paris will recollect the large allegorical paintings in its interior, which are so executed, and so disposed, as very strongly to suggest to those who only view them from a distance the perception of high relief. 180. Our estimate of the distance of remote objects is clearly a matter of judgment based on experience; being chiefly founded upon their apparent size, if their actual size be known or guessed; or, if we have no knowledge of this, and our view does not range over the intervening space, upon that modification of their distinct- ness of colour and outline, which is known to Artists as " aerial perspective." Hence this estimate is liable to be greatly affected by varying states of the atmosphere : the same mountain-peak, for example, being apparently brought much nearer than it is in reality, when an extraordinary clearness of the air enables all its features to be distinctly seen ; and carried to a much greater apparent distance, when a slight haziness of the air softens them all down. This alteration has a very curious effect upon our appreciation of the sizes of distant objects (§ 181). 181. Of the relative sizes of objects, our estimate is partly based on the sizes of the pictures formed of them on our retina, or, in other words, On the " visual angles " they subtend ; and partly on our appreciation of their distances,—the apparent size of an object seen under a given visual angle being estimated as larger or ifcaaller than the reality, according as we suppose it to be more or 202 Of Perception and Instinct. less distant than it really is. Thus the apparent height of moun« tains is so greatly affected by our estimate of their distance, that, according to the varying atmospheric conditions which modify the latter (§ 180), the same mountain may appear much higher or much lower than it really is; its height being uncfcr-estimated when the peak is made to seem very near, and over-estimated when its apparent distance is exaggerated,—just as, when we are walking across a common in a fog, a child dimly seen through it seems to have the stature of a man, and a man that of a giant. In the case of a near object, however, we are not liable to any such error; since, if we truly appreciate its distance in the mode already described (§ 177), the appreciation of its size can be derived with certainty from the dimensions of its visual picture. 182. The appreciation of size, like that of solid form, is a matter of immediate judgment: but there is strong evidence that in this, as in the preceding case, the power of forming that judgment has been acquired by experience. Much light has been thrown upon this as upon other phenomena of Binocular Vision, by the ingenious experimental researches of Sir Charles Wheatstone. A simple modification of his mirror-stereoscope enables the observer to vary the distances of the pair of pictures from his eyes, without altering the angle of their convergence; and, conversely, to alter the angle of convergence of the optic axes, without altering the distance of the pictures. Now in the first case, the perceived dimensions of the pictures change—diminishing as their distance increases, and vice versd__in accordance with the change in the actual dimensions of the retinal pictures; the effect being very much like that of the phantasmagoria. But in the second case, a most remarkable change takes place in the perceived dimensions of the pictures, although the actual dimensions of their retinal pictures remain unaltered. For when the optic axes are made to converge upon them more and more, as they would do if they were fixed upon a single picture gradually brought very near the eyes, the apparent Estimation of Size. 203 size of the pictures undergoes a most remarkable reduction ; whilst, if the arms of the stereoscope are so turned, that the optic axes, instead of being moderately convergent, are brought into parallelism, or even into slight divergence, the apparent dimensions of the pictures undergo a not less remarkable increase. (Phil. Trans., 1852). 183. It does not seem possible to account for this fact in any other way, than by supposing that the percipient Mechanism has been developed in conformity with the experience gained during tho early part of Infantile life; in which objects held in the hand aro brought nearer to, or removed further from, the eyes, the axes of which are steadily directed to them at varying angles of conver- gence. The identity of the object being recognized throughout, the two sets of changes are brought into mutally corrective action ; but when either of them takes place without the other, the Mechanism evolves a wrong result. If the angle of convergence remain unaltered, changes in the size of the retinal images produce corresponding changes jp. the apparent size of the picture; whilst if the size of the retinal image remain unaltered, changes in the angle of convergence, acting on the Mechanism in the same manner that a change of distance would do, cause (as it were) an organic expectation that the size of the retinal image will vary accordingly; and, as it does not change, it is instinctively inter- preted exactly hke the image of a mountain or other distant object, which is made to seem larger by an increase, and smaller by a diminution of its apparent distance.-—It is a curious illustration of the same principle, that if we take up such a position at a Railway-station as to see a train approaching " end on," it seems to swell-out as it approaches our stand-point; the retinal image being rapidly enlarged, without any such corresponding indication of diminished distance, as would serve to account (so to speak) to our percipient Mechanism for that enlargement. 184. Every acquired visual Perception, then, may be regarded as the resultant of our wJtole previous experience relating to the 2 04 Of Perception and Instinct. object of it; such resultant, however, not being worked out by a process of conscious reasoning, but being the reflex action of the nervous Mechanism of the Ego, which has formed itself in accordance with that experience, so as to acquire powers of reaction of a far higher kind than it originally possessed. The "self- evidence" of the truthfulness of the Perception is of the same kind, therefore, as that of the Sensation which has called it forth : the Mental affection being in each case the immediate and invariable response of the organization to the impression made upon it. But whilst that response, in the case of the deliverances of our sensa- tional consciousness, is given by our original constitution, it ia given in the case of our perceptional consciousness by our acquired constitution; in which are embodied those results of primary experience, which are common to every normally-constituted Human being. 185. The power of immediate and acute Perception is one eminently capable of being increased by habitual Attention. We are here concerned not so much with that exaltation of the discriminating consciousness of Sense-impressions, which has been already noticed (§ 127); as with the augmentation of the power of taking cognizance of the objects that excite Sensations, which depends upon a rapid exercise of that higher faculty by which those sensations are interpreted. It would be easy to adduce many examples of the improvement of this faculty by practice; so that individuals who have cultivated it in particular modes, derive from ordinary Sense-impressions an amount of information which they could scarcely have been supposed capable of conveying. The following, however, will suffice :— a. It has long been known that individuals among the Deaf-and- Dumb have acquired the power of "lip-reading"; that is, of so interpreting the visible movements of tho mouth and lips of a speaker, as to apprehend the words he utters, no less accurately than if they were heard. And it has been latterly proposed to make this a Effects of Attention. 205 matter of systematic instruction ; so that every deaf-mute should be enabled to understand what is said, without the aid of the " sign- language" or the "finger-alphabet."—It appears, however, that it is not every one who is capable of acquiring this power; and it is still questionable whether it can be even generally attained by any amount of practice. But that it should have been even exceptionally acquired, shows the extraordinary improvability of the Perceptive faculty. 6. The celebrated conjuror, Robert Houdin, relates in his Auto- biography the mode in which he prepared himself and his son for the performance of the trick which he termed "second sight;" the success of it mainly depending upon the rapidity with which the information given by Sense-impressions could be apprehended and interpreted, and the accuracy with which (for a short time at least) they could be remembered :—In the first instance, Houdin put down a single domino, and required his son to name the total number of points without counting them, which each could readily do. Two dominoes were then tried; and, after a little practice, the total number of points on both was correctly named by each at the first glance. The next day the lesson was resumed, and they succeeded in naming the points on four dominoes at a single glance; on the following day those of six ; and, at length, they found themselves able to give, without counting, the sum of the points on twelve dominoes.—This result having been attained, they applied themselves to a far more difficult task, over which they spent a month. The father and son passed rapidly before a toy-shop, or any other displaying a variety of wares ; and each cast an attentive glance upon it. A few steps further on, each drew paper and pencil from his pocket, and tried which could enumerate the greater number of the objects momentarily seen in passing. The son surpassed the father in quickness of apprehension, being often able to write down forty objects, whilst his father could scarcely reach thirty; yet, on their returning to verify his statement, he was rarely found to have made a mistake. The following remarkable proof of the efficacy of this training may be best given in Houdin's own words:— c. " One evening, at a house in the Chaussee d'An tin, and at the end 206 Of Perception and Instinct. of a performance which had been as successful as it was loudly applauded, I remembered that while passing through the next room to the one we were now in, I had begged my son to cast a glance at the library, and remember the titles cf some of the books, as well as the order they were arranged in. No one had noticed this rapid examination. " 'To end the second-sight experiment, Sir,' I said to the master of the house, • I will prove to you that my son can read through a wall. Will you lend me a book ? ' " I was naturally conducted to the library in question, which I pretended now to see for the first time; and I laid my finger on a book. " ' Emile,' I said to my son, ' what is the name of this work? ' " ' It is Buffon,' he replied, quickly. " ' And the one by its side ?' an incredulous spectator hastened to ask. " ' On the right or the left ?' my son asked. " ' On the right,' the speaker said, having a good reason for choosing this book, for the lettering was very small. "'The Travels of Anacharsis the Younger,' the boy replied. ' But,' he added, ' had you asked the name of the book on the left, Sir, I should have said Lamartine's Poetry; a little to the right of this row, I see Crebillon's works; below, two volumes of Fleury's Memoirs; ' and my son thus named a dozen books before he stopped. " The spectators had not said a word during this description, as they felt so amazed ; but when the experiment had ended, they all complimented us by loud plaudits." — {Autobiography of Robert Houdin, p. 206.) 186. False Perceptions.—It has been shown (§ 148) that the action of ideational states upon the Sensorium can modify or even produce sensations. But the action of pre-existing states of Mind i3 still more frequently shown in modifying the interpretation which we put upon our sense-impressions. For since almost every such interpretation is an act of judgment based on experience, that judgment will vary according to our Mental condition at the time it is delivered; and will be greatly affected by any domi False Perceptions. 207 nant idea or feeling, so as even to occasion a complete mis- interpretation of the objective source of the sense-impression, as often occurs in what is termed " absence of mind" (§ 445). Tha following case, mentioned by Dr. Tuke as occurring within his own knowledge, affords a good example of this fallacy:— a. " A lady was walking one day from Penryn to Falmouth, and her mind being at that time, or recently, occupied by the subject of drinking-fountains, thought she saw in the road a newly erected fountain, and even distinguished an inscription upon it, namely— " |f anjj man lljirst, Itt bhn torn onto mi stnb brink." Some time afterwards, she mentioned the fact with pleasure to the daughters of a gentleman who was supposed to have erected it. They expressed their surprise at her statement, and assured her that she must be quite mistaken. Perplexed with the contradiction between the testimony of her senses and of those who would have been aware of the fact had it been true, and feeling that she could not have been deceived ("for seeing is believing "), she repaired to the spot, and found to her astonishment that no drinking fountain was in existence—only a few scattered stones, which had formed the foundation upon which the suggestion of an expectant imagination had built the super-structure. The subject having previously occupied her attention, these sufficed to form, not only a definite erection, hut one inscribed by an appropriate motto corresponding to the leading idea."—{Influence of the Mind upon the Body, p. 44.) So it is mentioned by Sir Walter Scott, in his " Demonology and Witchcraft," that having been engaged in reading with much interest, soon after the death of Lord Byron, an account of his habits and opinions, he was the subject of the following illusion :__ b. " Passing from his sitting-room into the entrance-hall, fitted up with the skins of wild beasts, armour, &c, he saw right before him and in a standing posture, the exact representation of his departed friend, whose recollection had been so strongly brought to his imagination. He stopped, for a single moment, so as to notice the wonderful 208 Of Perception and Instinct. accuracy with which fancy had impressed upon the bodily eye th« peculiarities of dress and posture of the illustrious poet. Sensible, however, of the delusion, he felt no sentiment save that of wonder at the extraordinary accuracy of the resemblance; and stepped onwards towards the figure, which resolved itself, as he approached, into the various materials of which it was composed. These were merely a Bcreen occupied by great-coats, shawls, plaids, and such other articles as are usually found in a country entrance-hall. Sir Walter returned to the spot from which he had seen this product of what may be called imagination proper, and tried with all his might to recall it by the force of his Will, but in vain—a good illustration of the slight influence of volition over sensation, compared with that of a vivid Mental image or idea acting upon the Sensorial centres, and distorting or moulding into other forms the impressions received from objects of sense."—{Op. cit., p. 45.) 187. Moreover, if not only a single individual, but several persons, should be " possessed" by one and the same idea or feeling, the same misinterpretation may be made by all of them ; and in such a case the concurrence of their testimony does not add the least strength to it.—Of this we have a good example in the following occurrence cited by Dr. Tuke as showing the influence of a " dominant idea " in falsifying the perceptions of a number of persons at once :— d. " During the conflagration at the Crystal Palace in the Winter of 1866-67, when the animals were destroyed by the fire,, it was supposed that the Chimpanzee had succeeded in escaping from his cage. Attracted to the roof, with this expectation in full force, men saw the unhappy animal holding on to it, and writhing in agony to get astride one of the iron ribs. It need not be said that its struggles were watched by those below with breathless suspense, and, as the newspapers informed us, ' with sickening dread.' But there was no animal whatever there; and all this feeling was thrown away upon a tattered piece of blind, so torn as to resemble, to the eye of fancy, the body, arms, and legs of an ape ! "—{Op. cit., p. 44.) Another example of a like influence affecting several individuala False Perceptions—Delusions. 209 simultaneously in a similar manner, is mentioned by Dr. Hibbert in his well-known Treatise on Apparitions :— b. A whole ship's company was thrown into the utmost consternation, by the apparition of a cook who had died a few days before. He was distinctly seen walking a-head of the ship, with a peculiar gait by which he was distinguished when alive, through having one of his legs shorter than the other. On steering the ship towards the object, it was found to be a piece of floating wreck. Many similar cases might be referred-to, in which the Imagination has worked-up into "apparitions" some common-place objects, which it has invested with attributes derived from the previous Mental state of the observer; and the belief in such an apparition as a reality, which usually exists in such cases, unless antagonized by an effort of the reason, constitutes a delusion.—The delusions of Insanity usually have their origin in a perverted state of feel- ing; which begins by imparting a false colouring to real occur- rences ; and then, if not checked or diverted, goes on to suggest Ideas having no foundation in fact, which are accepted as realities on account of the incapacity of the disordered mind to brin<* them to the test of Common Sense (§ 562). And there are many persons quite saue upon ordinary matters, and even (it may be) distinguished by some special form of ability, who are yet affected with what the writer once heard Mr. Carlyle term a " diluted Insanity "; allowing their minds to become so completely "possessed" by "dominant ideas," that their testimony as to what they declare themselves to have witnessed—even when Beveral individuals concur in giving exactly the same account of it — must be regarded as utterly untrustworthy. Of this we have examples at the present time, alike in the asserted appearances of the Virgin, and in the marvels of " Spiritualism ;" while the same lesson is taught by the records of the prevalent delusions of past ages, and pre-eminently by those of Witchcraft. 188. Instinctive Feelings.—The attainment of that grade of 21 o Of Perception and Instinct. Mental development which enables us to apprehend the objective reality of external things, seems to make us capable of experiencing certain feelings in regard to them, which are nearly akin to those that are immediately associated with Sensations (§ 154), but constitute the germs (so to speak) of higher forms of consciousness. Thus the aesthetic sense of the beautiful, of the sublime, of the harmonious, &c, seems in its most elementary form to connect itself immediately with the Perceptions which arise out of the contact of our Minds with external Nature. " All those," says Dr. J. D. Morell, " who have shown a remarkable appreciation of form and beauty, date their first impressions from a period lying far behind the existence of definite ideas or verbal instruction. The germs of all their ^Esthetic impressions manifested themselves, first of all, as a spontaneous Feeling or Instinct, which, from the earliest dawn of reason, was awakened by the presentation of the phenomena which correspond objectively with it in the Universe." These primitive feelings exist in very different intensity in dif- ferent individuals ; and it is where they have most strongly mani- fested themselves at a very early period of life (the sense of Harmony, for example, in the infant Mozart, § 206), that we can see how fundamental a part of our nature they constitute, although they may be but faintly shadowed-forth in a large part of Man- kind. They are peculiarly susceptible of development, however, by appropriate culture; under the influence of which they not merely grow-up in the individual, but manifest themselves with increased vigour and more extended range in successive generations (§§ 201-203). 189. The same may be said of those simple forms of Emotional sensibility (§ 157), which, being no longer purely subjective, requinj as a condition of their existence that they shall relate to an ex- ternal object. This is pre-eminently the case with all those which are termed emotions of sympathy: thus, the Perception of the pain or distress of another tends to call forth (except in individuals of a Instinctive Feelings. 211 peculiarly unsympathetic temperament) a corresponding affection in the percipient Self; and the opposite state of cheerfulness or mirth has a like tendency to affect those who are brought into contact with it, provided that there be nothing positively antago- nistic in their own condition. But further, the Perception of enjoyment in others calls-forth a respondent gladness in ourselves ; whilst the perception of suffering tends to excite in ourselves that feeling of sorrow which we term pity ; and either of these feelings may be experienced, even when we do not ourselves share in the state of elevation or depression which excited them.—More closely connected with the foregoing than is commonly conceived, is that sense of the humorous, which attaches itself to certain manifesta- tions of character presented to us in the actions of others; that sympathy with human nature in which the former have their source, being the foundation of the latter also ; and thus it hap- pened that those writers who have the strongest power of exciting our sense of Humour, are usually distinguished also by their mastery of the Pathetic. To the sense of the humorous, that of the ludicrous is obviously related. Both these, however, when excited by operations of the Intellect, instead of by external objects, belong to a different category (§ 404). The same may be said of the sense of wonder; which in its simplest form may be connected with our Sense-perceptions, but which is more commonly experienced in regard to the Ideas which they excite.—Another group of In- stinctive feelings belonging to the same category, is that which may receive the general designation of attractions and repulsions. These are the elementary states of those Emotions which involve a distinct idea of the object which attracts or repels, and which then assume the forms of desires and aversions (§ 261) ; but it is in this form that they seem to act in the lower Animals and in young Children, whose minds are not yet fully developed into the stage of Ideational consciousness. The various terms like and dislike, partiality and distaste, love and hatred, which we use to 212 Of Perception and Instinct. signify the modes in which we ourselves feel affected by external objects, indicate the existence of this elementary form of Emotional sensibility in connection with the Perceptive consciousness.—There are other Emotional states, some of them rising to the intensity of Passions, which seem to belong to this category; but the examples already cited are sufficient to illustrate the principle, that the elemen- tary forms of Emotion belong to the Perceptional stage of con- sciousness. 190. So, too, there seems to he in this Perceptional stage of Mental activity, the germ which, in a higher phase of development, is evolved into the Moral sense. Experience shows, as Dr. J. D. Morell justly remarks, " that an Instinctive apprehension of ' right' and ' wrong,' as attached to certain actions, precedes in the child any distinct comprehension of the language by which we convey Moral truths. Moreover, the power and the purity of Moral feeling not unfrequently exist even to the highest degree, amongst those who never made the question of Morals in any way the object of direct thought, and may perchance be unconscious of the treasure they possess in their ■ bosoms." Of these elementary Moral feel- ings, those of the lower Animals wThich associate most closely with Man are obviously capable. The sense of duty towards a being of a higher nature, which shows itself in the actions of the young Child towards its Parent or Nurse, long before any Ideational comprehension of it can have been attained, is exactly paralleled by that of the Dog or the Horse towards its Master. " Man," as Burns truly said, " is the God of the Dog." It is the substitution of the superior for the inferior directing principle, the distinct Intellectual comprehension of it, and the Vohtional direction of the Attention to it, which constitutes the essential difference between the most conscientious effort of the enlightened Christian, and the honest and self-sacrificing response to his sense of Duty, which is seen in the Horse that falls down dead from exhaustion after putting forth his utmost power at the behest of his rider, or Instinctive Movements in Man. 213 in the Dog who uses his utmost skill and intelligence in seeking and collecting his master's flock (§ 92).—The elementary form of the Religious sense appears to connect itself, not merely with that simple apprehension of a Power external to ourselves which comes to us from the recognition of it3 manifestations, but with those feelings of Awe and Solemnity which are directly excited by objects of sublimity, grandeur, and mystery. Its higher develop- ment, however, requires an Ideational exercise of the Mind; and with this are connected Emotional states of a more elevated character (§§ 213—215). 191. Instinctive Movements.—It has been already shown that the Instinctive actions of the lower Animals may be regarded as con- stituting the direct and immediate response of their Nervous Mechanism to the impressions made upon it; and that there is reason to believe that, in some instances at least, this mechanism has shaped itself in accordance with the manner in which it has been habitually called into activity (§§ 84, 93). Now there are, perhaps, no movements in Man of a higher character than those immediately related to the maintenance of his Organic Functions (§32), which originally have this character; but there is a very large class in which the immediate response comes to be made, in conse- quence of the habitual " training " of the Automatic mechanism to a certain sequence of movements, under the direction of a certain sequence of Sense-perceptions. 192. One of the most universal of these secondarily automatic actions is that of walking erect; for which the whole Human organization is so obviously adapted, that it seems probable that every Child would acquire the habit proprio motu, without either teaching or example. But this acquirement depends upon the * establishment of a very complicated set of relations between Sense perceptions and respondent Muscular contractions; in virtue of which the latter come to be instinctively prompted by the former. Thus the effort needed for the mere support of the body is 214 Of Perception and Instinct. ordinarily kept up by the " muscular sense;" of which, indeed, we only become cognizant when our attention is directed to it; but the necessity for which is evidenced by the fact, that if the tensory nerve of a limb be paralysed, the contraction of its muscles cannot be sustained by the strongest exertion of the Will, unless the Sight be used to replace the lost Feeling (§ 80). The existence of this partial paralysis may sometimes be recognized by the per- sistent looking-downwards of those who suffer from it; for if, whilst walking, they were to withdraw their eyes from their feet, their legs would at once give way under them. In the ordinary balancing of the body, our movements are still prompted in great degree by the Muscular sense; and this is alone sufficient to the blind, as it is to the seeing man when walking in the dark. It frequently happens, indeed, that Vision, instead of aiding and guiding, brings to us sensations of an antagonistic character; and our movements then become uncertain, from the loss of that power of control over them, which the harmony of the two sensations usually affords. Thus a person unaccustomed to look down heights, feels insecure at the top of a tower or a precipice, although he knows that his body is properly supported ; for the void which ne sees below him contradicts (as it were) the Muscular sense by which he is made conscious of its due equilibrium. So, again, although any one can walk along a narrow plank which forms part of the floor of a room, or which is elevated but little above it, without the least difficulty, and even without any consciousness of effort, yet if that plank be laid across a chasm, the bottom of which is so far removed from the eye that the Visual sense gives no assistance, even those who have braced their nerves against all Fimotional distraction, feel that an effort is requisite to maintain the equilibrium during their passage over it; that effort being aided by the withdrawal of the eyes from the depth below, and the fixation of them on a point beyond, which at the same time helps to give steadiness to the movements, and distracts the Instinctive Movements in Man. 215 mind from the sense of its danger. On the other hand, the sufficiency of the Muscular sense, when the Mind has no conscious- ness of the danger, and when the Visual sense neither affords aid nor contributes to distract the attention, is remarkably illustrated by the phenomena of Somnambulism; forthe sleep-walker traverses, without the least hesitation, the narrow parapet of a house, crosses narrow and insecure planks, clambers roofs, vho divined and enunciated them stand out above their fellows, as inssessed of a Genius which could not only combine but create, of au Insight which could clearly discern what Reason could but dimly shadow forth. Granting this freely, it may yet be shown that the Intuitions of individual Genius are but specially-exalted forms of endowments which are the general property of the Race at the timej and which have come to be so in virtue of its whole previous culture.—This appears readily capable of proof in the case of two forms cf Mental activity, the tendency to which occasionally mani- fests itself so remarkably in individuals as a congenital aptitude, that it must be oonsiderod as embodied in their Constitution; and which are yet so completely the products of culture, that we are able to trace pretty clearly the history of their development. These are the Ideas which relate to Number, and those which relate to Music. 204. There can be no reasonable question that the definite Ideas which we now form of numbers and of the relations of numbers are the products of Intellectual operations based on experience. There are Savages at the present time, who cannot count beyond five ; and even among races that have attained to a considerable proficiency in the arts of life, the range of numerical power seems extremely low. In Eastern nations generally, it would appear that definite conceptions of Number are more limited than their language implies; for in their descriptions of what they have themselves witnessed, they are in the habit of using what to our * This is the form in which the doctrine now known as that of the "Con. servation of Energy" was enunciated by Dr. Mayer, in the very remarkable fissay published by him in 1845, entitled "Die organische Bewegung in ihren Zusammenhange mit dem StoffwechseL" Numerica I Intuition. 231 "matter-of-fact" apprehension are ludicrous exaggerations in regard to numbers, although these descriptions would probably not convey any erroneous ideas to those for whom they were intended.* Although the ancient Greeks developed the science of Arithmetic up to a certain point, they were incapacitated from oarrying it further by the clumsiness of their mode of expressing large numbers ; which made it necessary for their higher com- putations to use symbols borrowed from Geometry—the science of Space ; as when they spoke of the square or the cube of a number. It was the introduction into Europe, from India, of what we are accustomed to call the "Arabic notation," that gave an entirely new development to Arithmetical science ; the essential features of this notation being the combination of the local value of each of the figures representing any number, with the decimal multiplication in the value given to them by their position. The science of Arithmetic, as at present existing, may be regarded as the accumulated product of the intellectual ability of successive generations; each generation building up some addition to the knowledge which it has received from its predecessor. But it can scarcely be questioned by any observant person, that an aptitude for the apprehension of numerical ideas has come to be embodied in the congenital Constitution of races which have long cultivated this branch of knowledge ; so that it is far easier to teach Arith- metic to the child of an educated stock, than it would be to a young Yanco of the Amazons, who, according to La Condamine, can count no higher than three, his name for which is Poettarrar- orincoaroac. 205. The most satisfactory evidence of the existence of a numerical intuition, or congenital aptitude for recognising the relations of Numbers, is furnished by the not unfrequent display of * A very interesting example of this tendency was presented by the "Journal of Two Parsee Shipbuilders," who visited this country about forty years ago, and published their experiences for the benefit of their countrymen. 232 Of Ideation Generally. this faculty among Children; for, as the Writer is informed by a friend who has a large field of observation among Primary Schools in which "mental arithmetic " is cultivated, it often happens that individuals who have received very little instruction surpass their fellows in the quickness and accuracy of their replies to numerical questions proposed to them, though they cannot be brought to explain the processes by which they have worked-out their results. More remarkable instances, however, are presented by the occasional display of very extraordinary Arithmetical ability on the part of individuals, who, having received very little instruction, have not only anticipated, but have gone far beyond, any power derivable from instruction, in almost immediately arriving at the answers to questions, which, according to ordinary Arithmetical methods, would involve long computations of a very elaborate character. The case of Zerah Colburn, the son of an American peasant, is especially remarkable among these, not only for the immediateness and correctness with which he gave the answers to questions re- solvable by simple but prolonged computation,—such as the product of two numbers, each consisting of two, three, or four figures; the exact number of minutes and seconds in a given period of time; the raising of numbers up to high powers ; or the extraction of the square and cube roots ;—but, still more, for his power of at once answering questions to which no rules known to Mathematicians would apply. It was when the lad was under six years of age, and before he had received any instruction either in writing or in arithmetic, that he surprised his father by repeating the products of several numbers; and then, on various arithmetical questions being proposed to him, by solving them all with facility and correctness. Having been brought over to London in 1812, at the age of eight years, his powers were tested by several eminent Mathematicians ; among them Francis Baily, from whose account of him the following examples are selected :— He raised any number consisting cf one figure progressively to th« Numerical Intuition—Zerah Colburn. 233 tenth power ; giving the results (by actual multiplication, and not by memory) faster than they could be set down in figures by the person appointed to record them. He raised the number 8 progressively to the sixteenth power; and in naming the last result, which consisted of fifteen figures, he was right in every one. Some numbers consisting of two figures he raised as high as the eighth power; though he found a difficulty in proceeding when the products became very large. On being asked the square root of 106929, he answered 327, before the original number could be written down. He was then required to find the cube root of 268,336,125; and with equal facility and promptness he replied 645. He was asked how many minutes there are in 48 years; and before the question could he written down, he replied 25,228,800, and im- mediately afterwards he gave the correct number of seconds. On being requested to give the factors which would produce the number 247483, he immediately named 941 and 263, which are the only two numbers from the multiplication of which it would result. —On 171395 being proposed, he named 5x34279, 7x24485, 59x2905, 83x2065, 35x4897, 295x581, and 413x415.—He was then asked to give the factors of 36083, but he immediately replied that it had none, which is really the case, this being a prime number.—Other numbers being proposed to him indiscriminately, he always succeeded in giving the correct factors, except in the case of prime numbers, which he generally discovered almost as soon as pro- posed. The number 4,294,967,297, which is 2s2 + 1, having been given to him, he discovered (as Euler had previously done) that it is not the prime number which Fermat had supposed it to be, but that it is the product of the factors 6,700,417x641. The solution of this problem was only given after the lapse of some weeks; but the method he took to obtain it clearly showed that he had not derived his information from any extraneous source. When he was asked to multiply together numbers both consisting of more than three figures, he seemed to decompose one or both of them into its factors, and to work with these separately. Thus on being asked to give the square of 4395, he multiplied 293 by itself, and then twice multiplied the product by 15. And on being asked to tell the square of 999,999, he obtained the correct result, 234 Of Ideation Generally. 999,998, 000,001, by twice multiplying the square of 37037 by 27. He then of his own accord multiplied that product by 49 ; and said that the result (viz. 48,999,902,000,049) was equal to the square of 6,999,993. He afterwards multiplied this product by 49 ; and observed that the result (viz. 2,400,995,198,002,401) was equal to the square of 48,999,951. He was again asked to multiply this pro- duct by 25; and in naming the result (viz. 60,024,879,950,060,025) he said that it was equal to the square of 244,999,755. On being interrogated as to the method by which he obtained these results, the boy constantly declared that he did not know how the answers came into his mind. In the act of multiplying two numbers together, and in the raising of powers, it was evident (alike from the facts just stated, and from the motion of his lips) that some operation was going forward in his mind; yet that operation could not (from the readiness with which the answers were furnished) have been at all allied to the usual modes of procedure, of which, indeed, he was entirely ignorant, not being able to perform on paper a simple sum in multiplication or division. But in the extraction of roots and in the discovery of factors of large numbers, it did not appear that any operation could take place: since he gave answers immediately, or in a very few seconds, which, according to the ordinary methods, would have required very difficult and laborious calculations; and prime numbers cannot be recognized as such by any known rule. It is remarked by Mr. Baily that the same faculty, improved by cultivation, appears to have been possessed by the illustrious Euler; who had not only a most extraordinary memory for numbers—to the extent, it is said, of being able to recall the first six powers of any number under 100,—but also a kind of divining power, by which " he perceived, almost at a glance, the factors of which his formula? were composed ; the particular system of factors belonging to the question under consideration ; the various artifices by which that system might be simplified and reduced; and the relation of tho several factors to the conditions of the hypothesis."—This power of divining truths in advance of existing knowledge, is the special attribute of those Mathematicians who have done most for tin Musical Intuition:—Mozart. 235 development of their science. A notable instance of it is furnished by the celebrated formula devised by Newton for the solution of equations; for although its correctness was proved experientially by the results of its application in every conceivable variety of case, its rationale seems to have been unknown to Newton himself, and remained a puzzle to succeeding Mathematicians, until discovered by the persevering labours of Professor Sylvester, who is himself specially distinguished for the possession of this highest form of Mathematical genius.—That such a power as Zerah Colburn's should exist in a child who had never been taught even the rudi- ments of Arithmetic, seems to point (as Mr. Baily remarks) to the existence of properties of numbers as yet undiscovered, somewhat analogous to those on which the system of Logarithms is based. And if, as he grew older, he had become able to make known to others the methods by which his results were obtained, a real advance in knowledge might have been looked for. But it seems to have been the case with him, as with George Bidder and other " calculating boys," that with the general culture of the mind, this special power faded away. 206. The development of the Science and Art of Music has been even more recent. Whatever may have been the advances made in early times towards the " scale " of notes which all civilized Races now accept as the basis alike of Melody and of Harmony, it is pretty certain that the ancients cultivated Melody (or the succes- sion of notes) exclusively, and that Harmony (or the combination of simultaneous tones) is of quite modern origin, the first indications of such combination not showing themselves until the Middle Ages. It was not, indeed, until the 16th century, that the system of counterpoint, or the arrangement of separate "parts" in harmony, was developed; and although this rapidly attained a high degree of perfection, as regards both Vocal and Instrumental music, the art of orchestration—that is, the use, either in combina tion or in contrast, of Instruments of different capacities and >.36 Of Ideation Generally qualities of tone, so as enormously to increase the range and variety of musical effects—is the product of the 18th century. Now whilst, as in the case of Number, the Musical science of any given period is the general expression of the accumulated knowledge, based 0*1 experience, of those who had devoted themselves to its culture in previous generations, there have arisen, from time to time, individuals in whom there has obviously been not merely a congenital aptitude for the acquirement of the Musical knowledge previously attained, but a power of anticipating, without any experience of their own, the results at which their predecessors had arrived, and then of creating forms of Musical thought entirely new, which have served as standards or models for those who have corny after them.—No more remarkable instance of this kind couli be adduced, than that which is presented by the short but brilliant career of Mozart :* and this will also furnish illustrations of the spontaneous working of Genius of the highest order, trained and disciplined by the most thorough Culture (§§ 232, 400). The father of Mozart was not only an excellent performer on the violin (for which instrument he produced a Method that was long esteemed the best of its kind), but was well skilled in the Theory of Music, and wrote in various styles with no inconsiderable success. Of his seven children, only two survived the period of infancy; Anna Maria (born Aug. 29, 1751), and Wolfgang (born Jan. 27, 1756), who was four years and a half younger than his sister. That the girl inherited considerable musical ability, appears from the fact that at seven years old she was her father's pupil on the clavier (the early form of pianoforte), at which her progress was great and uniform; that when on the musical tour which she made with her brother, her performance was considered only less wonderful than his; and that she finally gained the highest reputation that any female performer on a keyed instrument had at that time acquired. She seems, however, to have been altogether destitute of the inventive faculty by which her brother was pre-eminently distinguished. * The materials of the following sketch are chiefly derived from the admm-blo "Life of Mozart," by Edward Holmes, London, 1S45. Musical Intuition: —Mozart. 237 At the time that his sister was commencing clavier practice, Wolfgang, then three years old, " was a constant attendant on her lessons; and already showed, by his fondness for striking thirds, and pioasing his ear by the discovery of other harmonious intervals, a lively interest in Music. At four he could always retain in memory the brilliant solos in the Concertos which he heard; and now his father began, half in sport, to give him lessons. The musical faculty Deems to have been intuitive in him; for in learning to play, he learned to compose at the same time: his own nature discovering to him some important secrets in melody, rhythm, symmetry, and the art of setting a bass. To learn a minuet, he required half an hour, for a longer piece an hour; and having once mastered them, he played them with perfect neatness and in exact time. His progress was so great, that at four years of age, or earlier, he composed little pieces, which hia father wrote down for him." From four to six years old, he was continually exercising himself in this manner, and acquired great experience in design and modulation; so that there could be no longer a doubt of the extraordinary precocity of his Musical genius. "His desire of knowledge was great on all subjects ; but in Music he astonished his teacher, not so much by an avidity for information, as by the impossibility of telling him anything which he did not know before. At the age of six years, Mozart knew the effect of sounds as represented by notes, and had overcome the difficulty of composing unaided by an instrument. Having commenced composition without recourse to the clavier, his powers in mental music constantly increased, and he soon imagined effects of which the original type existed only in his brain." ^ An incident which occurred at Wassenburg when the boy, not yet eight years old, first tried an organ with pedals, is thus narrated in one of his father's letters:—" To amuse ourselves, I explained the pedals to Wolfgang. He began immediately stante pede to try them, pushed the stool back, and preluded standing and treading the bass, and really as if he had practised many months. Every one was aston- ished ; this is a new gift of God, which many only attain after much * labour." This is the more remarkable, as not merely the execution but the style suitable to it, must have been new to the juvenile musician, When young Mozart was nearly fourteen, his father took him to *3^ Of Ideation Generally. Italy for about sixteen months; and this tour seems to have had a con- siderable influence on his musical development. "In a country which was pre-eminently the seat of excellence in the fine arts, and where to excite admiration was proportionably difficult, his progress was a per- petual ovation. Under these circumstances, his genius was in a state of peculiar exaltation; for sympathy, it is to be observed, was the atmosphere of his artistic existence ; and he could neither play nor com- pose to his own satisfaction, without the consciousness of being enjoyed and appreciated. But the stamp of his great individuality as a dramatio musician was not as yet visible." In his Church music he seems to have followed the dictates of his artistic feelings and musical science; but in writing for the Theatre he at first aimed chiefly at gaining success by consulting the taste of his audience.—"Inreviewing the numerous instrumental Compositions of Mozart's youth, we are struck with the effort he made to master his ideas. The Quartett and Symphony productions of this period show many beautiful thoughts not yet turned to due account, but which he resumed and more fully developed in subseauent compositions. Thus his memory in after-life became a perfect storehouse of melodies and subjects which had long been floating n his imagination, and which his exquisite tact and judgment enabled him instantly to apply. We find this particularly in his Operas and Symphonies." It was in 1780, when Mozart was in his twenty-fifth year, that he produced the Opera of Idomeneo; the first of that series of great Dramatic works, which have retained a permanent place to the pre- sent time in the estimation of all true Musicians. Up to this period, in attempts at dramatic composition, he had followed existing models ; but in " Idomeneo " he asserted his independence of them, and developed modes and powers of musical expression, which took the most cultivated musicians by surprise, and have ever since been accepted as true and appropriate. " Youthful fire and invention," says Mr. Holmes, " were never so happily tempered by consummate experience." The performers, who had brought tone and facility of execution upon their instruments to great perfection, but had never been animated by what they played, " were awakened by the magio touch of genius to a new life in their art; they found themselves discoursing in an unheard and rapturous language; and the effect upon them was one of intoxication and enchantment."—Though if Musical Intuition:—Mozart. 239 ie usual to assign to Haydn that development of the powers and capacities of the different instruments of the Orchestra, which un- questionably constitutes the distinguishing feature of the Music of this epoch, yet competent critics maintain that the basis of this development was clearly laid in "Idomeneo," which was produced neveral years before the great Symphonies of Haydn. The position to which Mozart was at once raised by its production, as the greatest of dramatic composers, was made still more glorious by the immortal works that followed it, " Le Nozze di Figaro " and " Don Giovanni:" of the former of which it has been said that "while all the comic operas coeval with it are lost, not a note of that composition has faded, so that when reproduced it still finds as many enthusiastic admirers as a Comedy of Shakspere; " while the latter still " stands alone in dramatic eminence, combining the labour of the greatest melodist, symphonist, and master of dramatic expression ever united in the same individual." But even these grand works, each of which occupied only a few weeks in its composition, constitute only a small part of the pro- ductions poured forth from the pen of Mozart, which seemed to be an inexhaustible fountain of music of the most varied character. There are scarcely any of the "unconsidered trifles" which he briefly gave forth, sometimes as the mere overflowings of his in- ventive faculty, that do not bear the stamp of his genius; while every one of those which he purposely elaborated with all the re- sources of his art, such as his Quartetts and Quintette, his Sym- phonies, and above all the "Requiem," would of itself, if it stood alone, have marked an era in Musical history. " These works," it has been said, "show the variety of powers that Mozart brought to composi- tion : the great organist and contrapuntist—the profound master of harmony and rhythm, are there—but taste and imagination ever preside. The quality of these productions can, in fact, only be estimated by the attempts which musicians have been making ever eince to attain some credit in the same path." Like other works in advance of their time, however, they were not at first apprt-ciated. The Six Quartetts dedicated to Haydn, for example,—iD which Mozart, making use of the constructive skill which he had learned from the works of the same kind previously produced by Ais great contemporary, advanced beyond him in the invention of n »w har- 240 Of Ideation Generally. monic combinations,—were repudiated by many musicians as full of unauthorised innovations; the Italians, in particular, imputing to mistakes of the engraver what they regarded as grievous blemishes, though now accepted as the greatest beauties of these fascinating compositions. The most remarkable evidence of the fertility and versatility of Mozart's creative power, is furnished by the closing part of his history. It was soon after he commenced the "Zauberflote," that, in an inter- val of depression which marked the commencement of the malady that terminated his life before the attainment of his thirty-sixth year, he composed the " Ave Verum;" a short strain of calm but elevated devotion, which has nowhere its equal for its combination of expres- sive beauty, religious feeling, and scientific skill. He then resumed the " Zauberflote," and had nearly finished it, when he undertook the "Requiem;" having, as he told his wife, a desire to produce a work in which he could develope the elevated and the pathetic in Church music to the highest degree. The " Zauberflote " was put aside, and the "Requiem" was begun; but he had not proceeded far, when his further progress was interrupted by a commission to compose the opera " La Clemenza di Tito " for the Coronation of the Emperor Leopold at Prague; and though this was completed within the wonderfully short space of eighteen days, he astonished his friends at whose house he was staying, by also producing the beautiful Quintett in the first act of the "Zauberflote," the subject of which had come into his mind while he was playing a game of billiards, and had been at once noted down in a memorandum-book of '' musical ideas " which he carried with him. On his return to Vienna, he com- pleted and produced the "Zauberflote;" and then, while stricken down by mortal disease, resumed the " Requiem," which he did not live entirely to complete, hut in which, according to the judgment of all cultivated Musicians, there is a more wonderful combination of sublimity with pathetic beauty, than is to be found in any other Ecclesiastical composition, whether of earlier or later date. 207. In each of the foregoing cases, then, we have a typical t xample of the possession of an extraordinary congenital aptitude for certain forms of Mental activity; which showed itself at so early a period as to exclude the notion that it could have been Origin of Intuitions. 241 acquired by the experience of the individual; and which, in the case of Mozart, led its possessor far beyond the accumulated experience of his predecessors. To such congenital gifts we give the name of Intuitions; and it can scarcely be questioned that, like the Instincts of the lower Animals, they are the expressions of constitutional tendencies embodied in the organism of the indi- viduals who manifest them. But whilst extraordinary in degree, they were not so iu kind ; for Zerah Colburn's faculty for numbers only placed him on the level of those who had previously attained the same results; and the creations of Mozart's genius, even when ihey passed the previous boundaries of musical thought, were loon appreciated by those wLo had already reached them. And it jan scarcely be conceived that a Zerah Colburn could suddenly arise in a race of savages who cannot count above five; or that an infant Mozart could be born amongst a tribe, whose only musical instrument is a tom-tom, whose only song is a monotonous chant. 208. Again, by tracing the gradual genesis of some of those Intellectual Ideas which we now accept as " self-evident,"—such, for example, as that of the " Uniformity of Nature "—we are able to recognize them as the expressions of certain tendencies, which have progressively augmented in force in successive generations, and now manifest themselves as Mental Instincts that pene- trate and direct our ordinary course of thought (§ 199). Such instincts constitute a precious heritage, which has been trans- mitted to us wdth ever-increasing value through the long succession of preceding generations; and which it is for us to transmit to those who shall come after us, with all that further increase which our higher culture and wider range of knowledge can impart. 209. In a similar light we are probably to rank those elementary nc tions of Truth, Beauty, and Right, which present themselves to our consciousness in connection with certain Ideational conditions respectively adapted to excite them ; the first being associated especially with the operations of the Reason, the second with those 242 Of Ideation Generally. of the Imagination as directed by the ^Esthetic sense, and the third with the determination of the Will in the regulation of conduct under the guidance of the Moral sense.—Truth may be defined to be an apprehension of the relations of things as they actually exist; and the conception of Truth, which is originally based upon Sensational Ideas, comes to be also applied to those which are purely Intellectual.—The notion of Beauty, the germ of which, as we have seen (§ 188), exists in the Perceptive con- sciousness, is one that is very difficult to define ; but it seems to consist, when fully developed, in the conformity of an external objest to a certain ideal standard, by which conformity a pleasurable feel- ing is produced. That ideal standard is a work of the Imagination, and is generated (by a kind of automatic process, § 412) by the elimination of all those elements which we recognize as inferior, and by the ntensification and completion of all those which we regard as excellent. Hence according to the Esthetic judgment which every individual pronounces as to these particulars, will be his ideal of Beauty ; and although this judgment is subject to so wide a variation, that the uselessness of disputing about matters of Taste has become proverbial, yet a gradual approximation to agreement shows itself among those who are distinguished by the possession of a high measure of the ^Esthetic sense, and who have cultivated it by the intelligent study of what, by common consent, are regarded as the noblest works of art. In fact, it is from the careful scrutiny of the products of the highest Genius (§ 409), that the rules of art, alike in Poetry and Music, in Painting and Sculpture, are derived. The notion of Beauty extends itself also to the pure conceptions of the Intellect; and thus we may exoe- rience the sense of Beauty in the recognition of a Truth. We experience the sense of Beauty, too, in witnessing the conformity of conduct to a high standard of Moral excellence; which excites in our minds a pleasure of the same order as that which we derive from the contemplation of a noble work of Art.—The notion of Nature of Moral Sense. 243 Right, which is purely Ideational, connects itself with Voluntary action. We have no feeling of approval or disapproval with respect to actions that are necessarily connected with our Physical well- being ; but in regard to most of those which are left to our choice, . t is impossible to feel indifferent; and the sphere of operation of this principle becomes widened, in proportion as the mind dwells upon the notion of Moral obligation which arises out of it. Then, too, the idea of Right is brought to attach itself to thoughts as well as to actions; and this, not merely because the right regulation of the thoughts is perceived to be essential to the right regulation cf the conduct, but also because whatever we can govern by the Will may present itself to the Mind in a Moral aspect. 210. It has been usually considered by Moralists and Theologians, that Conscience, or the Moral sense, is an "autocratic" faculty, which unmistakeably dictates what is right in each individual case, and which should consequently be unhesitatingly obeyed as the supreme and unerring guide. Now this view of the case is attended with practical difficulties, which make it surprising that it can ever have been entertained. For it must be obvious to every one who carefully considers the matter, that whilst a notion of right as distinguished from wrong, attaching itself to certain actions, is as much a part of the Moral nature of every individual, as the feeling of pleasure or pain attaching itself to certain states of consciousness is of his Sensational nature, yet the determina- tion of what is right, and what is wrong, is a matter in oTeat degree dependent upon race, education, habits of thought, con- ventional associations, &c. ; so that the Moral standard of no two men shall be precisely alike, while the moral standards of men brought up under entirely different circumstances shall be of the most opposite nature. (Without having recourse, for an illustra- tion of this position, to the strange estimates of right and wron« irhich prevail amongst Savage nations, it may be sufficient to 244 Of Ideation Generally. refer to the different views which used to be conscientiously enter- tained on the question of Slavery, by high-minded, estimable, and Christian men and women in different parts of the American Union.) Moreover, in what have been designated as "cases of conscience," the most enlightened Moralist may have a difficulty in deciding what is the right course of action, simply because the Moral sense finds so much to approve on both sides, that it cannot assign a preponderance to either. Thus, individuals in whose characters the love of truth and of justice and the benevolent affections are the prominent features, and who would shrink with horror from any violation of these principles of action for any selfish purpose whatever, are sorely perplexed when they are brought into collision with each other ; a strong motive to tell a falsehood (for example) being presented by the desire to protect a defenceless fellow-creature from unmerited oppression or death. 211. It is evident, then, that the determination of what is right and what is wrong in any individual case, must be a matter of judgment; the rule of Moral action being based on a comparison of the relative nobility of the motives which impel us to either course, and being decided by the preference which is accorded to one motive or combination of motives above another. As Mr. Martineau has well said,* " Eveiy Moral judgment is relative; and involves a comparison of (at least) two terms. When we praise what has been done, it is with the co-existent conception of something else that might have been done ; and when we resolve on a course as right, it is to the exclusion of some other that is wrong.'" If it be asked, how are the relative values of these motives to be decided, the answer must be sought in the Moral consciousness of Mankind in general; which is found to be more and more accordant In this respect, the more faithfully it is interpreted, the more habitually it is acted-on, and the more the whole Intelligence is expanded and enlightened.—It is this tendency towards universal agree- * " Prospective Review " for November, 1845, pp. 587-9. Moral Responsibility. 245 ment, which shows that there is really as good a foundation for Moral Science in the Psychical nature of Man, as there is for that of Music in the pleasure which he derives from certain com- binations and successions of Sounds. 212. On the other hand, as we cannot attach any Moral character to the actions of Animals that are performed under the direction of a blind undiscerning Instinct, leaving them no choice between one course and another, neither can we attach it to those which are executed by Human beings, even when possessed of their full Intelligence, who are dominated by impulses which they have it not in their power to restrain (§ 264) ; nor, again, to those performed by individuals whose Moral sense has either been never awakened, or has been so completely misdirected by early education, that their standard of right and wrong is altogether opposite to that which the enlightened Conscience of Mankind agrees in adopting (§ 8). But, although there are doubtless many cases in which Criminal actions are committed under the impulse of passions (such as anger, lust, &c.) which the individual has not at the moment the power to control, so that he must be absolved from Moral responsibility quoad the immediate impulses to those particular actions, yet these impulses too frequently derive all their force from the habit of yielding to their promptings in lesser matters, which gradually gives them a " dominance," such as the Will (weakened by want of exercise in the habit of self- restraint) is unable to resist (§ 287). Hence the Criminal action is to be regarded as but the expression of a long previous course of Criminal thought, for which, in so far as he could have otherwise directed it, the individual may legitimately be held responsible,— just as he is for actions committed in the state of Intoxication, in which he has temporarily lost, by his own voluntary act, the power of self-control. 213. Closely connected with many of the foregoing Tendencies to Thought, and arising in most minds from some or other of them 246 Of Ideation Generally. by the very nature of our Psychical constitution, are those Ideas which relate to the Being and Attributes of the Deity. There is, in fact, no part of man's Psychical nature, which does not speak to him, when it is rightly questioned, of something beyond and above himself. The very perception of finite existence, whether in Time or Space, leads to the idea of the Infinite. The perception of dependent existence leads to the idea of the Self-existent. The perception of change in the Universe around leads to the idea of an unseen Power as its cause. The perception of the order and constancy underlying all those diversities which the surface of Nature presents, leads to the idea of the Unity of that power. The recognition of Intelligent Will as the source of the power we ourselves exert, leads to the idea of a like Will as operating in the Universe. And our own capacity for Reasoning, which we know not to have been obtained by our individual exertions, is a direct testimony to the Intelligence of the Being who implanted it.—So are we led from the very existence of our Moral feelings, to the conception of the existence of attributes, the same in kind, how- ever exalted in degree, in the Divine Being. The sense of Truth implies its actual existence in a being who is Himself its source and centre; and the longing for a yet higher measure of it, which is experienced in the greatest force by those who have already attained the truest and widest view, is the testimony of our own souls to the Truth of the Divine Nature. The perception of Right, f.n liko manner, leads us to the Absolute lawgiver who implanted it in our constitution; and, as has been well remarked, "all the appeals of innocence against unrighteous force are appeals to eternal justice, and all the visions of moral purity are glimpses of the infinite excellence." The aspirations of the more exalted Moral natures after a yet higher state of holiness and purity (§ 97), can only be satisfied by the contemplation of such perfection as no merely Human being has ever attained ; and it is only in tb9 contemplation of the Divine Ideal that they meet their Moral a7id Religious Ideas. 247 appropriate object. And the sentiment of Beauty, especially as it rises from the material to the spiritual, passes beyond the noblest creations of Art and the most perfect realization of it in the outward life, and soars into the region of the Unseen, where alone the Imagination can freely expand itself in the contemplation of such beauty as no objective representation can embody.—And it is by combining, so far as our capacity will admit, the ideas which we thus djrive from reflection upon the facts of our own consciousness., with those which we draw from the contemplation of the Universe around us, that we form the justest conception of the Divine Being of which our finite minds are capable. We are led to conceive of Him as the absolute, unchangeable, self- existent,—infinite iu duration,—illimitable in space,—the highest ideal of Truth, Right, and Beauty,—the all-Powerful source of that agency which we recognize in the phenomena of Nature,__ the all-Wise designer of that wondrous plan, whose original perfection is the real source of the uniformity and harmony which we recognise in its operation,—the all-Benevolent contriver of the happiness of His sentient creatures,—the all-Just disposer of events in the Moral world, for the evolution of the ultimate ends for which Man was called into existence. In proportion to the elevation of our own spiritual nature, and the harmonious development of its several tendencies, will be the elevation and harmoniousness of our conception of the Divine; and in proportion more particularly, as we succeed in raising ourselves towards that ideal of perfection which has been graciously presented to us in the " well-beloved Son of God," are the relations of the Divine Nature to our own/eft to be more intimate. And it is from the consciousness of our relation to God, as His creatures, as His children, and as independent but responsible fellow-workers with Him in accomplishing His great purposes, that all those ideas and sentiments arise, which are designated as Religious, and which constitute that most exalted portion of our nature. 14 248 Of Ideation Generally. 214. The pervading consciousness of that relation expresses itself in the notion of Duty; which attaches itself to every action as to which the Ego may believe that the Divine Will has been expressed. But the dictates of this sense will vary with the ideas entertained respecting the Divine character and requirements ; and actions may be sincerely regarded as an acceptable sacrifice by one class of religionists, which are loathed as barbarous and detestable by another. Moreover, the difficulty which attends the determination of what is Morally right (§ 210), often occurs in regard to Religious duty; each of two or more possible modes of action being recom- mended by its conformity to the Divine law on certain points, whilst it seems opposed tc it on others. Thus if a man who might he urged to conceal a Political refugee in immediate danger of capture, were to refuse to do so merely on the fear of unpleasant consequences to himself, he would be justly hranded with the character of a cold-hearted coward; but if his refusal should proceed from the conviction that the Divine Law requires the preference of rigid Truthfulness over every other motive, and that, by concealing the suppliant, he should be forced into a violation of that law, he cannot be blamed even by those who believe that the Law of Compassion " written upon our hearts " is at least equally imperative.—Similar difficulties beset the upholders of the non-resistance creed, which teaches that love is the all-powerful principle in the Moral world, and that it should entirely supersede all those lower impulses of our nature which lead us to oppose force to force, and to resist an unjust and unprovoked assault. Here, again, we might readily understand and sympathise-with those, who consider that the fear of personal suffering does not warrant our doing a severe injury to another in warding-off a threatened attack; but when the question comes to be, not of self-defence, but of protection to ethers who are helpless dependents upon our succour, and who are bound to us by tho closest ties of natural affection, we feel that the comparative nobility of the latter motive warrants actions which our individual peril might scarcely justify. 215. But as in Morals, so in Religion, does it become increasingly Succession of Ideas. 249 obvious, that the more elevated are the ideas of Mankind in regard to the character and will of the Deity, the more do they approach to a general accordance in regard to what constitutes Religious duty ; and the complete coincidence which is thus found to exist between the dictates of the Christian law and the highest principles of pure Morality, should prevent one set of motives from ever coming into antagonism with the other.—The Conscience of the religious man, indeed, may be said to be the resultant of the combination of his Moral sense with the idea of Duty which arises out of his sense of relation to the Deity. With the former are closely associated all those emotions and dispositions, which render him considerate of the welfare of his fellow-men, as of his own ; and with the notion of duty to God are closely united the desire of His favour, the fear of His displeasure, the aspiration after His perfec- tion, all which act like other motives in deciding the Will. Their relative force on any occasion, as compared with that of the lower propensities and sensual desires, greatly depends on the degree in which they are habitually brought to influence the mind; and it is in its power of fixing the attention on those higher considera- tions which ought to be paramount to all others, and of withdrawing it from the lower, that the Will has the chief influence in the direction of the conduct according to the dictates of virtue (Chap. IX.), Section 2.—Succession of Ideas :—Laws of Thought. 216. The conscious Mind, when not engrossed in Sensational or Perceptive acts, is incessantly occupied in thinking, with or without the accompaniment of feeling ; its whole inner life being a succession of ideas and emotions, only suspended by Sleep and Death, or interrupted by the concentration of its attention on Sense- impressions. Now whatever difference of opinion there may be in regard to the degree in which the ordinary Laws of Causation are applicable to Mental phenomena (in other words, as to how far 2 5° Succession of Ideas. each state of consciousness may be considered as determined by its antecedents), all are agreed that there are certain " Laws of Thought," expressive of the uniformities of succession which are observable in Mankind in general; whilst there are others which are characteristic of Races and Individuals; arising either from peculiarities in original constitution, or from the special direction which its congenital activities have acquired, or from both combined; It is not so much, however, the presence or absence of particular attributes, as their proportional development, that differentiate Minds from one another; and it is the habitual predominance (whether original or acquired) of particular sequences of thought and feeling, determined by that proportion, which constitutes the Character of each race or individual. Thus we find the Intellectual character to consist in the predominance of certain Faculties, which, as we shall presently see, are only designations of particular modes of intellectual activity; and a knowledge of these enables us to predicate, to a certain extent, the nature of the result at which any individual Mind will arrive, by its exercise upon a given subject previously thought-out by others. So, again, the Moral character will depend upon the relative predominance which may exist in the individual nature, of those Emotional tendencies, which not merely furnish a large share of the governing motives of the conduct, but which also contribute in a very important measure to the habitual direction of the thoughts: and in proportion to the completeness of our knowledge of the Moral character of any individual, will be our power of predicting the manner in which he will act under any particular contingency. 217. But these uniformities of succession are predicable only of the automatic activity of the Mind : and our own consciousness tells us that there is something in our Psychical nature, which is beyond and above this automatic exercise of our powers; and that the direction of our thoughts is placed, within certain limits, undei Larus of Association. 2 51 the control of the Will (§ 25). These limits, like those of the automatic activities, are partly universal, and partly peculiar to the individual. It is a universal fact that the Will cannot originate anything; but that it has a power of selecting any one out of several objects that present themselves either simultaneously or successively before the mental vision, and of so limiting and intensifying the impression which that particular object makes upon the consciousness, that all others shall be (for the time) non-existent to it. On the other hand, the degree in which this Volitional power is possessed by different individuals, is subject to wide variation. In some it is weak from the beginning, and no training seems effectual in developing it to a degree of full efficiency. In others it shows itself very early in a " masterful" disposition, which aims to bring others under subjection to itself; and here the aim of the Educator should be to cultivate self- mastery, by showing how much nobler is "he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city." It often happens, however, that strong passions are mistaken for strong Will; and that an entirely wrong method of discipline is adopted with a view to " break the Child's will," when what is really needed is to direct its Mental action aright (§ 120). Not unfrequently a strong Volitional power originally exists, but lies dormant for want of being called into exercise (§ 8); and here it is that judicious training can work its greatest wonders. 218. Laws of Association.—The most powerful agency in the automatic determination of the succession of our Mental states, is undoubtedly that tendency which exists in all minds that have attained the ideational stage of development, to the association of ideas ; that is, to the formation of such a connection between two or more Ideas, that the presence of one tends to bring the other also before the consciousness,—or, in other words, that the one suggests the other. Certain Laws of Association, expressive of the conditions under which this connection is formed, and the 25 2 Succession of Ideas. mode in which it acts, have been formularized by Psychologists; * of these the most important will be now specified. 219. Two or more states of consciousness, habitually existing together or in immediate succession, tend to cohere, so that the future occurrence of any one cf them restores or revives the other; this is designated the law of contiguity. It is thus (to take a simple illustration) that the impressions made upon our Sensational consciousness by natural objects, which are usually received through two or more senses at once, become compacted into those composite notions, which, however simple they may appear, really result from the intimate combination of many distinct states of ideation. Thus our notion of the form of an object is made-up of separate notions derived from the visual and muscular senses respectively; our notion of the character of its surface, from the combination of impressions received through the visual and tactile senses; and with both of these our notion of colour, as in the case of an orange, may be so blended, that we do not readily conceive of its characteristic form and surface, without also having before our minds the hue with which these have been always associated in our experience. So, again, the external aspect of a body suggests to our minds its internal arrangement and qualities, such as we have before found them invariably to be; thus, to use the preceding illustration, the shape and colour of the orange bring before our consciousness its fragrant odour and agree- able taste, as well as the internal structure of the fruit. And our idea of " an orange " must be considered as the aggregate of all the preceding notions.—Not only the different ideas excited by one object, but those called-up by objects entirely dissimilar, may thus come to be associated, provided that the mind has been accustomed • In the writings of Prof. Bain will be found the fullest and ablest exposition yet given of the Laws of Association, with copious illustrations of their operation drawn from a great variety of Mental phenomena, by which the Writer haa profited in the outline here given. Association by Contiguity. 253 to the presentation of them in frequent contiguity one with the other. Such conjunctions may be natural, that is, they may arise out of the " order of nature ;" or they may be artificial, being due to human arrangements; all that is requisite is, that they should have sufficient permanence and constancy to habituate our minds to the association.—Of this Law of Contiguity, more- over, we have a most important example in the association which the mind early learns to form between successive events, so that when the first has been followed by the second a sufficient number of times to form the association, the occurrence of the first suggests the idea of the second ; if that idea be verified by its occurrence, a definite expectation is formed; and if that expectation be un- failingly realized, the idea acquires the strength of a belief. And thus it is that we come to acquire that part of the notion of "cause and effect," which rests upon the " invariability of sequence ;" and to form our fundamental conception of the " uniformity of nature" (§ 199, v). It is by the same kind of operation, again, that we come to employ Words as the symbols of ideas, for the convenience of intercommunication and reference (§ 198); a certain number of repetitions of the sound, concurrently with the sight of the object, or the suggestion of the notion of that object, being suf- ficient to establish the required relation in our minds.—Of the large share which this kind of action has in the operations of Memory and Recollection, evidence will be hereafter given (Chap. X). 220. But a not less important tendency of thought, and one whose operation is even more concerned in all the higher exercises of our Reason, is that which may be designated the law of simi- larity; and which expresses the general fact that any present state of consciousness tends to revive previous states which are similar to it. It is thus that we instinctively invest a new object with the attributes we have come to recognise in one we have previously examined, if the newr object bears such a resem- blance to it, that the sight of the second suggests those ideas which 254 Succession oj Ideas. our minds have connected with the first. Thus, we will suppose a man to have once seen and eaten an orange ; when he sees an orange a second time, although it may be somewhat larger or smaller, somewhat rougher or smoother, somewhat lighter or darker in hue, he recognizes it as " an orange," and mentally assigns to it the fragrance and sweetish acidity of the one which he had previously eaten. But if, instead of being yellow, the fruit were green, he would doubt its being an orange; and if assured that it still was, but had not come to maturity, he would no longer expect to find it sweet; the notion of acidity being suggested to his mind by his previous experience of other green and unripe fruit.—It is in virtue of this kind of action, that we extend those elementary notions which are primarily excited by sensation, to new objects. Thus, the idea of roundness (like other notions of form) is originally based on the combination of the tactile and visual sensations, and must be first acquired by a process of con- siderable complexity; but when once derived from the examina- tion of a single object, it is readily extended to other objects of the same character.—So, again, it is by the operation of this mental tendency, that we recognize similarity where it exists in the midst of difference, and separate the points of agreement from those of discordance ; and this, again, not merely as regards objects which are before our consciousness at the same time or in close succes- sion, but also with regard to all past states of consciousness. It is thus that we identify and compare, that we lay the foundations of classification, and that we recover all past impressions which have anything in common with our present state of consciousness.—The intensity of this tendency, and the habitual direction which it takes, vary extremely in different individuals. Some have so great an incapacity for recognizing similarity, that they can only perceive it when it is in marked prominence, their minds taking much stronger note of differences ; whilst others have a strong bias for the detection of resemblances and analogies, and discover them Association by Similarity. 255 where ordinary minds cannot recognize them. Some, again, address themselves to the discovery of similarity among objects of Bense, whilst others study only those ideas which are the objects of our internal consciousness; and it is in the detection of what is essentially similar among the latter, that all the higher operations of the Intellect essentially consist. Even here we find that some are contented with superficial analogies, whilst others are not satisfied until they have penetrated by analysis to the depths of the subject, and are able to compare its "fundamental idea" with others of like kind.—It may be remarked that this mode of action of the mind is in some degree opposed to the preceding; for whilst contiguity leads to the arranging of ideas as they happen to present themselves in actual juxtaposition, and thus to induce a routine which is often most unmeaning (§ 285), similarity breaks through juxtaposition, and brings together from all quarters objects which have an Ideational likeness. 221. It is this habit of mind, which is of essential value in all the sciences of classification and induction. Thus, in the formation of generic definitions to include the characters which a number of objects have in common, their subordinate or specific differences being for a time left out of view, we are entirely guided by the recognition of similarity between the objects we are arranging; and the same is the case in the formation of all the higher groups of Families, Orders, and Classes, the points of similarity becoming fewer and fewer as we proceed to the more comprehensive groups, whilst those of difference increase in corresponding proportion. The sagacity of the Naturalist is shown in the selection of the best points of resemblance, as the foundation of his Classification • the value of characters being determined, on the one hand by their constancy, and on the other by their degree of coincidence with important features of general organization or of physiological history.—In the determination of Physical laws by the process of Induction, the process is somewhat of the same kind; but the «*56 Succession of Ideas. similarities with which we have here to do, are not, as in the preceding case, objective resemblances, but exist only among our Bubjective ideas of the nature and causes of the phenomena brought under our consideration. Thus, there is no obvious relation between the fall of a stone to the Earth, and the motion of the Moon in an elliptical orbit around it; but the penetrating mind of Newton detected a relation of common causation between these two phenomena, which enabled him to express them both under one Law. It was by a like Intellectual perception of similarity, that Franklin was led to determine the identity of lightning with the spark from an electrical machine. And it would be easy to show that it has been in their extraordinary development of this power of recognizing causative similarity, leading to a kind of intuitive perception of its existence, where no adequate ground could be assigned by the Reason for such a relationship, that those men have been eminent, who have done the most to advance Science by the process of inductive generalization. 222. The same kind of Mental activity is also exercised in the contrary direction: namely, in that application of general laws to particular instances, which constitutes deductive reasoning; and in that extension of generic definitions to new objects, which takes place upon every discovery of a new species. We may trace it, again, even in the extension of the meaning of words so as to become applicable to new orders of ideas, in consequence of the resemblances felt to exist between the latter and the ideas of which the words were previously the symbols;—as in the applica- tion of the word " head," which primarily designated the most elevated part of the human body, in such phrases as the " head of a house," the " head of a state," the " head of an army,'' the " head of a mob," in each of which the idea of superiority and command is involved;—or in the phrases the " heads of a discourse," or the " heads of an argument," in which we still trace the idea of authority or direction;—or in the phrases the "head of a Association by Similarity. 257 table," the "head of a river," in which the idea of superi- ority or origin comes to be locally applied;—or in the "head of a bed," or " head of a coffin," in which we have the more distinct local association with the position of the head of Man. Of the foregoing applications (the presence of which in Lan- guages of entirely different families indicates their origin in wide spread identities of modes of thought), those first cited belong to the nature of a metaphor, which has been defined to be " a simile comprised in a word ;" and the judicious use of metaphors, which frequently adds force as well as ornamental variety to the diction, is most seen amongst those who possess a great power of bringing together the like in the midst of the unlike. 223. Every effort, in fact, to trace-out unity, consistency, and harmony, in the midst of the wonderful and (at first sight) per- plexing variety of objects and phenomena amidst which we are placed, is a manifestation of this tendency of the Human mind: and, when conducted in accordance with the highest teachings of the intellect, or guided by that insight which in some minds supersedes and anticipates all reasoning, it enables us to rise to- wards the comprehension of that great Idea of the Universe, which we believe to exist in the Divine Mind in a majestic simplicity of which we can here but faintly conceive, and of which all the phenomena of Nature are but the manifestations to our consciousness.—With this purely Intellectual operation, there is frequently associated a peculiar feeling of pleasure, which consti- tutes a true Emotional state. There are few who devote them- selves to the pursuit of Science, who do not experience this pleasure, either from the detection of new relations of similarity by their own perception of them, or in the recognition of them as developed by others. It is, however, much more intense in some minds than in others; and according to its intensity, will it act as a motive in the prosecution of the search for Truth amidst dis oouragements and difficulties. But all discoveries of identifica* 258 Succession of Ideas. tion, where use and wont are suddenly broken through, and a common feature is discerned among objects previously looked-on as entirely different, produce a flash of agreeable surprise, and the kind of sparkling cheerfulness that arises from the sudden lighten- ing of the burden. And it is in this, that our enjoyment of wit Beems essentially to consist (§ 402). 224. Although the single relations established between ideas, either through Contiguity or through Similarity, may suffice for their mutual connection, yet that connection becomes much stronger when two or more such relations exist consentaneously. Thus, if there be present to our minds two states of consciousness, each of them associated, either by contiguity or similarity, with some third state that is past and " out of mind" at the time, the compound action is more effective than either action would be separately; that is, although the suggestions might be separately too weak to revive the past state of consciousness, they reproduce it by acting together. Of this, which has been termed the law of compound association, we have examples continually occurring to us in the phenomena of Memory ; but it is especially brought into operation in the volitional act of Recollection (§ 372). 225. Another mode in which the Associative tendency operates, is in the formation of aggregate conceptions of things that have never been brought before our consciousness by sense-impres- sions. This faculty, which has been termed constructive associa- tion, is the foundation of Imagination (§ 396); and it is exercised in every other mental operation in which we pass from the known to the unknown. When we attempt to form a concep- tion which shall differ from one that we have already experienced, as a matter of objective reality, by the introduction of only a single new element,—as when we imagine a brick building replaced by one of stone, in every respect similar as to size and form,—we substitute in our minds the idea of stone for that of brick, and associate it by the principle of contiguity with those other ideas, Constructive A ssociation. 259 of which that of the whole building is an aggregate. So, again, if we conceive a known building transferred from its actual site to some other already known to us, we dissociate the existing com- binations, and keep-together the ideas which were previously separated, until their contiguity has so intimately united them, that the picture of the supposed combination may present itself to the mind exactly as if it had been a real scene which we had long and familiarly known. By a further extension of the same power, we may conceive the elements to be varied, as well as the mode of their combination; and thus we may bring before our consciousness a representation in which no particular has ever been present to our minds under any similar relations, and which is, therefore, entirely new to us as a whole, notwithstanding that, when we decompose it into its ultimate elements, we shall find that each of these has been previously before our consciousness. Such a representation, by being continually dwelt-on, may come to have all the force and vividness of one derived from an actual sensory impression; and we can scarcely conceive but that the actual state of the Sensorium itself must be the same in both cases, though this state is induced in the one case by an act of mind, and in the other by objective impressions (§ 100).—A very common modus operandi of this " constructive association," is the realization of a landscape, a figure, or a countenance, from a pictorial representa- tion of it. Every picture must be essentially defective in some of the attributes of the original, as, for example, in the representation of the projection of objects ; and all, therefore, that the picture can do, is to suggest to the mind an idea, which it completes for itself by this constructive process, so as to form an aggregate which may or may not bear a resemblance to the original, according to the fidelity of the picture, and the mode in which it acts upon the mind of the individual. Thus, a mere sketch shall convey to one person a much more accurate notion of the object represented, than a more finished picture shall give to another; because from 260 Succession of Ideas. practice in this kind of mental reconstruction, the former recog- nizes the true meaning of the sketch, and fills it up in his " mind's eye;" whilst the latter can see little but what is actually before his bodily vision, and interprets as a literal presentation that which was intended merely as a suggestion. And it is now generally admitted, that in all the higher forms of representative Art, the aim should be, not to call into exercise the faculty of mere objec- tive realization, but to address that higher power of idealization, which invests the conception suggested by the representation with attributes more exalted than those actually possessed by the original, yet not inconsistent with them. It depends, however, as much on the mind of the individual addressed, as on that of the Artist himself, whether such conceptions shall be formed; since by those who do not possess this power, the highest work of Art is only appreciated, in so far as it enables them to realize the object which it may represent. 226. Having thus pointed out what may be considered the most elementary forms of Mental action, we shall briefly pass in review those more complex operations which may be regarded as in great part compounded of them. The capacity for performing these is known as the Intellect or the reasoning power; and the capacities for those various forms of intellectual activity, which it is con- venient to distinguish for the sake of making ourselves more fully acquainted with them, are termed "intellectual faculties." It appears to the Writer, however, to be a fundamental error to suppose, that the entire Intellect can be split-up into a certain number of faculties ; for each faculty that is distinguished by the Psychologist, expresses nothing else than a mode of activity in which the whole power of the. Mind may be engaged at once,—just as the whole power of the locomotive steam-engine may be em- ployed in carrying its load forwards or backwards, according to the direction given to its action. It is the direction of the attention to external objects, for example, that constitutes the " faculty " of obser- Acts of Reasoning. 261 vation ; which is simply that form of activity, in which the Mind is occupied by the Sense-impressions it is receiving, either from a number of sources at once, or from a more limited area, the im- pressions in the latter case being proportionally intensified (§ 123). On the other hand, it is the direction of our attention to what is passing within us,—not merely intensifying the Mental state, but separating and bringing it forward as an object of contemplation, —which is designated as reflection, but is more appropriately termed introspection. In each of these the whole Mind may be so completely engaged, that the two activities cannot go on simul- taneously (§ 117). So, again, in that reproduction of past states of consciousness which we term memory, and, still more in that vohtional recall of them which constitutes recollection, we have the whole mind at work in certain definite sequences expressed by the " laws of association." 227. Upon the various Ideational states, which are either directly excited by Sense-impressions, or are reproduced by Memory, and are sequentially connected in " trains of thought" by suggestions arising out of pre-formed associations, all acts of Reasoning are founded. These consist, for the most part, in the aggregation and collocation of ideas, the decomposition of complex ideas into more simple ones, and the combination of simple ideas into general expressions; in wdiich processes are exercised the faculty of comparison, by which the relations and connections of ideas are perceived,—that of abstraction, by which we mentally isolate from the rest any particular quality of the object of our thought, —and that of generalization, by which we recognize the common properties we have abstracted, as composing a distinct notion, that of some genus in which the objects are comprehended. These » operations, when carefully analyzed, seem capable of reduction to this one expression,—namely, the fixation of our Attention either on some particular classes of ideas, from among those which sug- gestion brings before our consciousness, or on some particular 262 Succession of Ideas. relations of those ideas; and this fixation may depend, as already shown, either on the peculiar attractiveness which these ideas or relations have for us (the constitution of individual minds varying greatly in this respect), or on the determination of our own Will. All these faculties are exercised in the act of judgment; which is a summary expression of the entire process—how simple or how complex soever—by which we arrive at a decision either as to the absolute or probable truth or falsehood of any proposition, or as to the moral or prudential bearing of any course of action. —There is strong reason to believe that these processes may be performed automatically to a very considerable extent, without any other than a permissive act of Will. It is clearly by such automatic action, that the before-mentioned "fundamental axioms" or "secondary intuitions" (§ 199) are evolved; and there is not one of the operations above described which may not be performed quite involuntarily, especially by an individual who is naturally disposed to it. Thus, to some persons, the tendency to compare any new object of consciousness with objects that have been previously before the mind, is so strong as to be almost irresistible; and this, or any other original tendency, is strengthened by the habit of acting in conformity with it. So, again, the tendency to abstract is equally strong in the minds of others, who instinctively seek to separate what is fundamental and essential in the proper- ties of objects, from what is superficial and accidental; and their attention being most attracted by the former, they readily recognize the same characters elsewhere, and are thus as prone to combine and generalize, as others are to analyse and distinguish. 228. It is only, in fact, when we intentionally divert the current of thought from the direction in which it was previously running, — -when we determine to put our minds in operation in some parti- cular manner,—and make a choice of means adapted to our end (as in the act of recollection (§ 370), by purposely fixing our attention upon one class of objects to the exclusion of others,—that we can ba Automatic Activity and Volitional Co?itrol. 263 said to use the Will in our intellectual processes; and this exercise of it is shown, by the analysis of our own consciousness, to be less constant than is commonly supposed. Thu3 we may imagine a man sitting-down at a fixed hour every day, to write a treatise upon a subject which he has previously thought-out: after that first effort of Will by which .his determination was made, the daily continuance of his task becomes so habitual to him, that no fresh exertion of it is required to bring him to his desk; and, unless he feel unfit for his work, or some other object of interest tempt him away from it, so that he is called-upon to decide between contending motives, his will cannot be fairly said to be brought into exercise. It may need, perhaps, some Volitional fixation of his attention upon the topics upon which he had been engaged when he last dropped the thread, to enable him to recover it, so as to commence his nevy labours in continuity with the preceding; but when once his mind is fairly engrossed with the subject, this developes itself before his consciousness according to his previous habits of mental action; ideas follow one another in rapid and continuous succes- sion, clothe themselves in words, and prompt the movements by which those words are expressed in writing; and this automatic action may continue uninterruptedly for hours (§ 236 a), without any tendency of the mind to wander from its subject, the Will being only called into play when the feeling of fatigue or the distraction of other objects renders it difficult to keep the attention fixed upon that which has previously held it by its own attractive power (§ 315).—The converse of this condition is expe- rienced, when some powerful interest tends to draw-off the attention elsewhere, and the thoughts are found to wander continually from the subject in hand; or when, from the undue protraction of mental exertion, the physical condition is such, that the thoughts no longer develope themselves consecutively, nor shape themselves into appropriate forms of expression. In either of these cases the Intellectual powers can only be kept in action upon the 264 Succession of Ideas. pre-determined subject, by a strong effort of the will: of this effort we are conscious at the time, and feel that we need to put forth even a greater power than that which would be required to generate a large amount of physical force through the muscular system ; and we subsequently experience the results of it, in the feeling of excessive fatigue which always follows any such exertion, 229. The more carefully the actions of early Childhood are ob- served, the more obvious does it become that they are solely prompted by ideas and feelings which automatically succeed one another, in uncontrolled accordance with the laws of suggestion. This principle has already been referred to (§ 120); but the following illustrations of it, which show that a Child very early comes to adapt the expression of its wants, or the communication of its ideas, to the receptivity of the person addressed,—and this not by intention, but in accordance with an acquired intuition based on its everyday experience,—may be here appropriately intro- duced :— a. Dr. Kitto, whose experience of entire loss of the sense of Hearing has formed the subject of a very interesting Autobiography, tells us that his children, in their successive infancies, would begin to imitate the finger-language whenever they saw him, even whilst they were yet in arms, and could have had no true cognizance of his peculiar condition.—{The Lost Senses, vol. i., p. 97.) b. The following case, originally recorded by Dr. C. B. Radcliffe, has been found by the subsequent enquiries of the Writer to be one of very common occurrence.—A child of English parents residing in Germany, being under the care of a German nurse, had acquired the power of speaking on ordinary matters either in German or English, without confusing the words or idioms; but yet seemed invariably compelled to reply in the language used by the person he was addressing. Thus, in conveying a message to his German nurse, he delivered it in German, though he had received it the moment previously in English; but on returning to the English family in the parlour, if asked what the maid had said, he answered in English as often as the question was proposed in English; and even though A utomatic A ctivity of Childhood. 265 pressed to give the words he had heard in the nursery, he still continued to do the same, without seeming to be aware of the difference. But if the question was put to him in German, the answer was in German; there being the same inability to reply in English, as there had previously been to give a German answer to the English question.—{Philosophy of Vital Motion, p. 137). c. In another instance known tc the Writer, the child of a French father resident in England, and of an English-speaking mother, who was growing-up to speak to his father in French and to his mother in English, was taken by his father to spend the summer in Switzer- land, where he never heard anything but French spoken, and for several weeks himself spoke French exclusively. One day, as the father and child were walking together, they met some English friends, who addressed the boy in English, but could get no replv from him, though he answered them at once in French when they spoke to him in that language. The father feared that the boy had already lost his mother tongue; but on returning home the lad at once found it again, telling his mother in English of all that had happened to him abroad. These two cases, though in some respects dissimilar, are obviously referable to the same principle ; for the result was determined in each by the automatic action of the Mind, in accordance with the laws of association. In the former case, the language of each answer was suggested by that in which the question was put; whilst in the latter, it was determined in the first instance by the last acquired habit, and in the second by the recurrence of the circumstances under wThich the original habit had been formed. 230. Even in the adult, the predominance of the automatic activity of the Mind over that which is regulated by the will, is often seen as a result of a want of balance between the two; arisino- either from the excessive/orceof the former, or from the unusual weakness of the latter. We have an example of it in the loose ramblin^ talk of persons who have never schooled themselves to the maintenance of a coherent train of thought, but are perpetually " flyino- off in a tangent,"—sometimes at a mere sensorial suggestion (conveyed 266 Succession of Ideas. by the sound or the visual conception of a word), sometimes at the prompting of an ideational association of a most irrelevant kind. A most truthful portraiture of a low type of this order of mind is presented in the " Mrs. Nickleby" of Dickens : while, in real life, we have had a most striking exemplification of its most exalted form in Coleridge, whose talk was just as disjointed as Mrs. Nicklebv's. though relating to the highest instead of the most trivial subjects. His career, indeed, affords so remarkable a "study" to the Psychologist who takes as his guiding idea the relation between automatic activity and volitional direction, that the principal features of it will be here brcught under review. 231. There was probably no man of his time, or perhaps of any time, who surpassed Coleridge in the aombination of the reasoning powers of the Philosopher with the imagination of the Poet and the inspiration of the Seer; and there was perhaps not one of the last generation, who has left so strong an impress of himself in the subsequent course of thought of reflective minds engaged in the highest subjects of human contemplation. And yet there was probably never a man endowed with such remarkable gifts, who accomplished so little that was worthy of them,—the great defect of his character being the want of Will to turn his gifts to account; so that, with numerous gigantic projects constantly floating in hia mind, he never brought himself even seriously to attempt to execute any one of them. It used to be said of him, that whenever either natural obligation or voluntary undertaking made it his duty to do anything, the fact seemed a sufficient reason for his not doing it. Thus, at the very outset of his career, when he had found a book- seller (Mr. Cottle) generous enough to promise him thirty guineas for poems which he recited to him, and might have received the whole sum immediately on delivering the manuscript, he weut on, week after week, begging and borrowing for his daily needs in the most humiliating manner, until he had drawn from his patron the whole of the promised purchase money, without supplying A utomatic A ctivity:—Coleridge. 267 him with a line of that poetry which he had only to write down to free himself from obligation.—The habit of recourse to nervine stimulants (alcohol and opium) which he early formed, and from which he never seemed able to free himself, doubtless still further weakened his power of Volitional self-control; so that it became necessary for his welfare, that he should yield himself to the control of others. The character of his Intellect was emineutly speculative. He tells us, in his "Biographia Literaria," that even before reaching his fifteenth year, he had bewildered himself in metaphysics and theological controversy ; that nothing else pleased him ; and that, in especial, history and particular facts had no interest for him. This complete isolation of his mind from all the realities of life, except the friendships to which he was held by personal sympathy, marked his character throughout; what he would himself have called its subjective side having so great a predominance, that he seldom seemed to care to bring his ideas to the test of conformity with objective facts. All accounts of Coleridge's habits of thought, as manifested in his conversation (which was a sort of thinking aloud), agree in showing that his train of mental operations, once started, went on of itself,—sometimes for a long distance in the original direction, sometimes with a divergence into some other track, according to the consecutive suggestions of his own mind, or to new suggestions introduced into it from without. a. The Writer once heard a very characteristic instance of this, from a gentleman who had obtained an introduction to him when he was domiciled with the Gillmana at Highgate. After presenting his credentials, his visitor expressed a hope that he was better, having hoard that he had been ill. "Yes," said Coleridge, "I am better, but I should be better still if I did not dream so much. These sub- jective states are very curious." And then he discoursed for two hours continuously on "subject" and "object;" or, as Carlyle graphically tells us, on what " he sang and snuffled into ' om—m— inject,' and ' sum—m- mject,' with a kind of solemn shake or quaver as he rolled along." 268 Succession of Ideas. b. How little he thought of his listeners, when he was once fairly launched, is proved by the following account of his habits, narrated to the Writer by a friend who was a school-girl at Highgate at the time of Coleridge's residence there. Being accustomed to walk every day in the " Grove," at an hour when the girls were at play there, he would sometimes draw one of the children to him, and begin by caressing and coaxing her to talk to him; but very soon the con- versation would pass into the accustomed monologue, altogether beyond the comprehension of the poor child, who was like the "wedding-guest" under the spell of the " ancient mariner," vainly endeavouring to free herself that she might resume her sport. Thus " old Coley," as the school-girls irreverently nicknamed him, became the terror of the children of the neighbourhood, who learned sedulously to keep out of his way. c. Charles Lamb's story of his having cut off the button by which Coleridge was holding him one morning, when he was going in to London by the Enfield stage; of his leaving Coleridge in full talk, with the button in one hand, and sawing the air with the other; and of his finding him discoursing in exactly the same attitude when he came back to Enfield in the afternoon,—is, of course, a ludicrous exaggeration ; but it conveys, like other "myths," a true idea of the degree in which Coleridge was habitually " possessed " by the train of thought that happened to be passing through his mind at the time. In fact, Coleridge's whole life might almost be regarded as a sort of waking dream. The composition of the poetical fragment " Kubla Khan" in his sleep, as told in his " Biographia Literaria," is a typical example of automatic mental action. d. He fell asleep whilst reading the passage in "Purchas's Pilgrim- age" in which the "stately pleasure-house" ia mentioned; and, on awaking, he felt as if he had composed from two to three hundred lines, which he had nothing to do but to write down, "the images rising up aa things, with a parallel production of the correspondent expressions, without any sensation or consciousness of effort." The whole of this singular fragment, as it stands, consisting of fifty-four lines, was written as fast as his pen could trace the words; but having been interrupted by a person on business, who stayed with him above an A utomatic A ctivity:—Coleridge. 269 hour, he found, to his surprise and mortification, that, "though he still retained some vague and dim recollection of the general purport of the vision, yet, with the exception of some eight or ten scattered lines and images, all the rest had passed away, like the images on the surface of a stream into which a stone had been cast; but, alas! with- out the after-restoration of the latter." In the wonderfully graphic description of Coleridge's appearance and style of discourse, given by Carlyle (" Life of John Sterling," Chap. VIII.), it is necessary to bear in mind the essential difference, one might almost say the contrariety, between the characters of the " subject" and his pourtrayer : the "history and particular facts" which had "no interest" for the one, being the favourite mental food for the other ; while the purely speculative problems in which Coleridge delighted (parodied by his friend Charles Lamb, in the question " How many angels can dance on the point of one needle?"), would have been regarded by Carlyle as altogether futile. e. " Coleridge's whole figure and air," says Carlyle, "good and amiable otherwise, might be called flabby and irresolute ; expressive of weakness under possibility of strength. He hung loosely on his limbs, with knees bent, and stooping attitude. In walking he rather shuffled than decisively etept; and a lady once remarked he never could fix which side of the garden-walk would suit him best, but continually shifted in corkscrew fashion, and kept trying both. "Nothing could be more copious than his talk; and, furthermore, it was always virtually or literally of the nature of a monologue; Buffering no interruption, however reverent; hastily putting aside all foreign additions, annotations, or most ingenuous desires foi elucidation, as well-meant superfluities which would never do. Besides, it was talk not flowing any whither like a river, but spreading every whither in inextricable currents and regurgitations like a lake or sea; terribly deficient in definite goal or aim—nay, often in logical intelligibility; ivhat you were to believe or do, on any earthly or heavenly thing, obstinately refusing to appear from it. So that, most times, you felt logically lost, swamped, near to 2?o Succession of Ideas. drowning, in this tide of ingenious vocables, spreading out boundless as if to submerge the world. " He began anywhere. You put some question to him, made some suggestive observation; instead of answering this, or decidedly Betting out towards answering it, he would accumulate formidable apparatus, logical-swim bladders, transcendental life-preservers, and other precautionary and vehiculatory gear, for setting out; perhaps did at last get under weigh, but was swiftly solicited, turned aside by the glance of some radiant new game on this hand or that, into new courses, and ever into new, and before long into all the universe, where it was uncertain what game you would catch, or whether any. His talk, alas ! was distinguished, like' himself, by irresolution; it disliked to be troubled with conditions, abstinences, definite fulfil- ments ; loved to wander at its own sweet will, and make its auditor and his claims and humble wishes a mere passive bucket for itself. " Glorious islets, too—balmy, sunny islets—islets of the blest and the intelligible ! I have seen rise out of the haze, but they were few, and soon swallowed in the general element again. "Eloquent, artistically expressive words you always had; piercing radiances of a most subtle insight came at intervals; tones of noble pious sympathy, recognisable as pious, though strangely coloured, were never wanting long ; but, in general, you could not call this aimless, cloud-capt, cloud-based, lawlessly meandering human dis- course of reason by the name of ' excellent talk,' but only of ' surprising;' and were reminded bitterly of Hazlitt's account of it: ' Excellent talker, very—if you let him start from no premises, and come to no conclusion.' " It was by the brilliance and subtlety of those occasional flashes of thought which Carlyle designates as " islets of the blest and the intelligible,'' and by the profound suggestiveness of those frag- mentary writings which constitute all he ever executed of his colossal project of a system of Mental Philosophy in its widest meaning, that Coleridge exerted that influence over tho thinkers of the succeeding generation, which no one acquainted with its Intel- lectual history can question. 232. So, again, the artistic life of Mozart, from his infancy to hia A utomatic Activity:—Mozart. 2 71 death, presents a typical example of the spontaneous 01 automatic production of Musical conceptions ; which, under the skilful training he received from his father, developed themselves into creations of the very highest order, whose number, considering the early age at which he died (less than thirty-six years) is nothing less than marvellous. In fact, whether we estimate Mozart by the spon- taneity, the productiveness, or the variety of his inventive power, as attested by the multitude of those "things of beauty " he called into existence, every one of which will be " a joy for ever,"—or by that wonderful divining faculty which enabled him, as a boy, to anticipate almost everything that was then known in Music, and as a man, to advance, in every style he took up, far beyond his greatest predecessors in each department,—or by the permanent impress he has left upon his Art, not merely in furnishing the most perfect models for the study of those who especially cultivate it, but in elevating that general appreciation of the highest order of beauty, which only the works of a consummate Artist can call forth,—Mozart certainly stands alone among Musicians, and deserves to rank as a typical example of genius. Mozart, like Coleridge was a man whose Will was weak in proportion to the automatic activity of his mind; and it is probable that if he had not been under the guidance, in the first instance, of a judicious father, and afterwards of an excellent wife, to both of whom he had the good sense to submit himself, his career would have been comparatively inglorious. For his lively sensibility made him the sport of every kind of impulse, so that he could neither keep firm to a resolution, nor resist a temptation : and hence he would never of his own accord have subjected himself to the discipline which his father imposed upon him, and without which he could not have been anything else than a "musical prodigy ;" nor would he have had the motive which his conjugal affection supplied, for the steady application that was required for the elaboration of his greatest works. Hence his life becomes a most interesting study to the 15 272 Succession of Ideas. Psychologist, no less than to the Musician. Of the general features of his career, a sketch has already been given (§ 206) ; we shall now endeavour to trace-out the manner in which he worked ; and of this we fortunately have a pretty full account from himself, in a letter to a friend :—■ "You say you should like to know my way of composing, and what method I follow in writing works of some extent. I can really Bay no more on the subject than the following, for I myself know no more about it, and cannot account for it. When I am, as it were, completely myself, entirely alone, and of good cheer, say, travelling in a carriage, or walking after a good meal, or during the night when I cannot sleep; it is on such occasions that my ideas flow best and inost abundantly. Whence and how they come, I know not, nor can I force them. Those ideas that please me I retain in my memory, and am accustomed (as 1 have been told) to hum them to myself. If I continue in this way, it soon occurs to me how I may turn this or that morceau to account, bo as to to make a good dish of it, that is to say, agreeably to the rules of counterpoint, to the peculiarities of the various instruments, &c. "All this fires my soul, and, provided I am not disturbed, my subject enlarges itself, becomes methodised and defined, and the whole, though it be long, stands almost complete and finished in my mind, so that I can survey it like a fine picture, or a beautiful statue, at a glanoe. Nor do I hear in my imagination the parts successively, but I hear them, as it were, all at once {gleich alles zusammen). What a delight this is, I cannot tell! All this inventing, this pondering, takes place in a pleasing lively dream. Still the actual hearing of the tout ensemble is after all the best. What has been thus produced I do not easily forget, and this is perhaps the best gift I have my Divine Maker to thank for. " When I proceed to write down my ideas, I take out of the bag of my memory, if I may use that phrase, what has previously been collected into it in the way I have mentioned. For this reason, the fommitting to paper is done easily enough; for everything is, as I said before, already finished; and it rarely differs on paper from what it was in my imagination. At this occupation I can therefore suffer myself to be disturbed; for whatever may be going on around mo, I Automatic Activity :—Mozart. 273 Wribo and even talk, but only of fowls and geese, or of Gretol or Barbel or some such matters.* But why my productions take from my hand that particular form and style that makes them Mozartish, and different from the works of other composers, is probably owing to the same cause which renders my nose so, or so large, so aquiline, or in short, makes it Mozart's, and different from that of other people. For I really do not study or aim at any originality; I should in fact not be able to describe in what mine consists, though I think it quite natural that persons who have really an individual appearance of their own, are also differently organised from others, both externally and internally. At least I know that I have not constituted myself, either one way or the other."—(Holmes's Life of Mozart, p. 318.) An interesting pendant to this remarkable self-analysis is supplied by Mozart's answer to the question asked him by a lad of twelve * The story of the production of the Overture to "Don Giovanni" affords so admirable an illustration of the above description, that, though often told, it ought not to be omitted here: —On the very evening before the first performance of this Opera, not a note of the Overture had been written ; and Mozart was giving himself up to social enjoyment at the house of Dussek, for whose wife (a finished singer) he had been that day composing a highly scientific scena, peculiarly suited to her style. About midnight he retired to his apartment, desiring his wife to make him some punch, and to stay with him to keep him awake while he wrote. She accordingly began to tell him fairy tales and odd stories, which made him laugh till the tears came. The punch, however, occasioned such a drowsiness, that he could only go on while his wife was talking ; as soon as she ceased, he dropped asleep. The efforts which he made to keep himself awake, the continual alternation of sleep and watching, so fatigued him, that his wife persuaded him to take some rest, promising to awake him in an hour's time; but he slept so profoundly, that she suffered him to repose for two hours. At five in the morning she awoke him ; and by seven o'clock, the hour at which he had appointed the music-copiers to come to him, the Overture was finished. The commencement of the evening per- formance was delayed, because the copiers had not completed their work ; and the parts were brought into the orchestra with the notes still covered with the sand which had been used to dry up the ink.—Of course the Overture had to be per- formed without any rehearsal ; and Mr. Holmes thinks it not unlikely that this tour deforce was intended by Mozart as a compliment to the Prague Orchestra. It is clear that the Overture must have previously evolved itself in, all its com- pleteness in his creative imagination ; since the mere writing it down must have engrossed the whole of the time within which it was committed to paper. As a mere feat of Memory, its production was therefore most marvellous ; to say nothing of the transcendant merits of the work itself, which none but a Mozart could hare produced. 274 Succession of Ideas. years old, who already played the pianoforte very skilfully. "Herr Kapellmeister, I should very much like to compose something. How am I to begin?" " Pho-pho, " said Mozart, " you must wait." " You, " said the boy, " composed much earlier. " " But, " replied Mozart, " I asked nothing about it. If one has the spirit of a composer, one writes because or*e cannot help it."—What can be a better description of the exuberant automatic activity of his Musical faculty ? When he was " in the vein" for composition, it was difficult to tear him from his desk; and when he was in the mood to improvise upon the pianoforte, either alone or in the society of a friend, sitting down to the instrument in the evening, he commonly pursued the train of his musical thoughts till long after midnight. That, notwithstanding the exuberance of his own creative power, Mozart constantly disciplined it by the most sedulous study, and that he could, without being chargeable with imitation, assimilate (so to speak) into his own Musical constitution all that he found suitable in the works of others as pabulum for his genius, is one of its most re- markable features. " It is a very great error," he wrote to a friend, " to suppose that my art has become so exceedingly easy to me. I assure you there is scarcely any one who has worked at the study of composition as I have. You could hardly mention any famous composer, whose writings I have not diligently and repeatedly studied throughout." And, in this self-education, as Mr. Holmes remarks, " whatever of striking, new, or beautiful he met with in the works of others, left its impression on him; and he often reproduced these effects, not servilely, but mingling his own nature and feeling with them, in a manner not less surprising than delightful." Thus no musician more thoroughly appreciated, than did Mozart, the surpassing greatness, in his own particular walk, of Handel. "Handel," he said, "understands effects better than any of us; when he chooses, he strikes like a thunderbolt." Mozart's "addi- tional accompaniments" to the "Messiah" show how thoroughly impregnated he had become with the feeling which pervades that immortal work; so as to be able to fill up,—with the rich colouring of an instrumentation, and with the telling effects of harmonies, that Handel could not have devised,—the grand outlines traced by the Master's hand, in such a manner that none but a pedant could take exception to difference of style. Let any competent Automatic Activity:—Mozart. 275 listener compare the effect produced on his own Musical sense by that wonderful song, " The people that walked in darkness," aa accompanied with and without the wind-instrument parts added by Mozart; and he must acknowledge how admirably they carry out the " groping" sentiment of the air itself, which in Handel's score ia merely repeated in octaves by the stringed instruments. It would Beem as if Mozart had made this air (as it were) a part of himself, and that these accompaniments then evolved themselves in what was to hf'm its most natural form of complete expression. Only second to Mozart's creative genius, was his executive skill; which enabled him to render his own Musical ideas, and to expreas his own feelings, on the pianoforte, in a way which, by the judg- ment of his ablest contemporaries, it would be impossible even now to surpass. The testimony of Haydn, in particular, who was a frequent guest at the parties at which Mozart was wont to intro- duce his new compositions to his friends, and who constantly showed the most cordial appreciation of the genius of one whom less disinterested men depreciated as a dangerous rival, is singularly emphatic. "Mozart's playing," he said, "I can never forget." Doubtless, this executive skill was partly due to the early and excellent training he received from his father ; and was partly the result of the animating influence of the genius which thus found expression. But looking to the fact of no unfrequent occurrence in every department of invention, that genius has often to struggle for its expression, and looking also to the peculiar mobility of Mozart's physical constitution, which showed itself in a variety of ways, it can scarcely be doubted that his was a case in which there was that complete harmony between his bodily and his mental organisation, which enables each to minister in the highest degree to the requirements of the other.—If the self-discipline which Mozart so admirably exercised in the culture of his Musical gifts, had been carried into his Moral nature, so as to restrain the impulses of his ardent temperament within due bounds, and to prevent him from consuming the energy of his frail body in the 276 Succession of Ideas. pursuit of exhausting pleasures, the world might have profited by a still higher development of his genius, and a still larger bequest of treasures of pure and elevated enjoyment. 233. It may be well to contrast with these examples, two others drawn from the careers of men by whom inferior endowments were turned to their best account, under the direction of a steady Will. Coleridge's brother-in-law, Southey, was as honourably dis- tinguished by his strong sense of duty, and strict fidelity to his engagements and resolutions, as Coleridge himself was lamentably notorious for the reverse. Although few of Southey's poems may retain a lasting celebrity, yet his prose writings will always be models of excellence in composition; and he had his powers under such complete command, that he never failed (save from physical incapacity) to perform those promises which are too often made by men of genius " only to be broken," and never shrank from what he felt to be a task of disagreeable drudgery, when once he hc;d undertaken it. And it is specially worthy of note, that even hit poetic faculty seemed to be so far under his command, that he couM fix how many lines he should write per day, so as to complete a foam of a given length within a specified time. Though poetry of the highest eminence cannot be thus " made to order," few in South:y's day could have produced what would have equalled his, either in opulence of imagination, or in splendour and appropriate- ness of diction. " His mind," it has been said, " although a teeming, was not an inventive or creative one. It returned manifold the seed deposited in it, but communicated to it com- paratively little of any new nature or quality." What his poetry wanted, was the true vitality of the mens divinior; and this it was not in Southey's nature to impart. 231. The contrast between Haydn and Mozart, as regards both their artistic genius and their personal character, is scarcely less striking. Haydn's musical ability, like Mozart's, manifested itself in childhood ; but it received a far less complete training. Bein» Volitional Control:—Haydn. 277 early thrown, however, in a great degree upon his own resources, he displayed that steadiness of purpose which mainly contributed to his subsequent distinction, in acquiring from books, and from Buch chance instruction as he could obtain, the theoretical know- ledge which he felt that he needed for succeeding as a Composer. By giving a few lessons in music, and occasionally performing in the orchestra, he managed to supply himself with what, frugally husbanded, served to provide him with absolute necessaries, and to enable him to maintain a decent appearance; and having thus gradually acquired a reputation as an able Musician, at the age of twenty-nine (before attaining which Mozart had produced some of his master-pieces), he was appointed Maestro di Capella to Prince Esterhazy, in whose service he remained to the end of his long life of seventy-seven years. a Comfortably settled in the palace of Eisenstadt, in Hungary, enjoying in moderation his favourite diversions of hunting and fishing, and relieved from care for the future, Haydn there composed the long series of works in various styles which he produced before his visit to London at nearly sixty years of age; which visit was the immediate occasion of his bringing out his " Twelve Grand Symphonies," and indirectly (by the impression which his hearing of Handel's music made upon him) prompted the composition of the " Creation," which he produced in his sixty-fifth year. During the whole period of his residence with Prince Esterhazy, he may be said to have been edu- cating himself, under peculiar advantages, for those great works of his advanced life, on which his reputation now chiefly rests. He had a full and choice band living under the same roof with him, at hia command every hour in the day; he had only to order, and they were ready to try the effect of any piece, or even of any passage, which, quietly seated in his study, he might commit to paper. Thus at leisure he heard, corrected, and refined whatever he conceived; and never sent forth his compositions, until they were in a state to fear- lessly challenge criticism. There can be no question of Haydu's inferiority to Mozart in creative power; but the steadiness of his application to his art, 278 Succession of Ideas. and the advantage he possessed in being constantly able to test his productions by actual trial, enabled him ultimately to attain a place among the first of modern Musicians, which Mozart had reached at a bound. He did not possess enough of the emotional ter iperament to succeed In dramatic composition ; and his Operas have been long forgotten. But his forte lay in the development of musical ideas, and in the construction of elaborate Orchestral combinations; so that he is commonly regarded as "the father of modern orchestral music." As already pointed out (§ 206), however, Mozart is fully entitled to share in this distinction; his marvellous intuition having directly led him to anticipate many of those effects, which Haydn was engaged in elabor- ating by successive steps. It is worthy of note, as showing the different temperaments of these two illustrious contem- poraries, that while Mozart's musical ideas were almost always in free flow (§ 400)—their character changing with the mood in which he happened to be—those of Haydn seemed only to come when he set himself to compose, which he usually did at a fixed hour every day, in this respect strongly resembling Southey. b. It is related of him that, when he sat down to compose, he always dressed himself with the utmost care, had his hair nicely powdered, and put on his best suit. Frederick II. had given him a diamond ring; and Haydn declared that, if he happened to begin without it, he could not summon a single idea. He could write only on the finest paper; and was as particular in forming his notes, as if he had been engraving them on copper-plate. After all these minute pre- parations, he began by choosing the theme of his subject, and fixing r into what keys he wished to modulate it; and he varied, as it were, the action of his subject, by imagining to himself the incidents of some little adventure or romance.—Haydn had strong religious feeling; and when, in composing, he found his imagination at fault, or waa stopped by some difficulty which appeared insurmountable, he rose from the pianoforte and began to run over his rosary, and was ac- customed to say that he never found this method fail. Ideo-motor Action. 279 This last fact is a " pregnant instance" of the principle of action which we shall hereafter have to consider (Chap. XIII.);—that, namely, of the working of a mechanism beneath the consciousness, which, when once set going, runs on of itself; and which is more likely to evolve the desiderated result, when the conscious activity of tho mind is exerted in a direction altogether different. Section Z.—Ideo-Motor Action. 235. Although it has been usual to designate by the term volun- tary all those muscular movements which take-place as the result of mental operations, save when they are the expression of emotional states, yet a careful analysis of the sources from which many of even our ordinary actions proceed, will show that the Will has no direct participation in producing them ; and that they are, psycho- logically speaking, the direct manifestations of Ideational states excited to a certain measure of intensity, or, in physiological language, reflex actions of the Cerebrum. This mode of opera- tion has been already shown (§§ 94—111) not only to be fully conformable to the general plan of the activity of the Nervous system, but even to complete or fill-up a part of it which would otherwise be left void; and we shall find that it takes account of a great number of phenomena which had not previously been included under any general category, and which, when thus com- bined and generalized, form a most interesting and remarkable group, well deserving of attentive study.— It is, of course, when the Intellect is in a state of exalted (though it may be aberrant) activity, but when the directing power of the Will is suspended or weakened, that we should expect to see the most remarkable manifestations of this " reflex " power of the Cerebrum ; and such is the condition of the Somnambulist who acts his dreams (§ 492), and of the Biologized subject who acts his reverie (§ 451). In 23o Ideo-motor Action. each case, the mind is " possessed " by a%succession of Ideas, which may either be spontaneously evolved by its own operations, or may be directly suggested through the senses, or may be the products of associative action called forth by the promptings which it receives from without. In whatever mode the Ideas have been generated, it is the essential characteristic of these states, that the mind is entirely given-up to whatever may happen to be before it at the time : which consequently exerts an uncontrolled directing power over the actions, there being no antagonistic agency to keep it in check. 236. We may range under the same category all those actions performed by us in our ordinary course of life, which are rather the automatic expressions of the ideas that may be dominant in our minds at the time, than prompted by distinct volitional efforts (§ 228). Of this kind, the act of expressing the thoughts in Language, whether by speech or by writing, may be considered as a good example : for the attention may be so completely given-up to the choice of words and to the composition of the sentences, that the movements by which the words and sentences already conceived are uttered by the voice or traced on paper, no more partake of the truly Volitional character, than do those of our limbs when we walk through the streets in a state of abstraction (§ 16). And it is a curious evidence of the influence of Ideas, rather than of the agency of the Will, in producing them, that, as our conceptions are a little in advance of our speech or writing, it occasionally happens that we mis-pronounce or mis-spell a word, by introducing into it a letter or syllable of some other whose turn is shortly to come ; or, it may be, the whole of the anticipated word is substituted for the one which ought to have been expressed. Now it is obvious that there cculd be neither any consciously-formed intention of break- ing the regular sequence, nor any volitional effort to do so; and the result is evidently the automatic expression of the Idea repre- sented by the anticipated word, which interferes with the working Anticipation of Words in Dictation. 281 out of that which we have previously given it in charge to our automaton to execute.— An interesting example of this familiar phenomenon (which, like many other mental phenomena, has not attracted the notice it merits, simply because it is so familiar) is given us by the amanuensis to whom Sir Walter Scctt dictated his " Life vf Napoleon Buonaparte " :— a. " His thoughts flowed easily and felicitously, without any difficulty to lay hold of them or to find appropriate language ; which was evident by the absence of all solicitude {miseria cogitandi) from his countenance. He sat in his chair, from which he rose now and then, took a volume from the book-case, consulted it, and restored it to the shelf,—all without intermission in the current of ideas, which con- tinued to be delivered with no less readiness than if his mind had been wholly occupied with the words he was uttering. It soon became apparent to me, however, that he was carrying on two distinct trains of thought, one of which was already arranged, and in the act of being spoken, while at the same time he was in advance, considering what was afterwards to be said. This I discovered by his sometimes introducing a word which was wholly out of place—entertained in- stead of denied, for example,—but which I presently found to belong to the next sentence, perhaps, four or five lines further on, which he had been preparing at the very moment that he gave me the words of the one that preceded it."—{Life of Sir Walter Scott, Chap. lxxiii.) 237. It is the dominant Idea, then, which really determines these movements, the Will simply permitting them; and the more com- pletely the volitional power is directed to other objects, the more completely automatic are the actions of this class. They may, indeed, come to be performed even without the consciousness, or at least without the remembered consciousness, of the agent; as we see in the case of those who have the habit of "thinking aloud," and who are subsequently quite surprised on learning what they have uttered. The one-sided conversation of some persons, who are far more attentive to their own trains of thought, than they are to what may be expressed by others, and who are 282 Ideo-motor Action. allowed to proceed with little or no interruption, is often a sort of "thinking aloud."—This was pre-eminently the habit of Cole- ridge, whose whole life was little else than a waking dream, and whose usual talk has been shown to have been the outpouring of his "dominant ideas." (See § 231.)—The following case, recently communicated to the Writer, shows how strongly the mode of expression of our ideas is influenced by habit; and how, after the chain would seem to have been completely broken, it may come to renew itself when the circumstances recur under which it had been formed :— b. A Military Officer, who had seen much hard service at a time when a command was scarcely ever given without the accompaniment of an oath, and who had thus acquired the habit of continual swearing, determined, on retiring into private life, to do his best to forego thia practice; and by keeping a constant check upon himself, with the assist- ance of the friendly monitions of others, he entirely succeeded. After the lapse of many years, however, he found himself called upon to perform Borne Military duty ; and, in the discharge of it, he used much of the bad language to which he had formerly accustomed himself. A friend who happened to notice this, having afterwards expressed his regret that he should have relapsed into his old habit of swearing, the Officer assured him (and he was a man whose word could be implicitly relied on) that he ivas not at the time in the least degree conscious of uttering an oath, and that he had not the slightest recollection of having done so. 238. Much attention has recently been given to a set of Involun tary movements, which, however diverse the circumstances under which they occur, all have their source in one and the same mental condition,—that of expectant attention :—the whole Mind being "possessed" with the idea that a certain action will take place, and being eagerly directed (generally with more or less of emo- tional excitement) towards the indications of its occurrence. This is a very curious subject of inquiry, and one on which adequate scrutiny has scarcely yet been bestowed ; the phenomena Expectant A ttention:—Suspended Buttons. 283 which are referable to the principle of action here enunciated, having been very commonly explained by the agency of some other hypothetical Force.—Thus, if a button or ring be suspended from the end of the finger or thumb, in such a position that, when slightly oscillating, it shall strike against a glass tumbler, it has been affirmed by many who have made the experiment, that the button continues to swing with great regularity, striking the glass at tolerably-regular intervals, until it has sounded the hour of the day, after which it ceases for a time to swing far enough to make another stroke. This certainly does como to pass, in many in- stances, without any intention on the part of the performer ; who may be really doing all in his power to keep his hand perfectly stationary. Now it is impossible, by any voluntary effort, to keep the hand absolutely still, for any length of time, in the position required; an involuntary tremulousness is always observable in the suspended body; and if the attention be fixed upon the part, with the expectation that the vibrations will take a determinate direction, they are very likely to do so.*—Their persistence in this direction, however, only takes place so long as they are guided by the visual sensations; a fact which at once points to the real spring of their performance. When the performer is impressed with the conviction that the hour will be thus indicated, the result is very likely to happen ; and when it has once occurred, his confidence is sufficiently established to make its recurrence a matter of tolerable certainty. On the other hand, the experiment seldom succeeds with sceptical subjects; the " expectant idea" not having in them the requisite potency. That it is through the Mind that these movements are regulated, however involuntarily, appears evident from these two considerations :—first, that if the performer be * This was long since pointed out by M. Chevreul, who investigated the subject in a truly philosophic spirit. See his letter to M. Ampere, in the " Revue des Deux-Mondes," Mai 1833; and his more recent treatise "De la Baguette Divinatoire, du Pendule dit Explorateur, et des Tables Tournantes," Paris, 1854. 284 Ideo-motor Action. entirely ignorant of the hour, the strokes on the glass do not indicate its number, except by a casual coincidence ;—and second, that the division of the entire period of the earth's rotation into twenty-four hours, and the very nomenclature of these hours, being entirely arbitrary and conventional, no other modus operandi can be imagined. For example, the button which strikes eleven at night in London, should strike twenty-three in Italy, where (as in the astronomer's Observatory) the cycle of hours is continued through the whole twenty-four; and if an Act of Parliament were to introduce the Italian horary arrangement into this country, all the swinging buttons in her Majesty's dominions would have to add twelve to their number of post- meridiem strokes; all which would doubtless come to pass, if the experimenters' expectation of the result were sufficiently strong. These phenomena, in which no hypothetical "odylic" or other " occult" agency can be reasonably supposed to operate, are here alluded-to only for the sake of illustrating those next to be described, which have been imagined to prove the existence of a new Force in Nature. 239. If " a fragment of anything, of any shape," be suspended from the end of the fore-finger or thumb, and the Attention be intently fixed upon it, regular oscillations will be frequently seen to take place in it; and if changes of various kinds be made in the conditions of the experiment, corresponding changes in the direc- tion of the movements will very commonly follow. a. The public mind was directed to these facts, about the year 1850, by Dr. Herbert Mayo; who, having brought himself to accept Baron Reichenbach's "Odyle" as a "new force in Nature," accepted these oscillations as a manifestation of it, and gave to this suspended body the designation of " odometer." After varying hia experiments in a great variety of modes. Dr. Mayo came to the conclusion that the direction and extent of the oscillations were capable of being altered, either by a change in the nature of the substances placsd beneath the odometer, or by the contact of the Expectant A ttention:—Suspended Buttons. 285 hand of a person of the opposite sex, or even of the experimenter'a other hand, with that from which the odometer was suspended, or by various other changes of the like nature. And he gradually reduced his results to a series of definite Laws, to which he seems to have imagined them to be as amenable, as are the motions of the heavenly bodies to the law of Gravitation.—{The Truths con- tained in Popular Superstitions, 3rd edition, 1851, Letter xil.) 6. Other observers, however, who were induced by Dr. Mayo's earlier experiments to take-up the subject, and who worked it out with like perseverance and good faith, framed a very different code ; so that it at once became apparent to those who knew the influence which "expectant attention" exerts in determining involuntary muscular movements, that this was only another case of the same kind ; and that the cause of the change of direction in each case lay in the Idea that some such change would result from a certain variation in the conditions of the experiment. Hence the general conclusions which each experimenter works out for himself, so far from being entitled to rank as " laws of Odylic force," are merely expressions of what has been passing (though perhaps almost unconsciously to himself) in his oivn mind.—The truth of this rationale was proved by the results of a few very simple variations in the conditions of the experiment. When it was tried upon new subjects, who were entirely devoid of any expectant idea of their own, and who received no intimation, by word, sign, or look, of what was anticipated by others, the results were found to have no uniformity whatever. And even those who had previously been most successful in this line of performance, found all their success vanish, from the moment that they withdrew their eyes from the oscil- lating body, its movements thenceforth presenting no regularity whatever.—Thus it became obvious that the definite direction which the oscillations previously possessed, was due, not to any Magnetic, Electric, or Odylic force of which the operator was the medium, but to the influence directly exercised by his Ideas over his muscles, i inder the guidance of his visual sense. 240. Now this will occur, notwithstanding the strong Volitional determination of the experimenter to maintain a complete immobility in the suspending finger. And it is very easily proved that, as 286 Ideo-motor Action. in the preceding case, the movements are guided by his Visual sensations, and that the impulse to them is entirely derived from his expectation of a given result. For if he be ignorant of the change which is made in the conditions of the experiment, and should expect or guess something different from that which really exists, the movement will be in accordance with his Idea, not with the reality :— a. Rather more than twenty years ago, when no inconsiderable portion of the British public was amusing itself with swinging buttons and rings from its finger-ends, the attention of Scientific men was invited by Mr. Rutter of Brighton to the fact, that a very definite series of movements of a like kind was exhibited by a ball suspended from a metallic frame which was itself considered a fixture, when the finger was kept for a short time in contact with it; and that these movements varied in direction and intensity, according aa the operator touched other individuals with his disengaged hand, laid hold with it of bodies of various kinds, or altered his condition in various other modes. These experiments appeared to many persons of great general intelligence, to indicate some new and mysterious agency not hitherto recognised in our philosophy; for even among those who might be disposed to attribute the oscillations of a button suspended from the finger, to the involuntary move- ments of the hand itself, some were slow to believe that the simple contact of the finger with a frame of solid metal could produce the like vibrations through such a medium. Yet there were certain troublesome sceptics, who persisted in asserting that this was but pro another case of "expectant attention;" and such it was soon proved to be. b. The mode in which the denouement took place, however, was not a little curious. Among Mr. Putter's disciples was a Homoeopathic Physician at Brighton, Dr. H. Madden; who conceived the notable idea of testing the value of the indications of the Magnetometer (as it was called), by questioning it as to the characters of his remedies, in regard to which he was of course himself" possessed" with certain foregone conclusions. Globules in hand, therefore, he consulted ita oscillations, and found that they corresponded exactly with his idea of what they ought to be; a medicine of one class producing longi- Expectant Attention :—Rutters Magnetometer. 287 tudinal movements, which were at once exchanged for transversa when a medicine of opposite virtues was substituted for it. In this way Dr. Madden was systematically going through the whole Homoeopathic Pharmacopoeia; when circumstances led him to investi- gate the subject de novo, with a precaution which had never occurred tc him as requisite in the first instance, but of which the importance is obvious to every one who holds the roal clue to the mystery ;— namely, that he should not know what were the substances on which he was experimenting, the globules being placed in his hand by another party, who should give him no indication whatever of their nature. From the moment that he began to work upon this plan, the whole aspect of affairs was altered. The results ceased altogether to present any constancy. Oscillations at one time transverse, at other times longitudinal, were produced by the very same globules ; whilst remedies of the most opposite kinds frequently gave no sign of difference. And thus, in a very short time, Dr. Madden was led to the conviction, which he avowed with a candour that was very creditable to him, that the whole system which he had built-up had no better foundation than his own anticipation of what the results should be.—{Lancet, Nov. 15, 1851.) 241. This case—which seems so easily disposed of by the phrase " all humbug,'' or " all imagination,"—is, in truth, neither the one nor the other; but a siugularly complete and satisfactory example of the general principle, that, in certain individuals, and in a certain state of mental concentration, the expectation of a result is sufficient to determine,—without any voluntary effort, and even in opposition to the Will (for this may be honestly exerted in the attempt to keep the hand perfectly unmoved),—the Muscular movements by which it is produced. It is obvious, too, that the unconscious rhythmical motion of the hand constituted the vera ciusa of the vibrations of the magnetometer : a fact which will not BUiprise any one who knows how difficult it is to prevent the tremors of a Telescope or a Microscope, by the most careful con- struction of its supporting frame-work; or who bears in mind that the form of the great speculum of Lord Rosse's telescope, weighing 288 Ideo-motor Action. five tons, having a thickness of eight inches, and composed of the hardest known combination of metals, is perceptibly altered (as is demonstrated by the immediate impairment of the distinctness of its reflection) by a moderate pressure of the hand against its back. Moreover, as Dr. Madden justly remarked, the arrangement of Mr. Rutter's apparatus was such as to admit of the greatest sensible effect being produced by the smallest amount of imparted motion ; and every modification of it which increased its immo- bility, decreased in the same proportion its apparent sensibility to the so-called "magnetic currents." It was further ascertained that no definite vibrations took place, unless the pendulum was watched; showing that, as in the preceding cases, the guidance of the visual sense was required to determine their direction. It is a curious example, however, of the hold which the belief in the "occult" has upon the Imagination, that, notwithstanding the complete proof thus given of the dependence of these vibrations upon the unconscious movements of the operator himself, the vague hypothesis of " human electricity " long continued to be entertained by Mr. Rutter and his disciples ; just as the Spiri- tualists of the present day will not accept Faraday's demonstration (§ 245) that tables are really "turned" and "tilted" by the pressure of the hands placed on them,—refusing to submit the question to the test of Physical experiment, because (as they say) it cannot negative their own conviction that they are exerting no pressure whatever. 242. It is clearly on the very same Physiological principle, that we are to explain the mysterious phenomena of the " Divining rod ; " which have been accepted as true, or rejected as altogether fabulous, according to the previous habits of thought of those who have given their attention to the subject.—That the end of a hazel-fork, whose limbs are grasped firmly in the hands of a person whose good faith can scarcely be doubted, frequently points upwards or downwards without any intentional direction on his own Expectant Attention :—Divining-Rod. 289 part, and often thus moves when there is metal or water beneath the surface of the ground at or near the spot, is a fact which is vouched-for by such testimony that we have scarcely a right to reject it; and when we come to examine into the conditions of the occurrence, we shall find that they are such as justify us in attributing it to a state of expectant attention, which (as we have Been) is fully competent tc induce muscular movement. For,' in the first place, as not above one individual in forty, even in the localities where the virtues of the divining-rod are still held as an article of faith, is found to succeed in the performance of this experiment, it is obvious that the agency which produces the deflection—whatever be its nature—must operate by affecting the holder of the rod, and not by attracting or repelling the rod itself. And when experiments are carefully made with the view of deter- mining the nature of this agency, they are found to indicate most clearly that the state of expectant attention, induced by the anticipation of certain results, is fully competent to produce them. For the mere act of holding the rod for some time in the required position, and of attending to its indications, is sufficient to pro- duce a tendency to spasmodic contraction in the grasping muscles, notwithstanding a strong effort of the Will to the contrary; and when, by such contractions, the limbs of the fork are made to approximate-towards or to separate-from each other, the point of the fork will be caused to move either upwards or downwards, according to the position in which it is held. If, when the muscles havo this tendency to contract, occasioned by their continued restraint in one position, the mind be possessed with the expecta- tion that a certain movement will ensue, that movement will actually take-place, even though a strong effort may be made by the Will to prevent any change in the condition of themuscles. And a sufficient ground for such expectation exists, on the part of thone who are "possessed " by the idea of the peculiar powers of the divining-rod. in the belief, or even in the surmise, that water or 290 Ideo-motor Action. metal may lie beneath particular points of the surface over which they pass. a. Thus Dr. H. Mayo, notwithstanding his belief in the existence of an " Od-force" governing the movements of thedivining-rcd, admitted that he found in the course of his experiments, that when hia " diviner" knew which way he expected the fork to move, it invariably answered his expectations; but when he had the man blindfolded, the results were uncertain and contradictory. Hence he became certain that several of those in whose hands the divining- rod moves, set it in motion, and direct its motion (however unin- tentionally and unconsciously) by the pressure of their fingers, and by carrying their hands near-to or apart-from each other.—{Op- cit., Letter I.) 6. The following statement of the results obtained by a very intelli- gent friend of the Writer, who took up the inquiry some yc»rs ago, with a strong prepossession (derived from the assurances of men of high scientific note) in favour of the reality of the supposed Influence, but yet with a desire to investigate the whole matter carefully and philosophically for himself, will serve as a complete illustration of the doctrine enunciated above:—Having duly provided himself with a hazel-fork, he set out upon a survey of the neighbourhood in which he happened to be staying on a visit; this district was one known to bo traversed by Mineral Veins, with the direction of some of which he was acquainted. With his "divining-rod" in his hand, and with his attention closely fixed upon his instrument of research, he walked forth upon his experimental tour; and it was not long before, to his great satisfaction, he observed the point of the fork to be in motion, at the very spot where he knew that he was crossing a metallic lode. For many less cautious investigators, this would have been enough ; but it served only to satisfy this gentleman that he was a favourable subject for the trial, and to stimulate him to further inquiry. Pro- ceeding in his walk, and still holding his fork secundum artem, he frequently noticed its point in motion, and made a record of the localities in which this occurred. He repeated these trials on several consecutive days, until he had pretty thoroughly examined the neighbourhood, going over some parts of it several times. When he came to compare and analyse the results, he found that there was by Expectant Attention :—Divining Rod. 291 no means a satisfactory accordance amongst them ; for there were many spots over which the rod had moved on one occasion, at which it had been obstinately stationary on others, and vice versa ; so that the constancy of a physical agency seemed altogether wanting. Further, he found that whilst some of the spots over which the rod had moved, were those known to be traversed by Mineral Veins, there were many others in which its indications had been no less positive, bat in which those familiar with the Mining Geology of the neigh- bourhood were well assured that no veins existed. On the other hand, the rod had remained motionless at many points where it ought to have moved, if its direction had been affected by any kind of terrestial emanation.—These facts led the experimenter to a strong suspicion that the cause existed in himself alone; and by carrying out his experiments still further, he ascertained that he could not hold the fork in his hand for many minutes consecutively, concentrating his attention fixedly upon it, without an alteration in the direction of its point, in consequence of an involuntary though almost imper- ceptible movement of his hands; so that in the greater number of instances in which the rod exhibited motion, the phenomenon was clearly attributable to this cause; and it was a matter of pure accident whether the movement took place over a Mineral Vein, or over a blank spot. But further, he ascertained on a comparison of hia results, that the movement took-place more frequently where he knew or suspected the existence of mineral veins, than in other situations ; and thus he came, without any knowledge of the theory of expectant attention, to the practical conclusion that the motions of the Rod were produced by his own Muscles, and that their actions were in great degree regulated automatically by the Ideas which possessed his mind. The same instrument appears to have been used, even from a very early period, by those who were supposed to possess " a Bpirit of divination," for the purpose of giving replies to questions by its movements, precisely after the fashion of the "talking tables" of our own day ; the hands of the operators (where they really believed in their power, and were not impostors) being automati- cally impelled to execute the appropriate movements of the rod, r 9 2 /°7 is the letter or figure they expect, when the pointer comes to it. Still more is this likely to be the case, when the questioner is not on his guard against this source of fallacy ; so that, unless a screen be interposed between the "medium" and the person to whom the answer is known, there is no proof whatever of its being derived from any ether source than his mind. This source of fallacy was very early found out by a sagacious observer, when " spirit rapping" was first introduced into this country by Mrs. Hayden:— a. Mr. G. H. Lewes, having formed his own conclusions on the matter, from the accounts he had heard of Mrs. Hayden's per- formances from those who had witnessed them, took an opportunity of personally testing their correctness, with the most satisfactory result. He considered that Mrs. Hayden probably derived her indi- cations as to the times at which to "rap," from some involuntary sign given by the questioner, when his pointer had arrived at the letter which should form the next component of the expected answer; this sign being either an unusual delay in passing to the next letter, or some slight look or gesture which would be perceived by an observer habitually on the watch for such indications. Accordingly, by purposely giving such indications, he caused Mrs. Hayden to rap out answers of the most absurdly erroneous character, to a series of questions which he had previously written down, and which he had also communicated to another member of the party, for the sake of negativing any subsequent charge of unfairness that might be raised against him; the only true reply being the one given to the final question—"Is Mrs. Hayden an impostor?" to which the answer was given by unhesitating raps, as hia pointer came upon the letters Y, E, S. b. The truth of this view of the case was soon confirmed by the results of many similar experiments; and a long series of ludicrous replies could be given, which were spelled-out on various occasions bj the direction of waggish questioners. It thus became clear that the raps were made by the "medium" herself (it having been proved that the sounds can be produced by a movement in the foot, which shall not be perceptible even to those who are watching it), 308 Ideo-motor Action. and that she derived her indications from the promptings supplied by the questioners themselves, however unintentionally and even unconsciously on their own pirts. And this conclusion was fully borne out by a comparison of the conditions under which Mrs. Hayden waa most successful, with those under which her failures (for many failures there were) took place. It was uniformly found that those whose questions had been most accurately and completely answered, were persons of excitable temperament and demonstrative habits, who were accustomed to signify more or less of what was passing in ^heir minds by the automatic movements of gesture, expression, &c. On the other hand, those to whom "the spirits" would give no information, were persons of comparatively imperturbable nature, possessing considerable command over their muscles, and habitually yielding very little to those influences which so strongly manifest themselves in individuals of the opposite temperament. And on one occasion, an eminent man of science, who belongs to the former category, but also possesses a very strong will,—having been at first much surprised at the accuracy of the replies to certain questions which he had put (not being at that time cognizant of the rationale of the operation), but having observed that none could be furnished to a gentleman whose temperament was of the opposite kind,—made a Becond trial, with the strong determination to prevent any indication escaping him of the times at which he expected the "raps;" which trial was as complete a failure on Mrs. Hayden's part, as the first had been a success. 255. The following is a more recent case of the same kind, relating to another American professional " medium," whose gifts (like those of Mrs. Hayden) chiefly lay in playing on the credulity of such as lent themselves to his clever deceptions :— a. " We were requested by a lady who had known Mr. Foster in America, to accompany her and her son-in-law (an eminent London Physician) on a visit to Mr. Foster, who had arrived in London only a few days previously. We were not introduced to him by name, and we do not think that he could have had any opportunity of know- ing our person. Nevertheless, he not only answered, in a variety of modes, the questions we put to him respecting the time and cause of the death of several of our departed friends and relatives, whose names Unconscious Movements of Expression. We had written down on slips of paper which had been folded-up and crumpled into pellets before being placed in his hands; but he brought out names and dates correctly, in large red letters, on hia bare arm, the redness being produced by the turgescence of the minute vessels of the skin, and passing away after a few minutes, like a blush. We must own to have been strongly impressed at the time by thii performance ; but on subsequently thinking it over, we could see that Mr. Foster's divining power was probably derived from hia having acquired the faculty of interpreting the movements of the top of a pen or pencil., though the point and what waa written by it waa hid from his sight, with the aid of an observing power sharpened by practice,* which enabled him to guide his own movements by the indications unconsciously given by ourselves of the answers we expected. For though we were fully armed with the knowledge which had been acquired of the source from which Mrs. Hayden drew her inspiration, and did our utmost to repress every sign of anticipation, we came, on reflection, to an assured conviction that Mr. Foster had been keen- sighted enough to detect such signs, notwithstanding our attempt to baffle him. For, having asked him the month of the death of a friend, whose name had previously appeared in red letters on his arm, and the year of whose death had also been correctly indicated in another way, he desired us to take up the alphabet-card and to point to the successive letters. This we did, as we believed, with pendulum- like regularity; nevertheless, distinct raps were heard at the letters j, v. When, however, on the next repetition, we came to l, m, n, Mr. Foster was obviously baffled. He directed us to " try back" two or three times, and at last confessed that he could not certainly tell whether the month was June or July. The secret of this was, that we did not ourselves recollect. b. "Wishing to clear up the matter further, we called on Mr. Foster, revealed ourselves to him in propria persona, and asked him if he would object to meet a few scientific investigators, who should be allowed to subject his powers to fair tests. As he professed hia readiness to do so, we brought together such a meeting at our own house; and previously to Mr. Foster's arrival, we explained to our friends the arrangements we proposed. One of these was, that one * To what a pitch of keenness and rapidity this discerning power may b« brought by the special education of it has been already shown (§ 185). 310 Ideo-moto? Action. of the party should sit outside the " circle," and should devote himself to observing and recording all that passed, without taking any part whatever in the performance. Another was, that instead of writing down names on slips of paper, whilst sitting at the table within Mr. Foster's view, we should write them at a side-table, with our backs turned to him. On explaining these arrangements to Mr. Foster, he immediately said that the first could not be permitted, for that every person present must form part of the circle. To the second he made no objection. After handing him our slips of paper carefully folded-up, we took our seats at the table, and waited for the announce- ment of spiritual visitors. The only one, however, who presented himself during an hour's siance, was the spirit of our own old master, whose name Mr. Foster might very readily have learned previously, but about whom he could give no particulars whatever. Xot one of the names written on the papers was revealed. c. "The patience of our friends being exhausted, they took their leave; but as Mr. Foster's carriage had been ordered for a later hour, we requested him to sit down again with the members of our own family. 'Now,' we said, ' that these incredulous philosophers are gone, perhaps the spirits will favour us with a visit.' We purposely fol- lowed his lead, as on our first interview, and everything went on aa successfully as on that occasion; until, whilst the name of a relative we had recently lost waa being spelled out on our alphabet-card, the raps suddenly ceased on the interposition of a large music-book, which was set-up at a preconcerted signal so as to hide the top as well as the bottom of our pointer from Mr. Foster's eyes.—Nothing could more conclusively prove that Mr. Foster's knowledge was derived from observation of the movements of the pointer, although he could only see the portion of it not hidden by the card, which was so held as to conceal the lower part of it; and nothing could be a better illustra- tion of the principle of ' unconscious ideo-motor action,' than the fact, that whilst we were most carefully abstaining from any pause or look from which he might derive guidance, we had enabled him to divine the answer we expected.—The trick by which the red letters were produced was discovered by the inquiries of our medical friends."—{Quarterly Review, October, 1871, p. 332) 256. It is further asserted, however, that the tables or planchettea Unconscious Muscular Movement. 311 often give true answers to questions proposed to them as to matters of fact, though none of the parties present may have any knowledge of what the answers should be; but this, if it bo really so, is not only far from being opposed to the Physiological doctrines here advanced, but affords a curious illustration and extension of them. For, as there is no doubt that impressions of which we were once conscious, though we have entirely lost our recollection of them, may direct our trains of thought in Delirium and Dreaming, or may even, as in Somnambulism, govern our actions; so does it seem quite reasonable to attribute the move- ments by which the table gives its answers, to impressions left by past ideas upon the Cerebrum, which may express themselves through the muscular system, without any consciousness of their existence on the part of the operator (§ 425). 257. To this same category are doubtless to be referred a large number of those actions of Mesmeric " subjects," which have been considered by some as most unequivocal indications of the existence of an agency sui generis, whilst by others they have been regarded as the results of intentional deception. Many of them are of a kind which the Will could not feign, being violent convulsive movements, such as no voluntary effort could produce : but the Mesmeric "subject" being previously "possessed" with the expectation that certain results will follow certain actions (as, for instance, that convulsive movements will be brought on by touching a piece of " mesmerized" metal), and the whole nervous power being concentrated, as it were, upon the performance, the movements follow when the "subject" believes the conditions to have been fulfilled, whether they have been or not (\ 518).—These facts were most completely established by the Commission appointed to investigate the pretensions of Mesmer himself: and whilst they demonstrate the unreality of the supposed "mesmeric" influence (so far, at least, as this class of phenomena is concerned), they also prove the position here contended for; namely, the 312 Ideo-motor Action. sufficiency of the state of expectant attention, in those whose Minds can be completely " possessed " by it, to produce effects of the same nature with those which are induced in Hysterical sub- jects by Emotional excitement (§ 270). 258. Under the same head may be ranked a variety of still more aberrant actions, bordering on Insanity, of which the Histoiy of Mankind in successive ages furnishes us with abundant examples :— what is common to all being the entire " possession" of those who perform them by some strongly-excited dominant idea, the intensity of which blinds the Common Sense and subjugates the Will, so that it expresses itself in bodily action without the least restraint. The notion may, or may not, be in itself an absurd one. It may be confined to a single individual, or it may spread epidemically through a multitude. It may be one that interests the feelings, or it may be (though seldom) of a nature purely intellectual. The wild but transient vagaries of religious enthusiasm in all ages,—as shown in the Pythonic inspiration of the Delphic priestesses; the ecstatic revelations of Catholic and Protestant visionaries; the Flagellant processions of the 13th and 14th centuries; the Preaching epidemic among the Hugue- nots in France, and more recently iu Lutheran Sweden ; the strange performances of the " convulsionnaires " of St. Medard, which have been since almost paralleled at " revivals " and " camp-meetings ;" the Dancing Mania of the Middle Ages, the Tarentism of southern Italy, the Tigretier of Abyssinia, and the Leaping-ague of Scotland in later times,*—are all, like the " table-turning " and "table-talking" epidemic, which spread through almost the whole civilized world in 1852-3, to be ranged under the same category. 259. The following account given by Dr. Hecker of the prim * On the greater number of the foregoing subjects, much curious information rill be found in Dr. Hecker's account of the " Dancing Mania," forming part of his Treatise " On the Epidemics of the Middle Ages," translated for the Syden- ham Society by Dr. Babington. Dancing Mania. 313 cipal features of the Danciug Mania which spread through a large part of Middle Europe in the 14th and 15th centuries, will serve to illustrate those forms of ideo-motor action which are intensified by trnolional excitement :— • a, ' In the year 1374, assemblages of men and women were seen at A.ix-la-Chapelle, who had come out of Germany, and who, united by one common delusion, exhibited to the public, both in the streets and in the churches, the following strange spectacle:—They formed circles hand in hand, and appearing to have lost all control over their senses, continued dancing, regardless of the bystanders, for hours together, in wild delirium, until at length they fell to the ground in a state of exhaustion. They then complained of extreme oppression, and groaned as if in the agonies of death, until they were swathed in clothes bound tightly round their waists; upon which they again recovered, and remained free from complaint until the next attack. This practice of swathing was resorted to, on account of the tympany which followed these spasmodic ravings; but the bystanders frequently relieved patients in a less artificial manner, by thumping and trampling upon the parts affected. While dancing they neither saw nor heard, being insensible to external impressions through the senses; but were haunted by visions, their fancies conjuring up spirits, whose names they shrieked out; and some of them afterwards asserted that they felt as if they had been immersed in a stream of blood, which obliged them to leap so high. Others, during the paroxysm, saw the heavena open, and the Saviour enthroned with the Virgin Mary ; according aa the religious notions of the age were strangely and variously reflected in their imaginations. "Where the disease was completely developed, the attack com- menced with epileptic convulsions. Those affected fell to the ground senseless, panting and labouring for breath. They foamed at the mouth, and suddenly springing up began their dance amidst strange contortions.—A few months after this dancing malady had made its appearance at Aix-la-Chapelle, it broke out at Cologne, where the number of those possessed amounted to more than five hundred ; and about the same time at Metz, the streets of which place are said to have been filled with eleven hundred dancers. Peasants left their plougha, mechanics their workshops, housewives their domestic 314 Ideo-motor Action. duties, to joiu the wild revels ; and this rich commercial city became the scene of the most ruinous disorder. "The St. Vitus's dance attacked people of all stations, especially those who led a sedentary life, such aa shoemakers and tailors; but even the most robust peasants abandoned their labours in their fields, as if they were possessed by evil spirits; and those affected were seen assembling indiscriminately, from time to time, at certain appointed places, and, unless prevented by the lookers-on, continued to dance without intermission, until their very last breath waa expended. Their fury and extravagance of demeanour so completely deprived them of their senses, that many of them dashed their brains out against the walla and corners of buildings, or rushed headlong into rapid rivers, where they found a watery grave. Roaring and foaming as they were, the bystanders could only succeed in restrain- ing them by placing benches and chairs in their way, so that, by the high leaps they were thus tempted to take, their strength might be exhausted. As soon as this was the case, they fell, as it were, lifeless to the ground, and, by very slow degrees, recovered their strength. Many there were, who, even with all this exertion, had not expended the violence of the tempest which raged within them ; but awoke with newly revived powers, and again and again mixed with the crowd of dancers; until at length the violent excitement of their disordered nerves waa allayed by the great involuntary exertion of their limba; and the mental disorder was calmed by the exhaustion of the body. The cure effected by these stormy attacks was in many casea so perfect, that some patients returned to the factory or the plough, as if nothing had happened. Others, on the contrary, paid the penalty of their folly by so total a loss of power, that they could not regain their former health, even by the employ- ment of the most strengthening remedies."—{Epidemics of the Middle Ages, pp. 87-104.) In this case we see a notable manifestation of the tendency to imitation, which is, in fact, the result of the " hold " taken of the Mind by an idea suggested to it (§ 550); that hold being the stronger, in proportion to the want of other sources of healthful activity, as in the two following cases related by Zimmerman :— b. A Nun, in a very large convent in France, began to mew like a Effects of Imitative Tendency. 315 cat; shortly afterwards other nuns also mewed. At last all the nuna begin to mew together every day at a certain time and continued mewing for several hours together. This daily cat-concert continued, until the nuns were informed that a company of soldiers was placed by the police before the entrance of the convent, and that the soldiers wore provided with rods with which they would whip the nuns until they promised not to mew any more. c. In the loth Century, a Nun in a German nunnery fell to biting all her companions. In the course of a short time, all the nuns of this convent began biting each other. The news of this infatuation among the nuns soon spread, and excited the same elsewhere; the biting mania passing from convent to convent through a great part of Germany. It afterwards visited the nunneries of Holland, and even spread as far as Rome.—{On Solitude, Vol. ii). Such " dominant ideas," like emotions, very commonly decline in intensity, when they expend thoir force in action (§ 265), and the Mind spontaneously returns to its previous condition : and thus it is that we generally find these epidemic delusions passing-away of themselves, without any ostensible cause for their cessation. Some- times, however, such an Idea may continue to exert a dominant influence over the whole of life ; and if the conduct which it dictates should pass the bounds of enthusiasm or eccentricity, we say that the individual is the subject of Monomania.—The nature of this state will be more fully considered hereafter (§ 559). CHAPTER VII. OF TUB EMOTIONS. 260. Although, as we have seen (§§ 189, 190), there are various forms of Emotional sensibility which are directly called into activity by Sense-perceptions, yet those Emotional states of Mind which directly or indirectly determine a great part of our conduct, belong to the level of the Ideational consciousness ; being, in fact, the result of the attachment of the feelings of pleasure and pain, and of other forms of emotional sensibility, to certain classes of ideas. Thus the Cerebrum and the Sensorium would seem jointly concerned in their production; for whilst the Cerebral hemi- spheres furnish the ideational part of the material, the Sensory ganglia not only give us the consciousness of their result, but invest that result with the peculiar feeling which renders it capable of actively influencing our conduct as a motive power. This we see clearly, when the Emotional state takes the form of a true desire ; for when this is felt, even as regards the gratification of a bodily appetite, it involves the existence of an idea of the object of desire ; but it is only when this idea is associated with the contempla- tion of enjoyment in the act to which it relates, or of discom- fort in the abstinence from that act, that it becomes an impelling force towards the performance of it.—All the higher forms of Emotional consciousness may be decomposed (as it seems to the Writer) in a similar manner. Thus, Benevolence is the pleasur- able contemplation of the happiness or welfare of others; and shows itself alike in the habitual entertainment of the abstract or general idea, and in the direction of the conduct with a view to promote this result in any particular instance on which the bene Composite Nature of Emotions. 317 volent desire may be fixed. So there is a positive pleasure, in Borne ill-constituted minds, in the contemplation of the wnhappiness of others ; and this (of which Dickens's Quilp is an impersonation) we designate as Malevolence. Combativeness, again, in so far as it is a Psychical attribute, is the pleasurable idea of setting one's self in antagonism with others. There are individuals who never manifest the least degree of physical Combativeness, who yet show a remarkable love of opposition in all their psychical relations with others. That objections will be raised by such persons to any plan that may be proposed, we can always feel sure, though we may not have the remotest idea as to what the objection may be in each particular case. Persons in whom this tendency exists in a less prominent degree, are apt to see objections and difficulties first, although their good sense may sub- sequently lead them tc consider these as of less account, or to be outweighed by the advantages of the scheme. Such waa the case with the late Sir Robert Peel. On the other hand, those who are spoken-of as of sanguine temperament, are apt to lose sight of the intervening difficulties, in the pleasurable anticipation of the result. So, Pride (or self-esteem) consists in the pleasurable contemplation of our own superior excellencies ; whilst the essence of Vanity (or love of approbation) lies in the pleasurable idea of the applause of others. Again, in Conscientiousness we have the love of right, that is, the association of pleasure with the idea of right; Vene- ration may be defined as the pleasurable contemplation of rank or perfections superior to our own ; and the source of Ambition, which is in some degree the antagonistic tendency, lies in the pleasur- able idea of self-exaltation. In like manner, Hope is the pleasur- abb contemplation of future enjoyment; Fear is the painful contemplation of future evil; and Cautiousness is the combination of the desire to avoid anticipated pain, with the pleasurable con- templation (an extremely strong feeling in many individuals) of precautions adapted to ward it off. — The same view may be applied to the love of Order, of Possessions, of Country, of Wit, of 3i3 Of the Emotions. Humour, &c, and to many conditions usually considered as purely Intellectual. And, in fact, the association of any kind of that emotional sensibility (§157) of which pleasure and pain afford tho simplest type, with any idea, or class of ideas, gives to it an Emo- tional character; so that emotional states are not by any means limited within the categories under which Psychologists have attempted to range them,—these being, for the most part, generic terms, which comprehend certain groups of ideas bearing more or less similarity to each other, but not by any means including all possible combinations. The truth of this statement must be apparent to all who are familiar with the manifestations of eccentricity and insanity; for we frequently see pleasurable feelings associating themselves with Ideas, which to ordinary minds appear indifferent, or are even regarded with pain ; and thus are engendered Motives which exert a most powerful influence over the conduct, and which, if not kept in restraint by the Will, render the whole being their slave. Thus one weak-minded youth was driven to commit a murder, by a passion for living where he could see a wind-mill; and another by a passion for possessing himself of every shoe of a particular kind which he chanced to see.— It may be also remarked, in this place, that the impossibility of classing all the Emotional states of mind under a limited number of categories constitutes a most serious and fundamental objection to any system which professes to mark-out in the Cerebrum distinct 6eats for the animal propensities, moral feelings, &c. 261. By those who regard the Propensities, Moral Feelings, &c, as simple states of mind, it is usually said that their indulgence or exercise is attended with pleasure, and the restraint of them with pain. But, if the view here taken be correct, it is the very co- existence of pleasurable or painful feelings with the idea of a given object, that causes desire or aversion as regards that object; since the mind instinctively pursues what is pleasurable, and avoids what is painful. And thus, according to the readiness with which these different classes of Ideas are excited in different minds (partly Emotional Movements. 319 depending upon original constitution, and partly upon the habitual direction of the thoughts), and to the respective degrees in which they respectively call-forth the different kinds of Emotional sensi- bility (as to which there is obviously an inherent difference amongst individuals, analogous to that which exists with regard to the feelings of pleasure or pain excited by external sensations,—sights, Bounds, tastes, odours, or contacts), will be the tendency of the mind to entertain them, the frequency with which they will present themselves before the mental view, and the influence they will exert in the determination of our conduct. 262. The influence of Emotional conditions, when strongly excited, in directly producing involuntary movements, is readily explained on the idea that the Sensory Ganglia act as the centre of all consciousness, and that the Axial Cord is the real source of all movement. For the excitement of peculiar states of the sensorial centres through the instrumentality of the Cerebrum, will just as readily give rise to automatic movements, as the excitement of similar states by impressions made upon the organs of Sense. And the correspondence is seen to be very close, when the idea distinctly reproduces the sensorial state. Thus, the laughter excited by the act of tickling is a purely consensual movement (§ 79) ; but, in a very "ticklish" person, the mere idea of tickling, suggested by pointing a finger at him, is sufficient to provoke it.—So, again, as laughter may be excited by odd sights or sounds which do not in themselves excite any ideational state, but which act at once upon the " sense of the ludicrous," the same action may be called-forth by the vivid recollection of these occurrences; which, being attended with a state of the Sensorium corresponding to that originally produced by the sensation, gives rise to the same involuntary cachinnation. But laughter may also be excited by ideas that are much more removed from actual sensations ; as, for example, by those unexpected combinations of ideas of a purely intellectual nature, which we designate as 17 320 Of the Emotions. "witty;" and here, too, we may recognize the very same modus operandi. For the mere sound or sight of the words excites no feeling of the ludicrous ; the sensation must develope an ideational change; and it is the latter alone, which, reacting downwards upon the Sensorium, and there becoming associated with the Emotional sensibility, excites the impulse to laugh.—The same might be shown to be the case with regard to the act of crying; which may be either purely consensual, being excited by painful sensations; or may be induced by the vivid recollection of past or the antici- pation of future sensations ; or may be excited by ideas which have no direct relation to sensational states.—Again, the move- ments which take place under the violent excitement of the passion of anger, are of the same involuntary character; being directly prompted by feelings which may be called-up either by external sensations, or by internal ideas that have a like power of exciting them. Thus the passionate man who receives a blow, instinctively makes another blow in the direction from which it seemed to him to come, without any thought of whether the blow was accidental or intentional; while the idea of an insult, which is a source of mental disturbance, may excite the very same movement, although no bodily suffering had been experienced. There are many of the movements of Expression that are referable in hke manner to sensorial states, whether pleasurable or painful, which may arise from ideational as well as from sensational conditions. Thus, as we have seen (§ 156), the cheerful aspect of some individuals ia due to a sense of general physical well-being, and is altogether discomposed by anything which disturbs this; whilst in others, it may proceed from a happy frame of mind (which may be partly the result of original constitution, and partly of habitual self- direction), disposing them to take the cheerful view of everything that affects themselves or others, notwithstanding (it may be) great bodily discomfort. And the reverse aspect of gloom may in like manner proceed alike from bodily or from mental uneasiness.—All Emotional Movements. 321 these facts point, therefore, to the conclusion, that whether the elementary states of Emotional sensibility associate themselves with Sensations, with Perceptions, or with Ideas, they are simple modes of consciousness, the organic seat of which must be in the Sensorial centres ; and this corresponds well with the character of the purely Emotional movements, which, as we have seen, are closely allied to the Sensori-motor in the directness with which they respond to the stimuli that excite them. 263. That the Emotional and Volitional movements differ as to their primal sources, is obvious, not merely from the fact that they are frequently in antagonism with each other,—the Will endeavouring to restrain the Emotional impulse, and either suc- ceeding in doing so, or being vanquished by the superior force of the latter,—but also from the curious fact which Pathological observation has brought to light, that muscles which will still act in obedience to emotional impulses, may be paralysed to volitional, and vice versd. Thus, for example, the arm of a man affected with paralysis, which no effort of his will could move, has been seen to be violently jerked under the influence of the emotional agitation consequent upon the sight of a friend. And in a case of softening of the Spinal cord, the jerking movements which were brought-on by the mere approach of any one to the patient's bed, and still more strongly by putting a question to him, were most violent in the lower limbs, over which he had not the least voluntary power. —It is in the different forms of paralysis of the Facial nerve, how- ever, which is the one most peculiarly subservient to the move- ments of Expression (§ 195), that we have the best evidence of this distinctness. For it sometimes happens that the muscles supplied by this nerve are paralysed so far as regards the will, and yet are still affected by emotional states of mind, and take their usual part in the automatic actions of respiration, &c.; retaining ako their usual tension, so that no distortion is apparent unless voluntary movements be attempted. Thus, to select an action 3 -' 2 Of th e Emotions. which may be performed either consensually, emotionally, or voluntarily, a patient affected with this form of paralysis cannot close the eyelid by an act of his Will, although he winks whim he feels the uneasy sensation that excites the action, and shuts» tho lids when the sudden approach of an object to the eye excites the fear of injury to that organ. On the other hand, the paralysed condition may exist in regard to the Automatic and Emotional actions only, so that the muscles lose their tension, the mouth is drawn to one side, the movements of expression are not performed, and there is no involuntary winking : yet the Will may still exert its accustomed control, and may produce that closure of the fids which does not take place in respondence to any other impulse.* 264. The Emotions are concerned in Man, however, in many actions, which are in themselves strictly voluntary. Unless they be so strongly excited as to get the better of the Will, they do not operate downwards upon the Automatic centres, but upwards upon the Cerebral; supplying the motives by which the course of thought and of action is habitually determined (§ 331). Thns, of two individuals with differently-constituted minds, one shall judge of everything through the medium of a gloomy morose temper, which, like a darkened glass, represents to his judgment the whole world in league to injure him ; and his determinations being all based upon this erroneous view, its indications are ex- hibited in his actions, which are themselves, nevertheless, of an entirely voluntary character. On the other hand, a person of a cheerful, benevolent disposition, looks at the world around as through a Claude-Lorraine-glass, seeing everything in its brightest and sunniest aspect; and, with intellectual faculties (it may be) precisely similar to those of the former individual, he would come to opposite conclusions; because the materials which form the • See the detailed accounts of such cases in Sir C. Bell's work on "Tha Nervous System of the Human Body;" also "Brit, and For. Med. Rev.," vol. iv. p. 500, and vol. xiii. p. 553. Impulsive A ction. 323 basis of his judgment, are submitted to it in a very different con- dition.—Various forms of Moral Insanity exhibit the same contrast in a yet more striking light (§ 556); and the distinction between the sane and the insane is far more difficult to draw in this form of mental disorder, than when Intellectual perversion manifests itself. For we not unfrequently meet with individuals still holding their place in society, who are accustomed to act so much on impulse, and to be so little guided by the rational will, that they can scarcely be regarded as sane ; and a very little exaggeration of such impulses causes the actions to be so injurious to the individual himself, or to those around him, that restraint is required, although the intellect is in no way disordered, nor are any of the feelings perverted. We may often observe similar inconsistencies, result- ing from the habitual indulgence of one particular feeling, or from a morbid exaggeration of it. The mother who, through weakness of will, yields to her instinctive fondness for her offspring, in allowing it gratifications which she knows to be injurious to it, is placing herself below the level of many less gifted beings. The habit of yielding to a natural infirmity of temper often leads into paroxysms of ungovernable rage, which, in their turn, pass into a state of maniacal excitement. The poor girl who drowns herself after a quarrel with her lover, or the nursemaid who cuts the throat of a child to whom she is tenderly attached, because her mistress has rebuked her for wearing too fine a bonnet, may be really labouring under a " temporary insanity'' which drives her hresistibly to a great crime ; yet, just as the man who commits a murder in a state of drunken frenzy is responsible for his irresponsi- bility (§ 545), so is the suicide or the murderess, in so far as she tias habitually neglected to control the wayward feelings wrhose strong excitement has impelled her to the commission ofher crime.— It not unfrequently occurs, moreover, that a delusion of the intellect (constituting what is commonly known as Monomania) has had its source in a disordered state of the feelings, which have represented 324 Of the Emotions. every occurrence in a wrong light to the mind of the individual (§ 559). All such conditions are of extreme interest, when com- pared with those which are met-with amongst Idiots, and in animals enjoying a much lower degree of intelligence: for the result is much the same in whatever way the balance between the feelings and the rational will (which is so beautifully adjusted in the well-ordered mind of Man) is disturbed ; whether by a diminution of the Volitional control, or by an undue exaltation of the Emo- tions and Passions. 265. This double mode of action of the Emotions—downwards through the nerve-trunks upon the Muscular apparatus, and also upon many of the Organic functions (Chap. XIX.),—and upwards upon those Cerebral actions which give rise to the higher states of Mental consciousness,—affords a satisfactory explanation of a fact which is practically familiar to most observers of Human nature ; namely, that violent excitement of the Feelings most speedily sub- sides, when these unrestrainedly expend themselves (so to speak) in their natural expressions. Thus it may be commonly noticed that those who are termed demonstrative persons are less firm and deep in their attachments, than those who manifest their feelings less : for, without any real insincerity or intentional fickleness, the strongly-excited feelings of the former are rapidly calmed-down by the expenditure of the impulse to bodily action which they have generated ; whilst in the latter the very same feelings, acting inter- nally, acquire a permanent place in the Psychical nature, and habitually operate as motives to the conduct. So, again, persons who are "quick-tempered," manifesting great irascibility upon small provocations, real or supposed, are usually soon appeased, and speedily forget the affront; whilst many who make little or no display of anger, are very apt to brood-over and cherish their feelings of indignation, and may visit them upon the unfortunate object of them on some favourable opportunity, long after he had supposed that the occurrence which had given rise to them waa Emotional Movements. 325 forgotten. There is an instinctive restlessness, or tendency to general bodily movement, in some individuals, when they are Buffering under Emotional excitement; the indulgence of which appears to be a sort of safety-valve for the excess of Nerve-force, whilst the attempt at its repression is attended with an increase in the excitement. Most persons are conscious of the difficulty of sitting still when they are labouring under violent agitation, and of the rel'.ef which is afforded by active exercise ; and this is par- ticularly the case when the movements are such as naturally express the passion that is excited. Thus the combative propen- sities of the Irish peasant commonly evaporate speedily with the free play of his shillelagh, many irascible persons find great relief in a hearty explosion of oaths, others in a violent slamming of the door, and others (whose excitement is more moderate but less transient) in a prolonged fit of grumbling. a. This view is most fully confirmed by certain phenomena of Insanity. It is a doctrine now generally received among practical men, that paroxysms of violent Emotional excitement are much more likely to subside, when they are allowed to "work themselves off" freely, without any attempt at mechanical restraint; and maniacal patients are now placed, in all well-managed Asylums, in padded rooms, in which their movements can do no injury to themselves or othera.—The following case was related to the Writer by his friend Dr. Howe, of Boston, N.E., the instructor of Laura Bridgman. A half-idiotic youth in the Lunatic Asylum of that place, was the Bubject (like many in hia condition) of frequent and violent paroxysms of anger; and with the view of moderating these, it was suggested that he should be kept for some time every day in rather fatiguing exercise. Accordingly he was employed for two or three hours daily in sawing wood, to which task he made no objection; and the paroxysms of rage never displayed themselves, except on Sundays, when his employment waa intermitted. Aa it was considered, however, to be better for him to spend a part of that day in sawing wood, than to be irascible during the whole of it, his occupation was continued through the entire week, when 326 Of the Emotions. he became completely tamed-down, and never gave any more trouble by his passionate displays. So, again, if a ludicrous idea be suggested to our consciousness, occasioning an impulse to laugh, a hearty "guffaw" generally works-off the excitement, and we may be surprised a short time afterwards that such an absurdity should have provoked oui risi- bility ; but if we restrain the explosion, the idea continues to " haunt" us, and is continually perturbing our trains of thought until we have given free vent to the expression of it.—Again, it is well known that the depressing emotions are often worked-off by a fit of crying and sobbing ; and the " relief of tears " seems mani- festly due to the expenditure of the pent-up nerve-force, in the production of an increased secretion. It is noticed in this case, too, that the absence of any such external manifestations of the depressing emotions, gives them a much greater influence upon the course of thought, and upon the bodily state of the individual. Those who really " die of grief," are not those who are loud and vehement in their lamentations, for their sorrow is commonly transient, however vehement and sincere while it lasts ; but they are those who have either designedly repressed any such mani- festations, or who have experienced no tendency to their display; and their deep-seated sorrow seems to exert the same kind of anti- vital influence upon the Organic functions, that is exercised more violently by "shock" (§ 41); producing their entire cessation without any structural lesion. b. The Writer once heard the following singular case of this kind :— One of two sisters, orphans, who were strongly attached to each other, became the subject of consumption; she was most tenderly nursed by her sister during a long illness; but on her death, the latter, instead of giving way to grief in the manner that might have been anticipated, appeared perfectly unmoved, and acted almost as if nothing had happened. About a fortnight after her sister's death, however, she was found dead In her bed; yet neither had there been Their Influence on Volitional Effect. 327' any symptoms during life, nor was there any post-mortem appear- ance, which in the least degree accounted for this event,—of which no explanation seems admissible, except the depressing influence of her pent-up grief upon her frame generally, through the Nervous Bystem. 236, The influence of Emotional excitement may operate t pon the Muscles, however, not only in giving-rise to the movements which it directly calls forth, but also in affecting the £ ower of the Will over the muscular system, by intensifying or weakening its action. For there can be no doubt that, under the strong influence of one class of feelings, the Will can effect results such as the individual would scarcely even attempt in his calmer moments; whilst the influence of another class of feelings is exer- cised in precisely the opposite direction, weakening or even paralysing the force which was previously in full activity. It must be within the knowledge of every one, that, when first attempting to perform some new kind of action, the power we feel capable of exerting depends in great measure upon the degree of our assurance of success. Of this we have a good example in the procesa of learning to swim; which is greatly facilitated, as Dr. Franklin pointed-out, by our first taking means to satisfy ourselves of the buoyancy of our bodies in the water, by attempting to pick up an object from the bottom. And every one ia aware of the assistance derived from the encouragement of others, when we are ourselvea doubtful of our powers; and of the detrimental influence of dis- couragement or suggested doubt, even when we previously felt a considerable confidence of success. Of the almost superhuman Btrength and agility with which the body seems endowed, when the whole energy is concentrated upon some Nervo-muscular effort, especially under the influence of an overpowering emotion, the following remarkable example has been communicated to the Writer by a gentlemac on whom he can place full reliance, and who waa personally cognizant of the fact :—An old cook-maid, tottering with age, having heard an alarm of fire, seized an enormous box con- taining her whole property, and ran down stairs with it, as easily as she would have carried a dish of meat. After the fire had been 328 Of the Emotions. extinguished, she could not lift the box a hair's breadth from the ground, and it required two men to convey it upstairs again. 267. But tho same Emotion does not always act in the same mode: thus, the fear of danger may nerve one man to the most daring and vigorous efforts to avert it, whilst another is rendered power- less, and gives-way to unavailing lamentations; and the ardent anticipation of success may so unsettle the determinative energy of one aspirant, as to prevent him from attaining his object, whilst another may only be sustained by it in the toilsome struggle of which it is the final reward. Now in order that this variety may be explained, and the modus operandi of the Emotions on strictly Volitional actions may be duly comprehended, we must here state two of the essential conditions of the latter: one of which is, that there should be not merely a distinct conception of the purpose to be attained, but also a belief that the purpose will or at least may be attained; whilst the other is, that the attention should be to a great extent withdrawn from other objects, and should be concentrated upon that towards which the Will is directed The following cases illustrate these principles :— a. The Writer well remembers being among those, who, forty years ago, tested the validity of the statement put-forth in Sir D. Brewster's " Natural Magic," that four persons can lift a full-sized individual from the ground, high into the air, with the greatest facility, provided they all take-in a full breath previously to the effort, the person lifted doing the same. He could readily understand upon Physio- logical principles, that a full inspiration on the part of the lifter* would have a certain degreee of efficacy in augmenting their Nervo- muscular power ; but he could not perceive how the performance of the same act by the person lifted could have any appreciable effect; and while many of his acquaintances assured him that, when all the conditions were duly observed, the body went up " like a feather," and that they felt satisfied of being able to support it upon the points of their fingers, he found his own experience quite different. Hence he came to the conclusion, after much observation, that the facility Their Influence on Volitional Effect. 329 afforded by this method entirely depended upon the degree iu which it fulfilled the above-mentioned conditions, namely, the fixation of the attention upon the effort, and the conviction of the success of the method. Whenever the attention waa distracted, and confidence weakened by scepticism as to the result, the promised assistance waa not experienced. 6. The following little circumstance communicated to the Writer by a friend, is a very characteristic illustration of the same principle. Ihis gentleman related that, having been accustomed in his boy- hood to play at bagatelle with other juniors of hia family, the party was occasionally joined by a relative who was noted for her success at the game, and who was consequently much dreaded as an oppo- nent ; and that, on one occasion, when she was about to take her turn against him, he roguishly exclaimed, " Now, aunty, you will not be able to make a hit;" the effect of which suggestion was, that she missed every stroke,—and not only at that turn, but through the remainder of the evening. 268. Since, then, there is nothing which tends so much to the success of a Volitional effort as a confident expectation of its success, whilst nothing is so likely to" induce failure as the appre- hension of it, and since the tendency of the cheerful or joyous Emotions is to suggest and keep-alive the favourable anticipations, whilst that of the depressing emotions is to bring before the view all the chances of failure, the former will increase the power of the Volitional effort, and the latter will diminish it. And they exert also a direct influence on the Physical powers, through the organs of cir- culation and respiration ; the heart's impulses being more vigorous and regular, and the aeration of the blood being more effectually performed, in the former of these conditions than in the latter.—But an altogether contrary effect may be produced by the operation of these two classes of Emotions on the concentrative power. For the more completely the mental energy can be brought into one focus, and all distracting objects excluded, the more powerful will be the Volitional effort; and the effect of emotional excitement will thus in a great degree depend upon the Intellectual constitution 33° Of the Emotions. which the individual may happen to possess. >For if he have a considerable power of Abstraction and Concentration, and a full conviction that he has selected the best or the only means to accomplish his end, the intensest fear of the consequences of failure will only increase the force of the motive which prompts the effort; and the whole energy of which his nature is capable, will be put forth in the attempt. In a man of this temperament, the most joyous anticipation of success will produce no abatement of his efforts, no distraction of his attention, but will rather tend to keep him steady to his purpose until it shall have been accomplished. But the mind which is deficient in concentrative power is lamentably deranged by any kind of Emotional excitement, in the performance of any Vohtional effort. For the fear of failure is constantly suggesting to him new distresses, weakens his confidence in any method suggested for his action, and makes him direct his attention, not to some fixed plan as the best or the only feasible one, but to any and every means that may present a chance of success, or may even serve to avert his thoughts from the dreaded catastrophe; whilst, on the other hand, the joyous anticipation of success leads him to allow his thoughts to direct themselves towards all its agree- able consequences, instead of fixing his Intellectual and Voli- tional energy upon the means by which that success is to be attained. 269. We have now to inquire into the influence which the Will has upon the Emotions ;—a subject of the highest importance in regard to the direction of the current of thought and the determina- tion of our actions. That the Will has such a power, is recognised in those common forms of admonition, " Control your passions,'1 li Govern your temper," and the like. But the success of ita exertion will mainly depend upon the judiciousness of the mode in which it is attempted; and here, as it seems to the Writer, much assistance is gained from the Physiological method of study Volitional Control over Emotions. 331 which it has been his aim to develope.—In the first place, it may be unhesitatingly affirmed that the Will has no direct power over the emotional Sensibility. We can no more avoid feeling mental " hurt," than we can avoid feeling bodily " hurt." But we have exactly the same power of withdrawing the attention from the mental " hurt," that we have of withdrawing it from bodily pain (§ 124), by determinately fixing it upon some ether object; and this is the mode in which (as all experience shows) the passions of Children, which are often excited to a degree that is out of all pro- portion to the exciting cause, and are but little Impendent upon Ideational states, are most readily controlled. The difference between a judicious and an injudicious Mother or Nurse is strikingly shown in the ways in which they respectively deal with the most familiar incident of Child-life. When the little one falls down and hurts itself, and sets up the loud cry of pain and alarm, there are (as Sir Robert Peel used to say), three courses open, —to soothe and ' coddle,' to rebuke and frighten, and to distract the attention by the interposition of some new object attractive enough to engage it. Now, the first method, however kindly meant, haa the disadvantage of making the Child attend to its hurt, and of thus intensifying the feelings connected with it; which, being the very thing to be avoided, should never be had recourse to unless the injury ia really serious. The second no doubt givea a motive to eelf- control; but that motive is inappropriate to the occasion, adding a sense of injustice to the smart of the injury. Whilst the third, by leading the Child to transfer its attention to a more vivid and pleasurable impression, affords time for the smart to die away, and makes the child feel that even when fresh it can be disregarded.—As age advances, the judicious Parent no longer trusts to mere sensory impressions for the diversion of the emotional excitement; but calls up in the mind of the Child such ideas and feelings as it is capable of appreciating, and endeavours to keep the attention fixed upon these until its violence has subsided. And recourse is to be had to the same process, whenever it i8 desired to check any tendency to action which depends upon the selfish propensities; appeal being always made to the highest motives which the Child is capable 332 Of the Emotions. Df recognising, and recourse being had to punishment only for the purpose of supplying an additional set of motives when all others fail. For a time this process of external Suggestion may need to be continually repeated, eapecially where there are strong impulse* whose unworthy character calls for repression; but if it be judiciously adapted and constantly persevered-in, a very slight suggestion servea to recall the superior motives to the conflict. And in a yet more advanced stage, the Child cornea to feel that he has himself tho power of recalling them, and of controlling his urgent impulses to immediate action. 270. In tho second place, the Will oan exert itself, as already shown, in preventing the expression cf the excited feelings in action; by determinately bringing the Volitional control over the muscles to antagonize the Emotional impulse,—as in the cases already cited. It seems to the Writer, however, quite a mistake to suppose that the suppression of the muscular expression of an emotion, represses the emotion itself; on the contrary, as he has already shown (§ 265), the emotional state is more likely to last, if it does not vent itself in action,—unless, as sometimes happens when persons in- tentional1 y " work themselves up into a passion," the muscular movements themselves operate suggestively on the mind, so as to augment, instead of relieving, the excitement (§ 494). This reaction is very manifest in persons of the Hysterical tempera- ment, who, either from an injudicious system of education, or from habitual want of self-control, or from bodily disorder, give way to the most exaggerated and inconsistent expressions of their feelings,—smiles and tears, laughter and sobbing, being strangely intermingled, and being excited by the most trivial cause. That the deficiency here lies rather in the power of controlling the thoughlt and feelings, rather than in that of directing the action of the muscles, appears from the fact that an Hysterical paroxysm may often be kept off by the threat of severe discipline; whilst, by judicious guidance, the patient may be led to cultivate her own power of repressing the first risings of the Emotional excitement, Volitional Control over Emotions. 333 by the determinate direction of her attention to some other object than her own feelings. 271. But where, thirdly, the Emotion is not a mere passion, but is a state of feeling connected with some definite idea, tho power of the Will is most effectually exerted in withdrawing the mind from the influence of that idea, by fixing the attention upon some otlier The power of self-control, usually acquired in the first instance in regard to those Emotional impulses which directly prompt to action (§ 262), thus gradually extends itself to the habitual succession of the thoughts ; wrhich, directed to the acquirement of knowledge in the first instance by the dominating Will of the instructor, who uses his pupil's love of praise or fear of punishment as a motive power, comes in time to be so regulated by the Ego himself, as to give him a great indirect power over the emotional sensibilities connected with them. For just as, by a determined effort, we restrain ourselves from laughing when laughing would be unseemly, so can a strong Volition keep out of view the idea that excites risibility, by a determined direction of the thoughts into another channel; as when, for example, in a place of worship, it fixes on the prayer or the discourse the attention which had been distracted by some ludicrous interruption. And this determinate transference of the attention affords the surest means of escape from the domination of thoughts and feelings which we feel it wrong to entertain. We cannot prevent the rise of these in our minds. As Archbishop Manning has truly said—" The memory of insults or great wrongs will arise in the mind, or brain, if you will, at the sight of the person who has outraged us; or by associations of time, place, or any one of endless circumstances ; or, again, by the direct suggestion of others. So far, the thoughts * [and, it may be added, the feelings prompted by them] may be spontaneous or involuntary on our part. Their presence in the mind is neither good nor evil. Their first impression on the mind, even though it become a fascination or an attraction to 334- Of the Emotions. an immoral act, is not immoral, because, as yet, though the Thought has conceived them, the Will has not accepted them."* It is the acceptance of them by the permission of the Will, that makes them Voluntary, and brings them within the sphere of Moral control; whilst it is the intentional direction of the Attention to them which gives them their Volitional character, and makes the Ego fully responsible for whatever he may do at their prompting.— The experience of the Physician here comes in to the aid of the Psychologist, in showing how Volitional control over Emotional states is best maintained : We will take the case of a Man who haa sustained a great shock by the loss of a dearly-loved wife, child, or friend, a disappointed affection, or commercial ruin. His Physical condition is lowered, the power of hia Will is weakened, the painful impression seem8 branded into his innermost nature, he cannot help feeling it most acutely, he seems powerless to withdraw himself from it. He may be exhorted to "rouse himself;" every conceivable motive may be suggested to him for doing so ; but all in vain. What is needed is the complete distraction of his attention from brooding over his mis- fortune; and the force which the weakened Will cannot of ilself exert, must be supplied by the attractive influence of new scenea and persons, and the complete severance from painful associations. He yields himself passively to hia advisers; at first " all seema barren, from Dan to Beersheba" ; he looks up into the dome of St. Peter's, or down into the crater of Vesuvius, and finda "nothing in it." But gradually his bodily health improves; he begins to show some interest in what he sees and hears; and a judicious companion, like a good nurse, watches for every sign, and encourages every movement in the right direction, noticing what proves most attractive, and secretly planning to bring its attractions into play. At first, the patient seema ashamed of being cheerful, and falls back into his moodiness, as if he felt it a duty to hug the memory of hia lost happiness ; but these relapses, after a time, become less and less frequent. He begins to find that it is really much pleasanter to * Contemporary Review, Feb. 1871, p 476. Volitional Control over Emotions. 335 forget himself, and to make himself agreeable to others, than it is to brood morosely over his troubles. With the re-invigoration of hia bodily health, his Volitional power gradually returns ; and he comes to feel that he can resist the tendency to revert to them, by determinately giving his attention to the objects around him. The resisting power required becomes less and less, the more frequently it is exerted; and at length the Mental health is completely restored,—the brood- ing tendency, however, being apt to recur, either when the Will ie weakened by physical fatigue, or when old associations are revived with peculiar force and vividness. 272. A valuable lesson maybe drawn from these familiar experi- ences, in regard to the mode of dealing with those unrighteous Thoughts and Feelings, which furnish temptations to immoral action of any kind. The Will may put forth its utmost strength in the way of direct repression, and may entirely fail; whilst by exerting the same amount of force in changing the direction, complete success may be attained. When the question is not of restraining some sudden impulse of excited passion, but of keeping down an habitual tendency to evil thoughts of some particular class, and of preventing them from gaining a dominant influence, it does not answer to be continually repeating to oneself, " I will not allow myself to think of this ;" for the repetition, by fixing the attention on the very thought or feeling from which we desire to escape, gives it an additional and even overpowering intensity, as many a poor misguided but well-intentioned sufferer has found to his cost. The real remedy is to be found in the determined effort to think of some- thing else, and to turn into a wholesome and useful pursuit the energy which, wrongly directed, is injurious to the individual and to society; just as, in " The Caxtons," the Poacher whose love of sport no fear of punishment could restrain, becomes a most valuable Bush- man when persuaded to accompany Pisistratus to Australia.— Whilst, then, the Intellectual faculties are exercised in the acquirement of Knowledge and in the pursuit of Truth, by the Volitional direction of their own spontaneous and automatic 33^ Of the Emotions. activity, the Moral character is formed, and the Conduct mainly determined, by the direction we determinately give to those Motive powers which give energy to all our work in fife. And there is a strong Physiological probability that the effect of such habitual self-discipline does not end with the Individual, but is exerted upon the Race ; the Emotional tendencies having so much of the character of Instincts, that the Hereditary transmission of the form they have acquired may be expected in the one case as in the other (§ 84). CHAPTER VIII. OF HABIT. 273. Tuert if no part of Man's composite nature, in which the iutimate relation between Mind and Body is more obvious, than it is in the formation of habitual modes of activity, whether Psychical or Corporeal; the former, like the latter, being entirely conformable to the Laws which express the ordinary course of the Nutritive operations. A general knowledge of these Laws being therefore essential to the student of Mental Physiology, a concise statement of them will be here given. 274. In the first place, it is characteristic of every living Organism to build itself up according to a certain inherited type or pattern ; so that we must attribute to its germ a " formative capacity," in virtue of which it turns to account both the food aud the force which it derives from without,—like the Architect who directs the construction of an edifice, which is raised out of the materials brought together by one set of workmen, by means of the labour furnished by another. But this constructive process may undergo considerable modification under the influence of external conditions; so that the reproduction of the parental model is attended with more or less of variation. This influence is peculiarly manifested in the lower types both of Animal and Vegetable life ; many of which display a remarkable polymorphism. Thus the germs of the simpler Fungi, falling upon different kinds of decomposing matter, will develop themselves into forms that differ bo strikingly from each other, as to have been accounted not only specifically but genetically distinct. And in the case of the higher types, it is during the early stages of development that the modi- 338 Of Habit. fying influence of external conditions is most strongly exerted; the Constitution of the individual then adapting itself to changes, which, when that constitution has once been fixed, arc powerless to alter it. Of this early modifiability no more striking example could be adduced, than the artificial production of Queen-bees from Worker-larvse (§ 59) ; the whole course of the develop- ment, and the subsequent life-history of the Insect, as well Psychical as Physical, being here determined for each individual by the food and nurture it receives. Although among higher animals we know of no case that is comparable to this in degree, yet there is ample evidence of the same kind of modifiability ; of which the following fact mentioned by Sir Charles Lyell affords a good example :— " Some of our countrymen engaged about the year 1825 in conducting one of the principal mining associations in Mexico, that of Real del Monte, carried out with them some English greyhounds of the best breed, to hunt the hares which abound in that country. The great platform which is here the scene of sport is at an elevation of about 9,000 feet above the level of the sea, and the mercury in the barometer stands habitually at the height of about 19 inches. It was found that the greyhounds could not support the fatigues of a long chase in this attenuated atmosphere, and before they could come up with their prey, they lay down gasping for breath; hut these same animals have produced whelps which have grown up, and are not in the least degree incommoded by the want of density in the air, but run down the hares with as much ease as the fleetest of their race in this country."—(Principles of Geology, 11th edit. vol. ii. p. 297.) 275. But, secondly, the building-up of the Organism of man or ;>f any one of the higher animals, is not a mere process of addition and extension ; for its evolution involves a continual reconstruction of every part of the fabric, the intimate substance of each con- stituent organ being subject to rapid and incessant change. It ia this which makes the demand for food so much greater in propor Influence oj Modifying Conditions. 339 tion to the size of the body during the period of growth, than after its completion; the quantity of new material applied to actual increase, bearing but a very small proportion to that which is required for the constant renewal which that increase involves.— Uu! during the whole period of growth, there is also a development i'f new parts, the original plan not being completed until provision has been made for the perpetuation of the race, as well as for the continued life of the individual. And it is the special charac- teristic of Man, that the period required for the attainment of completa maturity is much longer in proportion to the entireterm of life, than it is among the lower animals. During the whole of this period, each component part of the organism may be said to be undergoing a continual rejuvenescence; which is especially shown in the rapidity and completeness with which the effects of injuries are repaired. And thus the modifiability which is characteristic of the organism as a whole during its earliest stages, continues to show itself in each individual organ until its evolution is complete. Thus it is a matter of universal experience, that every kind of training for special aptitudes, is both far more effective, and leaves a more permanent impress, when exerted on the growing organism, than when brought to bear on the adult. The effect of such training is shown in the tendency of the organ to "grow to" the mode in which it is habitually exercised; as is evidenced by the increased size and power of particular sets of Muscles, and the extraordinary flexibility of Joints, which are acquired by such as have been early exercised in gj-mnastic performances. 276. In the third place, after the Organism has come to its full Maturity, it requires to be maintained by the constant exercise of the Nutritive functions; every exertion of its animal Force in- volving a " waste of tissue," which, unless compensated by a corre- sponding renovation, would speedily end in death. In fact, it may be said that the whole function of the complicated apparatus 340 Of Habit. of Organic life (§ 31), when the development of the apparatus of Animal life has been once completed, is to keep it in " working order," and to supply it with the oxygenated blood which is required for the excitement of its activity (§§ 41, 42). But further, while the apparatus of Animal life is subject to " waste " as the very condition of its production of Force, that of Organic life is also subject to "waste" in the course of its construc- tive operations ; so that the entire organism needs a continual renovation by Nutritive action; the rate of that renovation being mainly determined by the functional activity of each part, but the fundamental plan or law being the same throughout. Thus we everywhere observe a tendency to the maintenance of the perfect type; the new materials being substituted for the old in such a manner that, notwithstanding the incessant change in the actual components of the Organism, there is no change in its structure. or composition. And this is seen most remarkably in the reparation of injuries; which, though not so rapid in the adult, and more limited in its range, is not less complete within that range than it is in the child. There may be said, in fact, to be a continual rejuvenescence throughout the whole of vigorous manhood, differing from that of the period of growth only in degree ; so that each organ has still, to a certain extent, the power of growing-to the mode in which it is habitually exercised. And, as Sir James Paget long since pointed-out, the formative power is often exer- cised, not only in maintaining the original type, but also in keeping up some acquired peculiarity ; as, for example, in the perpetuation of the scar left after the healing of a wound. For the tissue of the cicatrix grows and assimilates nutrient material, exactly as does that of the skin which surrounds it; and thus it not only "grows with the growth" of the child, but is maintained during the whole life of the adult. So, if a child of originally healthy con- stitution be subjected for a sufficient length of time to such injurious physical conditions as produce a tendency to some par- Influence of Modifying Conditions. 341 ticular type of disease, by modifying the normal course of Nutritive action, such tendency (known in Medicine as a diathesis), unless early counteracted, not only tends to establish itself during the life of the individual, but to transmit itself hereditarily to the (.ffspring (§ 299). If, on the other hand, a child should inherit such a constitutional tendency, it is during the period of growth and development that appropriate treatment is most efficacious in the removal of it, by restoring the healthy play of the nutritive functions. 277. Familiar as these general facts are, their special application to the Physiology of Habit has not been generally apprehended. There is no part of the Organism of Man, in which the reconstructive activity is so great, during the whole period of life, as it is in the ganglionic substance of the Brain. This is indicated alike by the enormous supply of Blood which it receives (for of that large amount which goes to the brain as a whole, § 40, by far the greater proportion is distributed to the "grey matter" of the Cere- bral convolutions, of the Sensorial centres, and the Cerebellum); by the evidence furnished by the presence of the products of its oxidation in the excretions, that it undergoes a "waste" pro- portioned to the demand made upon its functional activity; and by those Microscopic appearances of its tissues, which mark a rapid succession of developmental changes whereby that " waste" is repaired. It is, moreover, a fact of great significance, that the Nerve-substance is specially distinguished by its reparative power. For whilst injuries of other tissues (such as the Muscular) which oi-o distinguished by the speciality of their structure and endow- ments, are repaired by substance of a lower or less special- ized type, those of Nerve-substance are repaired by a com- plete reproduction of the normal tissue; as is evidenced in the sensibility of the newly-forming skin which is closing over an open wound, or in the recovery of the sensibility of a piece of " transplanted" skin, which has for a time been rendered 342 Of Habit. insensible by the complete interruption of the continuity of its nerves. The most remarkable example of this reproduc- tion, however, is afforded by the results of M. Brown- Se'quard's experiments upon the gradual restoration cf the func- tional activity of the Spinal Cord after its complete division ; which takes place in a way that indicates rather a reproduction of the whole of the lower part of the Cord and of the Nerves proceeding from it, than a mere reunion of divided surfaces (§ 72). This reproduction is but a special manifestion of the reconstructive change which is always taking place in the Nervous system; it being not less obvious to the eye of Reason, that the " waste" occasioned by its functional activity must be constantly repaired by the production of new tissue, than it is to the eye of Sense, that such reparation supplies an actual loss of substance by disease or injury. 278. Now in this constant and active reconstruction of the Nervous system, we recognize a most marked conformity to the general plan already shown to be manifested in the Nutrition of the Organism as a whole. For, in the first place, it is obvious that there is a tendency to the production of a determinate type of structure; which type is often not merely that of the Species, but Borne special modification of it which characterized one or both of the progenitors. But this type is peculiarly liable to modification during the early period of life ; in which the functional activity of the Nervous system (and particularly of the Brain) is extraordi- narily great, and the reconstructive process proportionally active. And this modifiability expresses itself in the formation of the Mechanism by which those secondarily-automatic modes of Move- ment come to be established, which, in Man, take the place of those that are congenital in most of the animals beneath him (§§ 191-194) ; and those modes of Sense-perception come to be acquired, which are elsewhere clearly instinctive (§§ 160-184). For there can be no reasonable doubt that, in both cases, a Nervous Formation of the Nervous Mechanism. 343 Mechanism is developed in the course of this self-education, corresponding with that which the lower animals inherit from their parents. The plan of that rebuilding process, which ia necessary to maintain the integrity of the organism generally (§ 276), and which goes on with peculiar activity in this portion of it, is thus being incessantly modified ; and in this manner all that portion of it which ministers to the external life of sense and motion that is shared by Man with the Animal kingdom at large, becomes at adult age the expression of the habits which the individual has acquired during the period of growth and develop- ment. Of these Habits, some are common to the race generally, whilst others are peculiar to the individual; those of the former kind (such as walking erect) being universally acquired, save where physical inability prevents ; whilst for the latter a special training is needed, which is usually the more effective the earlier it is begun,—as is remarkably seen in the case of such feats of dexterity as require a conjoint education of the per- ceptive and of the motor powers. And when thus developed during the period of growth, so as to have become a part of the Constitution of the adult, the acquired mechanism is thenceforth maintained in the ordinary course of the Nutritive operations, so as to be ready for use when called-upon, even after long in- action (§ 194). 279. What is so clearly true of the Nervous Apparatus of Animal Life,'can scarcely be otherwise than true of that which ministers to the automatic activity of the Mind. For, as already shown, the study of Psychology has evolved no more certain result, than that there are uniformities of mental action, which are so entirely conformable to those of bodily action, as to indicate their intimate relation to a " Mechanism of Thought and Feelino-" acting under the like conditions with that of Sense and Motion. The Psychical principles of association (§ 218), indeed, and the Physiological principles of nutrition (§§ 275-7), simply express— 18 344 Of Habit. the former in terms of Mind, the latter in terms of Brain—the uni- versally admitted fact, that any sequence of mental action which has been frequently repeated, tends to perpetuate itself; so that we find ourselves automatically prompted to think, feel, or do what we have been before accustomed to think, feel, or do, under like circumstances, without any consciously-formed purpose, or antici- pation of results. For there is no reason to regard the Cerebrum as an exception to the general principle, that, whilst each part of the organism tends to form itself in accordance with the mode in which it is habitually exercised, this tendency will be especially strong in the Nervous apparatus, in virtue of that incessant regene- ration which is the very condition of its functional activity. It scarcely, indeed, admits of doubt, that every state of ideational consciousness which is either very strong or is habitually repeated, leaves an organic impression on the Cerebrum ; in virtue of which that same state may be reproduced at any future time, in re- spondence to a suggestion fitted to excite it (§ 363). And this Psychical response, which is for the Cerebrum what a secondarily automatic movement is for the sensori-motor apparatus, no less certainly depends (in the view of the Physiologist) upon a reflex action of the Cerebrum (§ 94), than does an habitual Movement on the reflex action of the Axial Cord. 280. The " strength of early associations" is a fact so univer- sally recognized, that the expression of it has become proverbial; and this precisely accords with the Physiological principle, that, during the period of growth and development, the formative activity of the Brain will be most amenable to directing influences. It is in this way that what is early " learned by heart " becomes branded-in (as it were) upon the Cerebrum; so that its "traces" are never lost, even though the conscious memory of it may have completely faded-out (§ 344). For when the organic modification has been once fixed in the growing Brain, it becomes a part of th which the child has to be taught through his consciousness. But that lesson is far more effectual, when the preparation for it haa been made, and the illustration of it afforded, by the habitual example of the elders of the family; that of older brothers and 358 Of Habit. Bisters being in this respect (as in many others) even more im- pressive than that of parents, whom the child is apt to regard un- consciously as in a distinct category from itself. Hence arises the vast importance of giving a right direction to the character of the first child in a family ; and those who have had the opportunity of observing the immense influence, either for good or for evil, which that example insensibly as well as sensibly exerts, will fully confirm the Writer's estimate of its importance.—It is wonderful how powerfully what may be called the current of daily life carries along with it, without any consciousness of its influence, those who are subject to it. Thus, in a Household, or in a School, where order and regularity prevail, and where the sense of duty is pre- dominant, the preference of duty to pleasure comes to be the general habit; the lessons are prepared as a " matter of course," before mere amusement (proper intervals of recreation being presupposed) is had recourse to; and no written rule, or system of punishments, to enforce it, is found requisite. The Child's knowledge (when it comes to think on the matter) that its neglect or carelessness as to the preparation of lessons will give pain to a Parent whom it loves, unconsciously determines its habit of application; and the Schoolboy's feeling towards a Master who has acquired his respect and confidence, instinctively governs his whole conduct towards him. " It's a shame to tell Arnold a lie, because he always believes one," was the resultant of a very large number of impressions made by the character of that noble type of an educator upon the mind of the lad who gave utterance to this oft-quoted phrase; and if these impressions could be sepa- rately reviewed, it would assuredly be found that the operation cf many of them had never distinctly come before the consciousness of their recipient. Of one who, within a narrower sphere, exercised a power probably not inferior to Arnold's " of commanding the reverence and reconsti- tuting the wills, of the least manageable class of human beings," it waa Sense of Right a?id fust ice. 359 •aid by one of his most distinguished pupils, whose own character rendered him peculiarly amenable to that influence, " I have often reflected on this singular power, and tried to make out where the secret of it lay. Though there were doubtless cases which it could not reach, it daily achieved triumphs which most teachers would believe impos- Bible."* He traces it mainly to the combination of great and varied Intellectual power, acting through well-formed habits of thought, with profound sense of right pervading the whole life and conver- sation, and with the insight derived from a thorough and affectionate sympathy with boy-nature, quickened by a temperament of peculiar vivacity. " The spirit of duty in his house was no withered ghost of custom, but such a living reality as it befalls few to witness. Though the machinery of rules and habits devised for the maintenance of punctuality and order was more complicated and extensive thai. I have ever seen in operation elsewhere, never was there less indolent trust in mere routine. The mechanism served, and never ruled, and at the remotest point, felt the thrill of some high purpose at, its moving power." ... " The earnestness with which he insisted ok the smallest things being done well, waa an indication of the same kind, manifesting his watchfulness against the least slovenliness of conscience, hia resolu- tion to close the most trivial aperture through which looseness and disorder could find entrance into life." . . . "Boyhood, which detests as they deserve, all kinds of sham and pretence, easily places itself at the disposal of a sincerity so profound as this ; owns as a true guide one who lives under an authority of the rules he imposes, and whose administration of command is in itself an exercise of obedience."—It may be doubted whether this waa consciously owned, save by those whose own Intelligence was sufficiently developed to analyse the sources of the power thus exerted; to the Writer (whose privilege it waa to experience it from his earliest years) it seema to have acted in the first instance through the deeper and more direct channels of Un- conscious Influence. It muat have been as the resultant of a multi- tude of aeparate impressions, many of them not rising to the level of conscious apprehension, that "hia perceptive eye looked into order a thousand things for which there was no audible guidance or com- mand." * See the Rev. James Martineau's admirable lelineation of the Character d/ Dr. Lant Carpenter as a Schoolmaster, in the Memoirs of his Life, pp. 342-352. 360 Of Habit. (iv.) Last, but not least, among the components of a healthy Moral atmosphere, is love towards others ; showing itself in that habitual kindness, which springs from consideration for their feelings as well as for their rights. The fostering of this principle by her own example, is one of the most important functions of the Mother or Nurse; upon whom falls the whole of the earliest direction of the Infant's nature, aud the formation of those dispositions which colour the whole future life. It is a beautiful fact in Human Nature, that the Maternal instinct, which manifests itself among the lower animals in the supply of the mere Physical wants of the offspring, extends itself to the sphere of Mental and Moral development: so that the first affections of the infant spring out of its earliest association between its own simple sense of well- being, gradually quickened into happiness, and the personality of the Mother; who in the first instance imparts sustenance and comfort to its body, and who, when this duty has been discharged, delights to call into exercise its powers of observation, to cherish its awakening intelligence, and to minister in every suitable way to its pleasures. This association is formed, and shows itself in the Infant's actions, long before it can have risen into the sphere of distinct consciousness; but the foundation is thus laid for that abiding affection, which, if sustained by judicious culture, as infancy passes into childhood, and childhood into youth and adolescence, makes the link between Mother and Off- spring more enduring than any other. It is the experience of those who have endeavoured to awaken any dormant sense of good, which may not have been crushed-out from the nature of the most hardened Criminals by a life of brutal indulgence in every bad passion, that if they retain any recollection of a Mother's love, thia afforda a loop-hole through which what remains of their better nature may be reached, though the wall of sullenness and obstinacy within which it was shut up may at first seem utterly impenetrable.—The Writer well remembers, at a distance of forty yean, the impression produced on his mind by hearing a case of thia Influence of Maternal Love. 361 kind narrated by Dr. Tuckermann, of Boston, N.E.; a man probably unequalled for hia succesa in the line of action above indicated, which was entirely prompted and guided by his implicit confidence in the principle of Love. But whilst the unconscious influence of Love is essential to the due formation of the affectional part of Child-nature, it is no less important that it should be rightly directed. Nothing is more common among Mothers whose own characters have not been judi- ciously trained, either by their own experience or by the discipline of others, than that indulgence of their children's desires, which, when it grows into a habit, forms both the Physical and the Psychical constitution in accordance with it; so that a " Mechanism of Thought and Feeling" comes to be established, which re-acts in direct response tc the impressions made upon it from without. 291. Every observant Educator must have seen instances in which the same Child has almost seemed two different individuals, accord- ing to the "atmosphere" in which it happens to be. Where a nature originally good and docile has been " spoiled" for a time by injudi- cious indulgence and by irregularity in the habits of the family, and where the child has early been transplanted into a household in which strict rule, judiciously tempered by kindness, has created a more healthy atmosphere, it is wonderful how the whole character Bhapes itself insensibly on an improved model, so long as that atmosphere is breathed ; while it is no less wonderful how rapidly and completely the child falls back into the old ways, when it is again subjected to the old influences, before the improved habits have become ingrained, and it has come to the stage of conscious re- cognition of their superiority.—It is the great advantage of the early establishment of a judicious system of Nursery-management, that the habits formed under its influence make the Child directly connect the well-being of which it is conscious, not merely with the love that gives, but with the love that withholds ; so that by the time the Mother can impress its consciousness with the idea that 362 Of Habit. the truest kindness may consist in the refusal of a gratification, the foundation for the apprehension and recognition of that idea has already been unconsciously laid. And when, with advancing years, this assurance comes to be strengthened, at the same time by Paternal authority, and by the child's own enlarging experience, —when a firm trust has grown up in the loving wisdom and justice of the Father, and in the judicious love of the Mother,—this constitutes the surest basis for the recognition of the like attributes in the dispensations (whether joyous or grievous) of that Infinite Being, whom Theodore Parker used thus to address, "0 God, our Father and our Mother too !" 292. While the early Habits are thus in a great degree determined f)r each individual by the family influences under which he is brought up, he soon comes under those social influences which in a great degree shape the future course of his Mental life,— constituting that aggregate which was designated by the Greeks as the No/xos. This term (sometimes translated " custom" and sometimes " law") may be considered as expressing the custom which lias tlie force of law, and which is often far less easily changed than any written law; becoming so completely in- grained in the Constitution of a People or a Class, as to constitute a "second nature," which only a long course of the " discipline of circumstances " can alter. The following admirable analysis by Mr. Grote of the Greek conception of the Nd/xos, is as applicable to the present time as to the Classical epoch :— " This aggregate of beliefs and predispositions to believe, Ethical, Religious, iEsthetical, Social, respecting what is true or false, probable or improbable, just or unjust, holy or unholy, honourable or base, respectable or contemptible, pure or impure, beautiful or ugly, decent or indecent, obligatory to do or obligatory to avoid, respect- ing the status and relations of each individual in the society, respect- ing even the admissible fashions of amusement and recreation,—thia is an established fact and condition of things, the real origin of which Formation of Mental Habits. 363 ia for the most part unknown, but which each new member of the aociety is born to and finds subsisting. It is transmitted by tradition from parents to children, and is imbibed by the latter almost uncon- sciously from what they see and hear around, without any special season of teaching or special persons to teach. It becomes a part of each person's nature,—a standing habit of mind, or fixed set of mental tendencies, according to which particular experience is interpreted and particular persons appreciated. It is not set forth in systematic proclamations, nor impugned nor defended: it is enforced by a sanction of its own,—the same real sanction or force, in all countries,—by fear of displeasure from the Gods, and by certainty of evil from neighbours or fellow-citizens. The community hate, despise, or deride any individual member who proclaims hia dissent from their social creed, or even openly calls it in question. Their hatred manifests itself in different ways, at different times and occasions ; sometimea by burning or excommunication, sometimes by banishment or interdiction of fire and water; at the very least, by exclusion from that amount of forbearance, goodwill, and estimation, without which the life of an individual becomes in- supportable ; for society, though its power to make an individual happy ia but limited, has complete power, easily exercised, to make him miserable. The orthodox public do not recognize in any individual citizen a right to scrutinize their creed, and to reject it if not approved by his own rational judgment. They expect that he will embrace it in the natural course of things, by the mere force of authority and contagion, as they have adopted it themselves; as they have adopted also the current language, weights, measures, divisiona of time, &c. ' Nomos (Law and Custom), King of all' (to borrow the phrase which Herodotua citea from Pindar), exercises plenary power, spiritual as well aa temporal, over individual minds; moulding the emotions as well as the intellect, according to the local typo,—deter- mining the sentiments, the beliefs, and the predisposition in regard to new matters tendered for belief, of every one,—fashioning thought, speech, points of view, no less than action,—and reigning under the appearance of habitual, self-suggested tendencies."—{Plato and the other Companions of Sokrates, vol. i. p. 249.) 293. It thus becomes extremely difficult—in fact, in most cases, 364 Of Habit. impossible—to discriminate clearly between the tendencies to Thought and Feeling which are shaped by the Nc/zor, and those which grow out of the congenital Constitution,—that constitution having itself (it seems probable) been moulded under the pressure of the like No>°* on the ancestral Race. Some information may doubtless be drawn from the comparison of the diverse mental habits of the several children of the same family, brought up, as nearly as may be, under the same influences. But we find a better evidence of congenital peculiarity in the distinctive characteristics of those who have been very early transplanted from one No'/xos into another of an entirely different character. True it ia that during that earlier period when the general characters of Humanity are evolving themselves, when the observing powers are most active, and the mental development is chiefly sustained by the direct assimilation of the pabulum they afford, the child of one Race readily adapts itself to the habits of another; and, as a general rule, the children of the less civilized races show a remarkable quickness of perception, which sometimes engenders the belief that their capacity is not below our own. But their Intellectual development very commonly stops at a point which leaves them " great children" all their lives; and the special characters of the type then begin to manifest themselves unmistakeably. This is particularly noticeable where the ancestral habits have been nomadic ; the craving for a return to them being often so strong, as to render the restraints of a settled life irksome or even insupportable. Thus the Writer has been informed of several cases in which hoya of the native races of Australia, who have been brought up in Bchoola either in the Colonial capitals or in Britain, and who have Beomed to profit very fairly by the education they have received, and to form attachments to those among whom they have lived, have seized the very earliest opportunity of going off to the " bush" and of rejoining their countrymen.—And the same tendency shows itself Influence of Age on Mental Tendencies. 365 generally in our own " street Arabs," who can only be trained to steady habits by an elastic system of discipline skilfully adapted to their nature ; * the restraints of the ordinary school-system, which are well suited to the children of the settled members of our labouring population, being quite intolerable to those who have been wanderers for generations back. Here, then, we have another very striking instance of that Here- ditary Transmission of acquired tendencies, which would be probably found by careful investigation to be scarcely less clearly manifested among the different Races of Men, than among different Breeds of Dogs (§§ 93, 301). 294. Again, the Psychical tendencies of every individual under- go a consecutive change during the progress of his life, which is quite independent of external influences. Infancy, Childhood, Youth, Adolescence, Adult age, the period of Decline, and Senility, have all their characteristic phases of Mental as of Corporeal development and decline : this being shown, not merely in the general advance of the Intellectual powers up to the period of middle life, and in their subsequent decay ; but in a gradual change in the balance of those springs of action which are furnished by the Emotional states, the pleasures and pains of each period being (to a certain extent) of a different order from those of every ether. This diversity may be in great part attributed to changes in the Physical constitution. Thus, the Sexual feeling which has a most powerful influence on the direc- tion of the thoughts in adolescence, adult age, and middle life, has comparatively little effect at the earlier and later periods * The existence of a distinct Class of this kind, a good deal resembling that ol the Bushmen of the Hottentot country and the Pariahs of India, is well known to those who have investigated the social condition of our Great Cities. It ia continually receiving additions from the degraded members of the class abox e, into which, on the other hand, some of its own are occasionally elevated ; but, if 'eft to itself, it maintains its ground with remarkable persistence, and furnishes a •arge proportion of our professional Criminals. 366 Of Habit. So, again, the thirst for novelty, and the pleasure in mental activity, which so remarkably characterize the young, when contrasted with the obtuseness to new impressions aud the pleasure in tranquil occupations, which mark the decline of life, Beem related to the greater activity of the changes of which the Nervous system is the subject during the earlier part of life, and to its diminished activity as years advance. There are other changes, however, which cannot be so distinctly traced to any Physical source, but which yet are sufficiently constant in their occurrence to justify their being regarded as a part of the developmental history of the Psychical nature; so that each of the " Seven Ages of Man " has its own character, which may be with difficulty defined in words, but which is recog- nized by the appreheusion, as it forces itself upon the experience, of every one. 295. But whilst recognizing, as a fact of observation, the large share which congenital Constitution and external influences have in the formation of those tendencies of Thought and Feeling, which make up the Character of each individual, we must equally rely on the assurance of our own Consciousness, that we have within us a Power, which, if we use it aright, can in great measure control the excesses and supplement the deficiencies of these tendencies, and can direct them to good and useful instead of evil and injurious ends. The strength of this Power, which we term Will, mainly depends upon the constancy with which it is exercised; the ascendancy of principles of action determinately adopted by the Reason, over the strong impulses of passion or desire, being only possible (as will be shown hereafter, § 333), when that ascendancy has been liabitually maintained ; and this not only in the ordinary course of conduct, but in the government of the thoughts. There is, in fact, a continual action and reaction between Habit and Will, in our mental, just as there is in our bodily life. For as, when we train ourselves to execute a parti- Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Tendencies. 367 cular movement, the Bodily mechanism in the first instance shapes itself into accordance with our Will, and then comes to execute the same movement without or even (it may be) against our inten- tion, sc does our Meutal mechanism in the first instance grow to the mode in which the Will exercises it, and then, having taken on a particular method of activity, tends, by the automatic power it has acquired, either to supply a strong motive to the determi- nation of the Will, or to act altogether independently of it (§ 331). 296, Tt is, moreover, by an action and reaction between Habit and Will, similar to that which regulates our conduct, that our Beliefs are determined. For although it is often maintained that, as Belief is in itself involuntary, we are not responsible for what we believe, yet a careful examination of the conditions under which Beliefs are generated, will show that in so far as we volitionally regulate those conditions, we make ourselves to that extent indi- rectly responsible for the Beliefs which automatically spring from them (§§ 321-326). And in the same proportion we become responsible for our share in the direction of that No/ioy, which exerts so powerful an influence on the formation of the Beliefs of the rising generation. 297. But, further, there is strong reason to believe that our power of benefiting the future of our Race by the formation of right Habits of Thought, is not limited to those results which we give to the world, whether by the publication of our opini >ns, or by our conduct in life ; being even more directly exerted in that Hereditary transmission, which the Physiologist cannot but regard as no less evidently manifested in tendencies to Thought, than it is in tendencies to Action. And it will be appropriate, therefore, here briefly to consider this subject; which is one, however, that especially needs all the elucidation that close, prolonged, and extensive study of facts can alone afford. 298. Hereditary Transmission. — The view of the relation of Mental Habits to peculiarities of Bodily organization, whether 19 368 Of Habit. congenital or acquired, which it has been the object of this chapter to develope, must be extended to that remarkable hereditary transmission of Psychical character, which presents itself under circumstances that entirely forbid our attributing it to any agency that can operate subsequently to birth; and which it would seem impossible to account for on any other hypothesis, than that the " formative capacity" of the Germ (§ 274) in great degree determines the subsequent development of the Brain, as of other parts of the body, and (through this) its mode of activity. And this formative capacity, which is the Physiological expres- sion of what is commonly spoken of as the " original constitution " of each individual, is essentially determined by the conditions, dynamical and material, of the Parent-organisms. That "like produces like " is certainly the general rule. For not only do Species maintain their fixity, so long as the continuance of the same external conditions tends to keep up the mode of Life which belongs to each ; but Races, whose origination in varietal modifications of the specific type can be distinctly traced his- torically, often display a scarcely inferior permanence. It is, therefore, by a limitation of this general rule, that Family or Individual peculiarities do not tend to reproduce themselves in anything like the same degree ; and the explanation of that limitation seems to lie in the fact, that while the characters of Species or of Races express the most general and constant of those influences which tend to produce varietal modifications, those of Families or Individuals express influences of far inferior range, and of far less duration. In particular, it is to be noted that while the more general characters are shared by both parents, the more special commonly belong to one only.—A great deal of dis cussion has taken place, as to whether the Male or the Female parent exerts the greater influence over the character of the offspring; and while experience does not yet justify any definite conclusion on this point, the question seems to have been Hereditary Transmission ofAcquirea Tendencies. 369 entirely ignored, whether the union of two different natures may not produce—as in the combination of an acid and a base—a rrsultant essentially dissimilar to either of them. 299. This much, however, may be confidently affirmed, that where general Constitutional taints, that is to say, abnormal habitudes of Nutrition, have been acquired, these tend to pro- pagate themselves hereditarily ; and that they do so with the most certainty, when both parents partake of them. It may also be affirmed that every repetition of such transmission tends to increase the mischief; so that by " breeding in and in," the injurious external conditions remaining the same, a very slight original departure from healthy nutrition may become intensified in successive generations into a most serious abnormality. Of this we have an example in the production of Cretinism, which may be characterized as Idiocy combined with bodily deformity. (This is not essentially connected, as some have supposed, with Goitre ; for iC presents itself in some localities where goitre does not prevail, whilst elsewhere goitre prevails without developing itself into cretinism. But in the Vallais of the Alps, the con- ditions of the two appear concurrent; and the result of their conjoint action through a succession of generations becomes most distressingly apparent.)—There is one class of cases, moreover, in which a particular abnormal form of Nutrition that is dis- tinctly acquired by the individual, exerts a most injurious influence upon the offspring;—that, namely, which is the result of such habitual Alcoholic excess, as modifies tlie nutrition of the Nervous system (§§ 138, 155). a. We have a far larger experience of the results of habitual Alcoholic excoss, than we have in regard to any other "Nervine Stimulant;" and all such experience is decidedly in favour of the hereditary transmission of that acquired perversion of the normal Nutrition which it has engendered in the individual. That this manifests itself sometimes in congenital Idiocy, sometimes in a predisposition to 37o Of Habit. Insanity, which requires but a very slight exciting cauae to develop it, and sometimes in a strong craving for Alcoholic drinks, which the unhappy subject of it strives in vain to resist, ia the concurrent testimony of all who have directed their attention to the inquiry. Thua Dr. Howe, in hia Report on the Statistics of Idiocy in Massa- chusetts, states that the habits of the parents of 300 idiots having been learned, 145, or nearly one half, were found to be habitual drunkards. In one instance, in which both parents were drunkards, seven idiotic children were born to them. Dr. Down, whose experi- ence of Idiocy is greater than that of any other man in this country, has assured the Writer that he does not consider Dr. Howe's state- ment as at all exaggerated. Dr. W. A. F. Browne, the first Medical Lunacy Commissioner for Scotland, thus wrote when himself in charge of a large Asylum:—"The drunkard not only injures and enfeebles his own nervou8 system, but entails mental disease upon hia family. Hia daughtera are nervou8 and hysterical; hia sons are weak, wayward, eccentric, and sink under the pressure of excitement of some unforeseen exigency, or the ordinary calls of duty." Dr. Howe remarks that the children of drunkarda are deficient in bodily and vital energy, and are predisposed by their very organization to have cravings for Alcoholic stimulants. If they pursue the course of their fathers, which they have more temptation to follow, and less power to avoid, than the children of the temperate, they add to their hereditary weakness, and increase the tendency to Idiocy or Insanity in their constitution; and thia they leave to their children after them. The experiences of those who, like Hartley Coleridge, have inherited the craving for Alcoholic excitement, together with the weakness of Will which makes them powerless to resist it, whilst all their better nature prompts the struggle, must satisfy any one who carefully weighs them, how closely connected their Psychical state is with the Physical constitution which they inherit, and how small is their own moral responsibility for errors which are mainly attributable to the faults of their progenitors. As Robert Collyer (of Chicago) has well said in an admirable sermon on " The thorn in the flesh:"—"In the far-reaching influenced that go to every life, and away backward as certainly as forward, children are sometimes born with appetites fatally strong in their nature. As they grow up, the appetite grows with them, and speedily becomes a master, the master Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Tendencies. 371 a tyrant, and by the time he arrives at his manhood the man is a slave. I heard a man say that for eight-and-twenty years the aoul within him had had to 6tand, like an unsleeping sentinel, guarding his appetite for strong drink. To be a man at last under such a disadvantage, not to mention a saint, is aa fine a piece of grace as can well be seen. There is no doctrine that demands a larger vision than this of the depravity of human nature. Old Dr. Mason used to say that as much grace as would make John a saint, would barely keep Peter from knocking a man down." 300. With such evidence of the Hereditary Transmission of general diatheses, or modes of Nutrition, of which we can distinctly trace the acquirement in the history of the progenitor, we seem fully justified in applying the same doctrine to such particular habits as may be regarded, from the Physiologist's point of view in the light of expressions of special modifications of Nervous organization. A very curious example of the transmission of tendencies to special Automatic movements, the secondary acquirement of which tendencies is altogether beyond doubt, ia afforded by the following curious fact established by the researches of M. Brown-Soquard:—In the course of his masterly experimental investigations on the functions of the Nervous system, he discovered that, after a particular lesion of the Spinal cord of Guinea-pigs, a slight pinching of the skin of the face would throw the animals into a kind of Epileptic convulsion. That this artificial Epilepsy should be conatantly producible in Guinea- pigs, and not in any other animals experimented on, waa in itself sufficiently singular; and it wa8 not less surprising that the tendency to it persisted, after the lesion of the Spinal cord seemed to have been entirely recovered from. But it was far more wonderful that when these epileptic Guinea-pigs bred together, their offspring showed the same predisposition, without having been themselves Bubjected to any lesion whatever; whilst no such tendency showed itself in any of the large number of young, which were bred by the same accurate observer from parents that had not thus been operated on. 372 Of Habit. 301. The same view may be extended to that higher clasfi of secondarily automatic actions, which can only be performed under the guidance of Sensation, and which therefore involve some Psychical change in each case, as one of the links in the sequence. For as it is impossible not to recognize the influence of Habit,— that is to say of the Voluntary repetition of similar acts under similar circumstances,—in establishing a condition of the Nervous apparatus which leads to the Automatic performance of such acts, it is conformable to all Physiological probability that a tendency to them should be hereditarily transmitted. a. " On what a curious combination of corporeal structure, mental character, and training," says Mr. Darwin, "must handwriting depend! Yet every one must have noted the occasional close eimilarity of the handwriting in father and son, although the father had not taught his son. A great collector of franks assured me that in his collection there were several franks of father and son hardly distinguishable except by their dates. Hofacker, in Germany, remarka on the inheritance of handwriting; and it has been even asserted that English boys, when taught to write in France, naturally cling to their English manner of writing." b. The Writer has been assured by Miss Cobbe, that in her family a very characteristic type of handwriting is traceable through five generations. c. The following case which occurred in the Writer's own family, and which (he is assured) can be exactly paralleled elsewhere, indicates the " constitutional" character of handwriting :—A gentleman who emigrated to the United States, and settled in the backwoods, before the end of last century, was accustomed from time to time to write long letters to his sister in England, giving an account of his family affairs. Having lost his right arm by an accident, the correspond- ence was temporarily kept up by one or other of his children; but in the course of a few months he learned to write with his left hand; and, before long, the handwriting of the letters thus written came to be indistinguishable from that of hie former letters. d. Again, there are some "nervous" men who always seem to require to do something with their hands when they are speaking Hereditary Transmission of Acquired Tendencies. $72, earnestly; and what particular "trick" each individual may learn, depends very much upon accident. Thus, in the old times of depen- dent watch-chaina and massive bunches of seals, these were the readiest playthings; and now that watches are commonly worn in the waistcoat pocket, the hands of such persons may often be seen unconsciously stealing upwards to "twiddle" with their watch- keys.—There is a well-known story of a barrister who acquired the " trick " of winding and unwinding a piece of string on his fingera when addressing the court, and who was thrown into confusion when the opposing counsel stole "the thread of his discourse."—Not long 6ince, when listening to a very interesting extempore sermon, the Writer observed that the preacher was continually opening and shutting his Bible, and shifting it from side to side of the pulpit; this being probably a mere "trick" of which the preacher was quite unconscioua, and the Bible merely supplying the place of the bunch of seals, the watch-key, or the bit of string, in giving his " idle hands" something "to do."—Such "tricks," like particular "gestures " indicative of Emotional excitement, are often repeated in successive generations, under circumstances that forbid the idea of their having been learned by imitation. 302. The case seems to be even stronger in regard to drawing, and to playing on Musical instruments ; for it seenu quite certain that the power of attaining Artistic proficiency in eithei, and the readi- ness with which it is acquired, depends in great degree upon con- genital Temperament. No doubt every child may be taught to draw, or to play a musical instrument, after a certain fashion : but there are some whom no teaching or self-effort will ever carry beyond a certain mechanical exactness ; whilst there are others who " take to " drawing or to musical performance as their natural language, and who, with very little instruction, learn to express themselves in either with singular force and beauty. J The Writer knows one family in which this Artistic temperament 1 is widely diffused; the several members of it almost always " taking " either to Drawing or to Music, and sometimes to both. On the other hand, he knows other cases, in which, with a considerable acquired 374 Of Habit. interest (rather Intellectual, however, than Artistic) both in Pictorial and Musical art, and with considerable manual dexterity (as shown in other ways), there is a greatly-regretted inability to acquire any- thin 77 of Will—at least in the sense in which it is here defined. For we have seen that, even in Man, intellectual operations of a high order may go on automatically, —one state of consciousness calling forth another in strict accordance with the "laws of thought," without any Volitional interference (§ 216) ; and also that idea- tional as well as emotional states may express themselves in Muscular action, not only without any exertion of the Will, but even in opposition to it (§ 240). And this will hereafter become Btill more obvious, when we investigate the phenomena of those abnormal states in which the Will is in more or less complete abeyance (Chaps. XIV. XV.).—Now if, under the light afforded by this principle, we carefully study the actions of even those among brutes whose nature has been most completely shaped into accord- ance with that of Mau by habitual association with him, we see that they afford no indication of the existence of any other spring, than the Idea or Feeling with which the mind of the animal may be at the moment possessed ; in this respect corresponding closely with those of the young Child, in whom the power of self-control has not yet come into exercise, and whose conduct is entirely determined by the " preponderance of motives." * a. Thus a Dog which is fondly attached to its master, and awaits his return home with pleasurable anticipation, at once runs to meet * Exception has been taken to this phrase, on the ground that Motives are of Buch different orders as not to be commensurable in force ; and that we have no other ground for the estimation of their relative strength, than the actual pre- ponderance of one aggregate when weighed against the other. But it seems to be forgotten that this is our only criterion of the relative weights {i. e. of the forces of downward attraction) of any different material substances—e. g. lead and feathers; and that no one disputes its applicability in the case of moral evidence, in which the cons:derations for or against any particular proposition are at least as diverse in kind as the motives inclining us to or from any paiiicular action. We say that our judgment is determined pro or con. by the way in which the "balance of evidence" inclines; and when, as sometimes happens, the verdict of a jury is given against what an impartial judge considers to be the "preponderance of evidence," it is because some motive has swayed their decision, which ought not to have been admitted into the scale. 378 Of the Will. him on hearing his voice or his step, and manifests its delight in seeing him by expressive movements. But if the dog is conscious of having done something at which its master will be displeased, it «links away and tries to keep out of his sight. 6. The whole system of "training" a dog or a horse, like the early education of a child, consists in bringing such " motives" to bear upon it, as are adapted to its " nature." A creature that haa no capacity for loving right or hating wrong for its own sake, can only be made to comprehend that certain actions will bring reward, certain others punishment. And the direction of its conduct ia clearly determined by the preponderance of such motives. Thus if a dog or a child which has a propensity to thieve, be punished in the first instance by a slight castigation, the deterrent influence of the prospective repetition of that punishment may be outweighed by the attractive influence of a tempting bonne bouche, and the offence may be repeated; the infliction of a sufficiently severe punishment, however, will then serve as a deterrent; and so long as the memory of the punishment remains vivid, this will continue effective against a temptation of like strength, although it may be overborne by a yet stronger attraction. c. The well-known lines of Dr. Watts, commencing "Let dogs delight to bark and bite," embody, as it seems to the Writer, the true idea of the relation of the self-determining power to the auto- matic tendenciea. When "bears and lions growl and fight," it ia because "it is their nature to;" they cannot make themselves other than they are; and we can only mould them to our wills, by bring- ing to bear upon them a motive strong enough to restrain their own automatic impulses. But when we urge our children not to "let their angry passions rise," it ia because we believe that they can acquire, if they can be led to try hard enough, the independent self- regulating power which we are ourselves conscious of exercising. 307. Now the Man in full possession of his Volitional power cau use it (1) in giving bodily effect to his mental decision, by either putting in action the Muscles which will execute the movement he has determined-on, or by restraining them from the action to which they are prompted by some other impulse; and (2) in controlling and directing that succession of Mental operations, by Voluntary and Involuntary Movements. 3 79 which the determination is arrived at.—In the prosecution of our enquiry as to the mechanism of Mental self-direction, we shall frid ourselves greatly aided by the indications we may draw from the study of the mode in which the Will operates on the Bodily organism.—The distinction between voluntary and involuntary movements, is recognized by every Physiologist; but it has been customary to assign these characters to the muscles by which certain of these two classes of movements are respectively performed. Thus the Heart, the Muscular coat of the Stomach and Intestines, the Iris, &c, are said to be " involuntary" muscles, because no intentional effort of the conscious Ego can either excite or check their contractions, although some of them may be acted on by Emotional states. On the other hand, the muscles of our limbs are termed "voluntary," because we can use them to carry out the purposive determinations of the Will. But the muscles which are concerned in the act of Respiration, are both " volun- tary " and " involuntary;" for while the ordinary movements of breathing are as " automatic" as are those of the Heart, we yet have a certain measure of Volitional control over them, by which we can regulate their actions in subservience to the purposes of Speech. And, further, there is not a single one of the so-called "voluntary" muscles, which may not be automatically thrown into violent contraction (as in cramp or tetanus), which the Will vainly attempts to restrain ; whilst a large part of their ordinary sequential actions are performed " mechanically," without anything more than an initiation by the Will, which, though it can clieck them at any time, is not exercised in constantly sustaining them (§§ 16, 17J.—Hence we see that the distinction between voluntary and involuntary Muscles is good only to this extent, that there are certain muscles which are entirely removed from the control of the Will, their contractions being altogether involuntary; while the actions of all others may be either voluntary or involun- tary, according as they are called into exercise by the Will, 38o Of the Will. or by an automatic prompting of which we may or may not be conscious. And we must, therefore, look highei—that is, to the sources and the channels of the Nerve-force that excites the Muscles to contraction,—for the real distinction between their several modes of activity. 308. It has been shown that the development of Nerve-force, whatever may be the mode in which it manifests itself, dependw upon a reaction between the Nervous substance (especially its vesicular form) and the circulating Blood (§§ 40—42). And this Blood has a double function ; for, on the one hand, it supplies the material at the expense of which the Nerve-substance is formed, or rather forms itself, by Nutritive action, and so, as it were, lays up a store of potential energy; whilst, on the other, it supplies the Oxygen, by the action of which upon the Nerve-substance (as in the oxidation of the zinc-element of the galvanic battery) this potential energy is converted into actual energy. Of this conversion we have the most conspicuous example in the production of the Nerve-force which calls forth Muscular movement, and its trans- mission along the motor nerves ; this production and transmission beino- extremely analogous to that generation of an Electric current, which takes place in a Galvanic apparatus of battery and wires, immediately that the circuit is closed. Now the ordinary state of activity of the Nervous system would seem to correspond closely with that of a moderately-charged Electric battery, which can be discharged by the completion of the circuit; this discharge relieving the tension for the moment, until it is restored by the chemical reaction between the blood and the ganglionic substance. And as there is strong reason to believe that the amount of the Nerve-force generated stands in no less direct a relation than the strength of the Electric current to the activity of that reaction, it is obvious that this, in its turn, will essentially depend on the amount of oxygenated blood which is allowed to pass through the capillaries of the ganglionic substance. It will be hereafter shown Relation of Nerve-force to Blood-sitpply. 381 that a reduced supply of Blood, which may be attributed with great probability to contraction of the Arteries supplying the Brain, called forth by the Vaso-motor system of nerves, is the essential condition of Sleep, as of other states of inactivity of the Sensorial centres (§§ 472, 473) in which the ordinary stimuli call forth no response. On the other hand, we have a yet stronger assurance in the phenomena of morbid excess of activity in the Brain or Spinal cord, that an enlargement of the Arterial trunks, ind an increase in the quantity of Blood which passes through me Capillaries — constituting the state termed hyperemia — becomes tho cause of an augmented tension of the Nerve-centres ; bo that they are much more easily called into action by slight stimuli, aud discharge themselves with greater force; whilst the tension may increase to such a degree, that a spontaneous Centric discharge takes place, analogous to that of an overcharged Leyden jar.—Under the guidance of this clue, it seems possible to arrive at a tolerably distinct conception of the nature of the Physical antecedence of every kind of Nervo-muscular action, from tho simple Excito-motor up to the Volitional. 309. Starting, then, with the act of Coughing, as one which may be either reflex, centric, or volitional, it is to be re- marked that the very same Muscles are employed in executing it, and that they are co-ordinated in the very same manner (presumably, therefore, by the same mechanism), whether the impulse to cough originates in an irritation of the lining membrane of the air-passages, or arises from a hyperemia of the Ile3piratory ganglion, or is produced by an act of Will (§ 17). la tho former case, the gradual increase of the feeling of irritation excited by the impression conveyed to the ganglion by the afferent * nerve, may be considered to represent a progressively augmenting tension of that centre, which, when it arrives at a certain strength, discharges itself in motor nerve-force ; just as a Leyden jar that is being gradually charged by an electrical machine, discharges itself, 382 Of the Will. if fitted with a " discharging electrometer," so soon as its electric tension has risen to the degree to which the electrometer is ad- justed. This discharge of nerve-force will take place in spite of the strongest Volitional effort to restrain it; and immediately that it has occurred, the feeling of irritation subsides for a time, to return again by gradual accumulation, and again to relieve itself in the same manner. But sometimes (as in Hooping-cough) it ia clear that there is, combined with the local irritation, an unduly excitable state of the Respiratory nerve-centres, so that a very small stimulus shall call forth a most violent paroxysm of coughing; and this, it can scarcely be doubted, is the expression of a hypercemic state of their ganglionic substance. In the later or "spasmodic" stage of that malady, after the local irritation has subsided altogether, the paroxysmal cough is still kept up by the hypersemic state of the centres, producing spontaneous discharges of nerve-force, each relieving its tension for a time. 310. Ascending to those centres whose action is more intimately related to Mental states, we seem able to recognize so intimate a connection between the Nervous tension which expresses itself in muscular movement, and the state of Mental attention (Chap. III.), that the two may be fairly regarded as dependent on the same Physical antecedent,—a hypercemia of the particular centre whose activity is thus exalted, resulting from the regulative action of the Vaso-motor system of nerves on the Muscular walls of the Arteries. Thus, when we are intently listening for some sound, we not only hear distinctly what might be otherwise inaudible to us, but we start when it occurs ; and, if any strong Emotion be connected with the sound, not only is our sensorial perception quickened, but the involuntary start is more violent. —This, again, points to the same locally-augmented afflux of blood to the centres of emotional action, as an essential condition of Emotional excite- ment ; a view which corresponds well with the known effects of Emotion upon the local Circulation, as is shown in the act of Relation of Nerve-force to Blood-supply. 383 blushing, and, still more remarkably, in the modification which Emotional excitement produces in the Secretions (§§ 565, 566).— The same view, again, will apply to Ideational states; for, as has been shown, these states, when excited with sufficient intensity, express themselves in movements which the Will vainly endeavours to restrain (§§ 235, el seq.),—these movements being particularly violent and uncontrollable, when the Ideas in which they originate are accompanied by strongly excited Feelings (§§ 258, 259). It may, therefore, be fairly inferred that the intensity of any ideational state is the expression of the hyperaemic condition of some particular part of the Cerebrum, as that of a sensational state is of a hyperaemic condition of some part of the Sensorium.—An Ideational hyperemia, or determination of blood to some part of the Cerebral convolutions, may discharge itself either (1) in calling-forth a directly respondent Movement, by stimulating the motor centres through the descending fibres of the medullary substance, or (2) by exciting a like Ideational hyper- aemia in some other part of the Cerebral convolutions, through the commissural fibres, or (3) by calling up Sensorial states similar to those primarily excited by sense-impressions. Of the first of these modes of discharge, we have an example in such ideo-motor actions as the yawning that is producible in a pre- disposed subject by the mere verbal suggestion of the idea; the Becond is that which may be presumed to operate in the suggestive maintenance of every " train of thought;" whilst the third is the Bource of those truly " subjective sensations " which are generated by ideational states (§§ 141—150).—Now as we have it in our own power, by the Volitional act of Attention, to intensify any of these states, it seems probable that the physiological condition of that intensification must be the increase of the local hyperemia in the nervous centre or part of a nervous centre which is its instru- ment, through the agency of the Vaso-motor system of nerves. 311. Carrying back our inquiry, now, to the nature of the 384 Of the Will. Cerebral change which initiates a Volitional action, we find reason for attributing this also to a local hyperoemia of some part of that cortical layer which constitutes the instrument of Ideation. For all Volitional action, it will be remembered, is based on an idea of what is to be done (§ 305), whether this have reference to Bodily movements, or to Mental exertion. And it seems clear that the same Vaso-motor action which is the condition of the state of attention to that idea, will, if exerted to produce a still greater local hyperemia, give effect to it in a spontaneous motorial dis- charge. And thus we are led to regard the immediate source of ideo-motor and of volitional movements as the same; and the Volitional effort as really exerted in augmenting the nervous ten- sion of the part of the cortical substance of the Cerebrum, which is concerned in the formation of the Idea of the thing to be done. This doctrine finds a remarkable confirmation in two orders of facts;—(1) that there is practically every gradation between those voluntary actions, which (under permission of the Will) simply express dominant ideas, and those actions which proceed from distinct and cogent volitional determinations;—and (2) that emotional states have a most powerful influence either in augmenting or in diminishing the motor force which the Will can call forth (§§ 266—268). For the known influence of the Emotions on the Vaso-motor system of nerves, and the manner in which they intensify those Ideational states which express themselves in movement, afford a strong indication that they exert their effect on Volitional action by increasing the local hyperaemia of the cortical substance. And this conclusion will be shown to derive yet stronger confirmation from the remark- able result of Dr. Ferrier's recent experiments. (See Appendix.) —The restraining influence of the Will on bodily movement (as when we make an effort to stifle a cough, to resist a yawn, to repress laughter, or to keep down the expression of some passionate impulse) seems really to consist in putting the antagonist Muscles Mechanism of Volitional Movement. 385 into action ; aud we experience just the same sense of effort in doing this, that we do in trying to stop a horse that is running away, or to check the rotation cf a wheel. 312. Now the strongest Volitional effort may be inoperative, through some defect of the apparatus by which the Nerve-force ia transmitted to the muscles which are to execute the behests of the J Will; as happens in paralysis. But there are states of absolute Incapacity for such effort; the mental desire existing, while 'he energy needed to carry it into effect is deficient. That this incapa city arises from deficient supply of blood to the ideational (Cere- bral) nerve-centre, appears probable from the familiar fact, that a general deficiency of Volitional power over the muscles is a marked feature of the physical depression which betokens feebleness of the circulation, being especially noticeable in sea-sickness; while a defect in the distributive action of the Vaso-motor system of nerves (such as that of which we have evidence in many local congestions) might very well account for such cases as the two following, which are recorded by Professor J. H. Bennett {Mesmeric Mania of 1851) on the authority of Sir Robert Christison :— a. " The first waa that of a gentleman who frequently could not carry out what he wished to perform. Often, on endeavouring to un- dress, he waa two hours before he could get off his coat, all his mental faculties, Volition excepted, being perfect. On one occasion, having ordered a glass of water, it was presented to him on a tray, but he could not take it, though anxious to do so; and he kept the servant standing before him half an hour, when the obstruction was overcome." b. "In the other case the peculiarity was limited. If, when walking in the street, this individual came to a gap in the line of houses, his will suddenly became inoperative, and he could not proceed. An unbuilt-on space in the street was sure to stop him. Crossing a street also was very difficult; and on going in or out of a door, he was always arrested for some minutes. Both these gontlemen graphically described their feelings to be ' As if another person had taken possession of their will.' "—(The Mesmeric Mania of 1851, p. 16.) 386 Of the Will. This state seems akin to that form of hysterical paralysis, in which the defect lies not so much in the want of power, as in the want of that belief in tlie possession of the power, which is essential to its exercise (§ 26^). A strong motive will here sometimes take the place of Volition; and no motive is so efficacious, as that confident expectation of cure, which is awakened either by Religious faith, or by the belief in the occult powers of Mesmerism, Spiritualism, &c. Thus it has been that numberless pseudo-miracles have been worked on patients of this class by Religious Enthusiasts; whilst they furnish to Mesmerists and Spiritualists the subjects of " wonderful cures,'' effected by the agencies which they profess to wield.—Such cases are peculiarly interesting to the Psycho- logist, from their parallelism to those in which there is a like suspension of volitional control over the course of Thought (§ 454). Section 2.—Influence of the Will on Mental Action. 313. Now since, according to the view which it has been the special purpose of this Treatise to develope, the relation of the Will to mental is essentially the same as that which it has to bodily action, the measure of its exertion will be the sense oj effort which we experience, in intentionally exciting, directing, or restraining any particular form of mental activity. It has been already pointed out (Chap. III.) that the Attention may be involuntarily fixed upon certain states of consciousness, through the attraction they exert upon the individual Mind, in virtue either of its original constitution, or of its acquired habitudes; and further that this attraction determines much of the automatic action of our faculties (§ 228). When most strongly exerted, it causes the consciousness to be so completely engrossed by one train of ideas, that the mind is, for the time, incapable of any other ideational change : external impressions on the Sensorium, either Dot being perceived at all (the individual being as insensible to Power of the Will over Attention. 387 them as if he were in a profound sleep), or not giving rise to any Cerebral action (§ 124). — But these automatic tendencies of the Mind may be to a certain extent antagonized by the Will, which keeps them in check (just as it restrains many of the automatic impulses to bedily movement) by the special powrer which it exerts over the Attention. This it can detach from subjects which have at the time the greatest attractiveness for it, and can forcibly direct it to others from which their attraction would otherwise divert it. And in its most complete and powerful exercise (which is not within the capacity of every one), it can so entirely limit the Mind to one train of thought, that the state of Abstraction induced by the Will may be as complete as that which in some individuals is of spontaneous occurrence (§ 446). 314. Now when our current of Thought is flowing-on smoothly and uninterruptedly, we are no more conscious of effort than we are in the act of breathing; in fact, an effort may be required either to check the current, or to turn it into another channel But so soon as a difficulty or obstruction arises,—as when the Mathematician finds a "hitch" in his computations, the Poet wants a phrase to complete his verse, or the Lawyer does not see his way through some intricacy in his " case,"—the Will is called into play to overcome it, by determinately projecting the Mind in search (as it were) of the desiderated idea So, when the Attention is distracted, either by some sense-impression, or by the intrusion of some inappropriate idea or feeling, we have to " make an effort " to keep it fixed upon our " train of thouofit " the degree of that conscious effort being the measure of our Volitional exertion. And the same is the case when Cerebral fatigue weakens the hold of even an attractive subject; and we have to force ourselves to keep our attention fixed upon it, so as to complete the task we may have set ourselves to perform. 315. In proportion as we are able thus to concentrate our Attention on the subject proper to the time, and to exclude all 388 Of the Will. distracting considerations whilst pursuing the trains of thought which the contemplation of it suggests, will be our power of advantageously employing our Intellectual Faculties in the acquirement of Knowledge and in the pursuit of Truth; and all men who have been distinguished by their Intellectual achievements, have possessed this faculty in a considerable degree. It is one which is " eminently capable of cultivation by Bteady intention of mind and habitual exercise;" and the more frequently it is put in practice, the easier the exercise becomes. In fact, when a man has once brought his Intellectual faculties under the mastery of his Will, to such an extent as to induce the state of Abstraction whenever he pleases, this state becomes secondarily automatic; and the fixed direction of the thoughts, which at first required a constant volitional effort for its main- tenance, comes to be continued witlwut any consciousness of exertion, so long as the Will may permit.—We have in our own consciousness of effort, and in our experience of subsequent fatigue, a very strong indication that the power which thus controls and directs the current of thought, is of the same kind with that which calls forth Volitional contraction in the muscles, though exerted in a different mode. And just as the strongest exertion of Will is required to produce or sustain muscular contraction, either when the sense of muscular fatigue is already strongly experienced, or when we are antagonizing a powerful automatic impulse, so in the determination of Mental effort in a particular direction, we find ourselves necessitated to make the greatest Volitional exertion, when we are already labouring under the sense of Cerebral fatigue, or when the attention is powerfully solicited by some other attractive object. And it is after any such contest m'th our natural tendencies, that we experience the greatest degree cf exhaustion ; the merely automatic action of the Mind, which is attended with no 3ffort, being followed by comparatively little fatigue. Volitional Direction of Course of Thought. 389 The Writer is satisfied from his own experience, that a most Valuable indication may be hence drawn, in regard to the regulation of the habita of Intellectual labour. To individuals of ordinary mental activity who have been trained in the habit of methodical and connected thinking, a very considerable amount of work is quite r ntural; and when such persons are in good bodily health, and the sulject of their labour is congenial to them,—especially if it be one that has been chosen by themselves, aa furnishing a centre of attraction around which their thoughts spontaneously tend to range themselves,—their intellectual operations require but little of the controlling or directing power of the will, and may be continued for long periods together without fatigue. But from the moment when an indisposition is experienced to keep the attention fixed upon the subject, and the thoughts wander from it unless coerced by the Will, the mental activity loses its spontaneous or automatic charac- ter; and (as in the act of walking, § 16) more effort is required to maintain it volitionally during a brief period, and more fatigue ia subsequently experienced from such exertion, than would be involved in the continuance of an automatic operation through a period many times aa long. Hence he has found it practically the greatest economy of Mental labour, to work vigorously when he feels disposed to do so, and to refrain from exertion, so far as possible, when it is felt to be an exertion.—Of course this rule ia by no means universally applicable; for there are many individuala who would pasa their whole time in listless inactivity, if not actually spurred-on by the feeling of necessity. But it holds good for those who are sufficiently attracted by objects of interest before them, or who have in their worldly position a sufficiently strong motive to exertion, to make them feel that they must work; the question with them being, how they can attain their desired results with the least expenditure of mental effort (§ 228). 316. In the foregoing instances we are distinctly conscious of the Volitional effort, because there is a struggle between opposing ten- dencies. But there are many other cases in which the guidance of the Will is exercised so gently, that we are only aware of its exer- cise when our attention is drawn to its effects. Thus, as already pointed out, whilst the movements of Respiration are essentially 390 Of the Will. automatic (being probably altogether so in most of the lower animals), they are in Man so far under the control of his Will, that he can utilize them for the purposes of speech; and yet, unless an un- usually severe or long-continued strain is put upon the vocal organs, requiring an actual effort for its sustentation, we are not aware that during all the time we have been speaking, we have been interfering by a^n act of Will with the automatic uniformity of our respiratory movements.—Now this has its precise counterpart in Mental action; for the determining power of Volition is employed, in however slight a degree, whenever the succession of thought is not perfectly spontaneous,—whenever, in fact, we purposely guide its course in any particular direction, even for the apprehension of ideas most familiar to us. Thus, as will be shown hereafter (§ 372), all determinate Recollection involves the exercise of volitional control over the direction of tlie thoughts; and hence, if this control be sus- pended, and the mind be left to its own automatic activity, the power of recalling even the most familiar ideas is completely annihilated. So, again, tlie determinate exercise of the Judgment, which involves the comparison of ideas, can only take place under the guidance of the Will; which selects those which are appropriate, and brings them into collocation with each other (§ 227). And it is the readiness with which this process is usually performed, which constitutes the source of that Common Sense, whereon we rely in the ordinary conduct of life (Chap. XL). But we cannot use this test, even in the simplest case, without a Volitional selec- tion from among the records of our experience, of that which may be brought into comparison with the idea whose validity is to bo tried. The simple credulity of the Child depends upon his having 'no stock of experience upon which to fall back, for the correcti o of the erroneous notions which he may himself form, or which may be imparted to him by others. But the deficiency of Common Sense, which we occasionally meet-with in grown-up Men and Women, depends, not so much upon the want of experience, as on the Volitional Direction of Course of Thought. 391 want of power to profit by it; their minds not having been duly trained in that volitional exercise, wdiich, when it once comes to be habitual, is performed with so slight an effort that it is scarcely perceptible even to ourselves. Slight as this effort may be, how- ever, it is the one thing needful; and it may be unhesitatingly laid down, that, if tlie directing power of the Will be entirely suspended, the capability of correcting the most illusory ideas by an appeal to Common Sense is for the time annihilated. 317. Of this we have a typical example, familiar to every one, in the state of Dreaming (§ 482) : which is a condition of Auto- matic mental activity, usually of an irregular kind ; the combina- tions and successions of Ideas being often of the most extraordi- nary character, and inconsistent not merely with our most familiar experience, but also with each other. Yet, as has been most truly remarked, nothing surprises us in dreams. We are never struck with the impossibility of the events which we seem to witness; but we accept as genuine, with child-like simplicity, all the wonderful combinations which successively rise to our conscious- ness.—The same must be the case in any state of mental activity in which there is a similar abrogation of Volitional control: and the records of "absence of mind" (§ 445) afford abundant examples of the absurd incongruities which occur, when the Will is temporarily prevented by the mental preoccupation from summoning Common Sense to check the ideas which external impressions suggest; while those of Insanity, in which there is a persistent deficiency in the power of self-direction of the thoughts, show that no belief is too absurd to be accepted, however inconsis- tent with the most direct and most constant experience (§ 559).— Hence wc see that if the Mind should lose for a time all power of Volitional self-direction, it cannot recall any fact, even the most familiar, that is beyond its immediate grasp ;—its attention being engrossed with the idea that may be before it for the moment, no iucongruity prevents that idea from presenting itself with all the 20 392 Of the Will. vividness of reality;—it cannot bring any notion with which it may be possessed to the test of " Common Sense," but must accept it as a belief, if it be impressed on the consciousness with adequate force;—it cannot shake off the yoke of any "dominant idea" however tyrannical, but must execute its behests. 318. We have, now, however, to consider a much more obscure question,—namely, the nature of that self-determining agency to which we give the name of Will. Is it, as some think, the mere resultant of the general (spontaneous or automatic) activity of the Mind, and dependent, like it, upon Physical antecedents % Or is it a Power, which, being completely independent of these conditions, is capable of acting against the preponderance of motives ?—as if, when one scale of a balance is inclining downwards, a hand placed on the beam from which the other scale is suspended, were to cause that lighter scale to go down. 319. Now that the Will is something essentially different from the general resultant of the automatic activity of the Mind, appears to the Writer to be proved, notmerely by the evidence of our own con- sciousness of the possession of a se{/'-determining power (Chap. I.), but by observation of the striking contrasts which are continually presented in abnormal states of Mind, between the automatic activity and the power of volitional control. For, in the first place, it is the special attribute of all " nervine stimulants," such as Alcohol, Opium, and Hachisch, as well as of those morbid poisons which induce Delirium, to exalt the automatic activity of the Mind, while diminishing the power of volitional control; and this not only relatively but absolutely. A most instructive example of this general fact is furnished by the description given by Dr. Moreau of his own experience in regard to the Hachisch (§ 537) ; and the " Confessions of an English Opium-eater" exhibit fche same characteristic phenomena (§ 542). Moreover, the con- tinual use of these stimulants has a manifest tendency to produce a permanent weakening of the Volitional power (§ 543), which often Volitional Direction of Course of Thought. 393 shows itself hereditarily even where the offspring have not them- selves given way to the habit (§ 299 a). We have seen that the whole mental life of Coleridge was one of singular automatic activity (§231), whilst there was a no less marked deficiency in the power of volitional self-direction; and there can be little doubt that this deficiency, probably constitutional in the first instance, was aggravated by the habitual use of the nervine stimulants which augmented the automatic activity of his Psychical nature.—But, further, the complete suspension of the power of volitionally direct- ing the current of thought and feeling, will be shown to be the essential feature, not merely of the states of Dreaming and Delirium, but also of natural and induced Reverie, and of natural and in- duced Somnambulism ; while the weakening of that power, usually in concurrence with an exaltation of some Emotional tendency, is the special characteristic of Insanity. The variety of phases which these different states present, ia chiefly dependent upon the following conditiona:—(1) The relative degree in which the Mind is in a state of receptivity for external impres- sions, or is attending only to what passes within itself; (2) the degree in which the coherence of the successive states is maintained by preformed Associations ; and (3) the degree in which the normal operation of the Intellectual faculties is disturbed by Emotional excitement, either general, or limited to one class of feelings.—The influence of the first of these elements ia remarkably seen in the con- trast between natural and artificial Reverie (§§ 443, 448), also between some forms of natural and artificial Somnambulism (§§488, 492): and not less between different forms of Insanity, in which last condition we find some patients constantly brooding over particular trains of thought, and almost incapable of being turned from the contempla- tion of these by external suggestions ; whilst others are no lesa remarkable for the instability of their mental states, and for the readiness with which a new direction may be given to the thoughts by sensory impressions.—The influence of the second element is strikingly manifested in the difference between the various phases of the state of Dreaming, and in the contrast between the incoherence 394 Of the Will. of the commoner forms of this (§ 482), and that consistency in the trains of thought which generally characterizes the state of Som- nambulism ; this last again being strongly contrasted with the states of Delirium and Mania (§ 54S, 553), which are especially charac- terized by the complete confusion of the Intellectual powers, all previoua states of consciousness being (as it were) jumbled together, and the order of their recurrence and the nature of the new combina- tions which may arise out of them, being irreducible to any principle of orderly sequence.—The influence of the third element is well seen in those forms of artificial Reverie and Somnambulism, in which the feelings as well aa the ideas admit of being played upon by external influences; for it is easy to bring the mind of the " subject" under the domination of any particular Emotion, by taking the appropriate means to excite it; and, so long as this may continue, the language and actions most obviously display its impress. Thus it is often sufficient to ask the Biologized subject (§ 451), "Why are you so angry?" " Why are you so sad ?" &c,—to induce these conditions respectively, the suggestions being here conveyed verbally: whilst in the Hypnotic state there is often a very curious Emotional susceptibility to the influence of Muscular associations (§ 494). But it is in Insanity (Chap. XVIII.) that we best see the influence of Emotional states upon the course of thought and action. For here we find them supplying impulses to bodily movements, which the weakened Will cannot resist, although the Intellect distinctly apprehends the evil consequences of such actions ; or, on the other hand, we find them directing the whole course of mental activity, giving a wrong colour to all the ideas which call them into exercise, and so attracting the attention to the trains of thought founded upon these, that they come to attain a complete domination over the mind, and hence over the conduct, to which they supply motives of such potency that the weakened Will can neither resist them, nor withdraw the mind from attending to them. 320. It will aid us in the examination of the mode in which the Will determines our actions, if we first examine the influence it has on the formation of our opinions,— a subject on which, in the Writer's judgment, a grave misapprehension is prevalent. For it is very frequently asserted that it does not rest with any Man to Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 395 determine what he shall believe or what he shall disbelieve; that he cannot help giving or refusing his assent, according to the pre- ponderance of evidence; and that he is, therefore, "no more responsible for his opinions, than he is for the colour of his skin.'' Now whilst fully recognizing it as a fundamental fact of conscious- ness, that Assent is an automatic action, over which the Will can exert no direct influence, the Writer has now to show that the Will has an immense indirect power of a twofold nature ;—(1) through the habitual discipline by which it gives shape to the Intellectual fabric; and (2) through its power of modifying the relative force cf different evidentiaiy considerations, by the degree of Attention j/iven to each. Section 3.—Influence of tlie Will on the Formation of Beliefs. 321. It may be freely admitted that there are certain Proposi- tions which claim our immediate and entire assent; but between these and the Beliefs to which we give our assent as on the whole preferable, after mentally balancing a variety of considerations bearing upon them, there is every gradation. The cogency of the propositions of the first kind depends upon the fact that they are consistent with our previous convictions, and that nothing can be said against them ; whilst the uncertainty we feel as to the second, results from the fact that there is " much to be said on both sides." And further, whilst those of the first kind are equally ac- cordant with the Mental Constitution (whether original or acquired) of eveiy one (§ 377), those of the second are very differently estimated by different individuals, all equally desirous of arriving at the truth, according to their conformity or disaccordance with that aggregate of pirformcd opinion which has grown up in the Mind of each. Fur just as—if so rude a comparison be permitted—we try whether a new piece of furniture which is offered us does or does not fit into a certain recess in our apartment, and accept or decline it accord- 396 Of the Will. ingly, so we try a new Proposition which is offered to our Mental acceptance. If it either at once fits-in, or can by argument or dis- cussion be brought to fit-in, to some recess in our fabric of Thought, we give our assent to it, by admitting it to its appro- priate place. But if it neither fits in the first instance, nor can by any means be brought to fit, the Mind automatically rejects it. a. Of this we have a marked illustration in the opposite receptions given to the asserted wonders of Spiritualism. To those, for example, who have been trained in Scientific habits of thought, the statement of a dozen persons that a lady was transported two miles through the air, in a state of trance, and came down upon the table of a darkened room, the doors and windows of which were securely closed,—or that Mr. Home, in a like condition, floated out of the open window of one room, and into that of another, at a height of seventy feet above the ground,—seems a simple absurdity, to which no ordinary testimony would induce their assent. And, further, to any one who has so far studied the constitution of the Human Mind, as to be aware of the influence of " dominant ideas" in producing false perceptions (§ 186), it becomes obvious that no amount of testimony given by witnesses who are "possessed" by such ideas haa the least evi- dentiary value.—On the other hand, to those whose previous training utterly incapacitates them for the appreciation of Scientific truth, who scornfully repudiate the objections urged by men of science as those of prejudiced or interested opponents, who have a craving for "spiritual manifestations" as proofs of the continued existence of their departed friends, who are utterly ignorant of the nature of the "subjective" as distinguished from the "objective," who implicitly bolieve what they term the "evidence of their senses," and who are consequently quite prepared to mistake the creations of their own imaginations for external realities, such statements appear not only credible but probable; in fact, the more inconsistent the asserted phenomena are with every-day experience, the more readily do they give their entire assent to them, as fitting-in with their previous conceptions of the supernatural powers of " the Spirits." Again, since the preformed Mantal habits thus determine not merely the primary acceptance or rejection of the Proposition, but tha Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 397 issue of the further attempts to make it fit, not only will different individuals draw very different conclusions from the same data, but the same Ego will form different judgments as to the very same matter at different stages of his Mental life; without any change in the external materials of his judgment, but solely from changes in his own fabric of Thought,—one recess (to revert to our former simile) having grown large enough to admit what it formerly refused, and another having contracted so as no longer to give place to what it originally admitted. b. Every one who has gone through a sufficiently long course of Intellectual experiences, and has been accustomed to reflect upon them, must be conscious that this has often occurred to himself. The Writer, in common (he doubts not) with many Men of Science, haa often been surprised, on turning over the records of his earlier beliefs, to find how many of them he would now absolutely reject; not because they have been disproved by additional evidence, but because he has himself grown out of them; either from no longer attaching the same value to evidence on which he formerly relied, or from looking at the whole subject from an entirely different stand-point. These purely Intellectual diversities of judgment are closely related to those modifications in our Memory of actual occurrences, which are unconsciously produced by our habits of thought in relation to the subject of them (§ 365). How much our conclusions on any matter into which Emotional considerations enter, are swayed by the state of feeling in which we may be at the time, is a matter of familiar experience; a night's rest often completely reversing our judgment, by altering our estimation of the data on which that judgment was based. 322. Thus, then, while no one, constituted as he is at the time, may be able to help giving his assent to certain propositions, and refusing bis assent to others, every one who has learned to direct his own Intellectual activity is responsible for the use he has made of hia power, in the construction of that Mental fabric, the aptitude or inaptitude of which for the reception of a new proposition deter- mines his acceptance or rejection of it.—There are numerous pro- 398 Of the Will. positions which arc scarcely less " self-evident" to the minds of Buch as have giveu special attention to the subjects to which they relate, than are the Axioms of Geometry to the Common-Sense of Mankind generally (§ 200) ; the admission of them into the Mental fabric of such persons being immediate, and their fit into appropriate places being exact, in virtue of its special preparedness for their reception. And thus the unhesitating assent which one man gives to a proposition or set of propositions, the nescience of another who avowedly forms no opinion about them (pronouncing the matter " unknowable "), and the positive denial of them by a third who denounces them as altogether monstrous and absurd, are all the expressions of antecedent states of rniud, which partly arise out of the original constitution of each individual, but partly depend on the self-discipline he has habitually exercised in his search for Truth. Every one, for example, who has been trained in Scientific habits of thought, recogniaea the cogency of the evidence afforded by Spectroscopic observation, in regard to the Chemistry and Physics of the Celestial luminaries. For if he haa not himself observed the phenomena, he accepts the testimony of those who have ; the concur- rence of independent observers, and the accordance of their state- ments with the antecedent probabilities established by other investi- gations, giving the fullest validity to that testimony. And the deduc- tions from those phenomena are so simple and direct, requiring neither the elaborate computations of Astronomy, nor the combinations of probabilities which Geological reasonings involve, that no special education is required for the recognition of their claim on hia assent. Hence it may be fairly said that any man who refuses to accept them, is responsible for the state of mind which dictates that refusal; unless his mind ia so deficient (either by original constitution, or through want of appropriate training) in the power of apprehending scientific Truth, that he cannot yield his assent to that which becomes perfectly obvious to every man of ordinary intelligence who bestows sufficient attention on the matter. 323. But a large part of the Propositions offered to our accept- Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 399 fcace, relate to matters as to which the evidence is far less cogent and conclusive; and the question is not so much whether they do or do wot fit at once, as whether they can be brought to fit by argu- ment and discussion. Now here, again, a sincere desire to arrive at Truth, without the least wish to come to any particular con- cl ision, being presupposed, the balance of judgment will be en- tirely determined by the individual's previous habits of thought; as on these will depend the relative weight he attaches to the Beveral arguments pro and con. (This is so well understood at the Bar, that a skilful advocate, in pleading before a Judge, will shape his argument according to his knowledge of that judge's "turn of mind.") And there are very few persons who are so entirely devoid of Intellectual prejudices, or inclinations to particular modes of thought, as to be altogether free from their influence; that influence being especially dangerous, when we are altogether unconscious of its existence (§ 389). Those in whom it is chiefly " conspicuous by its absence" are said to be distinguished by their "judicial habit of mind." 324. As soon, however, as any otlier motive than the desire to arrive at Truth enters into the formation of our beliefs, the Will comes to have a far more powerful influence. That " we easily believe what we wish" is a proverb which Experience shows to be so often true, that Science is called on to give the rationale of a fact which seems opposed to what has been said of the automatic nature of our Intellectual decisions. The opposition, however, is more apparent than real. In the discussion of a question of Intellectual Truth, as in debating with one's self a question of Morals (§ 210), the Will has the power of keeping some considera- tions out of view, and thereby diminishing their force, whilst it fixes the attention upon others, and thereby increases their force. And in this manner the Will can indirectly determine the inclina- tion of the balance of evidence which commands belief, as it can the balance of motives which determines conduct. *oo Of the Will. Ita action may be compared to that (now happily, in our own country, a matter of history) of a partisan Judge presiding over a Political trial, in which the Prisoner's life or death depends on tho verdict of an impartial Jury. For a Judge who is determined to procure an adverse verdict, has various means of influencing the decision. In the first place he refuses even to consider the objections which the prisoner's counsel may be justified in urging against the indictment; and accepts the reply of the crown lawyer as all-sufficient, when it does not really meet one of the points raised for the defence. Again, he treats the witnesses for the crown with the utmost con- sideration, assumes the truth of every statement they make, and not only asks no inconvenient questions himself, but places every obstacle he can in the way of the cross-examination which tends to expose the inconsistencies of their testimony, or to convict them of interested mo- tives. On the other hand, he treats the witnesaea for the defence as if they were utterly unworthy of credit; and allows the utmoat licence to the crown-counsel who endeavours to lower the value of their testimony by unjustifiable insinuations or bullying assumptions. And in his " summing-up," he so forcibly presents to the jury both the law and the evidence on one side, and so determinately keeps down the force of law and evidence on the other, that the Jury, however honest their intentions, may be forced into giving a most iniquitous verdict, for the injustice of which it is the Judge who is really responsible. 325. This influence of the Will is all the more powerful, when we do not discuss the question with others, but only with ourselves. For we can far more easily withdraw our attention from the suggestions which occur to our own minds, than we can from the very same considerations forcibly urged as arguments by others. And, further, if we only look at the matter from our own point of sight, we are almost sure to take but a limited view of it. Eveiy ene, therefore, who really desires to arrive at Truth upon a subject which is open to question, will seek to acquaint himself with the view that may be taken of it by others;—as when a Judge says " I (should like to hear that point argued," knowing that the Counsel on the two sides will bring forwards all that is to be said on each. Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 401 Upon his candid readiness to listen to all that they can fairly urge, and his trained ability to estimate their arguments at their just weight, will depend the worth of his final decision. This pro- cedure is especially important with Minds which have been habituated to the worship of Idols of any kind whatever; for to these they are perpetually, without being aware of it, " sacrificing their intellectual and moral independence." a. Thus Dr. Channing was led by the representations of Samuel J. May, to perceive that he had been thus sacrificing to the idol of " unanimity " in holding his peace upon the Slavery question. The conduct of those two great and good men, as recorded in the Memoir of the former (vol. iii., pp. 156-159), is a noble moral as well aa intellectual lesson, which should teach charity, as well as fidelity to principle. " At first," said Mrs. L. M. Child, who seems to have made the earliest attempt to draw Dr. Channing's attention to the subject, " I thought him timid, and even slightly time-serving; but I soon found that I formed that estimate from ignorance of his cha- racter. I learned that it was justice to all, not popularity for himself, which made him so cautious. He constantly grew upon my respect, until I came to regard him as the wisest, as well as the gentlest, apostle of humanity."—When subsequently appealed-to by Mr. May, he did not raise any objections to the fundamental doctrines of the Abolitionists; but excused himself from participating in their agitation, on account of the severity of their denunciations, and the vehemence, heat, and excitement caused by their meetings. This called forth an indignant protest from the Abolitionist advocate; who urged that any imprudences of thia kind were due to the silence of such men as Dr. Channing, who, acknowledging the awful injustice of Slavery, had not raised their voices in remonstrance against it. " It is not our fault," he said, " that those who might have pleaded for the enslaved so much more wisely and eloquently, both with the pen and the living voice, than we can, have been silent. Why, Sir, have you not spoken?"—This appeal went "home."—"Brother May," replied Channing, after some minutes' consideration, "I acknowledge the justice of your reproof: I have been silent too long." And he forthwith prepared himself to "speak out."—No one who knew Dr. Channing could suspect for a moment that he would have refused 402 Of the Will. to this argument, if it had suggested itself to his own mind, the sam«, weight that it had with him when brought forwards by another. His unconscious bias in the opposite direction had prevented it from ever occurring to him. b. The case of the Rev. Blanco White affords another illustration of the same principle. Born in Spain, and brought up as a Roman Catholic Priest, but rebelling against the principle of Authority, he found refuge in the Church of England, specially attaching himself to the Liberals of Oxford, by whom he was highly esteemed; so that when Dr. Whately was appointed to the Archbishopric of Dublin, he named Blanco White his domestic chaplain. Whilst holding this position, he published a controversial work entitled " Second Travels of an Irish Gentleman in search of a Religion," which fell under the notice of the Rev. George Armstrong, who had already, on conscien- tious grounds, resigned his preferment in the Irish Church; and a correspondence took place between them.* Mr. Armstrong urged upon Blanco White, that, upon the principles he had avowedly adopted, it was not possible for him, as a matter of logical consistency, to con- tinue in the position he was then holding; and being brought to admit this, he at once relinquished it, though by so doing, he severed ties of the closest nature, personal as well as professional.— The whole life of Blanco White showed such a thorough fidelity to principle, such a readiness to make any and every sacrifice which hia conscience demanded, that it cannot for a moment be imputed to him that he had intentionally kept out of his view the logical result of hia own train of reasoning. He simply did not see it, until it was pointed out to him. On the other hand, it not unfrequently happens in a controversy between honest opponents, that the effect of an adverse argument is in the first instance to stir up an antagonistic spirit, which pre- vents its weight from being duly appreciated ; and that it is only when the argument is calmly and quietly reviewed at a subsequent time, that its real cogency makes itself felt. With most personBl indeed, the first effect of an assertion which runs counter to their Bettled beliefs, is to make them think what can be said against it; bo that the most candid and truth-seeking of men generally require Influence of the Will on Beliefs. 403 time for the digestion and assimilation (so to speak) of any such proposition. 326. But another Proverb, or concrete expression of a vast body of familiar experience,—tells us that " there are none so blind aa those that won't see ;" and it is in wilfully turning away