CHAPTER FIRST.

ORIGIN OF KNOWLEDGE IN GENERAL.

§. 131. Of the mind considered in itself.

HAVING arrived at this point in our inquiries, where we are to start forth on a new track, it is natural to cast a glance back on the road we have gone over; and it is no exaggeration to say, that we have found grounds of admiration and encouragement in what has fallen under our notice. We have seen undoubted proof of the greatness of the mind, of the variety of its clementary resources, and of its essential excellence; and yet we have only gone round it like casual visiters; we have merely seen the outlines and boundaries; we have counted the towers and bulwarks at a distance; and can hardly say, that we have opened the gates, and entered into the inner part of the city.

The mind of man may be contemplated in itself. As a matter of speculation, such a view of it will do no harm; although in point of fact, the mind never was, and never can be separated from the relations it sustains to every part of the universe, and to the great Creator of the Universe. As a mere matter of speculation however, we may direct our attention to it, considered as separate from every thing else; and there will be found to be something pleasing and exalting in such contemplations. If we suppose its powers to be in their strength and ac

tivity, and at the same time exclude the consideration of every thing exteriour, which might be imagined to be the cause of this activity, the mind has the appearance of being a self-supplying, and original energy. It seems to us like the sun in the heavens, a perpetual fountain-head of illumination, streaming outward in every direction, and overflowing all things with brightness.

Plato among the ancients, and Malebranche among the moderns seem to have been pleased with taking this view; those peculiar traits of thought, which are ascribed to them, may be accounted for in part on the ground of a great retirement into themselves, and a predominant love of interiour inspection. And certainly to a serious and contemplative mind, there is something peculiarly fascinating in this course. When men are sick of the world without, as they often find occasion to be, there is always a world within, in which they ean seclude themselves. In the indulgence of this inward retirement, they have an opportunity not only to search out the mind's hidden treasures of thought, emotion, and energy, but to contemplate also the marks and signatures of that divine and more glorious Intelligence from whom it came.

§. 135. Connection of the mind with the material world.

But after all, the speculations referred to in the last section will be likely to lead us astray, and to give a distorted view of the mind, if they are pursued too far, or are not limited, and guarded with sufficient care. An entire separation of the soul and its action from every thing else is merely a supposition, an hypothesis, which is not realized in our present state of being. What the soul will be in a future state of existence is of course another inquiry. It is possible, that it may be disburdened, more than it is in this life, of connections and dependencies, and will possess more freedom and energy; but it seems to be our appropriate business at present to examine it, as we find it here.

Whatever Providence may have in reserve for us in a future state, it is obvious, that in our present existence it

has designed, and established an intimate connection between the soul, and the material world. We have a witness of this in the mere fact of the existence of an external creation. Was all this visible creation made for nought? Are the flowers not only of the wilderness, but of the cultivated place, formed merely to waste their sweetness on the desert air? Are those harmonical sounds and ravishing touches, that come forth from animate and inanimate nature, uttered, and breathed out in vain ? Can we permit ourselves to suppose, that the symmetry of form, every where existing in the outward world, the relations and aptitudes, the beauties of proportion, and the decorations of colours exist without any object? And yet this must be so, if there be no connection between the soul of man and outward objects. What would be proportion, what would be colour, what would be harmony of sound without the soul, to which they are addressed, and from which they are acknowledged to derive their efficacy? Where there is no soul, where there is a deprivation and want of the conscious spirit, there is no sight, no hearing, no touch, no sense of beauty. Every thing depends on the mind; the senses are merely the medium of communication, the conditions and helps of the perceptions, and not the perceptions themselves.

With such considerations we justify what has been said that Providence designed, and established an intimate connection between the soul, and the material world.

And there is another train of thought, which leads to the same conclusion. On any other supposition than the existence of such a connection, we cannot account for that nice and costly apparatus of the nerves and organs of sense, with which we are furnished. Although we behold on every side abundant marks of the Creator's goodness, we may safely say, he does nothing in vain. The question then immediately recurs, What is the meaning of the expenditure of the Divine goodness in the formation of the eye, in the windings and ingenious construction of the ear, and in the diffusion of the sense of

touch? We cannot give a satisfactory answer to this question, except on the ground, that there is a designed. and established connection between the mind, and the material world. If we admit the existence of this connection, every thing is at once explained.

§. 136. Of the origin or beginnings of knowledge.

The Creator, therefore, established the relation between mind and matter; and it is a striking and important fact, that, in this connection of the mental and material world, we are probably to look for the commencement of the mind's activity, and for the beginnings of knowledge. The soul considered, in its relationship to external nature, may be compared to a stringed instrument. Regarded in itself, it is an invisible existence, having the capacity and elements of harmony. The nerves, the eye, and the senses generally are the chords and artificial frame-work, which God has woven round its unseen and unsearchable essence. This living and curious instrument, which was before voiceless and silent, sends forth its sounds of harmony, as soon as it is swept by outward influences. But this, it will be noticed, is a general statement; the meaning may not be perfectly obvious, and it will be necessary to descend to some particulars.

There are certain elementary notions, which seem to be involved in, and inseparable from our very existence, such as self, identity, &c. The supposition would be highly unreasonable, that we can exist for any length of time without possessing them. It is certain, that these notions are among the earliest, which men form; and yet cautious and judicious inquirers into the mind have expressed the opinion, that even these do not arise, except subsequently to an impression on the organs of sense.

Speaking of a being, whom, for the sake of illustration, he supposes to be possessed of merely the two senses. of hearing and smelling, Mr. Stewart makes this remark.

"Let us suppose then a particular sensation to be excited in the mind of such a being. The moment this happens he must necessarily acquire the knowledge of two