structure. The progress which I have made in it is, I am sensible, very inconsiderable; yet I flatter myself that the little I have done will be sufficient to illustrate the importance of the study, and to recommend the subjects of which I am to treat, to the attention of others. After the remarks which I have now made, the reader will not be surprised to find, that I have studiously avoided the consideration of those questions which have been agitated in the present age, between the patrons of the sceptical philosophy, and their opponents. These controversies have, in truth, no peculiar connexion with the inquiries on which I am to enter. It is indeed only by an examination of the principles of our nature, that they can be brought to a satisfactory conclusion; but, supposing them to remain undecided, our skeptical doubts concerning the certainty of human knowledge, would no more affect the philosophy of mind, than they would affect any of the branches of physics; nor would our doubts concerning even the existence of mind, affect this branch of science, any more than the doubts of the Berkeleian concerning the existence of matter, affect his opinions in natural philosophy.

To what purposes the philosophy of the human mind, according to the view which I propose to take of it, is subservient, I shall endeavor to explain, at some length, in the following section.

PART II.

SECTION I.

Of the Utility of the Philosophy of the Human Mind.

IT has been often remarked, that there is a mutual connexion between the different arts and sciences; and that the improvements which are made in one branch of human knowledge, frequently throw light on others, to which it has apparently a very remote relation. The modern discoveries in astronomy and in pure mathematics, have contributed to bring the art of navigation to a degree of perfection formerly unknown. The rapid progress which has been lately made in astronomy, anatomy, and botany, has been chiefly owing to the aid which these sciences have received from the art of the optician.

Although, however, the different departments of science and of art mutually reflect light on each other, it is not always necessary either for the philosopher or the artist to aim at the acquisition of general knowledge. Both of them may safely take many principles for granted, without being able to demonstrate their truth. A seaman, though ignorant of mathematics, may apply, with correctness and dexterity, the rules for finding the longitude. An

astronomer or a botanist, though ignorant of optics, may avail himself of the use of the telescope or the microscope.

These observations are daily exemplified in the case of the artist; who has seldom either inclination or leisure to speculate concerning the principles of his art. It is rarely, however, we meet with a man of science who has confined his studies wholly to one branch of knowledge. That curiosity, which he has been accustomed to indulge in the course of his favorite pursuit, will naturally extend itself to every remarkable object which falls under his observation, and can scarcely fail to be a source of perpetual dissatisfaction to his mind, till it has been so far gratified as to enable him to explain all the various phenomena which his professional habits are every day presenting to his view.

As every particular science is in this manner connected with others, to which it naturally directs the attention, so all the pursuits of life, whether they terminate in speculation or action, are connected with that general science which has the human mind for its object. The powers of the understanding are instruments which all men employ; and his curiosity must be small indeed, who passes through life in total ignorance of faculties which his wants and necessities force him habitually to exercise, and which so remarkably distinguish man from the lower animals. The active principles of our nature, which, by their various modifications and combinations, give rise to all the moral differences among men, are fitted, in a still higher degree, if possible, to interest those who are either disposed to reflect on their own characters, or to observe, with attention, the characters of others. The phenomena resulting from these faculties and principles of the mind, are every moment soliciting our notice, and open to our examination a field of discovery, as inexhaustible as the phenomena of the material world, and exhibiting not less striking marks of divine wisdom.

While all the sciences and all the pursuits of life have this common tendency to lead our inquiries to the philosophy of human nature, this last branch of knowledge borrows its principles from no other science whatever. Hence there is something in the study of it which is peculiarly gratifying to a reflecting and inquisitive mind, and something in the conclusions to which it leads on which the mind rests with peculiar satisfaction. Till once our opinions are in some degree fixed with respect to it, we abandon ourselves, with reluctance, to particular scientific investigations; and, on the other hand, a general knowledge of such of its principles as are most fitted to excite the curiosity, not only prepares us for engaging in other pursuits with more liberal and comprehensive views, but leaves us at liberty to prosecute them with a more undivided and concentrated attention.

It is not, however, merely as a subject of speculative curiosity that the principles of the human mind deserve a careful examination. The advantages to be expected from a successful analysis of

it are various; and some of them of such importance, as to render it astonishing, that, amidst all the success with which the subordinate sciences have been cultivated, this, which comprehends the principles of all of them, should be still suffered to remain in its infancy.

I shall endeavor to illustrate a few of these advantages, beginning with what appears to me to be the most important of any; the light which a philosophical analysis of the principles of the mind would necessarily throw on the subjects of intellectual and moral education.

The most essential objects of education are the two following: First, to cultivate all the various principles of our nature, both speculative and active, in such a manner as to bring them to the greatest perfection of which they are susceptible; and, secondly, by watching over the impressions and associations which the mind receives in early life, to secure it against the influence of prevailing errors; and, as far as possible, to engage its prepossessions on the side of truth. It is only upon a philosophical analysis of the mind, that a systematical plan can be founded for the accomplishment of either of these purposes.

There are few individuals whose education has been conducted in every respect with attention and judgment. Almost every man of reflection is conscious, when he arrives at maturity, of many defects in his mental powers, and of many inconvenient habits, which might have been prevented or remedied in his infancy or youth. Such a consciousness is the first step towards improvement; and the person who feels it, if he is possessed of resolution and steadiness, will not scruple to begin, even in advanced years, a new course of education for himself. The degree of reflection and observation, indeed, which is necessary for this purpose, cannot be expected from any one at a very early period of life, as these are the last powers of the mind which unfold themselves; but it is never too late to think of the improvement of. our faculties; and much progress may be made in the art of applying them successfully to their proper objects, or in obviating the inconveniences resulting from their imperfection, not only in manhood, but in old

age.

It is not, however, to the mistakes of our early instructors, that all our intellectual defects are to be ascribed. There is no profession or pursuit which has not habits peculiar to itself, and which does not leave some powers of the mind dormant, while it exercises and improves the rest. If we wish, therefore, to cultivate the mind to the extent of its capacity, we must not rest satisfied with that employment which its faculties receive from our particular situation in life. It is not in the awkward and professional form of a mechanic, who has strengthened particular muscles of his body by the habits of his trade, that we are to look for the perfection of our animal nature; neither is it among men of confined pursuits,

whether speculative or active, that we are to expect to find the human mind in its highest state of cultivation. A variety of exercises is necessary to preserve the animal frame in vigor and beauty; and a variety of those occupations which literature and science afford, added to a promiscuous intercourse with the world, in the habits of conversation and business, is no less necessary for the improvement of the understanding. I acknowledge, that there are some professions in which a man of very confined acquisitions may arrive at the first eminence, and in which he will perhaps be the more likely to excel, the more he has concentrated the whole force of his mind to one particular object. But such a person, however distinguished in his own sphere, is educated merely to be a literary artisan, and neither attains the perfection nor the happiness of his nature. "That education only can be considered as complete and generous, which" (in the language of Milton) "fits a man to perform justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the offices, both private and public, of peace and of war."-Tractate of Education.

I hope it will not be supposed, from the foregoing observations, that they are meant to recommend an indiscriminate attention to all the objects of speculation and of action. Nothing can be more evident, than the necessity of limiting the field of our exertion; if we wish to benefit society by our labors. But it is perfectly consistent with the most intense application to our favorite pursuit, to cultivate that general acquaintance with letters and with the world which may be sufficient to enlarge the mind, and to preserve it from any danger of contracting the pedantry of a particular profession. In many cases, (as was already remarked,) the sciences reflect light on each other; and the general acquisitions which we have made in other pursuits, may furnish us with useful helps for the farther prosecution of our own. But even in those instances in which the case is otherwise, and in which these liberal accomplishments must be purchased by the sacrifice of a part of our professional eminence, the acquisition of them will amply repay any loss we may sustain. It ought not to be the leading object of any one, to become an eminent metaphysician, mathematician, or poet, but to render himself happy as an individual, and an agreeable, a respectable, and a useful member of society. A man who loses his sight, improves the sensibility of his touch; but who would consent, for such a recompense, to part with the pleasures which he receives from the eye?

It is almost unnecessary for me to remark, how much individuals would be assisted in the proper and liberal culture of the mind, if they were previously led to take a comprehensive survey of human nature in all its parts; of its various faculties, and powers, and sources of enjoyment, and of the effects which are produced on these principles by particular situations. It is such a knowledge alone of the capacities of the mind, that can enable a person to

judge of his own acquisitions, and to employ the most effectual means for supplying his defects and removing his inconvenient habits. Without some degree of it, every man is in danger of contracting bad habits before he is aware, and of suffering some of his powers to go to decay, for want of proper exercise.

If the business of early education were more thoroughly and more generally understood, it would be less necessary for individuals, when they arrive at maturity, to form plans of improvement for themselves. But education never can be systematically directed to its proper objects, till we have obtained, not only an accurate. analysis of the general principles of our nature, and an account of the most important laws which regulate their operation; but an explanation of the various modifications and combinations of these principles, which produce that diversity of talents, genius, and character, we observe among men. To instruct youth in the languages and in the sciences is comparatively of little importance, if we are inattentive to the habits they acquire, and are not careful in giving to all their different faculties, and all their different principles of action, a proper degree of employment. Abstracting entirely from the culture of their moral powers, how extensive and difficult is the business of conducting their intellectual improvement! To watch over the associations which they form in their tender years; to give them early habits of mental activity; to rouse their curiosity, and to direct it to proper objects; to exercise their ingenuity and invention; to cultivate in their minds a turn for speculation, and at the same time preserve their attention alive to the objects around them; to awaken their sensibilities to the beauties of nature, and to inspire them with a relish for intellectual enjoyment;—these form but a part of the business of education, and yet the execution even of this part requires an acquaintance with the general principles of our nature, which seldom falls to the share of those to whom the instruction of youth is commonly entrusted. Nor will such a theoretical knowledge of the human mind as I have now described, be always sufficient in practice. An uncommon degree of sagacity is frequently requisite, in order to accommodate general rules to particular tempers and characters. In whatever way we choose to account for it, whether by original organization or by the operation of moral causes in very early infancy, no fact can be more undeniable, than that there are important differences discernible in the minds of children, previous to that period at which, in general, their intellectual education commences. There is, too, a certain hereditary character (whether resulting from physical constitution, or caught from imitation and the influence of situation) which appears remarkably in particular families. One race, for a succession of generations, is distinguished by a genius for the abstract sciences, while it is deficient in vivacity, in imagination, and in taste: another is no less distinguished for wit, and gaiety, and fancy; while it appears incapable of patient