cated and delicate as that of man, is it not amazing that his health should be so little interrupted, and his existence so comparatively protracted? when a muscle or a bone out of place, a vein or an artery stopped, or a nerve unduly strung, produces disease, pain, or death! When, therefore, we not only enjoy so much health and pleasure, but find ourselves endowed with faculties for appreciating the wonderful works of creation, and rising thence to contemplate their great FIRST CAUSE, ought not our feelings to be those of rapturous devotion, while we call upon our souls, and all that is within us, in 'expressive silence to muse His praise?' Section EE. ON THE INTELLECTUAL FACULTIES OF MAN. 'Man is obviously the highest order of the visible creation, the noblest inhabitant of the present world, and the supreme terrestrial sovereign of animated nature; eminently excelling all the other orders in the perfection of his sympathetic, intellectual, and moral faculties.' Then was reason given, as man's best guide Detached or insulated ends alone, DISTINGUISHED as man obviously is by the symmetry, harmony, and general perfection of his physical organization, he is still farther raised in the scale of animated being by his intellectual endowments. As the body is composed of numerous organs, each of 'Referring to the Creation. which is essential to the perfection of the whole, so. the mind includes various faculties, none of which can be defective without injuring the rest. The lungs are not more essential to the functions of the heart, than is accurate conception to soundness of judgement-the circulation of the blood is not more necessary to the animal economy, than memory to the mental. But these are not primary operations' of the mind; they rest equally upon consciousness, and this again upon the still more elementary operations of sensa tion and perception. Consciousness is that faculty by which all the other powers are made known to us; and it therefore demands the first place in any inquiry relative to our mental structure. It is the only evidence of our existence:-we think, and therefore we live. The power of consciousness appears to be altogether denied to the lower animals; nor does it manifest itself in man till most of the other faculties have experienced considerable developement. The wants and purposes of life require that we should first become well acquainted with those objects of nature and art with which we are externally connected, and which are the principal sources both of our pleasures and pains. Our senses and perceptive powers are, therefore, first brought into exercise, and acquire maturity; then follow such as are purely intellectual. To this latter class belongs consciousness; which, however, is a faculty that is not only 1 The terms faculty, operation, or power of the mind, have long been employed to denote the various phenomena of human thought. It should, however, be remembered, that, by the various faculties of the mind, it is not separate and independent energies, which may be supposed to unite in forming the mind itself, that are to be understood; but merely different modes of action of the same thinking principle. Dr. Reid defines the mind to be that in man which 'thinks, remembers, reasons, wills. By the operations of the mind, we understand every mode of which we are conscious. The faculties of the mind, and its powers, are often used as synonymous expressions;' and in most cases they may safely be considered as such. g exercised by the philosopher and the contemplative character, but also by the illiterate and laborious part of mankind. The languages of the rudest tribes contain words expressive of the simplest operations of the mind, as thinking, willing, perceiving, remembering, &c.; a circumstance which is a proof that these things are known, and familiarly spoken of as matters of belief, even among those who have paid the least attention to operations of this kind. These tribes, however, are only acquainted with the simplest faculties; but as they ascend in the scale of civilization, their ideas, and with them, words of this description, become more copious. At an early period of life, the faculty of consciousness lies dormant, so that many trains of thought may have then passed through the mind, without having left any traces of their existence. In this respect uninstructed persons, in general, differ little from children; being seldom aware of the precise trains of thought by which their conduct, in many of the most important affairs of life, is regulated. Mr. Stewart, in his Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, has denoted this class of mental operations by the term attention. It is principally to the exercise of consciousness that we are indebted for the conviction of our personal, or rather intellectual, identity; for it may be safely affirmed that every one considers himself absolutely certain, that, whatever changes his body may undergo, his mind always continues one and the same. To arrive at this conclusion, however, consciousness is not the only acting power; Memory must lend its aid in giving a rational explanation of the origin of this conviction; for consciousness embraces only the present, while memory supplies a knowledge of the past. It is by a comparison of both these that our idea of intellect is established. The operation of consciousness always induces a firm belief of the real existence of those objects respecting which it supplies information; and it is on this evidence alone that the knowledge of our va rious intellectual faculties, as well as the belief of our own existence, ultimately rests. Nor can this conviction be resolved into any process of reasoning, or any other operation of the mind; for, should we be asked why we believe we have a soul, the only reply that we can give is, that we feel we have, or, more correctly speaking, are conscious of it. When Descartes was anxious to form a new system of philosophy, free from the absurdities and false assumptions of the schoolmen, the evidence of consciousness was the only principle which he considered worthy of being admitted without-proof. Even Mr. Hume, the most sceptical of modern philosophers, implicitly admits this principle, in reference to his impressions and ideas, the reality of which rests entirely upon the supposed fact of his being conscious of them. Consciousness, therefore, seems to be universally and intuitively admitted; but, that, according to the Cartesian and Sceptical systems, it is the only principle which ought to be so admitted, we are by no means prepared to allow. Having thus given a general idea of that power of mind, by which alone we become sensible of its other faculties, we shall now present some of the most useful information respecting them. There are few subjects more curious and interesting than the manner in which the intellectual powers of man are gradually developed. The slowness of the process in children is too apt to produce impa tience, when it ought to excite our admiration; as without it those faculties would, undoubtedly, counteract each other. The first impressions the mind receives are obviously those of external objects, through the medium of the senses, and to which metaphysicians have applied the term sensation. This is, therefore, the part of our intellectual constitution which is most intimately connected with corporeal objects, and forms the principal link in the mysterious union between soul and body. Hence, as the senses are capable of performing their destined offices, even in infancy, sensation ought to be considered as among the very first objects of consciousness. Perception is another faculty of the mind which generally accompanies sensation, though it is evidently a distinct power, as they may take place independently of each other. Dr. Reid, to whom we are indebted for the first distinction between them, thus points out the difference: 'Sensation, taken by itself, implies neither the conception nor the belief of any external object. It supposes a sentient being, and a certain manner in which that being is affected; but it supposes no more. Perception implies an immediate conviction and belief of something external; something different both from the mind that perceives, and from the act of perception.' This difference will be best illustrated by example. Many of those sensations which spring from causes within our own frames are unattended by any perception. Hunger and thirst, for instance, are unaccompanied by any perception of their exciting cause, while the figure, extension, and magnitude of bodies, as perceived by the eye, are not attended by any sensation; which being considered as the consciousness of any impression made upon the mind, chiefly through the medium of the senses, its very essence consists in its being felt; for the moment it ceases to be felt, it ceases to be. Perception, on the contrary, is always accompanied by a conviction of some external object. Hence the objects of perception have a permanent existence, whether we perceive them or not; while those of sensation exist only while they are felt. In perception, therefore, our attention is directed to external objects—in sensation, to the pleasures and pains we experience. Sensation is the lowest, as well as the first developed, of our intellectual faculties. It connects us with matter, and allies us with the meanest animals conscious of existence. The oyster in the rock pos |