SECTION I.. The Immediate Causes of Pleasurable and Painful Sensations,

THE IMMEDIATE CAUSES OF PLEASURABLE AND PAINFUL SENSATIONS, CONTEMPLATED AS PASSED, OR AS FUTURE.

BESIDE the Sensations, the Causes of them are capable of being contemplated, both as passed, and as future.

It may be regarded as remarkable, that though the idea or thought of a disagreeable sensation, as passed, is nearly indifferent, the thought of the cause of a painful passed sensation is often a very interesting state of consciousness. This state of consciousness we sometimes call Antipathy, sometimes Hatred; though hatred, as we shall afterwards see, is more frequently the name of the Motive to which it gives birth. We have, however, but one concrete term for both of these abstracts, the verb "to hate," which, of course, performs its business ill. From this, however, it no doubt comes, that the word Hatred is often used as synonymous with Antipathy.

{202} This is a case of association, which deserves a little attention. The idea of the cause of a painful sensation is so closely associated with that of the sensation, that the one never exists without the other. But this is not all. The anticipation of the future from the passed, is so strong an association, that, in interesting cases, it is indissoluble. The thought of the Cause of a passed painful sensation, is the idea of an antecedent and a consequent. The idea of the passed antecedent and consequent is instantly followed by that of a future antecedent and consequent; and thus the feeling partakes of the nature of the anticipation of a future painful sensation. The association may be but momentary, as it may instantly be checked by other associations. But, being momentary, it existed, and its existence is sufficient to account for the difference, which is often observable, between the state of consciousness when the sensation is remembered, and the state of consciousness when the cause of the sensation is remembered. When the sensation is remembered singly, there is not that association of a passed antecedent and consequent, which is instantly followed by that of a future antecedent and consequent of the same kind. That association takes place in the case of the remembered cause; and hence the difference, with which every man is acquainted.

{203} The thought of the cause of a passed agreeable sensation or sensations, is also very often an interesting state of consciousness. It is called by the names both of Sympathy, and Love. Neither of the terms is confined to this signification; they are both, therefore, bad names, and a great cause of confusion of ideas; as we shall see in other instances hereafter.

The pleasurable sensations not being so pungent as the painful, it but rarely happens that the immediate cause of a single passed pleasurable sensation is an object of interest: the cause of the cessation, however, of a painful sensation is so, not unfrequently. The traveller, who was ready to perish with thirst in the desert, can never afterwards think of the well which relieved him, without emotion.

The states of consciousness which exist when we contemplate the causes of our painful and pleasurable sensations as Future, are easily analysed, after what has been shewn. It is a case of the anticipation of the future from the passed; with this peculiarity, that {204} the final antecedent and consequent are interesting, the one as a pleasurable or painful Feeling, the other as the cause of it.

If the anticipated sensation is painful, and contemplated as certain, the associated ideas of the cause and effect constitute a state of consciousness, which we mark by various forms of expression, but for which we have no appropriate name. We call it Hatred, we call it Aversion, we call it Horror. We call the object hateful, or disgusting, or loathsome, according to the nature of the anticipated sensation. When the sensation is contemplated as not certainly future, the state of mind is what we call Dread, in some one or other of its numerous modifications.

When the cause of a pleasure is contemplated as certainly future, such object is associated with the feeling called Joy; when it is contemplated as not certainly future, it is associated with the feeling called Hope. What the feelings, Joy, and Hope, are, we have so recently seen, that it cannot be forgotten. In the association of the cause of a pleasure with both, the state of consciousness has no more appropriate name than that of Love. An object contemplated as a future cause of future pleasure, is an object loved, whether the anticipation is certain or uncertain.

{206} SECTION II.

THE REMOTE CAUSES OF PLEASURABLE AND PAINFUL SENSATIONS, CONTEMPLATED AS PAST, OR FUTURE.

Before entering into the detail of this part of the subject, one important observation is to be made; that the remote causes of our Pains and Pleasures are apt to be objects, far more deeply interesting, than those which are immediate. This at first sight appears paradoxical. It is the necessary result, however, of the general Law of our nature.

The immediate causes of our pleasurable and painful sensations have never any very extensive operation. The idea of any one is rarely associated with more than a limited number of pains or pleasures. Food, for example, the cause of the pleasures of eating; pleasures, perhaps, from the frequency with which they are repeated, and the portion of life over which they are spread, more valuable, as a class, than any other which we enjoy; has never appeared an object of sufficient interest, to make the affection with which it is regarded be thought worthy of a name. The idea of Food, though associated with pleasures which constitute so important a class, is associated with the pleasures but of one class: some of the remote causes are associated with the pleasures of almost every class. Money, for example, instrumental in procuring the causes of almost all our pleasures, and removing the {207} causes of a large proportion of our pains, is associated with the ideas of most of the pleasurable states of our nature. The idea of an object associated with a hundred times as many pleasures as another, is of course a hundred times more interesting.

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SUB-SECTION I.

Wealth, Power, and Dignity, and their Contraries, Contemplated as Causes of our Pleasures and Pains.

As among the remote causes of our pleasures and pains may be reckoned everything which in any way contributes to them, it follows that the number of such causes is exceedingly great. Of course it is only the principal cases which have been attended to, and classed under Titles. They are mostly comprehended under the following:--Wealth, Power, Dignity, as regards the pleasurable sensations;--Poverty, Impotence, Contemptibility, as regards the painful sensations. What our states of consciousness are, when we are said to contemplate these causes of pains and pleasures, with reference to ourselves, or as causes of our own pleasures and pains, we now proceed to inquire.

One remarkable thing is first of all to be noticed: the three, above named, grand causes of our pleasures agree in this, that they all are the means of procuring for us the Services of our fellow-creatures, and themselves contribute to our pleasures in hardly any other way. It is obvious from this remark, that the grand {208} cause of all our pleasures are the services of our fellow-creatures; since Wealth, Power, and Dignity, which appear to most people to sum up the means of human happiness, are nothing more than means of procuring those services. This is a fact of the highest possible importance, both in Morals, and in Philosophy.

That Wealth, Power, and Dignity do procure for us pleasurable sensations only by procuring for us the services of our fellow-creatures, a short illustration will suffice to shew.

Wealth enables us either to purchase directly the services of other men, as of those whom we desire to have in attendance about us; or to purchase commodities; or, it adds to our Power and Dignity. As far as it purchases the services of others directly, the truth of what we have advanced is obvious. It is hardly less obvious, that when we purchase commodities, which are the fruit of other men's labour, we, in reality, do nothing but purchase the services of those men, who, in fact, were working for us, when working at the goods which we ultimately consume. In as far as Wealth adds to Power, and Dignity, it is included under those several heads.

A man's Power means the readiness of other men to obey him. Now one man obeys another, from the prospect, either of good if he obeys, or of evil if he does not obey. Wealth is the great means of procuring obedience, through the medium of good. All hire of services, is through that medium. The power of inflicting evil, in case of disobedience, and of procuring services by fear, is what in the more peculiar sense, is meant by the term Power. It is to be {209} observed, that the range of obedience, obtained by fear, is capable of much greater enlargement, than that which is obtained by hope. The means any man has of paying for the services of others, extends at most to some thousands; the means which some men have had of imposing their commands on other men, through fear, has extended to many millions.

Dignity is a word of much more vague signification, than Wealth, or Power. It is, therefore, much more difficult, to describe clearly its mode of operation.

Dignity, is commonly said to be that which procures us the respect of other men. But what is this respect? It is not a mere barren feeling in the mind of another man, regarded as wholly unconnected with his actions. It is regarded as a sentiment in his breast, from which actions favourable to us may proceed. It derives its whole value to us from the actions which it is likely to produce.

For the present purpose, therefore, we consider the word Dignity, as expressing all that, in, and about, a man, which is calculated to procure him the services of others, without the immediate application either of reward, or of fear.

Wealth, and Power, are the grand constituents of Dignity; and procure a man services beyond the immediate sphere, either of the good, or the evil, he can dispense. This is a remarkable case of association; and a source of very important consequences in human life.

Our proneness to sympathize with the Rich and Great, has often been taken notice of, as a remarkable phenomenon in human nature. This has been described {210} as a readiness to go along with them in their affections; to desire the accomplishment of their ends; and to lend ourselves for the attainment of them.

I believe it will be sufficient, if I barely indicate the mode of analysing the complicated sentiment, which is thus described. With command over the means of all sorts of pleasures, we associate strongly the idea of happiness; the idea of happiness, is an agreeable idea; and the idea of whatever disturbs it, painful. The first idea is a desire; the second, an aversion.

Beside this; with the Power of dispensing a great deal of good, or evil, we associate strongly the idea of the actual dispensation; that is, the idea of a great number of individuals benefited, or hurt. But no association of good or evil to individuals is so constant and inseparable with the causes of them, as that of good or evil to ourselves. This association takes place in the case which we are now considering. It may have been but momentary. It may have been instantly overpowered by other associations, by association of the circumstances which exclude the Belief. Still it had a momentary existence; and, in its consequences, presents a remarkable instance of those two very important facts, first pointed out distinctly to the attention of philosophers by Professor Stewart; First, that feelings, so momentary as not to be recognised the moment after they have passed, may not only have existed, but have given its whole character to some important phenomenon of the human mind; and, Secondly, that there is no conception, that is, idea, without the momentary belief of the existence {211} of its object. The momentary conception and belief of good and evil to ourselves, in the association constituting the idea of a man of wealth and power, has a great share in the character which that association bears.

The Power of doing good or evil, though the foundation of our idea of Dignity, is not the only ingredient in it; the Disposition to make use of it enters for a great share. The disposition to make use of it only for evil, if carried, to a certain pitch, would {212} sink the idea of dignity, and leave dread and abhorrence in its place.

Beside the disposition to make a good use of wealth and power, which is virtue; Knowledge, and Wisdom enter as an important ingredient in Dignity. In the possessor of wealth and power, they are necessary to give effect to his good disposition; in all men they are an instrument of power; and they are intimately associated, in well-educated minds, with the idea of the great benefits to mankind, which have been, and will be, derived from them. In such minds, they, therefore, inspire a very lively sympathy.

I do not think it necessary to lengthen this exposition, by offering any analysis of the corresponding causes of pain,--Poverty, Weakness, and Contemptibility. The reader, after what he has learned, will, without difficulty, perform it for himself

What we have now to consider, is the affection or state of mind, which is formed, when we contemplate each of those causes, first, as the past cause of past sensations, and secondly, as the future cause of future sensations.

We are singularly ill-provided with names, to mark those several states of our consciousness. It is very obvious, that we ought to have two names for each cause; for example, one, to mark the state of mind, when Wealth is contemplated as the past cause, of past sensations, and one to mark the state of mind, when it is contemplated as the future cause of future sensations. We have but one name for both. We call by the single name, "Love of Wealth," both the pleasurable state when we associate with the idea of our past wealth the past pleasures we have derived from it, and {213} when we anticipate the future, and associate with the idea of future wealth, the idea of the pleasures to be derived from it. There is no wonder that the two states should be confounded; and that the love of wealth should be a vague, indefinite term.

The imperfection of our language is the same in regard to the two other causes of our pleasures. The Love of Power, and the Love of Dignity, are names for both states of mind, both the contemplation of the past, and the contemplation of the future. The indistinctness of our language here, too, prevents the distinctness of our ideas.

The word Hatred, renders the same service in regard to the causes of evil. Hatred of poverty, is the name for both states of mind, both that in which the future, and that in which the past, is the object of contemplation. Hatred of imbecility, hatred of contemptibility, are not common expressions, but we have for the states in question no other names.

It is to be observed, that Wealth, Power, and Dignity, derive a great portion of their efficacy, from their comparative amount; that is, from their being possessed in greater quantity than most other people possess them. In contemplating them with the satisfaction with which powerful causes of pleasure are contemplated, we seldom fail to include the comparison. And the state of consciousness, formed by the contemplation and comparison taken together, is called Pride.

We are said to be proud of our Wealth, proud of our Power, proud of our Dignity; and also, of any of the ingredients of which our powder or dignity is {214} composed; of our knowledge, of our eloquence, of our family, of our personal beauty.

Of course the name has a very different meaning in each of these applications; a difference, however, which in ordinary minds, the use of the same term, almost completely confounds.

It is obvious, that, in the contemplation of our own Wealth, Power, and Dignity, as greater, we include the contemplation of another man's Wealth, Power, and Dignity, as less. As the state of consciousness, thus formed, is called Pride when the reference is to ourselves, it is called Contempt when the reference is to others.

When the case is reversed, and a man contemplates his Wealth, Power, and Dignity as less than those of other men, the state of consciousness is called Humility. As towards the other member of the comparison, the men who possess the greater amount of those advantages, it has the name of Respect, or Admiration.

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SUB-SECTION II.

Our Fellow-Creatures contemplated as Causes of our Pleasures and Pains.

Wealth, Power, and Dignity, being the origin of such powerful affections as we find them to be, though the causes of Pleasure to us only by being the causes of the actions of our Fellow-creatures; it would be wonderful, if our Fellow-creatures themselves, the {215} more immediate causes of those actions, should not be the origin of affections.

This is not the case. Our Fellow-creatures are the origin of affections of the greatest influence in human life; to the examination of which it is now our business to proceed. It is, in the first place, however, to be observed, that Wealth, Power, and Dignity, afford perhaps the most remarkable of all examples of that extraordinary case of association, where the means to an end, means valuable to us solely on account of their end, not only engross more of our attention than the end itself, but actually supplant it in our affections. What the associating process is by which this effect is produced, we need not stay to inquire. That it is produced, to a remarkable degree, in the case of Wealth, Power, and Dignity, is familiar to every man's observation. How few men seem to be at all concerned about their fellow-creatures! How completely are the lives of most men absorbed, in the pursuits of wealth, and ambition! With how many men does the love of Family, of Friend, of Country, of Mankind, appear completely impotent, when opposed to their love of Wealth, or of Power! This is an effect of misguided association, which requires the greatest attention in Education, and Morals.

We contemplate our Fellow-creatures as causes of our Pleasures, either Individually, or in Groups. We shall consider the several cases, which have attracted sufficient attention to be distinguished by names: 1st, That of Friendship; 2dly, That of Kindness; 3dly, That of Family; 4thly, That of Country; 5thly, That of Party; and 6thly, That of Mankind.

{216} 1.--Friendship.

In what manner the associations are formed constituting that feeling towards another man which we call friendship, it seems not very difficult to trace. The states of circumstances in which the Feeling originates are very numerous. But they are all, without exception, of one kind. They are all states of circumstances, in which a greater proportion than usual of our own pleasures, come to be associated with the idea of the Individual. It often originates in companionship, between men who for some time have indulged their Tastes, and prosecuted their pleasures in company. It is perfectly obvious how the idea of such men will occur to one another, not simply as the idea of a man, but so enveloped by the trains of pleasurable ideas associated with the man, that the idea of him is upon the whole a highly pleasurable idea. When to this is added, the expectation of future pleasures, not merely the continuation of the companionship, but services of importance; when the wisdom of the man promises light and guidance from his counsels; when his fidelity makes it safe to trust him; when his benevolence towards us makes us count upon his services, whenever they are required, and his reputation and influence in the world are such as to give weight to his endeavours, there is a sufficient accumulation of pleasurable ideas with that of the individual to account for the affection denominated Friendship.

2.--Kindness.

There is nothing which more instantly associates with itself the ideas of our own Pleasures, and Pains, {217} than the idea of the Pleasures and Pains of another of our Fellow-creatures. The expositions already afforded sufficiently indicate the source of this association, which exerts a powerful and salutary influence in human life.

The idea of a man enjoying a train of pleasures, or happiness, is felt by every body to be a pleasurable idea. The idea of a man under a train of sufferings or pains, is equally felt to be a painful idea. This can arise from nothing but the association of our own pleasures with the first idea, and of our own pains with the second. We never feel any pains and pleasures but our own. The fact, indeed, is, that our very idea of the pains or pleasures of another man is only the idea of our own pains, or our own pleasures, associated with the idea of another man. This is one not of the least important, and curious, of all cases of association, and instantly shews how powerfully associated trains of ideas of our pains and pleasures must be with a feeling so compounded.

{218} The Pleasurable association composed of the ideas of a man and his pleasures, and the painful association composed of the ideas of a man and his pains, are both Affections, which have so much of the same tendency that they are included under one name, Kindness; though the latter affection has a name appropriate to itself, Compassion.

3.--Family.

The Group, which consists of a Father, Mother, and Children, is called a Family. The associations which each member of this group has of his pains and pleasures, with the pains and pleasures of the other members, constitute some of the most interesting states of human consciousness.

The affection of the husband and wife is, in its origin, that of two persons of different sex, and need {219} not be further analysed. To this source of pleasurable association is added, when the union is happy, all those other associations, just enumerated, which constitute the affection of Friendship. To this another addition is made by the union of interests; or that necessity, under which both are placed, of receiving pain and pleasure from the same causes. As, in too many instances, these pleasurable associations are extinguished, by the generation of others of an opposite description; in other cases, they are carried to such a height, as to afford an exemplification of that remarkable state of mind, in which a greater value is set upon the means, than upon the end. Persons have been found, the one of whom could not endure to live without the other.

The Parental affection requires to be somewhat more minutely analysed.

First of all, there can be no doubt, that all that power of exciting trains of ideas of our own pains and pleasures, which belongs to the pains and pleasures of any of our fellow-creatures, is possessed by the pains and pleasures of a man's child.

In the next place, it is well known that the pains and pleasures of another person affect us; that is, associate with themselves the ideas of our own pains and pleasures, with more or less intensity, according to the attention which we bestow upon his pains or pleasures. A parent is commonly either led or impelled to bestow an unusual degree of attention upon the pains and pleasures of his child; and hence a habit is contracted of sympathizing with him, as it is commonly, and not insignificantly named; in other words, a facility of associating the ideas of {220} his own pains and pleasures, with those of the child.

Again, a man looks upon his child as a cause to him of future pains or pleasures, much more certain, than any other person. The father regards the son somewhat in the light of another self, a great proportion of the effects of whose acts, whether good or evil, will redound to himself. An object regarded as a great future cause to us of future pains or pleasures, we call an object of intense interest; in other words, a train of interesting ideas, that is, of ideas of pains or pleasures, is associated with it.

The vivacity and simplicity of the expressions of the pains and pleasures of children, in their looks, and tones, and attitudes, as well as words, give them a peculiar power of exciting sympathy, that is, of associating with them trains of the analogous feelings of ourselves. The frequency with which a parent is called upon to attend to those expressions in his child, gives him a habit of forming the associations to which they lead.

The perfect dependence of the child upon the parent is a source of deep interest. The whole of its pleasures being the fruit of his acts, he more easily associates with them the trains of his own pleasures, than with those of any person not so connected with him. His acts, too, being required to save it from the worst of pains, and from destruction, the idea of its pains, arising from any relaxation of his care, calls up, in strong association, both the analogous pains of himself, and also the opposite pleasurable feelings arising from the continuance of the acts by which the pleasures of the child are produced. And to all these {221} sources of association is added, that which is always agreeable, the train making up the idea of our own power; no case of power being so perfect as that of the parent over his helpless offspring.

Another important source of agreeable association is yet to be mentioned. Man becomes fond (it is a matter of daily observation) of that on which he has frequently conferred benefits. This is a fact of considerable importance in human nature; for, under the little care which hitherto has been bestowed in generating, by education, the associations on which Beneficence depends, a considerable part of the beneficence existing in the world has been produced by this cause. It is also a case of association, which strongly illustrates the fact, that pleasures, produced by our own acts, have a peculiar power in associating with them trains of the ideas of our own pleasures. Not only a Fellow-creature, but even one of the lower animals, by having been the object of repeated acts of kindness, becomes an object of affection. Trains of our own pleasures are so often united with the idea of such an object of our kindness, that the idea of the object becomes at last an idea made up of the original idea of the individual and of trains of our own pleasures: a compound idea, made up, in great part, of pleasurable ideas; that is, an Affection.

That the whole of the parental affection is derived from these and similar associations, is proved by some decisive facts.

Whenever it happens that a man is placed in circumstances which produce those associations, he feels the parental affection, without parentage. Facts of this description are so frequent, and so notorious, that {222} it is hardly necessary to produce an instance of them. How else does it happen, that a man who does not suspect the infidelity of his wife, rears as his own, and without any difference of affection, the offspring of the man who has injured him? Cases, for the credit of our nature, are not wanting, and when education is better, they will be less rare, in which a family of orphans is taken under the protection of a man of virtue. By acting towards them the part of a parent, he never fails to acquire for them the affection of a parent.

There are equally notorious and decisive facts to prove, that whenever the parent is placed in circumstances which either wholly, or to a great degree, prevent the formation of the associations with the child to which we ascribe the parental affection, there is a corresponding want of the affection. The case of illegitimate children is pregnant with evidence to this point. In the great majority of cases of this description, no affection exists. The parent may feel the obligation of maintaining the child, because public opinion, or perhaps the law, requires it: but this is the extent of the bond.

The circumstances of Families, in the two opposite states, of great poverty, and great opulence, are unfavourable to the formation of those associations of which the parental affection consists.

In cases of extreme poverty, which alone are the cases here understood; because, in the more moderate cases of poverty, the parental affection exists in considerable strength; the circumstances which lead to the formation of agreeable associations with the child, are either wanting, or counteracted by circumstances {223} of an opposite tendency. The parent has little the means of bestowing pleasures on his child; he has not the means of saving it from an almost constant series of pains. The means which he employs in saving the child from pains, are taken from the means of saving himself from pains. Constantly occupied in the labours which yield him a scanty means of subsistence, he spends but little time in the company of his child, and has therefore little opportunity of attending to the engaging expressions of its pains and pleasures. It is needless to carry the enumeration of particulars farther. The circumstances which tend to generate agreeable associations with the child are few. The circumstances which tend to generate painful associations with it are many.

In Families of great opulence, the attention of the parent, averted either by the calls of pleasure, or the avocations which his position in society creates, is but little bestowed upon his children. Where the pains and pleasures of others are not attended to, no association with those pains and pleasures exists; where there is not a habit of forming the associations, the Affection does not exist.

The mode in which the child of the man of opulence is maintained and educated, proceeds so remotely from the acts of the parent, that the agreeable associations, which we have with our own acts of beneficence, are, in the case of such a parent, very imperfectly formed.

The man of opulence naturally regards his children as part of his state; as the inheritors of his fortune; or as belonging to the same line of ancestors with himself; and with both those constituents of his {224} dignity he has many agreeable associations. But these are an imperfect substitute for the habits of agreeable association which are generated in more favourable circumstances.

Hitherto, we have considered only the parental affection of the Father. The parental affection of the Mother differs from that of the Father in the associations which she forms with her child in her own peculiar situations of gestation and nursing. That these are such as to create intense associations every one will admit. Every movement of the child during the period of gestation is to her a sensation. Every thought of it is connected with that flood of hopes and fears attached to the awful hour, never absent from her thoughts, which, through a series of cruel pains, will either stretch her a lifeless corpse, or render her a rejoicing mother. As a nurse, the child is to her a source, both of agreeable sensations, and agreeable ideas. On the sensations we need not dilate. They are known only to those who have experienced them. But it is not possible to conceive a case more calculated to associate strongly the ideas of our own pleasures, with the ideas of the pleasures we bestow, than that of the mother, when she presses her infant to her bosom, and communicates to him the means of life, and the only pleasures he is capable of enjoying, not only by her own acts, but from her own substance; and when she perceives how soon in the mind of the child, the idea of herself is associated with the existence of all his pleasures, and the removal of all his pains; in other words, how quickly she becomes not only the object of his affections, but the one and only object.

{225} Having explained at so much length the grand case of the Domestic Affections, we may pass over the rest with a very cursory notice.

Even the Filial affection has in it nothing peculiar. In the child, the idea of his parent, as a being with power almost unlimited over him, creates the associations which constitute reverence, and respect; and the perpetual use of that power on the part of the parent to give him pleasures, or the command of pleasures, to remove from him pains, or give him the means of removing them, naturally creates the associations which constitute affection.

The affection which exists among Brothers and Sisters, has in it most of the ingredients which go to the formation of Friendship. There is first of all Companionship; the habit of enjoying pleasures, in common, and also of suffering pains: hence a great readiness in sympathizing with one another; that is, in associating trains of their own pains and pleasures, with the pains and pleasures of one another. There is next, when the Education is good, a constant reciprocation, to the extent of their power, of beneficent acts. And lastly there is their common relation to the grand source of all their pleasures, the Parent.

When the affections of the domestic class exist in perfection (in such a state of Education and Morals as ours this rarely can happen), they afford so constant a succession of agreeable trains, that they form, perhaps, the most valuable portion of human happiness. Acts of beneficence to larger masses of mankind, afford still more interesting trains to those who perform them. But they are the small number. The happiness of the Domestic affections is open to all.

{226} 4.--Country.

The word country is the name of an idea of great complexity. In that idea are included all the multitudes of persons, and all the multitudes of things, and all the multitudes of positions, in a certain portion of the Globe of the Earth. Nor are these present existences alone included in that idea: the HISTORY of the country is included, that is, the whole series of prior existences; and not the PAST HISTORY only, but the FUTURE HISTORY also, or series of future existences, as far as our power of anticipation reaches. This is a remarkable example of the power of association, to unite ideas without number in such closeness, that their individuality is unperceived, and the cluster, however large, resembles a single uncompounded idea.

This cluster is not wholly made up of indifferent ideas. There is included in it the sources of all our pleasures, and almost all the objects with which we have been accustomed to associate trains of agreeable ideas. The plains, the mountains, the valleys, the rivers, with which we have formed agreeable associations, are all there; the individual objects with which we have formed similar associations, the trees, the houses; the house, for example, in which we were born, the tree under which we have sat to enjoy the affections of our parents, or indulge our sympathies with other objects of our love, the paths in which we have strayed, the fields through which we have roamed, the riches wherewith we have seen them periodically clothed, the labours of those fields, the labourers, their manners, appearance, and character, {227} the flocks and herds, the cities and towns, with all their inhabitants, and all their operations, the wonderful proceedings of the manufacturers, the arrival and departure of ships, loaded with the precious commodities of the different regions of the Earth.

To these sources of Interest is to be added, all that portion of our fellow-creatures with whom we have been accustomed to associate our Pains and Pleasures. Here are our Parents, our Brothers and Sisters, our Sons and Daughters. Here are the men, and here the women, who have engaged our affections. Here are our Benefactors, here are our Instructors, here are the manners which alone from habit are agreeable to us. And here are the Institutions from which we have derived Protection, and to which, in their usual state of imperfection, we are apt to lend a reverence, such is the strength of the association, far beyond the measure of their worth.

Sufficient sources have now been pointed out, to shew whence it is that the Idea of country, as it involves a great number of agreeable associations, becomes, or more properly speaking is, an Affection,

5.--Party; Class.

That which constitutes a Party, or class, is always some community of Interest: in other words, some thing or things, to be obtained, secured, or augmented, by the common endeavours of the class, and operating as a cause of pleasure to all of them.

The People, that is, the Mass of the community, are sometimes called a class; but that is only to distinguish them, like the term Lower Orders, from the {228} Aristocratical class. In the proper meaning of the term class, it is not applicable to the People. No interest is in common to them, which is not in common to the rest of the community. There is nothing which can operate as a cause of benefit to them exclusively. Whatever operates as a cause of benefit to them in common, operates equally as a cause of benefit to every part of the community, saving and excepting those who are in possession of some mischievous power over a portion, greater or less, of the community. It may no doubt very easily happen, that what is a benefit to the rest of the community, is an evil to the possessors of such power; as what is an evil, and the greatest of all Evils, to the Community, is a Benefit to them.

There is no Love of Class, therefore, but in a Privileged Order. The Patricians, in ancient Rome, were a Class of this sort. And in modern Europe there are two such classes: the Nobility, in each Country: and the Incorporated Clergy; calling themselves the Church, in Catholic countries, the Established Church, in Non-catholic countries.

The associations which the members of a governing class have with one another, individually, as fathers, sons, companions, friends, are not here to be taken into account. The associations connected with the privileges which constitute any body of men a class, are alone concerned in forming the states of mind which we now are explaining.

Such privileges consist of Wealth, Power, Dignity, one, or all, conferred by Legislative act: that is, not the result of natural acquisition, but of a sort of force, or compulsion, put upon other people.

{229} We need not again enter into an explanation of the agreeable associations which every man has with his own Wealth, Power, and dignity, and with the causes, either of their existence, or of their increase, or of their security. When these causes to one man, are causes also to a circle of other men, the whole Body has both individually and collectively the associations with those causes, which constitute Affection.

6.--Mankind.

The word Mankind is the name of another of those remarkable associations, by which countless ideas are so combined, that their individuality is sunk, and the aggregate is, to appearance, one idea.

The Idea Mankind, like the Idea Country, is not made up wholly of indifferent ideas. It has in it all the trains of pleasurable ideas which we associate, either with individuals, or with subdivisions, of the whole mass.

We have interesting associations with the idea of a man, as a man. The idea of his pains, and his pleasures, call up, unavoidably, trains of the ideas of our own pains and pleasures. The Idea of a man, therefore, naturally includes, the love of his pleasures, hatred of his pains.

From our earliest Infancy, we have had experience of nothing more constantly than this; that a great proportion of our pleasures proceeded from a certain disposition towards us, on the part of those of our fellow-creatures who were near us; and a great proportion of our Pains from a certain other disposition on their part. Those Dispositions, taken in the most {230} general sense, are Kindness, which we have already explained; and its opposite, Unkindness. We have, therefore, very intense associations of Pleasure, with the idea of the Disposition towards us, called Kindness, in other men; and very intense associations of Pain with that of the Disposition in them called Unkindness towards us.

In our Idea of each individual man, therefore, is included not only the Love of his Pleasures and Aversion to his Pains; but, in addition to this, the Love of his Disposition of Kindness towards us, and Aversion to his Disposition of Unkindness towards us.

Now, as our complex Idea of Mankind, is made up of the aggregate of the ideas of Individuals, including the interesting trains called Love of their Pleasures, Hatred of their Pains; Love of their Kindness, Aversion to their Unkindness; the generation of the affection, called Love of Mankind, is, for our present purpose, sufficiently shewn.

That the Emotions are all compounded of elements of Sense (in the widest comprehension, that is, with Muscularity included) may be maintained on good grounds. Nevertheless, in order to a satisfactory analysis of even the commoner emotions, such as Tenderness, there is wanted a more exhaustive detail of the pleasures and pains of sense than is furnished in the present work.

A few remarks on the generic example of the Tender Feeling, on which the author has expended the greatest part of his illustration, will show the method to be pursued. It is a case where certain primary sensibilities, correctly ranked under Sensation, together with the associating principle, seem to account for the whole of the phenomenon. In such a case as Wonder, the explanation involves an additional element.

The pleasures of Tender Feeling, or Love and the Affections, are no doubt, as remarked in the text, in a considerable part associations with other pleasures, such as nourishment. An animal and a child would contract a pleasurable association with the person that brings them their food, or ministers to their bodily wants. Still, there is something different from this in Tenderness or Love. The fact essential to the state is the gratification from the acts of caressing, fondling, and embracing; a pleasure that has its independent sources in the human and animal sensibilities, and does not need the association with being fed and cared for, although enhanced and stimulated by that association. Even apart from the powerful element of sexuality, there is a great mass of pleasurable animal feeling awakened in the loving embrace of two individuals of the warm-blooded species. We may instance, among these, the pleasures of Touch in the soft warm contact; the muscular pleasures co-operating; the organic feelings connected with secretions stimulated in the act, of which the lachrymal is the prominent but not the solitary case; the peculiar sensibility of the pharynx, which is probably the sign of a less acute but more extended influence in the alimentary canal generally; to all which, is to be added, in women, the genial secretion of the breasts, going on incessantly, although more profuse in nursing mothers. The coalition of these tactile, muscular, and organic sensibilities, is the pleasure of love by itself, or as it might be felt between two living sentient creatures, in no other way the givers or receivers of benefits. Nor does this exhaust the circle. The eye, and the ear, and even the smell, may be also included. The visible aspects of living beings are often highly agreeable from the first, and become so to a farther extent by association with the tactile and organic pleasures. Similarly, the ear may be charmed with the sounds emitted by another human being or animal, and may also form associations with the still more potent pleasures above named. Once more, the odour of one animal may be intrinsically sweet to another animal; while here too, associations may be added.

The pleasure of Tender feeling must therefore be pronounced to have an independent standing in the sentient framework, although susceptible of being analysed into the primary pleasures of the senses, together with the influence of association. All the affections derive the chief part of their strength from this complex source. For, although the acts of fondling and caressing are not universally practised between every two persons that have a mutual affection, or are so only in the very limited form of the shake of the hand, yet there is an echo of these, and a stimulus to the organic accompaniments, in the sight of each other, in the sounds of the voice, and in the more intellectual forms of indicating attachment. It can be proved that the two higher senses enter deeply into the tender emotion, (as they do into the Beautiful). The well-known Dr. Kitto, who was stone-deaf, in describing his experience, states that, as regarded his pleasures, the loss that affected him most was his inability to hear the voices of his children. It is evident that the same remark, as to the mutilation of an organ of tender feeling, is applicable to the blind. The pathos of the lines in Paradise Lost contains this implication.--B.]

The author, then, has furnished a most satisfactory and most valuable explanation of certain of the laws of our affections and passions, and has traced the origin and generation of a great number of them. But it must be remarked of the whole exposition, that it accounts truly, but only partially, for this part of human nature. It affords a sufficient theory of what we may call the mental, or intellectual element of the feelings in question. But it does not furnish, nor does the author anywhere furnish, any theory of what may be called the animal element in them. Yet this is no unimportant ingredient in the emotional and active part of human nature: and it is one greatly demanding analysis. Let us take the case of any of the passions: and as one of the simplest as well as one of the most powerful of them, let us take the emotion of Fear. The author gives no account of Fear but that it is the idea of a painful sensation, associated with the idea of its being (more or less uncertainly) future. Undoubtedly these elements are present in it; but do they account for the peculiar emotional character of the passion, and for its physiological effect, such as pallor, trembling, faltering of the voice, coldness of the skin, loss of control over the secretions, and general depression of the vital powers? The case would be simpler if these great disturbances of the animal functions by the expectation of a pain were the same in kind as the smaller modifications produced by the mere idea. This, however, is by no means the case; Ideas do produce effects on the animal economy, but not those particular effects. The idea of a pain, if it acts on the bodily functions at all, has an action the same in kind (though much less in degree) as the pain itself would have. But the passion of fear has a totally different action. Suppose the fear to be that of a flogging. The flogging itself, if it produced any physical demonstrations, would produce cries, shrinkings, possibly muscular struggles, and might by its remoter effects disturb the action of the brain or of the circulation; and if the fear of a flogging produced these same effects, in a mitigated degree, the power of fear might be merely the power of the idea of the pain. But none of these are at all like the characteristic symptoms of fear: while those characteristic symptoms are much the same whatever be the particular pain apprehended, and whether it be a bodily or a purely mental pain, provided it be sufficiently intense and sufficiently proximate. No one has ever accounted for this remarkable difference, and the author of the Analysis does not even mention it. The explanation of it is one of those problems, partly psychological and partly physiological, which our knowledge of the laws of animal sensibility does not yet enable us to resolve. In whatever manner the phenomena are produced, they are a case of the quasi-chemistry of the nervous functions, whereby the junction of certain elements generates a compound whose properties are very different from the sum of the properties of the elements themselves.

This is the point which the author's explanations of the emotional part of human nature do not reach, and, it may even be said, do not attempt to reach. Until, however, it is reached, there is no guarantee for the completeness of his analysis of even the mental element in the passions: for when the effect exhibits so much which has not, in the known properties of the assigned cause, anything to account for it, there is always room for a doubt whether some part of the cause has not been left out of the reckoning. This doubt, however, does not seriously affect the most important of the author's analyses, viz. those which, without resolving the emotions themselves into anything more elementary, expound their transfer by association from their natural objects to others; with the great increase of intensity and persistency which so often accompanies the transfer, and which is in general quite sufficiently accounted for by the causes to which the author refers it.--Ed.]

* * * * *

SUB-SECTION III.

The Objects called Sublime and Beautiful, and their Contraries, contemplated as Causes of our Pleasures and Pains.

These objects have received much of the attention of Philosophers; and great progress has been made in {231} analysing the associations which form the complicated feelings, ranged under the name of Emotions of the Sublime and Beautiful.

{232} It does not belong to the present purpose to go into the details of this subject, which, for obvious reasons, have been pursued to great length. It is necessary, {233} however, for that purpose, to shew, into what general laws the phenomena are capable of being resolved.

The feelings which are marked under the name of {234} Emotions of the Sublime and Beautiful, are so much alike, that the distinction of them into two species is somewhat arbitrary. Though the Romans did apply {235} the word sublimis, and its abstract, sublimitas, in a certain rhetorical way, to objects of Taste, their word Pulchrum, properly denoted all that is expressed by {236} our Sublime and Beautiful, taken together. The Greek word, [Greek: kalo/n], also clearly included every thing which we rank under the name of Sublime. Longinus, indeed, who lived at a very late and degenerate period of Grecian literature, wrote a treatise to which he gave the affected Title, [Greek: Pe/ri U(psou=s], or "About Height;" and as that has been a very popular treatise in modern times, it is not improbable, that the use of the word Sublime, which has become so prevalent in the discourse of the moderns, derives its origin from no higher source.

Mr. Alison, who wrote a very pleasing, and, to a certain degree, a Philosophical Book, on the Emotions of Taste, has shewn by an abundance of well-chosen illustrations, that it is not the immediate sensations, received by us from the objects of Taste, which constitute them a cause of our pleasures. The immediate sensations are commonly indifferent, or approaching the indifferent. It is only when they introduce, by association, a train of pleasurable ideas, that the feelings called the pleasures of Taste, are ever enjoyed.

I believe that I may assume this as an established {237} fact in our nature; and I shall only adduce as much of the evidence as may teach those of my readers, to whom these inquiries may be new, the mode in which the truth of the proposition becomes apparent. I also think it useful to avail myself, not only of the illustrations, but as much as possible of the words, of Mr. Alison, as exhibiting the clear conviction of the wonderful effects of association, in one instance, on the part of a writer, who seems to have had no idea of its affording an equally satisfactory solution of the other complex phenomena of mind.

What are called the external objects of Taste, are mostly objects of Hearing, objects of Sight, or objects of that Muscular Sense, from which we derive the idea of extension.

That the feelings we have by these senses are generically distinct from the emotions of Sublimity and Beauty, might, I imagine, be trusted to an appeal to each man's consciousness. There are innumerable cases, however, which may be regarded as decisive experiments upon the subject.

Of the sounds which can be adduced as Sublime or Beautiful, there is, perhaps, not one, which is not often heard in circumstances, wherein no tendency to Emotion is felt. The circumstances in which the Emotion is felt, and those in which it is not felt, are those in which a train of pleasurable ideas is, or is not, introduced by association.

"All sounds," says Mr. Alison, "are in general SUBLIME, which are associated with Ideas of great Power or Might: the Noise of a Torrent,--the Fall of a Cataract,--the Uproar of a Tempest,--the Explosion of Gunpowder,--the Dashing of the Waves, &c.

{238} "All sounds, in the same manner, are sublime, which are associated with Ideas of Majesty, or Solemnity, or deep Melancholy, or any other strong Emotion: the Sound of the Trumpet, and all other warlike instruments,--the Note of the Organ,--the Sound of the Curfew,--the Tolling of the Passing bell, &c.

"There is a great variety of sounds also, that occur in the scenes of Nature, which are productive of the Emotion of BEAUTY: the Sound of a Waterfall,--the Murmuring of a Rivulet,--the Whispering of the Wind,--the Sheepfold-bell,--the sound of the Curfew, &c.

"That the Notes or Cries of some Animals, are Sublime, every one knows: the Roar of the Lion, the Growling of Bears, the Howling of Wolves, the Scream of the Eagle, &c. In all those cases, those are the notes of animals remarkable for their strength, and formidable for their ferocity. It would seem very natural, therefore, that the sublimity of such sounds should arise from the qualities of which they are expressive.

"The Bleating of a Lamb, is beautiful in a fine day in spring: the Lowing of a Cow at a distance, amid the scenery of a pastoral landscape in summer. The Call of a Goat among rocks is strikingly beautiful, as expressing wildness and independence. The Hum of the Beetle is beautiful in a fine summer evening, as appearing to suit the stillness and repose of that pleasing season. The Twitter of the Swallow is beautiful in the morning, and seems to be expressive of the cheerfulness of that time."

This enumeration of cases, which is only a selection from those of Mr. Alison, is far more than {239} sufficient for the purpose, as indeed it is one defect of his book that his propositions are overlaid with evidence.

That these sounds, as sensations, do not constitute the pleasures enjoyed, he demonstrates, by shewing that on many occasions, on which the sensations exist as perfectly as on any other occasion, no pleasure is felt. He also shews, that when the pleasures are felt, a train of pleasurable ideas is introduced by association.

"The sound of Thunder, he says, is perhaps of all others in Nature, the most Sublime." Yet the rolling of stones from a cart, produces a sound so exactly the same, that it is often mistaken for thunder. While the mistake lasts, the feeling of sublimity lasts. When the mistake is corrected, it instantly vanishes; that is, the association is dissolved.

"There is scarcely in nature," says Mr. Alison, "a more trifling sound than the buzz of Flies; yet, I believe, there is no man of common Taste, who, in the deep silence of a summer's noon, has not found something strikingly sublime, in this inconsiderable sound. The falling of a drop of water, produces in general a very insignificant and unexpressive sound; yet sometimes in Vaults, and in large Cathedrals, a single drop is heard to fall, at distant intervals, from the roof; than which, I know not if there is a single sound more strikingly sublime."

Mr. Alison further remarks, that to those who have no trains of pleasurable ideas associated with sounds, "or who consider them simply as sounds, they have no beauty. It is long before children shew any sensibility to the beauty of sounds. To the greater {240} number of the sounds which we denominate beautiful, the common people, in the same manner, are altogether indifferent. To the peasant, the Curfew is only the mark of the hour of the evening,--the Sheep-bell, the sign of the neighbourhood of the flock,--the sound of a Cascade, the sign of the falling of water, &c. Give him the associations which men of cultivated imagination have with such sounds, and he will infallibly feel their beauty."

Mr. Alison shews, that when the notes or cries of animals are stripped of certain associations, they are unproductive of Emotions of sublimity or beauty. "There is not one of these sounds," he says, "which may not be imitated in some manner or other; and which, while we are ignorant of the deception, does not produce the same Emotion with the real sound: when we are undeceived, however, we are conscious of no other Emotion, but that, perhaps, of simple pain from its loudness. The howl of the Wolf is little distinguished from the howl of the Dog, either in its tone or in its strength, but there is no comparison between their sublimity. Few, if any, of the sounds felt as sublime are so loud as the most common of all sounds, the lowing of a Cow; yet this is the very reverse of sublimity. Imagine this sound, on the contrary, expressive of Fierceness and Strength, and there can be no doubt, that it would become sublime. The scream of the Eagle is simply disagreeable, when the bird is either tamed or confined; it is Sublime, only when it is heard amid Rocks and Deserts, and when it is expressive to us, of Liberty and Independence, and savage Majesty. The noise of the Rattlesnake (that most dangerous animal of all his tribe) {241} is very little different from the noise of a child's play-thing; yet who will deny its sublimity? The growl of the Tiger, resembles the purring of a Cat; the one is sublime, the other insignificant."

Mr. Alison, with great propriety, adds, "Upon the principle of the absolute and independent Sublimity or Beauty of Sounds, it is very difficult to account for the different sounds which have been mentioned as productive of these Emotions. There is certainly no resemblance, as sounds, between the noise of Thunder, and the hissing of a Serpent,--between the growling of a Tiger, and the explosion of Gunpowder,--between the scream of an Eagle, and the shouting of a multitude; yet all of these are sublime. In the same manner, there is as little resemblance, between the tinkling of the Sheepfold-bell, and the murmuring of the Breeze; between the hum of the Beetle and the song of the Lark; between the twitter of the Swallow, and the sound of the Curfew; yet all of these are beautiful. Upon the principle of association, they are all perfectly accountable."

I shall not follow Mr. Alison in his illustrations of the beauty and sublimity felt in the tones of the human voice, or in the composition of sounds, called Music; because I have no doubt but it will be allowed that they derive the whole of what is called their expression,--in other words, their power of pleasing,--from the associations connected with them. I {242} shall also produce a very few specimens of the illustrations which he adduces to show that what is called the Beauty and Sublimity of objects of sight, is derived wholly from association.

That the full physical pleasure of tune is often not experienced at the first hearing, is a consequence of the fact, that the pleasure depends on succession, and therefore on the coexistence of each note with the remembrance of a sufficient number of the previous notes to constitute melody: a remembrance which, of course, is not possessed in perfection, until after a number of repetitions proportioned to the complexity and to the unfamiliar character of the combination.--Ed.]

The following observations are general, and very instructive.

"The greatest part of colours are connected with a kind of established Imagery in our minds, and are considered as expressive of many very pleasing and affecting Qualities.

"These Associations may perhaps be included in the following Enumeration: 1st, Such as arise from {243} the nature of the objects thus permanently coloured: 2ndly, Such as arise from some analogy between certain Colours, and certain Dispositions of mind: and, 3rdly, Such as arise from accidental connexions, whether national or particular.

"1. When we have been accustomed to see any object capable of exciting Emotion, distinguished by some fixed or permanent colour, we are apt to extend to the Colour the Qualities of the object thus coloured, and to feel from it, when separated, some degree of the same emotion which is properly excited by the object itself. Instances of this kind are within every person's observation. White, as it is the colour of Day, is expressive to us of the cheerfulness or gaiety which the return of day brings. Black, as the colour of Darkness, is expressive of gloom and melancholy. The colour of the heavens, in serene weather, is Blue: Blue, is therefore expressive to us of somewhat of the same pleasing and temperate character. Green, is the colour of the Earth, in Spring: it is, consequently, expressive to us of some of those delightful Images which we associate with that season. The expressions of those colours, which are the signs of particular passions in the Human countenance, and which, from this connexion, derive their effect, every one is acquainted with.

"2. There are many colours which derive expression from some analogy we discover between them and certain affections of the Human Mind. Soft or Strong, Mild or Bold, Gay or Gloomy, Cheerful or Solemn, &c., are terms, in all languages, applied to colours; terms obviously metaphorical, and the use of which indicates their connexion with particular {244} qualities of Mind. In the same manner, different degrees or shades of the same colour have similar characters, as Strong, or Temperate, or Gentle, &c. In consequence of this Association,--which is, in truth, so strong, that it is to be found in all mankind,--such colours derive a character from this resemblance, and produce in our mind some faint degree of the same Emotion, which the qualities they express are fitted to produce.

"3. Many colours acquire character from accidental Association. Purple, for instance, has acquired a character of Dignity, from its accidental connexion with the Dress of Kings. The colours of Ermine have a similar character, from the same cause. The colours, in every country, which distinguish the Dress of Magistrates, &c., acquire dignity in the same manner. Every person will, in the same manner, probably, recollect the particular colours which are pleasing to him, from their having been worn by people whom he loved, or from some other accidental association."

That it is not from the sensation, but from those trains of associated Ideas, that the feeling of Beauty in colours, whenever we have it, is derived, he demonstrates, by adducing some well-chosen instances to shew that the sensation may exist as well without the association as with it; and that, as often as it is unaccompanied with the association, it is unaccompanied with any feeling of Beauty. When it has the association. Beauty is felt: when it has not the association, Beauty is not felt. The association, therefore, is the cause of the Beauty.

{245} "Black," says Mr. Alison, "is to us an unpleasant colour, because it is the colour appropriated to mourning. In Venice and Spain, it is agreeable, because it is the colour which distinguishes the dress of the Great. White is beautiful to us, in a supreme degree, as emblematical both of Innocence and Cheerfulness. In China, on the other hand, it is the colour appropriated to Mourning, and, consequently, very far from being generally beautiful.

"The common colours of the indifferent things which surround us,--of the Earth, of Stone, of Wood, &c.,--have no kind of Beauty. The things themselves are so indifferent to us, that they excite no kind of emotion; and, of consequence, their colours produce no greater emotion as the signs of such qualities, than the qualities themselves. The colours, in the same manner, which distinguish the ordinary Dress of the Common People, are never considered as beautiful. It is the colours only of the Dress of the Great, of the Opulent, or of Distinguished Professions, which are ever considered in this light.

"No new colour is ever beautiful, until we have acquired some pleasing associations with it. This is peculiarly observable in the article of Dress; and indeed it is the best instance of it, because no other circumstance intervenes by which the experiment can be influenced. Every man must have observed, that, in the great variety of new colours, which the caprice of Fashion is perpetually introducing, no new colour appears at first sight as beautiful. A few weeks, even a few days alter our opinion; as soon as it is generally adopted by those who lead {246} the public Taste, and has become in consequence the mark of Rank and Elegance, it immediately becomes beautiful.

"When the particular associations we have with such colours, are destroyed, their beauty is destroyed at the same time.

"The different machines, instruments, &c., which minister to the convenience of Life, have, in general, from the materials of which they are composed, or from the uses to which they are applied, a fixed and determinate colour. This colour becomes accordingly in some degree beautiful, from its being the sign of such qualities; change the accustomed colour of such objects, and every man feels a kind of disappointment. This is so strong, that, even if a colour more generally beautiful is substituted, yet still our dissatisfaction is the same; and the new colour, instead of being beautiful, becomes the reverse. Rose-colour, for instance, is a more beautiful colour than that of Mahogany: yet, if any man were to paint his doors and windows with Rose-colour, he would certainly not add to their beauty. The colour of a polished steel grate is agreeable, but is not in itself very beautiful. Suppose it painted green, or violet, or crimson, all of them colours much more beautiful, and the beauty of it is altogether destroyed. Instances of this kind are innumerable."

Whether there is any similar organic basis of the pleasure derived from form, so far at least as this depends on proportion, I would not undertake to decide.

The susceptibility to the physical pleasures produced by colours and musical sounds, (and by forms if any part of the pleasure they afford is physical), is probably extremely different in different organisations. In natures in which any one of these susceptibilities is originally faint, more will depend on association. The extreme sensibility of this part of our constitution to small and unobvious influences, makes it certain that the sources of the feelings of beauty and deformity must be, to a material extent, different in different individuals.--Ed.]

{247} Mr. Alison produces a very long line of illustrations to show that the Beauty of FORMS is not the mere sensation of Form, but consists, as in the case of sounds and colours, in the train of pleasurable ideas associated with the sensation. Mr. Alison is less happy, and more tedious, in the illustration of this than the preceding parts of his subject. We shall make little use of his proofs; because we can arrive, by a short process, at a very satisfactory conclusion.

Mr. Alison seems not to have been aware of the {248} origin of our ideas of Form; and thence in expounding them has found many difficulties which do not in reality belong to the subject. He supposes that Form is altogether a sensation of sight. In a former part of this Inquiry, we ascertained the sensations: we saw that Form, in all its cases, is merely a modification of extension; that it is made known to us, by those feelings, which accompany the motion of certain of our members, as that of a finger, or a hand. Those feelings are in no danger of being confounded with the emotion of Beauty. They are feelings so completely indifferent, that in most of the associations into which the ideas of them enter as essential ingredients they are overlooked, and the very existence of them is commonly unknown.

If the sensation is no cause of the Pleasure derived from Forms, it will not be questioned that association is the cause.

Forms are either Animate or Inanimate. The associations with the Animate only differ from those with the Inanimate, in holding some additional ingredients. Some Forms affect us, by their magnitude, naturally associated with the idea of Power; some, by the uses to which they are applied, as the more powerful instruments of war; some, by the extent of their duration, with which we have obvious associations; some, by the splendour or magnificence, with the ideas of which they are associated,--the Throne, the Diadem, the Triumphal Car.

The natural movements of the arm, from its turning in its socket as round a centre, are all waving; circles, or portions of circles, running into one another. All other movements are forced upon it, {249} and the effect of constraint. Hence the beauty of waving lines, because associated with the agreeable ideas of Ease, and absence of Restraint.

As nothing is more agreeable to us than to trace the operation of design, of successful contrivance, some Forms affect us strongly by the idea of their Fitness, of their adaptation to an End.

Others affect us not only by the idea of their adaptation to an end, but by the value which we attach to the end. In this case it is by their utility that they are said to please us.

We associate with the idea of certain states of the Human Body, or at least of the Bodies of Animals in general, certain inward Dispositions; with great strength we associate great Wilfulness, and little regard of others; with frailness, we associate Delicacy, the ideas of gentleness, compliance, and regard for others. The forms of inanimate objects sometimes bear such an analogy to the Delicate and Frail in human Forms, that the ideas associated with the animate, are called up by the inanimate, and produce the emotion of Beauty.

This emotion, however, is altogether prevented, when the more potent idea of Fitness intervenes. Any thing analogous to the slender form, which is so exquisitely beautiful in the more elegant grasses, would be a real deformity in the oak.

More than one of those sources of agreeable association are often united in the same subject, and increase the emotion produced by it.

Mr. Alison goes on to the exposition of the associations which constitute the Beauty of Motion, and the Beauty of the Human Form and Countenance. {250} But after what has been said, these associations are not difficult to trace; and I have already carried the illustration of this subject farther than I should have done, if I had not regarded this case of Association as affording most important aid toward the developement of all the more mysterious phenomena of the Human Mind.

We have here a class of Pleasures; the Feeling of Beauty, the Feeling of Sublimity; exercising a great influence over all cultivated minds. These Feelings, when taken as objects of general contemplation, appear perfectly simple. To such a degree have they assumed the appearance of simple and original feelings of our nature, even to Philosophers of eminence, that a particular sense has been supposed necessary to account for their existence. Yet all this apparent simplicity is only an exemplification of that association, by which a multitude of ideas are so intimately, and instantaneously blended together, that they appear to be not many ideas, but one idea.

Of this highly important fact, we have had occasion to take notice of various leading cases, before. In the present case, however, there is a peculiarity; which it has in common with the various cases called Affection, which we have recently been engaged in considering. In the cases which occurred for examination, in the earlier part of this Inquiry, where we found long trains of Ideas so blended together, by association, as to appear not many ideas, but one; that of Motion, that of Space, that of Time, that of Personal Identity; the ideas associated were those of indifferent sensations. The ideas, on the other hand, which are associated under the terms {251} Beauty and Sublimity, are ideas of pleasurable sensations. The difference is that which is testified by every man's consciousness.

That there should be a remarkable difference between a train composed of ideas of the indifferent class, and a train composed of ideas of the pleasurable class, can be easily supposed. It is necessary further to observe, that between two trains, both of the pleasurable class, there are such important differences, as to have suggested the use of marking them by different names. Thus, even in the class which we have been now considering, one train is composed of pleasurable ideas, of such a kind, that we call it sublime; another, of pleasurable ideas of such a kind, that we call it Beautiful. From the train of ideas associated with the form of the statue called the Venus de Medicis, we call it beautiful. We have a train of ideas, also pleasurable, associated with the bust of Socrates. But this is a train not reckoned to belong to the class either of the beautiful or the sublime; it is a train including all the grand associations connected with the ideas of intellectual, and moral, worth.

A particular description of the sort of ideas which constitute each of the more remarkable cases of our pleasurable trains (that they are of one kind in one train, of another kind in another train,--of one kind, for example, in the trains called Sublimity, another in the trains called Beauty, another in the trains for which we have no better name than moral approbation, no one can doubt) would be highly necessary in a detailed account of Human Nature. It is not necessary for the Analysis which is the object of this {252} Work; and would engage us in too tedious an exposition.

Any one who has studied the Analysis up to this point, is aware of the inconclusiveness of this last argument. That a complex feeling generated out of a number of single ones, should be as unlike to any of those from which it is generated, as the sensation of white is unlike the sensations of the seven prismatic colours, is no unexampled or rare fact in our sensitive nature.

But it will also, I think, be found, in the case of our feelings of Beauty, and still more, of Sublimity, that the theory which refers their origin mainly to association, is not only not contradictory to facts, but is not even paradoxical. For if our perceptions of beauty and sublimity are of a more imposing character than the feelings ordinarily excited in us by the contemplation of objects, it will be found that the associations which form those impressions are themselves of a peculiarly imposing nature. This is apparent even from Alison; and if the Author of the Analysis had written later, he might have referred to a deeper thinker than Alison, and a more valuable because an unconscious witness to the truth of the Association theory. Mr. Ruskin, with profounder and more thoughtful views respecting the beauties both of Nature and of Art than any {253} psychologist I could name, undertakes, in the second volume of "Modern Painters," to investigate the conditions of Beauty. The result he brings out is, that every thing which gives us the emotion of the Beautiful, is expressive and emblematic of one or other of certain lofty or lovely ideas, which are, in his apprehension, embodied in the universe, and correspond to the various perfections of its Creator. He holds these ideas to be, Infinity, Unity, Repose, Symmetry, Purity, Moderation, and Adaptation to Ends. And he is, in my judgment, to a very considerable degree successful in making out his case. Mr. Ruskin, it is true, never thinks of inferring that our feelings of Beauty are the actual consequence of our having those elevating or cheering ideas recalled to us through manifold channels of association. He deems the emotion to be arbitrarily attached to these ideas by a pre-established harmony. But the evidence which he adduces goes far to prove the other point. If he succeeds, as I think he does, in showing that the things which excite the emotions of beauty or sublimity are always things which have a natural association with certain highly impressive and affecting ideas (whether the catalogue which he has made of those ideas is correct and complete or not), we need no other mode of accounting for the peculiar character of the emotions, than by the actual, though vague and confused, recal of the ideas. It cannot be deemed surprising that a state of consciousness made up of reminiscences of such ideas as Mr. Ruskin specifies, and of the grand and interesting objects and thoughts connected with ideas like those, must be of a more elevated character, and must stir our nature to a greater depth, than those associations of commonplace and every-day pleasures, which often combine with them as parts of the mass of pleasurable feeling set up in us by the objects of Nature and Art. In a windy country, a screen of trees so placed as to be a barrier against the prevailing winds, excites ideas of warmth, comfort, and shelter, which belong to the "agreeable," as distinguished by Coleridge from the Beautiful; and these enter largely into the pleasurable feeling with which we contemplate the trees, without contributing to give {254} them the peculiar character distinctive of æsthetic feelings. But besides these there are other elements constituting the beauty, properly speaking, of the trees, which appeal to other, and what we are accustomed, not without meaning, to call higher, parts of our nature; which give a stronger stimulus and a deeper delight to the imagination, because the ideas they call up are such as in themselves act on the imagination with greater force.

As is observed by the author of the Analysis, the exposition in detail of the associations which enter into our various feelings of the sublime and beautiful, would require the examination of the subject on a scale not suited to the character nor proportioned to the dimensions of this Treatise. Of all our feelings, our acquired pleasures and pains, especially our pleasures, are the most complex; resulting from the whole of our nature and of our past lives, and involving, consequently, a greater multitude and variety of associations than almost any other phenomena of the mind. And among our various pleasures, the æsthetic are without doubt the most complex. It may also be remarked, and is a considerable confirmation of the association theory, that the feelings of beauty or sublimity with which different people are affected by the contemplation of the same object, are evidently as different, as the pleasurable associations of different persons with the same object are likely to be. But there are some ingredients which are universally, or almost universally, present, when the emotions have their characteristic peculiarity; and to which they seem to be mainly indebted for the extraordinary power with which they act on the minds which have the greatest susceptibility to them. These ingredients are probably more numerous and various than is commonly suspected; but some of the most important and powerful of them are undoubtedly pointed to, and illustrated with great force, in the discussion which I have mentioned, by Mr. Ruskin; to whose work I willingly refer the psychological student, as a copious source of at least far-reaching suggestions, and often of much more.

Supposing that all Beauty had been successfully analysed {255} into a lively suggestion of one or more of the ideas to which it is referred by Mr. Ruskin, the question would still remain for psychologists, why the suggestion of those ideas is so impressive and so delightful. But this question may, in general, be answered with little difficulty. It is no mystery, for example, why anything which suggests vividly the idea of infinity, that is, of magnitude or power without limit, acquires an otherwise strange impressiveness to the feelings and imagination. The remaining ideas in Mr. Ruskin's list (at least if we except those which, like Moderation, are chiefly ancillary to the others, by excluding what would jar with their effect) all represent to us some valuable or delightful attribute, in a completeness and perfection of which our experience presents us with no example, and which therefore stimulates the active power of the imagination to rise above known reality, into a more attractive or a more majestic world. This does not happen with what we call our lower pleasures. To them there is a fixed limit at which they stop: or if, in any particular case, they do acquire, by association, a power of stirring up ideas greater than themselves, and stimulate the imagination to enlarge its conceptions to the dimensions of those ideas, we then feel that the lower pleasure has, exceptionally, risen into the region of the æsthetic, and has superadded to itself an element of pleasure of a character and quality not belonging to its own nature.--Ed.]

{256} CHAPTER XXII.

MOTIVES.