it is a necessary condition to the conception of an external world; for, were there no space, there could be no external world. If we had never witnessed a succession of events, we should never have obtained a conception of duration. Having, however, obtained the conception of duration, we perceive that it is a necessary condition of succession; for, were there no duration, there could be no succession. And again, had we never observed an instance of change, we should never have attained the conception of cause and effect, or of power. But the conception of power once gained, we become immediately sensible that, had there been no power, change would have been impossible. We thus learn that, logically considered, the suggestive idea takes the precedence, inasmuch as it is the necessary condition of the idea by which it is occasioned."

With these remarks of this most acute and very able metaphysician I fully coincide, so far as they apply to a large portion of our ideas of suggestion. I think, however, that there is a large class of our intuitive cognitions, of which the second of these laws cannot be affirmed. Take, for instance, our ideas of relation and degree, arising from the contemplation of two or more single objects. I do not see how it is true that the relation is a necessary condition to the existence of the bodies which occasion it, or that the idea of degree is a necessary condition to the existence of the qualities by which it is occasioned. I dissent with diffidence from an author so justly distinguished; nevertheless, in treating on this, as on any other subject, I am bound to state fully the truth as it presents itself to my individual consciousness.

In order the more fully to illustrate this subject, I have thought it desirable to present a number of instances in which these original suggestions or intuitions are occasioned by the ideas of perception and consciousness. I by no means attempt an exhaustive catalogue. It will be suffi

cient for my purposes, if I am able to present such a view of the subject as will direct more definite attention than has generally been given to this part of our intellectual constitution.

It has seemed to me that these intuitions might be classified as follows:

I. Those unaccompanied by emotion.

II. Those accompanied by emotion.

I. Those unaccompanied by emotion are,

1. Those occasioned by objects in a state of rest.

2. Those occasioned by objects in the condition of change. II. Those accompanied by emotion are,

1. Esthetic ideas.

2. Moral ideas.

REFERENCES.

Cousin, chaps. 2, 3, and 4.

SECTION III. IDEAS OCCASIONED BY OBJECTS IN A STATE OF REST.

WE may contemplate objects in a state of rest either as one or many. Let us, in the first place, examine a single object.

Suppose, for instance, a solid cube is placed before me. I look at it, and perceive its color and form; I handle it, and perceive that it is hard and smooth, and that its form is the same as I have discovered by sight; I strike it, and it gives forth a sound; I attempt to smell it and taste of it, and thus derive all the knowledge of its qualities which I am able to discover. I reflect on these various acts of perception, and thus obtain a knowledge of the state of my mind when performing these mental acts. I have then all the

knowledge which I can derive from perception and consciousness. Had I no other mental energies, my knowledge would here arrive at an impassable limit. If, however, we reflect upon our own cognitions, we shall be conscious of much important knowledge occasioned by these mental acts, which the acts themselves do not give us.

It is neither an act It is not matter; it is not

I look upon the cube; I perceive it to be extended; I remove it to another place. What is there where the cube was a moment since ? What is that which the cube occupies, and in which it is contained? It can be occupied by matter, or left vacant. I become conscious of the fact that it is a condition necessary to the existence of all matter. Abolish it, and I abolish the possibility of an external universe. I call it space. What is it? It has no qualities that can be cognized by the senses. nor an affection of the mind. spirit. It differs from both in every conceivable particular. The existence of matter is made known to us by the senses. Space is cognizable by none of them. It is neither seen, nor felt, nor heard, nor smelled, nor tasted. Matter is a contingent existence; it may or may not exist here, or it may not have existence anywhere. I can conceive of an era in duration when it never existed. I can conceive of another era when it will cease to exist. Not so of space; as soon as I form a notion of it, I perceive it to be necessary. I cannot conceive of its non-existence or annihilation. This cube and all other matter is limited, and is so from necessity; space is by necessity unlimited. Matter, being limited, of necessity has form; space has no form, for it has no limitation. The conception of a body, however vast, suggests an image; space suggests to us no image. We find ourselves, therefore, in possession of a conception, revealed to us neither by perception nor consciousness, which, nevertheless, is cognized by the mind, from the necessity of its

own nature. Without perception it would never have been cognized. Chronologically, it is, therefore, subsequent to it. As soon, however, as I obtain this conception, I know that it is a necessary condition to the existence of that which is perceived. It is necessary physiologically; for without space there can be no matter. It is necessary psychologically; for we cannot in our minds conceive of matter without conceiving of space as a necessary condition of our conception.

But let us reflect upon this idea somewhat more attentively. We all have a knowledge of what is meant by space; we cannot easily confound it with any other idea; yet no one can describe it. It has no qualities. It holds no relation to our senses, or to our consciousness. What are its limits? As I have before said, it has none. The house in which I am writing occupies space, and is contained in space. The earth and the whole planetary system move in space. The whole sidereal system either moves or reposes in space. We pass to the utmost verge of the material universe -space still stretches beyond, unmeasured, immeasurable. We have approached no nearer to its confines than at first; for, were such creations as now exist to be multiplied forever, space would be yet inexhaustible. What do we call this idea, which, by the constitution of our minds, emerges necessarily from this conception? It is the idea of the boundless, the incommensurable, the infinite. It is an idea which we cannot comprehend, and yet from which we cannot escape. We may, perhaps, remember how, in childhood, we wearied our feeble understandings in the attempt to grasp it. It is at present as far beyond the power of our comprehension as at first, yet we find the mind ever tending towards it. It is an idea neither of perception nor consciousness, nor can it be evolved from any union or combination of those ideas. It evolves itself at once, on our conception of space, from the

energies of the mind itself. Having been once formed, it holds its place independently in the mind, and depends not for its existence on any other idea.

Again; I cannot be conscious of my own existence without being conscious at the same time that I am an individual, separate not only from the rest of the material, but from the other individuals of the spiritual universe. I am, in myself, a complete form of existence, distinct from every other form that has existed, or that may exist. When I observe the cube, it suggests to me the same idea, that of unity. I retain this idea of oneness, apart from any object which at first suggested it. It cannot be called a quality. It is not an energy of the mind; yet it is an idea which immediately arises within us, on such occasions as I have suggested.

It may, however, be proper to remark, that this idea of unity is always relative. It always has respect to the relation in which we contemplate an object. An individual human being is one; yet it possesses one body and one spirit, and without both of these, in our present state, it would not be a human being. A human soul is one; but, in order to be a human soul, it must be possessed of various faculties, each one of which may be considered distinctly. A regiment is one, and yet it could not be a regiment, unless it were composed of several distinct companies united under a single commander. A company is one; but it is made up of single individuals, as privates, subalterns, captain, etc. We thus see that, in speaking of unity, the relation in which we contemplate the object is always to be taken into view; and that there is no absurdity or contradiction in saying, that it is one in one relation, and many in another relation.

Let us look once more upon our cube. We perceive in it form, solidity, divisibility, color, etc. These we call quali