A.-Definition and Divisions of Mind.—p. 9. IN defining the department of Feeling, it will be observed that the negative method has been resorted to; it being implied that the positive definition is attended with difficulties. Were all feelings either pleasures or pains, the definition would be easy enough. But there are feelings indifferent as respects pleasure and pain,-for example, surprise, which may be pleasurable or painful, but which often is neither, and is yet clearly a feeling. When we have occasion to draw a decided contrast between feeling and intelligence, we may quote pleasure or pain as unmistakeable modes or examples of feeling, but we must not be understood as affirming that there are no neutral or indifferent states. In the first edition, I used the word 'Emotion' as a synonym of Feeling, on the ground that our so-called emotions-Wonder, Fear, Anger, Love-are generically identical with our Sensations; and that the fact implied by the word 'emotion,' namely, a certain stir of the bodily members, attaches to everything that could be called a feeling, whether sensation or emotion. I was anxious to do away with the supposed distinction between states of feeling accompanied with bodily manifestations, and states not accompanied with such manifestations, which distinction I believe to be erroneous. Nevertheless, I am disposed to defer to the criticism of Mr. Spencer upon this point, and to confine myself to the word 'Feeling, as the generic name, of which Sensation and Emotion are the two species. I have, accordingly, ceased to employ the word 'emotion,' as the comprehensive name for the first department of the mind. With respect, however, to the adjective emotional,' used in contrast to the intellectual,' or the 'volitional,' I have not observed the same restriction. No adjective could be formed from the word 'feeling,' and yet it is often convenient to possess one. Thus, the senses are divisible into two classes, emotional and intellectual, the first being those where feeling' is the chief characteristic, and the second, those that minister to thought, or intellect. I have also departed from the use of the word 'Consciousness,' employed in the first edition, as another synonym for Feeling. I employed that word for nearly the same reason as THREE-FOLD DIVISION OF MIND. 669 'emotion' was used; namely, because whenever we are conscious, I believe that there is a physical accompaniment, essentially of the same nature, as the accompaniments of any salient emotion, although perhaps in a lower degree; and, farther, because consciousness does not necessarily attend intellectual operations. But I now prefer to give to the word a greater extension than mind proper, and make use of it to include our object states as well as our subject states. The object and subject are both parts of our being, as I conceive, and hence we have a subject-consciousness, which is, in a special sense, mind (the scope of mental science), and an object-consciousness, in which all other sentient beings participate, and which gives us the extended and material universe. Such a mode of employing the term I consider as highly serviceable in dealing with the great problem of Metaphysics. The threefold division of Mind-into Feeling, Intellect, and Will-seems to have been first explicitly made in Germany, in the last century, by certain almost forgotten psychologists who flourished in the interval between Wolf and Kant. In so far as Kant troubled himself at all about psychology, or required psychological data, in executing his task of criticising the foundations of human knowledge, it was to the works of these, his immediate forerunners, that he had recourse. Thus, he followed their principle of the threefold division in laying out the parts of his whole critical undertaking; the Critique of Pure Reason corresponding to Intellect or the power of Cognition, the Critique of Practical Reason to Will or Action, and the Critique of the Faculty of Judgment to Feeling of pain and pleasure. But it was no part of his plan to work out the principle in a psychological exposition of mind. As little did it come within Kant's scheme to give a scientific definition of mind. Still, if he was no psychologist, he was not, therefore, prepared to accept the common metaphysical assumption of the mind as a distinct substance, in its nature absolutely simple and immaterial. According to his criticism, this is a 'paralogism of the pure reason': the real nature of mind-mind as noumenon-is altogether unknowable by us, and so too of matter the two noumena, if distinct, may be capable of entering into transcendental union so as to form the basis of our united external and internal experience, or there may be but one real or noumenal foundation underlying both internal and external phenomena for anything we know; all that lies open to us is the phenomenal opposition as experienced. This opposition Kant was generally content to speak of under the phrases internal and external. One class of phenomena we have by the internal sense,' whose 'form' is Time; another class by the external senses, whose form is Space (and Time, indirectly). This would make External phenomena all come under the Extended; but Kant did not care to grasp the rest as the Unextended. Since the time of Kant, amongst German philosophers Herbart is most worthy of note as regards the question of the definition and division of Mind. Recurring, after Kant's criticism, to a more positive doctrine, he gave a purely metaphysical definition of the mind or soul, as a simple unextended. entity. This is not very far removed from the soul-monad of Leibniz, with whom Herbart farther agreed to some extent in his explanation of the difficulty regarding the connexion with the body which must attend every metaphysical definition of mind. Leibniz bridged the gulf between mind and matter by supposing the body itself, like all matter, to be made up of myriads of monads, each with a subjective life of its own, only of lower intensity than belonged to the central soul-monad. Herbart, for his part, explaining all union of attributes in things by supposing things made up of a number of realia each endowed with one special quality of its own, placed the soul-entity at one point of the brain, and assumed its relation to be with the metaphysical 'reals' composing the brain-matter. The single quality that, in conformity with his general doctrine, he ascribed to the soulmonad was Vorstellen, or the faculty of mental presentation. This may be taken to correspond to Intellect or Cognition, and back to it he traced Feeling and Volition: Feeling being a subjective experience arising differently as the presentations aid or repress each other in coming into full consciousness; Volition, an impulse joined to the presentation of a thing as attainable. It was in this peculiar sense that Herbart accepted the threefold division he distinctly separated three elements, but sought to deny the primitive character of two of them. The failure of the attempt has often been remarked; for instance, he could not resolve Volition without dragging in such words as 'impulse' and attainable.' : MOVEMENTS IN LAUGHTER. 671 His metaphysical point of view did not prevent Herbart from cultivating empirical psychology, and he has the credit of originating the great psychological movement that marks the latest period of German philosophy. Within his school the threefold division of mind has not been farther impeached; and outside, it has been frankly accepted. But German writers have not been in the habit of making it so distinctly govern the course of the exposition as has been done in this work. Mr. Samuel Bailey adopts the threefold partition, which he words as follows:-I. SENSITIVE AFFECTIONS, comprising (1) Bodily Sensations, and (2) Mental Emotions. II. INTELLECTUAL OPERATIONS; enumerated as (1) Discerning, (2) Conceiving, (3) Believing, (4) Reasoning. III. WILLING; subdivided into Willing operations of the Body, and Willing operations of the Mind. B.-Physical accompaniments of Pleasure and Pain.-p. 295. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in an Essay on Tears and Laughter, has suggested that the convulsive movements of the Diaphragm, in Laughter, are of a nature to lessen the action of the brain. The effort made is, not to take in more air, but to take in less. By a series of convulsive muscular contractions, the contained air is as far as possible expelled; a short inspiration follows, and then another series of convulsive movements; and so on, till the laughter ends; we being then, as we often significantly say, 'out of breath.' The result of this must be a temporary falling off in the absorption of oxygen; a corresponding diminution of vital activity; and, by implication, a decrease of that high cerebral excitement of which laughter is a consequence. In crying, too, which, as shown, is accompanied by excess of cerebral circulation, the action of the lungs is in essence the same. The long and forcible expirations, and the short inspirations which characterize it, must similarly cause deficient oxygenation and its results.(Essays, first series, p. 400.) In a later work, Mr. Spencer has put forth an interesting speculation on the Physiology of laughter, founded on an analysis of the physical accompaniments of feeling, in many respects identical with the view that suggested itself to me, as best in accordance with the facts. He says: Strong feeling, mental or physical, being, then, the general cause of laughter, we have to note that the muscular actions constituting it are distinguished from most others by this, that they are purposeless. In general, bodily motions that are prompted by feelings are directed to special ends, as when we try to escape a danger, or struggle to secure a gratification. But the movements of chest and limbs which we make when laughing, have no object. And now remark that these quasi-convulsive contractions of the muscles, having no object, but being results of an uncontrolled discharge of energy, we may see whence arises their special characters-how it happens that certain classes of muscles are affected first, and then certain other classes. For an overflow of nerve force, undirected by any motive, will manifestly take first the most habitual routes; and if these do not suffice, will next overflow into the less habitual ones. Well, it is through the organs of speech that feeling passes into movement with the greatest frequency. The jaws, tongue, and lips are used only to express strong irritation or gratification; but that very moderate flow of mental energy which accompanies ordinary conversation, finds its chief vent through this channel. Hence it happens that certain muscles round the mouth, small, and easy to move, are the first to contract under pleasurable emotion. The class of muscles, which, next after those of articulation, are most constantly in action (or extra action we should say) by feelings of all kinds, are those of respiration. Under pleasurable or painful sensations, we breathe more rapidly, possibly as a consequence of the increased demand for oxygenated blood. The sensations that accompany exertion also bring on hard breathing; which here more evidently responds to the physiological needs. And emotions, too, agreeable and disagreeable, both, at first, excite respiration; though the last subsequently depress it. That is to say, of the bodily muscles, the respiratory are more constantly implicated than any other in those various acts which our feelings impel us to; and hence, when there occurs an undirected discharge of nervous energy into the muscular system, it happens that, if the quantity be considerable, it convulses not only certain of the articulatory and vocal muscles, but also those which expel air from the lungs. Should the feeling to be expended be still greater in amount— too great to find vent in these classes of muscles- another class |