DISEASED PERSISTENCY OF IMPRESSIONS. 339 life we are liable at times to become engrossed with an idea presented in circumstances of great excitement, which we are unable to dismiss, however much we may desire it. The healthy endurance of an impression is always compatible with dropping it from the immediate view when other things solicit our notice. We acquire ideas to rise up when they are wanted, not to haunt us unbidden. It is one of the peculiarities of the nervous system, and of all the other tissues, to suffer themselves to run into a wasting excitement, which leaves the organs weaker, and requires to be made up for by more than ordinary repose. The flow of nervous action during the excitement of the ear by music or the voice in speech, when pushed to a certain point, runs into the state of diseased overflow, and the mind is not calmed down until some considerable interval has elapsed. A constitution liable to run into this condition is nervous,' in the sense implying weakness, and not vigour of nerves. A vigorous system is one that can endure a great amount of excitement, still retaining the power of becoming calm and clearing the mind at pleasure. This kind of power shows itself in easy self-command. Herein lies the objection to the use of severe punishments and terror in education; for although in this way a preternatural attention is forced to some one thing, the mind is rendered much less retentive of things on the whole, not to speak of the positive suffering inflicted for the sake of the object. 15. The general doctrine now contended for as to the seat of revived impressions is not a barren speculation; if true, it bears important practical inferences. In expressing and describing thought and the thinking processes, an operation of great subtlety essential to our subject, the doctrine is of great service; it helps us in some measure to localize these processes, and the language that might otherwise be deemed figurative becomes literal. The imagination of visible objects is a process of seeing; the musician's imagination is hearing; the phantasies of the cook and the gourmand tickle the palate; the fear of a whipping actually makes the skin to tingle. The identity between actual and revived feelings shortens our labour by enabling us to transfer much of our knowledge of the one to the other. The properties that we find to hold of sensation in the actual, we may after a certain allowance ascribe to the ideal. Thus the qualities of the sense of sight in any one person, as, for example, its discriminating power, would belong likewise to his visual ideas. The senses are in this way a key to the mind. Sensation is intellect already in act; it is the mere outward manifestation of the ideal processes. When the ear or the eye discriminates, it has already brought intelligence to the test. This doctrine has, therefore, important bearings upon the long-disputed question as to the origin of our ideas in sense. So far as it goes it appears unfavourable to the doctrine of innate ideas. I do not mean, however, at the present stage, to enter into this great controversy, although we have been endeavouring, both here and in the previous Book, to pave the way for discussing it afterwards. 16. I return now to the association of Feelings of Movement. It generally happens that if we can perform a movement actually, we can also perform it mentally. Thus we can go through in the mind the different steps of a dance; in other words, the feelings of the successive evolutions have been associated as well as the movements themselves. It must not be supposed, however, that the adhesion of actual movements and that of mental movements run exactly parallel, and that if the one is perfect so is the other. We may sometimes see a mechanic able to go through the actual steps of a process, but unable to go through them in his mind; the proof being that in describing them to another party he often forgets a step, and only remembers it by doing the thing. In this case the actions are more adhesive than the traces of them. I cannot at present produce any instance to show, on the other hand, that a series of actions can be repeated mentally and yet not bodily; for as the mental actions are performed in the same circles, it usually needs only a volition, often the removal of a restraint merely, to bring them to the full length of actuating the muscles. But as there is a class of persons whose activity ASSOCIATION OF FEELINGS OF MOVEMENT. 341 is chiefly mental, while others come to the actual in most of their trains, I can easily suppose instances to arise in the firstnamed class where the mental succession is perfect, while the bodily succession would fail if it came to a trial. 17. The principal field of examples of the association of pure feelings of muscular action is the voice. Most other cases are so complexed with Sensation that they do not answer our present purpose. But in speech we have a series of actions fixed in trains by association, and which we can perform either actually or mentally at pleasure, the mental action being nothing else than a sort of whisper, or approach to a whisper, instead of the full-spoken utterance. The child can repeat its catechism in a suppressed voice, as well as aloud. We can even acquire language mentally or without speaking it out at all; that is to say, we can bring about a mental adhesion by itself, or with the bodily action wanting. In language this happens continually; for in reading a book to oneself we do not speak the words vocally, whence the articulate adherence takes place within the mental circles purely. So children, learning their lessons in school, as they do not get them aloud, must acquire the verbal successions in the same way. In going over the spelling book, they have to articulate the letters of each word a number of times, and then the whole word; after a sufficient repetition the train of articulations coheres, and the one brings on the next without fail, whether spoken inwardly or aloud. As a general rule, it is best to rehearse verbal exercises aloud, if they are to be performed aloud: just as in the case of other mechanical operations. Experience, I think, shows that the trains are sooner fixed in this way than in the other. By coming to the actual execution we set on a current that is both more energetic and larger in its sweep, inasmuch as it takes in the full operation of the muscles. In the early school acquirements, where everything has to be spoken out to the master, the audible repetition is the best; in after days, when we go over a great deal of language merely as thought or the silent links of action, the outspeaking is not called for; it would be an unnecessary waste of time and muscular exertion.* 18. The circumstances that favour the cohesion of mental trains of movement are nearly the same as those already detailed for actual movements. A certain repetition is requisite; more or less according as the other circumstances are favourable, namely, the natural adhesiveness of the system, the concentration of nervous energy, and the spontaneous activity. In mere mental acquirement, the condition of bodily strength is of course not an essential; but the natural and healthy activity of the organs which arises from central vigour cannot be dispensed with. There is such a thing as a common character of the active organs in the same individual; an activity of temperament that shows itself in every kind of exertion, in limbs, voice, eyes, and every part moved by muscle, or a sluggish feebleness extending alike over every kind of exercise. But this does not exclude specific differences of endowment in separate members, making the movements of one more adhesive and acquisitive than those of others. Thus we may have a special development of the cohesiveness of the articulating members, the voice, tongue, and mouth, through some special quality in the centres that actuate these organs. But, to the best of my judgment, if we confine ourselves closely to the active members, there is more usually a common character of adhesiveness than any marked inequality; and I am disposed to trace the actual differences to other circumstances, and chiefly to differences in the particular senses concerned in the case. I know no reason why a good hand and a dexterous foot should not generally go together; and he that can readily acquire a flow of words may also acquire a flow of fencing motions or dancing postures. What is special to the important case of speech will come out as we proceed. In the processes of meditation and thought we are constantly forming new combinations, and these we can permanently retain if we have dwelt upon them sufficiently long. A speaker meditating an address trusts to the adhesiveness of his verbal trains although they have been all the while in the state of mere ideas, he not having spoken them aloud. SENSATIONS OF THE SAME SENSE 19. The next class of associable elements to be considered is the Sensations; and I shall confine myself in the first instance to the adhesion of impressions of the same sense,touches with touches, sounds with sounds, &c. There are various interesting operations that fall under this head; it embraces the early education of the several senses. In the inferior senses, there is not much scope for exemplifying the process; the Organic Feelings do not form any striking associations among one another. We might note such cases as the expectation of a series of painful feelings from the occurrence of some one, as in an attack of illness; but there is no need for dwelling on instances of this description. Even in Tastes, it is not common to have any important associations of one with another. One might easily suppose the formation of a train of tastes, such that any one would suggest the others, but I hardly know any set of circumstances where it occurs in a prominent way. So with Smell; if it so happen that we frequently experience a succession of smells of one fixed order, an adhesion will be formed between the different impressions, and in consequence, when one is presented all the rest will be ready to arise in order without the actual experience. In passing frequently through a garden along the same track we might come to acquire a succession of odours, and from any one anticipate the next before we actually reach it. But as regards both Taste and Smell, we rarely exist in a train of recollections of either one or other. They are very difficult to realize perfectly, and what we recover chiefly about them is the expression and the sentiment of liking or aversion that they produced. By a great effort of mind we may approach very near the recovery of a smell that we have been extremely familiar with, as for example the odour of coffee; and if we were more dependent on ideas of smell we might perhaps succeed much better; nevertheless, it must be |