should be rid of a great part of the obscurity, misapprehension, and controversy, usually occasioned by an ambiguous, vague manner of thinking and writing. The fact that words are often used loosely and variously in common discourse, and in books written for practical purposes, is no reason why we should not aim at something more definite and exact, especially in metaphysical discourse. Why should those who pretend to treat theoretically of the nature of the mind, be content with less clearness, definiteness and uniformity in language, than are found in the physical sciences? Those who write on these sciences have to contend, as really as we, with an indefinite loose way of thinking and speaking among the common people. But this does not hinder them either from carefully classifying the facts which occur in the natural world, or from applying words in a well defined and uniform manner to the different classes which are thus formed. When a new set of facts is discovered, of a different nature or different relations from those before known; they agree upon some particular term by which it shall be expressed. Nor is it ever made a matter of complaint, if they take a word from common discourse, and employ it in a new and peculiar sense, provided they do it judiciously and aptly. And after they have given proper notice of the sense which they affix to particular words; that sense is always put upon those words by others. This is notoriously the case in the different branches of Natural Philosophy. Why should it not be so in mental science? There is surely no science in which it is more important to avoid all looseness and indeterminateness in our language, and to speak with the greatest clearness and definiteness, and the greatest uniformity in the sense of our words.

It is also evidently necessary, that we should carry the classification of the intellectual operations and powers further than has commonly been done, and more definitely mark the different classes by appropriate words. The mind perceives things in the natural world, and is conscious of its own actions; and it has ideas of the relations of things, such as cause and effect, and of general abstract truths, such as the principles of mathematical,

metaphysical, and moral science. Now it seems desirable that we should have a single word for the former class of these mental acts, and another for the latter; and that we should have distinct words for the different mental faculties developed in these different classes of mental acts. The word understanding might be used to denote the faculty to which the former class are referable, and reason, the faculty to which the latter are referable. It would manifestly do something towards clearing mental science of doubts and difficulties, if the operations of the mind to be classed under the word understanding, and those to be classed under reason, should be exactly defined and settled; so that we could distinguish between what is meant by acts of understanding and acts of reason, as really as we now do between what is meant by seeing and what by hearing.

It is unnecessary to extend these remarks to the other operations of the mind. My object is to expose the unsoundness of the opinion sometimes advanced, that there are and must be just so many faculties of the mind, and no more; and to show that if we would cultivate in ourselves and others a just and accurate habit of thinking and speaking, we must carefully notice the smaller as well as larger differences among the operations of the mind, and make new and more particular classifications, and employ new and appropriate terms to express them, as occasion requires; and that we must proceed in this way, till all the important relations among our mental acts, whether more obvious, or more minute and recondite, are distinctly and clearly marked. All this, which is desirable and necessary in regard to the operations of the mind generally, is specially so in regard to those which are of a moral nature, and stand in direct relation to divine objects. Here the want of a just and careful discrimination will expose us to dangerous mistakes. It is with an ultimate reference to the exercises or acts, which belong to us as moral and accountable beings, and to the general interests involved in them, that I have entered on the consideration of the present subject.

NUMBER II.

RECAPITULATION. ́

DISPOSITION, INCLINATION, SUSCEPTIBILITY

CONSIDERED.

THE remarks made in the previous essay on the manner in which mental operations are classified, and then referred to the mind as possessed of faculties adapted to the different classes of those operations, show clearly the truth of what I suggested at the beginning of the discussion, that what we call the faculties of the mind are not to be considered as distinct parts into which the mind is divided, and which, by being united together, constitute the mind, as different parts or ingredients make up a complex material substance. Locke well observes, that the ordinary way of speaking of the faculties of the mind is apt to breed confusion in men's thoughts, by leading them to suppose that the words denoting those faculties "stand for some real beings in the soul;" or, for "so many distinct agents in us, which have their several provinces and authorities, and command, obey, and perform several actions, as so many distinct beings; which has been no small occasion of wrangling, obscurity and uncertainty." The mind is a simple, indivisible, spiritual being. And when we speak of it as having different faculties, we do nothing more than to say, that the mind itself, a simple, immaterial being, performs so many different kinds of action, and of course has power to perform them. But what we call a power or faculty of the mind is no more a distinct agent, than the faculty of speaking or walking is a distinct agent. The faculty is not the agent, but belongs to the agent. It is the intelligent being, man, and he only, that acts, and acts in such a variety of ways. He thinks, desires, loves, hates, wills, and does all things else which are ascribed to his different faculties. I repeat it, that, strictly speaking, it is not the power or faculty that acts, but the person who is possessed of the power. We do indeed find it conven

ient, to keep up the usual expressions, and say, the will chooses, or puts forth a volition, reason compares and judges, etc. But after all, this is a loose way of talking, and far from being philosophically correct. For in strict propriety, it is the intelligent being, the person, that compares, judges, chooses, and performs all other mental acts; and from the fact of his acting in these different ways, we learn that he is capable of it, or has the faculty of doing it. We should keep this in remembrance. And when any obscurity or confusion arises from the more common modes of speech, we shall do well to dismiss them for a time, and adopt language which is strictly and philosophically correct. In this way we may in many instances effectually disentangle a subject under consideration, and obtain views of it which are clear and satisfactory.

These observations are as true, in regard to moral qualities, as in regard to actions. These qualities belong to the moral being, man. But in common discourse, we often ascribe moral qualities to particular faculties, and especially to the affections and acts. We say, the affections of the heart, the determinations of the will, and the voluntary actions, are good or bad, praise-worthy or blame-worthy. And it is sometimes represented, that all moral qualities are to be predicated directly of actions, and of actions only. But such representations cannot be literally true; nor can any thinking man seriously believe them to be so. Take an action which is morally wrong, and worthy of blame and punishment. Do we really blame and punish the action? When a man commits the act of stealing; do the civil magistrates condemn and imprison the act? When a man commits the act of murder, is it the murderous act that is put to death? The act itself began and ended perhaps in a moment. And even during that moment, it had no existence separate from the agent. Had we stood by, and witnessed the act of theft or murder, the real object of our disapprobation and abhorrence would have been, the wicked agent himself, the thief, the murderer. The agent has a permanent existence. And though many years may have passed away since the criminal action was perpetrated,

the action itself having now no existence except in memory, and no action like it having been committed since, still we hold the agent responsible for it, and consider him to be as really worthy of punishment, as he was at the very time when he was engaged in perpetrating the criminal deed. We do indeed speak familiarly of the wickedness and ill-desert of the act; but, in strict propriety, wickedness and ill-desert can be predicated only of the agent. If we say, the act is wicked and ill-deserving; our real meaning is, that he who commits it is so; as our conduct clearly shows. All human actions and qualities are, then, attributable to man, the agent, and to him only. This view of the subject agrees with the practical judgment of all

men.

When you read the life of Howard, and attend to the high commendations which the biographer bestows upon his actions, calling them benevolent, philanthropic, humane, “kind, self-denying, disinterested, and generous; you understand him as commending Howard himself, and as applying all these honorable epithets to him, as the doer of these actions. In grammatical construction the epithets do indeed belong to his actions. But what of that? Your thoughts always fix upon Howard himself, as philanthropic, humane, self-denying, and disinterested. These attributes truly belong to a person, and to nothing else. And nothing else can be the real object of our esteem, gratitude, or love. When such qualities are predicated of actions, it is only in a secondary, relative sense, as the actions indicate the disposition or character of the person who performs them. To be benevolent, is to wish well to others. Does an action wish well to others? Has an action desire or volition? Can an action enjoy a reward?

I have dwelt so long upon this point, because I have been desirous of making it as clear and certain as possible; and because, though it seems perfectly obvious, and though conscience and common sense always hold it as a plain truth, it has often been overlooked; and men have reasoned about actions, as though the common phraseology, which ascribes moral qualities and relations to them, were literally and philosophically true.