AND

THEOLOGICAL REVIEW.

NO. II-JUNE, 1834.

ART. I. PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.

By Rev. LEONARD WOODS, D. D., Abbot Professor of Christian Theology, in the Theological Seminary, Andover, Mass.

NUMBER II.

Recapitulation as to mental faculties. Disposition, inclination, susceptibility, &c. 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 I think clearly and satisfactorily, 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, as he says in another place, 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 actions, and of course has power or ability to perform them; for how could it act in these different ways, without power to do so. But what we call a power or faculty of the mind is no more a distinct agent, than the faculty of speaking or VOL. I.

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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 convenient, and well enough suited to the purposes of common discourse, to keep up the usual expressions, and say, the will chooses, or puts forth a volition, reason compares and judges, &c. But after all, this is a loose. way of talking, and far from being philosophically correct. For, as I have already said, 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 we are involved in any obscurity or confusion, 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 judged by all to be 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, I am confident, with the practical judgement 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 honourable 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, and with some repetition, 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 practical truth, it has often been overlooked; and men have reasoned about actions, as though the common phrase

ology, which ascribes moral qualities and relations to them, were literally and philosophically true.

In what light then are outward, visible actions to be regarded? I answer; so far as our moral relations are concerned, they are to be regarded principally as indications of the character of the agent; or, if you prefer it, as giving character to the agent, that is, visible character. To God the character is known, before those actions take place which manifest it to us. The Searcher of hearts was perfectly acquainted with the internal character of Judas, or the qualities of his mind, before he did those things by which his character was developed. But his fellow men could not search his heart, and accordingly could not know his character, except as his actions made it visible. In like manner the children of Israel were put to various trials in the wilderness, that they might know what was in them; not that they might be made different from what they were, but that they might, by their conduct, discover their own real character, and make it manifest to others. According to common apprehension, the real, internal character of a man, his character as God sees it, essentially consists in what is usually called his disposition, inclination, or propensity. To say, a man has a benevolent disposition, or a disposition to do good, is the same as to say, he has a benevolent character; he is a benevolent man.

It has been common with those who have written on mental science, to use the word disposition or inclination, to express not only that current of affection of which we are directly conscious, but also that state of mind which precedes the exercise of affection, and which is developed by it,-and which becomes the subject of consciousness only in consequence of its being thus developed. The thing intended by the word disposition is, I think, familiar to every one, and is as clearly apprehended, as any thing which relates to the nature and attributes of the mind. If we attend to a few of the instances in which the word is commonly used, we shall find that, ordinarily, no one has any doubt as to its propriety, or any difficulty in understanding it; how abstruse and incomprehensible soever the subject may be, when treated metaphysically.

Take the case of Judas, at the grave of Lazarus. His mind, we suppose, was intensely occupied with a variety of thoughts and feelings, while he witnessed the events which