sations, passions, emotions, play of reason, or states of mind whatsoever. In the second place, how is it known that animals do not possess this consciousness? This is chiefly known from the fact that certain results or effects in man may be distinctly observed and traced growing out of this consciousness or self-reference on his part, and these results not making their appearance in the animal creation, it is fairly to be inferred that the root out of which they spring is wanting in the animal creation too. The most important of these are conscience, morality, and responsibility, which may be shown to be based in consciousness, and necessary sequents thereof. It will be admitted that animals have no conscience or moral sense, therefore if it can be shown that this has its distinct origin in consciousness; that consciousness in its simplest act, contains the seeds of a nascent morality, which must come to maturity; it must also be concluded that animals have no consciousness either. Or if they have, deep and dreadful, indeed, is the condemnation they merit, having the foundation laid, and yet no superstructure erected thereupon; the seed sown, and yet the field altogether barren. Wherever we behold corn growing, we conclude that corn has been planted; and wherever we behold none, we are entitled to infer that the conditions upon which corn grows have been awanting—namely, that the sowing of it has never taken place. There are other reasons besides these; but as it will probably be universally admitted that animals do not possess the notion of self, and are incapable of any sort of self-reference, it seems unnecessary to argue this point at any greater length.
We have found, then, the fact of consciousness prominently visible in man, and nowhere apparent in any other being inhabiting the universe around him. Let us now pause upon this fact, and, availing ourselves of its assistance, let us sum up very shortly the results to which it has conducted us. The first question put was, whether man, being endowed with reason, is not, on that account, necessarily cognisant of his powers; whether in virtue of it he does not necessarily form the notion of self, and become capable of self-reference; and, in short, whether reason ought not to be regarded as the essential and characteristic property by which he may be best discriminated from the other occupants of the earth. A review of the universe around us then showed us that other creatures besides man were endowed with copious stores of reason, and that their works were as rational and as wonderful as his. So far, therefore, as mere reason on either side was concerned, they and he were found to stand exactly upon the same footing. The facts themselves forbade that he should appropriate it exclusively to himself. But here the argument was interrupted by the statement that the reason of animals is not their own. This was rebutted by the question: is man's reason, then, his own? Was the answer no? then freedom, morality, and responsibility were struck dead, and other consequences followed, too appalling to be thought of. Was the answer yes? then some reason for this answer was demanded, and must be given, for it contradicts the other statement with regard to the reason of animals, in which it was declared that this power was not their own. To find, then, a satisfactory reason of fact for this answer, we again looked forth over the life-fraught fields of creation. We there still beheld reason operating on a great and marvellous scale, and yet at the same time we found no consciousness thereof. This, then, plainly proved that the presence of reason, by no means necessarily implied a cognizance of reason in the creature manifesting it. It proved that man, like other beings, might easily have been endowed with reason, without at the same time becoming aware of his endowment, or blending with it the notion of himself. The first question, then, is completely answered. It does not follow that man must necessarily take cognizance of his operations, and refer his actions to himself because he is rational, for all the other creatures around are also rational, without taking any such cognizance, or making any such reference—neither can reason be pointed out as his peculiar or distinguishing characteristic, for it is manifested by all other beings as well as by him.
But when we turned from the universe to man, we found in him, besides reason, another fact, a phenomenon peculiarly his own,—namely, the fact of consciousness. This, and this alone, is the fact which marks
