which it agrees with them. We have found in mind a fact which is peculiar to it; and this is, not that it changes, but that it takes cognizance of its changes. It now remains to be seen what effect this new fact will have upon your 'science of the human mind.' "
"First of all," says the metaphysical inquirer, "allow me to make one remark. I neglected to mention that mind is essentially rational. It is endowed with reason or intelligence. Now, does not this endowment necessarily imply that mind must be conscious of its various changes, and may not the matter in this way be relieved of every difficulty?"
"To expose fully," replies the other disputant, "the insufficiency of this view, would require a separate discussion, involving the real, and not the mere logical bearings of the question. This is what we are not at liberty to go into at present We are confining ourselves as much as possible to the mere language of metaphysical inquiry—I, therefore, content myself with answering, that if by reason is meant conscious or reflective reason, and if this is held to be identical with mind, of course, in that case, mind is necessarily conscious of its own changes. But such reason is not one phenomenon but two phenomena, which admit of very easy discrimination, and which are often to be found actually discriminated both in ourselves and in the universe around us. Reason, taken singly, and viewed by its own light, is a mere 'state of mind' in which there is nothing, any more than there is in the 'states of matter,' to countenance the presumption that it should take cognizance of its own operation; à priori, there is no more ground for supposing that 'reason,' 'feeling,' 'passion,' and 'states of mind' whatsoever, should be conscious of themselves, than that thunder and lightning, and all the changes of the atmosphere should. Mind, endow it with as much reason as you please, is still perfectly conceivable as existing in all its varying moods, without being, at the same time, at all conscious of them. Many creatures are rational without being conscious—therefore human consciousness can never be explained out of human reason."
"All I suppose, then, that can be said about the matter," replies the inquirer, "is, that human consciousness is a fact known from experience."
"Exactly so," rejoins the other; "and now we have reached the point of the question, and I wish you to observe particularly the effect which this fact has upon 'the human mind,' and the 'science of the human mind.' The results of our arguments shall be summed up and concluded in a few words."
"Matter is not 'I.' I know it only by its changes. It is an object to me. Objicitur mihi. This is intelligible enough, or is at least known from experience, and a science of it is perfectly practicable, because it is really an object to me. Suppose, then, that 'mind' also is not I, but that I have some mode of becoming acquainted with its phenomena or changes just as I have of becoming acquainted with those of matter. This, too, is perfectly conceivable. Here, also, I have an object. Aliquod objicitur mihi: and of this I can frame a science upon intelligible grounds. But I can attribute no consciousness to this object. The consciousness is in myself. But suppose I vest myself in this object. I thus identify myself with mind, and realize consciousness as a fact of mind, but in the meantime what becomes of mind as an object.[1] It has vanished in the process. An object can be conceived only as that which may possibly become an object to something else. Now what can mind become an object to? Not to me, for I am it, and not something else. Not to something else without being again denuded of consciousness; for this other being could only mark its changes as I did, and not endow it with consciousness without vesting in it its own personality, as I had done. Perhaps you imagine that the synthesis of 'I' and 'mind' may be resolved; and that thus the latter may again be made the object of your research. Do you maintain that the synthesis may be resolved in the first place really? Then you adopt our first supposition when we supposed that 'mind' was not 'I.' In this case 'mind' is left with all its changing phenomena, its emotions, passions, &c. and the consciousness of them remains vested in that which is
- ↑ Of course it is not merely meant that mind is not an object of sense. Far more than this; it is altogether inconceivable as an object of thought.
