BRIEF REMARKS ON THE HUMAN MIND.

ON the nature of the Human Mind, the manner in which it acts upon its material companion, the laws of their union, and their mutual dependence on each other, much useless dissertation might be spared, if mankind were not more anxious to build systems, than to discover truth.

Every person is conscious that he is capable of experiencing pleasure and pain, of reflecting upon surrounding objects, and of exercising the various faculties of perception, judgment, and memory; in fact, all the affections and powers constituting a rational and intelligent being. This simple consciousness of sentient existence, is all we need concern ourselves about; and whether the principles or laws producing this individual consciousness, be termed material or spiritual, whether they be earthly or ethereal, cannot alter the preceding fundamental truth; it is merely using a number of words to express, or more frequently to confuse, the simple reality of consciousness and existence.

No man could possibly be so foolish as seriously to dispute whether or no he himself had any kind of existence. The most complete sceptic must admit some kind of being; and whatever words may be used, the idea cannot be lost, or extinguished, that we live, and feel, and think: taking, then, this simple fact as the basis of our reasoning, we may safely proceed to consider the question whether we shall live, feel, and think in a future state of existence ?

All that human reason, unassisted by revelation, can attain to on this most interesting subject is, a faint and shadowy hope, that there may be some mode in which the intelligent principle in man shall survive the grosser elements of his nature. But life and immortality are only fully brought to light by the gospel.

There are, however, objections brought against the doctrines of the Christian religion, which, being founded on principles of human reason, sometimes render an appeal to the investigations of philosophy necessary to the full elucidation of gospel truth.

It has long been the aim of a certain class of philosophers, to discover some "vital principle" in man, which shall account for the phenomena of mind and rationality, without reference to an immaterial principle; but, as yet, we have no better account of this vital principle than what revelation affords, namely, that God created man of the dust of the earth, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and man became a living soul.” All that physiologists can do is, to accumulate a 2D. SERIES, NO. 18.-VOL. II.

mass of facts and observations, drawn from the operations and appearances of material nature; but the deepest and most successful researches only bring to light new combinations of cause and effect, without at all elucidating the great question as to what constitutes the hidden essence whence thought and intelligence emanate.

It is objected to the doctrine of a spiritual principle being connected with the human body, that all the faculties, affections, and powers, constituting rationality and consciousness, are so unvaryingly connected with certain modifications of matter, that we cannot conceive the existence of the former independently of the latter.

In answer to this, I would remark, that this intimate union of the thinking with the material principle, is what must result from, and is in perfect accordance with, the statement furnished by scripture, of the creation of man-made of material elements, and animated by the breath of the Deity. We also find that there are ascertained agents in nature, equally mysterious with the phenomena of the human mind.

The principle of gravitation, by which bodies are attracted towards the centre of the earth, is both mysterious and invisible; but its existence, though known only by the effects it produces, is too palpable to leave any room for doubt. The extraordinary property possessed by the loadstone, of pointing towards the north, is as much unconnected with the primary properties of metal, and as unaccountable on any principles of philosophy, as are the powers of the human mind. And it seems a no less wonderful phenomenon in nature, that a piece of iron should possess the power of always pointing to the north, than that the human body should contain an agent invested with invisible principles, of a different kind from those constituting the grosser elements of its nature, and capable of a separate existence. The analogy will appear still greater, if we reflect that the magnetic principle is not inherent in the iron, but communicated to it.

It is, however, a sufficient answer to the ingenious cavils of philosophers to say, that He who first called this wonderful being, man, into existence, and endowed him with the faculties and powers he possesses, can bestow upon the elements of his nature whatever portion of duration he pleases; the existence, therefore, of an immortal principle in man is neither an unnatural, nor an unreasonable supposition; how much soever the discovery of its essence may baffle the imperfect powers of human reason, unassisted by the light of revelation. S.W. 162.-VOL. XIV.

2 K

INDECISION.

"Dubius is such a scrupulous good man;
Yes-you may catch him tripping if you can.
He would not, with a peremptory tone,
Assert the nose upon his face his own;
With hesitation admirably slow,
He humbly hopes-presumes-it may be so."
Cowper.

AMONGST Sir Andrew Wilmot's acquaintances, for he could hardly be called a friend, was a gentleman named Waverly; a person whose character was as opposite to the baronet's as could be well imagined. But it is pretty generally known, that acquaintances, in small villages at a distance from the metropolis, are necessarily restricted in number and quality. On

no other principle could the intercourse between Sir Andrew and Mr. Waverly have been accounted for, since the former was overbearing and even rude, while the latter was timid and cautious to a ridiculous degree.

Mr. Waverly was the youngest son, but the only survivor, of an attorney who had realized considerable property by "the glorious uncertainty of the law:" a gentleman, it must be confessed, of some acuteness, but who had been so accustomed to plead on the wrong as well as the right side of the question, that it may be doubted which had the real preponderance in his estimation. The attorney had taken some care to instil into the minds of his children the importance of duly weighing arguments in the same manner, so that education had infused, as it were, the principle of doubting or scepticism, on almost every point. At the time of the lawyer's death, which took place in consequence of riding a considerable distance in the rain, and neglecting to change his clothes, the subject of this sketch was the only one who remained of this family.

Mr. Waverly, who had been trained up to the law, upon receiving the property his father had acquired, prudently gave up all thoughts of business, and determined to retire from the bustle of life. Being raised above want, he resolved to purchase a small estate, and to live secluded from the world. With this intention, he had married, and settled in the neighbourhood of Sir Andrew Wilmot, where, at the time of our sketch, he had resided nearly thirty years. Soon after his first arrival in the country, some proposals had been made respecting creating him a magistrate; but after six months' deliberation upon such a weighty question, he prudently refused the honour. From that time onward he had passed "the even tenor of his way," nothing very

remarkable occurring, if we may except a circumstance that was once the subject of village gossip.

Late one summer evening, as he was wandering in the neighbourhood according to custom, Mr. Waverly observed at a distance an attempt at burglary on a lone house, the family being from home. After revolving in his mind whether he should go in propria persona, or send for the constable to take the depredator into custody, he prudently resolved upon the latter. The thief was apprehended near the village with stolen property in his possession. As he was committed to the county gaol, Mr. Waverly was called upon as a witness. But, to the astonishment of every one, he then began to express some doubts whether, after all, the prisoner was the man he had seen enter the house, or was merely an accessary after the fact, and threw upon the whole such an air of quibbling and contradiction, that the life of the prisoner was saved.

Mr. Waverly was now between fifty and sixty, and had been known for years as part of the furniture of the village. His hesitating manner and shuffling gait had been the amusement of its inhabitants for a considerable period. In dry and fine weather he was noticed to carry a large umbrella, because he knew the variableness of our climate better than the generality of persons, and it was possible that it might rain. With the same strain of argument, he sometimes left his umbrella at home, since no one could tell whether it would not clear up. Always vacillating in his opinions and notions, his mind commonly retained the ideas communicated by the last persons with whom he chanced to converse, these only remaining till they were effaced by the next succeeding flux. A personage like this, it must be confessed, could find no better emblem for himself than the weather-cock, whose motions are capricious as the wind.

But to give a more complete sketch of his character, we will introduce him on a visit to Sir Andrew Wilmot. The baronet was in his favourite room, which he had fitted up as a museum of curiosities, read-' ing aloud Milton's Paradise Lost to his sister. Mr. Waverly was announced; in a few moments the gentle creaking of his footsteps forewarned his approach. Sir Andrew took off his spectacles, and, placing them in the book he had been reading, rose to welcome his visitor. In walked Mr. Waverly, buttoned up to his chin, though it was a warm day in June, his legs ornamented with a pair of black gaiters, that

by no means concealed his white stockings. "Good morning, Mr. Waverly." "Good morning," replied he, hesitating "that is to say, good morning;" and so saying, he seated himself in a chair opposite a window through which the sun shone with considerable warmth. "I hope your ladyship's quite well." "It seems an age,' said Lady Wilmot, "since I have had the pleasure of seeing you. How is my dear friend Mrs. Waverly?" "But poorly; that is to say, not very well. I am afraid she is getting old. None of us are so young as we were once," perceiving Sir Andrew smiling, "at least I think not.'

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Time's a hard master Mr. Waverly, and though we may endeavour to cheat in reckoning up his accounts, he little heeds us. But what is Mrs. Waverly's complaint !" "Can't say, sir; nobody knows. She doesn't know herself; the doctors don't know; and I am sure I don't, that is to say, I think not." "No! why that's strange. What do you suppose it is? Suppose!" said Mr. Waverly, and he looked sneeringly at Lady Wilmot. "Suppositions, sir," "are the mere echoes of the human mind, where thoughts create probabilities for themselves." "And then, Sir Andrew, to build on such a shadowy fabric would be something like castle building." "Why, man, I don't want, indeed I never expect you to he positive, but you may bring us somewhere near the truth." "Can't pretend to say; you know we are often mistaken." And as the poet says,

"Who shall decide when doctors disagree?"

"I had understood," said Lady Wilmot, "that Mrs. Waverly has never recovered from the attacks of rheumatism she experienced six months since." "Rheumatism! aye, if it was rheumatism. I wouldn't stake my existence on that point." "I think I have seen her riding out lately." "Perhaps so." "And is not her health benefited by it?" "Can't be positive," said Mr. Waverly, twisting the top button of his gaiter.

After a short pause, he resumed the conversation: "I called, Sir Andrew," said he,

to inform you of a painful predicament I am in-painful, I think it is. I am torn by conflicting opinions." "Can that be painful to you Mr. Waverly? I thought you loved nothing better." "Alas!" sighed he, in return, a man of moderation like myself, who always wishes to avoid hastiness of decision, is constantly harassed with the fear of falling at last a victim to an erroneous judgment." "Better fall a victim at once, than to be tortured all our life. Have you never thought so?"

"Can't be positive; at least, I think not. My eldest son Captain Waverly, of the dragoons, has already imprudently engaged my vote for the Tory candidate of this county; and I am vexed, Sir Andrew; I know not what to do." "Give it him at once." "What! when my house is threatened to be burnt to the ground, and I myself put in bodily fear-yes, in bodily fear," said he with earnestness, striking his stick violently on the ground.

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"Well then, give it to the Whig candidate." "Impossible, Sir Andrew; it will be the death-blow of my son's prospects in life, so at least he tells me." Fairly stuck, upon my word. Do you remember, Mr. Waverly, the fable of the ass that was starved between two panniers of hay?" asked Sir Andrew, laughing. "For shame," said Lady Wilmot. "Excuse my brother's rudeness. Don't you find that seat uncomfortable?" inquired she, as she observed the crimson glow upon his features. "Thank your ladyship, it is rather warm. The sun, or at least his rays strike very powerfully. And so, Sir Andrew, you think my doubts will starve me at last." "Odd enough; but what is your real opinion upon reform?"

"Reform!" sighed Mr. Waverly, "ay, it is a difficult question. Really I can't say; I am never in one mind about it." "Then you don't know what you think." "Can't be positive, Sir Andrew. If I take up the paper, and read the speeches of the anti-reformers, I really begin to suspect that it will subvert our ancient constitution, and ruin the nation. But let me just turn to the next column, and there I see the noble pillar of liberty raised, round which we are called to rally. The rottenness of certain boroughs, the defects of our present system, and the abuses that have crept in, which defraud and impoverish the poor, are so powerfully depicted, that I then feel inclined to turn reformer." "Noble resolution!" replied Sir Andrew. "Yet just as I begin to fall into a train of thought upon the superiority of this side of the question, in comes our Tory candidate, and it's all over again. To tell you the truth, Sir Andrew, he brings me round just where I was before, and I fancy reform is nothing else but fanaticism and ignorance." "So then you are an anti-reformer, after all." "Not so; at least, I think not. When I had begun to resolve, after due deliberation, to side with the Tories, in comes a letter by the morning post from that fellow, Swing; threatening to burn my house, to destroy my farms, and me with them, if I would not vote for reform."

undefiled religion; which bursting from its shelf in the sixteenth century, has, since that period, under the protecting power of both church and state, asserted its power, and gloriously maintained its resplendent character over the British dominions, to the present day.

Your correspondent, sir, in the exuberance of his zeal against national church establishments, has either grossly mistaken or wilfully misrepresented both my principles and my object, in writing my former essay cn this very important subject. Hence, he charges me with advocating the cause of "coercive sanctions," for the support of Christianity, and of pleading for the oppressive system of tithes, as the source of provision for its ministry; and, finally, he insinuates, that I am either influenced by, or in league with, the devil, indicated by "the cloven foot" of the cause I advocate! It is not necessary, sir, for me again to repeat my abhorrence of every thing like unjust coercion and oppression, for the support of a religious establishment, having been fully acquitted of all such principles by ARGUS himself, when he confesses," that I have fully conceded the whole question, as to the mischief of a church establishment, such alone as he has contemplated in this discussion."

But my real and fundamental principle, viz: "That a nation, and the state delegated by that nation, to constitute its temporal government, have an unquestionable right to assume a religion as national; and, consequently to select and provide for a ministry in support of that religion; and that that religion ought to be the Christian, -remains untouched, and impregnable.— This principle may be assailed, but it can never be overthrown. Against it, your correspondent can urge nothing but the dogmatical assertions," that no body of men can claim union with a gospel church, in virtue of their civil capacity;" and "it is clear beyond dispute, that, officially, the state can never become a part of the church." These assertions, whether true or false, have no kind of connexion with the

This selection, of course, presupposes the possession of the clerical or ministerial office by the objects thereof; the conferring of which upon suitable candidates, I presume, should rest with the preexisting ministers of each church, acting, as they ought ever to do in such cases, under the influence and guidance of the Holy Spirit, and with a single eye to the glory of God, and the welfare of his church. The form of ordination to the sacred office should, in all cases, be as close as possible to the simplicity and purity of the primitive churches; but no form can be essential to the assumption and exercise of the office, as none is explicitly specified or required in the New Testament, except the circumstance of laying on of the hands of the presbytery

argument, as far as I am concerned in it; because it is certain I never maintained the affirmative of either of those positions. I ever did, and ever shall, fully recognize the proper distinction between even a national church, and the state which sanctions, protects, and provides for it; and I deprecate, and abhor as much as any man can do, the unwarranted, impious, and corrupt interference of the secular power in the government of the church, as it at present exists, in both England and Ireland.

But, while I explicitly avow this distinction, I do and will strenuously contend for not only the right but the obligation which rests upon every secular government in the world, not only to embrace and profess the christian religion, but also to use both its influence and its power for the preservation and extension of that religion; and this avowal brings me into immediate contact with the final decision of your very dogmatical correspondent upon this most important subject. The lofty and dictatorial style assumed by this gentleman throughout his whole essay, and particularly in the following passage, indicates his firm persuasion, that whatever may be the fate of either church or state, the attribute of infallibility rests alone with himself! Nor does he appear at all inclined to permit even the great Head of the church, the Lord Jesus Christ himself, to press into its service any powers upon earth, but what is sanctioned by a special license under the paramount signature of ARGUS! "Once allow the civil magistrate a coercive authority in matters of religion, whether for the suppression of heresy or maintenance of truth, and you open the door to abuses of the most flagrant description, and to an influence which has far more generally been exercised on the side of evil than good. Religion being purely a matter of individual and moral responsibility, cannot be adopted by a nation, as a sovereign, a form of government, or a code of laws, may be. National Christianity of such a kind is a mere worldly contrivance, and has contributed more than any thing else to the corruption and dishonour of religion." p. 558.

The preceding mandate is a battery erected for the demolition of my humble postulate, viz. "That a nation ought to maintain the ministers of every ecclesiastical establishment which is sanctioned by the toleration of its government; but I do not say that an avowedly christian government is under any obligation, or is even at liberty, in the sight of God, to support, nay, nor perhaps even to tolerate, any antichristian ecclesiastical establishment, within