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deductions from my personal observations, but in dealing with facts I cannot be mistaken. These have multiplied under my own eyes, have taken place in my own presence, have been, so to speak, in my very hands, when to my own family connections have been added those I had myself formed. The offices which have been intrusted to me, the employments which I have filled, almost in the heart of the government itself, have given me the opportunity of mixing with men of all classes, of examining into the machine of government closely in all its details, of becoming acquainted with its practical working, and of witnessing the sardonic smiles of the inquisitors, and listening to the hopeless complaints of the victims. From that time forward I had a horror of the government of priests. . . . If my father had sown in my heart the seeds of corruption, and busied himself in bringing them to maturity, he would indeed have opened to me a career full of honours, and might perhaps have made of me a cardinal of the holy Roman Church. My father preferred that I should be an honourable man, and by so doing predestined me to be a rebel; he secured to me the bitterness of finding myself a proscrit, and for this title I owe him the deepest acknowledgments." A statement thus heralded ought to obtain a respectful audience; and, having given our readers the author's own appeal to their confidence, we must leave them to gather for themselves that impression as to his credibility, which the perusal of the work itself can alone adequately convey. One extract may suffice to show the materials out of which the rulers of the ecclesiastical states are formed, and the motives by which their choice of the sacred office is at present actuated. The author takes the case of the lower orders, who might be supposed to benefit most from a system which opens the way of preferment to all classes through the same sacred portal. He takes the case of one “whose father is a wretched peasant, toiling from morning to night, and yet scarcely able to keep his family; who has to beg from his landed proprietor, to humble himself before the steward, to learn to conciliate the servants to get admitted into his master's presence; who, if he dare to enter the palace, is abashed at his own dress and his ignorance. ' But you shall be a priest,' says the wretched father to his son. 'I will be a priest,' thinks then the child ; and I shall have no more need to give myself up to exhausting toil; the church provides for the wants of her ministers. I will be a priest; and then the proprietor will have to pay me dues, and will have to respect me, for I shall be more than his equal, and any day I may become his immediate superior. While my father stops at the door, I shall enter the palace; and if he is admitted to a seat at the servants' table, I shall be a guest at that of the
master.' 'My father,' says another, is an artisan, the slave of his employer, who has less care for him than for his machines ; but for me, I shall be a priest; I shall become a curate, perhaps a bishop. Then will I take vengeance for my father, and will throw to prison his employer, who is an unbeliever, a blasphemer, and who never attends the sacraments.' "My father,' says a third, “is an inferior officer in the government; he has but nine crowns a month, and, vanquished by poverty, he is obliged to ask for a gratuity; my mother and sister have to go to implore Monsignor the Delegate. Ah! I will become a priest, and I may then become a “delegate ;” and, in my turn, the beautiful ladies of the city, who will not look at me and despise me for my poverty, will surround me, will pay court to me; when they want a favour, they will have to come and ask it in my private cabinet, and then I will make my conditions.' Such are the reasons-very religious ones, you will perceive—which actuate the larger number of young men who embrace the ecclesiastical career. Judge them not too severely. Their guilt springs from their human weakness; but the guilt of a government which offers to its subjects only this alternative--sacrilege with the satisfaction of every passion, or a life which implies the negation of all rights--this guilt, let M. de Rayneval say what he may of it in his despatches, is infamous.”
If such be the root of the administration of the priests, we may easily anticipate its fruits; and we can well understand the firm determination evinced by the emancipated population of the “ Æmilia" not to return under such a yoke. The consideration, too, of a few facts such as these may lead to a more positive opinion as to the inherent incompatibility in practice of the priestly office with the functions of a just civil ruler. That any abstract notion—for it is nothing else—of the independence of a pontiff propped up on such a system can much longer prevail against the demands of common sense, not to speak of the standing scandal to Christendom in its very centre, we will not believe. It may suit the cynical mood of the supposed author of Le Pape et le Congrès to allude with a sneer to the spectacle of a body of citizens deprived of all the rights of such, except what they may attain to by the channel of self-degradation ; but we cannot suppose that the statesmen of Europe will be willing, even if they are able, to content themselves with epigrammatic sayings in the face of undisputed facts. No true lover of the Church of Rome should, on the other hand, wish to see entailed upon another generation a state of things which has only lowered that church in the eyes of the civilised world; which has added nothing to the real power of the popes, but has detracted so much from their spiritual influence; which
rests upon donations of rights which were not in the minds of the donors; which has never been able to withstand the slightest external shock; which has never been respected by any government whose interest it was to infringe upon it; and which can be supported in the present day only by foreign bayonets, at the cost of the alienation of the feelings of millions of devout Catholics, and of the sympathies of every other body of Christians.
Art. X.-CEREBRAL PSYCHOLOGY: BAIN.
The Senses and the Intellect. By Alexander Bain, A.M. London,
1855. The Emotions and the Will. By Alexander Bain, A.M., Examiner in
Logic and Moral Philosophy in the University of London. London,
1859. It is rare to find an Englishman, not a graduate in Arts, who believes in the existence-or even the possibility,-of what are called the “Mental and Moral Sciences.” The average national intelligence looks on them as the showy shams of Academic discipline, and is as suspicious of their solidity as of Mr. Gladstone's. The Scotchman, on the other hand,-- by ordination of nature and University charter,-takes kindly to these studies; discusses their problems every where, at church, on the platform, even in the public-house; and, migrating South of the Tweed, reintroduces them, from time to time, into our literature and life. In their pure form, however, he would hardly succeed in gaining our ear for them. But, himself catching the infection of our scepticism, he adapts them to the level of our belief, surrenders their distinctive characteristics, assimilates them to physical knowledge, and reduces them from their autonomy to a mere province of the “Natural Sciences :" and then, for the first time, when he has construed all that is “mental” in the phenomena into physiology, and all that is “ moral” into the chemistry of ideas, we begin to suspect his doctrine of something better than metaphysic moonshine. Both the elder Mill and Mr. Bain owe their English laurels to the remarkable skill with which they have negotiated away the claims of the native Scottish philosophy, and saved or sacrificed their science by putting it under protection of a stronger power. In saying this, we refer, not so much to their doctrines as to their method; and especially to the preconception from which they set out, as to the nature of their study and its relative place in the scheme of human knowledge.
What is “Psychology"? Nobody would think of putting it among the Physical Sciences, or would hesitate to admit that it stands, in some sense, at the remotest point from them. Nor would the most enthusiastic disciple of Faraday or Liebig pretend that it dealt with phenomena reducible to Chemical Law; though perhaps he might claim a less distant relationship to them than that of the mere Natural Philosopher, and might even reserve, on behalf of his favourite pursuit, some contingent reversionary right of interest in them. To judge from the habitual language of medical literature, the Physiologist considers himself to be treading close upon the heels of the Mental Philosopher, and to be heir-presumptive, if not already rival claimant, to the whole domain. Between the facts of life, as manifested through the lower grades of organised existence, and the facts of mind, special to our race, he recognises no ultimate distinction, and confidently looks for evidence of essential identity. And whatever be the destination of Intellectual Philosophy, draws with it that of Ethics and Religion: for, once within the enclosure of the distinctive human faculties, it is impossible for the inquirer to insulate the Reason, whilst relegating Conscience and Faith to quite another field. In this view, therefore, the study of humanity constitutes only the uppermost stratum of scientific Natural History: it deals with certain residuary phenomena left on hand when the lower organisms have been exhausted: and its separation is no less provisional and artificial than that of any one branch of zoology from any other. It is thus the crown and summit of the hierarchy of Natural Sciences; emerging from physiology, as physiology from chemistry, and chemistry from physics; and differing only, as each superior term differs from the subjacent, in the greater complexity and more restricted range of the attributes it contemplates. Psychological studies, prosecuted with this preconception of their position, will naturally borrow, as far as possible, the resources of the nearest science, will seek explanation of human facts in the simpler animal analogies; and in proportion as these fail, will feel baffled, and anxious to reduce the variance to the lowest point. To bring the higher phenomena under the rule, or close to the confines of the lower; to exhibit them as woven in the same loom, only of finer web and more complicated pattern,-will be the instinctive aim of researches begun from this side. Nor will the aim be wholly unsuccessful in regard to the border phenomena, -of Sense, Propension, and Habit,—which retain us in affinity with other living kinds. If it incurs the risk of failure and harm, it will be at the upper end, among the extreme human characteristics : where, to say the least, it is strongly tempted to repeat upon psychology the same violence of which Comte com
plains as committed by the physicist on chemistry, and the chemist on physiology,-a coercive assimilation of ulterior to prior laws.
There is certainly a captivating simplicity in this pyramidal arrangement of all our possible knowledge around a single axis; with the base broadly laid in the universal properties of matter, and the apex rising to the solitary loftiness of Man and even crowned with his highest symbol,- the cross. It seems to promise that, by merely repeating our steps and not growing dizzy, we shall surmount all our ignorance, and find Thought and Love, as well as Force and Matter, beneath our feet. At the same time, it seems to warn us, that the special endowments of our own being are utterly inaccessible to our apprehension, till we have ascended through tier after tier of previous sciences. The promise and the warning, if reliable, are of superlative import
Is it true, then, that, simply and only by ascending the stair of natural knowledge,-by persistent prolongation of its familiar processes,—we reach the stage of Mental and Moral Science? Is that stage really to be found along the same line of method, only ranged around its furthest segment? We utterly disbelieve it: and venture to affirm that no refinement of growth in the other sciences has any tendency to blossom into knowledge of the Mind; and that such knowledge, instead of being doomed to wait till the alleged prior terms in the series have been built up, begins with them at the beginning, proceeds with them pari passu, and can no more be put before or after them than the image in the mirror before or after the object it reflects.
The ground of these assertions is simply this :- Mental Science is Self-knowledge: Natural Science, the knowledge of something other than Self
. Their spheres are of necessity mutually exclusive; yet so related that, like all true opposites, they come into existence together. Wakened up by some phenomenon from the sleep of unconsciousness, we discover two things at once, viz. ourselves as recipient and the phenomenon as given: we are in possession of an external fact and an internal feeling; and have already had our first lesson in both physical and mental knowledge. Every event, in like manner, has its outer and its inner face, and is apprehended by us as existing and as felt; contributing an element, in the one aspect, to our familiarity with nature, in the other, to our acquaintance with our own mind. The same relative fact which, in the external space, is called Light, when brought home to us, is called Vision: and whilst Optics take charge of it in the former case, it belongs to Psychology in the latter. Not a single predicate attaching to it is common to both sides of the relation; on the one, it is cause,