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Growth of the Mind
When a man has become acquainted with any science, that state of the
affections which properly belongs to this science, (whatever direction his mind
may take afterwards,) still maintains a certain influence; and this influence is
the creative power by which his knowledge on the subject is reproduced. Such
impressions are to the mind, what logarithms are in numbers; preserving our
knowledge in its fulness indeed, but before it has expanded into an infinite
variety of thoughts. Brown remarks, "We will the existence of certain ideas, it
is said, and they arise in consequence of our volition; though assuredly to will
any idea is to know that we will, and therefore to be conscious of that very
idea, which we surely need not desire to know, when we already know it so well
as to will its actual existence." The author does not discriminate between
looking at an object and thence desiring it, and simply that condition of
feeling between which and certain thoughts there is an established relation, so
that the former cannot exist to any considerable degree without producing the
latter. Of this exertion of the will, every one must have been conscious in his
efforts of recollection. Of this exertion of the will, the priest must be
conscious, when, (if he be sincere,) by the simple prostration of his heart
before his Maker, his mind is crowded with the thoughts and language of prayer.
Of this exertion of the will, the poet must be conscious, when he makes bare his
bosom for the reception of nature, and presents her breathing with his own life
and soul. But it is needless to illustrate that of which every one must be
sensible.
It follows from these views of the subject, that the true way to store the
memory is to develop the affections. The mind must grow, not from external
accretion, but from an internal principle. Much may be done by others in aid of
its development; but in all that is done it should not be forgotten that, even
from its earliest infancy, it possesses a character and a principle of freedom,
which
should be respected, and
cannot be destroyed. Its peculiar propensities may be discerned, and
proper nutriment and culture supplied; but the infant plant, not less than the
aged tree, must be permitted, with its own organs of absorption, to separate
that which is peculiarly adapted to itself; otherwise it will be cast off as a
foreign substance, or produce nothing but rottenness and deformity.
The science of the mind itself will be the effect of its own development. This
is merely an attendant consciousness, which the mind possesses, of the growth of
its own powers; and therefore, it would seem, need not be made a distinct object
of study. Thus the power of reason may be imperceptibly developed by the study
of the demonstrative sciences. As it is developed, the pupil becomes conscious
of its existence and its use. This is enough. He can in fact learn nothing more
on the subject. If he learns to use his reason, what more is desired? Surely it
were useless, and worse than useless, to shut up the door of the senses, and
live in indolent and laborious contemplation of one's own powers; when, if
anything is learned truly, it must be what these powers are, and therefore that
they ought not to be thus employed. The best affections we possess will find
their home in the objects around us, and, as it were, enter into and animate the
whole rational, animal, and vegetable world. If the eye were turned inward to a
direct contemplation of these affections, it would find them bereft of all their
loveliness; for when they are active, it is not of them we are thinking, but of
the objects on which they rest. The science of the mind, then, will be the
effect of all the other sciences. Can the child grow up in active usefulness,
and not be conscious of the possession and use of his own limbs? The body and
the mind should grow together, and form the sound and perfect man, whose
understanding may be almost measured by his stature. The mind will see itself in
what it loves and is able to accomplish. Its own works will be its mirror; and
when it is present in the natural world, feeling the same spirit which gives
life to every object by which it is surrounded, in its very union with nature it
will catch a glimpse of itself, like that of pristine beauty united with
innocence, at her own native fountain.
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