been produced, or by whatever word, or combination of words, the difference may be expressed. There is no magic, in the phrase, principle of repulsion, or power of repulsion, which can render the same, states or tendencies that are in themselves opposite;-for, as far as we understand the phrase, it expresses nothing more than the invariableness of the simple fact, that in certain circumstances of relative position, bodies have a tendency to fly off from each other, as in certain other circumstances of relative position, which constitute the phenomena of gravitation, they have a tendency to approach. Whatever term we may employ to denote it, it is still a physical fact, that at a certain point of near and seemingly close approach of another mass, a body which was before in a state of rest, acquires immediately a tendency to fly off in different directions, and with different velocities at different times, and consequently, that, if the tendency to begin or to continue motion, in one direction, and with one velocity, be a state different from that which constitutes the tendency to begin or to continue motion in another direction, and with another velocity, the ball B, in these different circumstances, however identical it may be in substance, exists in two different states;-or all states, however different, may be said to be the same. It may be admitted, then, that the feeling of rapture is a state of mind, completely different from that which constitutes the feeling of agony,—that the sensation of the fragrance of a rose, has no resemblance to our conception of a sphere or of an equilateral triangle, and that, in general, all those thoughts and emotions, which,—more truly than the mere union of the immortal spirit within us with the body which it animates,-may be said to constitute life, "Love, Hope, and Joy, fair Pleasure's smiling train,- these, as they prevail, in different hours, render the same individual mind more unlike to itself, if its states or tendencies alone, and not its substantial identity be considered, than the minds perhaps of any two human beings, at the same moment. But still, as we have seen, even from the analogy of the material world,-which was supposed to furnish a powerful objection, it is no argument against the absolute identity of the mind, that exists in different states, however opposite, any more, than it is an argument against the absolute identity of a body, that it, at one moment, has a tendency to one particular motion,—at another moment a tendency to a different motion,-and at another moment, no tendency whatever to motion of any kind; since, in all these cases, as much as in the varying affections of the mind, there is a change of state, with absolute identity of substance, 224 LECTURE XV. CONSIDERATION OF THE OBJECTIONS AGAINST MENTAL IDENTITY, CONTINUED ; OPINION OF MR LOCKE RESPECTING IDENTITY; SOURCE OF HIS PARADOX ON THIS SUBJECT; AND REFLECTIONS SUGGESTED BY IT. My last Lecture, Gentlemen, was employed in considering the general objection to the Identity of the Mind, drawn from the contrasts of its momentary feelings, an objection founded on the supposed incompatibility of diversity of any kind, with strict and absolute identity. After the very full examination which it received, it is unnecessary to dwell at any length on the other objection, drawn from changes of general character, in the same individual, at different periods of life, or in different circumstances of fortune; since precisely the same arguments, from the general analogy of nature, which disprove the supposed incompatibility in the one case, disprove it also in the other. Even matter itself, we have seen, may, without the slightest alteration of its identity, exist in an almost infinite variety of states; having, in some of these states, qualities precisely the reverse of those, which it exhibited in other states, attracting what it repelled, repelling what it attracted; and it surely is not more wonderful, therefore, that the same identical mind, also, should, in relation to the same objects, in different circumstances, be susceptible of an almost infinite variety of affections,-approving, disapproving, choosing, repenting. If we knew nothing more of the relations of two billiard balls to each other, than the phenomena which they exhibit, in the moment of their mutual percussion, when they have been forced, within a certain degree of close vicinity, by the impelling stroke, we should regard them, from their instant reciprocal repulsion, as having a natural tendency to fly off from each other: and, in the state in which they then exist, there is no question that such is their tendency,-a tendency, which, in these circumstances, may be regarded as their genuine physical character. Yet we have only to imagine the two balls placed at a distance from each other, like that of the remotest planet from the sun; and, in traversing the whole wide void that intervenes, what a different physical character would they exhibit, in their accelerating tendency toward each other, as if their very nature were lastingly changed? If there are, then, such opposite tendencies in the same bodies, without any loss of identity, why may not the same minds also have their opposite tendencies, when, in like manner, removed, as it were, into circumstances that are different, loving, perhaps, what they hated before, and hating what they loved? If the change of state be not temporary, but permanent, the resulting affections may well be supposed to be permanently different; and, indeed, if they be different at all, cannot but be permanently different, like the altered state. It is as little wonderful, therefore, when any lasting change of circumstances is taken into account, that the same individual should no longer exhibit the same intellectual and moral appearances, as that matter, in its different states, should no longer exhibit the same obvious phenomena, attracting, perhaps, the very bodies which it before repelled, and repelling the very bodies which it before attracted, and attracting and repelling with differences of force, and consequent differences of velocity in the bodies moved, the varieties of which it would require all the powers of our arithmetic to compute. When we observe, then, in a mind, which we have long known and valued, any marks of altered character,—when, for example, in one, who, by the favour, or rather by the cruelty of Fortune, has been raised, from a situation comparatively humble, to sudden distinctions of power and opulence, we see the neglect of all those virtues, the wider opportunity of exercising which seemed to him formerly the chief, or even the only, advantage that rendered such distinctions desirable, the same frivolous vanity, which before appeared to him ridiculous in others, and the same contemptuous insolence of pride, which before appeared to him contemptible,a craving and impatient desire of greater wealth, merely because he has no longer any use to make of it, unless, indeed that it has become more necessary to his avarice, than it ever was before to his want, and a gay and scornful indifference to miseries, that are still sometimes able to force themselves upon his view, the relief of which, that once seemed to him so glorious a privilege, would now not require of him even the scanty merit of sacrificing a single superfluity: When we perceive this contrast, and almost say within ourselves, Is this the same being? we should remember, that the influence of fortune is not confined to the mere trapping, which it gives or takes away, that it operates within as much as without, and that, accordingly, in the case now imagined by us, the new external circumstances have been gradually modifying the mind, in the same manner, as new external circumstances of a dif ferent kind modify the bodies, which happen to be placed in them, -not affecting their identity, but altering their state; and that, if we could distinguish, as accurately, the series of changes, which take place in mind, as we can distinguish those which take place in matter, we should not be more astonished, that, in circumstances of rare and unhappy occurrence, a disposition once apparently generous is generous no more, than we are to observe a body, attracted to another body, at one distance, and afterwards repelled from it, in consequence merely of a change of their mutual position, a change so very slight, as to be altogether undistinguishable by our senses. I have dwelt on this question at much greater length than I should otherwise have done, however interesting it truly is as a question of metaphysics, because I was anxious to obviate a prejudice which is very closely connected with this point, and which, most unfortunately for the progress of the Philosophy of Mind, has given a wrong bias to the speculations of many very enlightened men. No one, I am aware, can be so sincerely sceptical as to doubt, even for a moment, his own identity, as one continued sentient being, whatever ingenious sophistry he may urge in support of the paradox which he professes to hold. But still, while the compatibility of diversity with absolute identity, as now explained to you, was but obscurely felt,-a compatibility which, to the best of my remembrance, no writer, with whom I am acquainted, has attempted to illustrate,-the difficulty of reconciling the growth or decay of knowledge, and all the successive contrasts or changes of feeling, which our sensations, thoughts, emotions, exhibit, with the permanent indivisible unity of the same sentient principle, has |