of this will appear in the following quotations". "If any man will stand blindfolded in the middle of a room, and allow his most intimate friend to walk repeatedly round him without speaking, and afterwards to stand still and address him, he will not know, in several trials, the position of the speaker."

When we resolve the above information into sensible phenomena, it amounts to an intimation that hearing cannot inform us of a sight and a feel. The word position is a name of these, and the author intended so to employ it. Still position is not obviously a sight and a feel only; and hence is not known to be undiscoverable by hearing. If, however, we wish to teach a child the signification of position, we shall be unable except by the agency of either seeing or feeling. We may know from experience the position of a sound, but all that hearing discloses is the sound. If a man should deafen his ears with cotton, and be surrounded by persons who move their lips, he will not know, by looking at them, whether they articulate or feign. This would not constitute an interesting experiment; still it differs not from the former, except that articulation is known to name a sound, and therefore to be undiscoverable by seeing; while position is not obviously a sight and a feel only, and hence is not evidently undiscoverable by hearing.

The writer continues: "We might have had sensations of taste, without the application of sapid substances to the palate; for nothing is more common than to experience a taste, without an ability to ascribe it to an external cause."

New Edinburgh Encyclopedia, Tit. Metaphysics.

He intends to prove that tasting cannot inform us of an external universe. If the word external means any thing which is not a taste, the position is evident. It exemplifies, however, the sophistry to which we are liable, when we designate sensible information by other names than sights, sounds, tastes, feels, and smells. To announce that tasting cannot teach us a sight and a feel, would be insufferably simple; yet it is precisely what appears momentous, when we say that tasting cannot inform us of an external universe.

That external does not designate a taste, may be evinced by the inability of tastes to teach a child the signification of external. He will, however, easily comprebend its meaning, if you operate on the senses to whose phenomena the word refers. Delineate a circle, and write therein the figure 2, and place without the figure 3, he can immediately learn that the position of 2 is internal, and the position of 3 external: or place his hand in a tankard, and thereby teach him the feel internal, and the feel external. External is, therefore, a sight and a feel; hence tasting cannot discover it.

I think Professor Reid says, "if we enter a room and observe a collection of roses, we readily attribute the fragrance that we inhale to the roses; but," continues he, "if instead of roses we should perceive a range of closed jars, we should be unable to determine from which jar the odour issues."

He wishes to prove that smelling cannot inform us of an external universe; and that experience only enables us to know that odours proceed from external objects. His doctrine is correct, but it assumes an unnecessary mystery. Smelling cannot take cognizance of a sight or

a feel; and when external is thus resolved, all mystery vanishes.

By restricting the word external to the phenomena of feeling, philosophers prove not only that seeing, tasting, smelling, and hearing, cannot inform us of an external world; but that nothing which is intactible constitutes any part of external objects. Sweetness, say they, is no part of sugar; whiteness no part of snow; and fragrance no part of a lily. They persevere in a similar exclusion from all objects; and this constitutes the second branch of the paradox.

We must not suppose that Locke or Des Cartes, with whom these assertions originated, intended to propagate a deception. They perceived that the word sugar implies but one existence while it exhibits three existencies, a sight, a taste, and a feel. Instead, however, of attributing the disagreement between the unity of the word sugar, and the plurality of the phenomena, to a latent sophistry in language, they accused the senses of a delu

sion.

We will examine the positions separately. What is sugar? Usually the name of a sight, a feel, and a taste. If we restrict the word to the feel, we may safely pronounce that sweetness is no part of sugar. Touch it, I may say, and be convinced. Whatever is truly in the sugar, you can feel. There is hardness, figure, texture, and mobility; but nothing like sweetness.

When we know that philosophers restrict thus the signification of sugar to the phenomena of feeling, their conclusion becomes grossly evident. No man imagines he can feel sweetness; yet this is all that their position purports.

Let us consider, says Locke, the red and white in porphyry; "hinder light from approaching, and the colours of porphyry vanish. But," continues he, “can any person think that any alteration is thus made in porphyry; and that redness and whiteness are really in it, in the light, and not in the dark? It has indeed such particles as are apt, by the rays of light rebounding from some part of that hard stone, to produce in us the idea of whiteness; and from other parts the idea of redness: but neither redness nor whiteness is in it at any time."

What is porphyry? In the language of Locke, it is a hard stone. Here is an elucidation of the mystery: Locke restricts the name to the hard stone, to the feel: hence the presence and absence of light produce no alteration in the porphyry, and whiteness and redness are not in it: that is, they are no part of the feel. Even so insignificantly can speak a wise man, when he does not discriminate between the information of different senses.

To strike on a drum, and assert that the sound constitutes no part of the drum, will be adınitted by most persons; for the word drum, names usually only a sight and a feel: but if I inquire whether sound constitutes any part of thunder, the question embarrasses. With most men, thunder is the name of a sound, to subtract which makes the word insignificant. Some, however, vanquish this difficulty even. The word thunder they resolve into other words, then they can deny that the sound constitutes any part of thunder-that is, the sound forms no part of

their definition.

After philosophers determine that the phenomena of feeling alone constitute every external object, and that colour is no part thereof, they inquire where colour ex

ists? Before we reply, it is well to know whether the answer must be verbal. If you ask me the appearance of my hand, you will concede that a display of the hand is the best information. If you demand whether my hand is hard, the submission of it to your touch is the most conclusive solution. But when you ask where colour is, you deem it a poor reply to be shown the colour, and told that it is where you see. You touch the place, and say colour is not here. Nothing is here, but figure, extension, and

texture.

This dissatisfaction is highly significant; and as it elucidates the paradox that colour constitutes no part of an external object, we will slightly discuss it. The appearance of my hand is a sight: hence you deem the question that relates to its appearance well answered by seeing the hand. The hardness of my hand is a feel: hence to touch it is the best elucidation of its consistence; but when you ask where colour is, the word where is a sight and a feel; therefore to see the colour is an unsatisfactory answer. You allude to the feel where. the feel is not applicable to colour; and when I direct your hand to it, you justly exclaim that the colour is not there. I can feel, say you, solidity, extension, and texture, but nothing that resembles colour.

But

To dispel the ambiguity of the question which inquires after the location of colours, we must, therefore, understand that the word place, with all its concomitants, here, there, where, &c. is the name of two phenomena- -a sight and a feel. If we converse metaphysically of location without attending to this distinction, we shall involve ourselves in a comedy of errors; nor are the Dromio of Ephesus and the Dromio of Syracuse more diverse existences than the feel place and the sight place.