expanse, and collect from it a space occupied by solid objects. In both cases the act of interpretation is become so habitual that we can hardly stop short at the mere impression of sense.

4. But yet there are various ways in which we may satisfy ourselves that these two parts of the process of seeing objects are distinct. To separate these operations is precisely the task which the artist has to execute in making a drawing of what he sees. He has to recover the consciousness of his real and genuine sensations, and to discern the lines of objects as they appear. This at first he finds difficult; for he is tempted to draw what he knows of the forms of visible objects, and not what he sees: but as he improves in his art, he learns to put on paper what he sees only, separated from what he infers, in order that thus the inference, and with it a conception like that of the reality, may be left to the spectator. And thus the natural process of vision is the habit of seeing that which cannot be seen; and the difficulty of the art of drawing consists in learning not to see more than is visible.

5. But again; even in the simplest drawing we exhibit something which we do not see. However slight is our representation of objects, it contains something which we create for ourselves. For we draw an outline. Now an outline has no existence in nature. There are no visible lines presented to the eye by a group of figures. We separate each figure from the rest, and the boundary by which we do this is the outline of the figure; and the like may be said of each member of every figure. A painter of our own times has made this remark in a work upon his art1: 'The effect which natural objects produce upon our sense of vision is that of a number of parts, or distinct masses of form and colour, and not of lines. But when we endeavour to represent by painting the objects which are before us, or which invention supplies to our minds,

1 Phillips On Painting,

the first and the simplest means we resort to is this picture, by which we separate the form of each object from those that surround it, marking its boundary, the extreme extent of its dimensions in every direction, as impressed on our vision: and this is termed drawing its outline.'

comes.

6. Again, there are other ways in which we see clear manifestations of the act of thought by which we assign to the parts of objects their relations in space, the impressions of sense being merely subservient to this act. If we look at a medal through a glass which inverts it, we see the figures upon it become concave depressions instead of projecting convexities; for the light which illuminates the nearer side of the convexity will be transferred to the opposite side by the apparent inversion of the medal, and will thus imply a hollow in which the side nearest the light gathers the shade. Here our decision as to which part is nearest to us, has reference to the side from which the light In other cases the decision is more spontaneous. If we draw black outlines, such as represent the edges of a cube seen in perspective, certain of the lines will cross each other; and we may make this cube appear to assume two different positions, by determining in our own mind that the lines which belong to one end of the cube shall be understood to be before or to be behind those which they cross. Here an act of the will, operating upon the same sensible image, gives us two cubes, occupying two entirely different positions. Again, many persons may have observed that when a windmill in motion at a distance from us, (so that the outline of the sails only is seen,) stands obliquely to the eye, we may, by an effort of thought, make the obliquity assume one or the other of two positions; and as we do this, the sails, which in one instance appear to turn from right to left, in the other case turn from left to right. A person a little familiar with this mental effort, can invert the motion as often as he pleases, so long as the conditions of form and light do not offer a manifest contradiction to either position.

Thus we have these abundant and various manifestations of the activity of the mind, in the process by which we collect from vision the relations of solid space of three dimensions. But we must further make some remarks on the process by which we perceive mere visible figure; and also, on the mode in which we perceive the relations of space by the touch; and first, of the latter subject.

7. The opinion above illustrated, that our sight does not give us a direct knowledge of the relations of solid space, and that this knowledge is acquired only by an inference of the mind, was first clearly taught by the celebrated Bishop Berkeley, and is a doctrine now generally assented to by metaphysical speculators.

But does the sense of touch give us directly a knowledge of space? This is a question which has attracted considerable notice in recent times; and new light has been thrown upon it in a degree which is very remarkable, when we consider that the philosophy of perception has been a prominent subject of inquiry from the earliest times. Two philosophers, advancing to this inquiry from different sides, the one a metaphysician, the other a physiologist, have independently arrived at the conviction that the long current opinion, according to which we acquire a knowledge of space by the sense of touch, is erroneous. And the doctrine which they teach instead of the ancient errour, has a very important bearing upon the principle which we are endeavouring to establish,-that our knowledge of space and its properties is derived rather from the active operations than from the passive impressions of the percipient mind.

Undoubtedly the persuasion that we acquire a knowledge of form by the touch is very obviously suggested by our common habits. If we wish to know the form of any body in the dark, or to correct the impressions conveyed by sight, when we suspect them to be false, we have only, it seems to us, at least at first, to stretch forth the hand and touch the object; and we learn its

2 Theory of Vision.

shape with no chance of errour. In these cases, form appears to be as immediate a perception of the sense of touch, as colour is of the sense of sight.

8. But is this perception really the result of the passive sense of touch merely? Against such an opinion Dr. Brown, the metaphysician of whom I speak, urges3 that the feeling of touch alone, when any object is applied to the hand, or any other part of the body, can no more convey the conception of form or extension, than the sensation of an odour or a taste can do, except we have already some knowledge of the relative position of the parts of our bodies; that is, except we are already in possession of an idea of space, and have, in our minds, referred our limbs to their positions; which is to suppose the conception of form already acquired.

9. By what faculty then do we originally acquire our conceptions of the relations of position? Brown answers by the muscular sense; that is, by the conscious exertions of the various muscles by which we move our limbs. When we feel out the form and position of bodies by the hand, our knowledge is acquired, not by the mere touch of the body, but by perceiving the course the fingers must take in order to follow the surface of the body, or to pass from one body to another. We are conscious of the slightest of the volitions by which we thus feel out form and place; we know whether we move the finger to the right or left, up or down, to us or from us, through a large or a small space; and all these conscious acts are bound together and regulated in our minds by an idea of an extended space in which they are performed. That this idea of space is not borrowed from the sight, and transferred to the muscular feelings by habit, is evident. For a man born blind can feel out his way with his staff, and has his conceptions of position determined by the conditions of space, no less than one who has the use of his eyes. And the muscular consciousness which reveals to us the position of objects and parts of objects,

3 Lectures, Vol. i. p. 459, (1824).

when we feel them out by means of the hand, shows itself in a thousand other ways, and in all our limbs: for our habits of standing, walking, and all other attitudes and motions, are regulated by our feeling of our position and that of surrounding objects. And thus, we cannot touch any object without learning something respecting its position; not that the sense of touch directly conveys such knowledge; but we have already learnt, from the muscular sense, constantly exercised, the position of the limb which the object thus touches.

IO. The justice of this distinction will, I think, be assented to by all persons who attend steadily to the process itself, and might be maintained by many forcible reasons. Perhaps one of the most striking evidences in its favour is that, as I have already intimated, it is the opinion to which another distinguished philosopher, Sir Charles Bell, has been led, reasoning entirely upon physiological principles. From his researches it resulted that besides the nerves which convey the impulse of the will from the brain to the muscle, by which every motion of our limbs is produced, there is another set of nerves which carry back to the brain a sense of the condition of the muscle, and thus regulate its activity; and give us the consciousness of our position and relation to surrounding objects. The motion of the hand and fingers, or the consciousness of this motion, must be combined with the sense of touch properly so called, in order to make an inlet to the knowledge of such relations. This consciousness of muscular exertion, which he has called a sixth sense1, is our guide, Sir C. Bell shows, in the common practical government of our motions; and he states that having given this explanation of perception as a physiological doctrine, he had afterwards with satisfaction seen it confirmed by Dr. Brown's speculations.

II. Thus it appears that our consciousness of the relations of space is inseparably and fundamentally connected with our own actions in space. We perceive

4 Bridgewater Treatise, p. 195. Phil. Trans. 1826, Pt. ii. p. 167.