ay return
inward after its outward journey. The animal "knows"--the man not only
"knows," but he "knows that he knows," and is able to investigate that
"knowing" and speculate about it. We call this higher consciousness
Mental Consciousness. The operation of Physical Consciousness we call
Instinct--the operation of Mental Consciousness we call Reason.
The Man who has Mental Consciousness not only "feels" or "senses" things,
but he has words or mental concepts of these feelings and sensations and
may think of himself as experiencing them, separating himself, the
sensation or feeling, and the thing felt or sensed. The man is able to
think: "I feel; I hear; I see; I smell; I taste; I desire; I do," etc.,
etc. The very words indicate Mental Consciousness recognizing mental
states and giving them names, and also recognizing something called "I"
that experiences the sensations. This latter fact has caused
psychologists to speak of this stage as "Self-consciousness," but we
reserve this idea of the "I" consciousness for a higher stage.
The animal experiences something that gives it the impressions or feeling
that we call "pain," "hurt," "pleasant," "sweet," "bitter," etc., all
being forms of sensation, but it is unable to think of them in words.
The pain seems to be a part of itself, although possibly associated with
some person or thing that caused it. The study of the unfoldment of
consciousness in a young baby will give one a far better idea of the
grades and distinctions than can be obtained from reading mere words.
Mental Consciousness is a growth. As Halleck says, "Many persons never
have more than a misty idea of such a mental attitude. They always take
themselves for granted, and never turn the gaze inward." It has been
doubted whether the savages have developed Self-consciousness, and even
many men of our own race seem to be but little above the animals in
intellect and consciousness. They do not seem able to "know themselves"
even slightly. To them the "I" seems to be a purely physical thing--a
body having desires and feeling but little more. They are able to feel an
act, but scarcely more. They are not able to set aside any physical
"not--I," being utterly unable to think of themselves as anything else
but a Body. The "I" and the Body are one with them, and they seem
incapable of distinguishing between them.
Then comes another stage in which mental-consciousness proper sets in.
The man begins to realize that
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