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Flora makes a Mermaid of us all! At this point Flora feels heself the need to make a view explainations of her own. She is busy wondering at something, perhaps a little of the wall in Hume. Where she wants to start is the oddness richness in this conceptio of others. But here perhaps she has already not quite in the right place, for she has forgotten that this odd richness itself is osnttuted in causality. Hum,e sets this argument up very carefully. Causality is very strange he claisbecause alone amongst his three pirinciples it is predictive; and operates in the inferring from one impression another, curtosy of an idea. The stangeness of this lies in the fact that ach such inlfection is of itself unpervcivable. One cannot perceive cause, and yet that does not stop one inferring a connectipon between logically sperate elements, and doing so with a vivdness that is more than the vividness of simple ideas (if less than the vividness of impressions themselves). Causailty necessarily articulates the split between impressions and ideas in various ways. Firstly it is clearly articulates at the very cusp of the split of idea and impression. A Cause is founded because an a simple idea is, in the moment an impression given indiscernible from the impression itself, and shares at that moment in the vivacity of the impression itself. This vivacity is then held (or a time), after the impression itself has passed, and will then be communicated to (or perhaps better combine with) subsequent simpl iodeas, and their attendent impressions. The entire sequence of ideas will then be far more lively than a sequence of imagination 9and hence Hume suggests will be emory). Hereone needs care. What founds this tranfer is not time (hume has of copurse dismissed this move), such as the gentle force of contiguity. This force, as withal the principle is neither a mechanisms inspiring a certain unity (aka Kant), or a way of expresisoning a hidden unity which is always there (Bergson), so much as a trick ofvivactiy itself. As one follow a principle onme fids that the vivacity of sucessiveimpressions supports one another (hence the gentle force), and the imagaintion as a whole therefore grows in strength. Hence the previous argument, that principles rest within aThe orbit of Amy. They articulate the power of the split off of vivd impression and vivacious imagaintion: theycefine why this split matters to the mind (and what follows on from this). Of course sofar there is nothing particualrspecial aboput the stripof memory ( Gyspy Pancks snort here, as it seemed specialanough to him). But what I mean is that this memory willhen itself is suibject of fading. The vivacoity of te stip ill then be ofa limted duration, all the more so as differing the differing impressions within it might well recur (I some for or other0 I the conext of entirely different sequences, and the percualrly of the sequence held within a certain ause wil lthen be utterly lost. Causailty of course needs the secod dimsnio of a subsequent repeat of more or less the same sequence (a trickyissue that more o less). The one memory will then, via resselbance be pecualrly spliced into the other: Both times will communicate with once another, so that the mind, as it follows the sequence of causes looses sight of exactly what occasion it is caught within. The sequence it follows is clearly both times: The Meory then shares not only in the intensity of one impression, but also now it two; and as the event is repeated again and again, this intensity of this idea, with sequence will only urther increase.. .To this combination of times a third temporal dimesion needs to be added. After numerous repeats of a sequence, one starts to oritnate oneslf within it curiously. If one has an impression within the mind of an elements which appear to follow that sequence, then the order itself is taken as a witnessed to being within that causal chain. The vividness of the impression is then transferred to the sequence of ideas itself, and suddenly the entire dea Ias given in the habit) is before ones mind. One mind then slips into a mermaid for, whee one time resonmtes (or is rather combined) within another, while that other is itself the amalgum of numerous other memories. A causal atcualtes time in a double sense. firstly it takes a sequencewhci is givien in contiguity (and theefore merely in the set of occurrences), and slits that sequence off. It is then set up as a maxim or a standard; with the imagination making the illicit assumption that elements from th past might ell repeat again. But then this sequence s only set up as a standard becase (via resemblance) its contiguity is actively torn out of other sequences. It is articulated then asa local memory: a strip of impressions, which stand alone, and can dop into , and out of temporal orders that is order of contiguities, which it pulls otherwise (one must be careful her – hiume of ourse has dismissed time, or rather subsumed it under the operation of congruity, its grubber). ( Flora is getting very read, and soon must interrupt). But the pojtn being mad here, is that the articulation of memory makes causality not merely a point of inference, but also a point of speratin. A sequence is torn from contiguity, and made to stand alone. Csualoty ios therefore isperatble from a complex appleal to something different to another. This appeal is all the some complex as that other is b no means simple, buth rather, must be resolves into various different elements. Flora cannot contain herself anymore. This was the point she wanted to start at. She wonders at a certain pojt in Hume. He argues that vivacity of tied to both impression nd obects. As one forms an impression of an object, the idea of that object recives a measure of the vivacity of its impression. Each perception of that objet (and therefore each attendent simple idea) naturally uns into each other, and wil ldo s until an idea of another objectoccurs; one hat then precludes this first obect, and the vivid transfers. Two of three things then strike Flora about this vividness. Firstly, it appears to her to create not one axis of difference but two. One the one hand there is the mystery of impressions., Impressions, which appear so like simple ideas, and yet which suddenly add a strange vividness to those ideas; which suddenly make this idea more powerful and more dangerous: Which then einfe a sense within a mind as to how these ideas can be useful for the mind itself: that tis how the idea assoicated with these impression have a power not given in the imgination itself; how then they have the power to be a principle. Principles are then set up within imgination, and yet in refence to another, an impression, to the strange difference that impression gives to the imagined mind. And yet for all this being within the mind, the same process also must attribute this vivacity to something else. Hume’s use of objects here is clearly significant. The mind might have vivd idea, and yet those ideas are related to spomethign external. Nor is this thig merely an illusion, a thing in itself, beyond all perception. Far from it: Although this perception might of itself be quite unprecivable (as a matter at hand), it is assumes presence, and assumed continuence of effect learly matter to the empirical mind,. The impressions vivacity might not belong to the external matter at hand, but still that vivacity is always occasion in its presence, and is effected in realtino to it. Or perhaps far better (as it really does not miuch matter to Hume whther this element is real or not). The impression itself it clearly linked wo (or perhaps associetd within) a set of changes within he body, which create an eay tranfer of cerain impession which are in the process of being given. Cusality then starts in a strange place, it starts with two heads: the othenrss of impression, which make an idea vivid, and so breed something different, something odd, a mermaid of belif. But also an assocation between this mpresison and something else, something beyond the system, and apparently externalto it (somewhere); without which the entire process would not be effected. Flora says at this point, this was always the problem,. She knew both that the vivacity of her ideas was somehow linked to the impressions she had, and not in any clear order. Ideas, such as Arthur’s retun wil lthen take her on strange flightsof fancy of her own ; And yet at the same time she also could then only attribute those flights to process in the external world, to something else. Moreover this other other, (in her case frequently the terrible Mrs clennam, to woman you destroyed her young dream), was a study in complexity itself. on the one hand she clearly hand a strange atypical realtino with Amy herself. His Clennam could turn her back on the world, and yet her kindess to Amy (witnessed by Affery, but remarked at by Flora). That is Amy, who straddles articulates the split of Impression and idea, who gives their double sense, in the peculiar favourite of a women whcan only be thought of in terms of an arbitary outside. And yet, at the sam time the rason for this favourite status is itself then hidden within the muystety of the the Wathc (Do not Forgot), the injsitice of Mrs Clennams Past, a world Amy herself can be made to confont only at the cost of ruining the most (and cruishing identity). The latter elemtns in this process are hidden from gFlroa. All she knos is that thereis a strangenss in Amy;s realtino to Arthurs mother, whc hcannot b easily accounted for; a strangess which appears to combine both dimesion of otherhood, thatof impressions, and that to which they must infer. But fglora has not finished with her first point. Sh has also notices siomethign weird,. And strangely (for er conforting0 about the use of vivacity in Hume. Itwould be very easy to confuse liveliness or vivacity within force and intsity ( hem wil luse the idea of force after all0. Bu to makethis move is clearly to confuse the romantic period, with its tortues ‘souls; with the elightnment, with all its brilliancy. The point surely about vivacity (or being lively0,a t least for idea, lies in the fact that each such impesison naturally is caught in articulating other impressions. To be lively is then to b a pojtof tranfer, a point which demands othe rimpressions follows, and follow accoridn to the vivacity, the peeling of vidiness of each impression. Amy her is clartly at work. Each impresisopn in sense occluding is vivacious, it is over, and yet speaks, and wishes to carry onspeaking through other. Ideas at then the prduct of this vivacity. Hece the easy taner ofimpression oen to the other in ideas, is itself he proicut of the vivacity itself;of the articulation of the self occluding impression into and across other thoughts (with each one of these thoughts being different). Such a process is clealy not realy intense. Each perception is of course difference fom the next, and yet is not different from itself. On the contrary, as it is vivacious it is both both othe, but oover in such a way that animates othes, that inspires and enriches them, ad the the linsthey establish beeween themselves: but doe so in such a way that each one of those others reamin external to one another, even if all are vacouis togther. A Vivacity therefore animates element which although these are each vivacious in their own right, and each reaming (as they were impressions) different from each other. Flora nodds viorously here. The point of her conversatin, the point of causality does not lie in some spuriolus unity, or in force. But ather in rapd and urgent combination of elements ithn must reami ndistinct. Or to put it another way, this vivacity matters because it is by being vivacious that a mind courts its own power (and divorces that power from externals). The external is then just that (I mean here the matter at hand), must reamin absolutely that. Its power in the Humean system is ultimately dired in the mind form impressions, which as they are in the mind at least real to the pecualr power by which ta mid is given 9anmd therefore not t any external reality). The mind migh then necessarily confugure external realities, and the mechanics of vivacity might make these realites inevitable, and yet, it does not follow that the external element has a power over these realities. The vivacity, and the ideas assocated by it reamin te product of the mind. Any reality the object might enjoy as a matter at hand, will then reamin mysterous and elsewhere: The merely postulate of a minds vivacity. Perhaps, with her genius for splicing words togth0 For a might calm that the power of the mind lies in the fact hat its ideas are at once externally internal, and internal external. Thgt is, a mind givien in vivacity, has a power to arrange ideas in vivd streaks of thought , whose very vivacity will initself (as it is givien) be taken as a witness of somehtng else, something quite different, which somehow naturally owned that vivacity in itself (the self oculding impression). The very fact that allow the mind vivacious ideas (and so gives its thogths it can posses),. Attributes those thoughts to soemthign else, even if the susbstance of this otherhood is indisitnguidhible from the any one of the ideas thesemvle( as an impression and simple idea are indistinct). And yet this attribution occurs at a level way below the threshold of objects. Object, the attributaion of the external world, I then the way within habits (and al lthe web of links between related objects) oe established a set of transfers of viacity as ones one. The world in then owned by the mind (it has thoughts of its own) in he sequence eof habits: in hab=ving this thought and not that, with vivacity and no other), However Flora knos it is not qute so simple even as this. If the latte rpoint is true, then all objecys are already the product of the mermaid state. They ar enever simply their, but rather inilve the amalugum of numerous impresion, numerous different times, all repeated into the single time. Nor is there any real ogic in these combinations: On the contary slide slips are numerous and commin. Hume himself argues that many ihabit are formed more or less immediately because all there varying elements are thght to ressemble other well established dimension of the mind (). It follows herefore that vacity is never simply following reality, or a sequen of imporession, but is rather at each and every occasion the work of a slow digestion, asimpression ae digested acoss ech other, d ralities picked and unpicked. The logic of vivacity then flies in the face both of straight fowrads contiguities (which see only their neat orders), and simple sets of ressemlbance (the repating o pasts). It is wonder Flora notes, that the doctor prescribed her sherry to mix with her sentiments. For what is vivacity but an illict conconction of imressions? At what hen is a better inducer of such a concontion, that medialc sherry (or brandy or port), which makes anyidea so much bright. Her pojntis of course that the effect of Hume’s move is to unpic all pretense at realisim. What is real is the vivacity: Or much better. ‘reality/ swing on on vivacity; and vivacity itself is volatile, and never (beyond Amy at last) formally present. Flora in whpping herself upwith sherry,isthen simply forging new realities within herself; Aje uses either sherry or sentiment, alchole o memory, to splice a prewnt impression, with a seuenc eof the past, and therby breeds herself a mermaid (whose grasp on the reality of others is then problematic). Or to put it another way, the simple trackway of impression and vivacity is clearly enedlessly subvertable, and bastard habits abound, a fact known only toowell to both Flra and Hume. This last pojtnm then slowly leads Flora to her next form of otheing: the possible. Wah tinterests her in the possible is doublefold. Firslty the possible clearly operate as feeler for the habitual. The possible sends out, as it were element, uns up contguiguites, as possible ahbits; or possible frgement or container of frag,ments of abits. The possible willtherefoe create extra doimensions, and will allow a habit to be practive and even expanisive. But also the possible clearly brreds new monsters, in that it open up the same habit to think two things at once. As an occurrence ispissible one habital sequence sudenely spl;its of itn two distinct sequences. Nor s it very likely hat these sequence can be kept simply apart from one anotherOn the contary, as both occur within the mind at once, new dimesinino re clearly added between two opposites, and ne monster of actually impossible events might well be opened. The mind becomes then, in ther service of possible open tolinkingion differing ways conflicting opinions: Flora will hen discover that she can very easily say things at once; and hat a remark that was meant to preclde talking of Artheur ( who ought she knows be Mrs Cennam, or Mr Doyce and Mr Clennam), can easilt silip into saying he oppsiote, or ven breed monsters,m where she both denies that she still love Clennam, and yet gives him lgnuishing looks, and says that she does love him all the same, Possiblities then catches here in a web, where a simple denial,, the simple ‘not buing contguios’ so not true, ecomes problematic, and open to other ways of seeing this non rewlations.A mermaid is then naturally given. Flora looks a little sad here, but the revives as she has rembered soemthing. If on takes as ones principle the idea that possibility involves habits gradually expanding, then she has of herself clealy invesnted some new means to expand habits. Furstly she calims that her apparent nonesiniacl saments are clearly a way of developing habit. The point after al lof the possible was that elements which appears not to be realited suddenly become cauight up in one another: Here Flora has various Firstly, she exp;ores in the apparnt nonese of her rears the other persoans reaction to her, and does so in sch a way that llows things to be said that could nto otherwisebe allowed for. For examokle, when Arthur retuns to see her unmarried, from China, given tere early wonderig it isonly natal for her to wonder if he did still ove her( a wondering which was made all the more problematic becausehe stil lwondered it to). She the explores his thoughts, in a sequence of statements, which allow her to perceive with the aquteness ‘of a much clever women’146) tht she was firmly a thing f this past. Ahis habit of mind is then unconvered across this confusion, as is so even thoguhshe cannot then act on that knowledge ( a point I retun to). Secondly, it is clear in her splicig of emories, and her unaility to simply accet a past was over (or her feeling the needs to account for it, as it it were somehow present), she is exploring what it mans for Arthur to retun to them. A problem which is by nomeans simple. Even givien his lack of regord, she can only wonder whther that lack of regard is of itself permanent or rather could lead to something else. To apoligize about that which needs no aplogy is then of offer anither the chance to think to by retunsing to the wold ways, to discover withn those ways new possibility. A mermaid mind is then not simply the breeding of old moster. Rather it is the case that in that cross breeding, new popsiblieis, new doimenasion might have been added, or to put in another way, givien habits radiate out from memory, flora isinivting (as much latter she confesses to Asmy773), Artheur to establish new links with her, starying from the apst, and moving out. The mermaid is then not a radmom act, bu an attempt to make a set of memories proactive. Flora trajedy or at least problem at this point is that Arthur refuses to play ball. He sees only what she is now, only her mermaid stauts, as so does not enter into that status himself, and so breed a new realtion with Flora. Thirdly, there is Flora’s verbal dexteriuty itself. She breeds unintentionally new ways tolink impressions. Here of course she is develoiping one of the elements of causality. A Causailty does not react to the world it knows:on the contrary it takes ement wihin are givien to it by coingugities and bulding up a universe f vivacity for suh elements. Possibilities are then a case in point., A confsed nonesinse of apparently ranom chaings if impressions awaiting reolstuoon. Flora therefore, operating in the itnersts of the habit meinvests in her splicing fo words new congruities, not claring initially whthr those contguuities ‘make sense’, as she knows full well the sense will come latter (or not at all0. Hence she remarks that mrs Clennam was fate in a go-cart a comparison she makes all the more vivid by aplogiziing for it (269). This reading of Mrs Clennam’s charcter is of course exactly right (asone sees latter). She does indeed understand herlf as a figure of revenge providence, and yet her vengeful spirit is crippled by its own anger and restiricted in its effects and power. Flora therefoe throws out the hypothesis of clue, the stagne combination, whose very stangenss is then an element to be developed. She does it again when, in her interview with Mr Dorrit, she fails to sperateout the eprsona;ities of Mrs Clennam and Flintwhich: Describing in one breath Flichwhich as a rust screw in Giaters and Mrs anam ina wheelchair, and doing so such that Dorrit could not not say one,two (or even many) individuals were begn rfed to here. The description, nonsensical fo itself then plays to a double dimensio. On the one hand it inspires Mr Dorrit to sally out and try o discover what happened to Blandois. One the other it provides a fiurther clue to the fact that Mrs Clnnams and Flintwhich’s history are caught by eachother (as if in a flintwhich screw), and not to be resolves from one another untilClennam and co collapses )589). Once again Flora theefore casts a net at were, and in an apapent nonsense hollws out a space withinwhich other elements are resolved. But Flora has not finished quite yet, she clealr has two futher ruses. Firtstly there arehe journei, both real and imagined. The aim of Flora’s journeyings, to manufacture within contguities elements that resive apparent nonesquotrs in vivacities. Take for example her Her imaginavtive reconstruction f Artheur’s life inChina. The point fi this imagination is not that it is realor nmot, but ratrherthat it allows her to navigate complex feeling of love. Ther problem being that the love she and Arther felt, as it slipped into their pasts, simply most being personal,She is caught then in having a feelujgn of olove for a figue called Arthur. In bger imagination she then places this impersonal and yet startnegely personalized love ( her own love without her asoocatied with ti), in China, ad gives Arther a lover there, ; and expresses her distance fro his is ealtino to that life. The Joruneythen both order events, but also creates a landscape of shifting possibilities within which thouight can then be establish, and habits formed. Nor o these journeys need to be imagined alone. on eht econtrary Flora sllies out three times in the book, and use the strangenss of her journeying, to impress on Arthuer her desire to hire Hire’ on Amies father the need for him to intervenbe in other occasions; and to explain to ~my thatshe really does nto mind about her marriage to Arthur. Each journery then opens up dimensions in perceptions, and places them a a realtion which demands a subsequent resolution It places an action to the foeof te imnd, without itself acting in any way. Possibility therefore extends habit by opening up a space or perhaps setting the parameter to a space within which a resolution can occur. That resolution might then be eitherone of the two option, or might well inilve a middle postion shared by both apparently different sequences ofimpressions, or mightbe spemthign even more complex (as both possibilities are caught up in a greater habit). likewise other feelers reach oout be extending what a memory does, or better what an apparent confusion in the mind can do, an how it can as impressions occur once again, reapt its deimensions. The possible(and its vaiations) are the then emanicaption of the habit: the habitual becomes creative in that is spawns new element, nw possibilities, whose relations it coordinates, and whose own possiblit it gurantees. The tranfer of vivaocity, the sense of vivaociousness itself I thereby allowed to also say other things… But her final strategy is by far the most original., and developes a second aspect to possibility. Possibilities power must surely lie in is abilty to be at odds with what has happened. Up to the point the possible emrges, a seqeucne of impressions hasfreely trasnmitted its vivacity from impress to impresss. The possible is then the point this freedom erupts: impressions reedom bcomes thereby directly arrticualted within the mind, which pauses and wonders what also could be. The possibility of a cahsm opens up the in the world between apparently conflicting elements or dimesions. It is then this dimension, which Mr F’s aunt surely the developes.I dicused earlier that she operates as a purely external factor (whose name I unknown, and hpse point of rference unheard of – there is no uncle George, and HIM might or might not be Clennam.. Her remarks therefore insert breaks in convesation breaks only Pancks can then handles (150, and 260), or Flora with the aid of time (and newpaper, pie gravy, and brandy (774). She therefore allows the habit to break of fro what has happened, in the same way that a possibility allows a break. This break the allows Flora to break off from the conversation, and to go about other business. Habit therefore finds in her what otherwise it lacks, the abilty to give a difference, a element which ought to below to another habit, another dimsion; The power of possibility both to impose a break, but also to both ensure that what is expreses myriad conflicting possibilities as it is linked to a matrr a thand (which could always be different frm it seems), and theta therefore anyones immediate calim to a set of event (that is a simple immediate calim to a habit) is itself suspect. Hemce (with the perception and cleverness Flora attributes to her) the Aunt reacts to Clennam’s telling am of thegood news that her father is wealthy with the reark thatit was not of is doing, and that He should not calim the cedit’ and that it will be ‘long eough before he gives up any of his own money’ cpuld be attrbiuted to ennam (for whom the first two point are accurate, while the final point, is money is thought as treasure is accurate enough); and this is attributed to be the case int=he text (which is itself rare, as usually the amibuigity oof the Aunts remarks are streed); but it could equally refer to Amy;s father or even to Pancks himself 9who acted only to find out realizatino that were always there, and who was careful within hism money, and yet gave it to Mrdle and thereby runined not just myself but also Clennam). He He the at once imposes the break: omethign has haoppned, and yet that thing is left external of events, and belongs to an element which reamisn utterly outside of thinking. Ths far two postive elements have been developed. One the one ahnd viviacity needs not to be confused within power or force. The vivicopus element puns extensity and intesnty, giving the two in the same beasic throw: the vivacious ot then suspended from normalr eality, which ti constructs,. As such it is able to create links between apparently diverse elements, and open up the articulation of new ways f thinkings, whther theppssible, both abolstue (everything s merely a custom) and particul (this or that or both) becomes creative. However this argument Hum is more than aware is haunted by a stooge. Power has the abilty very easily to claim the giths of the vavous. Power then operates to say ‘oh yes, that in yu was me all along’. This move has to clearly different ascepts. On theone hand there si the attribution to somthignother, soemthign external; to another power. This other can be undertood of itself in two different senses. Firslty thereis the power f Mrs’ Clennam, to power with operates I being unwond within vents. Mrs Cleannam cannot herself move, and yet are arbtary power is singed by everyone elses live. And yet that power os it itself internal to the system (the co,plexity of this internality is soemthign I wil lretun to). The power she wields is then givien not be herself, bu in her effect in others: in thway opthers, be they Cleannm or Affery or Flintwhich himself think of her. Hence no doubt the aposit title Flora gives her. She is really Fate in a Go-cart. In herself restricted I movement, and unable (apparently, save in ergerncy, and in quest of Am,y) to arise from her wheel chai, butto gther all else into herself, and into her power. Thisis then clearl very different to the power of circumlocation. This power is opf itself abiitry: It lies not so much in other giving it, as in the fact thtta noe can find it., or attribute it. Look where you will, the entire mechanisim of power is somehow lacking: Every act changes at is is givien, in the giving, and one o e always, allthe way up look to another powers system inorder tofind out how one can and should be thinking. The power of Mrs Clennam lies then is the vivacity she provokes in others: To thginkher is to be caught empbdyin soetnhing else, and doeing so in a way way that encourages connection between thoughts. The olower of circumlocuatyion.ies in its perpetual attribution to something lese. Its power is then never in the moement, in its effect, butrather in the delay of its effect. It is in making this delay, is straddling a connection between aendlessl attributions, that it ‘acts’. Its power is then the power to demand that those it catches always look elsewherefor the cause. Hence Hume’s calim tht thught needs not to add everyhtig new: the power of vivacity is lies in this non-creation: tah tis it lies not in ceation of soemthign new (as that needs to reamin a mystery). Its power lies in the very unfishned stament, in the demand, to have further consequence to work out a foce in making other links, which still exist soemhwere else: that is in its abilty to straddle into other versio of wjhat already are (and thereby take over the power of imressions, to breed new lins within: That it its power lies not in the new (what impression is ever in new) so much as the taking over of the old, or rather its articualtio into the mind: the claims and balndishment of the new, new with the second defintino, with power. This second find of power is then the illict calims Hume attacks. It is the claim which the external makes on internal effect, the claim to have always beebn there, always been thateffect. A claim which is allthe more problematic because if one could then turn to the external element, not only would ones percetipn npot yield anything that amiohted to power, but also its very existejnce would force one to look again elsewhere. Power will then form itself as a purely external elment: the power of circumlocuatino of course effectively l.ies within this attributions: it is that which claims this externality of its own. The rpoboem is its methodlogy. Here Dickens presents almost lineage of effect. Lord Brancle’s man of business is Ctabsy: Power therefore claims its operation in duration, a duration. Or as Huem, might have it the power lies in he connections one draws, the instances, the articulation of sequences of impressions. Duration then takes that as its duahgter (although the man is different, an the only passions it shares iis its ability to digest everything). However of coruse things are the complex, because dutation itself is powerless. Catsby is grasp, look benveloent, poses as a partirach and ever acts. Duration then acts through having a man of business, Packs (or gyspy contiguity): While under his big tent there lives of course themeraid haibt, and the erption of the present (Flora and Mr F’ aunt). Time then throws in grasping net over prinmciple who togtyehr enact its it as apower. Hume (and evn more Dickens this then amount ti a simple inversion of reality).Power I, like circumslocuation and duration is derivtauve upon another principles. Flora is more than aware oif this dimision to her Ftaher (who is afterall the man whose opinion is nedlessly givien by Pancks). She therefore knows her fater’s power lies in twirling events about, .Morevoer she knows herself , as her fatherdaughter is not innocent of this power (which is how he strikes Clennam on meeting her). Her [ower she knows then allows in the ability to artiucualte this twirling, that isto make it actually a force for (misguided good. For example her visit to Mr Dorrit, sees her excise a powerof confusion. She persuades M Dorrit to act as she wishes he would be articulating hs past in such a way that he effels that it is his duty to protect an ex assoacted: Her journey then splices pasts to create an action I the present, an action , or rather demands a resolution across different thoughts: The oast is thennot siply lies around passively acting, bu rather (in the fom anforce of vivacious impression, and the ideas which surf them) awaiting thenuancing of principles, who in strange journy’s of their own articulate the vacity according to realtino of their own. Hnce for Flora the rproblem lies oin thinking not a vapid time,. Which makes a too ready synthesis of theotuside with the inner world it creates. That is it is forher too easy to confuse the externality of the demand, of th aunt, whiuch deamdns that time moves different and that an encounter shold end or procede to a sudden violent outcome (Sometone should be throuw from a window), with power and with duration: Hume does not have no reasonfor not using once the notion of synthesis; but only conjunction, and union. A Conjunction, as a compostion allows the parts to reamin utterly seprte, and only linedion vivacity, and by demandsing one another, and Flora, in her own way kniows it. The habit might need soemthign ecternal, andyet that external is itself nit shadowed in the habit itself: To forgte this fact is to loose sight about what gives that principle its power, namely the perceptions and intensites. It is then o loose sight ogf the active power which drives the mind: the power or force tolink up element which are never ourely outide or inside (impression and dieas), and do so such away that other ideas, other impressions are implicated. More than thn to fail to understand this link in terms of the articulation of the self occulding impression, and their vivoicity, is to mistake Amy, to loose sight of her, and o grasp only after Catsby, and the deaths head o Lord Barancle (th man with only one, internable jopke) behind him. It is henbofr cuase not a considence thatatthe end of the book, when the Patriach has been denounced as a Booby, and Florqa has come to undertand the true power of Amy herself (who he proudly notices she was the first rally to notice merited soemthign other than the name little Dorrit); she allies not with her father but the incedientar y Pancks, his denouncer, as she realizes her power l;ay not wththe twirling aorundof time, but the power of a liberated contiguity. However the argument ha now spin far too far ahead. What matter in the current context is that the different taes Hume provides of otherness, on the knid of thing that remains diifferen remains respected, and one abous not the effeace it in any too rapid moves. Floa’s mind though haslaready wandered on: She is looking now at the notion of belief, a d nodding with new approval. Again one need care in what she notices: Belief she might argue presents he handbook of the Mermaid. A Mermaid according to Dickens ‘soewhat unfair’ rendtion of it, involves an inmdviidual how postis two or more times at once. Flor becomes the mermaid therefoe by posting both her continued devotion for Arthuer, while simulatenaously deying that shje can marry him, and asserting that Mr F made her not love him at all. Flora quietly eamrks to herself (but knows it is not really part of her discussion with Hume) that is this so odd? Is not, are not most memories like that. Is not, she woders the mystery of emory that it takes one bak to an earlier state, forces the problemof that state on the mind. The Mind then suddenly finds itself as a mermaid: in theast, and the urgency of the past, and the present. All the more so when that past inilved lust or hopes or merely desires of its own. Pasts are not inert, she would add, but have a horrid abilty to straddle into presents. Given which the meriad is both natural, but also productive: gor ho else can one breed from the past eleentns in the present but by being both at once? Is thjis not Hume’s point? A habit diretly breeds a new flicker ion th mind, a new series of expectation, of a s esne thepast and present articulate together, and should do so. Flora therefore sees this, and thinks that need not be such a bad idea or who knows what othe rpossiblites, what othr resolutions lie wallowing in the fact they are past? Eelemnts which mere memory itself, she (and here Hume would arggree with her) no not draw out. It rembmer the fact a thin has past, or even to rembmer the gulf of time between you and it is nothing, achieves noting beyond the Catsby memory. What one needsis to splice a meory togther: to juxtapose different events ; possibly widely psperated: Only thn Flora thinks, only in the lashing of the mermaid herself, can discover soemtyhign different; can one discover Amy. But she knows she has digressed a little. The point she was actually making (before thought of her Father dirve her elsewhere) was that belief is by its nature illicit: beeif is never qite legiatamt. That is the mind very naturally turns in having a belief from a present toa past (and an inferred future). It has no reasosn, and certainly no right to make this ,move. The external world of the aunt remains able to erupt at any time, and denounce whatever it finds. The Moveis then illegitimate, it is monstrous, and yet… The Mermaid is then all the more mosterous because it necessarily inlve a confusion. When onebeleifs te vivacity of the present imression (or set oimpression) is confused with element os memroeis: With that is a past. Each impression is then singular, and yuet articulating. Something else, something unseen, who effect is greatly strengthed by the process. Beleifs are then simulataneously anchored in mressions, and yet the articulated in imaginations Here, if he was here, she woulsd no doubt turnto look at Clennam, this wasof cours ehte point he never qite understood. He saw onlythe mermaid, and failed to understand tht his presence in gland was quietly inspiring the mermid hjerself (an inspiration his old hopes was complictous it – this is a poijnt I return to). Moreover she notes that the effect of this belief is quite literally to make a monster of the imagination. The Im agaiantion is torn from its innocence of speculating about drgaons or gods, ad forced to acquess to memory; a perilous path, is one inverts this move (as so moves from the congtuities ofduration bck to imagination) one get lost in the by ways of duration. Imagaination is then corss bred within impression, and set against itself, but also against reasosn (which would claim something utterly different). To become a mermaid is then to be using impressions, is no mere fanataist, ut rather theludocrousness of the f truth itself… And yet once this meraid state is realized, then things become even more complex. The provblm is then that without identieis, it clearly becomes imposible to hold a habit down: Hume will quite chirply admit that habits contain many lements, and complex beliefs, are artoicualtes by having elements, impression which asd they are repeatedare caught up in certain beliefs and so strength them. Flroa would then add a point of her own. Once the mind is seen to contain very amny different impressions, then its is never simply ‘thjeir’., An object, or even a realtinoship , for example Mr F’ regard for her, is never simple. It will therefore never be merely postied at that it is. On the contary it could be postied by numerlous conflicting impressions (as a fig and an olive involve both sight andtaste). Each habit will then have a great many enrty points: It becomes then by no meansa simple act to say what posts them. Flora, in talking of Mr F’s regad for here, does nto clearly sperate out the spoken from the seen: Dhe claims that Mr F was so devoted to her that he could ‘never hear her out of his sight’ (269); splicing in the remark eleemtns of desire, of hearing and of sight: The point here is simple enough. The Habit does not as it is habitual descirmate between differing imressions, hey all communicate to one another is diverse ways. It is of couse the cas that the entire set of event needs to be held within a conguios relation: thee needs then to be a belief. And yet within that raltino what it is to post a part of it is complex; and as lon as all the impressions within it reamin conetected in someway, many different elements can communicate impressions to its parts. Once this remark is made, Flora, looking slightl wisful mentioned two (or it is three) others. Fristly the mraid state is clealy intergral to the abit itself. It is ingtral to the habit as a belief thjat it is never simply present: indded belief of focurse articulates that absence. The Vicacous idea I one running across elements which must always naturally and necessarily reamin different. The Question then for complex beliefs is nt oen about absence or prsence but articulation: What imporessions are taken to be articulating a habit and how? How are they then contigous? Or h0 are theyressembling (these two are of coruse not co-terminius, a point I will retun to latter).Flora finds thenCleannms very absence allow her to artocualte a story about him, and his life is China: Any, almost a radom impression is then enough to imgane this life. On meeting him she pours out a random stream of links, and connection, about the life she ha imagined for him in China; a life of simple almost random impressions which she has hear of china, and which she has then associated with Arthur’s presence and so her love : here though one needs uatino he impression of china emphsize the pecular, and with good reasosn. If the imagined wrld of china were normal’ then no doubt their vivacity would spread over allth other ideas in which they are implicated. Flora therefore in a sense cannot, when using this method makes sense (anymore than a fantady maeks ense). It veryabilty to lend a belief a had, therefore means the impression neesa to be odd. But there is more here than meets the evey. One an idea, a belief articulates what ios not simply there, then other elements come in. Hume presents a clear link between passion and belif. He agues that one can only assocate a passion with a belief once that belief is founded. Flora argree with this, buit of course adds,that the extra vivacity which the passions gives the belief is enough to warp a mind. That passion will reach across the impressions, choosing those senoements which post the belief, and greatly adding to its oveall effictation. It is then no mean act to latter pull that thought apart fom all the intracies it is inovled within: Indeed, as wil lbe discussed in trun, given Flora and Clennams passions directly involved the imagination itself, this problem will become al lthe more hard. Afdditioally Hume admits (as noted above) Many beliefs are illicitly strengthed by other ressmeblnces. In Flora’s case tese ressemblaces are of corus eall the more omplex because the intial forces, the respective parents that precluded the match ae how discussing it as soemthign that will occur. Her belif is then strenghted by the very forces that appar initially topreculde it, and pitch it into the past. The Bleif is then already, before arhjur ever sees her greatly strengthed, and his presence only serves to make the belief the stonger. The problem then with complex beliefs is that it becomes almost impossble to prove thm false. But far more ciritcal, Flora might wionder where is the value in such a denouncement? Her problem or perhapos better her pioint is that a complex vivatous dea is itself a very effective way to navigte differing realties, or t least it should be. Or at least it certainly contains element that re. Th uestion is which ones? Here one needs to rember that the meraid mind ha performed a mall miracole of its own. Flora, although well to do, ha had a solu crushin exepreince. Madet to arry someone other than whoshoe loved, simply because ti as easy. Regretting thn that marriage, and yet is a complex manner; for she knows that simple rjectino is not approrioate. Then facing the problems of what to do once that Husabnd was dad, and how she felt about that dath 9and the relations it opened up both with the Aunt, an with Arthuer). Obliged then to reutn to ,ive with her greedy and grasping father, and his bizarre adjunct. Her life, although not necessary as hard and my’es was far from simple,. Nd yet through it all she has, in hger meraid mind retines a basic goodness that can, when called on reassert itself. Here Arthur’s double standard is no doubt most pesent. He hd wanted his Flora to show the goodness of spirit she dopes at time show. Bt then it their yoputh that goodness had been taken up in constcting imaginary world with him. It I thn to thense orld that spirit retuns: In those meraid world it hides. Artheur, forwhom Flora remains firmly a thingof the past fails to realize this fact. He sees only the meraid, with its occasion bursts of soemthgn else and finds no way to ge at the ast> Or better he has no tase (due to phuscial reasons) to ge at that past. This last fact is of coruse al lthe more problematic because heorgianl ‘fell in love’ with pPewt because of her ressemblence to Flora in his imagination. He therefore ehas chosen the ‘worse’ prt o Flora to look for, and finds that this prculdes his being aboe to talk to the better part (is it any wonderFlora calls herself a relict?). That is he is caught up in a ressemblence realtin, and faisl to see exactly how the habi is honouring him. And yet thisleaves still a problem,. Gvienthat a habit is complex, and has a dimension of validity which is soemthign a little different from its simple truth (which ultimately clearly makes no sense) and yet irresolvable into the idea of the past (which it articulates and yet debauches0, one is left wondering what that turht it. What is it hat ahabit ha recongized, anf that Flora finds. Or to put the uestio as Asrtheur did, what exactly has he found? The answer aswer is of course the one the flew at hiom, from a darknd room, he has found Little Dorrit; although the power of that finding ius soemthign he fail, as yet to realize. Now there is little or nothing stopping Flora: She has laot to say about habits. Firstly she thinks that Hume has confused himself somewhat about the priority involvd within a good habit.The point about a belief is not really that it imposes a rule about past and future, such that the exact past must reapt. If that was the rule bothHume and Flora knows it would simply never happen. Here Hue is quitet clear. What matters is then not individual xpereinces so much as a tranfer of vivacity in a single dirction from an impression to n idea in a certain way. Cuases are hen different from other principles because there is no reciporcality in this move: Impressions are vivacity is given and nothing more (110). So that Flora thinks so very good. The implications here though are considerable. Hume has an aching desire to find something a little different she thinks to what he has found. What he has found is a wayto found truth of the transfer of vivacity: A thing is true because it is vivacious: if, due to illness madness or divine intervention imagination ever reach the intsty of impression, then all abilty to tell truth from fiction dies (123). Likewise the are numerous schema , such as education or false histories by which the mind can intensity ideas by mixing tem with tinctures of reality. All of this of cause Flora accepts whole heartedly. She would iadd that the implication of this for habits s rather sublte. Although a habit no doubt starts is a single memory sequence,which then, in someway eapts itself, the exact nature of that repetion is by no means simple. She might therefore say she and the young Arthur forged a belief (on her part at least0 they ould marry or elope, or flee to hina, or defy their parents, or even hide in the chest. All these beliefs were said at differing times, in differing circumstances, all where then a part in the habit. habits, beliefs, are for her obviously not tied to specific chains of impressions, so much as a genralized direction, by which an immediate impression will be enriched across diverse imagination, and through it, a necessary direction (and cosequence) imposed upo an apparently random sequence of thoughts. All properly grown habits therefore ressemble very closely a conjunction of two sets f habits which me ineed considers.. Hume wil largue tht many habits (Flora would say almost all, save the very newest, such as Doyce and Clennam) are the immediate products in a mind. One knows by long example that a river is wet, and one will dron within them, and therefore does not need to learn by fresh example (104). Here then effectively an dea, thatof sinking is genral comes to take the role of a impression (an I sink), an occasio Hume certainly allows for (106). Thi Flora might argue is the usual situation Most habit are then less the regurigation of a past, and more the highly complex interveaving of impression ganered from a variety of differing sources, and inlving illict mermaid like thoughts. Again, she quotes Hume example of the building of Rome. either she nor Hume of course know what that Ancient rome was, but by reading history, by talking to people, by travelling, the impressions can be easily gathered within a single idea, based on causaility, which impose upo these ideas a single direction – the history of Ro,me. Hence Flora remarks, Hume effectivel is being pulled between two camps in these arguments. On the one hand he is very clear that what mkes a reality is givie (by and large) in vacoty, and it volatility. The reality we have is then linked to the fact that each impression, and each idea transefer to one another. This is the power of causes themslves: Cause (as other impression do not), recognize and value Amy. And yuet running across this thought s a second thought. Cuases do this in the context of impressions (whicha re always stronger), and in the desire to find quite a different other – a realtion to a external world of objects. Hue wishes then to relate causes ack nto ths world of objects, sch that the impressions somehw allow one to talkof reality. And yet of course he nows fuk well that he has undermined every such claim. But having done this, he has little or no real taste for the alternative he as fund, a sustm based of vivacity. He therefore at every opportunity attemots to realte this viviacity back to real world example,and to pretend that it somehow supports a wourld of objects. Hnce Hume argues tat impressions, and the flow of impresiso, and the repetion of events, are what is driving the process forward, rather tha conceding it is actually the vivacity, and the sens ethat a vivacity is linked to a impression which animates th whole. Flora kindly adds at this pount that she nearly made this mistake and it was only the cleve unt that showed her that Habits really are internal, and have nothing much to do with reality: they need, as the Aunt demands a ‘Him to throw out of the Winder’, and not as a withered Chapelt, to be worn with pride. However at this point Hume would no doubt reply: His point was somewhat different. He fully accepts Flora argument that causality was frequently linked to impressions andideas that never formally were: That it, as it were floats over such thoughts. And yetthe point if a true principle lies in its gentle forc. Flora’s type of causes are stridentl defined, as the Roman catholics defend their beliefs, with mummery, be might claim. The point about his causes, or rathe the point about the link he is making with imrepssion is that they need no mummery – they a simply there for all to grasp equally. Hece once can talk of tuths in the sense that certai elements in te world can alwaysbe grown, while others, such as indeed Flora’ bleif that Arthur and her would elope, will whither. Hence he woud argue his point was one of direction. The same argument certainly gives us the world of truh and falsity, and yet hat doe not mean that the fate of the true impression, and th flase one is th same in both cases. Flora her looks askance. She wonders whther Hume’s impressionms can ever be sperated from customs. Surwely she asks if that was the aim it is simply impossible? Hume replies, of course it might take time – one needs to allow truths to grow. Hue, of course knws that new falsities wil lthen surround these truths, but thinmks that their presence does not matter muich. Flora is less convinced. Dshe knws, from her own case that one can always stitch new impressions into an existing habit, and that therefoe this line might be ultimately impossible to hold. Amy, who has been listen intervenes at this point, with a typical comprise. In a sense the argument is meaningless. The problem is not aboitu truth or falsity, but vivacity; and its pitch. If one starts at different places, then one produces dfferent outcomes (and she Notes Hume clearly does this, he nodds). It is therefore always wise to bare the simple impression model in mind, as a possible esource. However it is clearly not the oly resource. More compex habits (which contain within them numerous subsidiary habit) can be just as usefl, ; and even possibley more poductve, as they allow one to say and think many thngs at once (and therefoe allow viviacity a freer hand); as long as oe always bares in mind these complexities. In the latter case, one needs to be very sensitive to the different process inoved within a habit (that is to its subsiuary habits), and work out ways to allow these habits themselves to matter. That is one must allow the mi d to form other vacities, as occasion demands: this is what Amy takes to be Hume’s assistence of simple impressions: that is on the awareness that all conjunction ae divisbl, up to the point that thir vivacity arises. Habits ae therefore to be complex, and yet in that complexity llow for othe rpossiblieis. However Amy notes with great approval Hume is ware of this. He is also aware that it makes no sense simply to insist upon impressions. Impression do not work like that: they simply are vivacious, and one cannot reserve judgement or sepate them. They come already wrapped up within our minds, already caught up in numerous moves. All we can then dois articulate those moves. Hence for Amy the important point that both are right: One is both in the middle of a mind in thes ense that Flora means the term. Each mind is automatically complex, and coantins nunmerous shifting sands of imressions. But also as one inhabits that mind one is always recokoning with unitys which could think otherwise, and pull thought slightly differently, a fact Flora needs not to loose sight of. In short Amy insists here one needs a small tinctire of sceptisim (but not toomuch) to escape the rival claims of society and mere emplirical experience . Both Flora and Hume nodd here. But then Flora wishes to add soemthign more. He argues that her conservation with Arthur, their tial love an expressed dreams, in fact shgold form the paradigm case for belief (rather than a stram in impressions). That is they talk the impressions around them, and stitched them into a single representation, a belief of what would then be.: flora here says with Pride – it is not th essence of a Habit to restagea performance of the past ‘ when th satge was dusty, when the scenery ws faded, when the youthful actors were dea, when the orchestra was emopty, when lights were out’ (147LD) . That is Flora claims the tuest habits are those almost removed from immediate memroeis. They restage themelves themselves no by thnkog one example of what has bee, so muc as gatheri what is now p withi a general misamza or direction. Hence the habit of her love fo Arthyur, and its old remberance need to breed any steady plan, but rather creates an ceaseless flow of schemes, as it wars numerous separate thought into its own direction. That is a strong habit, a pure habit is one which can be embodies in numerous distinct manners, and across numerous different occasions (including those occassin which appear to occlude it, such as being a Statue brde to soemonelse…) It is Amy who now looks troubled. She says that this si all very well (and no doubt true), but one needs not to loose sight of one of the really original elements to Hume’s thesis. Hume needs to be givewn the credit for developing a theory which allowed one to have a real depth to ons habits. Habits gradually entrench thesmevles,a nd become automatic: But also they reach out beyond thesmevles,a nd mpose other habitual realiies automatically or though memory on other process. Or they reamin volatile. Or the inolve an individual. What it was to have a habit, or not have it, orto be fighting it, or simply splling into it, and then finding onself in a slightly different habit. Flora is then herself mistake if she looses sight on this complex. Or rather, f Ay was feeling less kind she might say, that it I nw Flora’s tu to loose sight of a ahbit with a calim about the ‘real world’. Flora wants here ahbits as external force or perhaps better the external elements within which the mind occurs, and which one them merely enjoys or not. Hume’s point is much stronger than that. Habits can be like that. Ther iveand drowing is an example. And yet hat need not be the sole mechanism for giving habits, or even their ultiamtel goal;. Perhaps Flora, Hume might add, needs to realiz that she was right t attempt to end her love in marrying Mr F. Her mistake was though in making this move, she sonfuse the fact that the love didi not immediately die, with the dea that it was therefore somehow external to her, and higher tha her, and so gave a habit illict support. Hre again flora again argress, spaking quickly as she thinks. Oh that was the pint Artheur did not understand. He saw only his greedy memory – hs past. He did not appreciate how the deep prolm she had in chaing her habits. Sh no doubt thought that habit as aninractbale impersonal event: and yet it was clear yat what that event was changed. Th experience then of having mr F p;ropose numerous times (hwhen Arthur had never proposed); and of living then ith him 9and his Aunt), and being wiwed by him had itself of course altered her. The exact habit was not qute the same (even though she prtended it was). Or certainly better, overlyaing the old habit was a second dimseisino, andother habit into withich the previous one had changed. Eelemtns then that had been simply autoamitc in one, are taken and problemtized in another. But this then she notes explains the complexity, for her of Asrthur retur. He trigger old habits by his presence (and her knowledge he could, if he desired marry her now). The habits that had then become merely a private sage for the statue bride,become caught up in the life of the relict, and sh becomes a new kidn of mermai; one now populatedby vatious conflicting automatic thoughts, but slo elements of more conscious habits, and immediate decssions: Hence her slip into the use of Arether (and not Mr Clennam or Doyuce and Clenna, whi is of itself atutmoatic becomes caught up in all kind of differing other moves). Her problem is then to find in this chaos of temporalities which ae comjined withji the mind immediately o by reflectionm , exactly what needs revolving, and what, by contrast could be allowed to be left as it is. Perhaps oe might see this conflict between Hume and Flora in terms of modern Cliché. Hume, by wanting to ensure that life rests within impressions, wants to ensure the mind is always open Innate dideas are therefore impossible, and a degree of freedomto hough always wil be allowed. Ever perception is therefore potentially a part in a variety of different cuse or cnstructions. Its vivacity is an open affair. Teaching that streams that opn mind. Flora by contrast is less usre about the qualities her. Take her wandering over the Clennam house . It is clear tat she feels own passions to be caght up with the mysteries of the house. She therefore assumes, when Arthr wells er to ask to be shown it, that he has renewed hm boyhood desires. She exresses her feelings then for him in responing to the house state (when it is dark she becomes heavy, when llight she becomes light): And she desires in the house to see old elements, convinced as she was that they might presage a new proposal on the behalf of Arthr: Is is moreover ohyscially clearly every afficent (in the hose (she leans up against Arhur).(651-654). For her then o tour he hous is for her to step back nto a sdequence of memroies, where each element encourages her passions (as Hume says the roglous are encouraged by a visit to the Holy Land). So so flora, in her realm of ideas, the house is something some external object within whih her ideas are arranged: T hich tey are attributed. If Hume then wants to drag habit out with an encounter with the external impressions (and thereby angle it in realion to an external world), then Flora wishes her habits to be ideas of thesemvles, but ones tht are fimlr supported within an existing supersrucutre – with a hous: it would then in asnes ematter not at all to Flor, in this conception of things, if those deas structure was itself iannte, or better(givien Hume0 was te constrcutio of the Brain; as it matter not whther t was an impression (or a contiguity) or let an phuyscal necessity. However Amy wants none of ths deate Her point is that whatmatters at each of very point is th taking up of he external world (her she would feel very close, if she had read him to Deleuze’s dformlua capacity for affection). The Body for her no doubt had a phuycal reality, and one the impressions excite, but that does not make a perception ether about impression or hard wired idea. Rather from within those interaction, within those impressions, the body has, is fashions itself in a variety of differing ways, and can have is own powrs. Hence for every idea as it is formed, it no doubt the case that the impressions form a hard an fast rule: In a sense this must be the case, as it I this rule which allows the ideas its own vivacity. But this is neither to say (as Flora might be tempt, although, with she rembmr Pancks would not ay) that this means those ideas need to occur within soemthign else. But then it s also a mistake to simply assume that one can stat purely within impressions as soemthign else, and hope to build habits. Idea soccur far to quickly in the process a Hume concedes), and almost all habit are already the functions of ideas. That is they are the function of a conjunction (not a synthesis) which could take the same issue in link them possibli at last different Orat leat is certainly taking ele,ent of any iideas (and its attendent vivacity),a nd pulling them into other thoughts, other possibilities. It is the, for amy the conjoining of impressions and ideas, which alone ensures their freedomfro each other: Impresisons are seen as free to disrupt as they please; free that is to make new element withi the world: But idea abilty and freedom to find new models is likesiwe asserted, and fended, so lon as those modles gather I vivacity as they are given: Causailty adding to this idea that this gather itself is always direction, and inolve an expression of the vivacious in truning from oen idea to another… But Flaor’s mind has already movd on to what appears suddenly to her s specal in cuases. Sje looks to Hume and asks, is the point fo a cuase that it escapes contguitiy? I eman she says, te opoint of a contiguity is to fashi a sequenc eof events, which are rembmered in a certainorder (although the contiguous does not of course insit of that order. This order, which is the starting point of the thought would then,by the natural cause of things fade away, as other perception aose. But with a habit a resselbnece is the created between this contiguity and a subseqeuent sequenceof events (her Hume Nodd). Causalty therefore straddles the two principles of ressemblence and contiguity. Or better it defines a sense that one realtes to and become caugh be the other. Many things follow from this. Fgirsdtly is is of course the key to a memriad mind. The ressemblence here clearly does soemthignr ather illicit. It allows a simple or even a complex) contguitiy and indensity that was not quite its own.. Contguity is thereby torn from the simply flow of of time, as part in its is thought somehow to be differnect – to repeat is therefore the screw up the simple flow of a contuity, and to demand an idea is moe that a simpe imagaintion or even a memory. It is then this strnge conjuioning tha will allow element in the mind to tear out of specific contexts, and become as impressions, a stand alone belief. Flora nods here. But this is far more complex than might meet the eye. Firstly this move cannot be effected without the creation of different tenses. One needs care here not o modernize Hume. The past,mbe says existis within the mind as a sequence of seprate linked ressemblence. One needs t take special care here, not the see the word past and glaze over in a Catsby-eque revery. The past is constrted and diverse. Each It inlve two clearly distinct element. On the one hand there is the immediate pasts of experience. Yhis past is thpost o contiguity, which holds witin a trai lof impressions a certain sequence. This past is then absolutely different from that which ressemblence is no building. Ressemblance of itself simply ignores time. It establsiehs then a link between elements which are in realtiy sepeate (and which an as they are rembmer of themselves only be sperated). ‘The past’ is ths configures in a series of jumps, or memories which cannot be told quite apart from one another: The neatpatterns of contuities are thereby lost. This losing (and I wil return to latter0 is clearly very sublte . As A transer a thought to the memory of ressemlbance, a single impression ceases to be remotely singlar. This impression, is such a past in infused with various other similar (or partially similar) events, such that on can not be rembmered without al lthe others also being (to a degree) preset. Thismutliplex giving is then resolved by the mind thining of it in term of a possible future. The Past-compolexm, then becomes different fuure which are anticipated (and anticipated to the degree that the viviacity exists). The Past of resembance is ultimately then a de-individualizng affair. A seuence of impressions is only given over to it by already being a part of a myriad seqence of parrell impressions; in which precise details are (within this aspect of memory at least) lost. This myriad past then breeds a future of its own – a future of antication, but also possibility. One embodies this future then as a a series of different possible outcomesA fiuture is then very different from either past resemblances, or contguios ‘present’: Is it an image, which ream,ins and idea, and yet one looking to be: that is whichis vivid in the expectation be becoming more vivid. And yet 9unilke the contgiou present), in this expectation, has no need to simply be resolved into a single future: Many might await (although the realte strength of this awaiting, and therefore the realtivedgree each antcaption occupies he mind) will itself vary according to the rules of anticipation. The Rule no doubt (although Hume doe snto put it this way) being that as one is more certain, this aspect of the habit occupies the mind less. The Future is then itself varible by its varibality. Future can no doubt appear (at on limit) asif they were mere contiguities (and therefore certinity), while at the other willb closer to the shifting chaos of ressemblences. Thirdly, (amy is far from satified with what has so far been said); she want to exaplin what is happening her. That is why the past multiplies itself, and how this multiplication links to thecutting of of a contguitiy, and the genesis of vivacities. Infact the second of these problems is the easier to solve. The point here is that a habit is sitting inbetween resseblnce and contiguity clearly conjoins them in a very particular manner.On the one hand It is clearly the role of resemblance to split of a slice of contiguity from ll the rest. It methodlgy here is simple enough. It increases 9hough its own mechations) the vivacity of an slice in congtuity. This slice then defies the normal schemat of contiguity, where element come shine brightly and then fade. The very vivacity that is lended to it by ressemblence effect cut the slice of contiguity apart therefore from all other experience. Liewsie the opposite clealy is also the case. Ressmeblance lef tot hesemlves are clearly very messy affair. Conmtguity then creates order within that mess, by setting up a ressblemance not based on impressions but empoal order. Ressemblence wil lthen no doubt opeate in that order, producing or or less genralized version of it (although this process wil lbe limited, as I wil ldiscuss below, both externally and internally). The Contguity wil lthen as it becomes viaciopus, in its vacity, splitof ressemblence off from the rest f imagination. Moreover this is all the more complex a process when one rembmers that I many senserressemalnce, which is vivacious in running normally counter to contiguity . It is vivacitous in articulating a splitbetween elements tat are not otherwise unitied. Its vivacity wil ltherefore naurally impose upon, and articulatehte split of congruity. That is widely different times will themselves now come to matter, as their very distiance noow feedbck into the habit: A power habit demands hen (as Flora demands) constancy across diverse space and time. Likewise congruity runs against the trend of resemblance,. The point after all of the contigus is that what is happening what is being linked is different, and different as it is an impression. Aa the congous therefore givies its vivacity, it imposes on resse,mbance a splits: the Ressem,blance knows it is dealing within elements that are different to each other,m even a the ocntguity becomes more intense. Hence a conjunction, a cojioning is absolutely different to a s synthesis. These is no union, not even a union of elements that realte only in being different. There is rather an alliance, where each uses what would normally create dissention in the other element at enrich the whole. A Habit catches up a mind within a loop. The Vivacity and th split it is associated within then become linked to each other. Here, of course Hume says (smiling very kindly at Flora) one needs caution. The Split cleaqrly matters just as much as the iviacity. Fristl;y it is clear that the tense are a creation of this dual process.: The past is the split of different contiguities as held in resemblance. The future then mirropors this situation, it follows the lines of intsifying contiguities, and so splits of from resemblance as only one future of all the others becomes posslbe: Tenses therefore handle a diversty that appears to fly I the face of one of the principles, while supporting the other. At this point Smy intervenes. She says rember, this is no mean thing we talking of here. It is very iomprotant to avoid ontological envy, and pretend to oneself or anyelse that realtied demand soemthign slightly different. If the founding stone of reality lies in impression, that lies in the ivivacious tumbling of experience into a mind, then ths reality, by which elements of the tumble become givien, and givien in such a way as toi increase their overall intensity, itself composed the superstructure of a reality. That is, the point of these construction I that they articulate a relationship between a self occulding impression and the vivacity which it sparks. That is that ocuclsion, the passing of the mind from one things to another, is at once is causality (which alone anticpatesimpressions) articulated (; a at each time one knows soemthign has happened, a difference an occlusion, which has changed everything: And yet also allowed (albeit I a different sense0 to be vivacious and to demand new and richer connection between simple ideas: or perhaps better demanding the same connection itself is even more instistent and lively. Tene is then no accident in the process: it is rather the very space within wic the conjunction is fashioned. At this point Hume again remarks that one neds of course to be aware how each split itself matters. The solits ncontguity, (which relate to a future a present) matter because they clearly instal possibilities into the system. A possibility wil lby its nature inolve a future (which even as it is fgiven necessaqrily includes option ( or at least it should do notes Amy quietly, hence your usuage of custom). It is then contiguities (as the are anctipated) which can or cannot arise, and therefoe both breed possibility, and then express that oucome. Ths move is its of course very complex. The anctipation (which is product of the past, but includes within it the possibility of being a subset of somethoign slightly differet), looks to an occasion, Resemblance give this pccassion n odoubt feels itself split of. It will come once this occasion is over. However the rights of ‘nomal continuiguity’ to re-assert its difference is confoirm. A dofferent oputcome results: Contuigty, it then both postiing a long sequene of inesnte relfection, but also an eception to the rule(as wil leb discussed below, these exception are the delight of the contiguous mind). Reseemblance then responds complexlyIt is clear enough from Hume’s own example of the dye, that resemblance nw links not events that are simply seen as one and the same, but rather successive congruities, all of which are now seen to ressemlbe one another. Hence the continguity of chains of events whch led to one number (rather than another), are all held in the himnd (and thought to ressemble one another (129). There is of coruse a differcne with thewoild chjance of nature, ni that the ressemblence itself is already crowded with other instances. But the point cealry remains the same. Resemblance acts now not linking one event with all its similar ones, but rather in holding out different contiguities, all of which are said, as they are bound up as alternative outcome in a widwer contguitiy to ressemble one another. Hence Hume remark, the spolit, this time in a contiguity itself, is the articulated within ressemalbnce, ad possibility. Although of course he adds, this is only possible because there was an act, and intial move which was contguios and repated. However onecan easily see another split also emrging Hume carried on. Fessembance is clearly not idenity.. Again the exact nature of the resembler will be considered later. But here no doubt Hme agree with deleuz and Levy-struass, only different hings can be said to actively be similar. Each past then, each resemblance is different, and the dreams that are eablsihed between them, will warp the overall expression. In its own way therefore, right at it own heart, ressembance has the abilty to encompass its own split in the same way that congruity does (which always makes itself its own subset or anaomaly). These moves are then articulated within contiguities themselves. Contguities are able, able by their nature to be flexible. One endless jumps lke a monkey from impression to impressiosn. Each change then become resigetred within an organicism for congtigous events. The same habit can then change. So once again a complex conjnction arises, where the actiual splits which are natuve to the vaivacity of contguitiy inspire resselbnce and visaversa. At his point Flora interrupts. There is more here she knows that meets the eye. It is not just tht these elements inlve different tenses; but those tenses themselves involve one in a different abilities to respond to the world. Take for example the case of ressembling contiguities. Flora found that the effect of this combination was to almost impersonalise her pown feelings. Her Love (mostly imagined, as she always accepted) for Arthur, becomes something which she is sure the rest of the world participated within. She sees him, and therefoe knows that he must love someone else- in China or Doiyce’s daughter (hr she is not so very worng). Love therefore, or contiguities are they are ressemlbed within the past, loose their immediatciy. In a sense thy becom oppressive normals, that actually threaten to move beyond the habit (or at leas tdrag the habit into strange thoughts). It is of course then significant she says that only Amy was exempted from this postion. That is Flora did not suyspect Arthuer of wanting to marryi her, and was delighted (if a little fluttered, when the two engaged). But the opposte is also the case she says. Ressemblence, as it leads to congruities drove her onwards. Anything that could be caught up in her old thoughts and hopes, any ressemblence would be enough to get her thinking is particular ways (even using the name Arther, and not Mr Clennam, might do it). If the ressmblance which rested on contiguity was curiously apersnal, then the oiste way aound was horridly, excessivel personalizing. It imosed a sharp division between her and rthur, a division they could not bridge. Her ressembalnce had of course worked a different in him, and inspired hm to fall in love (in the guizeof nobdy) with the fried of his partner daughter. Likewise she adds, this division between the past and the future allows here to undestand something else. She knew of course that she was mermely a part of Arthur’ past. She understood that, an that the effect of being a part of that past was intergral to beinga mermaid. This past was then she sees complex. It involved many strands, many sub habits. She had at once all here past desires; butalso all here live within Mr F, in vovlved enrapped within the single habit. t was hen not to be wondered at, she thinks that she could resolve it into a stead future. How could she? The Future, as she saw it was clearly to be both: Both Arthurs life, andhe relict o mr F. Her bleif thjen led her to mermaid sate. At this point Amy shakes her head. It is jot this simple, and for two futher reasons. Firstly it is clear eough that the combination of ressembance of nd contiguity on the one hand breed ressnblance outside the immediate union. Each habit will then look to a wider circle of habits, and o a still wider circle. Each of these circle will see at once the vivacity of the overall gneralizd habit increased, and yet the power of each specic element wihin that habit decresed. Habits Cingutieis wil lbe arranged then within this widening circle of ressembances. The problem, as she will point oiut in a while, with Flora was that she had developed a manner, a means by which this widening rater than lessening her feeling for Arthur actually instisified them. His being in China, or being in Dioyc and Clennam or being inovled possibliy with another, ionceased the attachment, and this was effectively here problem. Moreove rhte process also works at the other level. Inside every habit (as Hume point out)there are always numerous other habits operating. More than this resemblance itself might well promote or hinder the iedntifiaction of such habits. That is as ressembance waners off, ideas ressembleless or more,other process enrapped withjn the habit become as it were dentified. A Habit therefre is highly composte (and there is no reasosn these composte need to be in a neat order, indeed they almost be defintion cannot be so). These realtion between differet (if realted0 process, will then be subject to examination by contiuguitites within the habi(which exams each of these differences, and buildsup a philosophy of them). To have a habit therefore can, as in Flra’s case be oppressive and disaadvantgeous (opther might well be possible0, but still house within it othe rhabits, which would never have been estabihsed without it, and yet which are useful in their own rights (and could always be even more useful). Hence flora’s habit gave her the perception of a far clevler women: And also here flor interups, the ability to recongise Amy (notlittle Dorrit) whe she met her. The Habit therefre indirectly allows her to undertand hpow and why she make habits (and the correct postino she needs to take in realion to them). Or tpo put it another way, here Amy catches the eye of Hume, n setting out the ast and the future in terms of the articulation of the vivacity aroung the self-occulsion of impression; while allowing that these tense are tehsmelv real, one also needs to allow for th dimension that run counter to them – oir perhaps better, pulls them in surprise direction. The Past does not exist therefore within the mind, wioth at the same time congtuites, which spak only of the present saddling it, and massaging it in differing awys. Likewise, there is clearly a sense ithin whih one can understand all contiguities in terms of ressembences, and therefre to a degree at last as all part of the same basic process, the same basic past. Of coruse one can ( Amy herself would not) But the p[oint is to understad that doing so does nto imply an uniton or a sysnthesis but a conjunction: that is sense that a difference is allowed in one, as it is set to animate the other:; and so allowed without any desperate need to insist of a fixed causal realtion. Flora at this point takes centre (threadbare) stage: That is she says. My problem was always how one remember, how one acted on a habit, on a memor, which was always more than simple, but less that an impression, and distinct from a memory (as it inlved a realtion to th future). This then is your belief. But there is mre to this than this. Firstly one needs t understand that the belief itself bcomes itself its own pleasure. This of course works of numerous levels. Firstly, and most simply, a habit re-stages old passions, but not simply as the same (here I fear Clenam was a little unjust). Fo me at forty to look at him lingering, to pretend that we could evelope, is for me o deal in the shere joy of old passions. I –restage them, turning old pains into themselves new pleasures. Secondly this pleasure is of course linked to control. The joy of a habit is what felt beyond any control, what felt it was utterly outside ould be naturalized within the mind (hence my discussion of Mr: His proposal, and the differece it made havig my father premote the man, originally did make my heartdead, and me the Staute birde – to contrast hurt too much for anything else). And yet, pof course this repetion was always perilous. For Hume says, so well habits do not purely go. Old habits have a nasty way of coming back. If ones habits are being re-staged within a current habit (albeit stippred of their vivacity), te etire system buckls and breaks, if that ivoiacity again grows (which it always can).Thirdly the, arisig from this last point, one needs to repeat the habit, inorer to retain th realtons between its constituted parts: This then matters, because be ensuring this realtonship of parts, ensuring that certain passions are realtd to others, certain memories lead to one anither, one is working out, in a very complex manner intricate relatios between elements of te mind. The problem was though ( and I of course I admit I failed) that one needs these habis not to become too unbalanced I themselves. Pother peoples habit are then always curiously redicluos: of course they are, as they appear utterly meaningless to anyone outside this action. Hence Iseemed to Clennam: At once the eigthteen year old lover and the Releict of mr F. Restaging and denying at the same time (147) Caught as I was in different habits, ho could I have done otherwise. It is also worth noting that Athur’s reaction his feeling that I was both comical and sad, is nothing more than the product of reflected habit across tim (he was under myfather’s gaze after all). I mean to think on oes own memory is fist to be nosteglic (which is why Arthu visited us in the first place); But then to look at those ememroy and both laugh at oneself, and how one wooried needlessly, but also pity ones business. This is of course all well and good when one is outsuide of the hbits stream (or a minute). But I would poit piut here that this does nt stp one then from making further habits ones, ad therefore from really being anything other that this misture of funny and sad to ones latter self… . But fourthly, agood habit actually should be dpoing something else. I mean here that in habit it is not just that one preserves a way of acting, one also uses it defise thoughts quite other to the mermaid habit itself. Clennam notes not only did I have apparently two states, the Mermaid mind, and simple good heartedness : Aryhur noted therefore very early on (as has already been mentioned) thatFlor was worth more than her habits. He taled o their yung love, with a warmth a ‘good tone’ whichsomehow was associated withi this habit in here mind (145). Moreover this good-hearted element in Flora is complexly linked to the habit (she nodds here, but is silent. The point is that On one lelvel Arthur s clearly right the good hearted Flora is sperate from her habits. Shetherefore is quite capable, of acing and feeling as if she were not of the habit itself And yet she clearly cannto sperate out that element from the habit (or cannot do so initially). Arhtur might then wish to support this element wihin her, and offer his frank thanks at her support of my, and yet Flora cannot here the difference, and akes the taks up into her old habit. Therefoe while of itself distinct (and perhaps in a sense predating the habit – it was this good heart that the Young Arthur revolved around before), t, it sll remains the case that the goodness is not iutsef givenwithin thehabit, but somhow emerges acrss it. To the habitual mind therefore this gooness remains elusive. ‘poor lora’ simply cannot therefore turn ont eh goodness, cannto easily find it. However (as already mentioned) the mere facet of that goodness is itself important, is itself a achievment worthy of mention. It is then n this vaien one needs to undrstand Flora’s ecounter with Amy. Flora wipps herself up int the full mermaid state, causing amy to go very pail. Flora immediately rejects that state and becomes simpl good heated, helping Ay recover, and listening to her sensibly and kindly. Amy therefoe, in a way that arhu cannot reches out to what lies within a habit, and yet canntobe otherwise directly reach, and does so after first provking the habit to its maxmim degree (271). There is hen perhaos more to the habit than meets the eye, more to causes than Hu quite allows (hee he startsto look suspicious). Amy explais: What is meant here is that causes as they are raltred to the xternal world (which realtion they appear to demand so very much). The connectio therefore need to be related to a external world which need never be bound by human erceptions. But this does nt mean that once the imression is within the body, andthen being built up, its viviacity delvoped as the mind, those thoughts might not follow some extra rules: there might then be more to causilty that the simple knowledgeof a flow of impressions. I a sense amy adds there must be. The impression, and its simple perceptions, were something (she looks shy a this point – Hem nodds0, and tht soemthign was caught up in causes. Or to put it another way: Cayuses are ultimately based within a flow of vivacities. They impose an order as a means of expressing vivacity; te rpboem is then whtehr there can be other ways to think this orer, or at least other dimesion to it, beyond a strait foowad follow of impression (which would, she adds only be significant t the external world, not perceptions were privelledged…) Flora has kept her postion in centr stage, nd now turns to Hume and says. The first prolem I think is for me at least, was the problem of negatives. It was not as simple as Hume thinks to argue that in the case of a complex habit an imopression merely negavite it. The point of an impression is of course that it is neurtal – that it can cut any and every way. What is the made of it, thes sense that its viviacity comes to matter it then it’s another habit. This fact is then made all the more complex in the case o more intracte habits, they the contguitiy which seeks ressemblences in the world may have many extra dimensions, and aspcts (and will, as it moves deyond a single habit become imprason).Ressmbalnce is therefore easyil up o etablsihin illicit connetion between the contugity iot appears to be describing and other elemnt. Moeover the problem is all the more intracte because contguitiy naturally ossicalitates between part and whole. To Be in Love is hen both the tnie story of Flora and Arther, but also not quite there story, and is the story in others. A Contguitiy thereofe opn itself up then to be a part in another tals, and opening resemblence is more than happy to provide, with the two togther then creating endelssl extra illict connection (is a veriable yrdaulic of truh). Take for example n Flora’s case the issue of love and marriage. Flor clearl sets p her relations with Mr F, as a running commentary upon her earlier ‘affair’ with Artheur. The issue now is about proppsal and love. Where Srthur was never allowed to propose to her at all, Mr Fmakes wuite a habit of it (posoing seven times); Where Arthur and here had been all romance, one gets the impressionFlopra and Mr F were all food! Tehce she is very careful to install Arthur in their relationship, to set herself up as a statue bride; whose marriage is itelf a tesitm,ony to an ea;lry love. Now there is more to this being a staue thn mets the eye. It is of course the case that ressemblanc, ignoring he not is quietly breedng a relationship between her life wih Mr F ad her imagined realtionshi pwith rthur. The two are flowing ito each other, and she is essentially falling in Lov within Srtheur is a different way, as he is now abent. The Not is therefore allowing a new habit, a new compound of Arthuer and Mr F’s to emrgerge. Mr F the poposed, hile arthr never did (and dos so repatedly). Likeise he providesfor her, in a way Arthur could not. Each then of themselves breaks the spell of the other. But also in Flora’s meraid mind, the two no doubt come togther across the not, and breed one perfect husband, who could anddid marry her, and boring stooge of his mother, tht nevner did.The Not is then palced outside of the beilf, o perhaps better it is allowed to split up a belief, and combione elements whih should lie either side of the Not within the same set of beleievings. Flora her Adds This is just what mr F said ‘ if seeg is believing not seeing is believing to, and when you don’t see you may fully believe you are not rembmered’ (505) But, this new belief, based onot seeing (and therefore knowing one has been forgotten) is no simple affair, as ot birings once again the mmories one had had at former times to mind, and creates, albeit illicit links between these memroeis, and what is happening now (memroeis then only interrupted in the NOT. But there is soemthign far more interesting also happening. In a sense Flora has inverted the realtionshp of the ahbit itself. in that realtion, the love (and the marriage) had bee a aprt of the belief itsls in Arthur. His proposal wpould eventual come. When tht bcome possible, the entr relation was flipped over. L:ove was not a subset of Arhtur, bu Arhur a subset of love (this is no doub the sense of Mr F’ magic). The Contguities in effect at thi point flips the entire habit over, and therefoe allows it (in the form o a not0 to be taken up wtn another, quite distinct relationship. But then of course one needs caution even here. This inverstion is clearly highly proviion. There is no reason, if Arthur had been able to realte to it, or allowed it tpo be anything oher than a mermaid, it might not of been poulled out differently, and thereby become part in another distinctive habit. Hence Habits or beliefs so not simply fail, so much as fall in on themselves, and allow in tht falling other ways for themsvles to be invented. Arthur the Lover might be no more: But rthur the ame of love is still pesent, and still haunting in its contrast the realtionsip within mr F. Flora of course then, after mr. F’s death wishes to repeat this move (and one must therefore always takes care within what she calims about that marriage, she is now stiching up the habit she had then, in the wider net of marriage as a whole – including arther and Mr F: Here she is genuinely a mrmiad, and inhabitent of many times). However this perhaos is then at the root of the postive, the goo feeling that Arthur detects lies soewheeif Flora: that the impersonal notion of love, which she quietly is breedoning witin the stories in her life, is perhaps what is able to both delight in Ay;es eventual marriage to Arthuer (as well as recongizing the sense she s more that just Little Dorrit, first). Here then Flora is developing two new connection resolves around her not being able to marry Cleannam. The reason for that ‘Not’ mrmined of course utterly external; Irt was due to an abosltue intervention by Fate in a Go-cart. Its effect then of th habi was to breed within it, a sense that a what was now now contguous (that is marriage, love and Artheur) hoped up a sese in which allother marriag, and loves, ressembles her earlier love for Arthur. The Not isthen as it wee articulated in the articulation of a splitting off of congiuitis, and a setting up of wha had been contguois as a ressemblence within a subset of what had initially been merely a part withinit. Likewise, the fact that these relatios are merely provision: they need not ressmble what actually does happen, creates in a sense the oppsote move. Liikewise if a resemblance is deny (the polyglot love Flro bred for Mt F and rthur) then a element within that love suddenly ovearchs all the dimenson of I, and reached beyond. Hence the Stute bride was no doubt not al lhere was to Flora’s love, and yet when Mr and Arhur has swapped roles, the former by dying the altter by returing, thn the stange resselbance Flora had created are suddlnly moribund, and threlatinship needs (by here endless explaiontion) o be accoiutned for afresh: the Staue bride then reach ut now across an assumed non-ressemblance, which was no dobt not so evident in their marriage. In short Flora faithfully record he shere problems of havnf a mind which runs on habits. The problem is not the idiotic problem that every can be connected to eveything else (to make such a remark is to ignore the power of the vivacity, and murder Amy) . the rpboem is rather tht habit wil lquitely inforce themselves, and circumvent any limtation one puts on them. Here saying No is never enough – and the habit simply falls back, and ten rewrks a way of itself to be givien inspite of that no. Flra adds that it was these no that really made her head spin it was alight fr Hume to argue that ideas of objects themselves should of precluded a habit, by obliging the mind to cut off a previous vivacity and think afresh due to the new dispostion of the mind. This move would itself only be possible if the object already existsed (here she looks very hard at Hume, he turns away slightly).But once that notneeds to be given in the principles, then life is trick. The rpoblms is that habit, and their principles undepinnig them do not have a clealr rpincipel of ‘Not’: Merely to say no is then to open out an assocation, and to brred a monster… All the more so whn a caude I (at a slghtyl diffeent level) based upon a not anyway 9that of posiblity and roder): No wonmder Flora says my head used to spinAll this posting and yet deny, or rather denying, so allowing one to think of soemthign afresh, and as important. All this communication of illict vivacities ( no wonder the Doctor prescribed me brandy, she adds, as an aside, it was only that medcine that allowed me to breed enough illicit vivacity of my on to fight the vivaciousness of all these negative). Not quite so fast Hume sys here. You talk as if I was no totally aware of this. Of course dat ideas can be strengthened ill;icitly- just thnk of most uperticions to see that. ButFlor says here that this was not quite her point, she meant simethign a little different, as the not itself, when taken up by the mechainsim of caused can very easily strengthen a beielf. Hue rpleis that he never claimed to have devleped all principles, merely the most turthfu lone. Th division he then argues that matter is the division between impressions and beliefs. Imagaination migh be as vid as it like for all he carried, but it it did not follow the simple pattern of one of his principoles; that is, if it did not ealte back 9and not through a not) to one of his srinciple then it was not accurate. But Flora has a reply to this. There, she says Hume goes again, he has simply appeald to a world he has clearly at this level at least unpicked – what right has heto such an appeal she wonders Again the issue needs to hango f vivacity; that is on the sense that the self occluding impression animates ideas: this is what he means after all by the truth. Moreover she add, thi negtive is substantive: A perfect screw of a principle: I mean, she says that I am not saying that a spell was not worn on me whenthe two errile ones plucked me from my loves young dream. Arthur in my memory was clerly a different affair to Arthur in reality. The rthur of my marriage was then an arthr in the memory, an Arthur which was engorging itself on the vitals of mr F’s table ( but I guess I was feeling it0, by iabuting in a strange way our very relationship. The Not, of not marrying both changed then everything, in that it deamded the sese the habit was givien included an elsewhere (but the the essece of habit else in this elsewhere. Or probably much better, in making this elsewhere itself matter): Now in our orignal way of thinking this not is given in ressembelnce. Ressenblance tears a contiguity outide of itslf. To Resseble includes also a not therefore (or rather allows for a not – certainly better). It teas a sequcne of impressions beyond its contguitiy, nd sets it p as dkfiffert (its events therefore peculiry lead into each other). To essebmle is therefore, for casuality at lest, to become a yradstic to reality: Reality is now understood as embodying another realtion. My point then is, which I have finally goto, that this is what happened to me with Mr . The Lov for Arthur, the problem of no poposal, or not being able to propose, has eneded the affair of oe, and it inaugured the affair of the offer. It was not then the dreamy lif with Arthur itself that overhung us, so much as the end of it, and what to do about that end. It was this, initially then that as givien within Mr F’s proposal. Hence I instist on him being so different. Proesy, and excellent, although different. This propsal then embodies as it were the problem Arthur left me, the problem that the married seem not to popose. Thisproblem then haunted the marriage not that Mr F carried. Perhaps one might say this hauning was complex, in hat it involved a cealr double exhange in vivacity: One the one hand, there as he simple difference o being married to Mr F. Hislef. This marriage, and the contrat wih Arthur, bought to her mind whjat might have been with Arthur. Rthur therefore never simply fanished from her thoughts(nor could he), whle Mr F carrdie on merely feeding her rather than carrying for her. The End of her affair therefore, created on this leel a splicing of memory and impressions, where bythe impressions feed the memories: leant them their own greater vivacity, and did so because inspite of their difference, th two as em,bodying the sam basic problem; that of Arthr;s failure to marry her. Each sperate eleemtn, then lies tighter in Flora’s mind. But (she carries on), it was also true that Arthur added to my feelig’s to Mr F. In being there, n providing (even if he thought wine weak, and Gout killed him): But then here Artheur enriched what I had. He ,ade he llok o an aprectae more things in memory in Mr. F. I had then in a sense more stories to tell (of glass carriages, and mr F’saunt. Of Calais, and of Gout), because I knew I was a statue bride. The emory, the having to thin ka memor and a reality at once, then enriched our affair. Hence Flora is now arguing somethign slightly different (and one must alwas take care to flpow her totured train of thought here). At firt she claimed that mr F mobilised her Not because he picked outa a aprt of her realtion with Artheur, the Love, or lack o it, thjt was caught up in her fealing for him. But ow she is saying, that as well as this development, a second aspect occued (ad who could easily tell these tow apart), where by the end, the finishing of Arthur, itself created a not (remiscient of the nt that was created, implicitly in ressemblence, by a resemblance). This Not then set up not marrying Arthur as a principle, in which her relation with both her meories with Mr F, and in impressio, and vivacity reality, and with Arthur cold be held togther. An exchange then set up, with the vivacity of mr F in lie, running toards, and feeding the memory: The ememory resonding by openong different ways to apprecite mr F himself. No wonder she called her life with him Dreamy: Dreamy perhaps in the sense that Mrs affetry dreams- the dreams of ressemblence where the mind is aware fporcefully and violently that it is always up gainst element, which even as they seem exactly the same as what went brofre, all the same carriy one violently off to other palces.The Problem was if course that it did not then last. And she was left with the seemingly impossible problem of how to honour exvery party: That is How does one make a habit out of a relict of e memory who joy, who powr actively lay in feedin another memory? Where does one draw the line? There is a complex realtinoship between Flora’s two point here. On the one hnd it was clear a single aspect present in the relationship he had with Mr F, and Athur, unpicks itself, and resonated beeen the two:. Love is then in both, if different: the antue of thi difference is then being empricially examined by Flora. And yet this examining itself occurs in the knowledge that (and consequence of) her relationship with Arthur was over. One eleemnt has then escaped the wreckage of the thought, and yet in doing so, even as that wreckage involves a new thought (the idea of life without Arthur). Love then both contains Arthur as a subset of itself, (even if it was initially contained). But also, at a totally different level, the love occulded, of her realionship wih Atur, that is the fact that it was finished, wil lthen fold back into that element it shared with subsequent relations, and demand tht it is embodies across these realtinos (an embodiement that itself involves a complex cocktail of memory and impression. Is it any wonder Flora asks I got so confused then? Ou would if you had realised that in effect the Not allows a habit to be developed in to ways: On the one hand a habit pulls ou from whatcan be kept whena relationship is pulled apart: It askls what habits can be saved when a complex habit is lost: That is that habits of the mind are still viable, and still useful: it asks this question inpite of te fact that the very asking of this question implied other memories, which realte to the complex habit into which that cause was initially pitched. On theother the act of ending itself, pitches the habit, this time as a finished whole into the minnd, and deis so inspite of the not. it then looks in other realtionsip, into oher relatatips, into which it is pitched somephow ressembling this complex contiguity: nt he first then, Amy adds, one might say ressemblence drive the prcess onwards, and allows certain vivacious idea to esape an habit (albeit by paying it still a debt); while in the other case, a contiguity cuts itself of from the rest of experience, doing so without the aid of rssemblence, but then even as it is cut off, expects to find within subsequent realtinos (and within the memories that animate it), aspects which ressemble it. Habits are therefore profoundly bi-polar. Hue did not draw out this fact, as he remained ficxiated by reality, and wished to have a naturalism to his vivacity, and therefoe only really considered in detail those cases where resemblance and contiguity were, conjoined by causality, and rendered almost indistinguishable from one another: And left te co,pex moves which occur when a realtionsip is proposed, ven though the realtiohip between the two conjoined principles is far from simple, merely o the Vulgar.. Amy is about to say something, here but omnce again Flora (who has not yet surrendered her postion,inerupts her). Moreover the understnding of this neagitve, she says, is all the more diffiult in he case because of the nature of her realtioship with Clennam. This realtionhip was in a sese always based upon the imagination: Cleannam heaped love upon her, as Robinson Crusoe heaped up gold and money but force of habit, and as a valueless value; there relationship then was the meas by which he expressed all his locked up affetion and imaginatio (143). The realtion was then configured around imaginae, and around fantsy itself. It is then this move which Flora herself loved, and devised a mean by which it could be allowed to be a principles almost in its own right.. Fiurstly the realtion was then always allowed to exist withinthe terrible rigour of Mrs Clennam. It resistes in a passive way that rigour, and resiting it in terms of a romance . Arhur’s being forced to go to china essential fitted neatly into the ahbit, as they then lived it. Flora, for whpm this habit had remained important, feels then she can start of were they left of, in the magination of her importance to his life in hina (even though that importance is now negative – she feels in Marrying, and no doubt in gowing fat, it is her, not him who has served the habit). In this regard the fact that when they were split apart, a book Arthur ha a book of her’s (or Romantic love) was singinficant. Flora feels that actually asking for it back was thw worse thing she did (as in ffect the spltting up could be engrossed within th ‘realtionship’ as long as the book remained shared. But also that Artheur could (by th convert means of a red waiver) signify the continuenec eof the romance (in some way- albeit in an impossible victous journey).Perhaps one might say the here that Flora really is breeding a new habit (or a new way to understand a necessary direction within the flow of ivacity – i.e.e a cause). Flora’s imagination might woner as it will, from Arthir’s journey. T her old love for him, the the matter of the book, but whatever she thinks is always bent back to thinking about Arthur. It is as it he has taken over her imagination, an othat to use it, is to remind her of the old romance, and fo him therefore once again to be their infornt ot him. The process counting then as a cause in the sense that there is I the process a necessary order. She attemts to esacpe. She stars soienmwhere else, but sooner or latter, as she follows a gathering vivacity, Arthur appears in her convertaion, and she is again caught. He therefre exists as a lodestone dragging thoughts in a direction, and emanding that everyhitng causes a mmory of him 9as he lies at the base of her imagiation). This basis will then will create endless complication and loops. It is Arthur, and the means by hich their young love which lies at the base of thoughtthoughts, and not the thoughts themsvles. Contary elements are then necessarily a part of this process. Flora can then imagine Artheur married China, or not; Married to her, or realised (the Golden thread undone): She can (and does ) therefore fire off randonm assocaitino, eachassoicated withitheirown chain of imingaining. And bound togther only because each each in 9or somethime start and then end again it) Arthur. This process is then contrasted viuolently with Artheur. For Artheur Flora is an integral par tof the pat, of his past. He does othen forget her, but never confuss her with thepresent. If he repeats then himmemroeis in the prswnt, I ill cealry be ina different form ( he love Pet for th resemblance, and feel a need to meet with Flora after she is bought again to his mind, in assocation with Amy). Flra,is thenfor him a perfectly reflection of his own past: As that past she remains awah with contradiction and complication, and wild apprioateness. For Arthur, although she does not of course realize it, sheforms then an exactly reflectin of his imagination (and the past it is busy creating in himself): it is the past in effet he is imagining, and Flora is the moster of that past . No wonder then he does not know quite how to realte to her! At this piontone probably pays to aanalyse with are the structure of Flora taking. Flora, Dickens remarks ever comes o a full stop, but rather rambles on, with barely a comma for a puse. But iti nt here that she is simply a talker (as Mrs Affery woud have it) But it is not really the irrespressiblity of he jumbling sentences that create the problem in understanding her so much as he fact that each one of he stazes is effectively a story in its own right. Take for example, her acoint of her marriag to me F (as she related in to Amy) -170) ‘ To paint the emotion of that morning when all was marble within, and M F’s aunt followed in a glass coach, which it stands to reasosn must hav been in a shameful repair orit never could have broken down streets form the house and Mr F’ aunt brought back like the fifth of November in a rush bottomed chair I will not attempt, suffice it to say that the hollow fom of breakfast took place in the dining room downstairs, what Papa patook too freely of pickled salmon was ll for weeks, and Mr F and myself ent upon a contenitential tour of Calais where people fought for us on the pier intuil they sperated us though not for ever tat was t yet to be.’ Wjhat matter in this long sinle non-sentencance not is vivavity s mch as the fact that it simply conatins too much information. Lmsot every staza s a short story in its own right. Many stazas then contain other short shories, partially rticuales ( Hence the marriage contains the story of the aunt’s journey, a story that includes the account of her retuns as if she were a guy): the reader (or listener) then lurches from tale to tale, without ever being able to formly resolve one. Hence perhaps one might say, Flora’s speech mebodies micro narravte (all of whih might be complete of themselves, which are then pitched into a sequence whereth refrain is surely ‘and another thing, and another: the flowis then contastly interrupted (and th indvidual flows are certainly more vivid for this interruption. The Punctuation in the stories, is in ansese not provided by full stops or pauses, but rather by the fact that is inevitable (as Arthur lies across her very abilty to imagine) that each sotry ends with an explict or oblique refernce to Arthur. Hence in the quote then Arthurs is at the beiging, and then brakets of the account of the marriage an the Breakfat (which was hollow, its only highlight was the self-poisoning of her father, which the implication that Flora thinks it appririate), and then again in the accound ‘contntital tour’ I which the sepration of Flora and Mr F, by fighting crowds(?) prefigures his subseqentdeath,m and therefore both a sense that Mr F left her (albeit intenstionally after all), and Arthur could come back. The stories might be carelessly nested within each othr (and so lack punctuation) and yet are punctuated, in the sense, by these sense that however tangently the story appear, Arther is also there. Or to take another example, on that Flora more less exoplictly argues that Arthuer and imagination have become caught together. The occasion this time is Arthur’s visit to Flora, in pursiuit of Miss Wade (after a gap of A quarter ofy ear: a time ignored by thre Aunt, ho measues time only by the acutneess sensation, and so greets Arthur’s return with a welcoming ‘ Drat him, if he a8i’t come back’, a sentiment Flora quietly (hor her supports, by saying, in highly sublimated form that Arthur oly visits her when he has another motive Which of course is true enough–504). On this cocassion after a long ramble on the nature of Ialy, inspires in Flora by the fct Amy was traveelingthere, she ends the monlogue by saying ‘ ‘ I run away with an idea and having none to spare, I keep it, alas there wasa time dear Arthur that is to say decidaly not dear nor Arthur neither but you understand me when one bright idea gidled what’s-his-name horizon of et cetera but it is all clouded now at it is all over’ (506). Staring with the end of the remark, she is at once elluding to the fact both that her imgining has come to a full stop, but tha that full stop is somehow liked to Arthur, both because the gilded time is now gone, and bcause she lacks ideas. The last point is of course of face value problematic, as Flora is endlessly full of stories. Her point is of course that the idea jingle about in her mind, and failto resolve themselves unless brcket by the imaginations of Arthur. Here then is a curious sturucte.the Name of Arthe I Flora’;s cannon allows here to juxtaposes individual micronarrative in a perpetual stream of thought, which are then brackets not according to a normal order but hiw they are caught up in a giving of the sinlge imagainations link back to Arthur. Moreove as these links aremade the overall vivacity of the construction increased. Flora will therefore whip herself into a mermaid condtion, as each seeming unlinked story leads into the others. The Backets therefoe establish links between memroies that appear to the listenr to be utterly sperate. The mermaid operating in creating these strange links, in using then to spark new ideas, and these yet others, with the viviacity gradually gorin and gorwing; unti lin her fuill mermaid state Flora actually beliefs . And yet this belief is of itself complex: the ebelif is ot itself seprate from the communication of vivacity itself. it has no fixedvalue. When Amy (or anyone else0 treats her whipping herself up into the full mermaid state as if it iself were a narrative, she immediately recants, and tactily acknowledges that what she said was not altogether true ( 271). The point then for Flora isnever theanrrative itself: ether internally or exernally to her diatribe. Externally, if one draws out her remarks ino a consistent story, then she immediately recauntsWhile eht elements ithn her stoies, the perfect minor stories sh shoots off any old how (and as nested within one one another), matter to her not of themvles, but rather as the give her a ceaselss sequene of ‘And another’ whose elements, though whose very juxtaposintion te effect of having known Arthur is thought. So that the maner Arthur effect her imagination involves the constituion not of ay logical temrporal seuence, butrather the dijionting of mant sequences, which are cited pell mell against each other: Arthur then being mechanism by which each squence is at once juxtapose from the rest, but also how in that pulling out it is also related to the others. This realtion being then understood both in trms of ideas, as all th sequences togthergive the idea of Arthur, or rather are drawn sharply to give different aspects of what it was to knowhim. But also, in accordance with Hume’;s contention that ideas effect an easy transfer of vivacity0 the this idea then enviourates the next sequence of ideas, all the more so as that sequenc eof itself runs likewise back to Arthur. To Think Arthur is therefore to think, for Flora many juxtaposings orseqeunces of though, each of his thought interrupts abruptly, and with no due deference to an more sensible schemata. It is therefoe to render oneself utside indvidual series of thought (the indvidual stories), bu the prior to being a series oneself (Flora therefore rejects the attempt to take her seriously –her poinmt his her stage is threadbare, and the youthful actors are dead…) It then this structure which of itsel arranged indvidual stazas of thought such that the vivacity of each is illictl aungmented by the prior presence of the other, and does so at each such series is bracket off, in reltion to Arthuer,. To whom he all are eventually pointed. It is worth noting here that This effect of Flora vi Ducenks, has two dimension of its own. Frstly, as one reads Fglora long accoubnts in Little Dorrit, one had the strange impression that she reapts herself. And yet is one actually carfully check he stories they are always new. What is reapted is the wrapping of wach such accunt within the wrapper of Arther (or Mr F, whi is then bought into realtion with Arthur). It is then wil each of these series as if there local contiguity was linked up in a ressemablance (the bracketing o, the sens eit leads back to the poinmt Arthur), and then by that resemblance another distinctive contiguity is the created: all the stories they appear a aprt of the same phaze her life, This contiguity them breeds another resemblance, in all the stories appear (as they inolve this same paze) repitous but wthoutactively being so. These secoday repetioins ae thenwhat are taken to be givin the highly complex idea of Arthur (and are in, and through his name therefoe all palced in realtion to one another). Cotguity therefore now leads to a resemblance, which breeds a newcontguitiym, and tht a new ressembance, which finally embodies itself yet another contiguity (which is not given sae in that relation – or better which is givin as ht which makes all these ressembences actively ressemlbe… Hume interrupts at this point. He had listened somewhat politely toFlora’s Diatribe, putting it all down no doubt to the vulgar thoughts of another. And yet, an idea has now occurred to him. An idea that he wisehs o investigate with Amy at least. He Looks at here and says. “ it strkes me that this tieing imagination to anindvidual called Arthurs is problematic, and yt not quite as uninteresting as might be supposed by reasosn at least. The might be a real truth hidden oemwhee in this vulgarity. Here a strange oppostion between myself and Heir Kant somes to my mind. For thi Kant, imagination needed to be thought as a transcednetal force, which synthetically moved beyond tht which I grasped; requiring it to be other than it was. In his final great work he ties this movement to some kind of free accord between this differing facultieis. What he calls understanding, wil lattempt to grasp at a turht presented to I by te imagination, but the imagination wil, in its quickness allude that grasp, an across this excahng an other dimensio wil lemrg, what he calls an idea, which appears a genuine metaphysical; construction, not in the world save as a problem ( here as I wil ldiscuss atter, Kant mirriros my idea that consciousness, as reasosn has it needs o be thought not as the idea of an idea but the probem of a problem). The Beutifiul object will then dispose the mind to think of an order which at one transcends individuality, as a constantly constituted substrate, which is threfoe free from that Kant sees as the rules through which individual conceps are given, nd yet which can only be thoughts in some personal joy. That is, the individualis made to thinks of soemthingn both inside himself, and in others, and is so as it at once neither pertains to what Kant understands as Nature,or freedom, even though its giving is somehow spliced to the ‘conditions’ by which the freedom itself is givien’. The Thought therefore turns ones mind to morality. And yet this move would tself be impossible if there had not been prior to this move an earlier connection between the nture and imagination. Here Mr Kant draws upon one of my key ideas- puropsivenss. H argues that one nees to sperare out two distinct kinds of purpose. On the one hand it migh be possible to understand nature as directly reflecting a divine mind. This I of course showed was impossible (a argument we need to return to in a while). Alternatively (again flowing the use I made of it), one might argue that the union might be produced by a spontaneous harmony (according to what He calls the interests of reason). .However, anthis I think is what matter far more (although I may retrun o the point above), he argues there must be soe other explination for the accord itself. This explaination he argues very carefully needs both to be accorded to a diemensio in nature, and yet not be of it. We will need I fear to go in some deti l into arguments that are nearly incompehenisible, I think to the Asuhtor as muchg as his readers. Th first move he wisehs to make in this regard, is the guratentess us all tat the purposvity he seeks has nothing to do with teleological formal purpose. It is not then created by a God. It appears then he knows my work well enough here. And yet this leads our thinker to suppose that one still needs to talk of a purpose (as I had one of my own creations do so). Thi need arises because one sees within nature much beauty according to what he calls its free formation, a beautity that is independent of any causes (which would then be indepenadnt). Here then he wants to make a complex distinction. On the on hand he wants to preserve the causal nature of the world he feels he has discovered. Or the other, within that cause he wants to posita diemsion whicha llows the mind necessarily to suppose a free accord in its factulties. Hence he builds a free accord of faculity, in free formations of nature (which are what he thinks are so very beautiful). In naturetherefore he argues, sayin the exaple of ice forming from water, a process occurs, wih crystakls forming at a 60 * anglewithin the water, and gradually then expanding out to bind up all the water inthi8sprocess. And yet at the tempature ice forms there if not apparent differene between that water and that ice. The water then that surrounds the ice is fundamentally idenitical to it, save that one is crystal, theother liquid. Hencelothough one might know causaliy that when water reaches a certain point it truns to ice, the process itself, in he turning appears to have a degree of freedom (at this point both ice and water are). The process is then not one of gradual transition. These being a slow change of water to ice, but rather has the two, in his words ‘shooting together’ , ice suddenly erupts within cold water. Hence there is a real freedom here. The rules of dispostion by which flowers or crystals are formed might be fixed, and yet the process which give those dimension will reamin apparently free floating, and internal to the object: apparently without rule (this is another rpoint, as I will explain is akin to what I argue). Hence he arguesone has the freedom to undersand how in naure things can occur within a degree of freedom, and therefore asif they were aethetic in nature. Ths afr, to a degree at least he agree (although I think I cut deeper here); however we will retun to this issue). However at this point the great question occurs o our thinker of where this apparent aetehic purpose originates from., He argues that it is clear thatit cannot arise in the objects thmvles. Te are simply bound up in causal laws, and have no independence form these laws. Mor3eover, the rules by which one establishes this judgement are given not in nature itswlf. Thje accord one sees therefore is in us alone. it is then as if we take a favour out of nature, whih was nevertheless never simply there,; in that in looking at nature, and looking at its appaent free forms we are made to perceptive an inner accord to all ourfaculties. The accord isthen ours, and it is the role of nature merely to oblige us t think it (hence the power of itself is not xternal). This accord then of course matter because all the faculties in harmony operate to produce understanding. Without the harmony therefoe, there could be no ablity to undestand at all. Our Author is then at this point caught up in a strange idea. The accord by which his entire theory turns is ultimately derived not in an empirical impression, but ather in what an empirical process occasions within thought. The External is then at once both a necessary ingreditent and yet a perplexing one. It is then of course possible to develop this last point. The union itself as it is givien in the accor of the faculties is angled towards the external world according to what the author calls the intrest of reasosn. Within then reasosn there may yet lie some profound reasosn why this accord can be supposed, a reasosn which takes one beyond the simple suppostion o it in an act of perceieving.there may well be such. My current point however does not tuj of this point. Rather the way one needs then to understqnd the link between the freedom in nature, and the accord. Here I think my point rests on the idea how ths link is made. It strikes me that underpinning everything, in the freedom supposed in nature there lies an assumption of unity. I mean what does the external orld really offer the internal save the realization that that the freedom implies a move withi a unfied state (the perfect liquid, from which ou authopr perplexing denies individual particules) and toward another state. The freedom is then the freedom within a single entitiy to move from one perfection unto another (hence the idea of shooting perhaps). The Diversity of states, the being ithi one and the other, is then as it were contained within a single determination, withi a sinlge idenity (being water, or being a certain crystaline structure). Is the similar then the case with this Arthur? Now some othrthing I woold have you note about what our author is here saying. We have hee n external physical process, which as I comprehend it in its beauty (and apparent freedom) sets all the facultiues (which which henearly meanrel my porinciples) a jangling. Ea then grasps at the othe, and yet misses. However this jangling is a purely internal affai, and hence what he efes to as subjective: Nbatre really does us a favour at this point therefore. Here then one has a process which on the one hand pertains to the inner sense of time (that is to its transednetnal imagination), as it grasps at a single process (tht is as I represents a contuing change withn itself). This is moreover a process which then underpins all understanding. The concept, theundestandin been drawn off such an accord Undertanding inserting at this point the concept, that it the point is feelis it knows what is contained in that inner sense, and shouts in joy, no doubt, Oh it is that!’ Now then, this is the point Are you so very sure that this is not quite what you mean? Is not the Name arthirwhat you are calling the exchange of differing priciples, which are constantly communicate to eahother, and are thereby bound up in one another, as they are thik on the nature of the ‘whole’ Arthur, that is the while processitself (which they can only thiking in this exchang, by this xcahng). Hence from this postion, Arthur is the name, inreality for the commncation for principles, whichthen only comes about because elsewhere (in an unthought external plac) there exists another Arthur, a process, which akin to a physical process obliges this thiking’ It is then Mmy who replies. Sh says surely Hue knows the answer they will give? Clever as his analysis is, and the difference between Flora’s postin are profound and complex. Foemost amongst these is surely the postion of uniy. In the Kantian system, there is suppoed an external unity, nd an internal diversity: Nowat point it might be thought Flora says this. She does afterall claim that Here story, and Arthurs form a consistent whole. The story of hidden love. And yet I was obiovus to her that his was not the case. Her problem was rather that the external Athur simply lack external homegentiyall togther, and therefore lacks not only a concept (being this love story here) but also the stange communication which predate the concept itsel (a love story….) Likewise the numros Arthus’ spawned within Flora’s mind, amy calims are nto really defined in their communcation, so much as the borrowing (or even theft) from each other. Ths is then not a simple process. Mr’s F, as the staute bride rwrote, in a degree the script of Young love, upping its overall pathos, nd making it now into an alternative dimension in which hr relationship with mr F could be justified (in its comfort), and yet derided. In this process, no doubt the younger Love’s dream responded in kind. Rewiting the pathos and aborted nature of her own love (always there, as thatl lov always dreamed). A re-write which neithertook up the elements of the suceeding lover, nor communicate directly to it, but rather resonded to the fact that the other was , by a complex reworking of its own nature. Arthur was then no name to be fixed in a process, but, was rather, in this degree at least a name for illict feedbacks between elements that reamin curiously separate from each other (and whose communication cannot then be direct). Amy adds thjat ths was of course her own mistake., She initially mistook Flora’s story for a cogent tal, which could be gathered witin a singl belief: Although of course Amy added she never did quite belief it. Hume preleis. ‘ Tpou then rejet this reading because you think it assumes inner sense runs as a process, forwards (even though that process itself is marked only in the unutterable differences between faculties). You argue then that a habit, as it is caught in a very certain past, actually modifies that past more directl than merely the following of of time. And this fact does not fit in within communication. Is this so?’ Amy nodd and answer. Hume continues’ Now it stries me there are two reasons why on might argue you postion here, and it will take soemtime to find out which. Let me baldly state the wo reasons firt however,. On the one hand it might be because impressions (and simpl ideas) are fundamentally neutral in the tepmporality: theycan hen only very imperfecty be held within any imte. On the other one might want time itself to have a greater part n the process ( I see mereit in both, for I repatedly signalled time’s oddity, and yet both of us know that postion, if I have to choose) I would make. But tlet us se if it is the same to you. “ lt me raise another possibility, here still fallinh our sagious Author. He devlopes an alternative on one of m postions. You know that fundamentally, in thinking an impressions, as the touchstone to existence, I suppose a dimension which ultimately is shared within humanity. Here one needs caution, of course it is the case that, for physical reason, you and I might see the sahde differently, or because of the machination of resemblance and contiguity,we might label shades differently, and yet if all shades were placed side by side, we would both agee htthe shade infornt of us was the same one. The poin is that the external world, and thn also the vivacity it lends us, and the simple ideas we hav of it are shared; as is more importantly the fact that I am located within whatever I recive from these sources. Fgor me therefore any pretence at individuality is firmly internal to the impressions and ideas which spawn it. Howevr our author here as a different viewpoint. He argues that the mind, as it is caught within the exachnge between faculties in thinking the beautiful object (an exchange which sees imagination, that is inner sense our eveole everything that it is givien I understanding, that is all simple attempts to ontain it) is itself sharable between different indvidiauls. Each thought will then only be a aprt in my consciousness, as I can also share it with others). What then is pecualirly mine, that is my abilty to draw set up exachnges between facualties in my mind, is up to the point this communication is drawn off into conceps activiely shared. Hence before the concept, before understanding is awakened to judge, then mind is shared,. And my and your tase are theorectically one and the same. Hence, if you like the contintuity of a process, lends to us not only an idea of difference (that is of soemthign which passess across the facutlues) but also an idea that this difference is, amngst creatures of the same type at least, shared, and shared until the moement the concept is drawn. Is this not then what you mean?’ Amy, who looks tuobls, almost tempted to say soemthign or agree to something here, replies very slowly. She argues that what really matter here is exactly what is being shared. What is shared here is the very communicaion itself (which one demands another is also doeoing), and not what she thought was shared, which was always the impression, and the vivacities it inspired. Moreover because one is tied t oarguing that buty alone is worthwhile sharing, one needs to place a somewhat artifical divide into the world. That is, one has to argue that all the vulgar dimension, which fir Amy are the norm of such shaing are somehow suspect. One cannot therefore legitamtely shre passipns (which amy says does not seem right to her, as for her nothing is shared more often); Morevoer she adds, it seems also to her, thjat the majority of what is shared is not every formally spoken or thought. In every perception, she and Hume know, she says there is simply o very much going on (and so very many ohe rlittle habits). Now these are directly shared by individuals, long befoe they hve drwn the mind of in direction of conceptps, and yet are cearly shared either directly within impression (or an a dimenaion of what elese the same impressions can also be saying), and to demnd then that what can be shared is only the cross fertilizing of understaning and imagination, where the latter permently out moves the formr, seems to Amy to miss all these extra iemnsions to sharing. Moreover she adds she is not eally ahppy with the postion of nature in this explinatino. It seems, to her tht nature is necessarily almost excluded in this process 9or at least one realtin to it is fixed) inorder for it tobegin. Human’s therefoe need to to fix a certain kind of commonsense (the idea perplexly amy, surely she wonders common sense ought o be common- what is meant then here is not common sense so mucha sense in common, but that is another issue). Nature is then quietly excluded, and humns behave (as befits society, she adds as an aside to Flora), according to their established rules, and in the safe knowledge that the natural need not come near them. For Amy the oppsote needs really to be allowed. She says, she means by this that what is actually common is not so much Human communication(that is a communication amongst the principles) but rather the direct problems posed by a ‘real’ world, which exists in impressions, which are then communicated to the mind as simple ideas and vivacity. Huemans therefore share not this state frozen off form nature (understood as a free well behaved process) but rather in the very taking p into themselves of a diemension, a vivacity, that is at once vividly before them, in the seeing of the worl, nd yet not so very easy to hink in the mind itself. Flora now adds an extra dimenion of her own. That point of me and Arthus was never, asAmy sos just now, about him lying simply fixed infront of me. Arthur never fixed then any well behaved pocess, for my mind to follow (however cretively it sought to do that).. Qutie the contary the very noion of Arthur sent my mind a scurrying between differentsebse I gasped at him, differing grasping by which he might be givien. The pitching then into theoutside was real, It smashed any simple hope I had that there might be an Arthur in my mind (or simply in reality). There was nt. All I had was nurmeoris intermeshed, and yet fundamentally uncommunciatable (well safe by felching) apcts, allof whicwere coantined within the single idea, o athur. “Hume the answers, hoping he mightbe accurately summing p the postion of the figures infornt, saying’ So oboth of you, it seems tome the problem lie in the oddity of ommunication. Commnication, is an event in duration: One only communicates as ifferent elements interlae though time, each modifying the others. Both of you then s far accept my own argument that mmunication seen from thispersepctive makes little sense. There are of course fluxed, and change (what lese is vivacity0, and yet one needs to start not in these fluxes, butinthe dimension which is active in their contraction; namely the impression (which gives itself a vivid and complete. However beforewe move to tackle athe other aspect of ou uthors thoughts, perhaos Iought to point out to you May, that we will need to account for the fact th mind indewells (as it were across impressions) I and you accept an impression, s it is a whole will be finished, and yet then pose a problem in being also a simple idea (and therefore a capacity to be repeated), but also, as it is that idea having a certain vivacity (and therefore a demand that things follow). We will then need to look very crafell ho the later to point intermeshed within the former, the sense tobe complete. It is only once this move is made, will it then be at all possible to demonstrte with confidence that our Authors’’ jump to commuication as apriori truth is not actively awright, and we all awrong. That I, we need to eplain te curious inversin, which for us appears the secret in time, wher eit utliamte underlying parts, can only be thought of as a whole in thesmevles (and I there very wholeness they of course cause time), and yet, which in that wholes, set every (in the form of vivacity and simple ideas) as a part,; and yet of course, a part which almost ioncomprehensibly contains the wholes within it.. Te Need therefoe to account for how their completeness renders everything whch follows on incomplete in itself. Unless we can make this move, we will alwas be vulnerable not to the I thnk (for no-one who failry considers the matter will accede to that idea I think, opnce they understand how impressions and their vivacities operate), but at last ot th rigours of duration (whichattmept to graps at this communicability of itself0. But all that but await other discussisons I think. But for now let he develop theposing way of thinmking of our Author. He argues also that there is another dimension to the feelings our atyuhor want to account for. He argues thatat certin times, an communiction be estabslihd not in codbut dicord. Thisoccurs, he suggests when the very mental process, though hich omprehension are riven, become unstoppartable, and so cannot hold any impression within th mind. Atthese times, he thinks another concption, akin to absract reasosn itself breaks through. In looking at soemthign very vasrt or something very powerful, he argues it is as if owns abilty to communicate the vivacity of ones impressionstoones ideas is torn asunder, The impressions, (nd the imaginative grasps by which they appear in the mind0 are then givien, and yet the mind remains still unble to draw this world of giviens into coherent ideas b which they might be comprehended. At such times, he suggests it becomes impossible for the mind to to resolve in the form f understanding what is before it. Here it is worth noting ou Author is clearly modifying my own postion. From his perspective, my argument as to the nature of impressions was based upon the idea that there nedded to be a smallest pinch in reality, a point that existence tumbled into the mind (no matter whether to division was ‘real’ in itself, and perptained to the univese itself0. Our Auhor has hen done away with this idea (and let us play hat one can for the moement). He hrefore wants to contend that the units by which one reckons up perception are themselves sgivien within undrstanding, and that the snatch by which I grap at the worl (or in his language apprehend the impressions) cotans no natural division. The ublime hen breaks though at the point tht one understanding (by which one reckons up the units of thought) becomes unable to comprehend what is before it (that is it becomes quite unable to give I a unit of itsown). At such a timehe suggestsit is as if comprehensin were puilled asunder. It the gp beween the two, soemhign other, something, if you will excuse the paradox, beyond sense, supra-senisble emeges, and th mind feels itself caught up in a power beyond he natual world. Tahtis, in termsof our own explications, the moement thi subliome enters ion, thn impressions becomes resolve around it alone. They become thenquite incaplbe of communicating their viviacities to one another. They are caught p in soemthign too great, something beyond themselves. Compehensionis then torn asunder, and pitched as it wer aginst itself. Is this then Arthur – an idea which breaks up thesoul of Flora, such that she cannot ever directly comprehend it, but can rather only give it in pitching and repitching of thought? Amy dos not answer she went white at the idea of the suspension of vivacity itself. It is Flora who responds. “ No, this will not do., I did not what to marry fate in a go-cart, qite the reverse actually. I eman your point here is too big. One has gone from having something abiltuely external (and meely implicated in the endless chiff-chaff of communication) to soemthign to internal. Ms. Clennam was nt like that. Arthur and me were always not thimoing her (even I she was also there). I eman (Floa is clearly very shocked here),what you are sayin is as fi Mr Medeland his Bank, or ather is lack of bank were the reality because it set socity amoving amnognst titself. The was Habits wok is otherwise. A habit does nt simply dash itself to pieces by making soemthign outside.No rather it works controiwoise, if you see what I mean, I Mean it is toan eruption of the external, in the middle of what is (even love’s innoncence was not that), but rather the way of thinking. Of dealing with the external after its erption has occurred. Nor in tyhis dealing is it meely a matter of exlsuon. I Di not then run away from from Mrs Clennam (or did not do it simply), shouting ‘oh help’ (however muich I might have wanted to I did not do this). The problem is not that, but rather then moe spohisticiatd problem ‘; givien that there is a beyond, imn which thing happen, what remains for me as real? That is how and what do my habits tell me of this reality, of this oputside, rom which I am always strangely borrowing. It was never then simply pitched in the rendering idea” Hue, itnerupts: Not Flora this is no defince. The point of you Arthur was that he was pitched across idoifferences hichcould not be reconcilled, and was pitched by Mrs Clennam. I accpt that the idea of Arthur itself diod soemthjoing slightly different. It was more or simply different that the pitching itself. It was therefoe already always attemoting tomove beyond the simple being pitch. It established other communicatons. And yet the point still remains that this idea is ultimately own pitched in this manner because soemthign external (utlaimte Arthr’s hidden fate) has broken in, and torn him from you. Allt your reckoning is thn se at nough.’ Amy still lookin ple interrupts here. Ashe says that hume has missed the important poijt Flor made. Tah tHume’s authors appears to ant to straddle her reality beween two options. In the one option he needs to hypohsize the existence of an external process which however only effect the miond though what the mind itself already is. The therefore assumes that vivacity is simply mine (and always mine), and that theexternal world only matter as its processes make make experience that. He how offers the alternative viewpoint where now vivacity is plled away form its own powers to coummincate and something else, akin to a little death enters in 9which is why Flroa I hink minds the aguement so very much). Amy thn looks oddly irratited, but seems to want to say n omore Flora again intercedes. She says ‘ rembmer Amy on St Bernard’s pass.It has only Mrs Genral nd Blandois who enjoyed themlves, for only they had the beefy self-confidence which appears to me so very necessary for your authors sublmity. Tah tis, it is only them, fom their secure identitie and well fed gernalities ho had the confidence to look out at the rocks (o to look out at poverty) was soemhign that does nto effect them. They therefore had th condifecne to suspend he transfer of thoughts, that it appears your thinkers sublimity demands: amy, you lacks the abilty to sspend her own thoughs intoder to attain this sublime state saw it otherwise.” “ How could I do otherwise, Amy co,esin at this point:’ That is how ould I do otherwise. This sublimity of which you author speaks ultimate;ly allows it partaker the luxury of re-asserting thesmevles as a part of soemthign far greater than the world they see. They see there own power then in the danger and suffering of others. Altenatively when they lookedat sharp capgs, they thought not of danger, but rather emrely of that the greatness of their minds soehow out did the greatness of nature (and did so by encompassing the death of that natre, that is the point beyond which that nature could not be allowed to think of itself). And yet this is surewlyjust pretence. They are like ou can in a cage hanging of a wall, except they are how self-indulgenty rejoicing in their safety, and then pretending the fact that their viacities are suspended itself gives them access to a greater meanin than the vulgar could ever had. Real vivacity as it operates in these condtions os of course far to obusy merely getting on within its life. Hence the division,the uspension of viacity, in the sublime, the feelings which pitch it against itself is itself the falsest of splits. The indvidual partaking of it inserts a divide 95his is the real death of the sould I think) between thesmevles and the wold. They then arrange a vivacity of either sid, and pretend across the casme they hav created within thesmvles soemthign great is coccuring. Tbis is suely th world of Blandios, of Gowan, people be blindly conmdifendt ni heir own power that they picth it against the world, or rather in the course of their own suprasensible nature, demand the orld be made to conform to them. The worst of hoorrs is then strangely mitaigtae by such coards imagination (war, by the ulkes becomes Sublime, an oxymoron, as war surel involves the suspsensino of such rules; Or mkluntains become removed from the cold and the stone, at leas for the complacewnt watcher elsewhere). Yth actuall communication then of vivacity is simply lost (or rather made to resonat awrong), and that deleibertate construction allowd to be the truth’ Hume is amaed. He hd not pected quite such an outburst pehas from such a tlittle frame., All the concentrate fury of her remarks have ledhis a little taken back. He is very measured in his reply. “ thinks I see your point. You know doubt whoc argue, like another a lktte after my time, that the great issues of the world are often portayed better in the smaller inidents thn the larger one’ Amy replies that it wold seem to her likely, but she does not know. All that she does know is that fear or horror by themsvles are not productive of the anything beyond, if that beyond means Man needs to place himself in between. Amy adds here, that she doubts tht the thoughts inpred within this beuty were really moral anyway. She suppects, from the little she knows on te subject, tat the feeling of morality they inspire is empty and vapid. Take again her own example. She could of course see that the tower of Pisa was beautiful, and seemed so young and free,and yet that did not stop of one instant therebeing hooros in the world, or the Marsalsea actually existing. It inspired no one to be moral therefore, it merely alleviated there specific consciousness at the time. I very beauty, I seemed to her at the time (523) reflected then not on morality of things so much as their heartlessness (including frist the hearlessness of men. Likewise with the mounain passes, she again could see there spendopur, and yet for all that spendour, their reality, their sublimity seemed so much less real than the world she left, the vivid world of useful action. They were not then, for her, not the point that ag greater morality erupted within the soul, so much as the point of supreme confusion, where the soul quitened its own problems, and doubts in looking out upon a terror: Her father, could then in their sight, feel himself at peace. At yet she coud seedifferent. She knew the very need to see such sights and esacpe as it were into the hearlessness of nature, was itself merely an attempt at a remedy to esacpe the hearlessness of man, which for her at least was always the more real of the two (445). Hume smiles rather warmly here. Flor looking into his face gets the impression he too has had this thought before. Amy however carries one. Perha[s, she saysshe wasmistaken here. Clennam always thought that her own sign of the prison wall lay in wondering whther it was right that her father should have to pay the debt he owned the Circumlocuatio office both with the years of his life, and with money: As so that he was doubly punished for a single trangression (398). Hence she had in that wonder, last sight of the wold beyond the prison itself, and was rather extending its rights and dutie (the deby of years her father had paind) into the other. Likewise in looking and thinking of the prison here, she was not seeing what was, so much as letting that existence cast a far longer shadow over her mind (She amy again shudders slighty, as a new sequence of thoughts come into her mind). She adds then then is perhaps always the way with such thoughts. What you see is a matter of persective. The Sight of Pisa, in others would be the sight that would, perhaos lift them outside themsvles, and remind themof a larger greaterworld. For her, she then add that larger world actually was the Marshalsea itself. It Became then merely a commentary of the other, and was so lost (much to everyone lesels irriation).and yet she hen adds, she would prefer this, to the other effects of arti. She says, she m,eans, (thinking here of Gowan) that she has noticed this abilty to lift a person out of the conext they are in, will (it it is too simply mistaken for a pirinciple), lea to ruin.That is, she adds, it is so easy to shift from this postion into one of moral realtivism, wherew a one distors or looses sight of the bad, w or the good, as oen moves away to towards it. Humes interrupts here’ Surely he asks ‘ human sympathy will be enough to make up for this compliant? As I look afar, I would relate to thegood in its sympathateically, and deny the bad for the same reason.’ Amy looks very unconvinced here. She starts up. Saying that she thinks this is rather complex. The problem is always to ensure the sight of the symthatic. That is, she says, in her experience the most symptahtic of peop[le are open hearted.Symnptahy is, she add, founded on the very gap between the causes of passions, and effects (here Hume smiles, he knows she is paraphrasing his own writings). Amy notes this, but then adds, that she thinks they will really need a detiled discussion of this latter. However for how she thinks she is ot at all happy with any too simple move The most sympathetic person she ever met, she adds, was accompanied by an Artisits who turned moral realtivism into a principle (something her sympathetic friend never saw, even if she had to faint to miss it), and an bounder, who inserted his idenity before it was ever called for, and yet did so without ever quite excitoing the appriobium she knows Hume thought such an insterion always risked. It was then as it conceint, and the excessive pride in ones own identity were able at time to take over the powers of ymotahy itself, and make one see not one ought to see. Howver she suggests they wait to have this discussion mch latter, for it has little or nothing to do with Flora. Hume clearly wonders whether he ought to ignore the final remark here, and question here further. However he does not. instead he replies ’Perhaps at least you may prefer my own theory of beauty and the sublime here,. For you mut admit for suster is not entiurely wrong. The world of art does matter somewhat., eve though udo not need it. Would you perhaos consider then art to produvde as it were a lcus for the construction of itdeas Akin to Arthur. I mean (Hume sees Amy looks confused here) it appeared to me the case, that art needs to be allowed this importance, it ensures the mind is well stocked with stragems, and thoughts, enaling it to freely articulate hose impressions it has. Take the example iI given of trajedy. It makes no sense to argues as others did that the trajic is merely enjoyable because ti waters down thepasisons. On the contrary by giving the mind elements to think which are contradictory or at odds, ( a young many imprisoned, a tale of sorrow and woe), the mind exolores the world from many conflicting angles, and in many diveitng aspects.the mind then becomes able to move beyond its own persepctiove (and so it own partiucalr thoughts and feelings), and directly allow the same peron with exact stratagems and ideas by which th world might be grasped. Hence Flora’s mermaid mind allows her to remain at once in Love (nd so keep all hr young hope alive) and yet also to grow and change, and beomce Mr F, the women who survived heart break, and his relict, the women who wanted to urn her love to good effect (and could therefore allow her to look ater you). I then the task of thehistrian is to arrgane a naratve ofevents, and so allow the mind see how one ran from caus to effect, then the task of the poet is toallow the mind ext aspects by which thoughts that might not have been allowed to uit, can arise.’ It is Flora who looks amzed here (she awlays had a wider library) ‘ The trouble with this one Mr Hume is that it does not always help, or at least not as you man it. I accept that it does the mind good thinking wthin the literature of other times.But then I widely rea romances (how did you know). And The romance, like robinson Cursoe was alwaysa aprt in what Arthur and Me had. The rub is though whther ti helped or not’. Amy interupts. She has been thinking cefully. She certainly never meant to sound as if shecondemend art. That was never the problem fo here. It was rather that there was any real truth in suffering (any more that is wealth), or any combination of the two, that she could not accept. She says then that she sees Hume’s point, and if by art what is allowed is theabilty to le th mind think itself into other situations freely (and therefore experience the realit of impressions). However she would need then to add two caveats. Firstly it would seem to her just as like;y that these connections, in becoming ajoy in heir own ight, do not enhance once abilty to feel, but are rather treated as experiences in theirwn right (and thereby blnd one to the actualities of what if occuring). Secondly, Hume’s explanation does at least explain to her why it was that she always aw her Friends in the art in he beauty she saw. Hume was now arguing that art allowed one to expand the realities in ones mind: that is it allowed on to extend one capacities for vivacity. Amy needs no such expantion. On the contrary she naturally perceives only that which is most vivacious in her the world (by whci both Flora and Hume understood Amy meant the fact that her entire family had merely escaped from one prision to another (in its way even worse) imprisonment). Moreover, Amyadds that as se hinks futher on it, she would also have to add the provison that this multplizing element (if I were real), could never ‘ Hume finisheds the sentences for her. ‘ So long as it is not confused with anything akin to power or some external agent, who robs you of you power’ Amy nodds. But then would havce Hume rembmer it was also Flora’s power. For Flora’s nobility can not in the fact that Mrs Cennam erupted across there life, an pitched it this way or that,. But rather in onolved her creation of the notion of Arthur that then attempt to allow a iverting life witn the pitching. The pain of itself was to the positive (and the postive itself emrged between the separated elements’ “ Within Amy herself’ butts in Flora here. Hume says I have one las toptino to try you with, before, I hope at least he canturn to slightly more congential topics. One last option I clearly possible,. One coulkd takeboth aspects of the previous manner of hinking, and conjoin hem. The Sdublime, as it pulls the mind apart, might be allowed them tobe that strange cntimum, or thinking (whith our author had argues was based upon an idea anyway ae one and the same). Hence in terms of Arthur, Arthur would then exist in being a disputive elemen,t; that is the element one canno quite comprehend within the mind. The element which demands one moves from state to state, without any hope of reconcillation o any desire o do so.” This time Flora answer. “ No. It would make him right. I am sure it would. He wold betheiin his douible gaze, and whirling fingures, and the wold would be shattered by his power (She steadies herself here, seeing their looks of icopmrehesion). I am mean she adds my father. If one follows this course, then the refletion of my girlhood an the reflection of my mrriage and my widowhood woudlnot only o-exist, but I boorowing from ach othe,in confusing eah other, be accurately prtraing what my father always thought real: A world configured in paying alone; morevover wouold what a learnt not also be lost?’ Amy adds, that she actually, unlike Flora sees the power in what Hume suggests, and yet it was not a world she ciould live it anymore than she could inhabit socity. She adds he problem would be that vivacity by which she operates (which operates in requiring others to b different) would, she thinks be indescrnible form and intensity (which carried its own differing principle’ Boh hume and Flora look a little lost here. My tiure aagain. Intesnisty she say if it involves the marriage f the sulime and the communicated taste, would have what communicated itself bing alys absolutely different. Each faculties (or principle) couid then only take up what was given it in the other through endlessly differing to it: the inteise which no doubt arrganes itself across suh differing, will then differ from itself. At each point it is marked because what it I, or even how it is communicated would be other than it was (as the sublime was always othering itself, orbetter breaking in on itself). The problem then with this is that it simply misses her natue. Her power lies in the ability to crate vivacities, iffering across elements whicha r necessarily other to that which differs them. The point then lies in the lively nature of this being other. It the sense that is must create falsities andtruths. Merely then to educe this to a process of perpetual ontological change is for her o miss this diemsion. Flora, who ha no cearly nderstood the point, suddenly ralized one thing about it at last.’ She says “ Sanyway to argue this way I clearly to make quite another mistake,. The Aunt would , whose sense lis in uxtaposing the prosent, in demanding a resoise which it totallty different,would then be confused forever withm Amy. How could one ever really tell them apart? And that is no good. Th point about the wisdom of the aunt is that shereally does allow things o chage once and for all. Ou understand then the world I totally beyond yourself. ‘ Amy buts in, maybe that is it. For us here, perception itself implies a realtion to a beyond which is different fro the eprceptiopn (hich is what a vivacity must be). The distintion then between vivacity and self-posting is lost in a single sysem,Somethign Amy does not countaence! F the realtion to the negative, and the problem of what it was itbrred a negatrive belief, tore a belief out from a particular context, and forced it (or its parts) torepose thesmevles by the very light of that negatuve (which they turn into an implict strength). Then the problem of imagination pulls greatly expands this re-giving.The Name of Arthur becomes something that which cannot be simply escaped. It becomes rather linked to the very ability of having idea themselves. In such a case I sense any and every impession can strengthen its giving. Vicaity therefore acquires a direction which strictly speaking is not simply temporal (that is is not the simple work ofa flow of impressions), but rather operates to articulate different elements of temporalitywithin one another, in increasingly complex manners: the result, to the external observor is no doubt hat the entire picture ressembles a flow which appear cuiously misdirectled and problematic (or evenmad –a meraid state): However to Floa herself the point is the puctuation, (or lack of it), and is the brackeing, as it across all these and anothers, the idea of Arthuris givien (and the vivacity I givies grows); Which she say, here turning back to look at Hume was always the pointof ypour writings on causality. However Flora is still rather anxous, even through her pride. She knows there is soemthign more to say here. In particular she does ntowantto e credited either too quckly with a creation that is even more complex than shethinks is being allowed for so fa. THA is she wants also toexpalin the natureof theseries of And thesmevls. But beyond that she also very firmly never wants to take credit form what she feels is Amy’s due: that is the the natue (and power) of vivacity. Hume then. Who was a lttle taken back by Amy’s refusal to dondmen the position he had avoated to her quite as vermently has he thought she might, now finds himself attacking it, perahps to complensate.. He say ‘ I find myself wondering anew when I think about this successor of mine, whther here, as elsewhere he has not got my own work infornt of him, and is not point after point attemting to sythesize what I had deliberately lft apart. I eman of this point I put forward two arguments as to the nature of a supposed realtion (for morality (as it would needs be define by reasons). Such a realtion would then need to resonte between the external and the internal; and would come understain when one attempted to make the idea univisal in its inpack. Mality is then simply not true for Man and monkey, what is condemned in one is allowed in the other ( Tr467-469). Tis auhor then attempts to flagrantly iunite these two point, by arguing effectly that runs between the external and internal world is the spra-sensible world of ideas; and that moreover these ideas are pecualirly human in their nature, as the order that is givien to thworld is ultimately itself of human origians. Humans are therefore very truly the lynch pin of the the world, as long as they are considered in their supra-sensible dimension. Hence he wihes to avoid my critique. For in regard to the second of these point, I clearly argue that morality cannot have its roots in reasosn because all moral principles are specific top the species that concots them, and are theefore related to their feelings, and not to some great code. What is moral in an animal or a shrub is conedmend in a man (and visa versa). I of course argued this on the grounds that the feelings in these cases were different. This Author, wil lthen attempt to answer this charge by (as youvery asutely noticed in the case of the subliome0) answers this problem by not only ensuring that Man, that abstract element is asserted inbetween the external and internal world,. But that he is done so, ina highly stylised form. Hence you argued that the sublime demanded a viewer who was only abl to feel there own power if they were safey rapped up in warm blankets. Simaialr this ‘ decder’ of the fates o man, can only revel in his own power, can only insert himself betwixt the inertnala and exernal world, because he thinks himself capable of desiring without feeling, and the no doubt proud posser of an immeduiate humanity, which needs no further explanation. It is just there! For me, of course by contrast that was always the problem. I am then surprised you did not devlope this argument yourself” Hume adds. Amy repliestat she certainly accepts it. Although she feels she wants to make it very clear that it consequence for her is a little different.Firstly linke Hue she accepts that this humanity is constricuted initially from certain feeleing (and cannot therefore he inserted, and is not abstract).And yet she insists those feelings are less a matter of pride (or even she almost wishpers, of formal sympathy), so much as a very unformal empathy, that for whatever reasosn finds Humans very unable to simply own feelings (anothers feels she wispers to Flora always double up iside what one is is complex ways. Hume asks, “ It this not idenitifcal to sympathy? He does nto wait for a reply however (although he does catch amy’s slight shake of her head0.But carried on / Moreover the last ehorems I raised with you are clearly wrong from another quite different perspective. It represents of course an attempt, muchas morality does to think an unthinkable imension which necessarily wuld see itself pitched between the internal and external worlds. Wh yare you not simply condemning this move as impossible?’ Amy is answers very immediately, that she did not make this move because she alwys felt that Hue did not simply make tht move. On the contrary he suggests he produces endless strategieis for thinking just this terriority. Takefor example the principle of promises (or debts as Amy says they are for her). A promise ofa deb is by its nature suspended; Or agaibn Govenrment (circumlocuation) or agan possiession (society). In all these case the issue was to set up a dimension between inside and outside.’ ‘ Butt’ injets Hume’ in all these cases the point lay in the fact hat this was based on feeling’ Amy now moves slowly. Possibly she says. The trouble here is surely telling between three possibility. On the one hand there is the move Hume condemns in is successor. The move that will pitch an alterity inbetween the external and internal owlrd. This alterity I then thought, or Hume would say, merely supposed to be a dimension of its own, and thouight made to conform to this dimension. There however a second move (which she takes to be Hume’s, or at las t partially Hume;’s here). This move attempot to conjoin a feeling to the divide between the interla and external. It is then the feels role to operate to take thoughts which were on the inside (ideas) and treat them as if they were external impressions (and to be wright to do so). Hume appears then, to her at least, in part to accept the need tocros the division. Amy then says her own strategy is she thinks different here. Under flora tutelage, she is now preparte to accept that there needs tobe a world far beyond little Amy. The owlr d f society, in which things merewly happen. And yet that is not the world of the alternity she dals with. That revolves around viviacity, which she says is strange enough for her purposes. She then feels perception is itself caught up in a difference (although not the different of Klant or even necessarily Hume), but a ifference nonethlsss. Hume at this point smiles somewhat. But then asked Amy to consider another pojut made elsewhere by their Author. This Author , he said, claimed that Hume’s objection to a supreme understanding was groundless because the alternation was simply impossible. Or more particularly, the problem of whether a things can be said to have a purpose or not itself rests upon how that purpose is understood. The claim being that if that purpose is merely an assumption made in the understanding, as it draws disperate movements into a concept, then that is one thing (and for that Author a thing which is perfectly understandable); The only choice he then offers thought is argue that there is but one substance, a move which he correctly enough argues assumes the unity, and then cannot articulate into the individual modes into which it falls (as accident).: “ do do you say,’ Huem said turniong and looking very carefully at Amy’ This seems the case or not” Amy thinks a long time, looking off into the distiance as she dopes. Flora sares uncomprehending. Slowly then Amy ansers. She says she thinks things are rather more difficult. Firslty Dshe admits tyat she is lost in this terminology, but says that she will assume thatby understaning their Author means the abilty to draw togther elemenes of the mind intoa certain present reality (hume Ndd somekind of assent). And that his unstanding, whther it involves a dog, some money or even the Mashalsea itself, is then in this remark related to some kind of overarching causaility. Hence the Marshalsea itself is bu a sea of moves, and only becomes the prision fropm a purpose within. ( Again Hume nodds). Then Amy adds, she is not sure about th charateizatino of the alternatie, as she might just be able tothimnk of other ways of understanding that mov, but adds quickly iot is of little consequence. F, for what matters now is whtherthis thesis is an accurate critique of their current postion, and to answer this she says she will need to be tol more about what makes a the ideas, what gives the purposes that their author so wishes were true. Hume then explains. ‘This Author’,m he argues, has already explained many thing by now. He has argued firstly that a purpose is linked to the hidden dynamics of a things which appear strangely for our own use. He sets this then in the context of a discussion of things unseen. The Greek mathematicians were then able to work out all the dynamics of the parabola, and with it laid the future for Newton himself, and yet did soutterly without being aware of it. The essence of the propsive lies then in the fact that the world (such as gravity) appears there comprehendable to us, and useable for us, to bebe designedly sho, and yet exists utterly in reference to itself, and have a life totally apartys and ubto itself, ven as it is usable for us. Or tp put it clearly. Tologly arises when two thigs occur. On the one hand one must attribute to a concept an extra dimension of causaility. Having the idea therefoe opens out on production as it were. One that other hand one musta lso have a fully formed concept from which this idea, this causality is singing. The Circle is then lying within the mind (and its comprehension of space), but is then pulled out firstly into a parabola, and then made to apply to gravity or what have you. The key thento this application is the defintion of a space in between intuitions and concepts. A circle then to be subjecto this hought must be givien in intuion, (and so cannot be a merely empty possibility), and yet it is not that giving which realtes in any sense to the purpose itself. On the copntary the purpose both thinks the grounds (by which I know this conccpet is a a circle), biut also allows within thjose grounds the possibility that that circl;e might be caught up into other dimension 9such as gravity), and hold a clue (even as it givies its concept) into the way to theorize about these other worlds. Here I think our author is closer to me (I mean also to Us) than he might like to pretend. It is our conjecture after all that each idea exists only provisionally. One might then find within the one idea many extra dimensions, as occasion demands. Our difference then lies within the way one understands that linking into what he calls concepts. For me the point was that one needed, because of the nature of intuitions, t always problematize the neat little chains of causality whih arose from them. For me then there was a very real possibility that a dimension within an imagination, within a oept might suddenly, as it is caught up in the external worlds ( I mean givienin intuiton) erupt differently, and be taken off elsewhere. Hence for me a n idea was always subject to a corrosive possibility. The possiblitythe entire idea makes no sense at all 9and could fall about ones ears so to speak). However for thi auhors the possilibty is caught up in the dry realtiy of the concept itself (and therefore occurs after the the formations of possibility). A concept might then be or not be (subject to possibility), and yet at its point of inception, it is valid it thought aright.” “ oh…” Amy suddenly said, and then apologized. It was not meant to cpome out aloud. The last though had been a little different that what she thought, or, she adds perhaps hoped would have been said. Hme askes, the naturally enough what she had hoped. Amy replies, that their author was going to see the oddness of directions internal to the present, as it grasped soemthign elsde. Hence she was both in and out tof th Marshalsea all the time. The poin was that to grasp inan intuopn another as soething different then maks then entire thought unstable, and shoul do 9if it did not she adds their could be a problem). Their author though she adds clearly cannot be saying this. Ume, who smiled again while Amy spoke then interups here: “ he certainly doenot be dear. On the contrary h makes the claim thatteologly are purely a matter of humanity. They arethen the order one puts into te world’ : But how’ (this is Flora: ‘ I mean how could you know it this was the case? Mean, adds If the thoughts is ones own alone, and knowonesles or Humanotie or a divinintes, where could you tell. Why ould I matter” Hume Repleis ‘ this sia goopd point,. Our author argues that it must be the case because iy comes from human reasosn (and therefore issubject to our own knowledge opf ourself –he leaves unaddressed whter that reasosn itself comes from). The problem though he hen faces is how to take this principle fo his an apply it to the real world. That is what exactly in the real world could be said by us, by our ideas to operate according to causalities. Here the answer is no doubt framed by he needs of the concept. He coulfd not say then, as we might that it is defined within interactions and sop every concept is permenatly at risk from its own internal possiblityies). He must rather say the far more problematic remark that each element of the universe is said to be purposive when it is emeshed within a complete causual nexus (with the whole itself giving the concept itself). Hence he seeks to enfold the piossiblities which the concept had opened up. I eman the possibility that each dimension, each susidray oncept is always caught ino things beyond itself. It I now endemic so, and yet is so as it is a part of a whole, whose dimension is only givin across the entire intracaies of its relations, and which can never be purposive beyond this realion” Amy cannot let this carry on. Aagain she interuupts. She claims that this is pure nonesne as it missed he defintative point of a living creature. Creatures are not, for her, and she adds, sh thinks for Hume as well, merly to be thoiught of interms of their bodies. On the contrary they are closer to being a nexus of perception. Or bttr, she adds, how the hidden spirings of nature, which intracte the indvidual with it mnatural world are caught in allowing something to be alive. One cannot then (sav over the bland question of mortality) separate out a living body from all the rest, and pretend to oneself hat it matter/ Hume interupts again ‘ say rather this is a deteabout the nature of those hidden spirings in which the min is givien. For us, the hidden springs are elements that pitch a mind ino the world (the hidden springs are then ultimately merely one force amongst all the rest possible) For our Author, to the contrary the point lies in having a complete mind…” “ Oh” inerupts Flora,: Sorry, but also you mean also having a complete body as well, so can only give then one with the other, unlike you two ho argue that neither th body or mind ae either complete (and that perception, and the body as h9dden springs it contains) means that this is the case’ “ Hume Aagain gestures aprovavl, and continues. Here I think itmight be useful to rembme what I saud. I represented three gie distinct alternativesfopr thinking against simple Teleolgoy. It is perfectly possible to behave a our Author does, and assune the world is the creartion of some divine mind (and he was wrong is not allowing m this thought). The problem I had with this thought was not that it was wrong, but trather that it lead one to the lunacy of imposing humanity (and the God made in its image) upon the world. Think of a creater, and its mind then by all means and yet not confuse that mind with morality or anything to do with humans, our Auhto here is of course attempting to develop a alternative here. He is arguing that nature itself has not purpose save the one I must give it to understand it (which of course I accept one does), and therefore that this division cannot be made. That is one cannot simply separate out the my attribution of the world to a divine mind from my abilty to understand. However, as I have aleady made clear this attribution bothers me hardly at all, as it demnds that one accepts already what he has said about understanding, and its concepts. It rests ultimately therefore or our Authours belief that understanding at once synthsized an accurate and fixed concepts of things external to us, but that it only did so according to rules within usThe Concept is complete, an therefore so must we be. My entire argument rests on almost the opposite move,; namely that a body, and its mind were fundamentally pitched within the world, and this pitching concerns, in the latter case pintuitons (in the former it involves those hidden springs of nature). Each idea is therefore provisio…’ Amy againinterupts. This im she does not apoligize,but says that it cannot be quite a simple as Hue is making out. The point, she then goes on to say, about the perception lies in the fact that it is necessarily conscious. It is not hen that perceptions are simply lying broke in the mind (she adds), but this breaking is caught up within a consciousness, which will always do its best to arrange itself across the lines of fracture (and she might add, but does not, across what is absolutely unbridgible). The difference then is where the ‘unity’ is For Their Author (Amy says) it is clear that the unity is, it being argued held within the reciporical relations of the body. A Body is then always caught up in its own unity. The Idea makes good the lack of any clear principle arranged across all the process of the body, and allows the concept (the this is a certain animal) he emerge from an apparent diversity of shifting moves). This move is, moreover, she adds fundamentally distinct from the other more, by the same author, who of course argued that understanding was tied to consciousness (and what he called the I Think). He places therefore possibility and consciousness in the service of the construction of concepts (that is the drawing of the world of into perceptions). Reserving then for ideas (that is reason in a far fuller sense) the ability to regulate what then goes into the concept (which it of course does at the same time). Th upsot is then that ideasre operating as almost ‘shadow consciousness’, finding within the bodies of others. Pretexts and principles by which those bodies could be thought of as if they were conscious (which appears to me to be the aim of his teologizing).’ ‘ Maybe.’ It is Hume who relpiles: ‘ I see your poin. He certainly does need to understand then the body, and ultimately all of nature as if it were an arcetonic mind. His argument being that this is what we must do inorder to understand at all…’ Amy again inteupt. She says that was her point. He needs to makethis move because he has reversed what for her ought to be the order here. That is, she says , the consciousness is for her and hume the product of the process. It goes then without saying that one can infer from this effect varying analogous expereineces. She says, she means, that one can argue that other animals probably have some kind o consciousness of their own (and therefore it is not such a great thing, as she suspects their Author thinks) to argue that they are conscious. Indeed she wonders if she might say that all living things are essentially ‘conscious’ (by which, Flora at least understands here as meaning all elements are defined though their ability to think other in themsevles, and not merely to react to those other: Hence it is Hume at lrast understands, to reflect the postion of th sprining body, which remains whole only in the quake of being sprung). Hnece one can then reasoon effectively consciousness sin animals, and yet the nalogy would become under stain (and yet to a degree be valid) for plants. The problem then being in what sense one can think the same idea for Nature (or cutlrue or whatvere). Hume here cackles in delight. “ This is my point! He’ Suddenly says: this Authors is clearly taking the consciousness as a model., and then, finding that he cannot in good conscience apply it to animals, and fearing to argue then for different kinds of cosciousness (for that would apply to souls as well), he looks to their bodies, and to the argument that a body, and its shifting causes, its ability to hold within itself its own dimensions: Both in the sense of its own ability to exist, but also the dimensions of what it will become (it own Autopoeisis), allows one to set up an analogy to conciousness in the body itself. That where my father must be!” Flora interupts’ I mean in those shifting percepctives, those not quite being abl to hold onto what you are. Imean, the point is, that is one sets up the body as ana anaology o consciousness, then the arguments clearly also runs the otherway. The consciousness becomes itself consitistent in its shifting respectives, and reflections. One is caught up otherwise in time, then and conscuious becomes its stooge. Upne is suddenly then I do not know quite where’. “ Tahtis as maybe Flora, but it is clear hat it is currently becide the point.’ Hume answrs.’ What matters here is that this procedure by our Author rauns, I think contary to whatone should do. Faced with the order of the world, he iks clearly right, one needs complex explainations. And yet the burden of the prove here must surely lie in the complexity of what is requires, an not the explaination. I mean our author understands the need for compleixt, and their presets one with a single extremel complex solution. I preferred to dny that a single explaiantion was simply necessary (not does of course our Auhor deny this, as the point is for him hat everything is merely a hypothesis). The result bein that I give three (but wih I cold have givien more) possible analogies, with each becoming more dsiant fom human consciousness’ Amy here answers that she thinks the Author of whom theuy are speaking might want to say at this point that they were slightly pastiching his position. His argument (as Hume had faithfully recounted Amy says) was that understanding, or better something like understanding was needed to allow one to draw up imaginatio into conepts (and therefore experience is not enough). Reflection therefore needs to inhabit, (and here Amy looks worried at Flora) its temporalities in two differing directions:it therefore needs already to be reaching into itself, and pulling itself differently, even as is given therefore, Amy concludes. Hue though snorts and pelies, ‘why is then that then a crtisim of my postio prey? Allt he more so if I accept Flora’s arguemen, as I who have been makingit so forughtly to me. Tht is if I accept that causality articualtes times in muddy in them in diverting ways. Hence Arthur the idea did not rest in Flora’s mind by bred in it a monster. Where then we differ fro this Author, and from your Father, is that we feel little complusion to provide an architonic to this muddling. That is for us the muddling is the effect of being within a mind, within a body within a universe; while for him the muddling is the very stuffing of the Soul itself!But that is almpst the point. Once the soul has such astuffing, of he goesto collct other analagaous, and finds theworld fo nature. For us however there must be quite a differne road. Casaualtieis,as Flor presents then lyer th mind o varying differing complex degrees (if one accepts, as I suppose I might) he idea ah tone can think of a cause which straddles , widely different times. Now The point is that the elements which would be analogous to these times would pull the mind beyond concousness. I herefore present to other version, of possibilities for nature, the Vegatble and the Bloind force universes. Now it is worth stressing here, what conditions these moves, that I what these universes all share is the demand to treat in the external world. The point is then always how does this treatment happen. The eprcoeving mind clearly arranges a world of conscious causes in one way, and he plant and blind force another. Nature could say be akin to a great vegatabkle, which constantly exteds itself, nd ita body (an hich can then accepts a great deal of change and shiftaing of ballsts and dimensio). The Vegatabe wiorld is then world of slow growing cauasilities, of budding, and inaction which klater appers to take root, and change what it. It I a world also of natural flows, where apparently unrelated elements (for example the evapouratin of water) are taken up by a lving form, and used, and yet the use remains firmly ‘natural’ (it I impossible therefore to say that a plant causes the flow in its vessels, as it is a palnt it certainly does not). Likewise it is a world o misdirecion. Energy from one great source is oddly misapprioate for another, sun becomes sugar , and soul chemicals are directly taken yp into the riots and made likewise. Additionally (and perhaps oen I carrying no the anaoplgy too far) it is also great that the very structure of a plant relies on the flows of the elements which nonetheless reamin external for it. Hence its cells are unflated within water, whici is never simply its own). To be a palnt is thn not akin to a mid. One is not as consciousness surely does (and no boubt does even in a plant) warping the world into recip[orical relations. one the contary almost the point about the plant is that these elements reamin external, and are not simply taken up and subsumed (in any whioch way). A p[alnt (and the mind,or natue as it can be a plant0 is then necessarily pitched into the world, which it can of course partially modify, and yet its life cannot be reduced to hese modification alone. If we are following our authors archtonics. The Mind and the concept were taken togther (and givien an animal reality), as it was across these ordring dimension of recipircally determined causes and effects the concept of an animl could be allowed. Here, the the vegetable, one has a different ser up, in that the causes are no longer ricporically determined relations, but rather juxtapose elements which retian their difference, and must do so,even as one is said to infear with the other. Te concept is then not the point of union (and onr needs no mind, I mean universal consciousness) to suppose this unity or think it allowed. On the country on needs a plant’ subevision’ (which is distinct from prupose) that that takes up elements, as different to it, and allows that difference essentially to matter (or perhaps articulates it differently) Blind force is of course different ahgain. These forces share with understanding the idea that they are both cause and effect, are both caught up in bein midified, and also thesmevles modify. They pass, at it were (and of course this is a mere imagination, a fancy if you will0 they pass between many assignabl perception, a thnable element in matter, and ae always effects (ad effected) in soe,thing else. It maks jo matter that this though of itself in almost unthinkable (it is certainly unpecievable), as the current debate is not, quite about the thought, bnut also the unthought elements(o better what it isI am perceiving). The Blind force is then the point which is always acting elsewhere , and so the pojnt which is most fitting to be perceived (or better givies he clue to perception itself: it allows as ral that taking, reacting in another which perceptios must be). These lind forces then can make no order of theirwon 9for all their reamin ritical) and yet might at ceratin times, locally at least be arrage in partiocualr orders (one might say bpoies), which comprise certain organs (or better ways to take up their motion). One can therefoe articulate as distinct what is necessarily conjoined in our authors work. He thinks that the riciporical raltinos, and the units in which this realtino I given are one and the same (which it is in the other cases, and is after all the rational position, and one the vegative and mind point start with). These realtino are now thproduct of temproaltieis as it were (and may , but it would need to be demonstrated usually will be so), the the blind forces, the demanding another change dris the process onwards. For how are we toknow that then entire supposition of this author (and so many) tht order requires an expanation is itself such a problematic one? Maybe order is merely hat many intracieis, many reapting relations create kntotime, at some level. And we, at our levl;, in ou own order look to the spoecific orders surroind us, and blink in follosih wonder, thinking how odd it is. We do not then see either the chaos surrounding such an order, nor yewt the fact hat our order is caught in other chopass (or partialorders), but larger and smaller than ourselves. But this is of course the merest speculation. What the last point then makes clear enoughis that the achetonic here is one or both order an coas (which both early emerge across the time, even thohgh they ae notof that time), and yet the elemen which the creates the concept reaminsdisitnct (as the blind force). However one needs of course here an additional care, in hinking this force, it is clearly a nonesense to ask (as it is with identity) where it is one or many. It is neither or both. If anything it is of course closest to being many. Each force only makes sense as it is occupied within other dimensions of the ‘whole, is a subversion across these elements: An abilty to thn deide one many, opart of whole is then lot ( picture which dos of couse mirror perception rather well, and even consciousness, and perception give us, but no doubt outrages reason)’ Amy replies,that she does see the sense I ue’s postio. It seems to her that it would add an extra dimension to what their author had asserted. Hume asks hw. Amy looks at Flora who starts off. ‘ What we are saying, I think is that this author gets for us at least something very right. He get the idea that there are differing orders within nature. Hence th patterns in which the body is formed is not quite the same nature as the patterns within nature as a wghole is ormed. The author then ees this, no oubt as a product of both the differing abilty of the archtonic mind, and the diffeing reciporical elelemtns. The world is then full of wholes (which are in that they are wholes of one kind) and thought as recopical relations. The hole, perhaps are then like society itself, heaassertino of one emense ballet upon the world. The contrary position is then the one you are arung, that thei as simply different physical realtieis behind these differing points (and that only one of them as a hole at all). The other elements then simply never form part-whole systems, but rather either pose merely parts (the vegatuv mind0 or a system which is nether part not whole 9blind force). The entire problem becomes then impossible to arbitrate across or between differing whole, one needs rather to revel int hem (and in anoy others on can devise). Hence perhaps (her Fglora looks areully at Amy, as if reading her face, which appear to hume quite blank),the point is tht onc one is dealing with a paereptio as it is in ones body, the wold as Maggie migh say it, one is freed from the Author’s her teology of concept and object, or reality. The world is never about realities, but rather involves constructions and constitutions of elements, whose articulation and construction remains problematic and which while they allow one to navigate iemnsionof the wold, also contain elements of artifice and fancy”. “ Now I am nt sure exactly what you are saying here’ (This is Hume)’ or better, it seems to me that you ould be conceivably saying one of two thigs. You could be mking an iontological claim as to the nature of artifice and truth. Each such construction is then at once both an acess point on the world, a way to articulate the elements in that world (to understand why it s one understands as one does, and as our Author has it). The alternative argument is the one think I made (although perhaps my dsicintion here wer less clear than could be): That everythin is artifice because everything is perception, and therefore the is nothing special abou any point of the many artifice, save what is givien by habit. It is then Habit which is ture, and the artifices it builds.” Amy replies that Hue need caution here not to confuse dimension in his won work. I is certainly the cae that every construction of the mind is bounded up error, which it articulates, and augments. Indeed Amy wonders whether this was the real problem. For her at least (but she thinks she doubts Hume could accept this), there would be no neat or easy barruer between elements in the mind that were constructive and elements which pulled the mind in direction it should not go. Her Fther was hen both. Both miser, beggar, and yet in his helping of others (for whatever motive) or his love of her, strangely noble. The deep problem she always faces is the problem that noble thoughts or complex careful readings is certainly not enough to prevent other elements also being strengthened. Artifice is then a very correct terms (and perhaps is fancy), for querying the status of what elemens one finds in ones mind. It demands that truths be constantly re-forged ino habits, into usal practices (themselbes modifying)m, and that those which flot upon the top of the thought, it adtionally values, and then sentances to languish in the mashalasea of the mind: In debt to oher brighter thoughts elsewhere. Flora adds hre, ‘ the problem with these errors, these debtors whther inPrision or in the Office or in Parliament, is that they never know themselves to be in debt.” Am contnues. Therefore the point of your work is to allow th mind both a point that it can learn about the world, an reac to it, and yet also a demand that what it does know is always caught up in the game of modifying the world in which it is given. How of course (given the split from simple ideas and impressions) be otherwise? To call idas a fancy is then a reproof’… “ And yet’ Hume interjects’ there is a real problem here . Or at least our author might have it so. He would argue, no doubt that the concept is needed to understand at all, and the concept can then our be understood through an appeal to reason, in which the conditions by which a concept, a want, is constructed out of a number of disperate and conflicting intuitions” Againti isFlora who answer: ‘ But we have said this. Or perhaps, (here she strangely looks in Hume’s face, and seems to read things out of his eyes)., one needs so much care here. Your author I his first critique clearly wants to have two things one way ,if you see what I mean. On the on hand he argues that it is impossible to gather impression upon impression into a single intuition unless space and time operated to resolve these impressions: or the other he argues that the concept and the present arise together (=x). Hence the reason why impressions cannot be gathered togter in a single intution (called space or time) in internal to the construction of space and tiem itself! You argument is wso very muh more sublte. St leas that is what my says’ The argument, Amy carries on here, as that he impressions was indeed over and gone (and not like an concept) because it left, in a imple idea, a highly complex artifact (and artificie). It was then opf course spossible to take this artifice (or actually to taken an amalgam of many artifices) and back date them, as it were towards theintuitons into which the turmbles int the mind. Of course one can d so, Amy says. And yet one can also wonder why one should want to behave in such a paradoxical manner.: or better want to account for this manner itself. Or perhaps, Amy says, looking here almost anxious, one needs to ask of oneself why this author looked to the mind to explain this curious feeding back (and so found my father, mutters Flora again Hume notes). The point I that he wished that the truths of his mind were necessarily true, and was prepared to invent the one circumstance of the min in which this is indeed the case: The particular understandings. In reference to our above discussion, it is of course really no wonder that it this move requires one to suppose the existence of a universal mind (which is nonetheless, not created save in this thought): How else can a truth be guranteed save whn oen supposed that soemthign totally other has thought it first. Our Authors Genius then lies in having this attibutino a part in the human mind itself (and way it knows itself to be human, to be thinkling) rathe than is directly asserting such a mind to be. However we might very well say that the need for truth lies at the root here. The Archtonic mind, is the then rubric which justifies the fee back mechanisms by which an idea has an identity (Amy here involuntarily shudders) bred into it. But perhaps one can make exactly the same ideafor he giant vegatable. Of couse te problem is different. It is no longer the problem of understaning exactly what purpose all these disperate understandings perform (and therefore how they can be conditioned into a single idea). The problem is now one of how each given force, is made to act otherwise ven as I share in its energy. The world in then not the understanding of purpose, but the act of transition, of founding oneself with energy conversion. Each indivial wil lthen not be mysteries dimension within understanding, s much as an ability to itself be criss-crossing those dimension, always partially, and always from inside. The Giant vegatable, in then the thinking of the impossibility of living this to act without challenging that medium in which they are (and which from which at times they are barely distinguished). This is not puropose, in the sense one is not simply asking ‘what goes where’, or even how does this fit into a whole, plant, how can a plant be said to be forming or forcing these ideas. On the contrary, one essentially needs to drop the idea of the plant being simply xternal from the forces it suberts, but also that I has a single simple point of being. When Amy said this last popint, Hume suddenly started. Amy looked very shy of an instan, but soiledered on. She saus she means that the entire point form her of a plant seemed to lie in itl ambivalence of form and shape. A single plant cold in different condition be many forms. It could likewise compromise many differing potential individuals (by budding or flowering). It lacks then an immiedate and simple unity of the animals: Its process, it realtion to the enrg into which it is cuahgt is then able to make a single act (saying growing a limb) opn at it were to numerous possible ‘puopses’, and dioffering event and occasion allows. To set oput a root, is also then to op up the possility of becoming a different plant, or being o the waytoa d fifering plant. One cannot thenrefoe dar into a worl of single puriopse (the this does that), as the point is it does many (and might not even lead to the ame paln, either as n individual, or even, as s the caseof a fruit tree, or a lichen for that matter, the same plant). Plants simply are ot then seprated from thesemvles and others in the same way as anaimals are, an cannot be understood simple by purpose. Here Hume intrputs. ‘ this is intereting, but takes us intot he the land of a hpless metaphysic’. Amy deiens this. She says that she has not simply sai that the plant exists . he would not calim then that being plant and being a mind were simply tendencies on thisng thesemvles. A ludicrously immodest calim, h thinks. What she emans was that if one follws their autheor one can make the same argument about plants as mind \.Hume demurs at this point. ‘ Tnere is however a clear differenence, rember the poer of to as if. The point is that an act of understanding immaentently assumes everything to be as in a great mind to understand at all. It is not then ht this umind exists in any other place than the understanding itslf. It is therefore the practicle hypothesis assumed within the mind, within reason, one that we cannot dispense with’ Amy denies again that there is really much difference here. The idea that one is part in the universe, and caught up in the forces of others, which are absolutely distinct, and almost violently so, seems to Amy at least to be just as a realistic truth as anything else, anything understanding might otherwise demand. (Hume acquessess at this point). Likewise Amy continues a force is not simply ‘there’ a tendency o the world, n yet is a corrallary to understanding the inumerbality of elements which logically mus be pitched inbetween distinct parts. Ay says she means, thepoint fo this blind force lies in its abilty to encompass, without resorting ever to unity. The point of the force then lies in no whole, but rather in the wetching part from any was of thinking the whole:everything of the force is a part. Where of course you and I, and one of your interloquers agree is that the ‘ontological’ status of this force remains undescidable. It oes not have
(or require) a unity its on, and exists then mostly, or perhaps entirely, a hypothesis bred within our minds (even toughno by us). It then takes the element ofth plant life – the though of beign cauht, and turns it into the findamental extraction of the wold itself. A blind force, neither one more many, in which we are a mere element9incldigign our abilty to think), describes then a supreme dimension of being locked ithin a self re-creative world (and does so without the need, as our Author notes, to eve blithely asser that this world has some simplistic truth value of itself own). Hume here looks almost vain Hethen carries; The queion of course in the link between these diemnsino and th world of art. You will remember that in art sees then mind gather extra dimension to itself. in a wok ofart then one lurches across the realm possible thoughts, and feels the very multitidue of possible reaction as a creative force (one thereby allows oneself a greater dimension to ones thinking). Ow what you have said clearlytoches on a disinctino I made when discussing this remark. The Narrative based view of the historian (so vital in most ways), clearly operates within the domain of our authors Archetonic mind. To think a history is to reatea thread o events leading to other events, that was never simply within the world. On grafts therefore a linear time, a passing of the past into the future, which while utterly natural to all the minds thinking this progress was nonetheless not of the world itself. This contrast ith the peots gift, who palces his characers less in a story, ad both up agains thte voilenece fo nature itself, wjere thoughs nd feelings are endlessly pitching the actors anew in a stormy sea of living. Hence the view of the historian is the view or author. The view however of the poet is closer to the world of the vegatvie mind, where nothing is ver smply what it was, orwhat it seems, and the exernal forcoes always policie what one is. What human endeavour mirrior the final dimension, that of lind fore I know not, less it is true philosoph itself, which forver aims to remove umans from the conforts of simply asserting their rights to ideas (either by custom or reason0. Amy nodd here, but says she thinks they might have dallied long enough. Flora launches off again. Her problem with these ands was perhaps a problem of staus. Here her father oudnot help, wihhs twiling aound. He intduced her, under the beam of time, with a blith ‘this is Flora’ – this is the ast you have forgotten. Cennam (who was looking to find a narrative in her tale) then looks askance. He feels here indeed to be his past, and to be of his past (which was exactly how he understood his realtion to her). But then (as is of course the way with psts, which are rawy seen, when one is expecting a narrative – but Flora sniffs, he did not provide one here), Arthur find he does not realte to her as past: She is then his past, and yet that being past asserts a dfference, an abyss apparently between them. Thi abyss, Athru is aware is breached somehow. Thelooks on the mermaid and sees oftensoemthing else, soemthign,oveble, nd yet is unreachable by him. He being his past, (and duration crees it, then merely foramlized her postion to him). And yet for flora herself it never felt like this at all! Foi her semthign far more important is going one (andthis allowed her, she says proudly to see Amy first,). This preface then bringing Flora onto the themeof And’s which she feels is so important for her. The And another of lora, as seen in the pevious theme articulate the depth of a complex habit, in that they define the realtinoship by which an known habit, an idea is seen to give tielf across numerous onflicting elements. They will moreover extend te perview of that habit in three dimension of their own. Fgirstly there is outreaching aspect to habits each habit will then reach into other times, and ind new ways to posti itself. Take for exampoe the advent of Doye and Clennam in Flora’s expoereince. Douyc and Cleannam is potentiall a very painful link for Flora, in that it is cealr in being a company name of hisown, or being a aprt in a company, Arthurhas finally the independce from his mother, that he had lackd as a child. He therefore really could marry her. Morevoer he is now a tenant of her father, and therefore already in some kind of realtion with her. The prhaze Douce and Cleannam (which Flora often reapets) poses the very possibility of marriage. And yet tArthur has no visited her at all, or showed any further interest in her. Flora, and her habits cannot then directly omprehend this as a not (habits are not unpicked in that manner), and therefore has at this point no abilty to graps the sense she is not in Arthur’ mind. On the contrary she slleies forth, with the Aunt in tow to visit him (and offer Amy a employement in the process). In this context the And here as a double role to play The first role, will take that lack of a vist into the idea of ‘Arthur’ which so doimantes her imagination, the second, will link it back t the idea of love. Firstly it operates to broing Arthur’s treament of her (or rather her non presence ni his mnd) into her habit. She thefore although cealry hurt by his ignoring of her goes toffer hs again his freedom, and to remind him (as his he did not need eminding) that he was free to marry as he would. This reaniuncing, of course links with an eraleir act, and offers a way for the old habit to ingest wihin itself,as it were his apparnt rejection of her.That is distance had in a sense always been a part of their romance is thereby transported onto Arthur’ not visiting her ( even those he is near by): The And therefoe articulates and animates within her realtionsip top him his absence (and therefore provokes lnguishing glances,aand the mermaid receives a share of this vivacity). Secondly the And will also link back to the love theme that was first developed wthin her rthur Habit. Flora sepaultes, thnking about Doyce and Clennam, whether Arthur has fallen in Love with Doyce’;s daughter. Love then doubles itself up across an And. Or better it calims tha and for itself, across love: To be Doce ad Celannam is then for Flora to think of a new way for Arthur to love (as he has once loved her); The habit then becomes recconfiguered to included Arthur the lover, of Flora and Doyuce’s daughter. Moreover it is of course the case, that Flora is being highly perceptive assertion. Not only is Arthuer in Love with someone who is linked to Dyce (pe is te dughter of a friend), but also Dyoce will take the postin of honourary father to amy in her eventual wedding within Clennam. Flora in the essentially correct in her assertion. Essentially then the pouning o this realtion coul besaid, from Flora’s side to articulate both then negative element and the postive he and Arthur had in common. On he side of the negative, in loving Pet, because she ressembled his memory ofFlora, Arthuer reveals an articificality of his romancing: One Flora recognizes (and fully expressed in her habit). But also in the link to Doiyce and Amy, there is expressed (albeit cloudly) a geuine warmth of heart, which was expressed within their love’s impersonal aspect (hence it can be applied to ohers), and which is the rason why there is still somthignin Flora Arthur could love, is only he could have had it (tah is if he could ony have bracketed of, by buying his own previous character of her, and the mermaids it bred…) So that (curotser of her Nad, which extends her habit outwards) Flora actually gaps key element of her own and Arthu’s nature, evne though he certainly, and he only ith very great difficulty can see this. However at this point Hume feels he has listened enough! This women appears to be glorfiyng her own imagination, her own abilty to create errors: This by itself might not matter, but the error we attbiuted to him sometime before has now rankled him into intreputing her. Flora, h says appears to have forgotten one of his most important principles.One cannot simply infer the realtiy of an object from the perturbation of a imoressions. One cannot therefore infer from ones impression and he simple ideas they produce exactly wah toccurs within object. Howeve the same is not true of ones perceptions of objects. Everything one can say in this second case about objects as they are perceibed must also be able t be said of perception (241). The point is then fromthis that neither perceptions or ideas carry the wieth of truth. What is ture s then the middle point, the impressions. Hume goes on to claim one cannot therefore foister anything like navie realism on him When (as they noted right at the start of the converstation) that objects were vivid as they were perceived; that vivacity must be rooted in impressions. But conversely one cannot calim th oppsote case (as he fears Flora is doing). That is just because one can manipulate perceptions, and their vivacotyto produce intense combination in the miond, tht does not make the mind powerful, merely cofused! One must never loose sight of the middle postion, the head water of thought within the impressions: the self occulding qualities that commuicats a viviacity, an urgency to simple ideas. Hume the offer a ssimple example, je hopes will help Flora (but he islookig at Amy) to understand.Take first the more genral point about external objects. He must assume them, because otehrwsie our mind is caught in an impossible sitation. On the one hand we have perceptions, which appear by long custom and habit to realte to real external obect; but on the other we have reflection which as it examies those obhects realizes they must be based upon impressions that are ephernaml and constantly changing. In order to reconcile these apparent opposites, we posti, as thinkers a crazy situation where he suppose there to be two world in existence. A world of obects, and a world of perceptions which then ressemble those objects (215). The objects then are not only to endure while perception are fliting, but also will invariable be thought of not only ressembling in some way theior supposed object, but also being its cause ( 217). Moreover by making this divide the philsopher manges to live both in the world ofreasosn, which knows tht perceptions are both mine, and self-occulding, and the world of common men, which knows the self-same perceptions appear to give us the world of things. However, and this I want you both to note, it does not mean that their the idea (which I readily conceive is utterly intense) nor the objectwhichthat idea apparently presresents. At this point Amy starts to quietly speak. F,lora also, as far more loudly starts a entence. But Hume has had enough. He raises hos voice far louder than the two of them, can carried on. (t this example does not convince you le me give you another one. Take our perceptions of tase and sight in the matter of an olive. We look at the spherical object and have one impression. We then eact it, and have aother. Between these two setsof impressions their lies clear realtion of contiguity and causality. We belief that as we actin a certain way, a certain sets of results must surely follow (2360. however aswe have been exploring (and you my dear, he says now looking atFlora so apmply tesify) it is never enough for the mind to hav a conjunction of two principles, itwithout the self-same mind looking naturally for a third. The union between tase and sightis clearly as unnatural as Fate in a Go-cart. It is merely a realtion of constant conjunction. The m,ind then takes up this realtion and seeks t add soemthign more to it. It seeks to give it make thetranistion itself natural nad easy ( 237): That I it sees to naturally the apparent vivacity. His it does by adding a thinrd principle, that of a conjunction I place. The two elements tase, and sight are then said to actively rssemble each other according to their respective situations: Both are conjoined in an object in a palce.And yet (238) this raltion is clearnonense. There is not point in the olive that one can say taste exists, either rin part or whole. All of it tases, and yet taste is nowhere in sight. To breed then this ressemblence one needs to look to a fanstsy of place (where both can be said to be), at to the odd ystery of a whole (taste) fills the whole fruit, and yet is also in all parts of it, hich as I say is tatamount to really saying a thing must in a certain place, and yet not their. Far better I argue to respect the very real differences in sense. Reason in thiscase must be allowed to overcome the predjudices of the vulgar. There is, and must remain a clearl ifference between the complex ideas, nd the real state of perception, and you, I am afraid eed to honour that distinction (hume looks at Flora hard here). If we do not, then all our eoors of belief,would no doubt follow, and yet still give one no more acess to truth. Hume stops, looking all the while at Flora. But she is curiously uncowed. She ha an answer. Althoggh, she might be the first to confess it might notbe s very goodone. The point she thinks was essentially concend by Hume in his first example. The reason why one breeds inones mind this conjunction, I not thoughtless folly, but rather theknoweldge that whatever thoughts one has they will nes to be repatable not only to oneself but to others. Onesays then that a shape and a tase run otgther, are togther, because that conjunction defines the situation the sperate elements repeat. { Amy quietly adda as an adie to Hume here, hence your birllant point abot the object. The object is that I assign to another which defines how it can reapt, it is therefore that which defines the sense that}. Flora though has firmly not finished yet. The point is I think the appeal to the vulgar. Here surely wha matter is that causality, as you repsent I is Vulgar? I mean is essence lies in its repeatability. What then defines the causal realtinoship of sight and taste, you re so fond opf is a resemblance. This resemblance is of course drawn between repeated instances of thisevent. Howeer is seems clear to be that Fat in a go cart like expression matter because they define in findind a ressemblence that element within is going to repeat., It isalmost therefore as if the contiguity is envolvoped in one ressemblence inorder to define its manner of repeating across all others. The conjoining of distperate elements, then matters because withoutthe vulager repetion of the object, cause could not tear itself away from contiguity. Moreover when one rembmers that yousaid the realtion also works the other way aropun (and so one defines congtuities to match ressemblence), this argument would double back of conjunct with itself. the resemblence of each occurrence would beenfolded by an contiguity (which would also be illict, strict regard to truth), , but would be indesicinible from the intai lcontguity which ressemablnce was enveloped in the first place. What you are breating then are he very loops tht allow causilty to exist therefore. Amy here looks at Flora quite hard. Flora stops under ha gaze, amy starts. “It cannot really be quite that simple Flora, either for you or hume, as you must not forget whatwas said about impressions and their realtion to ideas. If you move too quichkly here, the problem is that one jums from this necessary nvolope based upon ressembance, t an assumoption whis envelope os somehow necessary, to a demand for the principle for being univerlizable (which is I know not wuite what you mean), and therefore logical”. “ In short you risk moving from my arguments about conjunction, toan arguemen made on synthesis, and so from Mr Hume to Hier Kant’, Hume adds with a snort. Amy adds the poi toyu raise ios still good though Flora. There is a real issue here. There is an element within Hume is difficult to reconcile, unless one makes the whole: Or better I guess unless on makes the whole as the condton which could the repeat. And yet one must not loose sight of the fact that that whole is always itself composte, as it involves both a communication and a direction (and therefore has vivacities of its won). Hume is no looking carfully at Amy, studying her features., Has he does he adds: ‘I guess what you are again saying, an perhaps being too moset to add, that the contrast draw between philosophical and vualgr thinking,a nd the dialogue I seek to set up between them, neds not gforget that what really makes that dialogue is the postion of imporessions as the fountain of vivacity. The problem then being exactly how one understads this realtion. On the one hand, one can make reality configure aound the vivacity. If one follows this rule, then really any and every move might be said to be possible, so lon as opn can ensure the gathering of vivacity (and I accept that gathering is itself tricky). If one follows this path, whioch I guiess miust be Floras one respects tat eah impression is geneunelyindividual, and meremly articulates the viacity, drawing it up into whatever elements one wants. Ironcially then its starting postion is almost identical to the world I as left if. The order on viacious but unrelated (if demandsing) impressions and simple ideas: One mightI suppose say that this model is based upon making each impressions itself public: I mean here that the impression itself in its viviacty cuts any which way. The problem then is how one attempts t build ones own mind around these public elements (which could always be had by anyone). That is I guess why (real compassion in voice here perhaps?) Flora always tied herself in so many knots.. She was very arare that here impressions (and her passions) were themselves never quite hers: and therefore inorder to posess them, in ny meaningful sense one had to keep camging what one was. The opposite case (which apradoxicially both I and Flora also hold) was that one allows impressions to be public in some sense. if then an impressins as it is held in common bynyone,. By everone. The problem of course is that what is held in common by everyne is not the commonality of the perception itself. t is rather the experience owned. The idea of tase and shapre, that is so pecualirly MINE and no one elses: once one has then made this ‘small’ concession to unreality, one is then caught up in the social world of reapting causes: to put her a different way, the vivacity is now stripped from h domain of perceptos, and becomes a social affai. My reat principle, hat all principels are base on somthign in common, the becomes a commonality based on shared experience (including those experiences I share with myself).. Your pint I guess Little Dorrit or Amy if Floa prefers, is that you want to us to think of a conjioing of thse very different ways of thinking, which then of itself does not turn upon synthesis, for If does you know that what makes you, and the rest of us so special, so different, the belief that truth, vivacity, and impressions somehow lie together will be lost.’ Amy nodds. The point is that for her, I for no-one else, the commonality of vivacity impression (that is that we all have certain vivacious impression, andattendent ideas), and he commnality of scoal vivacity (the ideas form as a world) need to be one the same. Ones perceptions need not then be ones own in both senses at once: They are that inwhose vivacity one exiuss, but also that whose vivacity requires one to think socially. ‘But’, Hume goes on ‘this wrongheaded, as it is not the vivacity, or even what has been here called self-occulsin which defines marks an impression Out. On the contrary, as he made clear right at the start of his first book,Iboth self occlusion and vivacity are a conseqenc (nd not a cause) of the fact that the impression must always predate the simple idea (5). Without imoressions,and their content no idas of he imaginatio could occur; and this priority needs never be lost.’ ‘But’’ replies Amy’ one needsso much caution here. It strikes me one needs to becareful about what it is in the being first of impressions that really matter. In content they are of course exactly the same as simple ideas. It is then very easy to imagine a mind I which the two were really not divided. Such a mind would then undertstand that its own imagination (that is it own abilty to reach out and look at things) was the source of what perceptions it has. All the more so as in certain cases you admit this is indeed true. Hence you argue that are cossaion what the imagination can geneate images (say of a colr within a coulr range) inspite of never having seen that coulopr at all (5-6). Nor is it enough to say that impressions are linked to organs, and this link coud easily be by the imagination;such that he imagination was so restricted that if it lacked and organ, it could not imagine in a certain manner. Your argument is then not so much about priority, as content. Hence thereamrk made that impressions are self occulding and vivid. Or perhaps, givien your not really liking these terms, oe might say that impressions need to be understood as naturally being what the simple idea oly record. This is their ‘natural being’, the simple existence, unbidden of the shade of a blue in the mind, which is as it is vivid givien only in itself (and of itself links within nothing else). To Be first, is then not merely a matte rof imagination (that is or temporal roder), but rather because there are certain quite different elements in the mind, the impressions, who vivid nature can only be givien in being what they actively are; and, beause (one no doubt simplyknows, from long experience) that without which occuring first allsimple (less vivid) ideas will not themselves be. It is then in this second dimension that ideas come in 9which must be always linked together). Can you acpet this formation?’ “ ‘ It is more of less what I say, I suppose. But again the implication which must be drawn from it, which out Firend Flora here, appears to have forgotten. Notions such as Place exist within the imagiation alone. It lacks is own vivid thought, which needs to be given first. Its vivacity is then as it were (to use another terms) an apostri reality, and not 9 I do not really care for this Cod Latin ) the apriori, or better the creative vivid realty I wished to make it. My point is then the creative act by which the mind is demanded to think occurs, beyond the mind, and palce simply ignores that fact, in the interest of what the mind itself can subsequently create. If one likes therefore it pay not enough respect to what is actively being creatuve and (bizarrely, given the pious people who oftern uphold suh a doctrine, fails to accoiunt for a singual act of creation, which occursbefore us all. Amy again answer. Sh argrees that this ppoint is a good one. She suggests that the problem is perhaps a little different though. It is less that Palce (or Spcae or any resemblance based on such matters) really lacks respect of possibility. That it it seeks an ever constricting union, and misses therefoe the sense that what is could always have (as it is given withi us) have been different. It is then thi jarringof the different whai really marks out our thought (and prevent imgination simply synthesizing experience, a such a postion would lack the collapse into something different, something beyod what we are’ “ ‘But not Spritual’, Hume here inistis. Amy Replies that she has not said so. The point is secondary anyay (Hime nods). What matters is that perceptions are kept open, and that every combinatio of them could always b different: Each perception is then not a substance, so much an an endemic fragement, which defies any whole into which it is gathered, and must lways be a constituent I numerous diverse thoughts; and must be so, Amy continues, because, as you remarked before, each such perception is itself primary, and befire any mind which seeks to enclose it. Or to putit another way, each such percepion is vivacious in a very open sense. it is not merely an immdieate response to what is occuring, but is also vivacious across the mind, in an endless whishper to hought. “ That is the problem!’ cries Flora, speaking now quickly. ‘ I was a little lost before. Secsations, be they passions or perceptions arise and could always to thought differently. Ideas therefore that are not right in another regard, canfall so very differentl. I knoew almost right away from the moement I saw Arthur, he did not love me. I said as much. And yet, And yet it is not just ture that he did not love me. I knew I was caught up in his pas defintion of love, whih was still somwhee in his mind, and in the looks he gave me ( Poor Flora- what pity did I ask of him?): A was there in his new younger love interest’, and I could read that strange vivacity in something about his past, and soemthign about his life. I was also strangely stil lthere in another aspect. Remember (although he did not tell me this), he had visited us out of regard for Amy. It was as if Amy was already in his heart, and in the same sense that he could not find her (she being is focal point, beyond his line of sight 694), in the ame way my goodness of heart illuded him (even though it also enchanted him (258): Moreover these two were clearly caught up in the one another: Pancks, you found Amy’s fortune came to her through my wanting to help her (and so my understanding that is was a part of Arthur’s aim in visiting me – the better part at laest). Hnce it wasno surprise, that Amy was told of her chnge in fortunes while I was their: Liewise I am of course the first well after Maggy) for be told of Ay and Arthur;s marriage, and I am happy for them too! That is my problem is that in all sensation there are many elemens: the same basic external perceptions could be hooked into other ways. And my problem, and I think the problem of what you are calling causality (which is always built into the mind after the event), lies in this awareness: the wareness that vivacity defies any simple giving, and therefore the same viviacity cold need to e re-drawn.” ‘ Yes, to a degree Flora’ Amy adds, here the of Mr. Hume’s concepion of auailty does indeed lie in that it starts off in nonesence. Ake his own example of whther material and mental causes interaction (249). Here one have tow system, which appear to demand utterly different world as we reason with them (that is as we arrange them in our minds). And yet there is equally clearly a union, such that elements we know to be material have a constan t and steady efct within the mind. Causailty therefore demands that we link to thwo togther, and does s whatever scrupples about the difference be know must be between the two.. Conjections therefore, in that bind togther two different ideas ,which nonetheless remain external from each other, are by themselves a nonsense: the resemblance they breed togyheris very much the resemblance of fate in a go-cart: a resemblance which needs aplogizing for in the first instance, but then proves its worth latter.. Perhaps, if I was following your path (said to Flora) I might say that such conjunctios have value in how they are subsequently altered by subsequent perception, and without this intensification such a phrase remains a mere dogrel. Perhaos, again develpping. Amy then adds, to qualify Flora’s Hypothesis, that there are essentially two elements which are gained by the fact hat the idea tself ramins nonsense. On the one, it same conjunction an be internallydsirupted. Fate in a Go-cart, then devlopes within itself, within the cause of the novel aspects the sense that it is true: By itself it is of course dfat, and yet, in envolopes very reach aspects of Mrs Cleannam, allowing as it does one to both be aware of these aspects (and so not to loose their viviacity in other dimensions): a Nonesence Conjunction of elements which reamin separate- whose resemblance is only givien a conjoining whose meaning can grow in a mind, an make sense of a link which might hjave, in the huzzell and bussel of living been lost. Alternatively The thought of Flora and Clennam, as opposed to Doyce and Clennam, that sees her visit him in his work time, might itself be a nonsense, and yet was one inspired by Pancks (and so inspired by a contiguity, of her, her father property, her old lover, and his work…): This link in itself had little on no consequence (Arthur sdoes not visit Flora again until he needs something else). However this conjoing illict in itself. matters because it serves to trigger Pancks in his quest for the Dorrit fortune. Conjuctionions therefore might well be untrue in themselves, and yet other truths might still only be possible in their thinking. “ No, this cann really be the case” interrupts Hume, “ You said your self that probalities really matter, and the Flora approach, for all its local interest seems to loose sight of his fact. Now here I see there mght be a genuine contradicton opening up here in the nature of the possiblie. On the one hand if reality is enmeshed in vivacity, there is as I mention a real contraction in chance. On theone hand there is the vulgar understnding of causality, which is identical to habit. The Vulgar merely carry on thinking a thing because they aleays have. If soe,thing goes wrong, theythink it merely an exception (unti it becomes the norm). Only the Philosopher (and then only really the scpeticial philosopher) is able to allowalways the possibility that the world has changed: and therefore opens their mind to chances” Amy replies to this remark, that for her the problem is essentially a little different. By Philosophical what Hume means is not a frame of mind or even a thinker, but a certain occasion of circumstance. Hume’s model is then based on objective repetition of the same contguity. If this repetion was merely of actual elements, ifthen it was what Hue understands as a repetion, thi move would be possible (although Amy wonders whether there might still be problems even here).. However in the case of an order, it seems obvious to Amy at least, that unless one has already posed each link as if it were an element which did repeat, unless one devised in for each contiguitiy, its resemblance equivalent, even as it is given, she doubts that one could ever quite say that any one element simply repeated, as that repetion would itself all too likely be lost within all the other contiguities (and their attendent links) in which it occurred, It is therefore only by setting up elements whose emaning can only be givie in repetion: that is which must gather their woen vivicatiy, across other impressions, can one break out of this problem. A causality therefore ‘ressembles’; as impression, no only by having a direction (as an impression self occudles,m and imposes direction in the mind) bit by also demanding others harken to what is says (alough it has no aboilty to force them to listen).To Conjoin, must be then synomous with the vivacity of a perception which reaches across times to give its effect, and not then merely some immediate join which can be simply repeated: Or to put its slightly different, what distinguishes causality for blind contiguity, what makes it peculiarly about a sight, is that a certain conjunction, implies a direction, whose value is givien within its abilty to infect other impressions (that therefore to also be there when they are). Probality then comes in, because almost all suh unions reamin essentially still born: They grasp in vain.) Th Link is therefoe open because oit might fail, the problem Amy says is to ensure that it can. A problem which is surpisingly complex. “ Moreover” Flora adds “ what you say is anway no advance on what I do. In each exerpiment it could easily be the attendent factors which are diriving the repetion. The link then could quite easily be false. All the more so because as it is reapeted (by different element) more and more, it will be linked (in associaiion) to other perceptions, and will grow illicitly through them. But for me at least this does not matter. It never really was the problem anyway. What matters, if one thinks about the emergence of the possible is the way one thinks everything else, I mean the occulded chance, the world, the habits, the reality that was lost, when things hange. I mean I was at least honest in m looks to Arthur. H in his looks of pity to me, was dishonesty in a Pheonix. I Mean, is looks at me, both, in their pity conveyed an old Love: I love that had been reborn elsewhere, in another, even if he did not yet know quite where that other was.” Here Amy looks worried ‘ I am so sorry ‘ she sahys. I have been making a mistake. ‘ I apologize.’ ‘What,’ says Hume and ‘do not mention t’ says Flora. Amy then exp;laians. She sa, what elese is a cause of the articulation of an iu,pressions as it reaches out across other impressions: That is as it demands that others are lent its vivacity. That is each impressions, as its reaches into the imagination, bedamnds other impressions: if you link its elucitable self (and ony impressions are such a self) demand that it is not alone hence perhaps the fat that it occludes, that it is finished, but we must retrun to that popint elsewhere. Each impressions then in posting itself, postis an effect it will have across other impressions, across time. That is it postis a viacity. Causality, as Flora understands it, role is to articulate that vivacity, by pitiching the same perception across Many others; both as a ressembance and a conguity. Thus far it merely involves the interlinking of this multitude. Possiblity then former te counter point in thissituation. Possilbities role is then to almost take a complex causal realtion, and to delimit its scope. A causal realtion between sucessvie perceptions, is in such a case torn asunder from its suceding implications, the loins share of whose vivacity goes to another set of impression. If you like possibility pitches the sequence of impressions . It becomes delimted in its effect (as an impression limts itself; And It then will repate itself within others, and yet only do so at the cost of losing its vacity ( hence Flora is right, the not of a possilbity still postis, but no as strongly). But this last point does notmatter so much. The point, amy goes on, is that Causalities role is, as we have said to artcualte the the internal and external relations of a set of impressions. Its task is therefore both to allow the vivacity of a certain set of impressions to grow or to shrink, and to understand the consequences of these relations. That is, its role is to conjoin ressembance to a contiguity, as a relation of the past to a relation of the future: causality . The fact that impressions reach out both to their immediate succeeding impressiosn (in the form of vivid simple ideas, and without ever being confused with them), and then reach beyond these ideas,to other more remote set of impressions (and their ideas), is then givien a meaning. In this regard, the possible is that which is a ressemablance n occurrence (so one knows one is enmeshed within a certain ‘known’ sequence of impressions), and yet contiguous in outcome, as dfferent ideas could equally result, and therefore lie side by side in the mind. However, Amy continues, looking at the still centre stage Flora, it is clearly bootless to ask how the ressembence or the contigous elements are themsvles formed ( Nor Amy adds, was it Mr Hume’s job, as he saw it): tah tis how and why they mean something. Hence, Amy argues her worry that Causailty needs to imply that the causal elements are enmeshed within a a ressembling contiguity; and therefore the problem of where that aspect arises from (while its two elements stil reamin different), is itself misplaced. It is obivous one can not understand exactly how a ressembance creates a ‘ressembling contguity’, while still leaving its units merely conjoined (and therefore never synthesized).: or how a contiguity inhabits ressembences as a possibility ( as Pancks inhabited the resemblance of names, of Clennam and Dorrit to the possible owners of a fortune).; until one has thought rather harder as to how ressembalnce and contiguity themselves operate. The role of the cause, or of Flora is not herself to construct the condtions for te other to principles (and if she did so, she would very certainly be moving your thought off into the domain of Herr Kant); but it rather to articulate the conjoining of a certain ressembalnce to a certai contuigty. Her problem here is then not directly one vivacity, so much as those quiet and unheard elements, which one cannot quite yet see. That is, in the noise of resslbing and contiguity, the quite confusion, of impressions, which necessarily lead into one another is all too easily lost. It is Flora task t correct this fault. “ Take”, Flora interrupts here,” the my point about Arthur. My problem was alwys was that there was so much never quite said, and this so complex. Remember here, that this as yet unsaid element, the causal chain thought otherwise was also in arhur. He hd had the same set of epxepreince, and was likewise orering his world by them 9hence falling for younger women, particaulrly Minnie ‘: No! What? Surely this is scholastic nonsense, and quite unintelligible, what do you mean by these quiet unsaid elements? How can a t thig b unperceived, if perception loine matter?’ Amy replies here, that this is simply an implication of making perception alone matter. If their was a world of objects beyond the mind things might be different, as perceptions task was different. The point here is though, if one takes perception to be essence, than any one simple idea, or even series of ideas , as it lies in the mind (that is as it involves vivacity) will be able to hook up into a variety of very different contexts, and so has many possible dimension of its own. Thence oe mkght Amy supposes, say that causality is specualtivee in that it asks ‘ and what follows from’, a certain set of ideas: that is, it defines a condition, in which a certain sense of perceptions can once again, in a slightly different context repeat their order (althought it assumes certain realtion of resemblance and conguity to do so). Hence, Amy then add, Hume own very perceptive calim that one never knows whther a impressions might tur int a cause. It lies their in he mind either singular or in a contigen series, a chain of simple ideas, and it is causalities role to then pitch this sequence across other impressions, other thoughts. Flora exaolain, whgart you must see here is what isarticualtesis the possibility of a causal realtion. Each such relation, looks to other sequences, and finds it the way it ressembles them, and therefore defines the sense that t is their cause ( hence your tieing shiftis in the exact nature of a cause to shifts in the ressembling perceptions). Take as example my own experience of Arthur. My young life with him, was perhaps, if I thought about ti a life of empirsionment. Each of us were caught my our parents. Each of us looked to the other for Freedom (do rembmer here that when showed around the house by Arthur I wiehd to see the cabinet in which he was often imprisoned, or at least taken from me- 650). The viacity ofour imagining was then already a fiction. When it was occulded, and our hopes dashed, the sequence of our imagining, of our hopes to esacpe remained. They became , in me at least a complex idea, which then looked to other sequences to define how it was being repeated. These other sequences actually eventually included the memories of tha tiem themselves, which became order more according to the romances we had about ourselves, than what actually happenes. Hence the three stages of my life I outline to Flora: The Dream of Yong love, the Stae bride, and Mr F’ relict. In each the same squence, the same link unpealed from itself, its own meaning. That is it define within its order the realtion between other different impression (and could do so because I suppose both ressembalnce and contiguity are complex, but I know nothing of this –Amy nodds here). My point is that the I operate by opening up the possbilty that a contiguity can be torn from the order in which it happens, and can reapt, as long as it finds a new means to ressemble. Nor Mr Hume, should you think this so very onesided or odd. Rembmer it was not just I who simpered at Arthurs, as my younger self ound in his presence cause to think again of our elopment. Artheuir also lo0oked at me with P:ity. He sequence, his causal chain had then had an effect of its own. In looked with the eyes of Pheonix in a fog. That is it was reborn itself on shifting sands, sands that meant its memoris for me were insired by a pity,, which of course rembmer and incduded also the old love we had for each other): But also elsewhere included the love reborn, in that Pet (who ressembled me, and in another who he eventully married. He was both in looking at me feeling tht he, not I was reborn, and yet not knwing what that meant as the sequence of ideas that was our love culd not in its current causal arrangement givie him enough clues). A In my case I was perhaps more honest, or less befogged. For me all the progressive satges of my love remained seprate (unlike Arthur, who ou rembmer was tying to develop somekind of account to his liofe, and to givie it a reason). I was at once tLoves dream read the pity as rembmered love: A dream that rembmered our imaginationing as if they could now happe n again, and all the more so as the elements which stopped then, my father and Mrs Clennam had no power over us now. But I was also the statue bride, who accepted the realtiy of different elements in the series. The occlusion frpom love (that is our parents powers and rights); and who then determined to live in the context of tha occlusion. The sries becme ten as it were a conseqeiunc eof love itself, and allowed me to explain what I as doing with Mr F, why I married him, and the differnce between that marriage and our earlier romance: The same basc sequence you see. The same set of impressions (andtheir hopes), but now cutting qute nother way. Or again as Mr F’ relciot (whichwas how Arthur first met me) both ideas, both sequences how existed in ny mind (as both had been cut uf). The be hs relect was then to be moving between two different time. It was to be the mermaid Arthrs minded s very much. But this was now simply because to rembmer one seqence as to be in th other. How could I be anything else? What could I do but attemot to explain the situation to him, and hope thati in the expalination something might be resolved? Hence when I say that a habit is a mermaid mind, this is complexifies in that their I no stopping of the memai. O breed a past sequicne which order other worlds (a remark who falsity you yourself note), is to breed a monster. The problem is that it opens pout n rssembance which never (quite) rssemble: Or whose difference is blown clear apart wihin the series which is in both of them. To be a mermaid is then to breed the enigmatic monster of a memory that one believes must aise again; but also to be open to the prolems of the doubling up of that series, which will remain enigmatic; the same series in different agglomeration, different conjunction, of the mind, with the result that amermaid itself redpubles at. In my own case this was the point that Pancks, that engine of contiguity intervened. He renders Flora, as Loves dream inert (or at least should do). Douce and Clennam, and Arhur’s action, seem to preclude Cellnam and Flora. Or a least it woud have done if Mr F’s relict could have by now bared todo so. She cold not, that then used, in the form of another aplogy, allowedthe Young love (via the statue bride) some calim over Arthyr’s absence.But notice of course that hs was not itself enough.The Flora Arthur then goes to ‘visit’ in his quest for Miss Wade (which of course links back eventually to pet), is a Flora in a minor key. Young Love, is really fading, as she knows she cannever be. Arthur of coruse has little sympathy here. He does nto know whatto do within this love does this Pheonix in a mist ( I proud stmache he has, this chap, too proud of his love to understand my role in it at least, he did not even realize the link between my gladness to see him, Amy and him at this point, besotted as he was with his own Love’s young dream, now linked to a faux marriage with pet’s dead sister: I for one would rather have bene the mermaid, than the self-allowed Ghoul!). However, what matter here was not so much he hope I also allowed myself in meeting; I found a new way boh in myself (and perhaps for Arthur) to allow him to understand the nature of his Love. Both because in looking at me, and thinking of my resemblance to Pet, and his love for Pet, he might have seen that Love was hopeless, or even founded on the imagination, on something which if it is mot a mermaid is a ghost bride. But also in loking again for Arthur, find what I did not know, the honourable reasosn for his return into my life: that is I found out Amy. “ This s all very well’ sauys Hume, “ and do doubt your life as you lived it was tragic. No doubt he chain of causes does as you say find weird ways to repeat itself: I suppose there is little or no reason, givien the viviacity is an appeal beyond an idea, and linking to another, the same might be said of a sequence of ideas: Each sequence is then a cause in that it is pitched into other sequences. In that it order them (in someway). However or three things follow. Firstly there is a clear problem about what makes the cause special. I m ean in oyur reading of it, it is basically a species of ressembalcne, which of course allows the causality to itself repeat. What makes it special prey tell: or have you simply lost sight of the difference between principle. But befoe you answer this question I think I need mpre order here. You said, that there were three points under this third element of causality. So far we have had, which wa outlandish enough, where are our other two then?. To this Amy replies. She says that the first point resolved around that illict entrapement of merely contigous events that appears to charatcerize a cause. A connection becomes then pitched as if it were capable of functioning as a resemblance: And yet this move is made without alny synthesis. That is it is not that a simple one is born, but rather than synthesizing; and therefore lacks any real interior logic, beyond the sense that it repeats. This sense then allow this complex double conjunction, which of itself cannot be simply occluded, but only replaced by a more vivid impressinon. Anmd yet this occlusion wil lonely operate because the occulding idea is more vivid than the occulded, even as it lends the occluded idea aspects of its own vivacity: it is then all to easy fot he table to turn, and the occulded idea, gathering ts strength from elsewhere, from perhaps scoeity opr money, or circumlocaution, to retrun and occlude in memory at least (bt perhaps a different reality) the idea that appearently replaced it. Causailty is therefore error prone. In that I creates a spilcing together a double conjoing of diseprate elements, once it is thought it ggrow in possibility across other perceptions . Here one should note a real; sublty in your work. That growth necessary includes the impressions that gave rise to it. As it remains of itself a mere repetion and therefore different to them. hence, perhaps the importance of the repetion of the idenitical, the same perception in this model (a point tha of course excite so many misguided criticis). The point of this repetion was that the first case, the setting up of the cause, and the breeding of its mermaid, of one time into another, was itself illict. The ressembance, as think we will need to discuss latter includes the first case. Your point then was that once this first case was given the ideas that existed in the mind were essentially already caught up in an axis of ressembance. Each ideas (as it was involved in causality) was not itself (for it leads nowhere or better implies nothing save itself ): the ideas are then held within causality, that is within a chain of events, as the ideas within that chain essentaily ressemlbe the impressons that firstly gave that union. Each idea in cause in then already not quite, as it is in the cause itself, the same as the impression from whih it appears (and to which it is essentially identical). Hence the opening move in causality already involves ressembling elements: or perhaps better elements held in ressembling. It is then this holding, this factor of ressemblin which no doubt articualres the causality, and allows I as an apparent unit (which is nonetheless made of many parts) to find new ways to repeat what it appearntly is. That is, for you the identical (that is all idenity) is essentially already caught within a ressembling, which includes its first giving. To make cause turn on resseemblance is then here merely to formally acceptsthis point. Hence the importance of needig to think about resemblance in defininf how the intensity increases. This then , Amy contues, leads to the second point. Kindly notice that this does not mean the caisailty is identical to the resembance. The causaily defined the flow, of the seqence, and in doing so demands that this flow should follow a certain direction, (and as it does so this means that these impressions merely become resemblances. Nor of course are causalities contiguities, which know nothing of any direction, but freely enfold all tlments and all parts as they move across thinking. But where contiguities and resemblance celary have a power is over the matter of possibility. It is no doubt the role of ressenambce to intensify certin dimensions, and thereby, effect exactly what elements are felt to be more vivid (and what not). in the same vein, a ressmabnce no doubt warps the cause, midifying it in the giving (hence in importance that the first move is already essentially caught up in a resemblance) Likesie Contguities have an importanc because they represent in their giving different elements, different possible futures and therefore formalize that which resemblance, via causation give. But also, Contguity ha another role to play, this time is striping apart the dimensions within a ressembance. Two elements might be taken to ressemble one nother, and so taken as evidence within a causality, and yet not be so. ‘Here Flora interrupts’ take Pancks shpwoing me of the fact that Clennam and Doyce were in business near by, and renting from my father, but still that I had had no visit. Their proximity, there link, showed me that Arthur, that is I must say here Mr Clennam, was totally not the man one of my habits took him to be. He did not ressemble then the man of my young love (or even rally the Staute bride) and a chasme had opened between elements which appeared so very close ( I latter told him he only visited because he wanted a thing, but I did not add never gave me th credit for the doing of it)’ Amy the contines, arguing that she supposes in a sense at his point a contiguity here clearly operates against the flow of causality (hence the difficulty Pancks had in pursuadiung Flora of the existence of Clennam and Doyce): it role is then to pull apart what resemblance out together (which of course then has it own effect, in tha the pulled apart realty becomes a causalty in its own right,or at least demands one. It is then proved to be (por not) in events: that is, at it remains the case… “ And’ interjects Flora ‘ also demands its own itnerlnk to al lthe cauailties that went before (which of course will allow them to thrive agai in new, if illict ways: The problem is then o stop this. How That is the problem is how one allows the contiguity to be a difference, if it is clear hat possibility by itself cannot do so, at least not for causality. “ Amy, however quietly is not to be so simply stopped: She turns again to Hume, and sums up, by caliming that the first point then saw causality which implied a repetion, in its intial instancequite as much as it is in its subsequent giving. That ask whether something is a cause is very deeply ohave transmuted a mere contiguity into soemthign else, something that is already ressembling, and looks to other poccassion (although what those occasion can be reamin hidden, and ven more problematic, flexible. Each such element is then necessarily looking for diverse elements to exist across (including other straight reptions of itself). it cannot think itself save in these suppositions; and mere possibility is to this degree an effect of other principles. Causalities grasp o the possible is essentially rather weak. It certainly articulates the ressembances as te past, and the congiguities as the future, and soexpereinces the possible in the differences which can so readily be produced; and yet exactly why these possibles exist, and how they are jutxposed by it, reamin the provinc of other principles: For Flora herself only knows the came of popsiblity and appeal, and not ofhow the different conseqenunes themselves arise. How one thiks thinks dimension emerges in causation most readily in the second point (which was the third in ou intial discussion). How hcan a causality b pulled apart from within. The answer was by setting up contiguities within the conjunction of ressembalcnes by which it is constituted. Each such resemblance will then demand an appearnt resemblance of two thoughts two dieas to be pulled ‘forever asunder’. Ressembalnce by contrast merely warps the same elements (and thinks of point in hich the same realtion could be givien answe, and at different times). Hence the first point the And is articulated in a posstive foce. The And becomes therefore a sense to ochestrte a double se of conjunctions. In the second the And become deompitional. As two events are held in contiguity one has one event or the oher: Or one even and the other ; but then that other is removed, at a time torn asunder, and so different, even thugh that difference is itself then caught up in new causal realtionsof its own. ‘Flora then contues ‘ The problem then in this second instance, is the problem of how can causality re-assert itself. Or rather, far better, how can it replace itself in soemthign else which hile not beng it, does not destroy it. Thjat is how does it allow the flexibility the contiguity of its impression: wah tan be left. My answer came from an unexpected place. Of course the meraid could and did rebreed itself (how could it do otherwise). And yet in this breeding, something else also was possible. But that was nt the answer. That came from my father. It was He who sad that …I mean Arthur not you or Mr Clennam was looking worrying about Little Dorrit. I thought no doubt as a journeyed out that Little Dirrit was merely yet another way for me to increasemy desire to think Arthur. And yet of course his was not quite the case, and I discovered(even as Arthur did without realizing it) something else: is discivered Amy. It is then this discpovery I think mr hGume hat anwers you second problem, You askes in what sense does casuality reamin a orinciple of itself. That is by what sense does it reamin a genetle foce across which impressions or better, section though ideas are strengthened, without ressembalnce (and its atendent erro), this is now the answer, it si from my relationship to Amy that I becoame a little freer frm more trajedy I better tell you how. Amy interrupts here, she has noticed Flora shows signsof working herelf into some condtion. The point one needs to rember, she says is that causality consists one the one the creatin of an imagination suh as Arthur was for Flora (or me). An imagination , which turns as contiguity into a ressembance (which includes even the ideas which rembmer it): it is this element that finds other ways to give itself differently in varying different formulars, and across numerous different contiguities. If you like it is spawner of subsequent contguiities, whose pattern is gives in someway. The contiguities then operate as habits in their own right. Becoming vivi or not, and perfectly possibly spwining their own ideas. On the other hand, each causality opens itself up to a particular critique effected upon in by contiguity. Not only can any one o the varying different sequences that compose a hbit be pulled asunder, but even more problematically if one ever attempts to clim that the habit itself is somhow natural, then the entire [picture collapses. This needs tobe understood in two very complex way; maner of thinking which Isuppose migh be thought to rest upon synthesis. . Firstly, if one takes Flora’s story, as it was told to Amy at first of her relationship to Arthur. This story, which seemed so true to he Mermaid herself, as she wippied herself into her condtion, resovled into nonsense the instant one attempt to make any part of it resolve into a whole. That is the instant one took the contiguity of facts, and forced then into relationship to a real story about a real Arthur, who remained somehow fixed acoss this movement (as You say Mr Hume one conceives a substance to be fixed). That is one gathers all there Arthurs up into one (or at leat assumes one can). This process in trun can lead to two problems. On the opne hand was the problem as Flor experienced it. One was not meant o mistake a belief for reality. It might be a version of the truh (and it was that or t least a reflection of he truth, just as much as my fairy tale about the princess and the little women was), but it is never the simple turth. Tah tis one cannot find a ressmblance which matches the congtiguity (and therefore allows one to found a simple habit here- ( Person Identity, Ay adds here, is a topic they will need to retun to much much latter, here she shivers with a memory). Alterntively one could move in th opposite direction, an move fom the local conguitie, in question of ressemblences. However, as you point oput so very well, if you attempt this move then all of reality simply collapses into aviod assumptin, and one drons within scepticism. One will moreover, by logic,m loose sight of where reality is pitched (which is of course on the level of the habit itself). Once again Amy says, tha for her this aguemnt clearly collapses into the intepentrable wrld of circumlocution, that the rigours of philosophical society. Hence Amy argues one cannot move from a fully defined contigous realtionation to an ressembling one, or yet hope to breed into that ressembling relationship a contigous one. And yet neither can, she then adds move from a fully developed sense of ressembalnce to the contgigous (or back again). If one attempts the former move from issues on ressemlbance into a contigous element, one will need to breed the idea in ones mind of a substanc, which starts of one thing, and changing too slowly for perception to grasp at, becomes although. This was of course what Hume wrote of ancient philosophy, but for her is givien in the hard walls of the Marshalsea, which it at once in a thousand different acts, and yet nowhere save its inmated minds (). Finally Amy adds ne can I suppose start with contiguity, and hope to find in resemblance something the explains it: this Isuppose was that case in your day with the Modern Philosophers and their solidity. Amy adds, that for her, the explain would probably be givien in bleeding heart yard: A Yard whose inamates felt a necessary solidtary within out another, and formed therefore a Body, and yet that solidarity was merely basedon proximity of circumstance and habitation. Hume interups “ May be I ccept this latter characterizatin, although this is not quite the way I agrued the point. I suppose yo have developed this element of the thesis from my contentin that one always adds exra principles? But n omatter, then point which underlies what you are saying is more or less well made. The attempt to synthesze the different dimensions of principles, and to create a false unity is mismatched. The Joy of causation, the joy of belief rests on the fact tha it needs to create no such unity. It simply and directly inhabits the space withnthese synthesize could so carefully and so ineptly lay credit to. Morevoer I notice somethiogn else in your argument, as an aside of which I approve. You spark of p[rinciples, and set haiors runiing in thought. This I think is key to ture philosophy for how the world is best by extra problems. The secret I suspect of both our reasoning leis at the same point. That while undertanding that explanations are tricky, and problems spawn themselves, that does not lessen to turhof the vivacity of the world. On this current point one move I think I was proudest of, was my defintion of the problem of a problem. Let me explain,, a famous Atheiest once argued that consciousness was little more than the idea of an idea, which was nonetheless pecualiary hooked up into reason. I move the argument to the far more radicale claim that to b self-conscious is effectively less an idea of an idea, but more a problem of a problem. Reason looks out of the world as its problem, a problem which can have no defintive solution; or at least one that will not pitch the mind over the abyss of specualation, as ou Athesist was forced to confess that if one hand an idea of an idea, then one had an idea of an idea of that idea and so ad infintum. It then behove Heir Kant top formally unit these elements in that Libniz notion of I Think or Aperception: It would be far better (if one insists on making that kind of self-consciousness the crutch to lean a thought upon, to claim the key to a mind if Promblematize! But I see we both sahre a solution here. My answer, and your (and even Flora’s) is that reality lies not in the consciousness itself, but in that elment that smallest pincg in vivide perception over which my conscious needs to enfold itself. Here I think we all agree, perhaps oddly, wih my famous Athest, you likewise argued that actually he mind was powerless as it was conscious, unless it had a perception before it. But I digress somewhat. For Me, the impaction of this last point is emourmous. It defined a human as being as part in two senses. On the one hand Huamn Belief is, as we are conscious of it is in itself composed of parts, but also a part within a wider belief (be hat ultiamely God or the Wotld or some such nonsense) but also a part in itself. Each belief, is as I say a throw of a dice. To Belief is then also to test, and have one hypothesis a part of the world (and therefore subject to its changes: A Belief is therefore necessarily not completable. Its movement to a predictive future is, carried out in th absence of the whole. Hence the importance which I stree (and my distress) at oyur failure to grasp at the nature of the possible. Surely it is only the possible that will allow beliefs to be ture., and it is still this possible that prevent ourGood friend Flora here fom being right. This becomes all the more probabe whn one remember the second aspect of being a part, the vivid. The vacioty is essentially soe,thing always within the part, and never to whole, and one lends toes vivacity to other ideas, which then take it u or no./ Possibility is at th jucture out of these two parts. It articulates the sense of a belief being o a part as that being a part involves a possibility. Or so it seems to me.’ Amy answer very slowly, she looks fa for, and says that she is far from happy within these twbeing taken as synomous. It is clear, sjhe says in the negative case that the two are more or less the same. If one therefre attempts to form a notio of substance, and by it means an underlying element which unites all dimensions of the mind and all aspects of conscious (and therefoe claimed to be a meta-belief) then this belif would itself, as it existed in the imagination, lack any conviction. It would merelybe words, without meaning, a creatre of reason. And yet it seems to Amy that this not mean the opposite is the case. On the contrary, it seems often the case that as a belief enfolds vivacity it makes some claim to wholeness: Likewise as a belief is a part, it clearly I open to the lose of vivacity. The two then are normally opposed, and opposed by possibility. Or perhaps., Amy suddenly wonder, that is what Hume meant all along. The point of possibility is that it is the sole element that articulates the differences between the part startus of vivacity and that of belief as itself a part. Each Status therefore commuinicates to the other across a filter of possibilities. The Belief and the Viviacous at then both allows to be giviers of parts because they only become wholes by reallying on th sense in whih the other is a part. Hence she ruges,the vivacious belief no doubt calims it whole status,is only givien by that which is always open to other moves, always essentially doing omething elese, articulating other thoughts. Likewise vivacity can calim no whole status of itself, as it it what is contained wihin sequences of ideas, what is aways constructing or critiquing customs, what is ensuriong hat these customs are never qute done with. This is, essential its reality. Possiblity then givies the sense that each part (which are themselves wha is constituting the idea ia caught up within the other , and therefore breakls the strangle hold of wholes which otherwise these parts cold be mistaken for. ‘Perhaps’ Hume replies.’ I think I certainly accpe that there needs to be caution in over quickly moving from belief to pure vivacity, which is why a laid such store by possibility. If one does not makes this move, and lay such a store one is of course open to a different (and very genuine) problem. Namely that one might hope to unit all thought is a single susbstance, which as you point out never does. The point then about possibility is that it forces the mind to realize the truth is not simply contained within it. The Union therefore of its vivacity and it ideas runs aross the possible, and can tell it nothing about its acive palce in the world. But once again all this is merely to explain my deep reservation at Flora’s chratcterization, nay attempt at uuruaption of my point of view. A beilf at once must realte to a things outside of be; and therefore to a probalblity, and canntp, as Flora would seem to want to argue merely realte to freqeuented (or even unfrequented) byways of the complex mind. Flora, who has from here postion been listening carefully her answer, or at wants to answer (if words were harder to find). As follows (or at least that is how amy exaplined her answer0. ‘ I would statrt I think with ths last point. The problem of ause, as we said right at the start was sotmhing bound p the problem of how one allowed something to stand externally from oneself. It was therefore caught up in the problem of probality and prediction (which makes a cause different, and demands a direction). But rather than start at the end poin in the process, the probalities whuich are created, Flroa argues one start must start as near to the begging as one can. One must ask, if one likes that question, the question of possibility,of how ideasand their vivacity are articult, and yet not be content with simply assuming one preknown. The point then about vivacity,as it know itself is that it must change exactly the sense in wihih a simple idea is givien in the mind. Hume afterall cheerpily admitted that a vivacity needed to be breed possibility, and Flora merely says this breeding needs to begin at once. A Vivaicty is then never the same as the idea itself, or the belief, but is always moving out from it, always dragging the belief behind. Conversely beliefs themselves can very easily chuit itnot vivacities, and poull what appeared so certin elese.’ Both Hime and Amy it hasto said are lost by now.Sp Flora starts again, starting this time from where she might have chosen. ‘ The problem is, the nature of this outside. It is not quteas simple as soemthign beyond peceptino, soemthign I cannot see. Nor is it existence simply a matter of possibility. To be strict, or Flora the possibility in an inbred effect. The External has, as she had reaptedly stressed two clearly diemension, fater their uinion in the impressions. The first dimensin lies in be simple ideas which it promotes within a mind, and the second its vivacity. For Flra the nub of causality hen lies in thinking thi external within ideas. hence the two element my Amy outlined about. A resemblance which ressembles the first ime time (an all subsequent times) and a divisibility at the hands of contiguity ( Fl;ora notes with approval that Hme has the second o thiese dimensio). These are She thinks merel the active cinseqence of the fat tha a cause realtes to an outside dimension, that cannto be very easily taken within the mind (it os not like medical Brandy). Causailty then is the arcitucualtion of this doubling. Poissiblity is one of int implications (as each resemblance ill contain not only man possible ay it can be givin, but also, as it realtes across other realtes, be open to the posiblity of either not being their (and therefore noy held in the mind ina doubt) or being there in part and not whole. Hence her problem that possibility I created within resemblance (only already ressembling thing are possible), with al lthe problems that leads to. Shje say then that really must exaplint his, fro her own point of view now, or they wil lnever stop this talk. Once again Hume does not let his pass. “ Before you exhaust anyone, Flora, let me explain to you what I think is the fallacy in what ou have just said. The problem of chance and proability clearly needs two slightly different ways of exaplining it. First onme needs to understand the operaion of chance itself,; but secondly, and even more importantl one needs to understand the differences beween that opartion and cusaility (to which it is nevertheless very closely related). I give the example of a six sided dye. This dye, wit two faes of one colur and four the other. If I throw this dye, it is obvious that any of six outcomes are possible (and are included within thechance of throwing). Here then appears to be a case of one of your ressembling contiguities. The throw has many possible ressemblences attached to it, all of which are possible. Now from the side of chance, that is from th side of the rality which omes out of the throw (the face which is revealed), things are a little different. If one thorw must occur, then one knows that this throw will stand alone from all the others. It will alone stand out as real. The mind will then, in viewing these chance, be indifferent. It knows that only one is going to happen, but as it considers those happeneing, or better the chain of events which leads to those happeneings, it cannot decide which. Seen therefore merely from the perspective of contiguity, the following of of a set of events one upon the pther (dice thrown, spins, lands face up) the outcomes are of equal chance. And yet,ios Imove back from the issue of the diece roll, back to te considering of the dye itself I see that it is not qute this simple. The Dye itself, of itself includes faces which as they are givien will necessarily ressemble one another. Each face, therefore, as it is recognized in a colour (and not merely a face) will then is assocated within a nmber of other faces, and onesidea of it will be more or less intense as a consequence.. The ye then is at onc the cause of the chance, but also the cause of the fact that certain chances are more likely than others. Te circumstance, the ressembling through then is both open in itelf, but also defines the occasion, the probability, by the very ressemblence that exist in it (but which would be meaningless without the throw itself). On the face of it, therefore one appears to have the kind of object of which you speak. Moreover this object is clearly defining a probality: The object, in this formation, which acts, (that is whose action ressembles many other action), and yet wihin that action creates optios for its giving, option that can then be taced bck unto the object itself. Unfortunately, for your argument, it seems to methat it is the second of these resemblance which is carried on into the world of causes rather than the first.. Let me expal;in. I draw a contrast between two possible ways one can understand a habit. it would be possible to understnd a habit as imperfect, in that one could be less than certain about it. One can imagine then a situation where a given habit gradually strengthens and modified over time. Lieing at the bottom of such an explaiantion are established habits, and near certain customs ( of the movig ones hand kind). In these cases not a moements reflection occurs between ones assum,tion of the suession of impressions. Viviacity is therefore naturally owned by the thoughts. Hence thiso the world of the Dye oll, which is taken as the paradigm., One assumes one is learning of that roll, even as it is made, and therefore models ones habits po that learing (and as always imperfect). The alternative takes seriously the problem of gathering vivacity, but also, and even more important the ideas that many different habits migh be caught up withinthe single impressions. A Single impressions will then be transferirring its viacity to numerous objects which might mutally occlude without being related to the same set of occurrences beyond that impressions. For example if when the um rises I always either run a marathon or eat an orange. Here then are two events whichdo not ressemle one another in the slightest, save in being linked to a certain impressions. And yet ofourse, by your explaination this impressions essentially is not even the same, or at least the simple idea of it. In one instance an idea is caught up in one series of ideas, and in the other then other (without ever being itself). The Sun, or better the sun light in this instance is not itself a habit, cannot be taken tobe a point of contact between th two (as your Arthurs liked up all the stages of you life). The perect habit hen that does re-assert itself, is of the most oblique manner. One sees light, and act in a certain ways. The relative strength of these ways is then indeed a matter for vivacity. Differing ideas will have differing strengths, ad the one that I do most often will eventually win 9although I think I accept that this is complex, and I eat only have run a marathin five times, and eaten an ornage ten thousand, and never at the same time, and yet always as I am eating my organg rembmer the marathon). But the point is then that the perfect habit is bred from the chances themselves, and not the other ways around. These then in this case no action beyond the suns rising, which is shared in the two, and yet possibility remains. Now you need to be clear wht I am saying. You cannot simply assert that both these two are the both caught up in the idea of he sun, which no doubt creates a ressemblence as it arises across th two, I freely accept it. But this misses the point of your own argument (although it rather favours mine). That is the consequences of your argument are surely that it is the contiguities which pought to ressemble one another a they are bound up, and these two simple do not, and all the same are bound up in the single habit),”. It is Amy who answeres. She replies that Hume’s argument is certainy a good one (although she might have wished him to let Flora have here say), but in the formation of a perfect habit based upon on two conflicting choices is the one Flora faces. Nor does she think their arguments are so very different, not that is unless he wants to revert to a postion, which m feeling cannot be his own . Here difference then from you is that she poses in the name of Arthur a single idea which encompasses this conflict. Now if your example, the role is clearly played by the red light of the dawn, Amy adds: This light takes ones min into two heads, and makes one thinks two elements a once. Once might here of course object that the red light of the dawn is a seperate occurrence (and it is), but the fact that it is in both sequences of impressions is enough to splice a link between then, and have the run caught p in strengthen the other even as it strengthens itself. If you thn say, she adds, that a difference reamis in that the suns light only infuses the two subseqeuelty. If one wants to make the kind of distinction that perhaps yu make here. Namely that the light only becomes signficiant after the events, then it striokes me you hve undermined your ntire potion. The point about the hbit is hat it inlves this beign after. The habit then of the light will run afer the to cocurence it is caught in giving, and the surreptitious link of thirst and exhaistaion it quietly breeds, so again there is no problem. But, Amy continues, if you criticise this move it strikes me you are imperriloin all habits. Habits are never worked ou before the event (which is hyu the dice thriow example is such a bad idea). Far more problemtaially they are constitutes within the sequence of impressions, and within simple ideas. If you criticise this now, it strikes me you are risking loosing sight of what really matter, an flirting with Heir Kant, who would want to exaplin wh yit does not matte. Hume quietly answers “ Is this this not wht yo are oing? Is not a resemblance an attemopt to breed an aprior possibility to habit? Certainly that appeared to be what Flora wants.’ Am sighs quitly here. But she has an answer. She argues tht one needs to be so carefully within the notion of apriori. It clearly means, for her at least two quiet distinct things. On the one hand there is the great formal metholdogy of synthesis as Kant presents it. This Amy has no time for.. On the other there is the far more sublte anaylsis presented by Hume. Hume’s point was, she always felt tht causes were given contiguities (such as the suns light or Arthur) an then aken up and transfigured into somehign quiet different. The point then about the ressembling contiguity was that it moved beyond any sequence of any impressions. It predicted something in the world (or at least it claimed to, or at least it had a pretence of claiming to). Moreover in this claim, it made a stange move, from past to future. The past being then here nothing ‘real, all the more so in that in being vivid, in being stronger, in it snecessarily mutiple (a mulitpilicty which is then onvyed to the future as increased certainity). The Past then here, and the future that expressed it, are then never ‘merely’ memories but at first a surface on which mutltiple brshes are, and secondly a way to articule multipicties upon tht surface according to their vivacity, and the expectation it. Amy he n remarks that she thinks, that her and Hume and others than Flora have very much to say about the nature of the incipions on this surface, but what that it does not matter here. The Point she argues that does arise from the last point is that the idea which is transferred to the future, the expectation, is never simple (as it is inspired by the ivacities of the past). But, also in making this move it attributes the movement to something else. “What?” Hume asks, eyes abablze. Amy is not startled. She had nt here at least, anything she thinks ukme would really disagree. He point, she explains is that the habit appears in the mind as soemthign that has happened. It is then an established sequence, a sucsom. It might be created within a time which moves forwards (or according to the rigours of contiguities backawards), in any order and yet is then remembered at another time to be only of a certain order. Perhaps one might say it adds a second temporal dimension to the status of what other called apriori. It is what must happen before, but also gives an order to what is. All habitual ideas are then bred within thime, and yet appeal beyond it. What Flora was creating in her notion of Arthur was the idea that is inhabiting the past and it creates itself a future. Her point, Amy says, or perhaps mne, as I understood it, was that this move called for an idea bred within impressions which was different to the simple progress (as it must include the ability to repeat within it). The Idea which writes in the past, is then open as ressembance in the wrining (even as it moves to contiguity). It the goes without saying that as the past itself is filled with elements: the image itpasss to he future is grealy strengthened. Probablity then adds an extra dimension to this process. Not only does one no longer produce the same elements. The past, as it recordsideas given to it in the present, will then have greater and lesser vivacities. But the idea which expresses the habit, still pertains to the future. In this case it will now express, as it looks on that past, many different possible futures: The Sun’s rosy glow is then as it is such an idea resonates Acorssthe chasme of different events, that is different futures. The present, gives a past which statters the future. But the idea which does that shattering was not of itself present, but rather, if you like resonates from the pasts, ans its contained vivacities into the future, with its expectations. The idea of the glow, and way it matters is then given across the two, as it is an idea enfolding the both. The sense then that it lies in the past and is giving a future is fundamentally probalisti, and is so as it contains vivacities.. It therefore matter not at all that is expectation, is bred within past, or even that it relates to many diverting memories: the idea was never simply their anyway, which is why you called it a belief. However Amy adds, that it seems not her, given that the idea never was real and always was aposteri, that it was bred within the mind. Morevoer, and her Amy looks to Floara as she continues, it seems to her that Flora hs developed a new aspect within this idea. Arthur artioualtes not merely a stable sequence of probalbities, but rather opens out realtinos and reflection between differing past, and differing probabilities. To be a mermaid, to be Flora looking at Arthur to have an idea which links to many pasts which areunited in this idea, in this mermaid ste alone), and with them a a shifting kaleidoscope of futures which they infer. Habit then stops being in to of three dimension, but acquirs a fourth, where the causes it looks too become intermeshed according the the rhymths not merely of the flow of impressions (alhtohygh, as Amy says she is sure Flora is aboiut to argue this flow is important) but also according to the rhymths which of the vivacity of memory (and its imagination) themselves. “ Arthur’, then like becomes like the rosy light of dawn itself, a bridge, ia truly cestial body, whose privelledge lies in its abilty never to be simply within one paticualr habit. Hume has listening quite careully here, but is firmly unconvinced. He repiles that while Amy’s discourse no doubt has is own charms, is really will not do, as she talks as if he did not kno all about Flora and here while aleardy. On the contrary he says he considers her nature very directly when he came to consider the problems of unphilsophical probabilities. Here, he claims he agued that it was frequently the case that ideas will arise unbidden and illicitly take over elements of the vivacity of impressions. Not only will any train of circumstances have additional perception that occur only once or twice or just just occassionaly when a certain train of thought is developed. But also (and even more critically) certi cirumsatnces will lead one to have a train of ideas, which thoug incorrect, will be strengthened by the mere propostion of those circumstance. He himself, he says gives the case of a man hanging in an Iron cage over a cliff. His ideas will tell him that death is near, and the perception of height and the normal assocated danger of a fall. This feeling, will then excite a passion appriorpiate to it, a passion that then elivens the idea all the more, which then ingnites new passin, until a man does not know quite where he was. Hume argues Flora I like a women in a cage, whose fall is named Arthur. The only thing she appears to have added to this circumstance the extra error of allowing it to occur notsolely through passion (although passion was inlved) but also though the very vivacity of imagination, which warps itself by its own internal dimension. That however, hue argues does not stop it being an error in he nedd of correction.. Noris such a correcion he thinks so very hard. Ll one needs here is a modicum of reason, which must ask whether the operation of imagination follows the regular dictates of understanding or whther it is running against all established principles of humans (150). That is it is the role of such reasoning to ensure that any diverse imaging conforms to the most basic and introvertible of habits (such as the sucession of event, the temporal order n a cause, th need for direct perception, and that it changes itself accdoring to an established connection between cause and effect). All these ruleare then clearly laid out in the mind by long, long custom, and if any thought transgresses them, as surely Flora’s Arthur would, then it must surely be at fault. And yet note in the recourse to reasosn has another advatnag. Eachelement of th causal chanin, as it follows resaons guide, will the indiscernible from a vivd impresisosn. As such, not only will each element in the chain then play an active role in supporting the whole, but also eac could in other circumstances be also caught in other ideas (and very probably is). Even as a tuth is affirmed therefore, the very engines that produce tht truth reamin also creative, and do so from the very criterior which allowed one to know at all! From which it then follows, Hume adds, that each true chain of ideas is innately probabilistic. Each elements is nto only independent in its pown right (and therefore couldso easily not be there) but also is ebing there at all, could always becaught up in another sequence of events, and therefore quite another explication. Or agaian any one asociation will appear certin to the mind, and yet another circumstance could arise where the cahin either does nto follow directly on from its supposed supostion or the same cause produces quite another effect, and so there remains a real tension, a real creativity within any causal chain. That is alsoways the possibility that the link are not as simple as one might suppose, and that othyer causes, as yet hidden, or even occulded within what one appear to know (that is the habits which appear in the mind) might well emerge. This Doubt is then here not of the corrosive kind that rives a man wild with vapid specualtino about the nature eof relatiy. On the contrary the doubt, the problem is itself sponateous and constructive, in that it leaves always open the possibility tht other ralites emerge within the truth which appearsestabliehd. One does not then go from apparent certainity (or custom) to doubt and fear, and the cold laughter in void ofrational scholastic supposition. On the contrary one moves along a far smoother path of reasosn, where new turhs emerge within what appears to be tre, and new ways to link established certainity (though what they have in common) are slowly forged (174-175). Hnce, and here Hume tuns to address Amy very directly, your characterzatino of thought was accurate in thatit considere imagination (which I dopubt not works in thi manner), an yet failed because it forgot the importance of the impression, and the modicum of doubt,. And exernality (for the want of another word) it introduces into the must established of sequences. It is this diemenion rather that the ones you developed under the name of Flora (which appear to me to the contary to be all error) which surely must be the added dimension to thought. This might have been said to Amy, but it is Flora, moving backwards sotat she very directly faces Hume, and shields Amy from his glance) who answers. ‘ Spaking as the daughter of the Wooden-topped Catsby, the partirach of time, a see a problem in what you have said. Your remarks , I note founded within a strange paradox. On the one hand you argue that objects arenever contary from one another save in the matter of their existence. Hence there is never any reason why two apparently distinct elements might be conjoined wihin thought. Each conjunction therefore emerges as it were out of the dust of existence. Each impressiosn dies and is reborn within a conjunctio, as an idea in a conjunction. Your strength of mind is such that you leave this thought there. Different impressions (which are called here objects) are then allowed to be conjoined from their very grave: So better they haunt thought in the form of simple ideas. Reasosn of cause naturally will accept this move, and will not for two distinct causes. On the one hand this conjunction across eath, will in reasos’ eye require its own exom,aination. On the other, this demands will be further intsnfied because, for reasosn there is a deep assumption in what yow say. In making these remarks you clearly argue as if impressions where already the object. Reasosn is likmely to challenge this oddest of apparent principles, and claim the very point remains that their objective status is not yet givien, and therefore is that which must be synthsizied. We are here aware that this is not quite your argument is for you impressions are literally givien, and therefore ogiven complete and finished in the instant v- and so to a degree at least self occlude, or rather have the reason for thein occlusion in their giving; And that as you clearly have argued that object follow reason, the point would be for you muddle headed. Reason therfore realizing this ought to make obects account for perceptions (and undrstand your mean that way). However, once reason is allowed such a scope; it will look at this remark, and demand that perception itself be made to accout for the creation of the objects they appear to give. All the more so becase in your critique of Amy here, you have allowed reality the extra power of apparently underlying perceptions. A thing must be held to be true you say because of its position in a sequence of perceptions. Very well, then says reason, is reality have such a power even over perceptions, it must be that perceptions, and their existences are somehow following reality, let us work out what this power is, and why it has it. Moreover this move in turn will allow reasosn to answer the paradox of the non-existent impressions (that is their simple ideas) being apparently conjoined with one another. In the gap between the two, that is between the non-existence of successive impressions in any sequence, and the conjunction o the simple ideas associated within such impression is a causal series, reasosn and undertanding set up their store (and allow my father in). your rich statement as t the nature of Being (nd the potency of non-existence) is then drowned within a phenomological instance that objects are the products of perceptions, and are therefre only givien within me. Hence you sudden realiance on the realworld, re-opens that old philosophical chestnut of how that world actually is (and the parallelism which is then thought to support it): my father always smiles so very bevelopent in the void between reality, percepion and idea: Where perhaps his ‘benevolent’ gaze the sole constant element. The problem in th matte rof causation is acute. The cause, as yu and I understand it (by perhaps Amy here never quite will), is that the cause demands something additionally to the vivacious thought, in demands an enounter with the external world, which is itself neverthinkable in terms of the perceptions it arranges, or even simple vivacity. This was my final thought in the Pie Chart. Or rather it was the final thoughts of the Clever Mr F’s aunt in that shop. She is a woemen one needs to rembmer who is marked by her liveliness; although that being lively is clearly of a very different kind to that of Amy. But the Aunt’s point was that the present which you and I are talking of (but not Amy, she was only there at the start) I the present the Aunt, you threatened to from Him ( I thought Arthur, but I was not sure really) ‘out of the Winder’. The present is then given in causal only in the throwing: probality is not the sametherefore as the vivaites. Or to put the same point better, one needs to distinguish the fact that each perception is unique, and therefore at any one point something new could so easily emergre (as The Aunt knows): Amy power thoug lies in the fact that what ever does emrge needs to emerge an an impressions, as as such will alwys be takable up within iimple ideas, and alsway allowed to be a mind. If you and me wonder hat the wrld we do not grasp, amy does not: Shehas enough to do in the wolkd shee lives it, and rests assured that in all her actions, the power of the the little piece of acive oddness she borrow frm reality (and will always borrow), that is viviacity will be enough to see her through. Causality then, which I think is model here by its nature asks more of impressions, more of vivacity than it givies (this is the point of our beliefs), and one simply must not mistake that additional request with the viacityitself. Think again of me, in my final interview with Asmy. Here I come o two quite distinct resolutions., On the one hand I say that I will sentence my habit to the past. It will be a withered chaplet I wear (with Priude). Here I still make our natural error, I assume the passage of vivacity, the passage in terms of amy and the outide are one and the same. I therefoe envisage mself all proud, boasting almost of my distinace, and of times having fled by. I boast as if things simpy passed out of existence herefore, and have all the pride of creating a present which appears to thnk that oputside. That is until that clever old Women, Mr F’s aunt put me straught. It it not fo me to simply wear this chapelet as it it beleonged to soemthign else. The outside as you and I look for it is not to be supposed in this manner. She says that rater one must understand it not as a flown, so much as a defenestration (if that I the word).She says then that she will ‘ Chuck HIM (I never knew who, but thought it must be Arthur) out of the Winder’, that is if only he had the temerity to come before him. She then drives Amy away, and leaes me to my own creatured comforts (the extenraliotes of the bottle, hichsurely is the most intoxicating of extenrlities in that it slightly distorts what is), and which Amy herself always rejects. Doyou see my point?’ Flora suddenly asks, sacred she has once again lost everyone: ‘ The outside of the cause, which knows it deals in the outside world, and th outside that Amy wenders her way though are as different as yh Aunt and Am herelf, and you risk the confusing of the two. And I might say no wonder. It is almost as it you wiflly starty at the wrong place here. What is special about perception, we all again agree, it has all to do with Amy. And yet one must, I think at least approach Amy from inside thoughts, nd only look beyond her in the guize of the Aunt. You by constrast want to pitch yourself, in the name of causes firmly beyond that sagious figure of the aunt (or even worse confuse her with Amy). But before I show this, as I am aware tht I have started at the end, as it were, and am moving now off in all diection; let me start at the begiing. Or rather the middle, for I Have a problem with what Amy herelf says here, as I think she has already allowed to much, in her taisl of due cause t you way tpo thinking.’ Flora, how absolutely heedless o the experesssion of those around here stumbles on” Perhaps the best palce to start is in another of your ideas; One that seems to be at once both powerful and yet more complex thanwho appear to allow. Your Claim is I think that we know that Ceasar. You argue that vivacity dictates that over time a long cahin of consequences, even though each part is truthful will loose its force, and decay, as eachtransition becomes harder to uncover within the hubbub of thought. Paths are therefore lost, or better confused and unhearable, as cause they posti is immediately whisked away in more immediate, more stident thoughts. The proboem then comes you say in the matter of history. How is it that one knows the historical happened? Whjy is not all idea of Ceasar and his world lost within he confusion of the succeeding aeons? Your answr is then if the most fascinating kind. You calim the reasosn why this is not lost was because the means which effected us knowing it has remained one and the same. Books, with orlds pretty much as the autho left them, have been passed across the succeeding gernations. For this reasosn, you suppose one has survied through times. How, speaking here as m Fther’s daughter, it would seem to be unlikely that things can be quite so very simple. My Father would no doub be present in these moves, making sure tht ach reflection changed soemtwhat the whle, and therefore what was relfeted out of time included extra elements, extra pointers or reflection of other times. As he did when he met with M Clennam, subtly re-writing history, o make himinnoncent (to a degree) of our enforced separation (it ios worth bain in mindin the ame converation, it was lear he kew nothgn of amy, and was merely here blind recommender, nd not her harbinger 140). However you apparently appear to ignore this detail. Perhaps however I know why. If one thinks what is involved in their being a book written or even many books in a certain timespan. One can clearly see tht ach suh a book arranges as it were a history of their own: They therefore opeate to gather that time into a contiguity, of interrelated events. Books that so gather, albeit seprated by many years will then appear togther to our minds and they are part in the same process, part I each others history. That is untilsomethign different happens and all these congtguities are kept aside. Each Bopok the gathers its time togther, thati gathers its sequence, and yet,in being a history at all, can be gathered in another sequence, as people gathered all my thoughts of Arthr into a life history (although I never quite said they were. This gathering willthen be all the more powerful as to us, removed as we are in time from other times, the varying importances of the time will be lost within the hubbub of each other. We therefore look to those times increasing in being a one (as it is in th that being one the most vivacity is itselg vien). Each Contguity which envolopes its epoch, by they an epoch of time or, as they were in my case the epoch opf a life), is valueble. One talks of the Romans, as I talk of the stuate Bide (nd loosessight pof al lthei differences). All this then is natural enough:These books then feel like a way of touching, or recording. It is this that is the sealed of from other thoughts. However this sealing here is then important. It is not because the book itself has pages however written (and whomsoever by) as it is this sealant within the contiguity of a book, or a epoch in memory, that allows one to undertand how the book survived. For that book has been written and rewritten across the ages because in each age the though the memorie of the previous time emeger, and matter. The thought then of this book, of this time (although the time itself was no more, an had changed considerably), survied ecause each time it effected anew. It goes without saying that my father hand’s might be all over the book. Othetimes are no doubt interferiong, and poking their noses in where thy are not wanted. But this is not the real point, as those hands are writng in this time or even rewrting it because of the effect it is having already on them (which they may or may not like). I mean of course the emroies, the books get changed, and yet the sentiment even in that changing must reamin the same. Or perhaps better, the very being sealed off the past, not merely limt the sense that the vivacities of that time fade, it also creates in the memory of that past a powerful idea, whose effect is then fellt. The fact it was of another time, then in that it challenges this one ads to the effect.’ Now it seems to me that this process becomes all the more complex as it is spliced dynamic of the mind. Much altter, you argue (in the conext of thinking passions) tha when one thinks about the sese the past runs into the future, one has to allow for a clearl direction to the process. Not only does the past, as Amy argued, exist in many sperate elements, which are then expresses I a single viviacity, but also that vivacityin the thinking naturally psses into the expectation of the future. The Vivacity itlf, as it were then transfers, and in so doing imposes a direction into time. The defining element in this movement lies in the nature of impressions. They are givien and gone, communicating to their futures their own viviacities. Hence, likewise the vivacity of te past, runs to a future in which it is givien.Now this giving of the future is essential no respecter of time. Fr me to see rthur again after so many years, was then for the habits of my past to re-exicte themselves, and turn to the future they had expected. If a habit naturally givies itself in a future, what elese cold yopu expect of me? But just as as important to note (givien what I just said about epochs being wrapped up in contiguities) that each succeeding memory ha past epochs infusing I, and pulling it in different direction. The Past of young love wa very presen in the statut bride, and I the relcit (although the exat manner in each occasion of course changes. As ones looks change, somewhat). Hence the Saxon who wrote that Poem to look at the of Rome, and for us to look at the self same ruins as both the same event (we look to ruins), and feel the same range of feelings; and yet the feeling we have (knowing the ruin of saxon England) is utterly different., stranger, and all the more intense. The Past;’’s own past, which is alwso our past, is therefore curious. My point here I think is that this curiousity is at once an effect of vivacity: this matter because elsewhile my father calims all the credit here, and wil say that bth pasts are held within his benevolent stare gaze. From which it then foloows that the past of the saoxn poen, and the past which is kindled in us including the saxon poem, but also including our own response to Rome, which is also reflect in the poem, is of itself a unique conmstrction. One needs to then to get all there contguitities wrapped up in a single web of differing: the sens ethat they are in the mind, that one wrapps up the other, is (beyond the mvement of viviacty) clearly different. That is the links and effects of each past (Sxaon own, our own containing at one point Soxan Englands and Reome, both standing alone and together) and the reality of Roman runs (and the life they kindle) reamin then different imagination, and should be so. That is one needs at this point I think to confuse the death of Roame, and of Saxon Enlgand, with our memroeis of them (whci to liken all the memroeis would surely do). This last point become s all the more important if one remembers its immediate consequence. The point, as you said of memory is to turn the mind from the past to the ffuture. In each contiguity (Rome, Saxon, us) there then exists a sense that each ast is at is givien turning towards its own future. One fees a very real sense (in the sens eof impressions) that a future is emrging on each of these plains. In a s snese as far as the memory is concerned it is absolutely natural that this must be the case: To think these thoughts is to givie that sucession. And yet this emergent future itself posess a problem it is both within the the natural trun of impressions, and yet even as it givies that natural trun would, is thought beyond that trun inspire the mind to mystery. In mean the event thesemvles asthey exist in the world, were of course different. Each impression was suceded by the next, without any cealr reason (which came only latter). Each impression as it turns to the future, as it givies the sens ethat it was occulded in it own uture, will the ru the ris of loosing that element (indeed as a simpl idea it indeed must do so). The Mind therefore naturally, from the postion of impressions alone, assumes that the mind is predestined to an action, and fails to understand how it could be otherwise At this point Hume looks suddenly very interest in Flora (it is the first time he had directly looked into here Eye” He interrupts and says ‘ this appears interesting. Strkes me you are making a fascinating, and very sublte disinction here Flora. On the one hand I see thatthere is the world of Amy in hich vivacity passes naturally fro cause to effect, form past to future. This process then has, as I have repated argues two dimension. On the one hand, as it is linked to an external perception, the process will feel contrained, as we attribute to another a creation of our own mind. Suihthen is necessity. Libierty then occurs when, those feeling are thought to realte to the human alone. Here again the process is identical. One learns in long experience that the same causes lead to the same effects (398-402). However in this case the process appears not to be directly attributes to somethign external to us, and therefore appears to us to be free, or better feel that the thoughts might have been otherwise; that there is nothing more than habit forming the transition . But this belief is by and large constained to the case immediately infront of us. For if we look back at the same event, and theefore locate it in the passage of past to future, of which you were talking, thn freedom breaks down. Unless of course we ask ourselves the question are we free. In that case one will of course feel one does indded have an ideas of freedom, in that one will choose, apparently unbidden some random act. But ont only is this choice merely because all option well in our mind equally valid, as there appear in this case no motive beond the supposed demonstration of our freedom, but whatever actionwe perform will nodoubt be predictable to others (or even ourselves whn we think our own nature), and is moreover itself motiated by a desire to proof of freedom: Or perhaps better, a desure to demonstate our own capricious nature! ( 408) Hence my famous argement that freedom and necessity is a matter of defintion, as te same process builds both. Amy, as you describe her, then does not care about impersonal freedoms (for she I the child of the Marshalsea), but rather only wants to exercise here movements form past to future: To do this is here is Freedom. A carful distinction here needs to be made. On the one hand there isthe freedom from external actions. This freedom is of course the one that really matter. A man in chains (or l;ocked in a prision) looses all freedom, in a way Amy ever didOn the other, there are of coruse freedom which are internal, to a degree within the process of thimon itself. I eman mere, that as habits are constituited in by custom, then as habits are formed within the mind, one can, toa degree at least link and relink the thoughts one has. The same thought might then be gradually pulled apart from what it context was, and new ways found to think it. Tehre are of course severe estirction to this rocess (which is cleary internal to the mind itself, and the movemnt of past to future), and yet within such parameters, there is clearly a degree f freedom in the mind here. Although no doubt this is less a matter of freedom, and more the matter that the thoughts are at this stage voluntary: one can then assemble motives (and may latter be condemned for not doing)so).: hence a man is less condemned for a hasty crime than a one that demanded carteful thought; and is moreover able to be forgiven, if the re-assmbles his mind (or the mootivies within it) anew ( eq161) It is then this assembling of motives that law makers play to, by adding extra motives to ensure acts such a theirfery or murder are not comminted (608). On wil llikewsie quite rightly judged the action of of others as indiiatvie of internal passions and affections of a particular character, and will be condemned accordingly.’ The Codmantin in this last respect is no doubt complx. I might will understand a human, and yet as they effected me ill wish to harm the. Buit even more substantively, once I udnersand their motives, and their action, might well know how their mind was built, and yet reject there actions all the same, and (when I compare them woith others, which faced similar circumstances) condem th way the voluntarily linked their motives togther. But More of this at other times I think’ Free will is then, followjng your distinction frequently mistaken for what it is not. On the one hand one takesthe unecessity of objects as they occur in the mind, as one clue,then the entire mind I made to revolve around external necessity, and we are simply the prprgamming of some greater machine. However to act ths way reverses the relationship of cause and effect it is not that the moral world turns of the phyiscial, but rather that once understanding of physical forces turned in the end on the same internal process which allowed one to think up moral forces (410). Alternatively one might, take the apparently mystery of the external world, as ones paradigm, and conclude from the mind can only understand the world by taking each moement afresh, that similar the mind (as a world in itself) must be constantly taken anew instant to instant. In such a case the mind would be as free as the ext3ernal world theorectically is fror u: it would have the freedom on being unknown save in the act of giving. Such a freedom ould no doubt be genuine as the mind moment to moment ould always be different. And yet by making such a claim one looses sight not only of the abilty to act or think justly, but also the very dimensions that make the mind itself, which surely only has reality across its habit (411)… At theis point Flora butts in: ‘ There is more here than this. I accept that as far as Amy is concerned, as on moves within habits, the past dominated the future (as the circumloculation office dominated her life); Thee are then always other possiblites, other dimension that an be opened up. But the miond as she givies it will not worry about the threadbare myths these other possibilities (maybe thy were gentlemen once) offer. Her concern is the very much with responding to the day to day. Her freedom, is then the freedom to act according to the motives and desire she contains. Her freedom is then to always exaggerate the useful acts over the unuseful, th postive over the negative, and the active over the passive. However I know, speaking from my own perspective that this is not enough for me, or I susepect you. Amy is cocnent to allowthe world its external existence and to dealonly withi that which umbles into here vivd thought. We though feel the need to look to that externality (hence perhaps what I stuill see as oyur confusion on this matter moreover it strikes me freedom, was we might want it 9but Amy would not) depends upon our creature comfort. ‘ How so?” ‘ The ase for freedom, as we might have it wants to move slightly beyond the world of established habits,. You mentio repeatedly that the body is com,posed of numerous spring and traps, numerous workings; and that similar society is highly comple and intricate, and full of process hidden to certain individuals (EQ 150-153), or even perhaps hidden to all the enactors (the mystery ofcircumlocation’ “ What of it?’ ‘ It follows then. Perhaps the mystery of the strange world is also taken into the mind.” “what?” ? o mean quite simply, is the mind involves a body, and that body has endless extra hidden process (which presumably may r may not continue operating as they do), then the mind is always openng up upon mystery, and strangness: the strangness that is of itself. The fact the world, including then our body is external, opens up as it were a new dimension to creativity. We do not ever know exactly what process asre caught in our thoughts (nor can we know). One caould then allow that the same thought coul always be caught p in other process; And amy will allow for this fact.’ : and how is this freedom?” “ on the one hand, one might perhaps start from the mind one has, and inspire witjin its action new and strange thoughts ( I bred th idea of Arthur). Thes houghts by themselves might be enough (as you say a mind is always colpex). I might react differently to the normal way I do, and bythat action interlink thoughts that were never quite interlinked, and yet which change everything. This might happen. I think Pancks will argue that it does. His pont being that this takes one into the clockwork of one body at a new place. But, for me,I think it more likely the process begins in the other diection. With the unknown’ “: Here, are thinking of the sequence I gave. I argue that new feelings are ofeten felt to be more extreme than I just. As ones friend or ones bod does soemthing which appears beyond ones experience (for whaterver reasosn)_ the mind is gripped in some passion, which overcomes its long habits, making it act differently . And so to influence the politican, who is givien to habitual caution, one needs to excite his curiosit to high pitch, and made him then act not according to his normal prudenece (420). To patially obcure is then I accept to highten strong passions: But what of it?’ “ The Body is thn themost hidden of thing, and yet the one surely most likely to excite strong passions. As either my body does soemthign I was not quite exepcting (ever by some third influence, or merely acrdoing to its own interior design) or whether, by some connection in the mind which took it beyond its established practice, it is easy to see tht I might very suddenly be enmeshes within all those clockwork working of the mind in a new place. And when I am in suh a new place, new and very strong passions will occup my nature.” “ Agian what of it. So you pass out of rationality, and into madness. Why is that freedom?” The Freedom come safter. The freedom does not lie in the drinking of the Brandy put its effect. For once these passions are, then Amy will sart to work here slow customs on wht it. I say’ “’ I say here many things. Firstly that novelty excites the mind toa violent degree, which absobs every othe thought and effling to it. Augmening in the process every pain and oubt, as well as every pleasure. Feelings whichthen you are associating within being in a new aspect of the body (and therefore being unware of how things here, in this new kingdom operate). A Link which can of course only reamin a plausible hypothesis. But I accept that it os so, or rther that caue must assume this pluasiblity “ it is then the role of custom…’ : it is then the role of custom both to lessen these affects, by takig then up, and blendin its vivacities into their nonvelty. Their force is then replaced by myriad new habits, and their novelty so lost: Pains and pleasures which had been based on novelty beome then wateed down within this vivacity. Or better the vivacity will have the tendency to increse what is active in new , while it reduces those passie element which arose merely from the movelty of the occasion ( 424): That is what I said’ ‘ But surely then then that the body makes the mind curiously free? A Mind can always uncover anew a way to allow its body to be (or could be complelled into that). Once it is in this new place, the same mind, from the acions of Amy, will the power of action, and decrease passions, in the new aspect of itself it has uncovered. Causality, in looking to a world beyond then poses the mind as free…’ “ But this is a strange defintion of freedom. It seems tantamount either to thinking the unknown, which is a clear insufferable parad, or merely an acceptance that things can always be otherwise, which is a bland platitude’ ‘ I know others than me will deny either option. That is not my job though. Will rather suggest a third optin. Namely that the odd in the bod, the novel might not be so very unheard of. Surely the point is what you say is that novleities abound’ “ I accept tha tone is not at a loss for them. But are you saying then, that one should experiment: to produce new novle thoyghts, and then trust to Amy o enhouse these thoughts, and pull out wht I good in them? I freedom of expereiemtnation perhaps? If that is what you are saying, then I supoose I will nto disagree, in that it is certainly true that this would be a kind of freedom.’ Flora here moscloser to Hume, close enough that he can smell the brandy, and says ‘ You are so gallant. Your reluctance here is of the right kind. You know that the freedom I speak here of, was the one soummed up by the Aunt. The freedom to ‘chuck’ and be ‘chcked’ out of the ‘winder’. The Problem then with novelties will be the problem of lessoning to them (Arthur for one never lessoned to the Aunt. Causailty must then avoid the triplet of problems you put so well. To be free through causalities instistence that there is a link to an external world, must avoid devolving into necessity, empty freedom, or partial freedom.’ “ What do you mean by that last one?’ “ The feedom on the mind,to expereiment does not lie simply in what it has. One is not free then in merely choosing between options the will gives us, as what the will gives always changes! This would be no freedom therefore…” “ The problem here I suppose is that it will be very easy to mistake the expereiemnt with merely the enslaved. How can the mind tell them apart, if one it outs noveltes? I added the provison here that philosophy was akin to hunting and gaming, in that it was an endeavour where the pleausre lay in the thinking, and yet one always needed a result. The Hunt and not to find or to game an loose money, or to reason and not produce a new conceptions, is shere misery (452). The point then here is sublte. The mere expereiemtnation is pointless, unless one keeps in mind the habit that one wants. On needs then as it were a useful fiction: The idea of where the mind will be, inorder to prevent a collapse into choas and unlimted and pointless enterprise.’ “ This is almost the one. I myself thougt the only save way was to follow doctors orders, and use only a little Brandy. I problemI suppose was always keepin it a little! The Problem is the habit to expereiment can become a habit, and one nose go so very red in the process! Here is what you mea. One must tell apart the which habit one is indulging. The Habit to experiement, the habit to act in expereiemtnation, and the results of those habits. The problem of course is whther the mind itself can ever hear that different’ Here a quite voice speaking stil lfrom behind Flora said that she probably, givien care wold that difference:But the process scared her. She new of more cases of wild specuyaltion that of actual use. It was bettewr then to slowly exapand what one was, than reasosn in this way, in this single throw. She also knows that Flora has much else o say, and suggests that they continue the conservation. Flora steps back to the centre stage(leaving a somewhat crushed looking Amy behnd her, and continues. “ But there is another implicatio in what I was saying, before we had our interesting chat about causality and feedom (an what causality adds to the concept). But my next point reltes to what you hen said about time. You argue that the past is different in the futurein a second way.The past you say animates thought more vividly than the future does as it takes more work to think back iontot the past than it does to think into the future.That is, the natural predispostin of impressions flies towards the future, and it takes much energy of the mind to get back to the times far gon. That is in working back to the past, one fles against, at it were Amy here. One is forced then to understand not how one event leads to another, but rather how the mind has changed, as it confroned by the unknown: that is by the fact that there was something, peraps as yet unbidden in the past, which changed what was (and cold always, perhaps have been different: Which could certainly have been different if things far enough in the past had been different: Hence Arthur’s mother might have behaved differently, eiher in the past we knew her, or to longer distiant past, the past Amy was a silent witness too!. To look then into the past, is tolook intothe face of a mystery. Hence it exictes the curioustiy deeply and makes us wonder, in the same way that the body makes one wonder….” ‘ No!” Amy asays’ this is noy quite true.’ The Wandering is differnet because unlike the former case, she has some hidden effect, even if hidden of Mrs Clennam. There might then be something past (something which links back to events of the past, and whose adevent lies in frea, for am and the death of some soul).And yet she is there in the past, even if that being is a provocation. More than that she wonders, it might in the end be the case that here present is what caught up in the curiosity in this case (and the estiamtion one has of the past. Flora sees here meaning here very quickly. Huke slightly moreslowly. Amy means that it was the engima of her presece whih a past, which first excited Arthur;s curiosity. The Oddest thing then in the apst was what was also the most common place. As Hume understoo it, this meant that one esteems the ncient’s practicies, their ahbits, in the knowledge that those habit are wjat creates, what are creaing. One does thins inspite of the fact that as one looks on the past it is not yet acting this way. One is confronting then at this point in the past an apparent srange conjunction of elements which then differ. The Element which forces one to come against the external: that is which gives, and demands as given in moving to the past, in which there is no reconcillation with events as it were: And yet are the same time, these events, in their habits will cotanin or at least come to cotnain the events whih then flow from them (and which seen the othr way seem so very natural).. The considering of the past I then a poin of strange conjucction, a point were two diverting elements become indistinguishible. Hume says at much, and immediately hen wonders whtehr it is then in the past that one needs to find roots for common causes. It is Flra’s tirn here to go whilte. She kows what this means. Amy shakes hr head,a nd speaks: she saysthat this cannot be the case. If the past made within union natural, it would be natural only as a synthsis, and therefore would allow Flora’s father to trimpuh ovr all. Her she cites her own example. Embmer she says that the secret Mrs Cvlennam told her, the secret of Arthurs illegitimacy, a secret which hung over the enitre book, was ultimately a seret that Arthur, on her marriage day renounced the right to possess; as soething that did not effect him. Am might then b present in that past. She might even be rquired to bidhe the gap between past and future: Mrs Clennam then ran to find Amy and dragged her bac o the house. And yet that union is only givien in the death of another, the death of the man you demanded the nion was real (and that he past be allowed to cast its power over the present). That is of the dath of my sol of identity. Amy’s point is that if one conmfused the element in the past, she is effectively caught as possibly jkilled in the run of the impossiblity of here meeting the difference between extenral causes and herself. She might then express a dimnsion of the past. She might givie its silet mystery. And yet she makes an absolute virtu out of he fact that what she does is diffwerent. That is the contrours in which one can see the past, are real to here only through here action.it is then these action which matter. It is then these action which make a past real, but more importantly then allow to move beyond it, and move into dfferent times. The mystery was then not the point of the story. Any fool (amy uses weaker langauge here, but this is what Hume hears) can write a mystery story, and see their lifes as a mystery to be solved. The genuis, for amy (althogh not or flora) to living then lies in having a happy endling without resolving the mystery for the central participatant of the mysterious process. The centre of Arthurs life, the focus of his story, was then dcentred from the eent of his birth: the great event of the novel, and rsts in Am,y alone. “ But how then does this past matter, for I feel in my philsophical bones it does’ Hume asks. Amy looks small and worried. She says in a barely audible voice, that one needs to be sho very careful here. Hume she calms was created a nearly unique account of time. Time is not a flow (a its basic parts neve flow, merely givien themselves complete)), nor by he same logic has it any truck with continuity Hume Nodds viogurosly here). It rather involves the transfer in the occulsio of the special element of impressions, their viviacity, a transfer which occur between self-sealed items, and imposes a direction. It is this dimension to time, this directed transfer which nevertheless lacks a dimension tha is so unique. Each impressions could create the opposite series of transfers, and yet the case remain that the direction would appear just as fixed and certain. This movement, this oddity of direction, orrather this fonding it in vivacity, is Amy suggests Hume’s greatest and most orignal idea. If one then merely argues as if time moving from the present to the future replicates the process te ther way around, then one has not only lost site of this genius, but also, and even worse in Amy opion, who have allowed Catsby th right to insinuate himself across thi continuity as its agency. Flora now adds here own argument’ Thinkthen of my case, Mr Hume.. I Knew of course hat there was soemthign stange in my situation. I knew I was caught I another’s causality. I called her as much. Fate in A Go-cart. That is a figure from the past which reched out and stretched over me, over Arthur, and pulled us away from one another. My problem was then that I let this knowledge or feeling or whathever define my realtion with Arthur. I allowed myself to be the Robinson Crusoe Money of his young desires (my own goodness of heart was caught there). I then could not easily understand what it meant for Athur and Me t be tormn from these thoughts, from these loves. I thought th tearing meant that I was in somekind of meta-event which overhugme, and dragged me his way and that. I hought then I was in the gripof a strange kindof causailiy one define in the effect it hadon me, ather than being an activie cause: For I knew that Fate in a go-cart does nto care for who is grinds down, was linke a juggernaut in that respect.) It was not then unitl I met Amy in the Pie shop, and eat three Kidney shaped one with her, that I reversd thisrealtion. It suddenly occurred to me that the past was not the sense in which I was Gathered. The causailities which I thought were mine, and were mine because of my realtion to Arthur (and not inspite of it). There was then soemthign still in that. He had originally come and seen me: he new I would to Amy good, when poor at least. Soemthign else then happened in that Piechart. I could where my withered chapelt with pride, as it was this chapelet that allowe dme to conquor the external part of my mind, or at least the part that remained uselfless and unable to comperatie with what else I was. The Arthur of my young dream, the Arthur caught in the grip of his mther, or his strange destiny, was on that day (or rather very near it), thrown out of the Winder. A different Arthur, and with his a different Flora ( Gallant not poo, able to enoy his wedding without pretence, although still with flutters) tyhen emerged thatvery day.’ ‘ Moreover if on allows the curious reversing to become the pattern to time itself ( I will say why it matters latter), something else also happens: What makes the mermaid so monstorius is only the eyes of another. In my full mermaid state, to Arthur say,, I was a hrror: A Block of th pst taken up and misued in his life. However to myself, as I hve sid here and her again, it was different. The meraid allowed be to think and feel to protect thoughts that needed protecting. The past as then my shiled, and not my monster. If then one allows that the pasts working back is the reality, the mermaid as monster (the Arthur view and not the mermaid as tool, as help me, become acceptable or even inevitable).Hence my father’s glee. When he said ‘this is flora’ he might as well have said, a the showman of Yore, ‘ Her is the bearded Lady, the giant, the mermaid, the monster’. For my father, under his hypocritical glare, I might have been truly monstrous, and yet it never quite felt like that for me: or better it was not light that for me, withoth the gestation of monsterhood (where quite other things were happeneing).’ It was perhaps the oddness of this last remark, which set Hume own mind wirringhere. He remember the diffiucltly he had when fist, at last, he Read Kant. Kant he thouight can mistaken Humes meaning, in that he ad taken seriously the external world. He had then asked himself the question : How is knowledge possible? This qestion had then become slowly a crystal of epistemology, in which both thinkers were caught : And by whose prismatic effect that very differences occulded, as reality was allowed to reassert itself. Hume’s only consoldation was here, that the move, heflt sure irritated Kant, who was no Epistomologer quite as much as it irritated him!). Kant had then injected anentire apparatus in roder to save the world, or better make the world aboput the truth, abou something else something extenal; The thing in itself, or some such mystery. Hume thought his own move wa so much more radical. He had taken as his starting point not some mysticial searching for truth (for he new truth was a fabrication of reason, one way or other), but rather the telling prhase of Berkely ‘Pecepti est Esse’. Hume had, he felt fully developed the paradox of this position, so intituitvely right, that perception, the abilty to be affected as if by another (whose nature is not itself directly knowable or even thinkable) is actually the essential dimension in existence. The Divide between the matter in themselves is and nes perceptin is not then the same as the thing in itself and knowledge. Here Hume rembmered he had himself notted with dry satification that Kant had essentially palce his own theory after Humes: as befitted a theory which lauded ideas (and imagination). Hence Hume’s connection lay between what was for Kant the nounenal and Phenomenal things in themselves. Kant felt, no dout that he out flanked Hume by insitisting that nothing at ll could come from the extrnal world, and therefore al the laws by which a thought were givien in the mind belonged to that mind alone. Hume had of course notargued this, as it was critical to his entire theory that all impressions were different to the simple ideas which nonetheless appear idenitical to them. But missing this point, kant had (as befitted Leibniz’s child) missed the point of Hume. Hume ha (as befitied Berekely’s heir) sey himself, and his impresisosn but within the middle of the debate between Locke and Berekly, and insidently in the middle of Locke. Locke ha divided world into ideas and objects. Berekely had insitsted that opnly ideas, only perception matter, Hume had accepted both postion, but then worked out a sublt way that impressions were different from ideas (which still being synomous with them): A way that then had the additional advatnge of including within it a explacation for perception) Kant had of course ignored this dimension and merely as a rationalist inhabitied the Berekely side of the divide, even though he then hve somewhat desperate appeals to the othe side, and th reality of the world in itself. A move of course Kant needed because his claims to find a world of truth needed the external world to be true of ( a fact which then gave Hume latter amusemenet). Hence the importance Hume saw in thatmoement of these argueemnts. The point Flora and her Amy were making was that the happening the perception need to be both confused with (a perception is always angled as a perception of something, and not merely the adjunct of God), and yet held as something distinct from evey object). Kantism had then, for Hume at heart the retreat from the fully radicalness of the Humean postion, a postion that created a profoundly uncomfortable relationship with beings, and existence: thatought were always caught by another, and yet that catching was their being (and the only being of which we knew- for the other themsvles may or may not exist in this manner…) This then remind Hume of his second grumble on at last reading the first Critique, it had occurred to him tat Kant’s argument for causality rested very deeply on just such a series of continuities which Hume hislef had treid so hard to undermine. Kant’s first move was then the suppstin tht there needed to be a substance in the thinking of time. Tis substance wa absolutely curtailed of course (and defined by reasosn). But its effect was still cleary. In synthesized temporal flow, into one element, one susbstance. This move then opens up a second move. Once it is admitted that the flow of sensation is always caught in a single duration, it follows that all impressions are then givien within that duration equally. Hence this allows Lkant to paint a new problem in the mind. There are some sucession which appear absltue and fixed: The succession of causality: While there are others which appear relative, and reversible, that is the succession ofcomunity. Henc Kant argue, hume ruefully rembmers, as ther can be no perceptional difference between these two states of circumstances (how that is do be know that community are simulataneous events,m and not merely succeeding, and closely linked causal relations), there must be a means beyond perception to argue fo the fact that we can very easily accept this difference (and attribute it readily to perception). Hume Of course rembmered how he loathed this argument, as it appeared to him to miss the point. The point surely lay in exactly what was reapted in impressions: that is in the web of vacities: idea which form then when those ideas a free flollowing one another, and those which fom when they are togther are different and the simple uidea open on different web of canals wihin the mind. There is no real need to impose order from bove(asave toi save reality) beyond his point. The reversabilty of thiome (the community or causaility) is then the temporary constuction of contiguity. which left to itself fades. And yet which will in he very act o fading be caught up, and strengthened in other thoughts. Hume’s point in thinking this is that the Kantian Jump to a substantial inner sense based upon time is the jump that allows, or rathe rinsists that one moves back from Hume;s own empirical statedgy towards a transcednetal one.It beomes therefore abosltuely necessary to uncover hidden field or patterning devices by which the order of events is given or allowed. Hume himself had none of this, and wanted less that , as it allowed back thrugh the front door the very demaon of scholasitiicim he thogyt he had eviced by the back door. He therefore remarks to the two figures in front of him: ‘m Your argument is then that the conjunction in the past in which both types of difference appear givien is itself a one an highly paradoxical one. Each element remains utterly sperate in that conjuncin. The Min gains then init only isofar as it comes to necessarily realize in looking at the past that their must be boh an extenal dimension to it, and yet that its poweris not givien in that dimension ( Thing happen, and yet perceptions are not the perceptin of those things). What then must be always avoided is the synthesis of these differences (which is done all too easily in the mind in any case). One coul, I suppooise imagine a philsoph which allowed thei one of conjunction here, and then thought the two part (and provided iemnsino within which that part could be givien). Perhaps in part th ws the philosophy you are I were concoting Flor just now. However, in even supposing this philosophy possible, one needs to watc with cae the postion of causaility. I mean here, that iot is certain that causality, theorde of eimpresisons would be lost as the first causaility in suh a thought. One would then need to provide a truly excellent account of the external element (what Kant would call the Noumonel element). That might be possible, I do not know. Bu I have no taste for such thinking, as it would in its first move banaish the good amy mere, for whom th useful activity nd direction (following from vivacities) are what matters, and who carries little for a mystical externality. One should before we move on (for Hume has seen Flora want to speak), I suppose te ultimate irony here is that causality, which looks askance at the external world (as you Flora looked askance at Mrs Clennam) will then lead one beyond itself, beyond hat it causality, and fa beyond the vivacities of impressions, and there not so much ie itsel in knots, and attemot to turn itself inside out, in its guest for truths: A true paradox f ever I knew one!’ Flora ha listened hre with care. But now she determinal speaks. There is so much more here though to say (oor what is the same to think!). There is more to being past than my father might allow. The Past mght palce the mnd in its own vice of relations; and yet the same past exists for Amy to plunder if she would…’ “Flora’ Amy suddenly sharply exaclims, and asks herfriend what he mns here. Flora continues’ is smy point oigianlly, whn I stred backon Anceient Rome before we set to talking about freedom. The Past as I have I is certainly not simply neutal, as it contains exta elements, exta aspets for Amy to take up. She has of course already givien you the method by which this might happen. The Past contains multiple diversities which vivacities then ressemble and hook into the expectation of the future. However to speak only thus, is as Amy also argues to miss so very much (and remain utterly bounded in the minor side sow of epistemology). The past is their to be stripped out, thi stripping then has numerus dimensions of its own Firstly, and most simply there are past habits: My and Srthirs love. These habits reamin in the mind (as they cannot be occulded), and will forver look to those circumstances both in ones own mind, and another to be givien.’ Hume interrupts heresaying “ I notice that your postioning here is careful. The Habit is clearly of itself suspended between the to of you Arthur and Flora, I assume this is deliberate, as it reflects the postion of impression’ “ More than that it reflecs the postion of our imagining. I mean it in loves Drem. Here I think, you make your sole error, although it is not your fault. You talk as kf imagination can be owned by the imaginer. It is not I think or at least not siply. That tim, and its imagination became the way I thought about imagination itself: The principle is not then simply seprate from the imagnation iwhich it appears to draw on. I do not know here. Or rather I do know Amy ere will tak of this latter. That she thinks (and it is enough for me) that imagination is itself configured in principles, and therefore in the relationship within the external world. What I do know as that Arthur himself and my imagining became as one. Whciis then why I suppose the dread women’s interference was so traumatic: It was literally as if my mind itself stopped belong to me, until mr F worked his magic. But that is almost another story. My point here is different. I argue here that the pst I then waiting us, the old habits of Arthur being there, and us eloping, or at last tlking of eloping, or at leat meeting, run then close. Here noticie though kind that the habits are not the same, Or rather not quite the same. Or at least not wholly the same. At least- well it does not singifny much. The point is that my thinking of Srthur and me in my forties clearly pulls different direction now. On the one hand our elopement is now possible, All reservation have been removd, and those who openly tore us apart want now to put us together: We can have our dream, This strengthens then all those past viviacities. And yet running the other way, it was not that I really thought it wuld happen. What was strengthend here was not so much the possibility of our eloping (as if the past lea to a simple expectation of the future: Akthough in walking down dark corridors that was not totally lost on me: I claim no total spurilous innoncence here: I merely knew it was not to be… And yet that knowledge then only strengthened that other future. The futr of that pst, which with an eighteen year old lust (if that is the right word, although now I saty it it seems slightly inappropriate). It then wanted to run away, Run into the future togther was it always had: And didso event hough I knew we world not. The habits then locked in the past are complex, they might both givie a future: That is they might simply behave themsvles (unlike that Spartan boy) and lock thesmevles into the next occurrence. History can really reapet itself (although this is far from normal, or necessarily healthy.) But it is just as likely that the present is caught into the future of the past, and becomes its mere plaything.for it. But that is ot the most important point here. The past can be plundered another way too. Rather than lifting out entire wedges of dross like memory, one can easily breed a new mermaid from he past. Between the current perceptions therefore, and the memories, both ressembance open up. They appear one and the same, and yt what is the ame will appear anew. The dynamism you yourself install within habit. the fact that it mutates by whiat ressembles what then comes to have a real meaning. The Hbait is repeated and yet changed. This in no doubt what Arthur in the more noble parts of his heart at least, wanted. It was what I slowly did (bt it took me so long to have the correct thoughts in th present which allowed this move. The problem here is always linking the impressions of that present, and one naturally gets this wong )(all the more so because other echoes in the past will breed one otherwise) Arthur then looked on mer foten with deep friendship, but the pushy nature of my younger self, always answered him.My problem was then I could not abandon that younger self without great disater striking, as it was only in its habits and mine that I could find otherways to think Arthur, and yet how could I find them? Who could lead me to them? Here your pincipel of looking for another ause, if two events seem very close, and linkd and et the link is not certain could have helped me. And yet still I lacked the way of linking the ideas. \ The third dimensin then the past adds, is the more gernal one. You say again that Habits been to be based within commonalites. You speak frequently of th common nature of man, which plices times together (and allow for the fct that this pliing ois more profound than the splicing of spaces). The past then can, taken from thi persaepctive really (with the help of Am, the hand-maden to go-carted fate), march into the present (as she onmce marched into my life) and alter everything. The last point then bcomes all the more constructive and activie. As Amy herself enforces what is active (as you say0 she will then gradually (although one needs are with the gradual here, it I a matter of growth from within and not without) be able to remol wha one is. The present then will not just each into the past, the past will reach also into its very own fture (and change anything). Part tof the problem in all this stretching is that neighter sid necessarily imply meet. I am not saying that meeting is impossible. It clearly is not, or at least is not simply impossible, but it seems like it is not the nomerm… Amy here starts, in what Flora has said, she has clearly seen soemthign else ‘ So that is it thebn’, she says. Hume asks here the exaplin what she means. Amy goes very red, and yet begin. Sh ays that she now sees why Hume instists f the three versions of he the principles he has. She hd (and she hopes he will pardon her) thought that they were mer perversity or oddit, but she shes now their poiwer. Her point, she says, is that these principles stand at a curious three way junction. On the one hand, each thought is caught up witjn an empricial hypothesis of its own. To ressembe (or not), to be a cause (o not) and to be next to 9or not), and then real event in the world. Each p[ionciple is founded (if found is the right world, and she knows it is not) within the experience of havng a mind wihi the world. The starting point of the mind is then an asepect of its own exerpeeince. This experience is suddenly taken up, and almost knocked into (as if a painting were suddenly nocked into trhee dimensions) into the mind itself (and this is Amyies second point. Sje says she means, this principle then becomes in its experience te guiding thread for the mind. The point across which one knows the mnd as onesown.The ressembling, the contguitgity, the causality ae then caught up in the constitution in whichone mind is being experience as one own (within the body on had). Here Amy says the really fine nuancing needs to be fully appericated. Firstly one needs to be clear what s notbeing said. The mind is not being said to be before these principles, they are firmly inside it. Nor are these principles themselves simply logical ones which are apriori to he mind. They are rather actively based upon an exepince within that mind (and thefeo based on its being caugh up in a world utterly beyond itself). To this point, one must of coruse add the point that these principles,a s they are link to a mind, being created within exepreinces, or across exepreinces, need not have anything to do formally with th truth. Or certainly better, the principles thesmevles straddle all of the minds imagining, and yet do so is aw way tht merely necessarily contains the truth (that is ideas from which very stable habits can be built) within them. They have no need to appeal to great truths beyond this construction (and the necessarily corralary of error contained within it). This then is Amy’s final point, Each principle matters because it loen staddles (in some way) all possible thoughts (Hume says hee That is what he said certainly). But amy adds, the point that she knws this, it is just thi universalizablity makes no sense by itself. it is only meaningful whn combined with the other two diemsion, the being that within the mind already ism, an the being an exepreince. The Qustion, essentially hume isasking is then under what condtions can one knock a thought, a prticualir experience into the mind. How does one forge principles within that mind (or better misquote experience as principles). Amy pauses here. But then carries on, that whole she absolutely agrees with Hume’s basic move here. It is true that principles need to be forges out of exerpiences ( she says here she knows this sentence could mean two things, and she thinks she wants it to), and that forging cannot tell ever simply truth from fiction or rather what is said to be true emerges from (and does so constantly) the maicnation of what stared out as false: Ad yet even here of course this ‘falisty’ is not simple. I t would perhaps be beeter to say that it started out as a blind bland exerpeince, which was pitched into being a principle, from which other dimensions arose. However Amy carries on, she then sees exactly where he and Flora disagree with Hume so very, very much. Hume, so wie in so many things, by allowing principles to themselves be universal, begs the question what makes that universality? It is constructed (for it appears to hbve no unity of its own). He therefore begging the question Cleanthes asked Philo, the question of unity. That is reason looks upon a principle and says that is all very well, indeed these links do happen pretty much as Hume says, but then asks why it is so. Now Amy says, she want’s Hume to fully undestand where here problem, with this ‘question is so pernicous. The problem lies not with the principle, so much as the stucte wihin is the arrange to support sucha principle. The question therefore misses the cardinal poiont of all principles, they need support. Or better the support is alady given within viviacity itself. What makes a principle operate, what essentially defines its universalizabilty is then not the expereince itself (which is pretty much as any other), so much as the fact that that experience-principle, as it applies to the mind enriches its thoughts. The principles are then special becausw they always (we know aposerti) must do this. And yet here there is clealy a further dmension. The reasosn for this enriching cannot lie with the principles (and their universalbilty), butrather ionolves the means a single experience (that which givies the principle itself) allows a mind in enrich itself 9that is interconnect radically different elements, in increasing vivacious comination). The driving force is then never exepreince or principle or universal, but rather the demands of vivaicy itself 9or better the demands to be vivacious). Hence Amy says here careful attmpt to isoclate differing termporal diemsnion to ach of the ‘principles’. Each ome rest in the attemot to pull out of perceptions a mean by which those perceptions can be enriched 9or their viviacity kept intact) though being spliced to other principles. Wexpereince then becomes the manner of this splicing. In this of course it is as if all the action takes palce before the principle itself is givien. The mind does not llok for cause and effect, buyt rather being a cause is bred within that mind, through the way thay its impressions are necessarily (in imagiantion0 cuahg upby each other 9and renerned unthinkable without each other). F a principle is then unviersalisable it is not for any reasosn of its own pure and simpl. It is not because the experience int I is somehow ;true’ (and the reast is false). On the contrary it is because in it,a nd through it, one can peg, and re-ppeg the vacities o thinking. To think it is then to allow links to also be. ‘But surely’ interrupted Hume “: this cannot quite do. The thoughts of rpincipels surely deamdn somethign about impressions. I eman I need to have a dimension, a reasosn why an experience is enriched. This also is what a principle is’ Amy here disgrees. One noly needs such a mecnahisim if one has already assumed that impressions are soemthow different fro the mind (and therefore different to themselves). And she doubts that is the case. That is, the point, she says, surely of a simple idea lies in the fact that it cannot tell itself apart, in being thought from ideas which are indistinguishable from it. The act of thinking an experience will hen already create this demandhence the point is that the argument needs not to turn o the principles, he posteri end result, but rather the very basic splitting of of impression from idea (and the viviacit yinwhcih that split was givien) in the first place. “ Maybe’ (this is again is Hume), but I still see problems here. I accept that latter fools, including ou noble author, can very easily say that principles, which are a gloriously aposteri construction might be and that these fools faed to undertand the power of the a posteri, or its paradox. The p;opint that experience is givien within exerepince. There is therefoe soemthign befoe the mind I own is mine, and yet not semthign which is merely physicalk, merely a matter of brain coisntuction. There are therefore anymous and elusive thoughts, which I only know aposteri, because I am aposteri of them. However I am far from happy with you advocating of the split at his point. This dimsension appear to me to put the argument righ back where it began, back in a claim about an apriori division’ Flora then replise ;’ no this is not really fair, not only Amy. It is your argument that makes the split in the first place. Amy’s point is then that the posateri turht (and all truth is stilla posteri) deamns a first moement fo split, just an muh as a last poin of a goal or destiny. That is, I mean, (Flora continues) it demands a sense that the mind is able to understand why every is posteri. If this is then priperi then I suppose it must be. But, for me at least this does not seem to simply follow. A mind clearly demands the two dimension of eprcioeving (soemthign else),a dn pitching that percepino (as soemthign different) within itself (so possiess9nng it as an idea). Amy then has merely explained that fact: tah tsi she has exaop,ined how the mind is at lonc posteri to itself, and yet how that posteri nature is itself (at another level, and curtosey o the principle) poactive Where I think (and here I suppose my footing is different from Amy here’s) your problem lies in the fact that you want also causes to realte to soemthign in the beyond (say China, but it does no matter where). How, you also ask can I know of China and have it true. Thisis of coruse the question I wishepred in your ear. A question whih has many conflicting wers. On theon hand, from Amy’ point o view, the truth must be gradually buil up, that is a viviacites mus be inspired to being viiacious (well it is either this or Brandy). That is, itmust be givien actually as copper bottom vivoacious (and not tmerely as an intensity),. But from you, and for I, this links to the real world. Our problem was then always a little different (o at least your was). You wanted to end up in a pinp;e to know the world, and did so first and foremost. Here that Auhor distilled the right question to ask you ‘ you can knowledge be possible – although I suppose thevegetable of all things we were discussing earlier might want to put this question differently). This then put one in a quandaery. On the one side yu kew where you wanted to end up. It waswith a real world of externals, where things could just be allowd. You kew how you wanted to get there, by use of Amy and yet you were not utterly recniclled to the effect of this production (that is all the rrors and byways fothought, that Amy conjures in producing your turhts: that is that turh is only givien through the monlogues of Flora Flinching (remember how much I knew, when and how every early, I knew about Amy and Arthur, and did not mind, well not quite, and I was right about that fate in a handcart). You however on that desire you had for China (well I understand that), confused what must happen or better what has already happened when one has a fixed a stable thought. You wanted to believe it so badly. You put what should hve been last first, and everything else then followed. Perhas this would no have mattered then so very much. The sin is not so bad (as afterll wht Amy is calling trth here, is merely pereptually created custom). But you hen essentially confuse (or at least do no stop others from confusing). Ad yet reason I fear has entered into your thought. I mean it is really reasosn which I deamdning that the world discovered by experince conforms to the externl world (henc the two world fo thephlosopher, the world of perception,a nd the thing itself said to mirrior that world). You, then, who have undermined reason in so many palces, and presented a true and accurate citique of its pretensuon that it has the right to a truth beyond little amy: or better that it can talk about the world as it it were ture. Now of course, be clear what I am saying here (Flora continues). O coure far more than almost everyone else you undermine this truth (which is all well and good). And yet you then still behave as if this truth was the one hat really matered. You therefore insitis upon erecting principles in reasons’ image. As if the pretension of reasosn were true, you appear to ask, what princiuple would be needed to present them. How could custom give them? The answer is your moves on causality, and on perception. If reason could breed truth, this is what perception would need be. However for Amy at least reason, that is the element of increasing vivacity, needs to be thought also in he folloy of things like me. Reasosn itself is then construted within viviacity or better, I suppose within thegathering of viviacity. The mistake reason makesio then when it poses itself beyond this struggling out and wants to assert it is something else. Now such an idea is essentially cogent. It can therefore exist, and have meaning and yet it can very readily be imagined (th man of reasosn pitched in the unreasoning world, the robin cruoe of knwoeldge perhaps) and yt it really misses the point. Reasosn has its own construction, and you know it (nd like no other philosopher pesent methodologies for this constraction’ Hume at this point interupts the flow “ I am touched by what you say. And yet surely hollowing out all the connection in the mind, and drawin off from ht hollowing certain general rules, certain effects seen across the entire mind is valid? One needs here to remember that one needs principles capable of occuring across the entire mind 9that therefore capable of actinign within all process), and therefore capable of constituting the mind of itself.’ Flora repleis; It think one needs so much caustionhere. I mean that it terms of the vuegt ‘animal spirits’’ the silent trackaay of the sol you are no doubt right. For principle constitue therefoe the broad avenues or even rivers of thought in which everything caught.And yet one needs care. On the one hand not to loose sight of the small process within which theseavenues are made : that is the local emprical differences. H4nce to think causailty was to pose imagination as a problem in its creations of ‘and’, and not. But also thee is the problem, as I said of the stauts of these principles. Are then synthetic or conjunction. Before or after.’ “ no, the entire point of my philosophy, tha me never grasp at causes,, only ffects. Principles are thent he unity of the effet.’ ‘ But this is the problem. Wht does it mean to have such a uniy? I mean if that unity is itself the a last effect, thn it is beeter to understand first the first effect. I mean the point the mind givies a thougth as effect 9which of course defined my is effects). Asl, and much worse, in the claim hat this lasteffect has for unity. I mean here, once one allows this last effect t be the last unity on the process, tht unity has a nasty habit of cropping up at the first pot, and demading to be causing it. It becomes very hard, to hold then a line beteen the ‘unity in the last moement’ and th categoriy (that is necessary apriori untiy). To rest a case then of a unity of effect, is a dangerous and uncomfortable place to do so for a philsopher such s your self, you has, with arrant (if that is the right wod) genius undermined so very much human preensions tounity.’ Amy then speaks. Sh argues tht Flora is right: Allt eh more so, as hidden within hume’s own analysis are deep subltieis, about the realtion between principles, Hee, Amy says, cause and efect have a very particualr role. It is almost as if, in cause and effect, in the articualtion of time within time, Hum was greating the principle (or creating as a principle), that element which demanded the last point of a unity. Amy feels she has not expressed this fell, and hen tried again. She says she means that if priniples end in unites as they are caught up in the most general aspects of themslves, and causailty is what allows to understd this general asepct as soemhow where they should be. It then, in making every order necessary, gives the generality itself its own unity. Amy attmepts then to give an example. Thate,. She says Hume’s own careful distinction between ancient history and epic poetry. Histories starying point is the a contiguity. The time of a certain place and epoch are taken togther, and a histopry developed. Within this history the very order of events is arrange as presenting (curtosery of causailty) a necessary progression.. The aim then of the hstorian isto directly creat a unity of causailty, which c inhabit a contguity, and make it appear not only a necessary flow, but also allows one toinfer what might possibliy occur in our own future. Hence here the move is from contguity to cause, and so from chanc set of events, to their necessary articualtion, and unity. Ths move is then informed (o even justfied) in the last point with an appeal to what cannot e known. The historian is important because he allows one to think about futurity, and infer what might have happened. To make sequcne most geneal as a principle 9what else is causes), is then o allow that equence to directly conffront the uknown, the what will happen. Hence Flora’s remak, hat their was a strange connection between the most general and the external ( Amy suddenly realizes Flora might not had formally said this, but Amy always understood this was the case).. Hence one can just as easily talk about a narratuve binding uop an entire life, as one can he narratuve of every day. Narrative are ten always pitched on, as I were the brink of th mind. The pointit collaspes into Catsby (hnce Flora, his daughter). Thepoint that is then mind is at the im of itself. The rpobem thn comes whn you attemott o make the same arguemnt (Amy continues) for Poetry. On the one hand, she argues Hume knows exactly where he wants to end up. He wants the claim that there is only a differnce of degree, and not kind. And yet thjen does nto fully expoit the incredibl profundity of ths distinct. Am says here she means, that for Hume, it is of coruse the case that he real differences o the mind are differents in degree 9it is what makes an idea different from a perceptino), and not kind. Th logicla of his agrument is then (or at least should be) that whilethe ultimate form, the general case, of poetry is indeed identical to that of history, what it is, and why it matters is different. Whle hstry I th progresionof pasisons, which work themseves out across causes. Peprty tkes up pasison, and takes up ressembelnces, making the two differing element sing within each other. Hence,Amy contues, whiel there are still causes within the flow of events in a peom ( achilles was angry for a reasosn0 the exten of those causes, and who could be said to own them is the very stuff of peoptry. Achilles anger, at the death of his friend is tied not only to his anger over the division of spoil (a causal connection), but also the anger of Menelaus by which the war started, the anger of a battle, and of the eventual massacre: it is also echoes the anger of the Gods and the irrational jealousy which drove the war onwards in the first place. A peoem therefore, unlike history opens one up the toe world of ressebence (and is therefore a species of painting). Ths move however clearly palces causailty almost in Peil. On the one hand you argue that one can only have these repeated rich movements, if a poem achieves over a smaller element of time a richer diversity, such that we are caught up in all the ideas in the single throw. Here of couse (Amy looks odd, her eyes seem flashing), she says that hume does not draw the obvious coseqeunce. That A peom is, in its coinsdieratio of an event, able to demand a far greater degree of vivacity in the immediate series of actions, than a historian can ever achieve or even desire. It therefore evokes reality in a waythat is very distinct and powerful. Hence then the genuine difficult (which iuppose is reminsicient of the sublome, and yet thought accordingt o a diffeent rhythm) in lacting the connectio within causaility. No epic poem, she says, Huem calims could be too long, as it it wre it would tar though the mind’s ailty to bind it into a single story. On the contary the mind would be digusted by the reapeated action, and by all the resemblences, an sink into boredom. Here Amy continues, what matter, si that causailty is not (as in the subliem torn asuynder) so much as it losses the thread in a cnstruction. The ressemblance themselves become the as causes in themselves (voilent and death are then seen simply in their own right, and sympathy for the actors is lost):Pr t put it almost another way, the abilty of the mind to tranfer thoughs into a single unity is snapped, and what one is left within are seprate ressmablcne, which lack any abilty to tranfer themselves in the intimate manenr necessary for viviacity to operate. It is then not that reasosn collaspses. As it is in the sublme, so much as it fractures an expereince, and isnerts within it, unites so complete (as indvidual causes) that ione kooses the abilty to futther ressembe. Hence, Amy continues the very ivacity of a poem, or pehas beeter the means of its viviacity, essentially opposes it to hisotry. Histiory is essentially I the dsipline which prepares one for the future. The Black death or even the civil war, were events which were nto simply forecat by the actors inolved, but rather sept up in a progress. Causailty, in this regard then operates as a means to account for the advent of these futures.. With a poem I is differen, the sotry is well known. Wht is explored is then notthe future, but the texture of time: the advent ofvivacity which pull a mind this way and that (and piull actors likewise), allowing thepoet to accurately explore a shfiting comelix of effects withn an apparently simple and ingual (and evern well known) narratvie. Hence, Amy continues althoghthe role of causailty in unifying the single thread of a story in one and the same, then effect of this unty is a lttle different in each case, as one would expect as the two are different in degree (which is where Ideas and viacities function) and not merely kind.The Cause,t e demand that there isa untiy, it one and the sme, and yet its effect in the mind is different History turns ones mind to thinking the exspected’ while poetry allows one to explore the world of the known and yet re-told: that is the web of feeling underpinning any narrative. However one needs of ause cautino here, not to exaggarte this last difference. The causes which are inferred are essentially no different from in each case, evne though their eventual effct within the mind might be a little differnet (as extreme caes) . From this last point one needs to realize firstly that the difference is often, as who rightly say matte of degree. There is no really clear point therefore a peopm and history part company. Some poems are also mistories, some history are also poems. The same work can easily be oth: At time viviaciopus and lively, and other more steadied. Secondly the rule of inderring is itself clearly a complex one, in that in history theinferal is essentially a produt of its veleocity. Amy says she means here, that because in history the difference, the vivacity is given by acorss episodes that are neccaily different from eah other, in that they are resolved int causalities, it turns the mind, as it thinks such a vivacity, inevitably towards the next elements of a story. A history can (unlike a peom) turn ones mind to the future, because then of its realtionship with its own vivicity. The Poem, which is no different in kind (t therefre is a cause and effect, and coantins only causes and effect, will noneltheless link up the mind is a differently viviacius manner (according to anither rhytm of vivacity), andso hav little or no implicatio as to the nature of the future. Now Hume looks thoughtful. He does not say anything for some minutes, whil flora an Amy look on. When he does speak it is very slow. “ What you have said about narratives, and there unity moves me deeply. I have argued before two intermeshed cases of my own on this regard. The narrative approach I argued funded ones belief within a single god. I mean here that if one tales the world simply as it is in the mind, a chain of effects, then those effects lie curiously within consciousness, in that they all adhere, somehow together within a single thread of a story, within a world of unbroken causality. What makes this so curious (as the good Berekely notes ) is that at no point in this process s anything approaching diversity evident. Nor is this lack of a God quite the same as the lack of the clear perception of a person. A face is no the same as a human, and yet the face and the human are synomous; or better the human is naturally included within the idea of the face. Now same is clearly not true for creation and divinity. It is then never custom which unties God with creation, but rather reason itself, which demands that such a connection must be thought (and thought in the lack of any possible perception, by which the thought can be justified). Reason there, as it were looks into itself, as it is conscious of itself, and of the world, and demands a set of causes capable of creating the orders it finds within it. Or perhaps even better, in ones mind’s eye, or ones consciousness, finds itself perpetually suspended across a series of effects, and but knows though its reason, that both itself, and the world it finds itself within are united inspite of this apparent division into lesser units. The mind then supposes a godhead to exist within a creation, in no doubt he same spirit as it knows of itself as conscious in-between the series of perception by which it is constituted. Now, I must stress that I am note quite saying the same as our learned author was. For him this being conscious (courtesy of reason) was itself synthetic. The entire process therefore led up to the moment of Reason, that is, to the ‘I Think’ of consciousness (whose pretensions then need to be clipped, and quite properly too, if that was how one understands reason. For me however, although reason and consciousness lie together, and reason’s more outrageous claims do need to be clipped, one cannot do so, if in so doing, one makes the entire explanation then turn on reason itself. To argue this way, to my mind is simply to throw all sense (and with it reasosn0 to the wind. Or better, it is to confuse two very different sentiments; To claim that everything in the world will, as lies a posterti within the conscious mind conform to reason is one statement (and one whose explaination might lie in as many different causes, as the godhead might have effected the world in a multitude of ways). It is clearly quite a different thing to claim that this must simple be the case, and that the mind must be organizing itself such that it is. Here one needs so much caution. I (for one) am of course perfectly happy with the idea that there are numerous invisible springs within creation, which bind bodies together (‘mine’ effected by others), and give me the world in which I inhabit, This hypothesis is I say more than likely, is it almost inevitable. And yet that is not to say that the mind itself (let alone my conscousness is directly acting as a unity to make this move. The unity,, which reason demands, I see, in your argument is the final point in the process (a move I might partially, at least, accept) . The profound question then of course becomes how one understands the link point, that is the point the hidden springs of the world force there way into the mind itself. now this is where a second thread surely enters. Humans are partial. They are fundamentally pitched into the world, as a speck of perceiving stuff. The obvious place then for the mind to start its enquires is not the realities demanded by meta reasons (which one some level must of course, still be respected – there must be a link between the chains of effect of the world) but the conditions, the process in which a human mind is first made a posteri. This is then the world of perception, and whatever happens to inform that perception. The problem of course then becomes the deep one of how one forms in ideas (simple and complex) a web of intricated links between different aspects of the world. This is less a problem of consciousness, and more a problem of how one realites to that which makes one aposteri. Here perhaps there are two quite different strategies. In other company (one that did not look on Catsby with foreboding, I might have argued, or might see that it is possible to argue that one need here to feed back a loop of time, from what occurs within the unities of the conscious mind, and what occurs within perceptions. This domain that celebrated author reserved for ideas (and reason) might then be made to sing to quite another song, if one reverses the drift of his thought, and argued that a priori reality is not a question about what the consciousness needs in order that it is thought, but rather resolves around the deep connection which intermeshes a simple (and to all intense and purposes external) unity in time (that is, in consciousness) to the myriad perceptions by which it is made. Between the two, perhaps, one might set up an empirics (of a sort) based around reason (if it is taken in that Authors sense, as what resonate between impressions and concepts. However this was very firmly not my project, as I would be far from happy making the first move here. That is allowing that there needs be a sense in which reason’s pretensions can directly (as it pretends it unity to enter into impressions. Reason therefore (and here I quite agree with that celeberated Author) must be kept back, and allowed only to resolve those matters that occur within the human psyche directly (that is within he chain of effects within the mind alone). The problem of course becomes how one then understands exactly how the mind is made a posteri within its perceptions, and what might also follow for reason (understood here in a sceptical sense) from this move. It is then her, I see poetry has a profound power (according to what who are now saying. But let my stat somewhere lese. If theism appeals to reason and so to the philosopher, in is no doubt the case that paganism ha an immediate appeal to custom, and so to the vulgar. This is because, humans are rendered into the world, they are so as partial and particular objects. They live therefore in a world of conflicts, of storms in realty and thought which are riven between different directions (139). Nor can this be otherwise when one considers the most likely explaination for the body: that is the hidden springs connecting it to its world. Each body is then caught up in a diversity of influence (141 each of which is only ‘united’ in their being beyond the mind. Each mind is the not only riven by other thoughts, it is also dragged into a scope beyond what it is (which it only gives through perception). The notion then of differing divinities, which are but a little different from humans themselves, and yet, being more powerful catch up the humans in things as they are, and impels their minds in unseen directions, is not only a most natural of thoughts it is also one almost integral in ones being a mind at all. I mean here, from within a mind, pulled in such direction, it is only natural that one should look to a unity in these direction, which is at once other to the mind itself, and yet not a simple product of ones own conscious it is then very natural, as a perception is conscious (and occurred within a simple idea) to draw that idea off into a simple unity of its own, which it is inferred must lie priori to what can only be given within the mind itself. Hence The mind turns its thoughts of Gods. It is worth noting here however that these Gods are very different from the God of reason. Such God’s are fundamentally not creating the universe itself, so much as allowing humans to explore what it is to be caught up in things immediately greater than itself. The problem is then, of course, how one understands the connections within these thoughts, that it is impossible then to drag such ideas across human consciousness itself. Gods are thereby caught up within a doubly reverberating stories an allegory, at time accurate (or lust is the child of love, as Eros is of venus), and yet also awrong (for why is this child the bastard off the god of war/ r even more problematically why is love married to the smith? Again here one needs care with what I am saying. The problem with allegories, as with consciousness itself, is the problem of over extension. I mean then lend themselves to a poetry where one cannot easily tell a fancy from anything else, as one waxes allegorical. The passage to the conscious minds of such stories is then problematic. All the more so because this is paganism pitches on within a mind of parts so very directly. Conscious thought is then truly in a spin, looking this way and that to make belief reasons interconnecting the poems given to them in perception. Poetry, and its allegory is then a treacherous surface for such thought. Hence then in philosophy the recourse to monotheism, which is at once removed from the human mind, and yet this appeal, guaranteed by reason, which is the master of allowing the relations between things to stand, in is own right, in the consciousness. In the case of paganism, these extra stories float as legends across the mind, mixing up poetic formations of truth and fancy within various fractures, and eclectic traditions. Here I suppose one needs to isolate three elements in this process, all of which makes this way of thinking so very different to that of theism, or reason. On the one hand there the initial element, the great truth, which paganism uniquely conspires to display. The truth is that humans are not simply caught up by the invisible springs of the world, as if those springs were simply things in themselves, and so complete, and therefore simply external to the mind itself. One the contrary the mind even as it reaches or its own in perception, or in passions is always jolted away from what it thought it was, and is so jolted even as, in the simply idea it grasps as the content of the impression for its very own. Things that are, are then loitering around in some simplistic ‘thing in itself’, which would no doubt be far better names a thing which keeps itself to itself, as the unknown God. Paganism, on the contrary directly faces up to the problem that things are not quite all they seem to be even within every individual, and that the fact of matters in themselves catches individuals up in never quite being as they were. The Pagan beliefs therefore are very aposit both in their pitching of the mind into this plethora of non-human, and yet still intra-human aspects that moreover on a deep sense we also share, even as we appear so divorced from them. Hence there very fine pitching within th mind. The beliefs are, after all, not beliefs of creation, but beliefs that centre around humanity not being able to control its own mind. But also, and perhaps even more importantly creating the attitude in the mind towards this excess which appears itself valid. The point of these intra-human aspects, is that while they are of themselves beyond humanity (they compose a world within which that humanity is given, and yet not utterly so. The boundary therefore between matter in themselves, and the mind they are busy giving, is therefore somewhat (although not highly) porous. Men might well then aspire to become as Gods are (that is as matter in themselves), and in so doing impress their fellow humans passions and customs. This then is the first unique feature of the pagan. The second aspect, which is in its way just as important appears initially at least in the negative aspect thought above, it is of course impossible for the conscious mind to leave such aspects of itself well alone. thy then become caught up in the whirl of allegory, and legend. These legends then move in highly complex manner, sometimes directly commentating on the fractures status of thoughts (which are nonetheless interrelated (hence the Eros-Venus-Mars link, and sometimes being caught up, even as the fracture is given within other dimensions, other powers of the mind or even political realities, or customs of the day, here then is formed within the conscious mind a beautiful texture, poetic in the extreme of thought. Hence paganism moves increasing into confusion, and increasing far from any attempt of reason to breed unties. In this it is of course accurate to the principles of diversity that engendered it. Here one needs caution. On its own ground such paganism is certainly valid, in that it does not seek to ground itself in reason), and therefore does not need to be able to formerly reduce its tenets to a set of reasoned beliefs. And yet, without that link it is prone to all the excesses of the human mind. However, at this point one needs to remark two points that reason develops within this plethora of nonsense. On the one hand, paganism is never solemn in its religion. It therefore breeds ludicrous thoughts absolutely necessarily, almost integrally, within itself, but then allows itself to laugh at itself. It poetry is then freed up from tragedy by its own comic element. Paganism therefore carries with it its own delimit. This is of course necessary given the high degree of texture necessary in such thinking. I mean remember that the poetic is at once more detailed that the historical (the narrative), and yet in peril by its very detail. In peril of wearing the mind out with the texture of its connection (and therefore loosing sight of itself, or rather losing sight of being caught up as a cause); but also it is now clear that before boredom sets in, , it is also possible that the mind might be gripped with increasingly ludicrous thought, as each poetic image spills beyond its immediate confines. In both cases (no doubt) paganism as recourse to laughter, and merriment, hence in comedy one laughs at over fussy detail, and ludicrous situations. On the other hand paganism’s very methodology is given over to toleration and inclusion. As people wander across the world, they see many diverse peoples and sites, each of which they associate with some local divinity, and an ever expandable pantheon. The final aspect of paganism, comes again. I mean here in Paganism men ressemble God in having their perceptions (which come from outside) and passions into the poetry. Paganism’s great strength lies then in the orchestration of these stepping beyond what is simply within its mind. Humans therefore step into a domain which is never simply beyond them, and yet which they cannot inhabit alone (a perception could be your in the same sense as its mine, a society is likewise always ours). Reason, then comes in at this point. It task is to uncover what in this sharing belongs to what, or far better what habits are caught up in what thoughts. It therefore creates within the strange world of perception that are at once partial (a perception is mine) and yet shared (I am my perception’s, both of us have similar perception) lexicon a demonologies of ownership. This in then the great question which causality asks. That is the problem of how to pull out of all this poetry, these shifting ressemblances, anything that a human might know as their own. And yet here (and this is also way I made the causality so general an aspect), it is only by being general that it is able to inhabit as reason each occasion. I mean here reason requires a highly complex, nuanced and tripartiate regime. First reason has, in the hands of the sceptical philosopher a negative role I clipping the pretension of perception (but also reasosn). That is, it is reason that must remind us what we do not know; That identity or even the certainty of the Sun’s rising are not simply given over to as external realities. The second dimension though swings in the counter direction to this one, and makes the absolutely opposite claim, that it would however not be reasonable not to belief the sun would rise, given the long train of thoughts. Reason therefore both undermines absolutely certainty and yet affirms the truth of possibility as what it is reasosnable to expect. Now of course this is just what that celeberate successor of mine found quite so incomprehensible he built a carrer in devising new clever ways to deny it. Andyet it seems o me to be the case(and to that thinker, if only he was honest ) that it is far more problematic, and reasonable o allow reason (whose urgency in my mid seems the same come what may), a complex and nuanced role, that encompasses many differing dimension, than it is to devise new names for the same process. It is then the last task of reason that carries most weight in the mind. Reason will not rest content with the comparison between things as they are drawn in the imagination. It will therefore immediately abstract non-philosophical relations, a means of comparisons. Now these relations, are then highly problematic. On the one level, each such relation is clearly unique within the mind. One might therefore expect it to be impossible to create a lexicon of such principles, and yet this reasons way. Reason of course abstracts from any relationship an rule for comparison. Hence it creates within itself principles of identity and principles of causality, and principles of space and time. Now these principles are at once a local response to a certain combination of relations, and yet, for this is reasons way can then be resolves into only seven individual philosophical relations. At the top of the list mere is ressemblance (hence the point is that one must start in a poetic manner although here the ‘poetry’ is of the most general of kinds – and encompasses dimension which lack ressemblances directly: this is a topic to return to). One then has the principle of identity. Now this is complex, as it is at once a fancy to be de-bunked in reason, and yet also its necessary construction. The belief will become all the more problematic as complex when it is linked to personal identity, which is at once wrong (one does change), and yet right (one does at time have an experience of what one is, even through that change), and valueble (without such a self, one cannot have in pride a finishing point for passions, and would dissolve into an abysss of intermeshed passionate wanderings).. Reason therefore really does us a favour is creating a somewhat false category. That is, is the case of pride, reason’s creation of a single principle aids and abets the need of passions. Or again take the great principle of space and time. Here that author makes so much of reversing me. For me they were a merely philosophical comparison It would be conceivable, if hard to imagine myriad other spaces, and different types of time, of which ours was a mere part. The problem was then always merely the matter of how one understood where and why one perceived the world as one does, but also the far greater problem of how the same perception could be caught up into numerous othering dimensions. Reason was therefore here, both a challenge and a confirmation: it confirmed the principle of the connection, and they gave out new a dimension (and so opened new experiences) on that confirmation. The author of the critical philosophy however had rather a different take on all of this. He wants to hollow out, beyond all natural reason merely one aspect of such relations: Namely the relations in the direct world of experience, which allow one to lock a mind into a certain sets of understanding s about the world, a set that is then both exclusive and exhaustive. Or take again the principle, in reason for causality. Here again one has abstracted, one then knows that there are cause and effects, and looks to the world to find and refine causes Reason here again plays the role of advancing the minds in new direction (and allowing in possibility, the means to review these advances. A cause is then are once a particular construction (each cause, or the relations is therefore unique), but also a highly flexible reason which advances and links aspects of that causes into increasingly general regimes. A single cause treats a perception as if it were apebble thrown into the ater, around which many circles of causes can operate. Here I would have you note the difference I draw (all the while arguing the two are conjoined) between differing manners of defining causality. On the one hand a cause might be understood to a relation of assumes precedency and immediacy, between two sets of impressions. Alternatively one might include within the definition an interlinking of the two, and therefore of belief. A cause then inspires in the seeing one impression an enlivened idea of the other impressions. Of these two definition, and according to our current arguments, I say now that the latter relates to the world of custom, and to Flora, and therefore directly to you Amy. The external here, is then as you say the enriching of the vivacity. Each mind will therefore suddenly uncover its own wealth of external links, which breeds mermaids of belief within the mind. Realities and vivacities become then syonomous with one another (even as the mind thinks it is learning of the external world). This is Flora. And yet the other defintion with its sets of impressions placed in immediacy is a cold affair of reason. Reason demands necessary precedency is thought as cause and effect, as runs across experience in looking for dimensions of this interlinking. Flora interputs here.” So you are now saying that the general is in service of reason, and not in the name of the external world? If that the problem as you now say you think it is so, exactly how are you avoiding that elegant writers poisitoin (Amy and possibly Hume, understand the last world as punning poison and position) ?” Hume replies, looking all the while at Amy. “ The argument to make here has I think three distinc elements. Firstly there is a no standing principles of mine that one should never needless spawn new principles. The problem with the mind is not then that here are no principles within it, or merely very few (which then need to be discovered by the rules of Logic, or whatever), but rather then far more problematic and nuanced problem of a plethora of principles. Any experience can then be, with a will, and due (or even undue) care be set into a principles. The game is then not to spawn ne ones, bu rther to uncover within old ones new dimensions, new ways that hey can be thought. Here then are two ways one can move caused. In terms of common experience one move then towards vivacity: here I have accepted that this move, is actually problematic and the generalizing element in what places one in the most particular the experiences, and therefore not to be taken utterly seriously. The ‘real’ world of hidden causes, and the old of custom, are, as Reason has it separated by a void wider than might initially have been suppose (and generalized principles are to the degree they are not allowed to allow for this, misleading: Ones based on experience, within experience would then be a maxim). And yet from the side of reason things are again not so simple (I will explain exactly why in a while). For once reason stops understanding itself as a stodgy and simply given self-conscious (a feeling which is clearly created within a mind), the it becomes arranged across the two poles I mentioned earlier. On the one hand reason can deny all reality save impressions and their viviacities (at is base therefore always lies May), at the other is affirms the reasons for a custom. Between these two perhaps one might say, reason endlessly abstracts possible truths. That is, in the case of cause, it notes perpetually notes the links between effects and causes, and runs ahead (and behind0 to breed new links. It then (again within reason) understands the breeding into belief (on the part of custom), in terms of possibilities. The world, and the ‘logic’ of the world is then really perpetually being reworked, across these reasonings. Or to put it another way the hidden springs f thought are being sprung and re-sprung across these wandering paths of reason. Reason of course does not directly know of these springs, or directly comprehend their nature, and yet explores endlessly, in perceptions, different manifestations of their effects. This point will eventually lead one back to the consideration of the argument from the alternative direction. I mean from the perspective to reason as it directly grasps at itself and the hidden orders of nature. But before we do this it is worth quickly exploringt he breach that thereby opens between my approach, and that of our ‘elegant‘writer, He could of course allow for the fact that understanding, and its concepts work out a different reason. Such other reasonings were for him were his categories. Modelled very closely upon lexicons of logical judgements, they allowed the mind to work out the logic conditions given within experience, by which impressions can be grasped within a single consciousness. Reason therefore devolves itself into understanding (and remains merely subsidiary). One the face of it an original move, and yet a clearly flawed one the starting point as were three agree is not the consciousness, which is rather a subsidiary dimension to the impression-simple idea nexus, or is at least as far as it is lived : hence one cannot base identity upon self consciousness, but must rather manufacture it within pride. So much then is evident. and yet there is a deeper flaw within that thinkers workings. By keeping reason, as I did, out of harmony with experience or better, by keeping it not as a legislative so much as a speculative function, I installed a real dynamism between reason and impressions, which I think this author lacks. I mean here that custom itself will install, in its own dynamic. Within this dimension, reason will then merely support what is, and all experiment, all thought is lost under the mundane action of understanding. Now of course our author would no doubt claim that this last remark was rather unjust. After all in judgement, with its imagination an reason he allows or just he reasoning I allow for. And this is certainly true.. However this truth itself leaves me wondering exactly where the Author’s great advance lies? After all, after huffing and puffing about the importance of understanding, it strikes me al the real work in his thought is done by reason and imagination, pretty much as I said they were. It is after all judgement that will allow the mind to deploy its imagination in working out where to allow the categories of understanding within. And what are then those great categories. On the one hand they are clearly an apriori assertion, of what is only know a posteri (a point the author somewhat chirpily accepts). What then are the reasons for saying that this apriori must be? Well they are no more than the dual fact that whatever is found in concepts must accord to reason: but of course it must, and that was never in dispute. And that without this recourse to understanding there is a real danger that an impressions once grasped will fall out of the mind and that there therefore must be a principle stopping this slippage. And yet I had, in the splitting of impression and simple ideas, and the vivacity that follows on, discovered just such a principle. Moreover my principle had the added advantage that the sense it needed to be thought of linear was itself highly textured. One time might then be being passed, but that passing was not measured by time itself, but by vivacity. The same impression might then be caught up. Or re-worked within a linear sequence, and as that sequence is linear,” It is Amy who stops Hume this time…She says that Hume is here, she feels, makig a real and very important dsincion. It seems to her, Amy saysthat there are two very different reading to time, and Catsby here. On the one hand one could read times as a series of parallel threads. There are then numerous different tracks, numerous different threads to time all of which run concurrently, and all of which jump into one another causing varying degrees of alarm and Mayhem. In her world, she continues, their in then the whirly-gig of society, and of the Marshalsea, and Pisa, all different world, imperfectly relating to one another: The family then would agree that once out of the Marshalsea it would be as if it never existed in their new worlds. Such worlds then relate by their difference from one another, as much as any difference of one to another. Each world falls then as a thunder bolt, breaking upon the others, as her poor father died having seen the innocent John Chivery, and nearly having missed the Marshalsea. However Amy continues this was never here experience or her way. For She got everywhere, be it society or the jail or Pisa; and in each place remained the same Amy. This was her power. The power to rewrite and rework a story already half told – to make it sing slightly differently than it can seemed. Her power is the arranged as the power of poetry, and yet within the narrative. This is how she says she understands Hume’s of both poetries deep texture, but also its location which a narrative: that is within the rigours of passing away (and so causality), a rigour that prevents the links being two great, or burdensome. Indeed it seems your author wants to present a synthesis of these two positions. He wants to keep time linear, and yet also keep the far greater dimension of power that the parallel worlds give him. He then attemtps to achieve this with the aid of his concepts, his understandings, which at once straddle all possible world, even as they arrange the one world. That is they close down a possibility, (that another world is) even as they compose a single linear time. Hume has not listened that carefully to what Amy has said and carries on. He continues’ the mystery then is simply not here, not with time, itself seen something external. Its power is then again merely an adjunct of your vivacity. The final argument , and one which I am certainly happy to attribute to this author alone (for I do not want it!) concerns the argument that understanding is necessary for consciousness and for reason. What for me is troubling about this argument is that it important a more general level of reason into a fractured particular. Let me explain. It is of course merely one of reasons general features tht it can as reasosn calim everything to itself (this is the secret power of monotheism, as I will come onto). And yet this does not mean tha one should simply allow this power to found a metaphysics which founds it as itself. Quite to the contrary I show that conscious (and the reason which generalizes it) are themselves produced within the process of impressing. To take then, as this author does, this produced level (and its admitted claim of universalisable reason), as the fundamental paradigm of the mind, is to reverse the customary order of thing. I do not deny such a move is possible. F course it is, and yet the price is not worth paying for whatever certainties you persuade yourself you get. For you gain nothing that I did not have, (and better, if you want my opinion): While I certainly allowed for more than this author ever could . This last point brings us back to reason, and to that issue we have already thought on, the issue of teleology. We have already discussed that I present three telologies, where our author finds himself only able to think the one. The problemis the where one needs to start, when one consider the exact issues here. I think possibility best is somewhere else, and gradually build back will start then with the issue of the I Think. The I think, is I suppose how that author attempts to annex to his own way of thing the personality of Amy. The I think, is the pure empty form of consciousness. It is nothing save the ability to have a perception as ones own. That is to amount to the demand that very impression in bent into ones own mind . as it is givien. What ne is, empirically then, he says quite rights, must follow one from this bending. I am myself, or rather I have the ability to be a self, therefore before all else: before essentially I am at all. This is then the domain of that which transcends the empirical self, the transcendental ‘I’. The author therefore here wants to neatly avoid the consquences of my argument. In that argument perception (and within it identity –I mean mere not merely personal identity, but also empty consciousness) were ultimately given with the body in the impressions-vivacity-simple idea nexus, and yet related to the hidden spring that drag a mind outside itself. Reason’s role here then, for me, is as an adjunct of thought that is created within these effects. It therefore is free then to speculate and infer cause from within the effects, and yet has no direct access to those causes themselves (or none not mitigated by possibility and experience). No, no doubt our ‘Good-author’ cannot accept the worrying implication of this argument: Namely that one s caught up, in an almost pagan poetry which drags to soul into other dimension. The intersplicing and emrging of world from the hidden springs of the God, by no means, for me implies anything about individuality. Individuality (and e reason which supports to is invariably create within that intermeshed reality. It makes then no sense o ask whether the mind is one or many, ans our minds are already caught into perceiving, which at once multiples there natures, while creating within tem an illusion of unity (or rather an awareness in Reason, and across all vivacities) of this unity. Please though note her, it makes no more sense to say ones body is ones own, that it makes to say that ones soul is on own. What it ’possesses’ are perceptions (and reflective passions), that are always owned by matter as hey re, of which we have no awareness of (beond he vapid speculations of reason). The I think, as I mentioned demands the unity is thought before the diversity, thereby reversing the order, and making the monothesism which lies at the heart of consciousness and its reasonings, the only possible explication of the world. Now this claim is to my way of thinking flawed in two directions. On the one hand it becomes very clear., it is even clear to this author that here is really not at all supporting this I, it can just as easily be It (indeed it is certainly more true to say that it is It). Once this concession is allowed the it must surely also be the case that this ‘ transcendental-it’ which thinks is neither strictly speaking one or many: It its effects it produces a singular mind sure enough, and yet it only does his in running across numerous differences. This no doubt is not unknown to our reasoner. Perhaps it is why he asserts that impressions relate to the empirical (and so derided self). In doing so he wants to ensure the power of that unitary self over the multiplicities that are insipid to it. He thereby very quietly distracs ones attention from what really matters; Namely the connecion between the hidden springs of thought, and the perceptions they give us (which their attendant conscoiusness). This failure This then leaves the perplexed reasonerr two possibilities. Either they can attempt to tackle fairly directly the nature of that It, which oscillates between one and many, perceptions and self hood, transcendental unity, and empirical diversity. This is I suppose what you, Amy were talking of in the first of your options. Alterntively then can stay within my trajectory, and comprehend the self created within the it merely as a product of vivacities. Either way around, it seems impossible to hold the line that conscousness, the supreme effect, was really the cause all along. This last point then leads one into the second strange problem implict in the account. . This Ulysses of the mind makes the claim one needs to behave when one is undersanding, as if one were caught up within a great empricial known consciousness. Our transcendental self, our ability to reason is then to this author the key stone. It creates in us (directly) an empirical consciousness of our own unity, and creates indirectly the intermeshing of thoughts such that we must (as the too good Berkeley says) attribute the world as to a divine mind. Our thinker therefore has enough rigour to understand then, that there lies at the heart of understanding a problematic sense of unity. The same thing that allows me to call myself an empirical self, also demands that that same self is caught into a divine mind that includes me (and what I make myself to be), as it works though its purposes, and includes everything else. At my innermost heart I am only myself because I am also with everything else. Moreover it is highly perceptive of him to realise that in this formula, conscious is caught up between the external (and yet strangely shared) world, and whatever reflexive identity one manages to generate for oneself to inhabit that world with – I mean here pride, which clearly, once generated allows one to feel oneself to be. His Archtoinc (as he might describe it) is then perfectly reasonable (I suspect ht he hs quietly lifted it for me). Were h is simply mistakn in of the staus then of this I. In his formular it is the I that forms the entire process. Giving the two in one go. For me, the process is a double headed one in which that I (and its reasonings) have a role, but not a definate one. I mean the I itself, I as we have been considering merely the last point in a process of understanding; but then leaps up t have a new identity within reflection (where it is caught up in the feeling of pride, the holding passion, into which all others, once they are fallen remain caught). It is as if then in this strange formation of his, he wants to hold down, as if with some fierce thumb the splitting of impressions and ideas. The anonymity of perceptions are then related back to something beyond us (and yet still understood as reliant upon us, on our consciousness, but now attributed to our consciousness itself. At the same moment the careful subsuming of consciousness under a feeling of identity that I augmented, is lost under the maze of ‘empirical selves, as it is forced to accord to the rigours of the transcendental self(which demands of I a unity, that was never simply it own (and when it demures it is dimissed as a mere empirical construction- that is of course precisely the point.) What we can own is then missed, what we possess (without owning), I mean our impressions is arbitrarily attributed to a conscious mind (and therefore caught up in ownership). { Amy has gone very, very pale in all this talk of owning and possessing. Flora is tight lipped. Hume has the impression that there is more going on than meets he immediate eye here, and yet decides simply not to care, and carries on regardless). Now this then has another some what horrid effect. I show that monothesm, while I accords very much (at least superficially) to human reason, it gives a free hand to whatever prides and the poisions that hatch from those prides, that is once the true lines of causality have been so inverted. A man discoyering that he is always conscious, assumes the world is all his, to use as he pleases (including the divinity itself) and uss the world for its gain. He will moreveor see himself as the centre of hat history it has, as all conscious it annexed to his narrative . Such a man will then depart, in the very name of reason, from the path of the reasonable, and in reasosn’s assertion. No doubt our goodly (or Godly) author would claim two points here. Firstly that the I think was a mere empty form of consciousness, and therefore immune to the warping and distorting effects of pride. Well this might then be the case formally or as he has it transcendentally. And yet, in effect his flea-jump to the transcendental is an attempt of the behalf of this reasoner to translate into the domain of a higher plain the feelings of pride that are constructed within this dimension, and without these dimensions, the connection would be unthinkable, as logic itself will not give (hence the author ‘deducing’ it as an a posteri’ clue. Identity, as unity comes then with a pride attached. It is then no wonder, now of the transcendental plane that that pride claims unutterly to itself all of creation, including divinity as to its own. The Author then because he treated idenity as simple and unified, when it was already compound and complex, is caught n the inflation that the extra demands upon thought creates within his mind. Secondly, no doubt the author would argue that I am imperiling morality by founding it on sensation and taste while for me, it is him who has imperilled everything, by transfiguring a pride , such hat it seeps into all of knowable creation. He would therefore argue that the proof of Divinity in morality, and the God of the nature need not be one and the same Godhead. And that therefore the effect of consciousness was not to make humans always at the centre of the universe, so much as to fashion a double axis by which there being caught up in the world is orchestrated. They are caught up then within a divine mind, and humbled by its sublimity, even as they understand. They are likewise caught up within a greater morality, that inspires awe in their breasts. As long as these process are kept apart (as they assuredly are at the end of the first critique) perhaps this line might be held. Humans then could feel themselves doubly humble, as they are doubly caught up in two totally different Godheads. And yet, as he admits, this thought is impossible for a human mind to maintain. Now for him his is a problem no doubt ultimately of reason. But I might say something somewhat stronger. It is not reason solely to blame here, so much as the engine which produces these unties in the first place, namely pride. Pride, you must rembmer I demonstrate is formed when the mind forms a nexus of pleasures which are indiscernible from one another (I might here, and here alone chance the word synthesis) and to ideas, of selfhood and somethign assocated with that self hood. It this case selfhood, that is consciousness stands at the meeting point of the world of morality (and its practical assumption of a divinity), and the world of telology (and its perceives order). They are given together, and the human burst in the pride of being the key stone to the nature they found in the world. In terms of my explaination, the unity of nature, and the unity of morality as they are so presented have become caught up in a single human pride, which then gives itself within the two. More, by the logic of what I have said is that pride anything other than necessary and natural. The feeling of unity, and the feeling of pride are one and the same feeling. what I logically separate is then necessarily by the very conditions which allowed it to be thought, united. A move that then imperils morality, in ht it once gin, and in a more vivacious form, reverses cause and effect. I pride is taken as the sole schemata for the world, then the world is indeed fixed within a single axis, and yet at a cost all the diversity, all the multiple pleasures of the world are subsumed within a dreary durge about humanity, and its varying pleasures Al…” Hume never finishes the last point. Amy has been getting paler, and paler, as he has be building up his pedoration. She how faints. Flora Stand over her: And yet even as she stands so protective for her Amy, she seems to Hume to fade. As though se fades she speaks ver quickly summing up, for her the course of the argument. “ We have said many things. Key surelys the idea that causality breed the mermaid mind. To be caught up in external causes is then never to have quite finished within what one is. This never finishing is difficult, because it can disobey all the normal rules of being. That is it can splice together not’s within the imagination. It can breed a series of linked addition thought, that run across the mind as a series of And’s. China was therefore oth a nest of of dreams, but also I place Arhur wnet to. In all of this thinking, one is haunted with a strained realtion ot the outside. One auges then that a cause is gneralized, from my angle, and tha all of it must be gathered in a single cause, because one is alsowys wanting it to be a aprt within a single narrative. That is within a single stoy. Ths is however as far as perception is concened not the case. There is no one story here. There are rather multiple threads. Hence the And’s jump around: Intermeshed impressed even but never simply linked. I might retage a thread bare act, and yet I know I am the cause knows it own faded nature therefore (as I knew my rose had faded – and only the Aunt really needed me, my legacy. From the side of foolish custom therefore everything as, and must remain an enigma. A one of the outside world, and yet in its process, in the way it thinks upon, and deals with Amy hear herself, not of it. The vivacity is the related to what is not there, I mean to the aunt, to the confronation wihin beyond. And yet vivacity then has its probems 9most partcualry I think wit pride, and with passions). It is at this point yo then say one needs a second dimension to genrality. One needs nt merely genral casaulity, which isbesottedwith the outside world which cannot nevertheless be itself every factually present. One needs also the idea of reasosn. It isreasosn which orchestreates spheres of difference (al lheld within iself0, and then holds these spheres as itself. and yet here It seems clear to me yo want two elements kept apart. The mind itself, you mean reason altogether is not then merely one of this layer amgonst all the others. It is rather thr residual effect of all these layers taken togther. It might how then in how, but even as it givies that being one, it is nothing to do with the pasrts (it is then on its own access and not a aprt amongst all the others). One cannotthen reverse this moce. I mean if reasosn;s entire life was to be thought in the same breadth as the lives of the parts wihin it, then ne would be able either to draw parraelles between the two, or to subsume the lesser within the former…’ Flora is not fairly fait. She seems to swig something out of a bottle Hume had not realized she was carrying. The smell of sherry seems to increasingly come out of her, even as she fades. ‘ I mean’, she continues, going even faster’, I mean to say in the first of these two case, on would hand everything over to my father. Narrative and poetry would then arise together, in the single blind gasp. Consciousness, and its narratives would then be merely just another narrative amongst all the rest, and the pecualiar role of vivacity lost within the smoke and mirrors of reflections, without end (and time without a purpose beyond itself). The generality of consciousness, is it is based then upon the genrality of consciousness the generality of the transfer of vivid lively thoughts, is and must the be kept apart. And yet one then must then simply to reverse the order, and demand the genrlaities in conscious mind are simply synoous with and for reality iself. One the contary one needs to think with meticualos detail both what is different about consciousness, namely it is made up in vacities. But also how that difference gives it a pecualriy role in constutiting reality It is not restricted to the needs of simply being. On the contrary it finds itself caught into means of thinking which,as hey realte to ideas are never straight fowardly there. Moreover in thnkin these elements it need to compose a world as reality (but is closer to thinking it as if it were real).It therefore uses possibility, that is the increasingly of vivacities as its medium (and arranges an understanding to tense based upon this). Rality is therefore essentially always provision, as or reasosn another diemnsin can layas be pulled out of the same thought. Here reason is at once a delimtedand yet given its won very complex role. As it is at its most generl, perhaos one might say it has a role known but it can play. It makes every imprssion provisional and orblemaic. That they are in the consciousness at all, that they have a borrowed vivacity I hen merely an itnial finding> Soemthign else could emrge, or even better probably is already emerging from just the same set of thoughts. Cosciousness is the, in his geral aspec, as it is arrgange throughut the byways of lanes of the mind, he supeme underminer of cosncuoisnes. Tviviacity is then always lent from outside, and consciousness even as I seeks to own the mind, realizes its possiession belong firmly to another. Reasons’s second aspect then comes into play here. As reason makes its second demand f impressions, it builds up hypothesis to be investigiated (accrdoing to he first aspect). Reasosn therefore naturally pitche ideas into augmenting of vivacities. The ideas themselves, as the product of the imagination as reasosn occupies it), are of course namels word interlinking the vivacity itself. For then last poit it follows thatreasosn links ideas togther as an increasing vivacity which is he pitched into the mind, and a demand set up hat that vivacity itself should (if ture0 continue to enrich itself: without of course the prviso that it might very well break up, but if it does another set of hypothesis and vivacities wil lemerg. The two bacnhes of reasosn (Flora is nearly faed now, her voice is coming in stops and starts0; the twin brancehs of reason I say then meet in the vivacious itself. in the diea whichis already viacious and the demand to make a viviacity. Reason therefore finds, or deinfes ways to be vivid in, then sets theh allows that vividness o be. In doing this it does nto confuse these two elements; Gernal and specific, but rather in the name of Amy allows the two to be forever caught by the other. It is then onl in vivacity itself they two mee/…” Flora is no longer visible, her voice utterly abruptly stops. Hume looks down and suddenly realized Amy also has no gone. He waits in the dark, somewhat disconerted by its profundity.