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 ELEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE HUMAN MIND.
 
 Printed by A. Sirahan, 
 Printers-Street, London.
 
 Ex Libris 
 C. K. OGDEN 
 
 ELEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. 
 
 BY 
 
 DUGALD STEWART, ESQ. F,R. SS. LOND. & EDIN. 
 
 HONORARY MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES 
 
 AT ST. PETERSBURGH J 
 
 MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY OF BERLIN ; 
 AND OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY HELD 
 
 AT PHILADELPHIA ; 
 
 FORMERLY PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE 
 UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH. 
 
 VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 SIXTH EDITION. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR T. CADELL AND W. DA VIES, IN THE STRAND} AND 
 A. CONSTABLE, AND CO. EDINBURGH. 
 
 1818.

 
 t.TTOAKY 
 
 OT UNIVFT>T~V OP CALIFORNIA' 
 
 . ^ . SAirr A BARBARA 
 
 51 ''< ' ' ':. ' ' 
 
 TO 
 THE REVEREND 
 
 THOMAS REID, D. D. 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY 
 IV THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW, 
 
 THIS WORK 
 
 IS INSCRIBED, 
 
 IN TESTIMONY OF 
 
 THE RESPECT AND AFFECTION 
 
 OF 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IN various parts of the following Work, 
 references are made to subsequent specul- 
 ations, which are not contained in it. These 
 speculations it is my intention to resume at 
 some future period : but when I consider the 
 extent of my subject, and the many accidents 
 which may divert me from the prosecution of 
 it, I cannot venture so far as to announce, in 
 the title-page of this volume, any promise 
 of a future publication. 
 
 Some additional chapters are still wanting, 
 to complete the Analysis of the Intellectual 
 Powers. After finishing this, the course of 
 
 O ' 
 
 my inquiries would lead me to treat, in the 
 second place, of Man considered as an Active 
 and Moral being ; and thirdly, of Man con- 
 sidered as the member of a Political Society. 
 
 COLLEGE OF EDINBURGH, 
 
 March 13, 1792.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF the Nature and Object of the Philosophy of the 
 
 Human Mind ... Page 1 
 
 PART II. 
 
 SECT. I. Of the Utility of the Philosophy of the Human 
 
 Mind - 17 
 
 II. Continuation of the same Subject '"* - 44- 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Potoers of External Perception. 
 
 SCBT. I Of the Theories which have been formed by Phi- 
 losophers, to explain the Manner in which the 
 MIND perceives external Objects - 63 
 
 II. Of certain natural Prejudices, which seem to 
 have given rise to the common Theories of 
 Perception - 71 
 
 III. Of Dr. REID'S Speculations on the Subject of 
 
 Perception - - 87 
 
 IV. Of the Origin of our Knowledge - 94> 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 Of Attention. - - 103
 
 x CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP: III. 
 Of Conception. Page 133 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Abstraction. 
 
 SECT. I. General Observations on this Faculty of the 
 
 Mind - 152 
 
 II. Of the Objects of our Thoughts, when we em- 
 ploy general Terms - 16O 
 
 III. Remarks on the Opinions of some modern Phi- 
 losophers on the Subject of the foregoing 
 Section - - 182 
 
 IV. Continuation of the same Subject. Inferences 
 with respect to the Use of Language as an 
 Instrument of Thought, and the Errors in 
 Reasoning to which it occasionally gives rise 197 
 
 V. Of the Purposes to which the Powers of Ab- 
 straction and Generalisation are subservient 204 
 
 VI. Of the Errors to which we are liable in Specu- 
 lation, and in the Conduct of Affairs, in 
 consequence of a rash Application of general 
 Principles - 215 
 
 VII. Continuation of the same Subject. Differences 
 in the intellectual Characters of Individuals 
 arising from their different Habits of Abstrac- 
 tion and Generalisation ' - - 224 
 VIII. Continuation of the same Subject. Use and 
 
 Abuse of general Principles in Politics - 234 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of the Association of Ideas. - - 277
 
 CONTENTS. xi 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Of the Influence of Association in regulating the Succession of our 
 Thoughts. 
 
 SECT. I. General Observations on this Part of our Consti- 
 tution, and on the Language of Philosophers 
 with respect to it - - Page 277 
 
 II. Of the Principles of Association am ong our Ideas 288 
 III. Of the Power which the Mind has over the Train 
 
 of its Thoughts - - 295 
 
 IV. Illustrations of the Doctrine stated in the pre- 
 ceding Section - 301 
 
 1. Of Wit - ibid. 
 
 2. Of Rhyme - - 306 
 
 3. Of Poetical Fancy ... 312 
 
 4. Of Invention in the Arts and Sciences - 317 
 V. Application of the Principles stated in the fore- 
 going Sections of this Chapter, to explain the 
 Phenomena of Dreaming - - - 327 
 
 PART. II. 
 
 Of the Influence of Association on the Intellectual and on the 
 Active Powers. 
 
 SECT. I. Of the Influence of casual Associations on our 
 
 speculative Conclusions - - 348 
 
 II. Of the Influence of the Association of Ideas on 
 
 our Judgments in Matters of Taste - 369 
 
 III. Of the Influence of Association on our active 
 
 Principles and on our moral Judgments - 386 
 
 IV. General Remarks on the Subjects treated in the 
 
 foregoing Sectioos of this Chapter - 397 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of Memory. 
 
 SECT. I. General Observations on Memory - -403 
 
 II. Of the Varieties of Memory in different Indi- 
 viduals - - - - 416
 
 xii CONTENTS. 
 
 SECT. III. Of the Improvement of Memory. Analysis of 
 the Principles on which the Culture of Me- 
 mory depends - Page 4-29 
 IV. Continuation of the same Subject Aid 
 which the Memory derives from Philosophical 
 Arrangement .!'!> - - 435 
 V. Continuation of the same Subject. Effects 
 produced on the Memory by committing to 
 Writing our acquired Knowledge - 446 
 VI. Continuation of the same Subject. Of Artificial 
 
 Memory * Q<" : .: - ^~*M - 455 
 VII. Continuation of the same Subject. Importance 
 of making a proper Selection among the Ob- 
 jects of our Knowledge, in order to derive 
 Advantage from the Acquisitions of Memory 461 
 VIII. Of the Connexion between Memory and Philo- 
 sophical Genius - 471 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of Imagination. 
 
 SECT. I. Analysis of Imagination - - -481 
 
 II. Of Imagination considered in its Relation to 
 
 some of the Fine Arts - 489 
 
 III. Continuation of the same Subject. Relation of 
 
 Imagination and of Taste to Genius - 506 
 
 IV. Of the Influence of Imagination on Human 
 
 Character and Happiness - 509 
 
 V. Continuation of the same Subject. Inconve- 
 niences resulting from an ill -regulated Ima- 
 gination _ 517 
 
 VI. Continuation of the same Subject Important 
 Uses to which the Power of Imagination is 
 subservient - ... 529 
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ... 535
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 Of the Nature and Object of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. 
 
 IHE prejudice which is commonly entertained 
 against metaphysical speculations, seems to arise 
 chiefly from two causes: First, from an apprehen- 
 sion that the subjects about which they are em- 
 ployed are placed beyond the reach of the human fa- 
 culties ; and, secondly, from a belief that these sub- 
 jects have no relation to the business of life. 
 
 The frivolous and absurd discussions which 
 abound in the writings of most Metaphysical authors, 
 afford but too many arguments in justification of 
 these opinions ; and if such discussions were to be 
 admitted as a fair specimen of what the human mind 
 is able to accomplish in this department of science, 
 the contempt, into which it has fallen of late, might 
 with justice be regarded, as no inconsiderable evi-
 
 2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 denceof the progress which true philosophyhas made 
 in the present age. Among the various subjects of 
 inquiry, however, which, in consequence of the vague 
 use of language, are comprehended under the gene- 
 ral title of Metaphysics, there are some, which are 
 essentially distinguished from the rest, both by the 
 degree of evidence which accompanies their prin- 
 ciples, and by the relation which they bear to the 
 useful sciences and arts : and it has unfortunately 
 happened, that these have shared in that general 
 discredit, into which the other branches of meta- 
 physics have justly fallen. To this circumstance is 
 probably to be ascribed, the little progress which 
 has hitherto' been made in the PHILOSOPHY OF THE 
 HUB/TAN MIND ; a science, so interesting in its na- 
 ture, and so important in its applications, that it 
 could scarcely have failed, in these inquisitive and 
 enlightened times, to have excited a very general 
 attention, if it had not accidentally been classed, in 
 the public opinion, with the vain and unprofitable 
 disquisitions of the school-men. 
 
 In order to obviate these misapprehensions with 
 respect to the subject of the following work, I have 
 thought it proper, in this preliminary chapter, first, 
 to explain the Nature of the truths which I propose 
 to investigate ; and, secondly, to point out some of 
 the more important Applications of which they are 
 susceptible. In stating these preliminary observa- 
 tions, I may perhaps appear to some to be minute 
 and tedious j but this fault, I am confident, will be 
 readily pardoned by those, who have studied with 
 care the principles of that science of which I am to 
 treat: and who are anxious to remove the prejudices 
 
 ii -
 
 Part I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 3 
 
 which have, in a great measure, excluded it from 
 the modern systems of education. In the progress 
 of my work, I flatter myself that I shall not often 
 have occasion to solicit the indulgence of myreaders, 
 for an unnecessary diffuseness. 
 
 The notions we annex to the words, Matter, and 
 Mind, as is well remarked by Dr. Reid *, are merely 
 relative. If I am asked, what I mean by Matter ? 
 I can only explain myself by say ing, it is that which 
 is extended, figured, coloured, moveable, hard or 
 soft, rough or smooth, hot or cold ; that is, I can 
 define it in no other way than by enumerating its 
 sensible qualities. It is not matter, or body, which I 
 perceive by my senses ; but only extension, figure, 
 colour, and certain other qualities, which the con- 
 stitution of my nature leads me to refer to some- 
 thing, which is extended, figured, and coloured. 
 The case is precisely similar with respect to Mind. 
 We are not immediately conscious of its existence, 
 but we are conscious of sensation, thought, and 
 volition ; operations, which imply the existence of 
 something which feels, thinks, and wills. Every 
 man too is impressed with an irresistible conviction, 
 that all these sensations, thoughts, and volitions, be- 
 long to one and the same being; to that being, which 
 he calls himself; a being, which he is led, by the con- 
 stitution of his nature, to consider as something 
 distinct from his body, and as not liable to be im- 
 paired by the loss or mutilation of any of his organs. 
 
 From these considerations, it appears, that we 
 have the same evidence for the existence of mind, 
 that we have for the existence of body 5 nay, if there 
 
 * Essays on the Active Powers of Man, p. 8, 9. 
 B 2
 
 4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 be any difference between the two cases, that we 
 have stronger evidence for it ; inasmuch as the one 
 is suggested to us by the subjects of our own con- 
 sciousness, and the other merely by the objects of 
 our perceptions : and in this light, undoubtedly, 
 the fact would appear to every person, were it not, 
 that, from our earliest years, the attention is en- 
 grossed with the qualities and laws of matter, an ac- 
 quaintance with which is absolutely necessary for 
 the preservation of our animal existence. Hence it 
 is, that these phenomena occupy our thoughts more 
 than those of mind ; that we are perpetually tempted 
 to explain the latter by the analogy of the former, 
 and even to endeavour to refer them to the same 
 general laws ; and that we acquire habits of inatten- 
 tion to the subjects of our consciousness, too strong 
 to be afterwards surmounted, without the most per- 
 severing industry. 
 
 If the foregoing observations be well founded, 
 they establish the distinction between mind and mat- 
 ter, without any long process of metaphysical rea- 
 soning * : for if our notions of both are merely rela- 
 tive ; if we know the one, only by such sensible 
 qualities as extension^ figure, and solidity ; and 
 the other, by such operations as sensation, thought, 
 and volition ; we are certainly entitled to say, that 
 matter and mind, considered as objects of human 
 study, are essentially different ; the science of the 
 former resting ultimately on the phenomena ex- 
 hibited to our senses ; that of the latter, on the 
 phenomena of which we are conscious. Instead, 
 therefore, of objecting to the scheme of materialism, 
 * See Note [A], at the end of the volume.
 
 Part I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 5 
 
 that its conclusions are false, it would be more accu- 
 rate to say, that its aim is unphilosophical. It pro- 
 ceeds on a misapprehension of the proper object of 
 science ; the difficulty which it professes to remove 
 being manifestly placed beyond the reach of our fa- 
 culties. Surely, when we attempt to explain the 
 nature of that principle which feels and thinks and 
 wills, by saying, that it is a material substance, or 
 that it is the result of material organization, we im- 
 pose on ourselves by words ; forgetting, that matter 
 as well as mind is known to us by its qualities and 
 attributes alone, and that we are totally ignorant of 
 the essence of either. * 
 
 As all our knowledge of the material world is 
 derived from the information of our senses, Natural 
 philosophers have, in modern times, wisely aban- 
 doned to Metaphysicians, all speculations concern- 
 ing the nature of that substance of which it is 
 composed ; concerning the possibility or impossibi- 
 lity of its being created ; concerning the efficient 
 causes of the changes which take place in it ; and 
 even concerning the reality of its existence, inde- 
 pendent of that of percipient beings : and have 
 confined themselves to the humbler province of ob- 
 
 * Some Metaphysicians, who appear to admit the truth ofthe 
 foregoing reasoning, have farther urged, that for any thing we 
 can prove to the contrary, it is possible, that the unknown sub- 
 stance which has the qualities of extension, figure, and colour, 
 may be the same with the unknown substance which has the at- 
 tributes of feeling, thinking, and willing. But besides that this 
 is only an hypothesis, which amounts to nothing more than a 
 mere possibility, even if it were true, it would no more be proper 
 to say of mind, that it is material, than to say of body, that it is 
 spiritual. 
 
 B 3
 
 O ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 serving the phenomena it exhibits, and of ascertain- 
 ing their general laws. By pursuing this plan 
 steadily, they have, in the course of the two last 
 centuries, formed a body of science, which not 
 only does honour to the human understanding, but 
 has had a most important influence on the practical 
 arts of life. This experimental philosophy, no one 
 now is in danger of confounding with the metaphy- 
 sical speculations already mentioned. Of the im- 
 portance of these, as a separate branch of study, it 
 is possible that some may think more favourably 
 than others; but they are obviously different in 
 their nature from the investigations of physics ; and 
 it is of the utmost consequence to the evidence of 
 this last science, that its principles should not be 
 blended with those of the former. 
 
 A similar distinction takes place among the 
 questions which may be stated relative to the human 
 mind. Whether it be extended or unextended; 
 whether or not it has any relation to place ; and (if 
 it has) whether it resides in the brain, or be spread 
 over the body, by diffusion ; are questions perfectly 
 analogous to those which Metaphysicians have 
 started on the subject of matter. It is unnecessary 
 to enquire, at present, whether or not they admit of 
 answer. It is sufficient for my purpose to remark, 
 that they are as widely and obviously different from 
 the view which I propose to take of the human 
 mind in the following work, as the reveries of 
 Berkeley concerning the non-existence of the mate- 
 rial world, are from the conclusions of Newton and 
 his followers. It is farther evident, that the me- 
 taphysical opinions which we may happen to have
 
 I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 7 
 
 formed concerning the nature either of body or of 
 mind, and the efficient causes by which their phe- 
 nomena are produced, have no necessary connexion 
 with our inquiries concerning the laws according 
 to which these phenomena take place. Whether 
 (for example) the cause of gravitation be material 
 or immaterial, is a point about which two Newtonians 
 may differ, while they agree perfectly in their physi- 
 cal opinions. It is sufficient, if both admit the ge- 
 neral fact, that bodies tend to approach each other, 
 with a force varying with their mutual distance, 
 according to a certain law. In like manner, in the 
 study of the human mind, the conclusions to which 
 we are led, by a careful examination of the pheno- 
 mena it exhibits, have no necessary connexion with 
 our opinions concerning its nature and essence. 
 That when two subjects of thought, for instance, 
 have been repeatedly presented to the mind in con- 
 junction, the one has a tendency to suggest the 
 other, is a fact of which I can no more doubt, than 
 of any thing for which I have the evidence of my 
 senses ; and it is plainly a fact totally unconnected 
 with any hypothesis concerning the nature of the 
 soul, and which will be as readily admitted by the 
 materialist as by the Berkeleian. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the reality and im- 
 portance of this distinction, it has not hitherto been 
 sufficiently attended to, by the philosophers who 
 have treated of the human mind. Dr. Reid is perhaps 
 the only one who has perceived it clearly, or at least 
 who has kept it steadily in view, in all his inquiries. 
 In the writings, indeed, of several other modern 
 Metaphysicians, we meet with a variety of import- 
 
 B 4
 
 8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introc*. 
 
 ant and well-ascertained facts ; but, in general, 
 these facts are blended with speculations upon sub- 
 jects which are placed beyond the reach of the hu- 
 man faculties. > It is this mixture of fact, and 
 of hypothesis, which has brought the philosophy of 
 mind into some degree of discredit ; nor will ever 
 its real value be generally acknowledged, till the 
 distinction I have endeavoured to illustrate, be un- 
 derstood, and attended to, by those who speculate 
 on the subject. By confining their attention to 
 the sensible qualities of body, and to the sensible 
 phenomena it exhibits, we know what discoveries 
 natural philosophers have made : and if the labours 
 of Metaphysicians shall ever be rewarded with si- 
 milar success, it can only be, by attentive .and pa- 
 tient reflection on the subjects of their own con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 I cannot help taking this opportunity of remark- 
 ing, on the other hand, that if physical inquirers 
 should think of again employing themselves in spe- 
 culations about the nature of matter, instead of 
 attempting to ascertain its sensible properties and 
 laws, (and of late there seems to be such a tendency 
 among some of the followers of Boscovich,) they 
 will soon involve themselves in an inextricable 
 labyrinth, and the first principles of physics will be 
 rendered as mysterious and chimerical, as the 
 pneumatology of the school-men. 
 
 The little progress which has hitherto been made 
 in the philosophy of mind, will not appear sur- 
 prising to those who have attended to the his- 
 tory of natural knowledge. It is only since the 
 time of Lord Bacon, that the study of it has been
 
 Part I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 9 
 
 prosecuted with any degree of success, or that 
 the proper method of conducting it has been ge- 
 nerally understood. There is even some reason for 
 doubting, from the crude speculations on medical 
 and chemical subjects which are daily offered to the 
 public, whether it be yet understood so completely 
 as is commonly imagined ; and whether a fuller illus- 
 tration of the rules of philosophising, than Bacon or 
 his followers have given, might not be useful, even 
 to physical inquirers. 
 
 When we reflect, in this manner, on the shortness 
 of the period during which natural philosophy has 
 been successfully cultivated j and, at the same time, 
 consider how open to our examination the laws of 
 matter are, in comparison of those which regulate the 
 phenomena of thought, we shall neither be disposed 
 to wonder, that the philosophy of mind should still 
 remain in its infancy, nor be discouraged in our hopes 
 concerning itsfutureprogress. The excellent models 
 of this species of investigation, which the writings of 
 Dr. Reid exhibit, give us ground to expect that the 
 time is not far distant, when it shall assume that rank 
 which it is entitled to hold among the sciences. 
 
 It would probably contribute much to accelerate 
 the progress of the philosophy of mind, if a distinct 
 explanation were given of its nature and object ; and 
 if some general rules were laid down, with respect 
 to the proper method of conducting the study of it. 
 To this subject, however, which s ot sufficient ex- 
 tent to furnish matter for a separate work, I cannot 
 attempt to do justice at present - t and shall there- 
 fore confine myself to the illustration of a few 
 fundamental principles, which it will be of essential 
 
 9
 
 10 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 importance for us to keep in view in the following 
 inquiries. 
 
 Upon a slight attention to the operations of our 
 own minds, they appear to be so complicated, and so 
 infinitely diversified, that it seems to be impossible to 
 reduce them to any general laws. In consequence, 
 however, of a more accurate examination, the pro- 
 spect clears up ; and the phenomena, which appear- 
 ed, at first, to be too various for our comprehension, 
 are found to be the result of a comparatively small 
 number of simple and uncompounded faculties, or 
 of simple and uncompounded principles of action. 
 These faculties and principles are the general laws 
 of our constitution, and hold the same place in the 
 philosophy of mind, that the general laws we inves- 
 tigate in physics, hold in that branch of science. 
 In both cases, the laws which nature has established, 
 are to be investigated only by an examination of 
 facts ; and in both cases, a knowledge of these laws 
 leads to an explanation of an infinite number of 
 phenomena. 
 
 In the investigation of physical laws, it is well 
 known, that our inquiries must always terminate in 
 some general fact, of which no account can be given, 
 but that such is the constitution of nature. After 
 we have established, for example, from the astrono- 
 mical phenomena, the universality of the law of gra- 
 vitation, it may still be asked, whether this law im- 
 plies the constant agency of mind ; and (upon the 
 supposition that it does) whether it be probable that 
 the Deity always operates immediately, or by means 
 of subordinate instruments ? But these questions, 
 however curious, do not fall under the province of
 
 p art I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 11 
 
 the natural philosopher. It is sufficient for his pur- 
 pose, if the universality of the fact be admitted. 
 
 The case is exactly the same in the philosophy of 
 mind. When we have once ascertained a general 
 fact ; such as, the various laws which regulate the 
 association of ideas, or the dependence of memory 
 on that effort of the mind which we call, Attention; 
 it is all we ought to aim at, in this branch of science. 
 If we proceed no farther than facts for which we 
 have the evidence of our own consciousness, our con- 
 clusions will be no less certain, than those in phy- 
 sics : but if our curiosity leads us to attempt an 
 explanation of the association of ideas, by certain 
 supposed vibrations, or other changes, in the state 
 of the brain ; or to explain memory, by means of sup- 
 posed impressions and traces in the sensorium ; we 
 evidently blend a collection of important and well- 
 ascertained truths, with principles which rest wholly 
 on conjecture. * 
 
 * There is indeed one view of the connexion between Mind 
 and Matter, which is perfectly agreeable to the just rules of 
 philosophy. The object of this is, to ascertain the laws which 
 regulate their union, without attempting to explain in what 
 manner they are united. 
 
 Lord Bacon was, I believe, the first who gave a distinct idea 
 of this sort of speculation ; and I do not know that much pro- 
 gress has yet been made in it. In his books de Augmentis Scien- 
 tiarum, a variety of subjects are enumerated, in order to illus- 
 trate its nature; and, undoubtedly, most of these are in a high 
 degree curious and important. The following list comprehends 
 the chief of those he has mentioned ; with the addition of several 
 others, recommended to the consideration of Philosophers and 
 of Medical Inquirers, by the late Dr. Gregory. See his Lectures 
 on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. 
 
 1. The doctrine of the preservation and improvement, of the 
 different senses.
 
 12 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 The observations which have been now stated, 
 with respect to the proper limits of philosophical 
 curiosity, have too frequently escaped the attention 
 of speculative men, in all the different departments 
 of science. In none of these, however, has this in- 
 attention produced such a variety of errors and ab- 
 surdities, as in the science of mind ; a subject to 
 which, till of late, it does not seem to have been 
 suspected, that the general rules of philosophising 
 are applicable. The strange mixture of fact and 
 
 2. The history of the power and influence of imagination. 
 
 3. The history of the several species of enthusiasm . 
 
 4. The history of the various circumstances in parents, that 
 have an influence on conception, and the constitution and cha- 
 racters of their children. 
 
 5. The history of dreams. 
 
 6. The history of the laws of custom and habit. 
 
 7. The history of the effects of music, and of such other 
 things as operate on the mind and body, in consequence of im- 
 pressions made on the senses. 
 
 8. The history of natural signs and language, comprehending 
 the doctrine of physiognomy and of outward gesture. 
 
 9. The history of the power and laws of the principle of imi- 
 tation. 
 
 To this list various other subjects might be added ; par- 
 ticularly, the history of the laws of memory, in so far as they 
 appear to be connected with the state of the body ; and the his. 
 tory of the different species of madness. 
 
 This view of the connexion between Mind and Matter does 
 not fall properly under the plan of the following work ; in which 
 my leading object is to ascertain the principles of our nature, in 
 so far as they can be discovered by attention to the subjects of 
 our own consciousness ; and to apply these principles to explain 
 the phenomena arising from them. Various incidental remarks, 
 however, will occur in the course of our inquiries, tending to 
 illustrate some of the subjects comprehended in the foregoing 
 enumeration.
 
 Part I. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 13 
 
 hypothesis, which the greater part of metaphysical 
 inquiries exhibit, had led almost universally to a 
 belief, that it is only a very faint and doubtful light, 
 which human reason can ever expect to throw on 
 this dark, but interesting, field of speculation. 
 
 Beside this inattention to the proper limits of phi- 
 losophical inquiry, other sources of error, from which 
 the science of physics is entirely exempted, have 
 contributed to retard the progress of the philosophy 
 of mind. Of these, the most important proceed 
 from that disposition which is so natural to every 
 person at the commencement of his philosophical 
 pursuits, to explain intellectual and moral pheno- 
 mena by the analogy of the material world. 
 
 I before took notice of those habits of inattention 
 to the subjects of our consciousness, which take their 
 rise in that period of our lives when we are necessa- 
 rily employed in acquiring a knowledge of the pro- 
 perties and laws of matter. In consequence of this 
 early familiarity with the phenomena of the material 
 world, they appear to us less mysterious than those 
 x>f mind ; and we are apt to think that we have 
 advanced one step in explaining the latter, when we 
 can point out some analogy between them and the 
 former. It is owing to the same circumstance, that 
 we have scarcely any appropriated language with 
 respect to mind, and that the words which express 
 its different operations, are almost all borrowed-from 
 the objects of our senses. It must, however, appear 
 manifest, upon a very little reflection, that as the 
 two subjects are essentially distinct, and as each of 
 them has its peculiar laws, the analogies we are 
 pleased to % fancy between them, can be of no use in
 
 14 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 illustrating either ; and that it is no less unphiloso- 
 phical to attempt an explanation of perception, or 
 of the association of ideas, upon mechanical prin- 
 .ciples ; than it would be to explain the phenomena 
 of gravitation, by supposing, as some of the ancients 
 did, the particles of matter to be animated with 
 principles of motion ; or to explain the chemical 
 phenomena of elective attractions, by supposing the 
 substances among which they are observed, to be 
 endowed with thought and volition. The analogy 
 of matter, therefore, can be of no use in the inqui- 
 ries which form the object of the following work ; 
 but, on the contrary, is to be guarded against, as 
 one of the principal sources of the errors to which 
 we are liable. 
 
 Among the different philosophers who have spe- 
 culated concerning the human mind, very few in- 
 deed can be mentioned, who have at all times been 
 able to guard against analogical theories. At the 
 same time, it must be acknowledged, that since the 
 publication of Des Cartes' writings, there has been a 
 gradual, and, on the whole, a very remarkable im- 
 provement in this branch of science. One striking 
 proof of this is, the contrast between the metaphy- 
 sical speculations of some of the most eminent phi- 
 losophers in England at the end of the last century, 
 and those which we find in the systems, however 
 imperfect, of the present age. Would any writer 
 now offer to the world, such conclusions with respect 
 to the mind, as are contained in the two following 
 passages from Locke and Newton? " Habits," 
 (says Locke,) " seem to be but trains of motion, in 
 " the animal spirits, which, once set-a-going, con-
 
 p art l. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 15 
 
 " tinue in the same steps they had been used to, 
 which, by often treading, are worn into a smooth 
 " path." And Newton himself has proposed the 
 following query, concerning the manner in which 
 the mind perceives external objects. " Is not," (says 
 he,) " the sensorium of animals the place where the 
 " sentient substance is present, and to which the sen- 
 " sible species of things are brought, through the 
 " nerves and brain, that they may be perceived by 
 " the mind present in that place ?" In the course 
 of the following Essays, I shall have occasion to quote 
 various other passages from later writers, in which 
 an attempt is made to explain the other phenomena 
 of mind, upon similar principles. 
 
 It is, however, much to be regretted, that even 
 since the period when philosophers began to adopt 
 a more rational plan of inquiry with respect to such 
 subjects, they have been obliged to spend so much 
 of their time in clearing away the rubbish collected 
 by their predecessors. This, indeed, was a preli- 
 minary step, which the state of the science, and the 
 conclusions to which it had led, rendered absolutely 
 necessary ; for however important the positive ad- 
 vantages may be which are to be expected from its 
 future progress, they are by no means so essential to 
 human improvement and happiness, as a satisfactory 
 refutation of that sceptical philosophy, which had 
 struck at the root of all knowledge, and all belief. 
 Such a refutation seems to have been the principal 
 object which Dr. Reid proposed to himself in his me- 
 taphysical inquiries ; and to this object his labours 
 have been directed with so much ability, candour, 
 and perseverance, that unless future sceptics should
 
 16 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introcl- 
 
 occupy a ground very different from that of their 
 predecessors, it is not likely that the controversy will 
 ever be renewed. The rubbish being now removed, 
 and the foundations laid, it is time to begin the su- 
 perstructure. The progress which I have made in 
 it is, I am sensible, very inconsiderable ; yet I flatter 
 myself that the little 1 have done, will be sufficient 
 to illustrate the importance of the study, and to re- 
 commend the subjects of which I am to treat, to 
 the attention of others. 
 
 After the remarks which I have now made, the 
 reader will not be surprised to find, that I have stu- 
 diously avoided the consideration of those questions 
 which have been agitated in the present age, between 
 the patrons of the sceptical philosophy, and their 
 opponents. These controversies have, in truth, no 
 peculiar connexion with the inquiries on which I am 
 to enter. It is, indeed, only by an examination of 
 the principles of our nature, that they can be brought 
 to a satisfactory conclusion j but supposing them 
 to remain undecided, our sceptical doubts concern- 
 ing the certainty of human knowledge, would no 
 more affect the philosophy of mind, than they would 
 affect any of the branches of physics ; nor would our 
 doubts concerning even the existence of mind, affect 
 this branch of science, any more than the doubts of 
 the Berkeleian, concerning the existence of matter, 
 affect his opinions in natural philosophy. 
 
 To what purposes the philosophy of the human 
 mind, according to the view which I propose to take 
 of it, is subservient, I shall endeavour to explain, 
 at some length, in the following section.
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 17 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Utility of the Philosophy of the Human Mind. 
 
 IT has been often remarked, that there is a mutual 
 connexion between the different arts and sciences ; 
 and that the improvements which are made in one 
 branch of human knowledge, frequently throw light 
 on others, to which it has apparently a very remote 
 relation. The modern discoveries in astronomy, and 
 in pure mathematics, have contributed to bring the 
 art of navigation to a degree of perfection formerly 
 unknown. The rapid progress which has been 
 lately made in astronomy, anatomy, and botany, has 
 been chiefly owing to the aid which these sciences 
 have received from the art of the optician. 
 
 Although, however, the different departments 
 of science and of art mutually reflect light on each 
 other, it is not always necessary either for the phi- 
 losopher or the artist to aim at the acquisition of 
 general knowledge. Both of them may safely take 
 many principles for granted, without being able to 
 demonstrate their truth. A seaman, though igno- 
 rant of mathematics, may apply, with correctness 
 and dexterity, the rules for finding the longitude : 
 an astronomer, or a botanist, though ignorant of 
 optics, may avail himself of the use of the tele- 
 scope, or the microscope. 
 
 c
 
 18 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 These observations are daily exemplified in the 
 case of the artist ; who has seldom either inclin- 
 ation or leisure to speculate concerning the prin- 
 ciples of his art. It is rarely, however, we meet 
 with a man of science, who has confined his stu- 
 dies wholly to one branch of knowledge. That 
 curiosity, which he has been accustomed to indulge 
 in the course of his favourite pursuit, will naturally 
 extend itself to every remarkable object which 
 falls under his observation ; and can scarcely fail 
 to be a source of perpetual dissatisfaction to his 
 mind, till it has been so far gratified as to enable 
 him to explain all the various phenomena, which 
 his professional habits are every day presenting to 
 his view. 
 
 As every particular science is in this manner con- 
 nected with others, to which it naturally directs 
 the attention, so all the pursuits of life, whether 
 they terminate in speculation or action, are con- 
 nected with that general science, which has the 
 human mind for its object. The powers of the 
 understanding are instruments which all men em- 
 ploy ; and his curiosity must be small indeed, who 
 passes through life in a total ignorance of faculties, 
 which his wants and necessities force him habitu- 
 ally to exercise, and which so remarkably distin- 
 guish man from the lower animals. The active 
 principles of our nature, which, by their various 
 modifications and combinations, give rise to all 
 the moral differences among men, are fitted, in a 
 still higher degree, if possible, to interest those, 
 who are either disposed to reflect on their own 
 characters, or to observe, . with attention, the cha-
 
 Part II. $1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 19 
 
 racters of others. The phenomena resulting from 
 these faculties and principles of the mind, are 
 every moment soliciting our notice ; and open to 
 our examination, a field of discovery, as inex- 
 haustible as the phenomena of the material world ; 
 and exhibiting not less striking marks of divine 
 wisdom. 
 
 While all the sciences, and all the pursuits of 
 life, have this common tendency to lead our in- 
 quiries to the philosophy of human nature, this last 
 branch of knowledge borrows its principles from no 
 other science whatever. Hence there is something 
 in the study of it, which is peculiarly gratifying to 
 a reflecting and inquisitive mind ; and something 
 in the conclusions to which it leads, on which the 
 mind rests with peculiar satisfaction. Till once our 
 opinions are in some degree fixed with respect to 
 it, we abandon ourselves, with reluctance, to parti- 
 cular scientific investigations ; and on the other 
 hand, a general knowledge of such of its principles 
 as are most fitted to excite the curiosity, not only 
 prepares us for engaging in other pursuits with more 
 liberal and comprehensive views, but leaves us at 
 liberty to prosecute them with a more undivided 
 and concentrated attention. 
 
 It is not, however, merely as a subject of specu- 
 lative curiosity, that the principles of the human 
 mind deserve a careful examination. The advan- 
 tages to be expected from a successful analysis of 
 it are various ; and some of them of such import- 
 ance, as to render it astonishing, that, amidst all the 
 success with which the subordinate sciences have 
 been cultivated, this, which comprehends the prin- 
 
 c 2
 
 20 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 ciples of all of them, should be still suffered to 
 remain in its infancy. 
 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate a few of these 
 advantages, beginning with what appears to me to 
 be the most important of any ; the light, which a 
 philosophical analysis of the principles of the mind 
 would necessarily throw, on the subjects of intel- 
 lectual and moral education. 
 
 The most essential objects of education are the 
 two following : First, to cultivate all the various 
 principles of our nature, both speculative and 
 active, in such a manner as to bring them to the 
 greatest perfection of which they are susceptible ; 
 and, Secondly, by watching over the impressions 
 and associations which the mind receives in early 
 life, to secure it against the influence of prevailing 
 errors ; and, as far as possible, to engage its pre- 
 possessions on the side of truth. It is only upon a 
 philosophical analysis of the mind, that a systema- 
 tical plan can be founded, for the accomplishment 
 of either of these purposes. 
 
 There are few individuals, whose education has 
 been conducted in every respect with attention 
 and judgment. Almost every man of reflection 
 is conscious, when he arrives at maturity, of many 
 defects in his mental powers; and of many in- 
 convenient habits, which might have been pre- 
 vented or remedied in his infancy or youth. Such 
 a consciousness is the first step towards improve- 
 ment ; and the person who feels it, if he is pos- 
 sessed of resolution and steadiness, will not 
 scruple to begin, even in advanced years, a new 
 course f education for himself. The degree of
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 21 
 
 reflection and observation, indeed, which is neces- 
 sary for this purpose, cannot be expected from any 
 one at a very early period of life, as these are 
 the last powers of the mind which unfold them- 
 selves ; but it is never too late to think of the im- 
 provement of our faculties ; and much progress may 
 be made, in the art of applying them successfully 
 to their proper objects, or in obviating the incon- 
 veniences resulting from their imperfection, not 
 only in manhood, but in old age. 
 
 It is not, however, to the mistakes of our early in- 
 structors, that all our intellectual defects are to be 
 ascribed. There is no profession or pursuit which 
 has not habits peculiar to itself; and which does not 
 leave some powers of the mind dormant, while it 
 exercises and improves the rest. If we wish, there- 
 fore, to cultivate the mind to the extent of its capa- 
 city, we must not rest satisfied with that employ- 
 ment which its faculties receive from our particular 
 situation in life. t is not in the awkward and pro- 
 fessional form of a mechanic, who has strengthened 
 particular muscles of his body by the habits of his 
 trade, that we are to look for the perfection of our 
 animal nature : neither is it among men of confined 
 pursuits, whether speculative or active, that we are 
 to expect to find the human mind in its highest state 
 of cultivation. A variety of exercises is necessary 
 to preserve the animal frame in vigour and beauty j 
 and a variety of those occupations which literature 
 and science afford, added to a promiscuous inter- 
 course with the world, in the habits of conversation 
 and business, is no less necessary for the improve- 
 ment of the understanding. I acknowledge, that 
 
 c 3
 
 22 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Jntrod. 
 
 there are some professions, in which a man of very 
 confined acquisitions may arrive at the first emi- 
 nence ; and in which he will perhaps be the more 
 likely to excel, the more he has concentrated the 
 whole force of his mind to one particular object. 
 But such a person, however distinguished in his 
 own sphere, is educated merely to be a literary 
 artisan ; and neither attains the perfection, nor the 
 happiness of his nature. " That education only can 
 " be considered as complete and generous, which" 
 (in the language of Milton) " fits a man to perform 
 " justly, skilfully, and magnanimously, all the of- 
 " fices, both private and public, of peace, and of 
 " war." * 
 
 I hope it will not be supposed, from the foregoing 
 observations, that they are meant to recommend an 
 indiscriminate attention to all the objects of specu- 
 lation and of action. Nothing can be more evident, 
 than the necessity of limiting the field of our exer- 
 tion, if we wish to benefit society by our labours. 
 But it is perfectly consistent with the most intense 
 application to' our favourite pursuit, to cultivate that 
 general acquaintance with letters and with the 
 world, which may be sufficient to enlarge the mind, 
 and to preserve it from any danger of contracting 
 the pedantry of a particular profession. In many 
 cases, (as was already remarked), the sciences re- 
 flect light on each other ; and the general acquisi- 
 tions which we have made in other pursuits, may 
 furnish us with useful helps for the farther prosecu- 
 tion of our own. But even in those instances in 
 which the case is otherwise, and in which these 
 
 * Tractate of Education.
 
 Part II. $ 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 23 
 
 liberal accomplishments must be purchased by the 
 sacrifice of a part of our professional eminence, the 
 acquisition of them will amply repay any loss we 
 may sustain. It ought not to be the leading object 
 of any one, to become an eminent metaphysician, 
 mathematician, or poet; but to render himself happy 
 as an individual, and an agreeable, a respectable, 
 and an useful member of society. A man who loses 
 his sight, improves the sensibility of his touch : but 
 who would consent, for such a recompence, to part 
 with the pleasures which he receives from the eye ? 
 
 It is almost unnecessary for me to remark, how 
 much individuals would be assisted in the proper and 
 liberal culture of the mind, if they were previously 
 led to take a comprehensive survey of human nature 
 in all its parts ; of its various faculties, and powers, 
 and sources of enjoyment ; and of the effects which 
 are produced on these principles by particular situa- 
 tions. It is such a knowledge alone of the capaci- 
 ties of the mind, that can enable a person to judge 
 of his own acquisitions j and to employ the most 
 effectual means for supplying his defects, and re- 
 moving his inconvenient habits. Without some de- 
 gree of it, every man is in danger of contracting bad 
 habits, before he is aware ; and of suffering some of 
 his powers to go to decay, for want of proper exercise. 
 
 If the business of early education were more tho- 
 roughly, and more generally, understood, it would 
 be less necessary for individuals, when they arrive 
 at maturity, to form plans of improvement for them- 
 selves. But education never can be systematically 
 directed to its proper objects, till we have obtained, 
 not only an accurate analysis of the general prin- 
 
 c 4
 
 24 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 ciples of our nature, and an account of the most im- 
 portant laws which regulate their operation ; but 
 an explanation of the various modifications and com- 
 binations of these principles, which produce that 
 diversity of talents, genius, and character, we ob- 
 serve among men. To instruct youth in the lan- 
 guages, and in the sciences, is comparatively of little 
 importance, if we are inattentive to the habits they 
 acquire ; and are not careful in giving, to all their 
 different faculties, and all their different principles 
 of action, a proper degree of employment. Ab- 
 stracting entirely from the culture of their moral 
 powers, how extensive and difficult is the business 
 of conducting their intellectual improvement ! To 
 watch over the associations which they form in their 
 tender years ; to give them early habits of mental 
 activity ; to rouse their curiosity, and to direct it to 
 proper objects ; to exercise their ingenuity and in- 
 vention; to cultivate in their minds a turn for specu- 
 lation, and at the same time preserve their atten- 
 tion alive to the objects around them ; to awaken 
 their sensibilities to the beauties of nature, and to 
 inspire them with a relish for intellectual enjoy- 
 ment ; these form but a part of the business of 
 education ; and yet the execution even of this part 
 requires an acquaintance with the general principles 
 of our nature, which seldom falls to the share of 
 those to whom the instruction of youth is commonly 
 intrusted. Nor will such a theoretical knowledge 
 of the human mind, as I have now described, be 
 always sufficient in practice. An uncommon degree 
 of sagacity is frequently requisite, in order to accom- 
 modate general rules to particular tempers, and cha-
 
 Part II. $ 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 25 
 
 racters. In whatever way we chuse to account 
 for it, whether by original organisation, or by the 
 operation of moral causes, in very early infancy ; no 
 fact can be more undeniable, than that there are im- 
 portant differences discernible in the minds of chil- 
 dren, previous to that period at which, in general, 
 their intellectual education commences. There is, 
 too, a certain hereditary character (whether result- 
 ing from physical constitution, or caught from imi- 
 tation and the influence of situation), which appears 
 remarkably in particular families. One race, for a 
 succession of generations, is distinguished byagenius 
 for the abstract sciences, while it is deficient in viva- 
 city, in imagination, and in taste : another is no less 
 distinguished for wit, and gaiety, and fancy ; while it 
 appears incapable of patient attention, or of pro- 
 found research. The system of education which is 
 proper to be adopted in particular cases, ought, un- 
 doubtedly, to have some reference to these circum- 
 stances ; and to be calculated, as much as possible, 
 to develope and to cherish those intellectual and 
 active principles, in which a natural deficiency is 
 most to be apprehended. Montesquieu, and other 
 speculative politicians, have insisted much on the 
 reference which education and laws should have to 
 climate. I shall not take upon me to say, how far 
 their conclusions on this subject are just ; but I am 
 fully persuaded, that there is a foundation in philo- 
 sophy, andgood sense, for accommodating, at a very 
 early period of life, the education of individuals to 
 those particular turns of mind, to which, from here- 
 ditary propensities, or from moral situation, they 
 may be presumed to have a natural tendency.
 
 26 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 There are few subjects more hackneyed than that 
 of education ; and yet there is none, upon which the 
 opinions of the world are still more divided. Nor is 
 this surprising ; for most of those who have specu- 
 lated concerning it, have confined their attention 
 chiefly to incidental questions about the compara- 
 tive advantages of public or private instruction, or 
 the utility of particular languages or sciences ; with- 
 out attempting a previous examination of those facul- 
 ties and principles of the mind, which it is the great 
 object of education to improve. Many excellent 
 detached observations, indeed, both on the intel- 
 lectual and moral powers, are to be collected from 
 the writings of ancient and modern authors ; but I 
 do not know, that in any language an attempt has 
 been made to analyse and illustrate the principles of 
 human nature, in order to lay a philosophical foun- 
 dation for their proper culture. 
 
 I have even heard some very ingenious and 
 intelligent men dispute the propriety of so system- 
 atical a plan of instruction. The most successful and 
 splendid exertions, both in the sciences and arts, 
 (it has been frequently remarked), have been made 
 by individuals, in whose minds the seeds of genius 
 were allowed to shoot up, wild and free ; while, from 
 the most careful and skilful tuition, seldom any thing 
 results above mediocrity. I shall not, at present, 
 enter into any discussions with respect to the cer- 
 tainty of the fact on which this opinion is founded. 
 Supposing the fact to be completely established, it 
 must still be remembered, that originality of genius 
 does not always imply vigour and comprehensiveness, 
 and liberality of mind ; and that it is desirable only,
 
 Part II # 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 27 
 
 in so far as it is compatible with these more valuable 
 qualities. I already hinted, that there are some pur- 
 suits, in which, as they require the exertion only of a 
 small number of our faculties, an individual, who has 
 a natural turn for them, will be more likely to distin- 
 guish himself, by being suffered to follow his original 
 bias, than if his attention were distracted by a more 
 liberal course of study. But wherever such men are 
 to be found, they must be considered, on the most 
 favourable supposition, as having sacrificed, to a 
 certain degree, the perfection and the happiness of 
 their nature, to the amusement or instruction of 
 others. It is, too, in times of general darkness and 
 barbarism, that what is commonly called originality 
 of genius most frequently appears : and surely the 
 great aim of an enlightened and benevolent philo- 
 sophy, is not to rear a small number of individuals, 
 who may be regarded as prodigies in an ignorant 
 and admiring age, but to diffuse, as widely as pos- 
 sible, that degree of cultivation which may enable 
 the bulk of a people to possess all the intellectual 
 and moral improvement of which their nature is sus- 
 ceptible. " Original genius" (says Voltaire) " oc- 
 " curs but seldom in a nation where the literarytaste 
 " is formed. The number of cultivated minds which 
 " there abound, like the trees in a thick and flourish- 
 " ing forest, prevent any single individual from 
 " rearing his head far above the rest. \Vhere trade 
 " is in few hands, we meet with a small number of 
 " over-grown fortunes in the midst of a general 
 " poverty : in proportion as it extends, opulence be- 
 " comes general, and great fortunes rare. It is, 
 " precisely, because there is at present much light*
 
 28 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 " and much cultivation, in France, that we are led 
 " to complain of the want of superior genius." 
 
 To what purpose, indeed, it may be said, all this 
 labour ? Is not the importance of every thing to 
 man, to be ultimately estimated by its tendency to 
 promote his happiness ? And is not our daily expe- 
 rience sufficient to convince us, that this is, in gene- 
 ral, by no means proportioned to the culture which 
 his nature has received ? Nay, is there not some 
 ground for suspecting, that the lower orders of men 
 enjoy, on the whole, a more enviable condition, than 
 their more enlightened and refined superiors ? 
 
 The truth, I apprehend, is, that happiness, in so 
 far as it arises from the mind itself, will be always 
 proportioned to the degree of perfection which its 
 powers have attained ; but that, in cultivating these 
 powers, with a view to this most important of all ob- 
 jects, it is essentially necessary that such a degree 
 of attention be bestowed on all of them, as may pre- 
 serve them in that state of relative strength, which 
 appears to be agreeable to the intentions of nature. 
 In consequence of an exclusive attention to the cul- 
 ture of the imagination, the taste, the reasoning 
 faculty, or any of the active principles, it is possible 
 that the pleasures of human life may be diminished, 
 or its pains increased ; but the inconveniences 
 which are experienced in such cases, are not to be 
 ascribed to education, but to a partial and injudi- 
 cious education. In such cases, it is possible, that 
 the poet, the metaphysician, or the man of taste and 
 refinement, may appear to disadvantage, when com- 
 pared with the vulgar ; for such is the benevolent 
 appointment of Providence with respect to the lower
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 29 
 
 orders, that, although not one principle of their 
 nature be completely unfolded, the whole of these 
 principles preserve among themselves, that balance 
 which is favourable to the tranquillity of their 
 minds, and to a prudent and steady conduct in the 
 limited sphere which is assigned to them, far more 
 completely, than in those of their superiors, whose 
 education has been conducted on an erroneous or 
 imperfect system : but all this, far from weakening 
 the force of the foregoing observations, only serves 
 to demonstrate how impossible it always will be, to 
 form a rational plan for the improvement of the 
 mind, without an accurate and comprehensive 
 knowledge of the principles of the human constitu- 
 tion. 
 
 The remarks which have been already made, are 
 sufficient to illustrate the dangerous consequences 
 which are likely to result from a partial and injudi- 
 cious cultivation of the mind; and, at the same time, 
 to point out the utility of the intellectual philosophy, 
 in enabling us to preserve a proper balance among 
 all its various faculties, principles of action, and ca- 
 pacities of enjoyment. Many additional observations 
 might be offered, on the tendency which an accu- 
 rate analysis of its powers might probably have, to 
 suggest rules for their farther improvement, and for 
 a more successful application of them to their proper 
 purposes : but this subject I shall not prosecute at 
 present, as the illustration of it is one of the leading 
 objects of the following work. That the memory, 
 the imagination, or the reasoning faculty, are to be 
 instantly strengthened in consequence of our specu- 
 lations concerning their nature, it would be absurd
 
 30 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 to suppose ; but it is surely far from being unrea- 
 sonable to think, that an acquaintance with the 
 laws which regulate these powers, may suggest some 
 useful rules for their gradual cultivation ; for re- 
 medying their defects, in the case of individuals, 
 and even for extending those limits, which nature 
 seems, at first view, to have assigned them. 
 
 To how great a degree of perfection the intel- 
 lectual and moral nature of man is capable of being 
 raised by cultivation, it is difficult to conceive. 
 The effects of early, continued, and systematical, 
 education, in the case of those children who are 
 trained, for the sake of gain, to feats of strength 
 and agility, justify, perhaps, the most sanguine 
 views which it is possible for a philosopher to form, 
 with respect to the improvement of the species. 
 
 I now proceed to consider, how far the philosophy 
 of mind may be useful in accomplishing the second 
 object of education ; by assisting us in the manage- 
 ment of early impressions and associations. 
 
 By far the greater part of the opinions on which 
 we act in life, are not the result of our own inves- 
 tigations; but are adopted implicitly, in infancy 
 and youth, upon the authority of others. Even the 
 great principles of morality, although implanted in 
 every heart, are commonly aided and cherished, at 
 least to a certain degree, by the care of our instruc- 
 tors. All this is undoubtedly agreeable to the in, 
 tentions of nature ; and, indeed, were the case other- 
 wise, society could not subsist ; for nothing can be 
 more evident, than that the bulk of mankind, con- 
 demned as they are to laborious occupations, which 
 are incompatible with intellectual improvement, are 
 ii
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 31 
 
 perfectly incapable of forming their own opinions 
 on some of the most important subjects that can em- 
 ploy the human mind. It is evident, at the same 
 time, that as no system of education is perfect, a va- 
 riety of prejudices must, in this way, take an early 
 hold of our belief; so as to acquire over it an in- 
 fluence not inferior to that of the most incontro- 
 vertible truths. When a child hears, either a spe- 
 culative absurdity, or an erroneous principle of ac- 
 tion, recommended and enforced daily, by the same 
 voice which first conveyed to it those simple and 
 sublime lessons of morality and religion which are 
 congenial to its nature, is it to be wondered at, that, 
 in future life, it should find it so difficult to eradi- 
 cate prejudices which have twined their roots with 
 all the essential principles of the human frame ? 
 If such, however, be the obvious intentions of na- 
 ture, with respect to those orders of men who are 
 employed in bodily labour, it is equally clear, that 
 she meant to impose it as a double obligation on 
 those who receive the advantages of a liberal edu- 
 cation, to examine, with the most scrupulous care, 
 the foundation of all those received opinions, which 
 have any connection with morality, or with human 
 happiness. If the multitude must be led, it is of 
 consequence, surely, that it should be led by en- 
 lightened conductors ; by men who are able to dis- 
 tinguish truth from error ; and to draw the line be- 
 tween those prejudices which are innocent or salu- 
 tary, (if indeed there are any prejudices which 
 are really salutary,) and those which are hostile to 
 the interests of virtue and of mankind.
 
 32 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY IntrocL 
 
 In such a state of 'society as that in which we live, 
 the prejudices of a moral, a political, and a religious 
 nature, which we imbibe in early life, are so va- 
 rious, and at the same time so intimately blended 
 with the belief we entertain of the most sacred and 
 important truths, that a great part of the life of a 
 philosopher must necessarily be devoted, not so 
 much to the acquisition of new knowledge, as to 
 unlearn the errors to which he had been taught to 
 give an implicit assent, before the dawn of reason 
 and reflexion. And unless he submit in this man- 
 ner to bring all his opinions to the test of a severe 
 examination, his ingenuity, and his learning, instead 
 of enlightening the world, will only enable him to 
 give an additional currency, and an'additional autho- 
 rity, to establish errors. To attempt such a struggle 
 against early prejudices, is, indeed, the professed 
 aim of all philosophers ; but how few are to be found 
 who have force of mind sufficient for accomplishing 
 their object ; and who, in freeing themselves from 
 one set of errors, do not allow themselves to be car- 
 ried away with another ? To succeed in it com- 
 pletely, Lord Bacon seems to have thought, (in one 
 of the most remarkable passages of his writings,) 
 to be more than can well be expected from human 
 frailty. " Nemo adhuc tanta mentis constantia 
 " inventus est, ut decreverit, et sibi imposuerit, 
 " theorias et notiones communes penitus abolere, 
 " et intellectum abrasum et aequum ad particularia, 
 " de integro, applicare. Itaque ilia ratio humana, 
 " quam habemus, ex multa fide, et multo etiam 
 " casu, nee non ex puerilibus, quas primo hausi- 
 " mus, notionibus, farrago quaedam est, et con-
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 33 
 
 " geries. Quod siquis, aetate matura, et sensibus 
 " integris, et mente repurgata, se ad experientiam, 
 " et ad particularia de integro applicet, de eo me- 
 " lius sperandum est." 
 
 Nor is it merely in order to free the mind from the 
 influence of error, that it is useful to examine the 
 foundation of established opinions. It is such an ex- 
 amination alone, that in an inquisitive age like the 
 present, can secure a philosopher from the danger of 
 unlimited scepticism. To this extreme, indeed, the 
 complexion of the times is more likely to give him a 
 tendency, than to implicit credulity. In the former 
 ages of ignorance and superstition, the intimate asso- 
 ciation which had been formed in the prevailing sys- 
 tems of education, between truth and error, had 
 given to the latter, an ascendant over the minds of 
 men, which it could never have acquired, if divested 
 of such an alliance. The case has, of late years, been 
 most remarkably reversed : the common sense of 
 mankind, in consequence of the growth of a more 
 liberal spirit of inquiry, has revolted against many 
 of those absurdities, which had so long held human 
 reason in captivity j and it was, perhaps, more than 
 could reasonably have been expected, that, in the 
 first moments of their emancipation, philosophers 
 should have stopped short, at the precise boundary, 
 which cooler reflection, and more moderate views, 
 would have prescribed. The fact is, that they have 
 passed far beyond it ; and that, in their zeal to de- 
 stroy prejudices, they have attempted to tear up by 
 the roots, many of the best and happiest and most 
 essential principles of our nature. Having remarked 
 the powerful influence of education over the mindi 
 
 D
 
 34 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 they have concluded, that man is wholly a factitious 
 being : not recollecting, that this very susceptibility 
 of education presupposes certain original princi- 
 ples, which are common to the whole species ; and 
 that, as error can only take a permanent hold of a 
 candid mind by being grafted on truths, which it is 
 unwilling or unable to eradicate; even the influence, 
 which false and absurd opinions occasionallyacquire 
 over the belief, instead of being an argument for 
 universal scepticism, is the most decisive argument 
 against it; inasmuch as it shews, that there are some 
 truths so incorporated and identified with our na- 
 ture, that they can reconcile us even to the absur- 
 dities and contradictions with which we suppose 
 them to be inseparably connected. The sceptical 
 philosophers, for example, of the present age, have 
 frequently attempted to hold up to ridicule, those 
 contemptible and puerile superstitions, which have 
 disgraced the creeds of some "of the most enlight- 
 ened nations ; and which have not only commanded 
 the assent, but the reverence, of men of the most 
 accomplished understandings. But these histories 
 of human imbecility are, in truth, the strongest tes- 
 timonies which can be produced, to prove, how 
 wonderful is the influence of the fundamental prin- 
 ciples of morality over the belief; when they are 
 able to sanctify, in the apprehensions of mankind, 
 every extravagant opinion, and every unmeaning 
 ceremony, which early education has taught us to 
 associate with them. 
 
 That implicit credulity is a mark of a feeble mind, 
 will not be disputed ; but it may not perhaps be as 
 ^generally acknowledged, that the case is the same
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 35 
 
 with unlimited scepticism : on the contrary, we 
 are sometimes apt to ascribe this disposition to a 
 more than ordinary vigour of intellect. Such a 
 prejudice was by no means unnatural at that pe- 
 riod in the history of modern Europe, when reason 
 first began to throw off the yoke of authority ; and 
 when it unquestionably required a superiority of un- 
 derstanding, as well as of intrepidity, for an indivi- 
 dual to resist the contagion of prevailing superstition. 
 But in the present age, in which the tendency of 
 fashionable opinions is directly opposite to those of 
 the vulgar ; the philosophical creed, or the philoso- 
 phical scepticism of by far the greater number of 
 those who value themselves on an emancipation from 
 popular errors, arises from the very same weakness 
 with the credulity of the multitude : nor is it going 
 too far to say, with Rousseau, that " He, who, in the 
 " end of the eighteenth century, has brought him- 
 " self to abandon all his early principles withoutdis- 
 " crimination, would probably have been a bigot in 
 * the days of the League." In the midst of these 
 contrary impulses, of fashionable and of vulgar pre- 
 judices, he alone evinces the superiority- and the 
 strength of his mind, who is able to disentangle truth 
 from error ; and to oppose the clear conclusions of 
 his own unbiassed faculties, to the united clamours of 
 superstition, and of false philosophy. Such are the 
 men, whom nature marks out to be the lights of the 
 world; to fix the wavering opinions of the multi- 
 tude, and to impress their own characters on that of 
 their age. v 
 
 For securing the mind completely from the weak- 
 nesses I have now been describing, and enabling it to 
 
 D 2
 
 36 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd, 
 
 maintain a steady course of inquiry, between implicit 
 credulity, and unlimited scepticism, the most impor- 
 tant of all qualities is a sincere and devoted attach- 
 ment to truth ; which seldom fails to be accompanied 
 with a manly confidence in the clear conclusions of 
 human reason. It is such a confidence, united (as it 
 generally is) with personal intrepidity, which forms 
 what the French writers call force of character ; one 
 of the rarest endowments, it must be confessed, of 
 our species ; but which, of all endowments, is the 
 most essential for rendering a philosopher happy in 
 himself, and a blessing to mankind. 
 
 There is, I think, good reason for hoping, that the 
 sceptical tendency of the present age, will be only a 
 temporary evil. While it continues, however, it is 
 an evil of the most alarming nature ; and, as it ex- 
 tends, in general, not only to religion and morality, 
 but, in some measure, also to politics, and the con- 
 duct of life, it is equally fatal to the comfort of the 
 individual, and to the improvement of society. Even 
 in its most inoffensive form, when it happens to be 
 united with a peaceable disposition and a benevolent 
 heart, it cannot fail to have the effect of damping 
 every active and patriotic exertion. Convinced that 
 truth is placed beyond the reach of the human fa- 
 culties ; and doubtful how far the prejudices we 
 despise may not be essential to the well-being of 
 society, we resolve to abandon completely all spe- 
 culative inquiries ; and suffering ourselves to be 
 carried quietly along with the stream of popular 
 opinions, and of fashionable manners, determine 
 to amuse ourselves, the best way we can, with bu- 
 siness or pleasure, during our short passage through
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 37 
 
 this scene of illusions. But he who thinks more 
 favourably of the human powers, and who believes 
 that reason was given to man to direct him to his 
 duty and his happiness, will despise the suggestions 
 of this timid philosophy ; and while he is conscious 
 that he is guided in his inquiries only by the love of 
 truth, will rest assured that their result will be 
 equally favourable to his own comfort, and to the 
 best interests of mankind. What, indeed, will be 
 the particular effects in the first instance, of that 
 general diffusion of knowledge, which the art of print- 
 ing must sooner or later produce, and of that spirit of 
 reformation with which it cannot fail to be accom- 
 panied, it is beyond the reach of human sagacity to 
 conjecture ; but unless we chuse to abandon our- 
 selves entirely to a desponding scepticism, we must 
 hope and believe, that the progress of human reason 
 can never be a source of permanent disorder to the 
 world ; and that they alone have cause to apprehend 
 the consequences, who are led, by the imperfection 
 of our present institutions, to feel themselves in- 
 terested in perpetuating the prejudices, and follies, 
 of their species. 
 
 From the observations which have been made, it 
 sufficiently appears, that in order to secure the mind, 
 on the one hand, from the influence of prejudice ; 
 and on the other, from a tendency to unlimited scep- 
 ticism ; it is necessary that it should be able to distin- 
 guish the original and universal principles and laws 
 of human nature, from the adventitious effects of 
 local situation. But if, in the case of an individual, 
 who has received an imperfect or erroneous educa- 
 tion, such a knowledge puts it in his power to cor- 
 
 D 3
 
 38 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 rect, to a certain degree, his own bad habits, and to 
 surmount his own speculative errors ; it enables him 
 to be useful, in a much higher degree, to those whose 
 education he has an opportunity of superintending 
 from early infancy. Such, and so permanent is the 
 effect of first impressions, on the character, that al- 
 though a philosopher may succeed, by perseverance, 
 in freeing his reason from the prejudices with which 
 it was entangled, they will still retain some hold of 
 his imagination, and his affections : and, therefore, 
 however enlightened his understanding may be in 
 his hours of speculation, his philosophical opinions 
 will frequently lose their influence over his mind, in 
 those very situations in which their practical assist- 
 ance is most required : when his temper is soured 
 by misfortune ; or when he engages in the pursuits 
 of life, and exposes himself to the contagion of popu- 
 lar errors. His opinions are supported merely by 
 speculative arguments ; and instead of being con- 
 nected with any of the active principles of his nature, 
 are counteracted and thwarted by some of the most 
 powerful of them. How different would the case 
 be, if education \vere conducted from the beginning 
 with attention and judgment? Were the same pains 
 taken, to impress truth on the mind in early infancy, 
 that is often taken to inculcate error, the great prin- 
 ciples of our conduct would not only be juster than 
 they are j but, in consequence of the aid which they 
 would receive from the imagination and the heart, 
 trained to conspire with them in the same direction, 
 they would render us happier in ourselves, and 
 would influence our practice more powerfully and 
 more habitually. There is surely nothing in error,
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 39 
 
 which is more congenial to the mind than truth. 
 On the contrary, when exhibited separately, and 
 alone to the understanding, it shocks our reason, and 
 provokes our ridicule ; and it is only, (as I had oc- 
 casion already to remark,) by an alliance with truths, 
 which we find it difficult to renounce, that it can 
 obtain our assent, or command our reverence. 
 "What advantages, then, might be derived from a 
 proper attention to early impressions and associ- 
 ations, in giving support to those principles which 
 are connected with human happiness? The long 
 reign of error in the world, and the influence it 
 maintains, even in an age of liberal inquiry j fai 
 from being favourable to the supposition, that 
 human reason is destined to be for ever the sport of 
 prejudice and absurdity, demonstrates the ten- 
 dency which there is to permanence in established 
 opinions, and in established institutions ; and pro- 
 mises an eternal stability to true philosophy, when it 
 shall once have acquired the ascendant ; and when 
 proper means shall be employed to support it, by 
 a more perfect system of education. 
 
 Let us suppose, for a moment, that this happy aera 
 were arrived, and that all the prepossessions of child- 
 hood and youth were directed to support the pure 
 and sublime truths of an enlightened morality. 
 With what ardour, and with what transport, would 
 the understanding, when arrived at maturity, pro- 
 ceed in the search of truth ; when, instead of being 
 obliged to struggle, at every step, with early pre- 
 judices, its office was merely to add the force of 
 philosophical conviction, to impressions, which are 
 equally delightful to the imagination, and dear to 
 
 D 4
 
 40 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 the heart I The prepossessions of childhood would, 
 through the whole of life, be gradually acquiring 
 strength from the enlargement of our knowledge j 
 and, in their turn, would fortify the conclusions of 
 our reason, against the sceptical suggestions of dis- 
 appointment or melancholy. 
 
 Our daily experience may convince us, how sus- 
 ceptible the tender mind is of deep impressions ; and 
 what important and permanent effects are produced 
 on the characters, and the happiness of individuals, 
 by the casual associations formed in childhood 
 among the various ideas, feelings, and affections, 
 with which they were habitually occupied. It is the 
 business of education not to counteract this consti- 
 tution of nature, but to give it a proper direction : 
 and the miserable consequences to which it leads, 
 when under an improper regulation, only shew, 
 what an important instrument of human improve- 
 ment it might be rendered, in more skilful hands. 
 If it be possible to interest the imagination and the 
 heart in favour of error, it is, at least, no less pos- 
 sible to interest them in favour of truth. If it be 
 possible to extinguish all the most generous and 
 heroic feelings of our nature, by teaching us to con- 
 nect the idea of them with those of guilt and im- 
 piety j it is surely equally possible to cherish and 
 strengthen them, by establishing the natural alliance 
 between our duty and our happiness. If it be pos- 
 sible for the influence of fashion to veil the native 
 deformity of vice, and to give to low and criminal 
 indulgences the appearance of spirit, of elegance, 
 and of gaiety ; can we doubt of the possibility of 
 connecting, in the tender mind, these pleasing associ-
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 41 
 
 ations, with pursuits that are truly worthy and honour- 
 able ? There are few men to be found, among 
 
 those who have received the advantages of a libe- 
 ral education, who do not retain, through life, that 
 admiration of the heroic ages of Greece and Rome, 
 with which the classical authors once inspired them. 
 It is, in truth, a fortunate prepossession, on the 
 whole, and one, of which I should be sorry to coun- 
 teract the influence. But are there not others of 
 equal importance to morality and to happiness, with 
 which the mind might, at the same period of life, be 
 inspired? If the first conceptions, for example, which 
 an infant formed of the Deity, and its first moral 
 perceptions, were associated with the early impres- 
 sions produced on the heart by the beauties of na- 
 ture, or the charms of poetical description, those 
 serious thoughts which are resorted to, by most men, 
 merely as a source of consolation in adversity, and 
 which, on that very account, are frequently tinc- 
 tured with some degree of gloom, would recur spon- 
 taneously to the mind, in its best and happiest 
 hours ; and would insensibly blend themselves with 
 all its purest and most refined enjoyments. 
 
 In those parts of Europe, where the prevailing 
 opinions involve the greatest variety of errors and 
 corruptions, it is, I believe, a common idea with many 
 respectable and enlightened men, that, in every 
 country, it is most prudent to conduct the religious 
 instruction of youth upon the plan which is pre- 
 scribed by the national establishment ; in order that 
 the pupil, according to the vigour or feebleness of 
 his mind, may either shake off, in future life, the 
 prejudices of the nursery, or die in the popular per-
 
 4'2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 suasion. This idea, I own, appears to me to be 
 equally ill founded and dangerous. If religious opi- 
 nions have, as will not be disputed, a powerful in- 
 fluence on the happiness, and on the conduct of 
 mankind, does not humanity require of us, to rescue 
 as many victims as possible from the hands of bigotry; 
 and to save them from the cruel alternative, of re- 
 mainingunder the gloom of a depressing superstition, 
 or of being distracted by a perpetual conflict between 
 the heart and the understanding? It is an en- 
 lightened education alone, that, in most countries of 
 Europe, can save the young philosopher from that 
 anxiety and despondence, which every man of sensi- 
 bility, who, in his childhood, has imbibed the popular 
 opinions, must necessarily experience, when he first 
 begins to examine their foundation ; and, what is of 
 still greater importance, which can save him, during 
 life, from that occasional scepticism, to which all men 
 are liable, whose systems fluctuate with the inequa- 
 lities of their spirits, and the variations of the 
 atmosphere. 
 
 I shall conclude this subject with remarking, that, 
 although in all moral and religious systems, there is 
 a great mixture of important truth ; and although 
 it is, in consequence of this alliance, that errors and 
 absurdities are enabled to preserve their hold of the 
 belief, yet it is commonly found, that, in proportion 
 as an established creed is complicated in its dogmas 
 and in its ceremonies, and in proportion to the num- 
 ber of accessory ideas which it has grafted upon the 
 truth, the more difficult is it, for those who have 
 adopted it in childhood, to emancipate themselves 
 completely from its influence j and, in those cases in
 
 Part II. $ 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 43 
 
 which they at last succeed, the greater is their dan- 
 ger of abandoning, along with their errors, all the 
 truths which they had been taught to connect with 
 them. The Roman Catholic system is shaken off 
 with much greater difficulty, than those which are 
 taught in the reformed churches ; but when it loses 
 its hold of the mind, it much more frequently pre- 
 pares the way for unlimited scepticism. The causes 
 of this I may perhaps have an opportunity of point- 
 ing out, in treating of the association of ideas. 
 
 I have now finished all that I think necessary to 
 offer at present, on the application of the philosophy 
 of mind to the subject of education. To some 
 readers, I am afraid, that what I have advanced on 
 the subject, will appear to border upon enthusiasm ; 
 and I will not attempt to justify myself against the 
 charge. I am well aware of the tendency, which 
 speculative men sometimes have, to magnify the 
 effects of education, as well as to entertain too san- 
 guine views of the improvement of the world ; and 
 I am ready to acknowledge, that there are instances 
 of individuals, whose vigour of mind is sufficient to 
 overcome every thing that is pernicious in their 
 early habits : but I am fully, pursuaded, that these 
 instances are rare ; and that, by far the greater part 
 of mankind continue, through life, to pursue the 
 same tract into which they have been thrown, by 
 the aocidental circumstances of situation, instruc- 
 tion, and example.
 
 44 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. 
 
 THE remarks which have been hitherto made, on 
 the utility of the philosophy of the human mind, are 
 of a very general nature, and apply equally to all 
 descriptions of men. Besides, however, these more 
 obvious advantages of the study, there are others, 
 which, thoughless striking, and less extensive in their 
 application, are nevertheless, to some particular 
 classes of individuals, of the highest importance. 
 Without pretending to exhaust the subject, I shall 
 offer a few detached observations upon it, in this 
 section. 
 
 I already took notice, in general terms, of the com- 
 mon relation which all the different branches of our 
 knowledge bear, to the philosophy of the humanmind. 
 In consequence of this relation, it not only forms an 
 interesting objectof curiosity to literary men of every 
 denomination ; but, if successfully prosecuted, it 
 cannot fail to furnish useful lights for directing 
 their inquiries; whatever the nature of the subjects 
 may be, which happen to engage their attention. 
 
 In order to be satisfied of the justness of this ob- 
 servation, it is sufficient to recollect, that to the phi- 
 losophy of the mind are to be referred, all our 
 inquiries concerning the divisions and the classifica- 
 tions of the objects of human knowledge j and also, 
 all the various rules, both for the investigation, and 
 
 3
 
 Part. II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 45 
 
 the communication, of truth. These general views 
 of science, and these general rules of method, ought 
 to form the subjects of a rational and useful logic ; 
 a study, undoubtedly, in itself of the greatest im- 
 portance and dignity, but in which less progress has 
 hitherto been made than is commonly imagined. 
 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate, very briefly, a few 
 of the advantages which might be expected to re- 
 sult from such a system of logic, if properly exe- 
 cuted. 
 
 I. And, in the first place, it is evident that it 
 would be of the highest importance in all the 
 .sciences, (in some of them, indeed, much more 
 than in others,) to exhibit a precise and steady 
 idea of the objects which they present to our in- 
 quiry. What was the principal circumstance 
 
 which contributed to mislead the ancients, in their 
 physical researches? Was it not their confused 
 and wavering notions about the particular class of 
 truths, which it was their business to investigate ? 
 It was owing to this that they were led to neglect 
 the obvious phenomena and laws of moving bodies ; 
 and to indulge themselves in conjectures about the 
 efficient causes of motion, and the nature of those 
 minds, by which they conceived the particles of 
 matter to be animated ; and that they so often 
 blended the history of facts, with their metaphy- 
 sical speculations. In the present state of science, 
 indeed, we are not liable to such mistakes in na- 
 tural philosophy ; but it would be difficult to men- 
 tion any other branch of knowledge, which is 
 entirely exempted from them. In metaphysics, 
 I might almost say, they are at the bottom of all our
 
 46 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 controversies. In the celebrated dispute, for ex- 
 ample, which has been so long carried on, about 
 the explanation given by the ideal theory of the 
 phenomena of perception, the whole difficulty arose 
 from this, that philosophers had no precise notion 
 of the point they wished to ascertain ; and now, that 
 the controversy has been brought to a conclusion, 
 (as I think all men of candour must confess it to 
 have been by Dr. Reid,) it will be found, that his 
 doctrine on the subject throws no light whatever, 
 on what was generally understood to be the great 
 object of inquiry ; I mean, on the mode of com- 
 munication between the mind and the material 
 world : and, in truth, amounts only to a precise 
 description of the fact, stripped of all hypothesis, 
 and stated in such a manner as to give us a distinct 
 view of the insurmountable limits which nature 
 has in this instance prescribed to our curiosity. 
 The same observation may be made, on the reason- 
 ings of this profound and original author, with 
 respect to some metaphysical questions that had 
 been started on the subject of vision ; in particular, 
 concerning the cause of our seeing objects single 
 with two eyes, and our seeing objects erect, by 
 means of inverted images on the retina. 
 
 If we were to examine, in like manner, the 
 present state of morals, of jurisprudence, of po- 
 litics, and of philosophical criticism ; I believe, we 
 should find, that the principal circumstance which 
 retards their progress, is the vague and indistinct 
 idea, which those who apply to the study of them 
 have formed to themselves of the objects of their 
 researches. Were these objects once clearly de- 
 
 ii
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 47 
 
 lined, and the proper plan of inquiry for attaining 
 them illustrated by a few unexceptionable models, 
 writers of inferior genius would be enabled to 
 employ their industry to much more advantage; 
 and would be prevented from adding to that rub- 
 bish, which, in consequence of the ill-directed 
 ingenuity of our predecessors, obstructs our pro- 
 gress in the pursuit of truth. 
 
 As a philosophical system of logic would assist 
 us in our particular scientific investigations, by 
 keeping steadily in our view the attainable objects 
 of human curiosity ; so, by exhibiting to us the 
 relation in which they all stand to each other, and 
 the relation which they all bear to what ought to 
 be their common aim, the advancement of human 
 happiness, it would have a tendency to confine 
 industry and genius to inquiries which are of real 
 practical utility ; and would communicate a dignity 
 to the most subordinate pursuits, which are in any 
 respect subservient to so important a purpose. 
 When our views are limited to one particular 
 science, to which we have been led to devote our- 
 selves by taste or by accident, the course of our 
 studies resembles the progress of a traveller 
 through an unexplored country ; whose wander- 
 ings, from place to place, are determined merely 
 by the impulse of occasional curiosity j and whose 
 opportunities of information must necessarily be 
 limited to the objects which accidentally present 
 themselves to his notice. It is the philosophy of 
 the mind alone, which, by furnishing us with a 
 general map of the field of human knowledge, can 
 enable us to proceed with steadiness, and in an
 
 48 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 useful direction ; and while it gratifies our cu- 
 riosity, and animates our exertions, by exhibiting 
 to us all the various bearings of our journey, can 
 conduct us to those eminences from whence the 
 eye may wander over the vast and unexplored 
 regions of science. Lord Bacon was the first 
 person who took this comprehensive view of the 
 different departments of study ; and who pointed 
 out, to all the classes of literary men, the great 
 end to which their labours should conspire ; the 
 multiplication of the sources of human enjoyment, 
 and the extension of man's dominion over nature. 
 Had this object been kept steadily in view by his 
 followers, their discoveries, numerous and important 
 as they have been, would have advanced with still 
 greater rapidity, and would have had a much more 
 extensive influence on the practical arts of life. * 
 
 From such a system of logic, too, important as- 
 sistance might be expected, for reforming the es- 
 tablished plan of public or academical education. 
 It is melancholy to reflect on the manner in which 
 this is carried on, in most, perhaps, I might say, in 
 all the countries of Europe ; and that in an age of 
 comparative light and liberality, the intellectual 
 
 * Omnium autem gravissimus error in deviatione ab ultimo 
 doctrinarum fine consistit. Appetunt enim homines scientiam. 
 alii ex insita curiositate et irrequieta ; alii animi causa et delec- 
 tationis, alii existimationis gratia; alii contentionis ergo, atquo 
 ut in disserendo superiores sint: plerique propter lucrum et 
 victum : paucissimi, ut donum rationis, divinitus datum, in usus 
 
 huinani generis impendant. Hoc enim illud est, quod revesa 
 
 doctrinam atque artes condecoraret, et attolleret, si contcm- 
 platio, et actio, arctiore quam adlmc vinculo copularentur. De 
 Aug. Scicnt. lib. i.
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 49 
 
 and moral characters of youth should continue to 
 be formed on a plan devised by men who were not 
 only strangers to the business of the world, but 
 who felt themselves interested in opposing the pro- 
 gress of useful knowledge. 
 
 For accomplishing a reformation in the plan of 
 academical study, on rational and systematical prin- 
 ciples, it is necessary, in the first place, to consider 
 the relation in which the different branches of litera- 
 ture, and the different arts and sciences, stand to 
 each other, and to the practical purposes of life: and 
 secondly, to consider them in relation to the human 
 mind, in order to determine the arrangement, best 
 fitted for unfolding and maturing its faculties. 
 Many valuable hints towards such a work may be 
 collected from Lord Bacon's writings. 
 
 II. Another very important branch of a rational 
 system of logic (as I had occasion already to observe) 
 ought to be ; to lay down the rules of investigation 
 which it is proper to follow in the different sciences. 
 In all of these, the faculties of the understanding are 
 the instruments with which we operate ; and with- 
 out a previous knowledge of their nature, it is im- 
 possible to employ them to the best advantage. In 
 every exercise of our reasoning and of our inventive 
 powers, there are general laws which regulate the 
 progress of the mind ; and when once these laws 
 are ascertained, they enable us to speculate and to 
 invent, for the future, with more system, and with 
 a greater certainty of success. In the mechanical 
 arts, it is well known, how much time and ingenuity 
 are misapplied, by those who acquire their practical 
 skill, by their own trials, undirected by the pre- 
 
 E
 
 50 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 cepts or example of others. What we call the rules 
 of an art, are merely a collection of general observ- 
 ations, suggested by long experience, with respect 
 to the most compendious and effectual means of 
 performing every different step of the processes 
 which the art involves. In consequence of such 
 rules, the artist is enabled to command the same 
 success in all his operations, for which the unskilled 
 workman must trust to a happy combination of acci- 
 dental circumstances ; the misapplications, too, of 
 the labour of one race are saved to the next ; and 
 the acquisition of practical address is facilitated, by 
 
 confining its exertions to one direction. The 
 
 analogy is perfect, in those processes which are 
 purely intellectual ; and to regulate which, is the 
 great object of logic. In the case of individuals, 
 who have no other guide to direct them in their 
 inquiries than their own natural sagacity, much time 
 and ingenuity must inevitably be thrown away, in 
 every exertion of the inventive powers. In propor- 
 tion, however, to the degree of their experience and 
 observation, the number of these misapplications will 
 diminish ; and the power of invention will be en- 
 abled to proceed with more certainty and steadiness 
 to its object. The misfortune is, that as the aids, 
 which the understanding derives from experience, 
 are seldom recorded in writing, or even described in 
 words, every succeeding inquirer finds himself, at 
 the commencement of his philosophical pursuits, 
 obliged to struggle with the same disadvantages 
 which had retarded the progress of his predecessors. 
 If the more important practical rules, which habits of 
 investigation suggest to individuals, were diligently 
 
 9
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 51 
 
 preserved, each generation would be placed in cir- 
 cumstances more favourable to invention than the 
 preceding ; and the progress of knowledge, instead 
 of cramping original genius, would assist and direct 
 its exertions. In the infancy of literature, indeed, 
 its range may be more unbounded, and its acci- 
 dental excursions may excite more astonishment, 
 than in a cultivated and enlightened age ; but it is 
 only in such an age, that inventive genius can be 
 trained by rules founded on the experience of our 
 predecessors, in such a manner as to insure the 
 gradual and regular improvement of science. So 
 just is the remark of Lord Bacon : " Certo sciant 
 " homines, artes inveniendi solidas et veras adoles- 
 *' cere et incrementa sumere cum ipsis inventis." 
 
 The analogy between the mechanical arts, and 
 the operations of scientific invention, might perhaps 
 be carried further. In the former, we know how 
 much the natural powers of man have been assisted, 
 by the use of tools and instruments. Is it not pos- 
 sible to devise, in like manner, certain aids to our 
 intellectual faculties ? 
 
 That such a query is not altogether chimerical, 
 appears from the wonderful effects of algebra (which 
 is precisely such an instrument of thought, as I have 
 been now alluding to) in facilitating the inquiries of 
 modern mathematicians. Whether it might not be 
 possible to realise a project which Leibnitz has some- 
 where mentioned, of introducing a similar contriv- 
 ance into other branches of knowledge, I shall not 
 take upon me to determine ; but that this idea has 
 at least some plausibility, must, I think, be evident 
 to those who have reflected on the nature of the 
 
 E 2
 
 52 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 general terms which abound more or less in every 
 cultivated language ; and which may be considered 
 as one species of instrumental aid, which art has 
 discovered to our intellectual powers. From the 
 observations which I am afterwards to make, it will 
 appear, that, without general terms, all our reason- 
 ings must necessarily have been limited to particu- 
 lars ; and, consequently, it is owing to the use of 
 these, that the philosopher is enabled to speculate 
 concerning classes of objects, with the same faci- 
 lity with which the savage or the peasant speculates 
 concerning the individuals of which they are com- 
 posed. The technical terms, in the different sciences, 
 render the appropriate language of philosophy a 
 still more convenient instrument of thought, than 
 those languages which have originated from popular 
 use ; and in proportion as these technical terms 
 improve in point of precision and comprehensive- 
 ness, they will contribute to render our intellectual 
 progress more certain and more rapid. " While 
 " engaged " (says Mr. Lavoisier) " in the compo- 
 " sition of my Elements of Chemistry, I perceived, 
 " better than I had ever done before, the truth of 
 " an observation of Condillac, that we think only 
 " through the medium of words ; and that lan- 
 " guages are true analytical methods. Algebra, 
 " which, of all our modes of expression, is the most 
 " simple, the most exact, and the best adapted to 
 " its purpose, is, at the same time, a language and 
 ** an analytical method. The art of reasoning is 
 " nothing more than a language well arranged." 
 The influence which these very enlightened and 
 philosophical views have already had on the doc-
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 55 
 
 trines of chemistry, cannot fail to be known to most 
 of my readers. 
 
 The foregoing remarks, in so far as they relate to 
 the possibility of assisting our reasoning and inventive 
 powers, by new instrumental aids, may perhaps ap- 
 pear to be founded too much upon theory ; but this 
 /Abjection cannot be made to the reasonings I have 
 offered on the importance of the study of method. 
 To the justness of these, the whole history of 
 science bears testimony ; but more especially, the 
 histories of Physics and of pure Geometry ; which 
 afford so remarkable an illustration of the general 
 doctrine, as can scarcely fail to be satisfactory, even 
 to those who are the most disposed to doubt the 
 efficacy of art in directing the exertions of genius. 
 
 With respect to the former, it is sufficient to 
 mention the wonderful effects which the writings of 
 Lord Bacon have produced, in accelerating its pro- 
 gress. The philosophers, who flourished before his 
 time, were, undoubtedly, not inferior to their suc- 
 cessors, either in genius or industry : but their plan 
 of investigation was erroneous ; and their labours 
 have produced only a chaos of fictions and absurd- 
 ities. The illustrations which his works contain, 
 of the method of induction, general as the terms 
 are, in which they are expressed, have gradually 
 turned the attention of the moderns to the rules of 
 philosophising ; and have led the way to those im- 
 portant and sublime discoveries in physics, which 
 reflect so much honour on the present age. 
 
 The rules of philosophising, however, even in 
 physics, have never yet been laid down with a suffi- 
 cient degree of precision, minuteness, or method j 
 
 E 3
 
 54 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY IntroeL 
 
 nor have they ever been stated and illustrated in so 
 clear and popular a manner, as to render them intel- 
 ligible to the generality of readers. The truth, per- 
 haps, is ; that the greater part of physical inquirers 
 have derived what knowledge of them they possess, 
 rather from an attention to the excellent models of 
 investigation, which the writings of Newton exhibit^ 
 than from any of the speculations of Lord Bacon, or 
 his commentators : and, indeed, such is the inca- 
 pacity of most people for abstract reasoning, that I 
 am inclined to think, even if the rules of inquiry 
 were delivered in a perfectly complete and unex- 
 ceptionable form, it might still be expedient to teach 
 them to the majority of students, rather by ex- 
 amples, than in the form of general principles. But 
 it does not therefore follow, that an attempt to 
 illustrate and to methodize these rules, would be 
 useless ; for ifr must be remembered, that, although 
 an original and inventive genius, like that of New- 
 ton, be sufficient to establish a standard for the imi- 
 tation of his age, yet, that the genius of Newton 
 himself was encouraged and led by the light of 
 Bacon's philosophy. 
 
 The use which the ancient Greek geometers made 
 of their analysis, affords an additional illustration of 
 the utility of method in guiding scientific invention. 
 To facilitate the study of this species of investiga- 
 tion, they wrote no less than thirty-three prepara- 
 tory books ; and they considered an address, in the 
 practice of it, (or, as MARINUS calls it, a fuv^? 
 aWxuTixi)) as of much more value, than an extensive 
 acquaintance with the principles of the science. * 
 
 * M? 
 
 E7T* JUEfOU,- t
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 55 
 
 Indeed, it is well known, to every one who is at all 
 conversant with geometrical investigations, that 
 although it may be possible for a person, without 
 the assistance of the method of analysis, to stumble 
 accidentally on a solution, or on a demonstration ; 
 yet it is impossible for him to possess a just con- 
 fidence in his own powers, or to carry on a regular 
 plan of invention and discovery. It is well known, 
 too, that an acquaintance with this method brings 
 geometers much more nearly upon a level with 
 each other, than they would be otherwise : not that 
 it is possible, by any rules, to supersede, entirely, 
 ingenuity and address ; but, because, in conse- 
 quence of the uniformity of the plan on which the 
 method proceeds, experience communicates a cer- 
 tain dexterity in the use of it ; which must in time 
 give to a very ordinary degree of sagacity, a supe- 
 riority, on the whole, to the greatest natural inge- 
 nuity, unassisted by rule. * 
 
 * " Mathematica multi sciunt, mathesin pauci. Aliud est 
 enim nosse propositiones aliquot, et nonnullas ex iis obvias 
 elicere, casu potius quam certa aliqua discurrendi norma, 
 aliud scientiae ipsius naturatn ac indolem perspectam habere, 
 in ejus se adyta penetrate, et ab universalibus instructum esse 
 praeceptis, quibus theoremata ac problemata innumera excogi- 
 taudi, eademque demonstrandi facilitas comparetur. Ut enim 
 pictorum vulgus prototypon sa^pe saepius exprimendo, quendam 
 pingendi usum, nullam vero pictoriae artis quam optica suggerit 
 scientiam adquirit, ita multi, lectis Euclidis et aliorum geome- 
 trarum libris, eorum imitatione fingere propositiones aliquas ac 
 demonstrate solent, ipsam tamen secrelissimam difficiliorum 
 theorematum ac problematum solvendi m,ethodum prorsus ig- 
 uerant." Joannis de la Faille Theoremata de Centro Gravi- 
 tatis, in praefat. Antwerpiae, 1632. 
 
 E 4,
 
 56 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 To these observations, I believe, I may add, that 
 after all that, was done by the Greek philosophers 
 to facilitate mathematical invention, many rules still 
 remain to be suggested, which might be of im- 
 portant use, even in pure geometry. A variety of 
 such occur to every experienced mathematician, in 
 the course of his inquiries, although, perhaps, he 
 may not be at the trouble to state them to himself 
 in words \ and it would plainly have saved him 
 much expence of time and thought, beside en- 
 abling him to conduct his researches on a more 
 regular plan, if he had been taught them syste- 
 matically at the commencement of his studies. 
 The more varied, abstruse, and general investiga- 
 tions of the moderns, stand in need, in a much 
 greater degree, of the guidance of philosophical 
 principles ; not only for enabling us to conduct, with 
 skill, our particular researches, but for directing 
 us to the different methods of reasoning, to which 
 we ought to have recourse on different occasions. 
 A collection of such rules would form, what might 
 be called with propriety, the logic of mathematics ; 
 and would probably contribute greatly to the ad- 
 vancement of all those branches of knowledge, to 
 which mathematical learning is subservient. 
 
 The observations which have been now made, on 
 the importance of method in conducting physical 
 and mathematical researches, particularly those 
 which relate to the last of these subjects, will not 
 apply literally to our inquiries in metaphysics, 
 morals, or^politics ; because, in these sciences, our 
 reasonings always consist of a comparatively smalt 
 number of intermediate steps ; and the obstacles
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 57 
 
 which retard our progress, do not, as in mathe- 
 matics, arise from the difficulty of finding media of 
 comparison among our ideas. Not, that these ob- 
 stacles are less real, or more easily surmounted : on 
 the contrary, it seems to require a still rarer com- 
 bination of talents to surmount them ; for how small 
 is the number of individuals, who are qualified to 
 think justly on metaphysical, moral, or political 
 subjects j in comparison of those, who maybe trained 
 by practice to follow the longest processes of ma- 
 thematical reasoning. From what these obstacles 
 arise, I shall not inquire particularly at present. 
 Some of the more important of them may be re- 
 ferred to the imperfections of language ; to the dif- 
 ficulty of annexing precise and steady ideas to our 
 words ; to the difficulty, in some cases, of conceiv- 
 ing the subjects of our reasoning ; and, in others, of 
 discovering, and keeping in view, all the various cir- 
 cumstances upon which our judgment ought to pro- 
 ceed j and above all, to the prejudices which early 
 impressions and associations create, to warp our opi- 
 nions. To illustrate these sources of error, in the 
 different sciences Vhich are liable to be affected by 
 them, and to point out the most effectual means for 
 guarding against them, would form another very in- 
 teresting article, in a philosophical system of logic. 
 
 The method of communicating to others, the prin- 
 ciples of the different sciences, has been as much ne- 
 glected by the writers on logic, as the rules of inves- 
 tigation and discovery; and yet, there is certainly no 
 undertaking whatever, in which their assistance is 
 more indispensably requisite. The first principles of 
 all the sciences are intimately connected with the
 
 ,58 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 philosophy of the human mind ; and it is the pro- 
 vince of the logician, to state these in such a man- 
 ner, as to lay a solid foundation for the superstruc- 
 tures which others are to rear. It is in stating such 
 principles, accordingly, that elementary writers are 
 chiefly apt to fail. How unsatisfactory, for ex- 
 ample, are the introductory chapters in most sys- 
 tems of natural philosophy ; not in consequence of 
 any defect of physical or of mathematical knowledge 
 in their authors, but in consequence of a want of at- 
 tention to the laws of human thought, and to the 
 general rules of just reasoning ! The same remark 
 may be extended to the form, in which the elemen- 
 tary principles of many of the other sciences are 
 commonly exhibited ; and, if I am not mistaken, this 
 want of order, among the first ideas which they pre- 
 sent to the mind, is a more powerful obstacle to the 
 progress of knowledge, than is generally imagined. 
 I shall only observe farther, with respect to the uti- 
 lity of the philosophy of mind, that as there are some 
 arts, in which we not only employ the intellectual 
 faculties as instruments, but operate on the mind as 
 a subject ; so, to those individuals who aim at excel- 
 lence in such pursuits, the studies I have now been 
 recommending are, in a more peculiar manner, in- 
 teresting and important. In poetry, in painting, in 
 eloquence, and in all the other fine arts, our success 
 depends on the skill with which we are able to adapt 
 the efforts of our genius to the human frame ; and 
 it is only on a philosophical analysis of the mind, 
 that a solid foundation can be laid for their farther 
 improvement. Man, too, is the subject on which 
 the practical moralist and the enlightened statesman
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MlKD. 59 
 
 have to operate. Of the former, it is the professed 
 object to engage the attention of individuals to their 
 own best interest : and to allure them to virtue and 
 happiness, by every consideration that can influence 
 the understanding, the imagination, or the heart. 
 To the latter is assigned the sublimer office of se- 
 conding the benevolent intentions of Providence in 
 the administration of human affairs ; to diffuse as 
 widely and equally as possible, among his fellow- 
 citizens, the advantages of the social union ; and, 
 by/ a careful study of the constitution of man, and of 
 the circumstances in which he is placed, to modify 
 the political order, in such a manner as may allow 
 free scope and operation to those principles of in- 
 tellectual and moral improvement, which nature has 
 implanted in our species. 
 
 In all these cases, I am very sensible, that the uti- 
 lity of systematical rules has been called in question 
 by philosophers of note ; and that many plausible 
 arguments in support of their opinion, may be de- 
 rived from the small number of individuals who have 
 been regularly trained to eminence in the arts, in 
 comparison of those who have been guided merely 
 by untutored genius, and the example of their pre- 
 decessors. I know, too, that it may be urged with 
 truth, that rules have, in some cases, done more 
 harm than good ; and have misled, instead of di- 
 recting, the natural exertions of the mind. But, in 
 all such instances, in which philosophical principles 
 have failed in producing their intended effect, I will 
 venture to assert, that they have done so, either in 
 consequence of errors, which were accidentally 
 blended with them ; or, in consequence of their pos-
 
 60 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Introd. 
 
 sessing only that slight and partial influence over the 
 genius, which enabled them to derange its previ- 
 ously acquired habits ; without regulating its oper- 
 ations, upon a systematical plan, with steadiness and 
 efficacy. In all the arts of life, whether trifling or 
 important, there is a certain degree of skill, which 
 may be attained by our untutored powers, aided by 
 imitation j and this skill, instead of being perfected 
 by rules, may, by means of them, be diminished or 
 destroyed, if these rules are partially and imper- 
 fectly apprehended ; or even if they are not so fami- 
 liarized to the understanding, as to influence its ex- 
 ertions uniformly and habitually. In the case of a 
 musical performer, who has learnt his art merely by 
 the ear, the first effects of systematical instruction, 
 are, I believe, always unfavourable. The effect is 
 the same, of the rules of elocution, when first com- 
 municated to one who has attained, by his natural 
 taste and good sense, a tolerable propriety in the art 
 of reading. But it does not follow from this, that, in 
 either of these arts, rules are useless. It only follows, 
 that, in order to unite ease and grace with correct- 
 ness, and to preserve the felicities of original genius, 
 amidst those restraints which may give them an use- 
 ful direction, it is necessary that the acquisitions of 
 education should, by long and early habits, be ren- 
 dered, in some measure, a second nature. The 
 
 same observations will be found to apply, with very 
 slight alterations, to arts of more serious importance. 
 In the art of legislation, for example, there is a 
 certain degree of skill, which maybe acquired merely 
 from the routine of business j and when once a poli- 
 tician has been formed, in this manner, among the 
 
 ii
 
 Part II. 2. OF TUB HUMAN MIND. 6 1 
 
 details of office, a partial study of general principles 
 will be much more likely to lead him astray, than to 
 enlighten his conduct. But there is nevertheless a 
 science of legislation, which the details of office, and 
 the intrigues of popular assemblies, will never com- 
 municate ; a science, of which the principles must be 
 sought for in the constitution of human nature, and 
 in the general laws which regulate the course of 
 human affairs ; and which, if ever, in consequence 
 of the progress of reason, philosophy should be en- 
 abled to assume that ascendant in the government 
 of the world, which has hitherto been maintained 
 by accident, combined with the passions and ca- 
 prices of a few leading individuals, may, perhaps, 
 produce more perfect and happy forms of society, 
 than have yet been realized in the history of man- 
 kind. 
 
 I have thus endeavoured to point out, and illus- 
 trate, a few of the most important purposes to which 
 the philosophy of the human mind is subservient. 
 It will not, however, I flatter myself, be supposed 
 by any of my readers, that I mean to attempt a sys- 
 tematical work, on all, or any of the subjects I have 
 now mentioned ; the most limited of which, would 
 furnish matter for many volumes. What I have 
 aimed at, has been, to give, in the first place, as 
 distinct and complete an analysis as I could, of the 
 principles, both intellectual and active, of our na- 
 ture ; and, in the second place, to illustrate, as I 
 proceed, the application of these general laws of 
 the human consistution, to the different classes of 
 phenomena which result from them. In the selec- 
 tion of these phenomena, although I have sometimes
 
 62 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY, &C. Introd. 
 
 been guided chiefly by the curiosity of the moment, 
 or the accidental course of my own studies ; yet, I 
 have had it in view, to vary, as far as possible, the 
 nature of my speculations, in order to show how nu- 
 merous and different the applications are, of which 
 this philosophy is susceptible. It will not, therefore, 
 I hope, be objected to me, that I have been guilty 
 of a blameable violation of unity in the plan of my 
 work, till it be considered how far such a violation 
 was useful for accomplishing the purposes for 
 which I write. One species of unity, I am willing 
 to believe, an attentive reader will be able to trace 
 in it : I mean, that uniformity of thought and de- 
 sign, " which" (as Butler well remarks,) " we may 
 " always expect to meet with in the compositions 
 " of the same author, when he writes with simpli- 
 " city, and in earnest."
 
 ELEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST. 
 Of the Powers of External Perception. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Theories "which have been formed by Philosophersj to er- 
 plain the manner in which the MIND perceives external 
 Objects. 
 
 AMONG the various phenomena which the human 
 mind presents to our view, there is none more cal- 
 culated to excite our curiosity and our wonder, 
 than the communication which is carried on between 
 the sentient, thinking, and active principle within 
 us, and the material objects with which we are sur- 
 rounded. How little soever the bulk of mankind
 
 64 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 may be disposed to attend to such inquiries, there 
 is scarcely a person to be found, who has not occa- 
 sionally turned his thoughts to that mysterious in- 
 fluence, which the will possesses over the members 
 of the body j and to those powers of perception, 
 which seem to inform us, by a sort of inspiration, 
 of the various changes which take place in the ex- 
 ternal universe. Of those who receive the advan- 
 tages of a liberal education, there are perhaps few, 
 who pass the period of childhood, without feeling 
 their curiosity excited by this incomprehensible 
 communication between mind and matter. For my 
 own part, at least, I cannot recollect the date of my 
 earliest speculations on the subject. 
 
 It is to the phenomena of perception alone, that 
 I am to confine myself in the following essay ; and 
 even with respect to these, all that I propose is, to 
 offer a few general remarks on such of the common 
 mistakes concerning them, as may be most likely to 
 mislead us in our future inquiries. Such of my 
 readers as wish to consider them more in detail, will 
 find ample satisfaction in the writings of Dr. REID. 
 
 In considering the phenomena of perception, it 
 is natural to suppose, that the attention of philo- 
 sophers would be directed, in the first instance, to 
 the sense of seeing. The variety of information 
 and of enjoyment we receive by it j the rapidity 
 with which this information and enjoyment are 
 conveyed to us ; and above all, the intercourse it 
 enables us to maintain with the more distant part 
 of the universe, cannot fail to give it, even in the 
 apprehension of the most careless observer, a pre- 
 eminence over all our other perceptive faculties.
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 65 
 
 Hence it is, that the various theories, which have 
 been formed to explain the operations of our senses, 
 have a more immediate reference to that of seeing ; 
 and that the greater part of the metaphysical 
 language, concerning perception in general, ap- 
 pears evidently, from its etymology, to have been 
 suggested by the phenomena of vision. Even when 
 applied to this sense, indeed, it can at most amuse the 
 fancy, without conveying any precise knowledge ; 
 but, when applied to the other senses, it is altogether 
 absurd and unintelligible. 
 
 It would be tedious and useless, to consider par- 
 ticularly, the different hypotheses which have been 
 advanced upon this subject. To all of them, I ap- 
 prehend, the two following remarks will be found 
 applicable : First, that, in the formation of them, 
 their authors have been influenced by some general 
 maxims of philosophising, borrowed from physics ; 
 and secondly, that they have been influenced by an 
 indistinct, but deep-rooted, conviction, of the im- 
 materiality of the soul ; which although not precise 
 enough to point out to them the absurdity of at- 
 tempting to illustrate its operations by the analogy 
 of matter, was yet sufficiently strong, to induce 
 them to keep the absurdity of their theories as far 
 as possible out of view, by allusions to those physi- 
 cal facts, in which the distinctive properties of mat- 
 ter are the least grossly and palpably exposed to our 
 observation. To the former of these circumstances, 
 is to be ascribed, the general principle, upon which 
 all the known theories of perception proceed ; that, 
 in order to explain the intercourse between the 
 mind and distant objects, it is necessary to suppose
 
 66 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 the existence of something intermediate, by which 
 its perceptions are produced ; to the latter, the 
 various metaphorical expressions of ideas, species, 
 forms, shadows, phantasms, images; which, while 
 they amused the fancy with some remote analogies 
 to the objects of our senses, did not directly revolt 
 our reason, by presenting to us any of the tangible 
 qualities of body. 
 
 " It was the doctrine of ARISTOTLE, (says Dr. 
 
 " REID,) that as our senses cannot receive external 
 
 " material objects themselves, they receive their 
 
 " species ; that is, their images or forms, without 
 
 " the matter ; as wax receives the form of the seal, 
 
 " without any of the matter of it. These images or 
 
 " forms, impressed upon the senses, are called sen- 
 
 " sible species ; and are the objects only of the sen- 
 
 " sitive part of the mind : but by various, internal 
 
 " powers, they are retained, refined, and spiritual- 
 
 " ized, so as to become objects of memory and ima- 
 
 " gination ; and, at last, of pure intellection. When 
 
 " they are objects of memory and of imagination, 
 
 " they get the name of phantasms. When, by farther 
 
 " refinement, and being stripped of their particular- 
 
 " ities, they become objects of science, they are 
 
 " called intelligible species: so that every immediate 
 
 " object, whether of sense, of memory, of imagin- 
 
 " ation, or of reasoning, must be some phantasm, 
 
 " or species, in the mind itself. 
 
 " The followers of Aristotle, especially the school- 
 " men, made great additions to this theory ; which 
 " the author himself mentions very briefly, and with 
 " an appearance of reserve. They entered into 
 " large disquisitions with regard to the sensible
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. i)J 
 
 " species, what kind of things they are ; how tliey 
 " are sent forth by the object, and enter by the 
 " organs of the senses ; how they are preserved, 
 " and refined by various agents, called internal 
 " senses, concerning the number and offices of 
 " which they had many controversies." * 
 
 The Platonists, too, although they denied the 
 great doctrine of the, Peripatetics, that all the ob- 
 jects of human understanding enter at first by the 
 senses ; and maintained, that there exist eternal 
 and immutable ideas, which were prior to the ob- 
 jects of sense, and about which all science was em- 
 ployed ; yet appear to have agreed with them in 
 their notions concerning the mode in which external 
 objects are perceived. This, Dr. Reid infers, partly 
 from the silence of Aristotle about any difference 
 between himself and his master upon this point ; 
 and partly from a passage in the seventh book of 
 Plato's Republic ; in which he compares the pro- 
 cess of the mind in perception, to that of a person 
 in a cave, who sees not external objects themselves, 
 but only their shadows, t 
 
 " Two thousand years after Plato, (continues Dr. 
 " Reid,) Mr. Locke, who studied the operations of 
 " the human mind so much, and with so great suc- 
 ( cess, represents our manner of perceiving external 
 " objects, by a similitude very much resembling 
 " that of the cave. " Methinks," says he, " the 
 " understanding is not much unlike a closet, wholly 
 " shut from light, with only some little opening 
 " left, to let in external visible resemblances or ideas 
 
 * Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, p. 25. 
 f Ibid. p. 99. 
 
 F 2
 
 68 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 " of things without. Would the pictures coming 
 " into such a dark room but stay there, and lie so 
 " orderly as to be found upon occasion, it would 
 " very much resemble the understanding of a man, 
 " in reference to all objects of sight, and the ideas 
 of them."* 
 
 " Plato's subterranean cave, and Mr. Locke's 
 " dark closet, may be applied with ease to all the 
 "systems of perceptions that have been invented: 
 " for they all suppose, that we perceive not external 
 " objects immediately ; and that the immediate ob- 
 " jects of perception, are only certain shadows of 
 " the external objects. Those shadows, or images, 
 " which we immediately perceive, were by the an- 
 " cients called species,forms t phantasms. Since the 
 " time of Des Cartes, they have commonly been 
 " called ideas t ; and by Mr. Hume, impressions. 
 " But all philosophers, from Plato to Mr. Hume, 
 " agree in this, that we do not perceive external 
 " objects immediately ; and that the immediate ob- 
 ** ject of perception must be some image present to 
 " the mind." On the whole, Dr. Reid remarks, 
 " that in their sentiments concerning perception, 
 " there appears an uniformity, which rarely occurs 
 " upon subjects of so abstruse a nature." t 
 
 The very short and imperfect view we have now 
 taken, of the common theories of perception, is al- 
 most sufficient, without any commentary, to establish 
 the truth of the two general observations formerly 
 made ; for they all evidently proceed on a supposi- 
 
 * Locke on Human Understanding, book ii. chap. 11. 17. 
 f See Note [B]. J Reid, p. 116, 117.
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 69 
 
 tion, suggested by the phenomena of physics, that 
 there must of necessity exist some medium of com- 
 munication between the objects of perception and 
 the percipient mind ; and they all indicate a secret 
 conviction in their authors, of the essential distinc- 
 tion between mind and matter; which, although 
 not rendered, by reflection, sufficiently precise and 
 satisfactory, to shew them the absurdity of attempt- 
 ing to explain the mode of their communication ; 
 had yet such a degree of influence on their specula- 
 tions, as to induce them to exhibit their supposed 
 medium under as mysterious and ambiguous a form 
 as possible, in order that it might remain doubtful, 
 to which of the two predicaments, of body or mind, 
 they meant that it should be referred. By refining 
 away the grosser qualities of matter j and by allu- 
 sions to some of the most aerial and magical ap- 
 pearances it assumes, they endeavoured, as it were, 
 to spiritualize the nature of their medium ; while, 
 at the same time, all their language concerning it, 
 implied such a reference to matter, as was necessary 
 for furnishing a plausible foundation, for applying 
 to it the received maxims of natural philosophy. 
 
 Another observation, too, which was formerly 
 hinted at, is confirmed by the same historical re- 
 view ; that, in the order of inquiry, the phenomena 
 of vision had first engaged the attention of philoso-* 
 phers, and had suggested to them the greater par^ 
 of their language, with respect to perception in ge- 
 neral ; and that, in consequence oft his circumstance, 
 the common modes of expression on the subject, 
 unphilosophical and fanciful at best, even when ap- 
 plied to the sense of seeing, are, in the case of all 
 
 F 3
 
 70 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY chap. I. 
 
 the other senses, obviously unintelligible and self- 
 contradictory. " As to objects of sight," says 
 Dr. Reid, " I understand what is meant by an image 
 " of their figure in the brain : but how shall we 
 *' conceive an image of their colour where there is 
 ' absolute darkness? And, as to all other objects 
 " of sense, except figure and colour, I am unable 
 " to conceive what is meant by an image of them. 
 " Let any man say, what he means by an image of 
 " heat and cold, an image of hardness or softness, 
 tt an image of sound, or smell, or taste. The word 
 " image, when applied to these objects of sense, 
 " has absolutely no meaning." This palpable 
 imperfection in the ideal theory, has plainly taken 
 rise from the natural order in which the phenomena 
 of perception present themselves to the curiosity. 
 
 The mistakes, which have been so long current in 
 the world, about this part of the human constitu- 
 tion, will, I hope, justify me for prosecuting the 
 subject a little farther ; in particular, for illustrat- 
 ing at some length, the first of the two general 
 remarks already referred to. This speculation I 
 enter upon the more willingly, that it affords me an 
 opportunity of stating some important principles 
 with respect to the object, and the limits, of philo- 
 sophical inquiry ; to which I shall frequently have 
 occasion to refer, in the course of the following 
 disquisitions.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 71 
 
 3 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of certain natural Prejudices, uokich seem to have given rise to 
 the common Theories of Perception. 
 
 IT seems now to be pretty generally agreed among 
 philosophers, that there is no instance in which 
 we are able to perceive a necessary connexion be- 
 tween two successive events ; or to comprehend in 
 what manner the one proceeds from the other, as 
 its cause. From experience, indeed, we learn, that 
 there are many events, which are constantly con- 
 joined, so that the one invariably follows the other: 
 but it is possible, for any thing we know to the con- 
 trary, that this connexion, though a constant one, as 
 far as our observation has reached, may not be a 
 necessary connexion ; nay, it is possible, that there 
 may be no necessary connexions among any of the 
 phenomena we see : and, if there are any such con- 
 nexions existing, we may rest assured that we shall 
 never be able to discover them. * 
 
 I shall endeavour to shew, in another part of this 
 work, that the doctrine I have now stated does not 
 lead to these sceptical conclusions, concerning the 
 existence of a First Cause, which an author of great 
 ingenuity has attempted to deduce from it. At 
 present, it is sufficient for my purpose to remark, 
 that the word cause is used, both by philosophers 
 and the vulgar, in two senses, which are widely dif- 
 
 (' ; 
 
 * See Note [C]. 
 F 4<
 
 72 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 ferent. When it is said that every change in na- 
 ture indicates the operation of a cause, the word 
 cause expresses something which is supposed to be 
 necessarily connected with the change ; and with- 
 out which it could not have happened. This may 
 be called the metaphysical meaning of the word ; 
 and such causes may be called metaphysical or effi- 
 cient causes. In natural philosophy, however, when 
 we speak of one thing being the cause of another, 
 all that we mean is, that the two are constantly con- 
 joined; so that when we see the one, we may expect 
 the other. These conjunctions we learn from ex- 
 perience alone ; and without an acquaintance with 
 them, we could not accommodate our conduct to 
 the established course of nature. The causes 
 which are the objects of our investigation in natural 
 philosophy, may, for the sake of distinction, be 
 called physical causes. 
 
 I am very ready to acknowledge, that this doc- 
 trine, concerning the object of natural philosophy, 
 is not altogether agreeable to popular prejudices. 
 When a man, unaccustomed to metaphysical specu- 
 lations, is told, for the first time, that the science of 
 physics gives us no information concerning the 
 efficient causes of the phenomena about which it is 
 employed, he feels some degree of surprize and 
 mortification. The natural bias of the mind is 
 surely to conceive physical events as somehow link- 
 ed together ; and material substances, as possessed 
 of certain powers and virtues, which fit them to 
 produce particular effects. That we have no rea- 
 son to believe this to be the case, has been shewn 
 in a very particular manner by Mr. Hume, and by
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 73 
 
 other writers j and must, indeed, appear evident 
 to every person, on a moment's reflection. It is 
 a curious question, what gives rise to the pre- 
 judice ? 
 
 In stating the argument for the existence of the 
 Deity, several modern philosophers have been at 
 pains to illustrate that law of our nature, which leads 
 us to refer every change we perceive in the uni- 
 verse, to the operation of an efficient cause. * 
 This reference is not the result of reasoning, but 
 necessarily accompanies the perception, so as to 
 render it impossible for us to see the change, with- 
 out feeling a conviction of the operation of some 
 cause by which it was produced ; much in the same 
 manner in which we find it to be impossible to con- 
 ceive a sensation, without being impressed with a 
 belief of the existence of a sentient being. Hence, 
 I apprehend, it is that when we see two events con- 
 stantly conjoined, we are led to associate the idea 
 of causation or efficiency, with the former, and to 
 refer to it that power or energy by which the change 
 was produced ; in consequence of which associa- 
 tion, we come to consider philosophy as the know- 
 ledge of efficient causes ; and lose sight of the oper- 
 ation of mind, in producing the phenomena of na- 
 ture. It is by an association somewhat similar, 
 that we connect our sensations of colour, with the 
 primary qualities of body. A moment's reflection 
 must satisfy any one, that the sensation of colour 
 can only reside in a mind j and yet our natural bias 
 
 * See, in particular, Dr. Reid's Essays on the Intellectual 
 Powers of Man.
 
 7* ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 is surely to connect colour with extension and figure, 
 and to conceive, white, blue, and yellow, as some- 
 thing spread over the surfaces of bodies. In the 
 same way, we are led to associate with inanimate 
 matter, the ideas oi' power, force, energy, and caus- 
 ation ; which are all attributes of mind, and can 
 exist in a mind only. 
 
 The bias of our nature is strengthened by another 
 association. Our language, with respect to cause 
 and effect, is borrowed by analogy from material 
 objects. Some of these we see scattered about us, 
 without any connexion between them ; so that one 
 of them may be removed from its place, without 
 disturbing the rest. We can, however, by means 
 of some material vinculum, connect two or more 
 objects together; so that whenever the one is moved, 
 the others shall follow. In like manner, we see some 
 events, which occasionally follow one another, and 
 which are occasionally disjoined ; we see others, 
 where the succession is constant and invariable. 
 The former we conceive to be analogous to objects 
 which are loose, and unconnected with each other, 
 and whose contiguity in place, is owing merely to ac- 
 cidental position ; the others to objectswhich are tied 
 together by a material vinculum. Hence we transfer 
 to such events, the same language which we apply to 
 connected objects. We speak of a connexion between 
 two events, and of a chain of causes and effects.* 
 
 That this language is merely analogical, and that 
 we know nothing of physical events, but the laws 
 which regulate their succession, must, I think, appear 
 
 * See Note [D].
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 75 
 
 very obvious to every person who takes the trouble 
 to reflect on the subject : and yet it is certain, that it 
 has misled the greater part of philosophers; and has 
 had a surprising influence on the systems, which they 
 have formed in very different departments of science. 
 A few remarks, on some of the mistaken conclu- 
 sions, to which the vulgar notions concerning the 
 connexions among physical events have given rise> 
 in natural philosophy, will illustrate clearly the 
 origin of the common theories of perception ; and 
 will, at the same time, satisfy the reader, with re- 
 spect to the train of thought, which suggested the 
 foregoing observations. 
 
 The maxim, that nothing can act but where it is 
 and when it is, has always been admitted, with re- 
 spect to metaphysical or efficient causes. " What- 
 " ever objects," says Mr. Hume, " are considered as 
 " causes or effects, are contiguous ; and nothing can 
 " operate in a time or place, which is ever so little 
 " removed from those of its existence." " We may 
 " therefore ("he adds) consider the relation of conti- 
 " guity as essential to that of causation." But 
 although this maxim should be admitted, with re- 
 spect to causes which are efficient, and which, as 
 such, are necessarily connected with their effects, 
 there is surely no good reason for extending it to 
 physical causes, of which we know nothing, but 
 that they are the constant forerunners and signs of 
 certain natural events. It may, indeed, be impro- 
 per, according to this doctrine, to retain the expres- 
 sions, cause and effect, in natural philosophy ; but, 
 as long as the present language upon the subject 
 continues in use, the propriety of its application, in
 
 76 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 any particular instance, does not depend on the con- 
 tiguity of the two events in place or time, but solely 
 on this question, whether the one event be the con- 
 stant and invariable forerunner of the other, so that 
 it may be considered as its infallible sign ? Not- 
 withstanding, however, the evidence of this con- 
 clusion, philosophers have in general proceeded 
 upon a contrary supposition ; and have discovered 
 an unwillingness, even in physics, to call one event 
 the cause of another, if the smallest interval of 
 space or time existed between them. In the case 
 of motion, communicated by impulse, they have no 
 scruple to call the impulse the cause of the motion j 
 but they will not admit that one body can be the 
 cause of motion in another, placed at a distance 
 from it, unless a connexion is carried on between 
 them, by means of some intervening medium. 
 
 It is unnecessary for me, after what has already 
 been said, to employ any arguments to prove, that 
 the communication of motion by impulse, is as un- 
 accountable as any other phenomenon in nature. 
 Those philosophers who have attended at all to the 
 subject, even they who have been the least sceptical 
 with respect to cause and effect, and who have 
 admitted a necessary connexion among physical 
 events, have been forced to acknowledge, that they 
 could not discover any necessary connexion be- 
 tween impulse and motion. Hence, some of them 
 have been led to conclude, that the impulse only 
 rouses the activity of the body, and that the sub- 
 sequent motion is the effect of this activity, con- 
 stantly exerted. " Motion," says one writer, " is 
 " action ; and a continued motion Implies a conti-
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 77 
 
 " nued action." " The impulse is only the cause 
 44 of the beginning of the motion : its continuance 
 " must be the effect of some other cause, which 
 " continues to act as long as the body continues to 
 " move." The attempt which another writer of 
 great learning has made, to revive the ancient the- 
 ory of mind, has arisen from a similar view of the 
 subject before us. He could discover no necesssary 
 connexion between impulse and motion ; and 
 concluded, that the impulse was only the occasion 
 of the motion, the beginning and continuance of 
 which he ascribed to the continued agency of the 
 mind with which the body is animated. 
 
 Although, however, it be obvious, on a moment's 
 consideration, that we are as ignorant of the con- 
 nexion between impulse and motion, as of the con- 
 nexion between fire and any of the effects we see it 
 produce, philosophers, in every age, seem to have 
 considered the production of motion by impulse, as 
 almost the only physical fact which stood in need 
 of no explanation. When we see one body attract 
 another at a distance, our curiosity is roused, and 
 we inquire how the connexion is carried on be- 
 tween them. But when we see a body begin to 
 move in consequence of an impulse which another 
 has given it, we inquire no farther : on the con- 
 trary, we think a fact sufficiently accounted for, if 
 it can be shewn to be a case of impulse. This dis- 
 tinction, between motion produced by impulse, and 
 the other phenomena of nature, we are led, in a 
 great measure, to make, by confounding together 
 .efficient and physical causes ; and by applying to 
 the latter, maxims which have properly a reference 
 
 ii
 
 78 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 only to the former. Another circumstance, like- 
 wise, has probably considerable influence : that, as 
 it is by means of impulse alone, that we ourselves 
 have a power of moving external objects ; this fact 
 is more familiar to us from our infancy than any 
 other; and strikes us as a fact which is necessary, and 
 which could not have happened otherwise. Some 
 writers have even gone so far as to pretend that, 
 although the experiment had never been made, the 
 communication of motion by impulse, might have 
 been predicted by reasoning d priori. * 
 
 From the following passage, in one of Sir Isaac 
 Newton's letters to Dr. Bentley, it appears, that he 
 supposed the communication of motion by impulse, 
 to be a phenomenon much more explicable, than 
 that a connexion should subsist between two bodies 
 placed at a distance from each other, without any in- 
 tervening medium. " It is inconceivable," says 
 he, " that inanimate brute matter should, without 
 " the mediation of something else which is not ma- 
 " terial, operate upon, and affect other matter, 
 " without mutual contact ; as it must do, if gravi- 
 " tation, in the sense of Epicurus, be essential and 
 " inherent in it. And this is one reason why I de- 
 " sired that you would not ascribe innate gravity 
 " to me. That gravity should be innate, inherent, 
 " and essential to matter, so that one body may act 
 " on another, through a vacuum, w-ithout the me- 
 " diation of any thing else, by and through which 
 " their action and force may be conveyed from one 
 
 * See an Answer to Lord Kaimes's Essay on Motion ; by John 
 Stewart, M.D.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND..UJ 79 
 
 " to another, is to me so great an absurdity, that I 
 " believe no man who has, in philosophical matters, 
 " a competent faculty of thinking, can ever fall 
 " into it." 
 
 With this passage I so far agree, as to allow that 
 it is impossible to conceive, in what manner one 
 body acts on another at a distance, through a va- 
 cuum. But I cannot admit that it removes th6 
 difficulty to suppose, that the two bodies are ill 
 actual contact. That one body may be the efficient 
 cause of the motion of another body placed at a 
 distance from it, I do by no means assert ; but only, 
 that we have as good reason to believe that this 
 may be possible, as to believe that any one natural 
 event is the efficient 'cause of another. 
 
 I have been led into this very long disquisition, 
 concerning efficient and physical causes, in order to 
 point out the origin of the common theories of per- 
 ception ; all of which appear to me, to have taken 
 rise from the same prejudice, which I have already 
 remarked to have had so extensive an influence 
 upon the speculations of natural philosophers. 
 
 That, in the case of the perception of distant obi 
 jects, we are naturally inclined to suspect, either 
 something to be emitted from the object to the or- 
 gan of sense, or some medium to intervene between 
 the object and organ, by means of which the 
 former may communicate an impulse to the latter ; 
 appears from the common modes of expression on 
 the subject, which are to be found in all languages. 
 In our own, for example, we frequently hear the 
 vulgar speak, of light striking the eye; not in con- 
 sequence of any philosophical theory they have
 
 80 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 been taught, but of their own crude and undi- 
 rected speculations. Perhaps there are few men 
 among those who have attended at all to the his- 
 tory of their own thoughts, who will not recollect 
 the influence of these ideas, at a period of life long 
 prior to the date of their philosophical studies. 
 Nothing, indeed, can be conceived more simple 
 and natural than their origin. When an object is 
 placed in a certain situation with respect to a par- 
 ticular organ of the body, a perception arises in the 
 mind : when the object is removed, the perception 
 ceases. * Hence we are led to apprehend some 
 connexion between the object and the perception ; 
 and as we are accustomed to believe, that matter 
 produces its effects by impulse, we conclude that 
 there must be some material medium intervening 
 between the object and organ, by means of which 
 the impulse is communicated from the one to the 
 other. That this is really the case, I do not mean 
 to dispute. I think, however, it is evident, that 
 the existence of such a medium does not in any 
 case appear a priori ; and yet the natural prejudices 
 of men have given rise to an universal belief of it, 
 long before they were able to produce any good 
 arguments in support of their opinion. 
 
 * Turn porro varies rerum sentimus odores, 
 
 Nee tatnen ad nareis venienteis cernimus unquam : 
 Nee calidos aestus tuimur, nee frigora quimus 
 Usurpare oculis, nee voces cernere suemus; 
 Quse tamen omnia corporea constare necesse 'st 
 Nakura ; quoniam sensus impellere possunt. 
 
 LUCRET. lib. i. p. 299.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 81 
 
 Nor is it only to account for the connexion be- 
 tween the object and the organ of sense, that philo- 
 sophers have had recourse to the theory of impulse. 
 They have imagined that the impression on the or- 
 gan of sense is communicated to the mind, in a si- 
 milar manner. As one body produces a change in 
 the state of another by impulse, so it has been sup- 
 posed, that the external object produces perception, 
 (which is a change in the state of the mind,) first, 
 by some material impression made on the organ of 
 sense ; and, secondly, by some material impression 
 communicated from the organ to the mind along the 
 nerves and brain. These suppositions, indeed, as 
 I had occasion already to hint, were, in the ancient 
 theories of perception, rather implied than expres- 
 sed ; but by modern philosophers, they have been 
 stated in the form of explicit propositions. " As to 
 " the manner," says Mr. Locke, " in which bodies 
 " produce ideas in us ; it is manifestly by impulse, 
 " the only way which we can conceive bodies ope- 
 " rate in." * And Sir Isaac Newton, although he 
 does not speak of an impulse made on the mind, 
 plainly proceeded on the principle that, as matter 
 can only move matter by impulse, so no connexion 
 could be carried on between matter and mind, un- 
 less the mind were present (as he expresses it) to 
 the matter from which the last impression is com- 
 municated. " Is not" (says he) " the sensorium of 
 " animals, the place where the sentient substance 
 " is present ; and to which the sensible species of 
 " things are brought, through the nerves and brain, 
 
 * Essay on Human Understanding, book ii. chap. viii. 11. 
 
 G
 
 82 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 " that there they may be perceived by the mind 
 " present in that place ?" Dr. Clarke has expres- 
 sed the same idea still more confidently, in the fol- 
 lowing passage of one of his letters to Leibnitz* 
 " Without being present * to the images of the 
 " things perceived, the soul could not possibly per- 
 ' ceive them. A living substance can only there 
 " perceive, where it is present. Nothing can any 
 " more act, or be acted upon, where it is not pre- 
 " sent, than it can when it is not." " How body 
 " acts upon mind, or mind upon body," (says Dr. 
 Porterfieldt,) " I know not ; but this I am very cer- 
 " tain of, that nothing can act, or be acted upon, 
 " where it is not ; and therefore our mind can never 
 " perceive any thing but its own proper modifica- 
 " tions, and the various states of the sensorium, to 
 
 * This phrase of " the soul being present to the images of ex- 
 ternal objects," has been used by many philosophers, since the 
 time of Des Cartes ; evidently .from a desire to avoid the ab- 
 surdity of supposing, that images of extension and figure can 
 exist in an unextended mind. 
 
 " Quasris," (says Des Cartes himself, in replying to the ob- 
 jections of one of his antagonists,) " quomodo existimem in me 
 " subjecto inextenso recipi posse speciem, ideamve corporis 
 " quod extensum est. Respondeo nullam speciem corpoream 
 " in mente recipi, sed puram intellectionem tarn rei corporece 
 " quani incorporeae fieri absque ulla specie corporea ; ad imagi- 
 " nationem vero, quae non nisi de rebus corporeis esse potest, 
 " opus quidem esse specie quae sit verura corpus, et ad quam 
 " mens se applicet, sed non quae in mente recipia.tur." It ap- 
 pears, therefore, that this philosopher supposed his images, or 
 ideas, to exist in the brain, and not in the mind. Mr. Locke's 
 expressions sometimes imply the one supposition, and some- 
 times the other. 
 
 f See his Treatise on the Eye, vol. ii. p. 336.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 83 
 
 " which it is present : so that it is not the external 
 " sun and moon, which are in the heavens, which 
 " our mind perceives, but only their image or 
 " representation, impressed upon the sensorium. 
 '* How the soul of a seeing man sees these images, 
 " or how it receives those ideas, from such.agita- 
 " tions in the sensorium, I know riot ; but I am 
 " sure it can never perceive the external bodies 
 " themselves, to which it is not present." 
 
 * The same train of thinking, which had led 
 these philosophers to suppose, that external objects 
 are perceived by means of species proceeding from 
 the object to the mind, or by means of some ma- 
 terial impression made on the mind by the brain, 
 has suggested to a late writer a very different theory: 
 that the mind, when it perceives an external ob- 
 ject, quits the body, and is present to the object of 
 perception. " The mind," (says the learned author 
 of Ancient Metaphysics,) " is not where the body 
 " is, when it perceives what is distant from the 
 " body, either in time or place, because nothing 
 " can act, but when, and where, it is. Now, the 
 " mind acts when it perceives. The mind, there- 
 
 * " The slightest philosophy" (says Mr. Hume) " teaches us, 
 " that nothing can ever he present to the mind, but an image, 
 " or perception ; and that the senses are only the .inlets, 
 " through which these images are conveyed ; without being 
 " able to produce any immediate intercourse between the mind 
 " and the object. The table, which we see, seems to diminish, 
 *' as we remove farther from it : but the real table, which exists 
 " independent of us, suffers no alteration : it was, therefore, 
 '< nothing but its image which was present to the mind. These" 
 (he adds) " are the obvious dictates of reason." 
 
 on the ACAPEMICAL or SCEPTICAL PHILOSOPHY. 
 G 2 ,
 
 84 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 " fore, of every animal who has memory or imagi- 
 " nation, acts, and by consequence exists, when and 
 " where the body is not ; for it perceives objects 
 distant from the body both in time and place." * 
 Indeed, if we take for granted, that in perception the 
 mind acts upon the object, or the object upon the 
 mind, and, at the same time, admit the truth of the 
 maxim, that " nothing can act but where it is," we 
 must, of necessity, conclude, either that objects are 
 perceived in a way similar to what is supposed in 
 the ideal theory, or that, in every act of perception, 
 the soul quits the body, and is present to the object 
 perceived. And accordingly, this alternative is ex- 
 pressly stated by Malebranche ; who differs, how- 
 ever, from the writer last quoted, in the choice 
 which he makes of his hypothesis j and even rests 
 his proof of its truth on the improbability of the other 
 opinion. " I suppose," says he, " that every one 
 " will grant, that we perceive not external objects 
 " immediately, and of themselves. We see the sun, 
 " the stars, and an infinity of objects without us ; 
 " and it is not at all likely that, upon such occasions, 
 " the soul sallies out of the body, in order to be 
 " present to the objects perceived. She sees them 
 " not therefore by themselves ; and the immediate 
 " object of the mind is not the thing perceived, 
 ' but something which is intimately united to the 
 " soul ; and it is that which I call an idea : so that 
 " by the word idea, I understand nothing else here 
 " but that which is nearest to the mind when we 
 " perceive any object. It ought to be carefully 
 
 * Ant. Met. vol. ii. p. 306.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 85 
 
 " observed, that, in order to the mind's perceiving 
 " any object, it is absolutely necessary that the idea 
 " of that object be actually present to it. Of this 
 '* it is not possible to doubt. The things which the 
 " soul perceives, are of two kinds. They are either 
 " in the soul, or they are without the soul. Those 
 " that are in the soul, are its own thoughts ; that 
 " is to say, all its different modifications. The 
 " soul has no need of ideas for perceiving these 
 " things. But with regard to things without the 
 " soul, we cannot perceive them but by means of 
 " ideas." 
 
 To these quotations, I shall add another, which 
 contains the opinion of Buffon upon the subject. 
 As I do not understand it so completely, as to be 
 able to translate it in a manner intelligible to my- 
 self, I shall transcribe it in the words of the author. 
 
 " L'ame s'unit intimement a tel objet qu'il hu 
 " plait, la distance, la grandeur, la figure, rien ne 
 " peut nuire a cette union lorsque Tame la veut: elle 
 " se fait et se fait et un instant .... la volonte n'est 
 " elle done qu'un mouvement corporel, et la con- 
 " templation un simple attouehement ? Comment 
 " cet attouehement pourroit-il se faire sur un objet 
 " eloigne, sur un sujet abstrait ? Comment pour- 
 " roit-il s'operer en un instant indivisible ? A-t-on 
 " jamais congu du mouvement, sans qu'il y cut de 
 " 1'espace et du terns ? La volonte, si c'est un 
 " mouvement, n'est done pas un mouvement ma- 
 " teriel, et .si 1'union de 1'ame a son objet est un 
 " attouehement, un contact, cet attouehement ne se 
 " fait-il pas au loin ? ce contact n'est il pas une 
 " penetration ?" 
 
 G 3
 
 86 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 All these theories appear to me to have taken 
 their rise, first, from an inattention to the proper 
 object of philosophy, and an application of the same 
 general maxims to physical and to efficient causes ; 
 and, secondly, from an apprehension, that we un- 
 derstand the connexion between impulse and 
 motion, better than any other physical fact. From 
 the detail which I have given, it appears how exten- 
 sive an influence this prejudice has had on the 
 inquiries both of natural philosophers and of meta- 
 physicians. 
 
 In the foregoing reasonings, I have taken for 
 granted, that motion may be produced by impulse ; 
 and have contented myself with asserting, that this 
 fact is not more explicable, than the motions which 
 the Newtonians refer to gravitation ; or than the 
 intercourse which is carried on between the mind 
 and external objects in the case of perception. 
 The truth, however, is, that some of the ablest phi- 
 losophers in Europe are now satisfied, not only that 
 there is no evidence of motion being in any case 
 produced by the actual contact of two bodies ; but 
 that very strong proofs may be given, of the abso- 
 lute impossibility of such a supposition : and hence 
 they have been led to conclude, that all the effects 
 which are commonly referred to impulse, arise from 
 a power of repulsion, extending to a small and 
 imperceptible distance round every element of 
 matter. If this doctrine shall be confirmed by 
 future speculations in physics, it must appear to 
 be a curious circumstance in the history of science, 
 that philosophers have been so long occupied in 
 attempting to trace all the phenomena of matter, and 
 
 3
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 87 
 
 even some of the phenomena of mind, to a gene- 
 ral fact, which, upon an accurate examination, is 
 
 found to have no existence. 1 do not make 
 
 this observation with a view to depreciate the labours 
 of these philosophers ; for, although the system of 
 Boscovich were completely established, it would not 
 diminish, in the smallest degree, the value of those 
 physical inquiries, which have proceeded on the 
 common hypothesis, with respect to impulse. The 
 laws which regulate the communication of motion, 
 in the case of apparent contact, are the most general 
 facts we observe among the terrestrial phenomena ; 
 and they are, of all physical events, those which are 
 the most familiar to us, from our earliest infancy. 
 It was therefore not only natural but proper, that 
 philosophers should begin their physical inquiries, 
 with attempting to refer to these, (which are the 
 most general laws of nature, exposed to the examin- 
 ation of our senses,) the particular appearances they 
 wished to explain. And if ever the theory of Bos- 
 covich should be completely established, it will have 
 no other effect, than to resolve these laws into some 
 principle still more general, without affecting the 
 solidity of the common doctrine, so far as it goes* 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of Dr. Reid's Speculations on the Subject of Perception. 
 
 IT was chiefly in consequence of the sceptical con- 
 clusions which Bishop Berkeley and Mr. Hume had 
 deduced from the ancient theories of perception, 
 that Dr. Reid was led to call them in question ; 
 and he appears to me to have shewn, in the most 
 
 G 4
 
 88 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 satisfactory manner, not only that they are per- 
 fectly hypothetical, but that the suppositions they 
 involve, are absurd and impossible. His reason- 
 ings, on this part of our constitution, undoubtedly 
 form the most important accession which the phi- 
 losophy of the human mind has received since the 
 time of Mr. Locke. 
 
 But although Dr. Reid has been at much pains 
 to overturn the old ideal system, he has not ven- 
 tured to substitute any hypothesis of his own in its 
 place. And, indeed, he was too well acquainted 
 with the limits prescribed to our philosophical in- 
 quiries, to think of indulging his curiosity, in such 
 unprofitable speculations. All, therefore, that he 
 is to be understood as aiming at, in his inquiries 
 concerning our perceptive powers, is to give a pre- 
 cise state of the fact, divested of all theoretical ex- 
 pressions; in order to prevent philosophers from 
 imposing on themselves any longer, by words with- 
 out meaning ; and to extort from them an acknow- 
 ledgment, that, with respect to the process of nature 
 in perception, they are no less ignorant than the 
 vulgar. -:'.v 
 
 According to this view of Dr. Reid's reasonings, 
 on the subject of perception, the purpose to which 
 they are subservient may appear to some to be of no 
 very considerable importance ; but the truth is, that 
 one of the most valuable effects of genuine philo- 
 sophy, is to remind us of the limited powers of the 
 human understanding ; and to revive those natural 
 feelings of wonder and admiration, at the spectacle 
 of the universe, which are apt to languish, in con- 
 sequence of long familiarity. The most profound
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 89 
 
 discoveries which are placed within the reach of our 
 researches lead to a confession of human ignorance ; 
 for, while they flatter the pride of man, and increase 
 his power, by enabling him to trace the simple and 
 beautiful laws by which physical events are regu- 
 lated, they call his attention, at the same time to 
 those general and ultimate facts which bound the 
 narrow circle of his knowledge; and which, by 
 evincing to him the operation of powers, whose 
 nature must for ever remain unknown, serve to re- 
 mind him of the insufficiency of his faculties to 
 penetrate the secrets of the universe. Wherever we 
 direct our inquiries ; whether to the anatomy and 
 physiology of animals, to the growth of vegetables, 
 to the chemical attractions and repulsions, or to the 
 motions of the heavenly bodies ; we perpetually 
 perceive the effects of powers which cannot belong 
 to matter. To a certain length we are able to pro- 
 ceed ; but in every research we meet with a line, 
 which no industry nor ingenuity can pass. It is a 
 line too, which is marked with sufficient distinct- 
 ness ; and which no man now thinks of passing, 
 who has just views of the nature and object of phi- 
 losophy. It forms the separation between that field 
 which falls under the survey of the physical in- 
 quirer, and that unknown region, of which, though 
 it was necessary that we should be assured of the 
 existence, in order to lay a foundation for the doc- 
 trines of natural theology, it hath not pleased the 
 Author of the universe to reveal to us the wonders, 
 in this infant state of our being. It was, in fact, 
 chiefly by tracing out this line, that Lord Bacon 
 did samuch service to science.
 
 90 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. L 
 
 Beside this effect, which is common to all our 
 philosophical pursuits, ofimpressing the mind with 
 a sense of that mysterious agency, or efficiency, 
 into which general laws must be resolved ; they 
 have a tendency, in many cases, to counteract the 
 influence of habit, in weakening those emotions of 
 wonder and of curiosity, which the appearances of 
 nature are so admirably fitted to excite. For this 
 purpose, it is necessary, either to. lead the attention 
 to facts which are calculated to strike by thek 
 novelty, or to present familiar appearances in a new 
 light : and such are the obvious effects of philoso- 
 phical inquiries ; sometimes extending our views 
 to objects which are removed from vulgar observa- 
 tion ; and sometimes correcting our first apprehen- 
 sions with respect to ordinary events. The com- 
 munication of motion by impulse, (as I already 
 hinted,) is as unaccountable as any phenomenon 
 we know ; and yet, most men are disposed to con- 
 sider it, as a fact which does not result from will, 
 but from necessity. To such men, it may be use- 
 ful to direct their attention to the universal law of 
 gravitation ; which, although not more wonderful 
 in itself, than the common effects of impulse, is 
 more fitted, by its novelty, to awaken their atten- 
 tion, and to excite their curiosity. If the theory 
 of Boscovich should ever be established on a satis- 
 factory foundation, it would have this tendency in 
 a still more remarkable degree, by teaching us that 
 the communication of motion by impulse, (which 
 we are apt to consider as a necessary truth,) has no 
 existence whatever ; and that every case in which 
 it appears to our senses to take place, is a pheno-
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. Ql 
 
 menon no less inexplicable, than that principle of 
 attraction which binds together the most remote 
 parts of the universe. 
 
 If such, however, be the effects of our philosophi- 
 cal pursuits when successfully conducted, it must- 
 be confessed that the tendency of imperfect or 
 erroneous theories is widely different. By a speci- 
 ous solution of insuperable difficulties, they so 
 dazzle and bewilder the understanding, as, at once, 
 to prevent us from advancing, with steadiness, to- 
 wards the limit of human knowledge j and from 
 perceiving the existence of a region beyond it, into 
 which philosophy is not permitted to enter. In 
 such cases, it is the business of genuine science to 
 unmask the imposture, and to point out clearly, 
 both to the learned and to the vulgar, what reason 
 can, and what she cannot, accomplish. This, I ap- 
 prehend, has been done, with respect to the history 
 of our perceptions, in the most satisfactory manner, 
 by Dr. Reid. When a person little accustomed 
 to metaphysical speculations is told, that, in the 
 case of volition, there are certain invisible fluids, 
 propagated from the mind to the organ which is 
 moved ; and that in the case of perception, the 
 existence and qualities of the external object are 
 made known to us by means of species, or phan- 
 tasms, or images, which are present to the mind in 
 the sensorium ; he is apt to conclude that the in- 
 tercourse between mind and matter is much less 
 mysterious than he. had supposed ; and that, al- 
 though these expressions may not convey to him 
 any very distinct meaning, their import is perfectly 
 understood by philosophers. It is now, I think,
 
 92 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 pretty generally acknowledged by physiologists, 
 that the influence of the will over the body, is a 
 mystery which has never yet been unfolded ; but, 
 singular as it may appear, Dr. Reid was the first 
 person who had courage to lay completely aside all 
 the common hypothetical language concerning per- 
 ception, and to exhibit the difficulty in all its mag- 
 nitude, by a plain statement of the fact. To what 
 then, it may be asked, does this statement amount ? 
 Merely to this j that the mind is so formed, that 
 certain impressions produced on our organs of sense 
 byexternal objects, are followed by correspondent 
 sensations ; and that these sensations, (which have 
 no more resemblance to the qualities of matter, 
 than the words of a language have to the things 
 they denote,) are followed by a perception _of the 
 existence and qualities of the bodies by which the 
 impressions are made ; that all the steps of this pro- 
 cess are equally incomprehensible ; and that for 
 any thing we can prove to the contrary, the con- 
 nexion between the sensation and the perception, 
 as well as that between the impression and the sen- 
 sation, may be both arbitrary : that it is therefore 
 by.no means impossible, that our sensations may be 
 merely the occasions on which the correspondent 
 perceptions are excited ; aYid that, at any rate, the 
 consideration of these sensations, which are attri- 
 butes of mind, can throw no light on the manner in 
 which we acquire our knowledge of the existence 
 and qualities of body. From this view of the sub- 
 ject, it follows, that it is the external objects them- 
 selves, and not any species or images of these ob- 
 jects, that the mind perceives ; and that, although,
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 93 
 
 by the constitution of our nature, certain sensations 
 are rendered the constant antecedents of our per- 
 ceptions, yet it is just as difficult to explain how 
 our perceptions are obtained by their means, as it 
 would be, upon the supposition, that the mind were 
 all at once inspired with them, without any con- 
 comitant sensations whatever. 
 
 These remarks are general, and apply to all our 
 various perceptions ; and they evidently strike at the 
 root of all the common theories upon the subject. 
 The laws, however, which regulate these percep- 
 tions, are different in the case of the different senses, 
 and form a very curious object of philosophical in- 
 quiry. Those, in particular, which regulate the 
 acquired perceptions of sight, lead to some very in- 
 teresting and important speculations ; and, 1 think, 
 have never yet been explained in a manner com- 
 pletely satisfactory. To treat of them in detail, 
 does not fall under the plan of this work : but I 
 shall have occasion to make a few re marks on them, 
 i the chapter on Conception. 
 
 In opposition to what I have here observed on the 
 importance of Dr. Reid's speculations concerning 
 our perceptive powers, I am sensible it may be 
 urged, that they amount merely to a negative dis- 
 covery ; and it is possible, that some may even be 
 forward to remark, that it was unnecessary to em- 
 ploy so much labour and ingenuity as he has done, 
 to overthrow an hypothesis of which a plain account 
 would have been a sufficient refutation. To such 
 persons, I would beg leave to suggest, that, although, 
 in consequence of the juster views in pneumatology, 
 which now begin to prevail, (chiefly, I believe, in
 
 94" ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. L 
 
 consequence of Dr. Reid's writings,) the ideal system 
 mayappear to manyreaders unphilosophical and pue- 
 rile ; yet the case was very different when this author 
 entered upon his inquiries : and I may even venture 
 to add, that few positive discoveries, in the whole 
 history of science, can be mentioned, which found 
 a juster claim to literary reputation, than to have 
 detected, so clearly and unanswerably, the fallacy 
 of an hypothesis, which has descended to us from the 
 earliest ages of philosophy ; and which, in modern 
 times, has not only served to Berkeley and Hume 
 as the basis of their sceptical systems, but was 
 adopted as an indisputable truth by Locke, by 
 Clarke, and by Newton. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of the Origin of our Knowledge. 
 
 THE philosophers who endeavoured to explain the 
 operations of the human mind by the theory of 
 ideas, and who took for granted, that in every 
 exertion of thought there exists in the mind some 
 object distinct from the thinking substance, were 
 naturally led to inquire whence these ideas derive 
 their origin ; in particular, whether they are con- 
 veyed to the mind from without by means of the 
 senses, or form part of its original furniture ? 
 
 With respect to this question, the opinions of 
 the ancients were various j but as the influence of 
 these opinions on the prevailing systems of the 
 present age is not very considerable, it is not ne- 
 cessary, for any of the purposes I have in view in 
 this work to consider them particularly. The mo-
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 95 
 
 derns, too, have been much divided on the subject ; 
 some holding with Des Cartes, that the mind is 
 furnished with certain innate ideas ; others, with 
 Mr. Locke, that all our ideas may be traced from 
 sensation and reflection ; and many, (especially 
 among the later metaphysicians in France,) that 
 they may be all traced from sensation alone. 
 
 Of these theories, that of Mr. Locke deserves more 
 particularly our attention; as it has served as the ba- 
 sis of most of the metaphysical systems which have 
 appeared since his time j and as the difference be- 
 tween it and the theory which derives all our ideas 
 from sensation alone, is rather apparent than real. 
 
 In order to convey a just notion of Mr. Locke's 
 doctrine concerning the origin of our ideas, it is ne- 
 cessary to remark, that he refers to sensation, all the 
 ideas which we are supposed to receive by the ex- 
 ternal senses ; our ideas, for example, of colours, of 
 sounds, of hardness, of extension, of motion j and* 
 in short, of all the qualities and modes of matter $ 
 to reflection, the ideas of our own mental operations 
 which we derive from consciousness ; our ideas, for 
 example, of memory, of imagination, of volition, of 
 pleasure, and of pain. These two sources, accord- 
 ing to him, furnish us with all our simple ideas, 
 and the only power which the mind possesses over 
 them, is to perform certain operations, in the way of 
 composition, abstraction, generalisation, &c. on the 
 materials which it thus collects in the course of its 
 experience. The laudable desire of Mr. Locke, to 
 introduce precision and perspicuity into metaphy- 
 sical speculations, and his anxiety to guard the mind 
 against error in general, naturally prepossessed him
 
 96 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 in favour of a doctrine, which, when compared with 
 those of his predecessors, was intelligible and sim- 
 ple ; and which, by suggesting a method, apparently 
 easy and palpable, of analysing our knowledge into 
 its elementary principles, seemed to furnish an an- 
 tidote against those prejudices which had been fa- 
 voured by the hypothesis of innate ideas. It is now 
 a considerable time since this fundamental principle 
 of Mr. Locke's system began to lose its authority in 
 England ; and the sceptical conclusions, which it had 
 been employed to support by some later writers, fur- 
 nished its opponents with very plausible arguments 
 against it. The late learned Mr. Harris, in particu- 
 lar, frequently mentions this doctrine of Mr. Locke, 
 and always in terms of high indignation. " Mark," 
 (says he, in one passage,) "the order of things, ac- 
 " cording to the account of our later metaphysi- 
 " cians. First, comes that huge body, the sensible 
 " world. Then this, and its attributes beget sen- 
 " sible ideas. Then, out of sensible ideas, by a kind 
 " of lopping and pruning, are made ideas intelligi- 
 " ble, whether specific or general. Thus, should they 
 " admit that mind was coeval with body ; yet, till 
 " the body gave it ideas, and awakened its dormant 
 " powers, it could at best have been nothing more 
 " than a sort of dead capacity ; for innate ideas it 
 " could not possibly have any." And, in another 
 passage. " For my own part, when I read the de- 
 " tail about sensation and reflection and am taught 
 " the process at large how my ideas are all gene- 
 " rated, I seem to view the human soul in the 
 " light of a crucible, where truths are produced by 
 " a kind of logical chemistry."
 
 Sect. 4-. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 97 
 
 If Dr. Reid's reasonings on the subject of ideas 
 be admitted, all these speculations with respect to 
 their origin fall to the ground ; and the question to 
 which they relate is reduced merely to a question of 
 fact ; concerning the occasions on which the mind 
 is first led to form those simple notions into which 
 our thoughts may be analysed, and which may be 
 considered as the principles or elements of human 
 knowledge. With respect to many of these notions, 
 this inquiry involves no difficulty. No one, for ex- 
 ample, can be at a loss to ascertain the occasions on 
 which the notions of colours and sounds are first 
 formed by the mind : for these notions are confined 
 to individuals who are possessed of particular senses, 
 and cannot, by any combination of words, be con. 
 veyed to those who never enjoyed the use of them. 
 The history of our notions of extension and figure^ 
 (which may be suggested to the mind by the exer- 
 cise either of sight or of touch,) is not altogether so 
 obvious j and accordingly it has been the subject of 
 various controversies. To trace the origin of these, 
 and of our other simple notions with respect to the 
 qualities of matter ; or, in other words, to describe 
 the occasions on which, by the laws of our nature, 
 they are suggested to the mind, is one of the leading 
 objects of Dr. Reid's inquiry, in his analysis of our 
 external senses ; in which he carefully avoids every 
 hypothesis with respect to the inexplicable pheno- 
 mena of perception and of thought, and confines 
 himself scrupulously to a literal statement of facts. 
 Similar inquiries to these, may be proposed, con- 
 cerning the occasions on which we form the notions 
 of time, of motion, of number, of causation, and an 
 
 H
 
 
 98 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I. 
 
 infinite variety of others. Thus, it has been ob- 
 served by different authors, that every perception 
 of change suggests to the mind the notion of a, cause, 
 without which that change could not have hap- 
 pened. Dr. Reid remarks, that, without the faculty 
 of memory, our perceptive powers could never have 
 led us to form the idea of motion. I shall after- 
 wards shew, in the sequel of this work, that with- 
 out the same faculty of memory, we never could 
 have formed the notion of time; and that without 
 the faculty of abstraction, we could not have formed 
 
 the notion of number. Such inquiries, with 
 
 respect to the origin of our knowledge, are curious 
 and important ; and if conducted with judgment, 
 they may lead to the most certain conclusions ; as 
 they aim at nothing more than to ascertain facts, 
 which, although not obvious to superficial observers, 
 may yet be discovered by patient investigation. 
 
 From the remarks which have been just made 
 on our notions of time, of motion, and of number, 
 it is evident, that the inquiry concerning the origin 
 of human knowledge cannot possibly be discussed 
 at the commencement of such a work as this ; but 
 that it must be resumed in different parts of it, as 
 those faculties of the mind come under our view, 
 with which the formation of our different simple 
 notions is connected. 
 
 With respect to the general question, Whether all 
 our knowledge may be ultimately traced from our 
 sensations ? I shall only observe at present, that the 
 opinion we form concerning it, is of much less con- 
 sequence than is commonly supposed. That the 
 mind cannot, without the grossest absurdity, be
 
 Sect. 4,. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 9Q 
 
 considered in the light of a receptacle which is 
 gradually furnished from without, by materials in- 
 troduced by the channel of the senses ; nor in that 
 of a tabula rasa, upon which copies or resemblances 
 of things external are imprinted; I have already 
 shewn at sufficient length. Although, therefore, 
 we should acquiesce in the conclusion, that, with- 
 out our organs of sense, the mind must have re- 
 mained destitute of knowledge, this concession 
 could have no tendency whatever to favour the 
 principles of materialism ; as it implies nothing 
 more than that the impressions made on our senses 
 by external objects, furnish the occasions on which 
 the mind, by the laws of its constitution, is led to 
 perceive the qualities of the material world, and to 
 exert all the different modifications of thought of 
 which it is capable. 
 
 From the very slight view of the subject, how- 
 ever, which has been already given, it is sufficiently 
 evident, that this doctrine, which refers the origin 
 of all our knowledge to the occasions furnished by 
 sense, must be received with many limitations. 
 That those ideas, which Mr. Locke calls ideas of 
 reflection, (or, in other words, the notions which 
 we form of the subjects of our own consciousness,) 
 are not suggested to the mind immediately by the 
 sensations arising from the use of our organs of per- 
 ception, is granted on all hands ; and, therefore, 
 the amount of the doctrine now mentioned, is no- 
 thing more than this ; that the first occasions 
 on which our various intellectual faculties are ex- 
 ercised, are furnished by the impressions made on 
 our organs of sense j and consequently, that, with- 
 
 H 2
 
 100 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. 1. 
 
 -out these impressions, it would have been impos- 
 sible for us to arrive at the knowledge of our fa- 
 culties. Agreeably to this explanation of the doc- 
 trine, it may undoubtedly be said with plausibility, 
 (and, I am inclined to believe, with truth,) that 
 the occasions on which all our notions are formed, 
 are furnished either immediately or ultimately by 
 sense ; but, if I am not much mistaken, this is not 
 the meaning which is commonly annexed to the 
 doctrine, either by its advocates or their opponents. 
 One thing at least is obvious, that, in this sense, 
 it does not lead to those consequences which have 
 interested one party of philosophers in its defence, 
 and another in its refutation. 
 
 There is another very important consideration 
 which deserves our attention in this argument : 
 that, even on the supposition that certain impres- 
 sions on our organs of sense are necessary to 
 awaken the mind to a consciousness of its own 
 existence, and to give rise to the exercise of its 
 various faculties ; yet all this might have happened 
 without our having any knowledge of the qualities, 
 or even of the existence, of the material world. To 
 facilitate the admission of this proposition, let us 
 suppose a being formed in every other respect lik,e 
 man; but possessed of no senses, excepting those 
 of hearing and smelling. I make choice of these 
 two senses, because it is obvious, that by means of 
 them alone we never could have arrived at the 
 knowledge of the primary qualities of matter, or 
 -even of the existence of things external. All that 
 we could possibly have inferred from our occasional 
 sensations of smell and sound, would have been that 
 
 tu
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 101 
 
 there existed some unknown cause by which they 
 were produced. 
 
 Let us suppose then a particular sensation to be 
 excited in the mind of such a being. The moment 
 this happens, he must necessarily acquire the know- 
 ledge of two facts at once : that of the existence of 
 the sensation ; and that of his own existence, as a 
 sentient being. After the sensation is at an end, 
 he can remember he felt it j he can conceive that he 
 feels it again. If he has felt a variety of different 
 sensations, he can compare them together in re- 
 spect of the pleasure or the pain they have afforded 
 him ; and will naturally desire the return of the 
 agreeable sensations, and be afraid of the return of 
 those which were painful. If the sensations of smell 
 and sound are both excited in his mind at the same 
 time, he can attend to either of them he chnses, 
 and withdraw his attention from the other ; or he 
 can withdraw his attention from both, and fix it 
 on some sensation he has felt formerly. In this- 
 manner, he might be led, merely by sensations ex- 
 isting in his mind, and conveying to him no inform- 
 ation concerning matter, to exercise many of his 
 most important faculties j and amidst all these dif- 
 ferent modifications and operations of his mind, he 
 would feel, with irresistible conviction, that they all 
 belong to one and the same sentient and intelligent 
 being; or, in other words, that they are all modi- 
 fications and operations of himself. I say nothing, 
 at present, of the various simple notions, (or simple 
 ideas, as they are commonly called,) which would 
 arise in his mind ; for example, the ideas of number, 
 of duration, of cause and effect, of personal identity ; 
 
 H 3 
 
 LfBHAftY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CAT.TFORN
 
 102 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. I, 
 
 all of which, though perfectly unlike his sensations, 
 could not fail to be suggested by means of them. 
 Such a being, then, might know all that we know 
 of mind at present ; and as his language would be 
 appropriated to mind solely, and not borrowed by 
 analogy from material phenomena, he would even 
 possess important advantages over us in conducting 
 the study of pneumatology. 
 
 From these observations it sufficiently appears, 
 what is the real amount of the celebrated doctrine, 
 which refers the origin of all our knowledge to our 
 sensations ; and that, even granting it to be true, 
 (which, for my own part, I am disposed to do, 
 in, the sense in which I have now explained it,) it 
 would by no means follow from it, that our notions 
 of the operations of mind, nor even many of those 
 notions which are commonly suggested to us, in the 
 Jirst instance, by the perception of external objects, 
 are necessarily subsequent to our knowledge of the 
 qualities, or even of the existence, of matter. 
 
 The remarks which I have offered on this doc- 
 trine, will not appear superfluous to those who re- 
 collect that, although it has, for many years past, 
 been a subject of controversy in England, it con- 
 tinues still to be implicitly adopted by the best phi- 
 losophical writers in France ; and that it has been 
 employed by some of them to support the system 
 of materialism ; and by others to shew, that the in- 
 tellectual distinctions between man and brutes, arise 
 entirely from the differences in their animal organi- 
 zation, and in their powers of external perception.
 
 t 
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN. MIND. 103 
 
 CHAPTER SECOND. 
 
 I * 
 
 Of Attention. 
 
 WHEN we are deeply engaged in conversation, or 
 occupied with any speculation that is interesting to 
 the mind, the surrounding objects either do not 
 produce in us the perceptions they are fitted to 
 excite ; or these perceptions are instantly forgotten. 
 A clock, for example, may strike in the same room 
 with us, without our being able, next moment, to 
 recollect whether we heard it or not. 
 
 In these, and similar cases, I believe, it is com- 
 monly taken for granted, that we really do not per- 
 ceive the external object. From some analogous 
 facts, however, I am inclined to suspect that this 
 opinion is not well founded. A -person who falls 
 asleep at church, and is suddenly awaked, is unable 
 to recollect the last words spoken by the preacher; or 
 even to recollect that he was speaking at all. And 
 yet, that sleep does not suspend entirely the powers 
 of perception, may be inferred from this, that if the 
 preacher were to make a sudden pause in his dis- 
 course, every person in the congregation who was 
 asleep, would instantly awake. In this case, there- 
 fore, it appears, that a person may be conscious of 
 a perception without being able afterwards to recol- 
 lect it. 
 
 Many other instances of the same general fact 
 might be produced. When we read a book, (espe- 
 
 H 4
 
 "4 
 
 104 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 cially in a language which is not perfectly familiar 
 to us,) we must perceive successively every dif- 
 ferent letter, and must afterwards combine these 
 letters into syllables and words, before we compre- 
 hend the meaning of a sentence. This process, 
 however, passes through the mind, without leaving 
 any trace in the memory. 
 
 It has been proved by optical writers, that, in per- 
 ceiving the distances of visible objects from the eye, 
 there is a judgment of the understanding antece- 
 dent to the perception. In some cases this judgment 
 is founded on a variety of circumstances combined 
 together; the conformation of the organ necessary 
 for distinct vision ; the inclination of the optic axes; 
 the distinctness or indistinctness of the minute 
 parts of the object ; the distances of the intervening 
 objects from each other, and from the eye; and, per- 
 haps, on other circumstances besides these: and yet, 
 in consequence of our familiarity with such pro- 
 cesses from our earliest infancy, the perception 
 seems to be instantaneous ; and it requires much 
 reasoning, to convince persons unaccustomed to 
 philosophical speculations, that the fact is otherwise. 
 
 Another instance of a still more familiar nature, 
 may be of use for the farther illustration of the same 
 subject. It is well known, that our thoughts do not 
 succeed each other at random, but according to cer- 
 tain laws of association, which modern philosophers 
 have been at much pains to investigate. It fre- 
 quently, however, happens, particularly when the 
 mind is animated by conversation, that it makes a 
 sudden transition from one subject to another, which, 
 at first view, appears to be very remote from it j and
 
 Chap.IL OF THE HUMAN MIND. 105 
 
 that it requires a considerable degree of reflexion, to 
 enable the person himself by whom the transition 
 was made, to ascertain what were the intermediate 
 ideas. A curious instance of such a sudden 
 transition is mentioned by Hobbes in his Leviathan. 
 " In a company," (says he,) " in which the con- 
 " versation turned on the civil war, what could be 
 " conceived more impertinent, than for a person 
 " to ask abruptly, What was the value of a Roman 
 " denarius ? On a little reflexion, however, I was 
 " easily able to trace the train of thought which 
 " suggested the question : for the original subject 
 *' of discour.se naturally introduced the history of 
 " the King, and of the treachery of those who 
 " surrendered his person to his enemies ; this again 
 " introduced the treachery of Judas Iscariot, and 
 " the sum of money which he received for his 
 " reward. And all this train of ideas," says 
 Hobbes, " passed through the mind of the speaker 
 " in a twinkling, in consequence of the velocity 
 " of thought." It is by no means improbable, 
 that if the speaker himself had been interrogated 
 about the connexion of ideas, which led him aside 
 from the original topic of discourse, he would have 
 found himself, at first, at a loss for an answer. 
 
 In the instances which have been last mentioned 
 we have also a proof, that a perception, or an idea, 
 which passes through the mind, without leaving any 
 trace in the memory, may yet serve to introduce 
 other ideas connected with it by the laws of asso- 
 ciation. Other proofs of this important fact shall 
 be mentioned afterwards.
 
 106 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 When a perception or an idea passes through the 
 mind, without our being able to recollect it next 
 moment, the vulgar themselves ascribe our want of 
 memory to a want of attention. Thus, in the in- 
 stance already mentioned, of the clock, a person, 
 upon observing that the minute hand had just 
 passed twelve, would naturally say, that he did not 
 attend to the clock when it was striking. There 
 seems, therefore, to be a certain effort of mind 
 upon which, even in the judgment of the vulgar, 
 memory in some measure depends j and which they 
 distinguish by the name of attention. 
 
 The connexion between attention and memory 
 has been remarked by many authors. " Nee 
 " dubium est," (says Quinctilian, speaking of 
 memory,) " quin plurimum in hac parte valeat 
 " mentis intentio, et velut acies luminum a pro- 
 " spectu rerum quas intuetur non aversa." The 
 same observation has been made by Locke *, and 
 by most of the writers on the subject of education. 
 
 But although the connexion between attention 
 and memory has been frequently remarked in 
 general terms, I do not recollect that the power of 
 attention has been mentioned by any of the writers 
 on pneumatology, in their enumeration of the 
 faculties of the mindt; nor has it been con- 
 
 * " Memory depends much on attention and repetition." 
 Locke's Essay, b. i. chap. x. 
 
 f Some important observations on the subject of attention 
 occur in different parts of Dr. Reid's writings ; particularly in 
 his Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, p. 62. ; and in his 
 Essays on the Active Powers of Man, p. 78, et seq. To this 
 ingenious author we are indebted for the remark, that attention
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 107 
 
 sidered by any one, so far as I know, as of suf- 
 ficient importance to deserve a particular examin- 
 ation. Helvetius, indeed, in his very ingenious 
 work, De I' Esprit, has intitled one of his chapters, 
 De I'inegale capacite d y Attention ; but what he con- 
 siders under this article, is chiefly' that capacity 
 of patient inquiry, (or as he calls it, une attention 
 suivie,} upon which philosophical genius seems in 
 a great measure to depend. He has also re- 
 marked *, with the writers already mentioned, that 
 the impression which any thing makes on the 
 memory, depends much on the degree of attention 
 we give to it j but he has taken no notice of that 
 effort which is absolutely essential to the lowest 
 degree of memory. It is this effort that I propose 
 to consider at present; not those different de- 
 grees of attention which imprint things more or 
 less deeply on the mind, but that act or effort 
 without which we have no recollection or -memory 
 whatever. 
 
 to things external, is properly called observation ; and attention 
 to the subjects of our consciousness, reflection. He has also ex- 
 plained the causes of the peculiar difficulties which accom- 
 pany this last exertion of the mind, and which form the chief 
 obstacles to the progress of pneumatology. I shall have oc- 
 casion, in another part of this work, to treat of habits of inat- 
 tention in general, and to suggest some practical hints with 
 respect to the culture both of the powers of observation and re- 
 flection. The view which I propose to take of attention at 
 present, is extremely limited ; and is intended merely to com- 
 prehend such general principles as are necessary to prepare the 
 reader for the chapters which are to follow. 
 
 * " C'est 1'attention, plus ou moins grande, qui grave plus ou 
 " moins profondment les objets dans la m6moire."
 
 108 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 With respect to the nature of this effort, it is 
 perhaps impossible for us to obtain much satisfac- 
 tion. We often speak of greater and less degrees 
 of attention ; and, I believe, in these cases, con- 
 ceive the mind (if I may use the expression) to 
 exert itself with different degrees of energy. I am 
 doubtful, however, if this expression conveys any 
 distinct meaning. For my own part, I am inclined 
 to suppose, (though I would by no means be under- 
 stood to speak with confidence,) that it is essen- 
 tial to memory, that the perception or the idea 
 that we would wish to remember, should remain in 
 the mind for a certain space of time, and should 
 be contemplated by it exclusively of every thing 
 else ; and that attention consists partly (perhaps 
 entirely) in the effort of the mind, to detain the 
 idea or the perception, and to exclude the other 
 objects that solicit its notice. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the difficulty of ascer- 
 taining, in what this act of the mind consists, every 
 person must be satisfied of its reality from his own 
 consciousness ; and of its essential connexion with 
 the power of memory. I have already mentioned 
 several instances of ideas passing through the mind, 
 without our being able to recollect them next 
 moment. These instances were produced, merely 
 to illustrate the meaning I annex to the word at- 
 tention; and to recall to the recollection of the 
 reader, a few striking cases, in which the possi- 
 bility of our carrying on a process of thought, which 
 we are unable to attend to at the time, or to re- 
 member afterwards, is acknowledged in the re- 
 ceived systems of philosophy. I shall now men-
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 100 
 
 tion some other phenomena, which appear to 
 me to be very similar to these, and to be explicable 
 in the same manner ; although they have commonly 
 been referred to very different principles. 
 
 The wonderful effect of practice in the formation 
 of habits, has been often, and justly taken notice 
 of, as one of the most curious circumstances in the 
 human constitution. A mechanical operation, for 
 example, which we at first performed with the ut- 
 most difficulty, comes, in time, to be so familiar to 
 us, that we are able to perform it without the smallest 
 danger of mistake j even while the attention ap- 
 pears to be completely engaged with other subjects. 
 The truth seems to be, that in consequence of the 
 association of ideas, the different steps of the pro- 
 cess present themselves successively to the thoughts, 
 without any recollection on our part, and with a de- 
 gree of rapidity proportioned to the length of our 
 experience ; so as to save us entirely the trouble of 
 hesitation and reflexion, by giving us every mo- 
 ment a precise and steady notion of the effect to be 
 produced. * 
 
 In the case of some operations which are very fa- 
 miliar to us, we find ourselves unable to attend to, 
 or to recollect, the acts of the will by which they 
 
 * I do not mean by this observation, to call in question the 
 effects which the practice of the mechanical arts has on the 
 muscles of the body. These are as indisputable as its effects on 
 the mind. A man who has been accustomed to write with his 
 right hand, can write better with his left hand, than another who 
 never practised the art at all ; but he cannot write so well with 
 his left hand as with his right. The effects of practice, there- 
 fore, it should seern, are produced partly on the mind, and partly 
 on the body.
 
 110 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 were preceded ; and accordingly, some philosophers 
 of great eminence have called in question the exist- 
 ence of such volitions ; and have represented our 
 habitual actions as involuntary and mechanical. But 
 surely the circumstance of our inability to recollect 
 our volitions, does not authorise us to dispute their 
 possibility ; any more than our inability to attend 
 to the process of the mind^in estimating the distance 
 of an object from the eye, authorises us to affirm 
 that the perception is instantaneous. Nor does it 
 add any force to the objection to urge, that there 
 are instances in which we find it difficult, or perhaps 
 impossible, to check our habitual actions by a con- 
 trary volition. For it must be remembered, that 
 this contrary volition does not remain with us 
 steadily during the whole operation ; but is merely 
 a general intention or resolution, which is banished 
 from the mind, as soon as the occasion presents itself 
 with which the habitual train of our thoughts and 
 volitions is associated.* 
 
 ' 
 
 * The solution of this difficulty, which is given by Dr. Porter- 
 field, is somewhat curious. 
 
 ' Such is the power of custom and habit, that many actions, 
 ' which are no doubt voluntary, and proceed from our mind, are 
 " in certain circumstances rendered necessary, so as to appear 
 " altogether mechanical, and independent of our wills ; but it 
 " does not from thence follow, that our mind is not concerned 
 " in such motions, but only that it has imposed upon itself a law, 
 " whereby it regulates and governs them to the greatest advan- 
 " tage. In all this, there is nothing of intrinsical necessity ; the 
 " mind is at absolute liberty to act as it pleases ; but being a wise 
 * agent, it cannot chuse bul to act in conformity to this law, by 
 " reason of the utility and advantage that arises from this way 
 ' of acting." TREATISE ON THE EYE, vol. ii. p. 17.
 
 Chap. IT. F THE HUMAN MIND. Ill 
 
 Jt may indeed be said, that these observations 
 only prove the possibility that our habitual actions 
 may be voluntary. But if this be admitted, nothing 
 more can well be required : for surely, if these phe- 
 nomena are clearly explicable from the known and 
 acknowledged laws of the human mind, it would be 
 unphilosophical to devise a new principle, on pur- 
 pose to account for them. The doctrine, therefore, 
 which I have laid down with respect to the nature 
 of habits, is by no means founded on hypothesis, 
 as has been objected to me by some of my friends ; 
 but, on the contrary, the charge of hypothesis falls 
 on those who attempt to explain them, by saying 
 that they are mechanical or automatic ; a doctrine 
 which, if it is at all intelligible, must be understood 
 as implying the existence of some law of our con- 
 stitution, which has been hitherto uriobserved by 
 philosophers ; and to which, I believe, it will be dif- 
 ficult to find any thing analogous in our constitution. 
 
 In the foregoing observations, I have had in view 
 a favourite doctrine of Dr. Hartley's ; which has 
 been maintained also of late by a much higher au- 
 thority, I mean Dr. Reid. 
 
 " Habit*" (says this ingenious author) " differs 
 " from instinct, not in its nature, but in its origin j 
 " the last being natural, the first acquired. Both 
 " operate without will or intention, without thought, 
 " and therefore may be called mechanical prin- 
 " ciples." In another passage t, he expresses him- 
 self thus : " I conceive it to be a part of our con- 
 " stitution, that what we have been accustomed to 
 
 * Essays on the Active Powers of Man, p. 128. 
 f Ibid. p. ISO. 

 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 " do, we acquire not only a facility but a proneness 
 " to do on like occasions ; so that it requires a par- 
 " ticular will or effort to forbear it, but to do it re- 
 ' quires, very often, no will at all." 
 
 The same doctrine is laid down still more expli- 
 citly by Dr. Hartley. 
 
 " Suppose," (says he,) " a person who has a per- 
 " fectly voluntary command over his fingers, to be- 
 " gin to learn to play on the harpsichord. The first 
 " step is to move his fingers from key to key, with a 
 " slow motion, looking at the notes, and exerting 
 " an express act of volition in every motion. By 
 " degrees the motions cling to one another, and to 
 " the impressions of the notes, in the way of asso- 
 " ciation, so often mentioned, the acts of volition 
 " growing less and less express all the time, till at 
 " last they become evanescent and imperceptible. 
 " For an expert performer will play from notes, or 
 " ideas laid up in the memory, and at the same time 
 " carry on a quite different train of thoughts in his 
 " mind j or even hold a conversation with another. 
 " Whence we may conclude, that there is no inter- 
 " vention of the idea, or state of mind, called 
 " Will." * Cases of this sort, Hartley calls, " transi- 
 " tions of voluntary actions into automatic ones." 
 
 I cannot help thinking it more philosophical to 
 suppose, that those actions which are originally 
 voluntary, always continue so ; although in tfye case 
 of operations which are become habitual in conse- 
 quence of long practice, we may not be able to re- 
 collect every different volition. Thus, in the case 
 
 * Vol. i. p. 108, 109.
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 118 
 
 of a performer on the harpsichord, I apprehend, 
 that there is an act of the will preceding every mo- 
 tion of every finger, although he may not be able 
 to recollect these volitions afterwards; and although 
 he may, during the time of his performance, be 
 employed in carrying on a separate train of thought. 
 For, it must be remarked, that the most rapid per- 
 former can, when he pleases, play so slowly, as to 
 be able to attend to, and to recollect, every sepa- 
 rate act of his will in the various movements of his 
 fingers j and he can gradually accelerate the rate 
 of his execution, till he is unable to recollect these 
 acts. Now, in this instance, one of two supposi- 
 tions must be made j the one is, that the operations 
 in the two cases are carried on precisely in the 
 same manner, and differ only in the degree of rapi- 
 dity ; and that when this rapidity exceeds a certain 
 rate, the acts of the will are too momentary to leave 
 any impression on the memory. The other is, 
 that when the rapidity exceeds a certain rate, the 
 operation is taken entirely out of our hands ; and is 
 carried on by some unknown power, of the nature 
 of which we are as ignorant, as of the cause of the 
 circulation of the blood, or of the motion of the 
 intestines, * The last supposition seems to me to 
 
 * This seems to have been the opinion of Bishop Berkeley, 
 whose doctrine concerning the nature of our habitual actions, 
 coincides with that of the two philosophers already quoted. 
 *' It must be owned, we are not conscious of the systole and 
 * diastole of the heart, or the motion of the diaphragm, It 
 <c may not, nevertheless, be thence inferred, that unknowing 
 " nature can act regularly as well as ourselves. The true in- 
 
 I
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II, 
 
 be somewhat similar to that of a man who should 
 maintain, that, although a body projected with a 
 moderate velocity, is seen to pass through all the 
 intermediate spaces in moving from one place to 
 another, yet we are not entitled to conclude, that 
 this happens when the body moves so quickly as to 
 become invisible to the eye. The former supposition 
 is supported by the analogy of many other facts in 
 our constitution. Of some of these, I have already 
 taken notice ; and it would be easy to add to the 
 number. An expert accountant, for example, 
 can sum up, almost with a single glance of his eye, 
 a long column of figures. He can tell the sum, 
 with unerring certainty ; while, at the same time, 
 he is unable to recollect any one of the figures of 
 which that sum is composed: and yet nobody 
 doubts, that each of these figures has passed 
 through his mind, or supposes, that when the rapi- 
 dity of the process becomes so great that he is un- 
 able to recollect the various steps of it, he obtains 
 the result by a sort of inspiration. This last suppo- 
 sition would be perfectly analogous to Dr. Hartley's 
 
 " ference is, that the self-thinking individual, or human person, 
 " is not the real author of those natural motions. And, in fact, 
 " no man blames himself, if they are wrong, or values himself, 
 '< if they are right. The same may be said of the fingers of a 
 " musician, which some object to be moved by habit, which 
 " understands not ; it being evident that what is done by rule, 
 " must proceed from something that understands the rule; 
 " therefore, if not from the musician himself, from some other 
 " active intelligence ; the same, perhaps, which governs bees 
 " and spiders, and moves the limbs of those who walk in their 
 " sleep." See a Treatise, entitled, Siris, p. 123. 2d edit
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND, 115 
 
 doctrine concerning the nature of our habitual 
 exertions. 
 
 The only plausible objection which, I think, can 
 be offered to the principles I have endeavoured to 
 establish on this subject, is founded on the asto- 
 nishing, and almost incredible rapidity, they neces- 
 sarily suppose in our intellectual operations. 
 When a person, for example, reads aloud ; there 
 must, according to this doctrine, be a separate vo- 
 lition preceding the articulation of every letter ; 
 and it has been found, by actual trial *, that it is 
 possible to pronounce about two thousand letters 
 in a minute. Is it reasonable to suppose, that the 
 mind is capable of'so many different acts in an in- 
 terval of time so very inconsiderable ? 
 
 With respect to this objection, it may be ob- 
 served, in the first place, that all arguments against 
 the foregoing doctrine with respect to our habitual 
 exertions, in so far as they are founded on the in- 
 conceivable rapidity which they suppose in our in- 
 tellectual operations, apply equally to the common 
 doctrine concerning our perception of distance by 
 the eye. But this is not all. To what does the 
 supposition amount, which is considered as so in- 
 credible ? Only to this, that the mind is so formed, 
 
 * Incredibili velocitate peraguntur et repetuntur musculorutn 
 contractiones. Decent cursus, praesertim quaclrupedum ; vel 
 lingua, qua; quadringinta vocabula, forte bis milJe literas, expri- 
 mit, spatio temporis quod minutum vocare soiemus, quamvis ad 
 multas literas exprimcndas plures musculorum contractiones re- 
 quirantur. 
 
 Conspectus MedtciruB Theoretics, Auct. Jac. Gregory, 
 
 Edit, altera, p. 171. 
 I 2
 
 116 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IT. 
 
 as to be able to carry on certain intellectual pro- 
 cesses, in intervals of time too short to be esti- 
 mated by our faculties ; a supposition which, so 
 far from being extravagant, is supported by the 
 analogy of many of our most certain conclusions in 
 natural philosophy. The discoveries made by the 
 microscope, have laid open to our senses a world 
 of wonders, the existence of which hardly any man 
 would have admitted upon inferior evidence ; and 
 have gradually prepared the way for those physical 
 speculations, which explain some of the most extra- 
 ordinary phenomena of nature, by means of modifi- 
 cations of matter far too subtile for the examination 
 of our organs. Why then should it be considered as 
 unphilosophical, after having demonstrated the ex- 
 istence of various intellectual processes which escape 
 our attention in consequence of their rapidity, to 
 carry the supposition a little farther, in order to 
 bring under the known laws of the human constitu- 
 tion, a class of mental operations, which must other- 
 wise remain perfectly inexplicable? Surely, our 
 ideas of time are merely relative, as well as our ideas 
 of extension ; nor is there any good reason for 
 doubting, that, if our powers of attention and me- 
 mory were more perfect than they are, so as to give 
 us the same advantage in examining rapid events, 
 which the microscope gives for examining minute 
 portions of extension, they would enlarge our 
 views with respect to the intellectual world, no 
 less than that instrument has with respect to the 
 material. 
 
 It may contribute to remove, stiUmorecompletely, 
 some of the scruples which are naturally suggested
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 117 
 
 by the foregoing doctrine, to remark, that, as the 
 great use of attention and memory is to enable us to 
 treasure up the results of our experience and reflexion 
 for the future regulation of our conduct, it would 
 have answered no purpose for the author of our na- 
 ture to have extended their province to those inter- 
 vals of time, which we have no occasion to estimate 
 in the common business of life. All the intellectual 
 processes I have mentioned are subservient to some 
 particular end, either of perception or of action ; 
 and it would have been perfectly superfluous, if 
 after this end were gained, the steps which are in- 
 strumental in bringing it about, were all treasured 
 up in the memory. Such a constitution of our na- 
 ture would have had no other effect but to store the 
 mind with a variety of useless particulars. 
 
 After all 1 have said, it will, perhaps, be still 
 thought, that some of the reasonings I have offered 
 are too hypothetical j and it is even possible, that 
 some may be disposed rather to dispute the com- 
 mon theory of vision, than admit the conclusions I 
 have endeavoured to establish. To such readers 
 the following considerations may be of use, as they 
 afford a more palpable instance, than any I have 
 yet mentioned, of the rapidity with which the 
 thoughts may be trained by practice, to shift from 
 one thing to another. 
 
 When an equilibrist balances a rod upon his finger, 
 not only the attention of his mind, but the observ- 
 ation of his eye, is constantly requisite. It is evi- 
 dent that the part of his body which supports the 
 object is never wholly at rest j otherwise the object 
 would no more stand upon it, than if placed in the 
 
 i 3
 
 118 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. 11, 
 
 same position upon a table. The equilibrist, there- 
 fore, must watch, in the very beginning, every in- 
 clination of the object from the proper position, 
 in order to counteract this inclination by a con- 
 trary movement. In this manner, the object has 
 never time to fall in any one direction, and is sup- 
 ported in a way somewhat analogous to that in 
 which a top is supported on a pivot, by being made 
 to spin upon an axis. That a person should be 
 able to do this in the case of a single object, is cu- 
 rious ; but that he should be able to balance in the 
 same way, two, or tbree, upon different parts of his 
 body, and at the same time balance himself on a 
 small cord or wire, is indeed wonderful. Nor is it 
 possible to conceive that, in such an instance, the 
 mind, at one and the same moment, attends to these 
 different equilibriums ; for it is not merely the at- 
 tention which is requisite, but the eye. We must 
 therefore conclude, that both of these are directed 
 successively to the different equilibriums, but 
 change from one object to another with such velo- 
 city, that the effect, with respect to the experiment, 
 is the same as if they were directed to all the objects 
 constantly. 
 
 It is worth while to remark farther, with respect to 
 this last illustration, that it affords direct evidence of 
 the possibility of our exerting acts of the will, which 
 we are unable to recollect ; for the movements of the 
 equilibrist do not succeed each other in a regular or- 
 der, like those of the harpsichord player, in perform- 
 ing a piece of music ; but must in every instance be 
 regulated by accidents, which may vary in number- 
 less respects, and which indeed must vary in num- 
 
 10
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 119 
 
 berless respects, every time he repeats the experi- 
 ment : and therefore, although, in the former case, 
 we should suppose, with Hartley, * e that the motions 
 " cling to one another, and to the impressions of 
 " the notes, in the way of association, without any 
 " intervention of the state of mind called will," yet, 
 in this instance, even the possibility of such a sup- 
 position is directly contradicted by the fact. 
 
 The dexterity of jugglers (which, by the way, 
 merits a greater degree of attention from philoso- 
 phers, than it has yet attracted) affords many curious 
 illustrations of the same doctrine. The whole of 
 this art seems to me to be founded on this principle ; 
 that it is possible for a person, by long practice, to 
 acquire a power, not only of carrying on certain 
 intellectual processes more quickly than other men, 
 (for all the feats of legerdemain suppose the exercise 
 of observation, thought, and volition,) but of per- 
 forming a variety of movements with the hand, 
 before the eyes of a company, in an interval of time 
 too short to enable the spectators to exert that de- 
 gree of attention which is necessary to lay a found- 
 ation for memory. * 
 
 As some philosophers have disputed the influence 
 of the will in the case of habits, so others (particu- 
 larly Stahl and his followers) have gone into the op- 
 posite extreme, by referring to the will all the vital 
 motions. If it be admitted, (say these philosophers,) 
 that there are instances in which we will an effect, 
 without being able to make it an object of attention, 
 is it not possible that^what we commonly call the 
 
 * See Note [E]. 
 i 4
 
 120 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 vital and involuntary motions, may be the conse- 
 quences of our own thought and volition ? But 
 there is surely a wide difference between those cases, 
 in which the mind was at first conscious of thought 
 
 o 
 
 and volition, and gradually lost the power of attend- 
 ing to them, from the growing rapidity of the in- 
 tellectual process; and a case in which the effect 
 itself is perfectly unknown to the bulk of mankind, 
 even after they arrive at maturity, and in which 
 this effect has continued to take place with the most 
 perfect regularity, from the very beginning of their 
 animal existence, and long before the first dawn of 
 either reflexion or experience. 
 
 Some of the followers of Stahl have stated the 
 fact rather inaccurately, even with respect to our 
 habitual exertions. Thus Dr. Porterfield, in his 
 Treatise on the Eye, is at pains to prove, that the 
 soul may think and will without knowledge or con- 
 sciousness. But this, I own, is to me inconceiv- 
 able. The true state of the fact, I apprehend, is, 
 that the mind may think and will, without attend- 
 ing to its thoughts and volitions, so as to be able 
 afterwards to recollect them. Nor is this merely a 
 verbal criticism ; for there is an important differ- 
 ence between consciousness and attention, which it 
 is very necessary to keep in view, in order to think 
 upon this subject with any degree of precision. *The 
 
 * The distinction between attention and consciousness is 
 pointed out by Dr. Reid, in his Essays on the Intellectual Powers 
 of Man, p. 60. " Attention is a voluntary act ; it requires an 
 " active exertion to begin and to continue it; and it may be con- 
 " tinued as long as we will ; but consciousness is involuntary, 
 " and of no continuance, changing with every thought." The
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 121 
 
 one is an involuntary state of the mind ; the other 
 is a voluntary act: the one has no immediate 
 connexion with memory; but the other is so 
 essentially subservient to it, that, without some 
 degree of it, the ideas and perceptions which pass 
 through the mind, seem to leave no trace behind 
 them. 
 
 When two persons are speaking to us at once, we 
 can attend to either of them at pleasure, without 
 being much disturbed by the other. If we attempt 
 to listen to both, we can understand neither. The 
 fact seems to be, that when we attended constantly 
 to one of the speakers, the words spoken by the 
 other make no impression on the memory, in con- 
 sequence of our not attending to them ; and affect 
 us as little as if they had not been uttered. This 
 power, however, of the mind to attend to either 
 speaker at pleasure, supposes that it is, at one and 
 the same time, conscious of the sensations which 
 both produce. 
 
 Another well-known fact may be of use in illus- 
 trating the same distinction. A person who acci- 
 dentally loses his sight, never fails to improve gra- 
 dually in the sensibility of his touch. Now, there 
 are only two ways of explaining this. The one is, 
 that, in consequence of the loss of the one sense, 
 some change takes place in the physical constitution 
 of the body, so as to improve a different organ of 
 perception. The other, that the mind gradually ac- 
 quires a power of attending to and remembering 
 
 same author has remarked, that these two operations of the 
 mind have been frequently confounded by philosophers, and 
 particularly by Mr. Locke.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 those slighter sensations of which it was formerly 
 conscious, but which, from our habits of inatten- 
 tion, made no impression whatever on the memory. 
 No one, surely, can hesitate for a moment, in pro- 
 nouncing which of these two suppositions is the 
 more philosophical. 
 
 Having treated, at considerable length, of those 
 habits in which both mind and body are concerned, 
 I proceed to make a few remarks on some pheno- 
 mena which are purely intellectual ; and which, I 
 think, are explicable on the same principles with 
 those which have been now under our review. 
 
 Every person who has studied the elements of geo- 
 metry, must have observed many cases in which the 
 truth of a theorem struck him the moment he heard 
 the enunciation. I do not allude to those theorems 
 the truth of which is obvious almost to sense ; such 
 as, that any two sides of a triangle are greater than 
 the third side ; or that one circle cannot cut another 
 circle in more than two points ; but to some proposi- 
 tions with respect to quantity, considered abstractly, 
 (to some, for example, in the fifth book of Euclid,) 
 which almost every student would be ready to admit 
 without a demonstration. These propositions, how- 
 ever, do by no means belong to the class of axioms j 
 for their evidence does not strike every person 
 equally, but requires a certain degree of quickness 
 to perceive it. At the same time, it frequently hap- 
 pens, that, although we are convinced the proposi- 
 tion is true, we cannot state immediately to others 
 upon what our conviction is founded. In such cases, 
 I think it highly probable, that before we give our
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 123 
 
 assent to the theorem, a process of thought * has 
 passed through the mind, but has passed through it 
 so quickly, that we cannot, without difficulty, arrest 
 our ideas in their rapid succession, and state them 
 to others in their proper and logical order. It is 
 some confirmation of this theory, that there are no 
 propositions of which it is more difficult to give a 
 legitimate proof from first principles, than of those 
 which are only removed a few steps from the class 
 of axioms j and that those men who are the most re- 
 markable for their quick perception of mathematical 
 truth, are seldom clear and methodical in communi- 
 cating their knowledge to others. A man of a mo- 
 derate degree of quickness, the very first time he is 
 made acquainted with the fundamental principles of 
 the method of fluxions, or of the method of prime 
 and ultimate ratios, is almost instantaneously satis- 
 fied of their truth ; yet how difficult is it to demon- 
 strate these principles rigorously ! 
 
 What I have now said with respect to mathema- 
 tics, may be applied in a great measure to the other 
 branches of knowledge. How many questions daily 
 occur to us, in morals, in politics, and in common 
 life; in considering which, we almost instantaneous- 
 ly see where the truth lies, although we are not in a 
 condition, all at once, to explain the grounds of our 
 conviction ! Indeed, I apprehend, there are few, even 
 among those who have devoted themselves to study, 
 
 * Of the nature of these processes of thought, I shall treat 
 fully in another part of my work, under the article of Reason- 
 ing. I have expressed myself concerning them in this chapter, 
 in as general terms as possible.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IL 
 
 but who have not been habituated to communicate 
 their knowledge to others, who are able to exhibit, 
 in their natural order, the different steps of any in- 
 vestigation by which they have been led to form a 
 particular conclusion. The common observation, 
 therefore, that an obscure elocution always indicates 
 an imperfect knowledge of the subject ; although it 
 may perhaps be true with respect to men who have 
 cultivated the art of speaking, is by no means to be 
 relied on as a general rule, in judging of the talents 
 of those whose speculations have been carried on 
 with a view merely to their own private satisfaction. 
 
 In the course of my own experience, I have heard 
 of more than one instance, of men who, without 
 any mathematical education, were able, on a little re- 
 flexion, to give a solution of any simple algebraical 
 problem ; and who, at the same time, were perfectly 
 incapable of explaining by what steps they obtained 
 the result. In these cases we have a direct proof 
 of the possibility of investigating even truths which 
 are pretty remote, by an intellectual process, which, 
 as soon as it is finished, vanishes almost entirely 
 from the memory. It is probable, that something 
 of the same kind takes place much more frequently 
 in the other branches of knowledge, in which our 
 reasonings consist commonly but of a few steps. 
 Indeed, I am inclined to think, that it is in this 
 way that by far the greater part of our speculative 
 conclusions are formed. 
 
 There is no talent, I apprehend, so essential to a 
 public speaker, as to be able to state clearly every 
 different step of those trains of thought by which he 
 himself was led to the conclusions he wishes to esta-
 
 -uK 1 ' ' 
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 125 
 
 blish. Much may be here done by study and ex- 
 perience. Even in those cases in which the truth 
 of a proposition seems to strike us instantaneously, 
 although we may not be able, at first, to discover 
 the media of proof, we seldom fail in the discovery 
 by perseverance. Nothing contributes so much 
 to form this talent as the study of metaphysics ; not 
 the absurd metaphysics of the schools, but that 
 study which has the operations of the mind for its 
 object. By habituating us to reflect on the sub- 
 jects of our consciousness, it enables us to retard, in 
 a considerable degree, the current of thought ; to 
 arrest many of those ideas, which would otherwise 
 escape our notice ; and to render the arguments 
 which we employ for the conviction of others, an 
 exact transcript of those trains of inquiry and rea- 
 soning, which originally led us to form our opinions. 
 These observations lead me to take notice of an 
 important distinction between the intellectual habits 
 of men of speculation and of action. The latter, 
 who are under a necessity of thinking and deciding 
 on the spur of the occasion, are led to cultivate, as 
 much as possible, a quickness in their mental oper- 
 ations ; and sometimes acquire it in so great a de- 
 gree, that their judgments seem to be almost in- 
 tuitive. To those, on the other hand, who have 
 not merely to form opinions for themselves, but to 
 communicate them to others, it is necessary to re- 
 tard the train of thought as it passes in the mind, 
 so as to be able afterwards to recollect every dif- 
 ferent step of the process ; a habit, which, in some 
 cases, has such an influence on the intellectual 
 powers, that there are men, who, even in their private 
 
 12
 
 126 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY [Chap. II. 
 
 speculations, not only make use of words as an in- 
 strument of thought, but form these words into 
 regular sentences. 
 
 It may perhaps appear, at first, a paradoxical ob- 
 servation, that one great employment of philoso- 
 phers, in a refined age, is to bring to light, and ar- 
 range, those rapid and confused trains of thought, 
 which appear from the structure of languages, and 
 from the monuments of ancient laws and govern- 
 ments, to have passed through the minds of men in 
 the most remote and unenlightened periods. In 
 proof, however, of this, it is sufficient to mention, 
 the systematical analogy which we find, to a cer- 
 tain degree, running through the structure of the 
 most imperfect tongues, (for example, in the form- 
 ation of the different parts of the verbs,) and those 
 general principles, which the philosophical lawyer 
 traces amidst an apparent chaos of precedents and 
 statutes. In the language, too, of the rudest tribe, 
 we find words transferred from one subject to 
 another, which indicate, in the mind of the individual 
 who first made the transference, some perception of 
 resemblance or of analogy. Such transferences can 
 hardly be ascribed to accident, but may be con- 
 sidered as proofs that the analogies which the phi- 
 losopher afterwards points out between the objects 
 which are distinguished by the same name, had been 
 perceived by the inventors of language, although it 
 is more than probable that they never expressed them 
 in words, nor could even have explained them if 
 they had been questioned on the subject. 
 
 Nor will this appear a bold or incredible supposi- 
 tion, if we reflect on the sagacity and ingenuity which
 
 Chap. II. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 127 
 
 savages, and even peasants, discover, in overcoming 
 the difficulties which occur in their situation. They 
 do not, indeed, engage in long processes of abstract 
 reasoning, for which they have no inclination, and 
 which it is impossible to carry on without the use of 
 a cultivated and a copious language ; but, when 
 pressed by present circumstances, they combine 
 means to accomplish particular ends, in a manner 
 which indicates the exercise both of invention and 
 of reasoning. It is probable that such processes are 
 carried on in their minds, with much less assistance 
 from language, than a philosopher would derive on 
 a similar occasion ; and it is almost certain, that they 
 would find themselves perfectly capable of commu- 
 nicating to others the steps by which they were led 
 to their conclusions. In consequence of these cir- 
 cumstances, the attainments of the human mind, in 
 its ruder state, perish with the individual, without 
 being recorded in writing, or perhaps expressed in 
 words ; and we are left to infer them indirectly from 
 the structure of language, or from the monuments 
 of ancient customs and institutions. 
 
 When a train of thought leads to any interesting 
 conclusion, or excites any pleasant feeling, it be- 
 comes peculiarly difficult to arrest our fleeting ideas; 
 because the mind, when once it has felt the pleasure, 
 has little inclination to retrace the steps by which it 
 arrived at it. This is one great cause of the difficulty 
 attending philosophical criticism. When a critic ex- 
 plains to us, why we are pleased with any particular 
 beauty, or offended with any defect, it is evident, 
 that if his theory be just, 'the circumstances which 
 he points out as the foundation of our pleasure or un-
 
 128 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 easiness, must have occurred to our minds before 
 we were pleased with the beauty, or offended with 
 the defect. In such cases, it sometimes happens, 
 when a critic has been fortunate in his theory, that 
 we recognize at first sight our old ideas, and, with- 
 out any farther consideration, are ready to bear tes- 
 timony to the truth, from our own consciousness. 
 So very difficult, however, is it to attend to the ideas 
 which excite such feelings, that it often appears to 
 be doubtful, whether a theory be right or wrong ; 
 and that where there is every reason to believe that 
 the pleasure is produced in all men in the same way, 
 different critics adopt different theories with respect 
 to its cause. It is long practice alone, joined to 
 what is commonly called a metaphysical turn of 
 mind, (by which I think is chiefly to be understood, 
 a capacity of reflecting on the subjects of our con- 
 sciousness,) that can render such efforts of attention 
 easy. Exquisite sensibility, so far from being useful 
 in this species of criticism, both gives a disrelish for 
 the study, and disqualifies for pursuinglt. 
 
 Before we leave the subject of attention, it is pro- 
 per to take notice of a question which has been 
 stated with respect to it ; whether we have the 
 power of attending to more than one thing at one 
 and the same instant ; or, in other words, whether 
 we can attend at one and the same instant, to ob- 
 jects which we can attend to separately?* This 
 question has,, if I am not mistaken, been already de- 
 cided by several philosophers in the negative ; and 
 I acknowledge, for my own part, that although 
 
 * I have added this explanation to obviate the question, what 
 is meant by one object?
 
 Chap. If. Oli> THE HUMAN MIND. 129 
 
 their opinion has not only been called in question 
 by others, but even treated with some degree of 
 contempt as altogether hypothetical, it appears to 
 me to be the most reasonable and philosophical that 
 we can form on the subject. 
 
 There is indeed a great variety of cases, in which 
 the mind apparently exerts different acts of atten- 
 tion at once ; but from the instances which have 
 already been mentioned, of the astonishing rapidity 
 of thought, it is obvious, that all this may be ex- 
 plained, without supposing these acts to be co- 
 existent ; and I may even venture to add, it may 
 all be explained in the most satisfactory manner, 
 without ascribing to our intellectual operations, a 
 greater degree of rapidity than that with which we 
 know from the fact that they are sometimes carried 
 on. The effect of practice in increasing this 
 capacity of apparently attending to different 
 things at once, renders this explanation of the 
 phenomenon in question, more probable than any 
 other. 
 
 The case of the equilibrist and rope-dancer 
 already mentioned, is particularly favourable to this 
 explanation ; as it affords direct evidence of the 
 possibility of the mind's exerting different succes- 
 sive acts in an interval of time so short, as to 
 produce the same sensible effect, as if they had 
 been exerted at one and the same moment. In 
 this case, indeed, the rapidity of thought is so 
 remarkable, that if the different acts of the mind 
 were not all necessarily accompanied with different 
 movements of the eye, there can be no reason for 
 doubting, that the philosophers, whose doctrine I
 
 ] 30 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 am now controverting, would have asserted, that 
 they are all mathematically co-existent. 
 
 Upon a question, however, of this sort, which does 
 not admit of a perfectly direct appeal to the fact, 
 I would by no means be understood to decide with 
 confidence ; and therefore I should wish the con- 
 clusions I am now to state, to be received as only 
 conditionally established. They are necessary and 
 obvious consequences of the general principle, 
 " that the mind can only attend to one thing at 
 " once ;" but must stand or fall with the truth of 
 that supposition. 
 
 It is commonly understood, I believe, that, in a 
 concert of music, a good ear can attend to the dif- 
 ferent parts of the music separately, or can attend 
 to them all at once, and feel the full effect of the 
 harmony. If the doctrine, however, which I have 
 endeavoured to establish, be admitted, it will fol- 
 low, that, in the latter case, the mind is constantly 
 varying its attention from the one part of the 
 'music to the other, and that its operations are so 
 rapid, as to give us no perception of an interval of 
 time. 
 
 The same doctrine leads to some curious con- 
 clusions with respect to vision. Suppose the eye 
 to be fixed in a particular position, and the picture 
 of an object to be painted on the retina. Does the 
 mind perceive the complete figure of the object at 
 once, or is this perception the result of the various 
 perceptions we have of the different points in the 
 outline ? With respect to this question, the prin- 
 ciples already stated lead me to conclude, that the 
 mind does at one and the same time perceive every
 
 Chap. IT. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 point in the outline of the object, (provided the 
 whole of it be painted on the retina at the same 
 instant,) for perception, like consciousness, is an 
 involuntary operation. As no two points, how- 
 ever,~of the outline are in the same direction, every 
 point, by itself, constitutes just as distinct an object 
 of attention to the mind, as if it were separated by 
 an interval of empty space from all the rest. If the 
 doctrine therefore formerly stated be just, it is im- 
 possible for the mind to attend to more than one 
 of these points at once ; and as the perception of 
 the figure of the object, implies a knowledge of the 
 relative situation of the different points with respect 
 to each other, We must conclude, that the percep- 
 tion of figure by the eye, is the result of a number 
 of different acts of attention. These acts of atten- 
 tion, however, are performed with such rapidity, 
 that the effect, with respect to us, is the same as if 
 the perception were instantaneous. 
 
 In farther confirmation of this reasoning, it may 
 be remarked, that if the perception of visible figure 
 were an immediate consequence of the picture on 
 the retina, we should have, at the first glance, as dis- 
 tinct an idea of a figure of a thousand sides, as of a 
 triangle or a square. The truth is, that when the 
 figure is very simple, the process of the mind is so 
 rapid, that the perception seems to be instantane- 
 ous; but when the sides are multiplied beyond 
 a certain number, the interval of time necessary 
 for these different acts of attention becomes per- 
 ceptible. 
 
 It "may perhaps be asked, what I mean by a point 
 in the outline of a figure, and what it is that con- 
 ic 2
 
 132 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. II. 
 
 stitutes this point one object of attention? The 
 answer, I apprehend, is, that this point is the mini- 
 mum visibik. If the point be less, we cannot per- 
 ceive it : if it be greater, it is not all seen in one 
 direction. 
 
 If these observations be admitted, it will follow, 
 that, without the faculty of memory, we could have 
 had no perception of visible figure.
 
 Chap. III. OF THE H UMAN MIND* 133 
 
 CHAPTER THIRD. 
 Of Conception. 
 
 BY Conception* I mean that power of the mind, 
 which enables it to form a notion of an absent ob- 
 ject of perception ; or of a sensation which it has 
 formerly felt. I do not contend that this is exclu- 
 sively the proper meaning of the word, but I think 
 that the faculty which I have now defined, deserves 
 to be distinguished by an appropriated name. 
 
 Conception is often confounded with other pow- 
 ers. When a painter makes a picture of a friend, 
 who is absent or dead, he is commonly said to paint 
 from memory : and the expression is sufficiently 
 correct for Common conversation. But in an ana- 
 lysis of the mind, there is ground for a distinction. 
 The power of conception enables him to make the 
 features of his friend an object of thought, so as to 
 copy the resemblance j the power of memory re- 
 cognises these features as a former object of per- 
 ception. Every act of memory includes an idea 
 of the past j conception implies no idea of time 
 whatever. * 
 
 * Shakespeare calls this power " the mind's eye." 
 
 Hamlet. My father ! Methinks I see my father, 
 Horatio. ' Where, my Lord ? 
 Hamlet. "In my mind's eye, Horatio." 
 
 Act i. Scene 4>. 
 K 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 According to this view of the matter, the word 
 conception corresponds to what is called by the 
 school-men simple apprehension ; with this difference 
 only, that they included, under this name, our ap- 
 prehension of general propositions; whereas I should 
 wish to limit the application of the word conception 
 to our sensations, and the objects of our perceptions. 
 Dr. Reid, in his Inquiry, substitutes the word con- 
 ception instead of the simple apprehension of the 
 schools, and employs it in the same extensive signi- 
 fication. I think it may contribute to make our 
 ideas more distinct, to restrict its meaning: and 
 for such a restriction, we have the authority of phi- 
 losophers in a case perfectly analogous. - In ordi- 
 nary language, we apply the same word perception, 
 to the knowledge which we have by our senses of 
 external objects, and to our knowledge of specu- 
 lative truth : and yet an author would be justly 
 censured, who should treat of these two operations 
 of the mind under the same article of perception. 
 1 apprehend there is as wide a difference between 
 the conception of a truth, and the conception of 
 an absent object of sense, as between the percep- 
 tion of a tree, and the perception of a mathema- 
 tical theorem. I have therefore taken the liberty 
 to distinguish also the two former operations of the 
 mind: and under the article of conception^ shall 
 confine myself to that faculty whose province it is 
 to enable us to form a notion of our past sensations, 
 or of the objects of sense that we have formerly 
 perceived. 
 
 Conception is frequently used as synonymous 
 with imagination. Dr. Reid says, that "imagination,
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 185 
 
 " in its proper sense, signifies a lively conception of 
 " objects of sight." " This is a talent" (he remarks) 
 " of importance to poets and orators; and deserves 
 " a proper name, on account of its connexion with 
 " their arts." He adds, that " imagination is dis- 
 " tinguished from conception, as a part from a 
 " whole." 
 
 I shall not inquire, at present, into the proper 
 English meaning of the words conception and imagi- 
 nation. In a study such as this, so far removed from 
 the common purposes of speech, some latitude may 
 perhaps be allowed in the use of words ; provided 
 only we define accurately those we employ, and ad- 
 here to our own definitions. 
 
 The business of conception, according to the ac- 
 count I have given of it, is to present us with an 
 exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived. 
 But we have, moreover, a power of modifying our 
 conceptions, by combining the parts of different 
 ones together, so as to form new wholes of our own 
 creation. I shall employ the word imagination to 
 express this power ; and, I apprehend, that this is 
 the proper sense of the word j if imagination be 
 the power which gives birth to the productions of 
 the poet and the painter. This is not a simple fa- 
 culty of the mind. It presupposes abstraction, to 
 separate from each other qualities and circumstances 
 which have been perceived in conjunction ; and 
 also judgment and taste to direct us in forming the 
 combinations. If they are made wholly at random, 
 they are proofs of insanity. * 
 
 * In common discourse, we often use the phrase of thinking 
 upon an object,, to express what I here call, thg conception of it. 
 
 K 4
 
 130 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 The first remarkable fact which strikes us with re- 
 spect to conception is, that we can conceive the ob- 
 jects of some senses much more easily than those of 
 others. Thus we can conceive an absent visible 
 object, such as a building that is familiar to us, much 
 more easily than a particular sound, a particular 
 taste, or a particular pain, which we have formerly 
 felt. It is probable, however, that this power might 
 be improved in the case of some of our senses. 
 Few people, I believe, are able to form a very dis- 
 tinct conception of sounds j and yet it is certain, 
 that, by practice, a person may acquire a power of 
 amusing himself with reading written music. And 
 in the case of poetical numbers, it is universally 
 known, that a reader may enjoy the harmony of 
 the verse, without articulating the words, even in 
 a whisper. In such cases, I take for granted, that 
 our pleasure arises from a very strong conception 
 of the sounds which we have been accustomed to 
 associate with particular written characters. 
 
 The peculiarity in the case of visible objects, seems 
 
 In the following passage, Shakespeare uses the former of 
 
 these phrases, and the words imagination and apprehension as 
 jgynonvmous with each other. 
 
 Who can hold a fire in his hand, 
 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
 By bare imagination of a feast ? 
 Or wallow naked in December's snow, 
 By thinking on fantastic summer's heat ? 
 Oh no ! the apprehension of the good 
 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. 
 
 K. RICHARD II. Act i. Scene 6.
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 137 
 
 to arise from this ; that when we think of a sound or 
 of a taste, the object of our conception is one single 
 detached sensation j whereas every visible object is 
 complex ; and the conception which we form of it as 
 a whole, is aided by the association of ideas. To 
 perceive the force of this observation, it is necessary 
 to recollect what was formerly said on the subject of 
 attention. As we cannot at one instant attend to 
 everypoint of the picture of an object on the retina, 
 so, I apprehend, we cannot at one instant form a 
 conception of the whole of any visible object ; but 
 that our conception of the object as a whole, is the 
 result of many conceptions. The association of ideas 
 connects the different parts together, and presents 
 them to the mind in their proper arrangement ; and 
 the various relations which these parts bear to one 
 another in point of situation, contribute greatly to 
 strengthen the associations. It is some confirmation 
 of this theory, that it is more easy to remember a 
 succession of sounds, than any particular sound 
 which we have heard detached and unconnected. 
 
 The power of conceiving visible objects, like all 
 other powers that depend on the association of ideas, 
 may be wonderfully improved by habit. A person 
 accustomed to drawing, retains a much more per- 
 fect notion of a building or of a landscape which he 
 has seen, than one who has never practised that art. 
 A portrait painter traces the form of the human 
 body from memory, with as little exertion of atten- 
 tion, as he employs in writing the letters which 
 compose his name. 
 
 In the power of conceiving colours, too, there 
 are striking differences among individuals : and, in-
 
 138 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 deed, I am inclined to suspect, that, in the greater 
 number of instances, the supposed defects of sight in 
 this respect, ought to be ascribed rather to a defect 
 in the power of conception. One thing is certain, 
 that we often see men who are perfectly sensible of 
 the difference between two colours when they are 
 presented to them, who cannot give names to these 
 colours, with confidence, when they see them apart ; 
 and are perhaps apt to confound the one with the 
 other. Such men, it should seem, feel the sensation 
 of colour like other men, when the object is present, 
 but are incapable (probably in consequence of some 
 early habit of inattention) to conceive the sensation 
 distinctly when the object is removed. Without 
 this power of conception, it is evidently impossible 
 for them, however lively their sensations may be, 
 to give a name to any colour ; for the application 
 of the name supposes not only a capacity of re- 
 ceiving the sensation, but a power of comparing it 
 with one formerly felt. At the same time, I would 
 not be understood by these observations to deny, 
 that there are cases, in which there is a natural de- 
 fect of the organ in the perception of colour. In 
 some cases, perhaps, the sensation is not felt at 
 all ; and in others, the faintness of the sensation 
 may be one cause of those habits of inattention, 
 from which the incapacity of conception has 
 arisen. 
 
 A talent for lively description, at least in the case 
 of sensible objects, depends chiefly on the degree 
 in which the dcscriber possesses the power of con- 
 ception. We may remark, even in common con- 
 versation, a striking difference among individuals in
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 139 
 
 this respect. One man, in attempting to convey 
 t \ notion of any object he has seen, seems to place it 
 before him, and to paint from actual perception : 
 another, although not deficient in a ready elocution, 
 finds himself in such a situation confused and em- 
 barrassed among a number of particulars imperfectly 
 apprehended, which crowd into his mind without any 
 just order and connexion. Nor is it merely to the 
 accuracy of our descriptions that this power is sub- 
 servient : it contributes more than any thing else to 
 render them striking and expressive to others, by 
 guiding us to a selection of such circumstance? 
 as are most prominent and characteristical ; inso- 
 much that I think it may reasonably be doubted, if 
 a person would not write a happier description of an 
 object from the conception than from the actual per- 
 ception of it. It has been often remarked, that the 
 perfection of description does not consist in a mi- 
 nute specification of circumstances, but in a judicious 
 selection of them ; and that the best rule for making 
 the selection is, to attend to the particulars that make 
 the deepest impression on our own minds. When the 
 object is actually before us, it is extremely difficult 
 to compare the impressions which different circum- 
 stances produce ; and the very thought of writing 
 a description, would prevent the impressions which 
 would otherwise take place. When we afterwards 
 conceive the object, the representation of it we form 
 to ourselves, however lively, is merely an outline ; 
 and is made up of those circumstances, which really 
 struck us most at the moment ; while others of less 
 importance are obliterated. The impression, in- 
 deed, which a circumstance makes on the mind,
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. Ill, 
 
 will vary considerably with the degree of a person's 
 taste ; but I am inclined to think, that a man of 
 lively conceptions, who paints from these, while his 
 mind is yet warm from the original scene, can 
 hardly fail to succeed in descriptive composition. 
 
 The facts and observations which I have now men- 
 tioned, are applicable to conception, as distinguished 
 from imagination. The two powers, however, are 
 very nearly allied ; and are frequently so blended, 
 that it is difficult to say, to which of the two, some 
 particular operations of the mind are to be referred. 
 There are also many general facts which hold equally 
 with respect to both. The observations which fol- 
 low, if they are well founded, are of this number, 
 and might have been introduced with equal pro- 
 priety under either article. I mention them here, as 
 I shall have occasion to refer to them in the course 
 of the following work, in treating of some subjects, 
 which will naturally occur to our examination, be- 
 fore we have another opportunity of considering 
 this part of our constitution. 
 
 It is a common, I believe I may say an universal, 
 doctrine among logicians, that conception (or ima- 
 gination, which is often used as synonymous with it) 
 is attended with no belief of the existence of its 
 object. " Perception," says Dr. Reid, "is attended 
 " with a belief of the present existence of its object ; 
 " memory, with a belief of its past existence j 
 " but imagination is attended with no belief at all ; 
 " and was therefore called by the school-men, ap- 
 " prehensio simplex" 
 
 It is with great diffidence, that I presume to call in 
 question a principle, which has been so generally re-
 
 Chap. III. F THE HUMAN MIND. 141 
 
 ceived; yet there are several circumstances which lead 
 me to doubt of it. If it were a specifical distinction 
 between perception and imagination, that the former 
 is always attended with belief^ and the latter with 
 none ; then the more lively our imagination were of 
 any object, and the more completely that object oc- 
 cupied the attention, the less would we be apt to 
 believe its existence : for it is reasonable to think, 
 that when any of our powers is employed separately 
 from the rest, and there is nothing to withdraw the 
 attention from it, the laws which regulate its opera- 
 tion will be most obvious to our observation, and will 
 be most completely discriminated from those which 
 are characteristical of the other powers of the mind. 
 So very different however is the fact, that it is 
 matter of common remark, that when imagination 
 is very lively, we are apt to ascribe to its objects a 
 real existence, as in the case of dreaming or of mad- 
 ness j and we may add, in the case of those who, 
 in spite of their own general belief of the absurdity 
 of the vulgar stories of apparitions, dare not trust 
 themselves alone with their own imaginations in the 
 dark. That imagination is in these instances at- 
 tended with belief, we have all the evidence that the 
 nature of the thing admits of; for we feel and act 
 in the same manner as we should do, if we believed 
 that the objects of our attention were real ; which 
 is the only proof that metaphysicians produce, or 
 can produce, of the belief which accompanies per- 
 ception. 
 
 In these cases, the fact that I wish to establish is 
 so striking, that it has never been called in question ; 
 but in most cases, the impression which the objects
 
 142 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 of 'imagination make on the mind is so momentary, 
 and is so immediately corrected by the surrounding 
 objects of perception, that it has not time to in- 
 fluence our conduct. Hence we are apt to conclude 
 on a superficial view, that imagination is attended 
 with no belief; and the conclusion is surely just in 
 most cases, if by belief we mean a permanent con- 
 viction which influences our conduct. But if the 
 word be used in the strict logical sense, I am inclined 
 to think, after the most careful attention to what 
 I experience in myself, that the exercise both of 
 conception and imagination is always accompanied 
 with a belief, that their objects exist. * 
 
 * As the foregoing reasoning, though satisfactory to myself, 
 has not appeared equally so to some of my friends ; I should wish 
 the reader to consider the remarks which I now offer, as amount- 
 ing rather to a query, than to a decided opinion. 
 
 May I take the liberty of adding, that one of the arguments 
 which I have stated, in opposition to the common doctrine con- 
 cerning imagination, appears to me to be authorised, in some 
 measure, by the following reasoning of Dr. Reid's on a different 
 subject? In considering those sudden bursts of passion, which lead 
 us to wreak our vengeance upon inanimate objects, he endeavours 
 to shew, that we have, in such cases, a momentary belief that 
 the object is alive. " I confess," says he, w it seems to be im- 
 " possible, that there should be resentment against a thing, 
 " which, at that very moment, is considered as inanimate ; and 
 " consequently incapable either of intending hurt, or of being 
 " punished. There must, therefore, I conceive, be some mo- 
 " mentary notion or conception, that the object of our resent- 
 " ment is capable of punishment." 
 
 In another passage, the same author remarks, that ' men may 
 " be governed, in their practice, by a belief, which, in speculation, 
 " they reject. 
 
 " I knew a man," (says he, ) " who was as much convinced as 
 '' any man, of the folly of the popular belief of apparitions in the
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 143 
 
 When a painter conceives the face and figure of an 
 absent friend, in order to draw his picture, he believes 
 for the moment that his friend is before him. The 
 belief, indeed, is only momentary; for it is ex- 
 tremely difficult, in our waking hours, to keep up 
 a steady and undivided attention to any object we 
 conceive or imagine ; and, as soon as the conception 
 or the imagination is over, the belief which attended 
 it is at an end. "We find that we can recal and dis- 
 miss the objects of these powers at pleasure ; and 
 therefore we learn to consider them as creations of 
 the mind, which have no separate and independent 
 existence. 
 
 The compatibility of such a speculative disbelief, 
 
 " dark : yet he could not sleep in a room alone, nor go alone into 
 " a room into the dark. Can it be said, that his fear did not 
 " imply a belief of danger ? This is impossible. Yet his philo- 
 " sophy convinced him, that he was in no more danger in the 
 " dark when alone, than with company. Here an unreasonable 
 " belief, which was merely a prejudice of the nursery, stuck so 
 " fast as to govern his conduct, in qpposition to his speculative 
 " belief as a philosopher, and a man of sense." 
 
 " There are few persons who can look down from the battle- 
 " raent of a very high tower without fear ; while their reason 
 " convinces them, that they are in no more danger than when 
 " standing upon the ground." 
 
 These facts are easily explicable, on the supposition, that when- 
 ever the objects of imagination engross the attention wholly, 
 (which they may do, in opposition to any speculative opinion with 
 respect to their non-existence, ) they produce a temporary belief 
 of their reality. Indeed, in the last passage, Dr. Reid seems to 
 admit this to be the case ; for, to say that a man ; who has a dread 
 of apparitions, believes himself to be in danger when left alone 
 in the dark, is to say, in other words, that he believes (for the 
 time) that the objects of his imagination are real.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 as I have here supposed, of the existence of an 
 object, with a contrary momentary belief, may 
 perhaps be more readily admitted, if the following 
 experiment be considered with attention. 
 
 Suppose a lighted candle to be so placed before a 
 concave mirror, that the image of the flame may be 
 seen between the mirror and the eye of the observer. 
 In this case, a person who is acquainted with the 
 principles of optics, or who has seen the experiment 
 made before, has so strong a speculative conviction 
 of the non-existence of the object in that place where 
 he sees its image, that he would not hesitate to put 
 his finger to the apparent flame, without any appre- 
 hension of injury. 
 
 Suppose, however, that in such a case it were pos- 
 sible for the observer to banish completely from his 
 thoughts all the circumstances of the experiment, 
 and to confine his attention wholly to his perception; 
 would he not believe the image to be a reality; and 
 would he not expect the same consequences from 
 touching it, as from touching a real body in a state 
 of inflammation ? If these questions be answered in 
 the affirmative, it will follow ; that the effect of the 
 perception, while it engages the attention completely 
 to itself, is to produce belief; and that the speculative 
 disbelief, according to which our conduct in ordinary 
 cases is regulated, is the result of a recollection of 
 the various circumstances with which the experi- 
 ment is accompanied. 
 
 If, in such a case as I have now supposed, the 
 appearance exhibited to us is of such a nature, as 
 to threaten us with any immediate danger, the ef- 
 fect is the same as if we were to banish from our
 
 Chap. 111. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 145' 
 
 thoughts the circumstances of the experiment, and 
 to limit our attention solely to what we perceive: 
 for here the belief, which is the first effect of the 
 perception, alarms our fears, and influences our 
 conduct, before reflexion has time to operate. 
 In a very ingenious optical deception, which was 
 lately exhibited in this city, the image of a flower 
 was presented to the spectator; and when he was 
 about to lay hold of it with his hand, a stroke was 
 aimed at him by the image of a dagger. If a per- 
 son who has seen this experiment is asked, in his 
 cooler moments, whether or not he believes the 
 dagger which he saw to be real, he will readily 
 answer in the negative ; and yet the accurate state- 
 ment of the fact undoubtedly is, that the first and 
 the proper effect of the perception is belief; and 
 that the disbelief he feels, is the effect of subsequent 
 reflexion. 
 
 The speculative disbelief which we feel with re- 
 spect to the illusions of imagination, I conceive to 
 be analogous to our speculative disbelief of the ex- 
 istence of the object exhibited to the eye in this 
 optical deception ; as our belief that the illusions 
 of imagination are real, while that faculty occupies 
 the mind exclusively, is analogous to the belief 
 produced by the optical deception while the atten- . 
 tion is limited to our perception, and is with- 
 drawn from the circumstances in which the ex- 
 periment is made. * 
 
 * It may appear to some readers rather trifling to add, and 
 yet to others the remark may not be altogether superfluous, that 
 it is uot my intention to insinuate by the foregoing illustrations,
 
 146 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 These observations lead me to take notice of a 
 circumstance with respect to the belief accompany- 
 ing perception, which it appears to me necessary to 
 state, in order to render Dr. Reid's doctrine on that 
 subject completely satisfactory. He has shewn, that 
 certain sensations are, by a law of our nature, ac- 
 companied with an irresistible belief of the exist- 
 ence of certain qualities of external objects. But 
 this law extends no farther than to the present 
 existence of the quality ; that is, to its existence 
 while we feel the corresponding sensation. Whence 
 is it then, that we ascribe to the quality, an exist- 
 ence independent of our perception ? I apprehend 
 we learn to do this by experience alone. We find 
 that we cannot, as in the case of imagination, dis- 
 miss or recall the perception of an external object. 
 If I open my eyes, I cannot prevent myself from 
 seeing the prospect which is before me. I learn, 
 therefore, to ascribe to the objects of my senses, 
 not only an existence at the time I perceive them, 
 but an independent and a permanent existence. 
 
 It is a strong confirmation of this doctrine, that in 
 sleep, when (as I shall endeavour afterwards to 
 shew) the influence of the will over the train of our 
 thoughts is suspended, and when, of consequence, 
 the time of their continuance in the mind is not 
 regulated by us, we ascribe to the objects of im- 
 agination an independent and permanent existence, 
 
 that the relation between perception and imagination has the 
 most distant analogy to that between the perception of the ob- 
 ject, and the perception of its optical image.
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 147 
 
 as we do when awake to the objects of percep- 
 tion. The same thing happens in those kinds of 
 madness, in which a particular idea takes posses- 
 sion of the attention, and occupies it to the ex- 
 clusion of every thing else. Indeed, madness 
 seems in many cases to arise entirely from a suspen- 
 sion of the influence of the will over the succession 
 of our thoughts ; in consequence of which, the 
 objects of imagination appear to have an existence 
 independent of our volition ; and are therefore, 
 agreeably to the foregoing doctrine, mistaken for 
 realities. 
 
 Numberless other illustrations of the same gene- 
 ral fact occur to me ; but the following is, I think, 
 one of the most striking. I mention it, in pre- 
 ference to the rest, as it appears to me to connect 
 the doctrine in question with some principles which 
 are now universally admitted among philosophers. 
 
 The distinction between the original and the ac- 
 quired perceptions of sight, is familiarly known to 
 every one who has the slightest acquaintance with 
 the elements of optics. That this sense, prior to 
 experience, conveys to us the notion of extension 
 in two dimensions only, and that it gives us no 
 information concerning the distances at which ob- 
 jects are placed from the eye, are propositions 
 which nobody, I presume, in the present state of 
 science, will be disposed to controvert. In what 
 manner we are enabled, by a comparison between 
 the perceptions of sight and those of touch, to ex- 
 tend the province of the former sense to a variety 
 of qualities originally perceived by the latter sense 
 only, optical writers have explained at great length ;
 
 148 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 but it is not necessary for my present purpose to 
 enter into any particular details with respect to their 
 reasonings on the subject. It is sufficient for me to 
 remark, that, according to the received doctrine, 
 the original perceptions of sight become, in con- 
 seqence of experience, signs of the tangible qualities 
 of external objects, and of the distances at which 
 they are placed from the organ ; and that, although 
 the knowledge we obtain, in this manner, of these 
 qualities and distances, seems, from early and con- 
 stant habits, to be an instantaneous perception ; yet, 
 in many cases, it implies an exercise of the judg- 
 ment, being founded on a comparison of a variety 
 of different circumstances. 
 
 From these principles, it is an obvious conse- 
 quence, that the knowledge we obtain, by the eye, 
 of the tangible qualities of bodies, involves the ex- 
 ercise of conception, according to the definition 
 of that power which has already been given. In 
 ordinary discourse, indeed, we ascribe this know- 
 ledge, on account of the instantaneousness with 
 which it is obtained, to the power of perception ; 
 but if the common doctrine on the subject be just, it 
 is the result of a complex operation of the mind ; 
 comprehending, first, the perception of those quali- 
 ties, which are the proper and original objects of 
 sight ; and, secondly, the conception of those tan- 
 gible qualities of which the original perceptions of 
 sight are found from experience to be the signs. 
 The notions, therefore, we form, by means of the 
 eye ; of the tangible qualities of bodies, and of the 
 distances of these objects from the organ, are mere 
 conceptions ; strongly, and indeed indissolubly as-
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 149 
 
 sociated, by early and constant habit, with the ori- 
 ginal perceptions of sight. 
 
 When we open our eyes on a magnificent prospect, 
 the various distances at which all its different parts 
 are placed from the eye, an^ the immense extent of 
 the whole scene before us, seem to be perceived as 
 immediately, and as instantaneously, by the mind, as 
 the coloured surface which is painted on the retina. 
 The truth, however, unquestionably is, that this va- 
 riety of distance, and this immensity of extent, are 
 not objects of sense but of conception ; and the no- 
 tions we form of them when our eyes are open, differ 
 from those we should form of them with our eyes 
 shut, only in this, that they are kept steadily in the 
 view of the mind, by being strongly associated with 
 the sensations of colour, and with the original per- 
 ceptions of sight. This observation will be the 
 more readily admitted, if it be considered, that, by 
 a skilful imitation of a natural landscape, in a com- 
 mon shew-box, the mind may be led to form the 
 same notions of variety of distance, and even of im- 
 mense extent, as if the original scene were presented 
 to our senses : and that, although, in this case, we 
 have a speculative conviction that the sphere of our 
 vision only extends to a few inches ; yet so strong 
 is the association between the original perceptions 
 of sight, and the conceptions which they habitually 
 produce, that it is not possible for us, by any effort 
 of our will, to prevent these conceptions from tak- 
 ing place. 
 
 From these observations it appears, that when the 
 conceptions of the mind are rendered steady and 
 permanent, by being strongly associated with any 
 
 L 3
 
 150 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. III. 
 
 sensible impression, they command our belief no less 
 than our actual perceptions; and, therefore, if it 
 were possible for us, with our eyes shut, to keep up, 
 for a length of time, the conception of any sensible 
 object, we should, as long as this effort continued, 
 believe that the object was present to our senses. 
 
 It appears to me to be no slight confirmation of 
 these remarks, that although, in the dark, the illu- 
 sions of imagination are much more liable to be mis- 
 taken for realities, than when their momentary, ef- 
 fects on the belief are continually checked and cor- 
 rected by the objects which the light of day 
 presents to our perceptions ; yet, even total dark- 
 ness is not so alarming to a person impressed with 
 the vulgar stories of apparitions, as a faint and 
 doubtful twilight, which affords to the conceptions 
 an opportunity of fixing and prolonging 'their ex- 
 istence, by attaching themselves to something which 
 is obscurely exhibited to the eye. In like manner, 
 when we look through a fog, we are frequently apt 
 to mistake a crow for a man ; and the conception 
 we have, upon such an occasion, of the human figure, 
 is much more distinct and much more steady, than 
 it would be possible for us to form, if we had no 
 sensible object before us ; insomuch that when, on 
 a more attentive observation, the crow shrinks to 
 its own dimensions, we find it impossible, by any 
 effort, to conjure up the phantom which a moment 
 before we seemed to perceive. 
 
 If these observations are admitted, the effects 
 which exhibitions of fictitious distress produce on 
 the mind, will appear less wonderful, than they are 
 supposed to be. During the representation of a 
 
 9
 
 Chap. III. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 151 
 
 tragedy, I acknowledge, that we have a general con- 
 viction that the whole is a fiction ; but, I believe, 
 it will be found, that the violent emotions which are 
 sometimes produced by the distresses of the stage, 
 take their rise, in most cases, from a momentary be- 
 lief, that the distresses are real. I ray, in most 
 cases; because, I acknowledge, that, independently 
 of any such belief, there is something contagious in 
 a faithful expression of any of the passions. 
 
 The emotions produced by tragedy are, upon this 
 supposition, somewhat analogous to the dread we 
 feel when we look down from the battlement of a 
 tower.* In both cases, we have a general con- 
 viction, that there is no ground for the feelings we 
 experience ; but the momentary influences of im- 
 agination are so powerful as to produce these feel- 
 ings, before reflexion has time to come to our reliefl 
 
 * With respect to the dread which we feel in looking down 
 from the battlement of a tower, it is curious to remark the 
 effects of habit in gradually destroying it. The manner in which 
 habit operates in this case, seems to be by giving us a command 
 over our thoughts, so as to enable us to withdraw our attention 
 from the precipice before us, and direct it to any other object 
 at pleasure. It is thus that the mason and the sailor not only 
 can take precautions for their own safety, but remain completely 
 masters of themselves in situations where other men, engrossed 
 with their imaginary danger, would experience a total suspen- 
 sion of their faculties. Any strong passion which occupies the 
 mind produces, for the moment, the same effect with habit. A 
 person alarmed with the apprehension of fire, has been known 
 to escape from the top of a house by a path, which, at another 
 time, he would have considered as impracticable ; and soldiers, 
 in mounting a breach, are said to have sometimes found their 
 way to the enemy, by a route which appeared inaccessible 
 after their violent passions had subsided. 
 
 L 4
 
 152 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 CHAPTER FOURTH. 
 
 Of Abstraction. 
 
 ^^ 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 . 
 General Observations on this Faculty ^of the Mind. 
 
 THE origin of appellatives, or, in other words, the 
 origin of those classes of objects which, in the 
 schools, are called genera and species, has been con- 
 sidered by some philosophers as one of the most 
 difficult problems in metaphysics. The account 
 of it which is given by Mr. Smith, in his Disser- 
 tation on the Origin of Languages, appears to me 
 to be equally simple and satisfactory. 
 
 " The assignation'* (says he) " of particular 
 " names, to denote particular objects ; that is, the 
 " institution of nouns substantive ; would probably 
 " be one of the first steps towards the formation of 
 " Language. The particular cave, whose covering 
 " sheltered the savage from the weather ; the par- 
 " ticular tree, whose fruit relieved his hunger j the 
 " particular fqun tain, whose water allayed his thirst; 
 " would first be denominated by the words cave, 
 " tree, fountain ; or by whatever other appellations 
 " he might think proper, in that primitive jargon, 
 " to mark them. Afterwards, when the more en-
 
 Sect. 1., OF THE HUMAN MIND. 153 
 
 " larged experience of this savage had led him to 
 " observe, and his necessary occasions obliged him 
 " to make mention of, other caves, and other trees, 
 " and other fountains ; he would naturally bestow 
 " upon each of those new objects, the same name by 
 " which he had been accustomed to express the 
 " similar object he was first acquainted with. And 
 " thus, those words, which were originally the pro- 
 " per names of individuals, would each of them 
 " insensibly become the common name of a mul- 
 " titude." * 
 
 " It is this application" (he continues) " of the 
 " name of an individual to a great number of ob- 
 " jects, whose resemblance naturally recalls the idea 
 " of that individual, and of the namewhich expresses 
 " it, that seems originally to have given occasion to 
 " thje formation of those classes, and assortments) 
 " which, in the schools, are called genera and 
 " species ; and of which the ingenious and eloquent 
 " Rousseau finds himself so much at a loss to ac- 
 " count for the origin. What constitutes a species, 
 " is merely a number of objects, bearing a certain 
 " degree of resemblance to one another ; and, on 
 " that account, denominated by a single appellation, 
 " which may be applied to express any one of them." t 
 
 * The same account of the progress of the mind in the for- 
 mation of generay is given by the Abbe de Condillac. 
 
 " Un enfant appelle du nom d' Arbre le premier arbre que nous 
 " lui montrons. Un second arbre qu'il voit ensuite lui rapelle la 
 " meme idee; il lui donne le meme nom; de me" me a un troisieme, 
 " a un quatrieme, et voilk le mot d' Arbre donn d'abord a un 
 " individu, qui devient pour lui un nom de classe ou de genre, 
 " une idee abstraite qui comprend tous les arbres en general." 
 
 f- Dissertation on the Origin of Languages, annexed to Mr. 
 Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiment?. 
 
 10
 
 154 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 This view of the natural progress of the mind, in 
 forming classifications of external objects, receives 
 some illustration from a fact mentioned by Captain 
 Cook in his account of a small island called Wateeoo, 
 which he visited in sailing from New Zealand to 
 the Friendly Islands. " The inhabitants," says he, 
 " were afraid to come near our cows and horses, nor 
 " did they form the least conception of their nature. 
 " But the sheep and goats did not surpass the limits 
 " of their ideas ; for they gave us to understand that 
 " they knew them to be birds. It will appear," he 
 adds, " rather incredible, that human ignorance 
 " could ever make so strange a mistake, there not 
 " being the most distant similitude between a sheep 
 " or goat, and any winged animal. But these people 
 " seemed to know nothing of the existence of any 
 " other land animals, besides hogs, dogs, and birds. 
 " Our sheep and goats, they could see, were very 
 " different creatures from the two first, and there- 
 " fore they inferred that they must belong to the 
 " latter % class, in which they knew that there is a 
 " considerable variety of species." I would add 
 to Cook's very judicious remarks, that the mistake 
 of these islanders probably did not arise from their 
 considering a sheep or a goat as bearing a more 
 striking resemblance to a bird, than to the two 
 classes of quadrupeds with which they were ac- 
 quainted ; but to the want of a generic word, such 
 as quadruped, comprehending these two species ; 
 which men in their situation would no more be led 
 to form, than a person who had only seen one in- 
 dividual of each species, would think of an appel- 
 lative to express both, instead of applying a proper
 
 Sect.1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 155 
 
 name to each. In consequence of the variety of 
 birds, it appears, that they had a generic name com- 
 prehending all of them, to which it was not unna- 
 tural for them to refer any new animal they met 
 with. 
 
 The classification of different objects supposes a 
 power of attending to some of their qualities or at- 
 tributes, without attending to the rest ; for no two 
 objects are to be found without some specific dif- 
 ference ; and no assortment or arrangement can be 
 formed among things not perfectly alike, but by 
 losing sight of their distinguishing peculiarities, and 
 limiting the attention to those attributes which be- 
 long to them in common. Indeed, without this 
 power of attending separately to things which our 
 senses present to us in a state of union, we never 
 could have had any idea of number; for, before we 
 can consider different objects as forming a multi- 
 tude, it is necessary that we should be able to apply 
 to all of them one common name ; or, in other words, 
 that we should reduce them all to the same genus. 
 The various objects, for example, animate and inani- 
 mate, which are, at this moment, before me, I may 
 class and number in a variety of different ways, ac- 
 cording to the view of them that I chuse to take. 
 I may reckon successively the number of sheep, of 
 cows, of horses, of elms, of oaks, of beeches ; or I 
 may first reckon the number of animals, and then 
 the number of trees ; or I may at once reckon the 
 number of all the organised substances which my 
 senses present to me. But whatever be the principle 
 on which my classification proceeds, it is evident 
 that the objects numbered together, must be con-
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 sidered in those respects only in which they agree 
 with each other ; and that, if I had no power of 
 separating the combinations of sense, I never could 
 have conceived them as forming a plurality. 
 
 This power of considering certain qualities or at- 
 tributes of an object apart from the rest ; or, as I 
 would rather chuse to define it, the power which the 
 understanding has, of separating the combinations 
 which arepresented to it, is distinguished by logicians 
 by the name of abstraction. It has been supposed, by 
 some philosophers, (with what probability I shall not 
 now inquire,) to form the characteristical attribute 
 of a rational nature. That it is one of the most 
 important of all our faculties, and very intimately 
 connected with the exercise of our reasoning 
 powers, is beyond dispute. And, I flatter myself, 
 it will appear from the sequel of this chapter, how 
 much the proper management of it conduces, to 
 the success of our philosophical pursuits, and of our 
 general conduct in life. 
 
 The subserviency of Abstraction to the power of 
 Reasoning, and also, its subserviency to the exertions 
 of a Poetical or Creative Imagination, shall be after- 
 wards fully illustrated. At present, it is sufficient 
 for my purpose to remark, that as abstraction is the 
 ground- work of classification, without this faculty of 
 the mind we should have been perfectly incapable of 
 general speculation, and all our knowledge must ne- 
 cessarily have been limited to individuals ; and 
 that some of the most useful branches of science, 
 particularly the different branches of mathematics, in 
 which the very subjects of our reasoning are ab- 
 stractions of the understanding, could never have
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUAMN MIND. 157 
 
 possibly had an existence. With respect to the 
 subserviency of this faculty to poetical imagination, 
 it is no less obvious, that, as the poet is supplied 
 with all his materials by experience ; and as his 
 province is limited to combine and modify things 
 which really exist, so as to produce new wholes of 
 his own ; so every exertion which he thus makes 
 of his powers, presupposes the exercise of abstrac- 
 tion in decomposing and separating actual com- 
 binations. And it was on this account that, in the 
 chapter on Conception, I was led to make a distinc- 
 tion between that faculty, which is evidently sim- 
 ple and uncompounded, and the power of Imagin- 
 ation, which (at least in the sense in which I 
 employ the word in these inquiries) is the result of 
 a combination of various other powers. 
 
 I have introduced these remarks, in order to point 
 out a difference between the abstractions .which are 
 subservient to reasoning, and those which are sub- 
 servient to imagination. And, if I am not mistaken, 
 it is a distinction which has not been sufficiently 
 attended to by some writers of eminence. In every 
 instance in which imagination is employed in form- 
 ing new wholes, by decompounding and combining 
 the perceptions of sense, it is evidently necessary 
 that the poet or the painter should be able to state 
 to himself the circumstances abstracted, as separate 
 objects of conception. But this is by no means re- 
 quisite in every case in which abstraction is subser- 
 vient to the power of reasoning ; for it frequently 
 happens, that we can reason concerning one quality 
 or property of an object abstracted from the rest, 
 while, at the same time, we find it impossible to
 
 158 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 conceive it separately. Thus, I can reason concern- 
 ing extension and figure, without any reference to 
 colour ; although it may be doubted, if a person pos- 
 sessed of sight can make extension and figure steady 
 objects of conception, without connecting with them 
 one colour or another. Nor is this always owing 
 (as it is in the instance now mentioned) merely to 
 the association of ideas ; for there are cases, in which 
 we can reason concerning things separately, which 
 it is impossible for us to suppose any being so con- 
 stituted as to conceive apart. Thus, we can reason 
 concerning length, abstracted from any other di- 
 mension j although, surely, no understanding can 
 make length, without breadth, an object of concep- 
 tion. And* by the way, this leads me to take notice 
 of an error, which mathematical teachers are apt to 
 commit, in explaining the first principles of geome- 
 try. By dwelling long on Euclid's first definitions, 
 they lead the student to suppose that they relate to 
 notions which are extremely mysterious ; and to 
 strain his powers in fruitless attempts to conceive, 
 what cannot possibly be made an object of concep- 
 tion. If these definitions were omitted, or very 
 slightly touched upon, and the attention at once 
 directed to geometrical reasonings, the student 
 would immediately perceive, that although the 
 lines in the diagrams are really extended in two 
 dimensions, yet that the demonstrations relate only 
 to one of them ; and that the human understanding 
 has the faculty of reasoning concerning things sepa- 
 rately, which are always presented to us, both by our 
 powers of perception and conception, in a state of 
 union. Such abstractions, in truth, are familiar to
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 the most illiterate of mankind ; and it is in this very 
 way that they are insensibly formed. When a 
 tradesman speaks of the length of a room, in con- 
 tradistinction to its breadth j or when he speaks of 
 the distance between any two objects ; he forms 
 exactly the same abstraction, which is referred to 
 by Euclid in his second definition ; and which most 
 of his commentators have thought it necessary to 
 illustrate by prolix metaphysical disquisitions. 
 
 I shall only observe farther, with respect to the 
 nature and province of this faculty of the mind, that 
 notwithstanding its essential subserviency to every 
 act of classification, yet it might have been exer- 
 cised, although we had only been acquainted with 
 one individual object. Although, for example, we 
 had never seen but one rose, we might still have 
 been able to attend to its colour, without thinking 
 of its other properties. This has led some philo- 
 sophers to suppose, that another faculty besides ab- 
 straction, to which they have given the name of 
 generalisation, is necessary to account for the form- 
 ation of genera and species ; and they have endea- 
 voured to shew, that although generalisation with- 
 out abstraction is impossible j yet that we might 
 have been so formed, as to be able to abstract, 
 without being capable of generalising. The 
 grounds of this opinion, it is not necessary for me 
 to examine, for any of the purposes which I have 
 at present in view.
 
 160 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 ' 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of the Objects of our Thoughts, when ie employ general Terms. 
 
 FROM the account which was given in a former 
 chapter, of the common theories of perception, it 
 appears to have been a prevailing opinion among 
 philosophers, that the qualities of external objects 
 are perceived, by means of images or species trans- 
 mitted to the mind by the organs of sense: an 
 opinion of which I already endeavoured to trace the 
 origin, from certain natural prejudices suggested by 
 the phenomena of the material world. The same 
 train of thinking has led them to suppose that, in 
 the case of all our other intellectual operations, 
 there exist in the mind certain ideas distinct from 
 the mind itself; and that these ideas are the objects 
 about which our thoughts are employed. When I 
 recollect, for example, the appearance of an absent 
 friend, it is supposed that the immediate object of 
 my thoughts is an idea of my friend ; which I at 
 first received by my senses, and which I have been 
 enabled to retain in the mind by the faculty of 
 memory. When I form to myself any imaginary 
 combination by an effort of poetical invention, it is 
 supposed, in like manner, that the parts which I 
 combine, existed previously in the mind ; and fur- 
 nish the materials on which it is the province of 
 imagination to operate. Jt is to Dr. Reid we owe 
 the important remark, that all these notions are 
 wholly hypothetical j that it is impossible to produce
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 161 
 
 a shadow of evidence in support of them ; and that, 
 even although we were to admit their truth, they 
 would not render the phenomena in question more 
 intelligible. According to his principles, therefore, 
 we have no ground for supposing, that, in any one 
 operation of the mind, there exists in it an object 
 distinct from the mind itself; and all the common 
 expressions which involve such a supposition, are to 
 be considered as unmeaning circumlocutions, which 
 serve only to disguise from us the real history of the 
 intellectual phenomena. * 
 
 * In order to prevent misapprehensions of Dr. Reid's meaning 
 in his reasonings against the ideal theory, it may be necessary to 
 explain, a little more fully than I have done in the text, in what 
 sense he calls in question the existence of ideas : for the meaning 
 which this word is employed to convey in popular discourse, dif- 
 fers widely from that which is annexed to it by the philosophers 
 whose opinion he controverts. This explanation I shall give in 
 his own words : 
 
 ' In popular language, idea signifies the same thing as con- 
 " ception, apprehension, notion. To have an idea of any thing, 
 ** is to conceive it. To have a distinct idea, is to conceive it 
 " distinctly. To have no idea of it, is not to conceive it at all. 
 " When the word idea is taken in this popular sense, no man 
 " can possibly doubt whether he has ideas." 
 
 " According to the philosophical meaning of the word ide^ 
 " it does not signify that act of the mind which we call thought, 
 '* or conception, but some object of thought. Of these objects 
 " of thought called ideas, different sects of philosophers have 
 " given very different accounts." 
 
 " Some have held them to be self-existent ; others to be in 
 " the divine mind ; others in our own minds ; and others in the 
 " brain, or sensorium." P. 213. 
 
 " The Peripatetick system of species and phantasms, as well 
 '* as the Platonick system of ideas, is grounded upon-this prin- 
 " ciple, that in every kind of thought, there must be some ob- 
 
 M
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 " We are at a loss to know," (says this excellent 
 philosopher,) " how we perceive distant objects ; 
 " how we remember things past ; how we imagine 
 " things that have no existence. Ideas in the mind 
 " seem to account for all these operations ; they are 
 " all by the means of ideas reduced to one opera- 
 " tion ; to a kind of feeling, or immediate perception 
 " of things present, and in contact with the perci- 
 " pient ; and feeling is an operation so familiar, 
 " that we think it needs no explanation, but may 
 " serve to explain other operations." 
 
 f< object that really exists ; in every operation of the mind, 
 " something to work upon. Whether this immediate object 
 " be called an idea with Plato, or a phantasm or species with 
 ! Aristotle; whether it be eternal and uncreated, or produced 
 " by the impressions of external objects, is of no consequence 
 <' in the present argument." Ibid. p. 388. 
 
 " So much is this opinion fixed in the minds of philosophers, 
 " that, I doubt not but it will appear to most, a very strange 
 " paradox, or rather a contradiction, that men should think 
 " without ideas. But this appearance of contradiction arises 
 " from the ambiguity of the word idea. If the idea of a thing 
 " means only the thought of it, which is the most common 
 " meaning of the word, to think without ideas, is to think 
 " without thought; which is undoubtedly a contradiction. 
 " But an idea, according to the definition given of it by phi- 
 " losophers, is not thought, but an object of thought, which 
 " really exists, and is perceived, &c." Ibid. p. 390. 
 
 I have only to add, that when, in this work, I make use of the 
 word idea in stating my own opinions, I employ it uniformly in 
 the popular sense, and not in the philosophical sense, as now 
 explained ; it would be better, perhaps, to avoid it altogether ; 
 but I have found it difficult to do so, without adopting unusual 
 modes of expression. I flatter myself that I have used it with 
 due caution.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 1 63 
 
 " But this feeling, or immediate perception, is as 
 " difficult to be comprehended, as the things which 
 " we pretend to explain by it. Two things may be 
 "in contact, without any feeling or perception ; 
 " there must therefore be in the percipient, a power 
 " to feel, or to perceive. How this power is pro- 
 " duced, and how it operates, is quite beyond the 
 " reach of our knowledge. As little can we know, 
 " whether this power must be limited to things pre- 
 " sent, and in contact with us. Neither can any 
 " man pretend to prove, that the Being who gave 
 " us the power to perceive things present, may not 
 " give us the power to perceive things distant, to 
 " remember things past, and to conceive things that 
 " never existed/' * 
 
 In another part of this work, Dr. Reid has occasion 
 to trace the origin of the prejudice which has led phi- 
 losophers to suppose, that, in all the operations of the 
 understanding, there must be an object of thought, 
 which really exists while we think of it. His re- 
 marks on this subject, which are highly ingenious 
 and satisfactory, are contained in his account of the 
 different theories concerning conception, t 
 
 As in all the ancient metaphysical systems it was 
 taken for granted, (probably from the analogy of 
 our external perceptions,) that every exertion of 
 thought implies the existence of an object distinct 
 from the thinking being ; it naturally occurred, as a 
 very curious question, What is the immediate object 
 of our attention, when we are engaged in any ge- 
 neral speculation ; or, in other wo-rds, what is the 
 
 * Essays on the Intellectual Powers, p. 214. f Ibid. p. 378. 
 M <2
 
 l64f ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 nature of the idea corresponding to a general term ? 
 When I think of any particular object which I have 
 formerly perceived, such as a particular friend, a 
 particular tree, or a particular mountain, I can com- 
 prehend what is meant by a picture or representation 
 of such objects: and therefore the explanation 
 given by the ideal theory of that act of the mind 
 which we formerly called Conception, if not per- 
 fectly satisfactory, is at least not wholly unintelli- 
 gible. But what account shall we give, upon the 
 principles of this theory, of the objects of my 
 thoughts, when I employ the words, friend, tree, 
 mountain, as generic terms? For, that all the 
 things I have ever perceived are individuals; and 
 consequently, that the ideas denoted by general 
 words, (if such ideas exist,) are not copied from any 
 originals that have fallen under my observation ; is 
 not only self-evident, but almost an identical pro- 
 position. 
 
 In answer to this question, the Platonists, and, at 
 a still earlier period, the Pythagoreans, taught, that, 
 although these universal ideas are not copied from 
 any objects perceivable by sense, yet that they have 
 an existence independent of the human mind, and 
 are no more to be confounded with the understand- 
 ing, of which they are the proper objects, than ma- 
 terial things are to be confounded with our powers 
 of external perception j that as all the individuals 
 which compose a genus, must possess something in 
 common ; and as it is in consequence of this, that 
 they belong to that genus, and are distinguishable 
 by the same name, this common thing forms the 
 essence of each $ and is the object of the under-
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 165 
 
 standing, when we reason concerning the genus. 
 They maintained also, that this common* essence, 
 notwithstanding its inseparable union with a multi- 
 tude of different individuals, is in itself one, and 
 indivisible. 
 
 On most of these points, the philosophy of 
 Aristotle seems to have coincided very nearly with 
 that of Plato. The language, however, which these 
 philosophers employed on this subject was different, 
 and gave to their doctrines the appearance of a 
 wider diversity than probably existed between their 
 opinions. While Plato was led, by his passion for 
 the marvellous and the mysterious, to insist on the 
 incomprehensible union of the same idea or essence, 
 with a number of individuals, without multiplication 
 or division t ; Aristotle, more cautious, and aiming 
 at greater perspicuity,, contented himself with say- 
 ing, that all individuals are composed of matter and 
 
 * In this very imperfect sketch of the opinions of the ancients 
 concerning universals, I have substituted, instead of the word 
 idea, the word essence, as better fitted to convey to a modern 
 reader the true import of Plato's expressions. The word essentia 
 is said to have been first employed by Cicero ; and it was after- 
 wards adopted by the schoolmen, in the same sense in which the 
 Platonists used the word idea.. See Dr. REID'S Ejssays.on the 
 Intellectual Powers, p. 473. 
 
 f " The idea of a thing," (says Plato,) " is that which makes 
 " one of the many ; which, preserving the unity and integrity of 
 " its own nature, runs through and mixes with things infinite in 
 " number ; and yet, however multiform it may appear, is always 
 " the same : so that by it we find out aud discriminate the 
 " thing, whatever shapes it may, assume, and under whatever 
 " disguise it may conceal itself.." PLATO in PHILEBO ; (quoted 
 by the Author of the Origin and Progress of Language, vol. i. 
 p. 100. 2d. edit.) 
 
 M 3
 
 1C6 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 form ; and that it is in consequence of possessing a 
 common form, that different individuals belong to 
 the same genus. But they both agreed, that, as the 
 matter, or the individual natures of objects were per- 
 ceived by sense ; so the general idea, or essence, or 
 form, was perceived by the intellect ; and that, as 
 the attention of the vulgar was chiefly engrossed 
 with the former, so the latter furnished to the phi- 
 losopher the materials of his speculations. 
 
 The chief difference between the opinions of Plato 
 and Aristotle on the subject of ideas, related to the 
 mode of their existence. That the matter of which 
 all things are made, existed from eternity, was a prin- 
 ciple which both admitted; but Plato farther taught, 
 that, of every species of things, there is an idea of 
 form which also existed from eternity ; and that 
 this idea is the exemplar or model according to 
 which the individuals of the species were made ; 
 whereas Aristotle held, that, although matter may 
 exist without form, yet that forms could not exist 
 without matter. * 
 
 * In this account of the difference between Plato and Aristotle 
 on the subject of ideas, I have chiefly followed Brucker, whose 
 X'ery laborious researches with respect to this article of the history 
 of philosophy are well known. In stating the distinction, how- 
 ever, I have confined myself to as general terms as possible ; as 
 the subject is involved in much obscurity, and has divided the 
 opinions of very eminent writers. The reader will find the result 
 of Brucker's inquiries, in his own words, in Note (F). 
 
 The authority of Brucker, in this instance, has the more weight 
 with me, as it coincides in the most material respects with that 
 of Dr. Reid. See his Essays on the Intellectual Powers of Man, 
 and the conclusion of his Inquiry into the Human Mind. 
 
 A very different account of Aristotle's doctrine, in those par-
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 The doctrine of the Stoics concerning universals, 
 differed widely from those both of Plato and 
 Aristotle, and seems to have approached to a specu- 
 lation which is commonly supposed to be of a more 
 recent origin, and which an eminent philosopher of 
 the present age has ranked among the discoveries 
 which do the greatest honour to modern genius. * 
 
 Whether this doctrine of the Stoics coincided en- 
 tirely with that of the Nominalists, (whose opinions 
 I shall afterwards endeavour to explain,) or whether 
 it did not resemble more, a doctrine maintained by 
 another sect of schoolmen called Conceptualists, I 
 shall not inquire. The determination of this ques- 
 tion is interesting only to men of erudition ; for the 
 knowledge we possess of this part of the Stoical 
 philosophy, is too imperfect to assist us in the farther 
 prosecution of the argument, or even to diminish 
 
 ticulars in which it is commonly supposed to differ from that of 
 Plato, is given by two modern writers of great learning, whose 
 opinions are justly entitled to much respect, from their familiar 
 acquaintance with Aristotle's latter Commentators of the Alex- 
 andrian School. See Origin and Progress of Language, 
 vol. i., and HARRIS'S Hermes. 
 
 It is of no consequence, for any of the purposes which I have 
 at present in view, what opinion we form on this much contro- 
 verted point of philosophical history. In so far as the /ideal 
 theory was an attempt to explain the manner in which our gene- 
 ral speculations are carried on, it is agreed on all hands, that the 
 doctrines of Plato and Aristotle were essentially the same ; and 
 accordingly, what I have said on that subject, coincides entirely 
 with a passage which the reader will find, in " Origin and Pro- 
 gress of Language," vol. i. p. 38. 2d edit. 
 
 * Treatise of Human Nature, book i. part i. sect. 7. 
 M 4
 
 168 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 the merit of those philosophers who have, in modern 
 times, been led to similar conclusions. * 
 
 As it is not my object, in this work, to enter into 
 historical details, any farther than is necessary for 
 illustrating the subjects of which I treat, I shall pass 
 over the various attempts which were made by the 
 Eclectic philosophers, (a sect which arose at Alex- 
 andria about the beginning of the third century,) to 
 reconcile the doctrines of Plato and Aristotle con- 
 cerning ideas. The endless difficulties, it would 
 appear, to which their speculations led, induced, at 
 last, the more cautious and modest inquirers to 
 banish them entirely from Dialectics, and to con- 
 tent themselves with studying the arrangements or 
 classifications of universals, which th6 ancient philo- 
 sophers had made, without engaging in any meta- 
 physical disquisitions concerning their nature. 
 Porphyry, in particular, although he tells us, that 
 he has speculated much on this subject j yet, in his 
 Introduction to Aristotle's Categories, waves the 
 consideration of it as obscure and intricate. On such 
 questions as these ; " Whether genera and species 
 " exist in nature, or are only -conceptions of the 
 " Human Mind ; and (on the supposition that 
 " they exist in nature) whether they are inherent in 
 " the objects of sense, or disjoined from them ?" 
 he declines giving any determination. 
 
 This passage in Porphyry's Introduction is an ob- 
 ject of curiosity ; as, by a singular concurrence of 
 circumstances, it served to perpetuate the memory 
 of a controversy from which it was the author's in- 
 tention to divert the inquiries of his readers. Amidst 
 
 * See Note [G].
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 169 
 
 the disorders produced by the irruptions of the Bar- 
 barians, the knowledge of the Greek tongue was 
 almost entirely lost ; and the studies of philosophers 
 were confined to Latin versions of Aristotle's Dia- 
 lectics, and of Porphyry's Introduction concerning 
 the Categories. With men who had a relish for such 
 disquisitions, it is probable that the passage already 
 quoted from Porphyry, would have a tendency 
 rather to excite than to damp curiosity j and ac- 
 cordingly, we have reason to believe, that the con- 
 troversy to which it relates continued, during the 
 dark ages, to form a favourite subject of discussion. 
 The opinion which was prevalent was, (to use the 
 scholastic language of the times,) that universals do 
 not exist before things, nor after things, but in 
 things ; that is, (if I may be allowed to attempt a 
 commentary upon expressions to which I do not pre- 
 tend to be able to annex very precise notions,) uni- 
 versal ideas have not (as Plato thought) an existence 
 separable from individual objects ; and therefore, 
 they could not have existed prior to them in the 
 order of time ; nor yet, (according to the doctrine 
 of the Stoics,) are they mere conceptions of the 
 mind, formed in consequence of an examination and 
 comparison of particulars ; but these ideas or forms 
 are from eternity united inseparably with that mat- 
 ter of which things consist j or, as the Aristotelians 
 sometimes express themselves, the forms of things 
 are from eternity immersed in matter. The reader 
 will,' I hope, forgive me for entering into these de- 
 tails, not only on account of their connexion with 
 the observations which are to follow ; but as they 
 relate to a controversy which, for many ages, em-
 
 170 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 ployed all the ingenuity and learning in Europe ; 
 and which, therefore, however frivolous in itself, de- 
 serves the attention of philosophers, as one of the 
 most curious events which occurs in the history of 
 the Human Mind. 
 
 Such appears to have been the prevailing opinion 
 concerning the nature of universals, till the eleventh 
 century ; when a new doctrine, or (as some authors 
 think) a doctrine borrowed from the school of Zeno, 
 was proposed by Roscelinus*; and soon after very 
 widely propagated over Europe by the abilities and 
 eloquence of one of his scholars, the celebrated 
 Peter Abelard. According to these philosophers, 
 there are no existences in nature corresponding to 
 general terms ; and the objects of our attention in all 
 our general speculations are not ideas, but words. 
 
 In consequence of this new doctrine, the school- 
 men gradually formed themselves into two sects : 
 one of which attached itself to the opinions of Rosce- 
 linus and Abelard ; while the othe,r adhered to the 
 principles of Aristotle. Of these sects, the former 
 are known in literary history by the name of the 
 Nominalists ; the latter by that of the Realists. 
 
 As it is with the doctrine of the Nominalists that 
 my own opinion on this subject coincides ; and as I 
 propose to deduce from it some consequences, 
 which appear to me important, I shall endeavour to 
 state it as clearly and precisely as I am able, pursu- 
 ing, however, rather the train of my own thoughts, 
 than guided by the reasons of any particular author. 
 
 1 formerly explained in what manner the words, 
 which, in the infancy of language, were proper 
 " See Note [H].
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 171 
 
 names, became gradually appellatives ; in conse- 
 quence of which extension of their signification, 
 they would express, when applied to individuals, 
 those qualities only which are common to the whole 
 genus. Now, it is evident, that, with respect to in- 
 dividuals of the same genus, there are two classes 
 of truths ; the one, particular truths relating to 
 each individual apart, and deduced from a consider- 
 ation of its peculiar and distinguishing properties ; 
 the other, general truths, deduced from a consider- 
 ation of their common qualities ; and equally ap- 
 plicable to all of them. Such truths may be con- 
 veniently expressed, by means of general terms ; so 
 as to form propositions, comprehending under them 
 as many particular truths, as there are individuals 
 comprehended under the general terms. It is far- 
 ther evident, that there are two ways in which such 
 general truths may be obtained ; either by fixing 
 the attention on one individual, in such a manner 
 that our reasoning may involve no circumstances 
 but those which are common to the whole genus ; 
 or, (laying aside entirely the consideration of 
 things,) by means of the general terms with which 
 language supplies us. In either of these cases, our 
 investigations must necessarily lead us to general 
 conclusions. In the first case ; our attention being 
 limited to those circumstances, in which the subject 
 of our reasoning resembles all other individuals of 
 the same genus, whatever we demonstrate with re- 
 spect to this subject must be true of every other to 
 which the same attributes belong. In the second 
 case ; the subject of our reasoning being expressed 
 by a generic word, which applies in common to a
 
 172 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV, 
 
 number of individuals, the conclusion we form must 
 be as extensive in its application, as the name of the 
 subject is in its meaning. The former process is 
 analogous to the practice of geometers, who, in their 
 most general reasonings, direct the attention to a 
 particular diagram : the latter, to that of algebraists, 
 who carry on their investigations by means of sym- 
 bols: * In cases of this last sort, it may frequently 
 happen, from the association of ideas, that a general 
 word may recal some one individual to which it is 
 applicable ; but this is so far from being necessary 
 to the accuracy of our reasoning, that, excepting in 
 some cases, in which it may be useful to check us 
 in the abuse of general terms, it always has a tend- 
 ency, more or less, to mislead us from the truth. 
 As the decision of a judge must necessarily be im- 
 partial, when he is only acquainted with the rela- 
 tions in which the parties stand to each other, and 
 when their names are supplied by letters of the 
 alphabet, or by the fictitious names of Titius, Caius, 
 and Sempronius ; so, in every process of reasoning, 
 the conclusion we form is most likely to be logically 
 just, when the attention is confined solely to signs ; 
 
 * These two methods of obtaining general truths proceed on 
 the same principles ; and are, in fact, much less different from 
 each other, than they appear to be at first view. When we carry 
 on a process of general reasoning, by fixing our attention on a 
 particular individual of a genus, this individual is to be considered 
 merely as a sign or representative ; and differs from any other 
 sign only in this, that it bears a certain resemblance to the things 
 it denotes. The straight lines which are employed in the fifth 
 book of Euclid to represent magnitudes in general, differ from 
 the algebraical expressions of these magnitudes, in the same re- 
 spects in which picture-writing differs from arbitrary characters.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 173 
 
 and when the imagination does not present to it 
 those individual objects which may warp the judg- 
 ment by casual associations. 
 
 To these remarks, it may not be improper to add, 
 that, although in our speculations concerning indi- 
 viduals, it is possible to carry on processes of reason- 
 ing, by fixing our attention on the objects them- 
 selves, without the use of language ; yet it is also in 
 our power to accomplish the same end, by substi- 
 tuting for these objects, words, or other arbitrary 
 signs. The difference between the employment of 
 language in such cases, and in our speculations con- 
 cerning classes or genera, is ; that in the former 
 case the use of words is, in a great measure, optional ; 
 whereas, in the latter, it is essentially necessary. 
 This observation deserves our attention the more, 
 that, if I am not mistaken, it has contributed to mis- 
 lead some of the Realists ; by giving rise to an idea, 
 that the use of language, in thinking about uni- 
 versals, however convenient, is not more necessary 
 than in thinking about individuals. 
 
 According to this view of the process of the mind, 
 in carrying on general speculations, that IDEA which 
 the ancient philosophers considered as the essence of 
 an individual, is nothing more than the particular 
 quality or qualities in which it resembles other indi- 
 viduals of the same class ; and in consequence of 
 which, a generic name is applied to it. It is the pos- 
 session of this quality, that entitles the individual to 
 the generic appellation ; and which, therefore, may 
 be said to be essential to its classification with that 
 particular genus ; but as all classifications are to a 
 certain degree arbitrary, it does not necessarily 
 1 1
 
 174 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 follow, that it is more essential to its existence as an 
 individual, than various other qualities which we are 
 accustomed to regard as accidental. In other words, 
 (if I may borrow the language of modern philoso- 
 phy,) this quality forms its nominal, but not its 
 real essence. 
 
 These observations will, I trust, be sufficient for 
 the satisfaction of such of my readers as are at all 
 conversant with philosophical inquiries. For the 
 sake of others, to whom this disquisition may be 
 new, I have added the following illustrations. 
 
 I shall have occasion to examine, in another part 
 of my work, how far it is true, (as is commonly be- 
 lieved,) that every process of reasoning may be re- 
 solved into a series of syllogisms ; and to point out 
 some limitations, with which, I apprehend, it is ne- 
 cessary that this opinion should be received. As it 
 would lead me, however, too far from my present 
 subject, to anticipate anypart of the doctrine which 
 I am then to propose, I shall, in the following re- 
 marks, proceed on the supposition, that the syllo- 
 gistic theory is well-founded ; a supposition which, 
 although not strictly agreeable to truth, is yet suffi- 
 ciently accurate for the use which I am now to 
 make of it. Take then, any step of one of Euclid's 
 demonstrations ; for example, the first step of his 
 first proposition, and state it in the form of a syllo- 
 gism. " All straight lines, drawn from the centre 
 " of a circle to the circumference, are equal to one 
 " another." " But A B, and C D, are straight lines, 
 " drawn from the centre of a circle to the circum- 
 " ference. Therefore, A. B is equal to C D." 
 It is perfectly manifest, that, in order to feel the
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 175 
 
 force of this conclusion, it is by no means necessary, 
 that I should annex any particular notions to the 
 letters A B, or C D, or that I should comprehend 
 what is meant by equality, or by a circle, its centre, 
 and its circumference. Every person must be satis- 
 fied, that the truth of the conclusion is necessarily 
 implied in that of the two premises ; whatever the 
 particular things may be to which these premises 
 may relate. In the following syllogism, too : 
 " All men must die ; Peter is a man ; there- 
 fore Peter must die ;" the evidence of the con- 
 clusion does not in the least depend on the particular 
 notions I annex to the words man, and Peter ; but 
 would be equally complete, if we were to substitute 
 instead of them, two letters of the alphabet, or any 
 other insignificant characters. " All X's must 
 die ; Z is an X ; therefore Z must die ;" is a 
 syllogism which forces the assent no less than the 
 former. It is farther obvious, that this syllogism 
 would be equally conclusive, it', instead of the word 
 die, I were to substitute any other verb that the 
 language contains ; and, that, in order to perceive 
 the justness of the inference, it is not even necessary 
 that I should understand its meaning. 
 
 In general, it might be easily shewn, that all the 
 rules of logic, with respect to syllogisms, might be 
 demonstrated, without having recourse to any thing 
 but letters of the alphabet ; in the same manner, 
 (and I may add, on the very same principles,) on 
 which the algebraist demonstrates, by means of 
 these letters, the various rules for transposing the 
 terms of an equation. 
 
 From what has been said, it follows, that the assent
 
 176 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 we give to the conclusion of a syllogism does not re- 
 sult from any examination of the notions expressed 
 by the different propositions of which it is composed, 
 but is an immediate consequence of the relations 
 in which the words stand to eacfo other. The truth 
 is, that in every syllogism, the inference is only a 
 particular instance of the general axiom, that what- 
 ever is true universally of any sign, must also be 
 true of every individual which that sign can be em- 
 ployed to express. Admitting, therefore, that every 
 process of reasoning may be resolved into a series of 
 syllogisms, it follows, that this operation of the 
 mind furnishes no proof of the existence of any- 
 thing corresponding to general terms, distinct from 
 the individuals to which these terms are applicable. 
 These remarks, I am very sensible, do, by no 
 means, exhaust the subject ; for there are various 
 modes of reasoning, to which the syllogistic theory 
 does not apply. But, in all of them, without ex- 
 ception, it will be found, on examination, that the 
 evidence of our conclusions appears immediately 
 from the consideration of the words in which the 
 premises are expressed j without any reference to 
 the things which they denote. The imperfect ac- 
 count which is given of deductive evidence, in the 
 received systems of logic, makes it impossible for me, 
 in this place, to prosecute the subject any farther. 
 - After all that I have said on the use of language 
 as an instrument of reasoning,*! can easily foresee a 
 variety of objections, which may occur to the doc- 
 trine I have been endeavouring to establish. But, 
 without entering into a particular examination of 
 these objections, I believe I may venture to affirm*
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 177 
 
 that most, if not all, of them take their rise from 
 confounding reasoning, or deduction, properly so 
 called, with certain other intellectual processes, 
 which it is necessary for us to employ in the in- 
 vestigation of truth. That it is frequently of essen- 
 tial importance to us, in our speculations, to with- 
 draw our attention from words, and to direct it to 
 the things they denote, I am very ready to acknow- 
 ledge. All that I assert is, that, in so far as our spe- 
 culations consist of that process of the mind which is 
 properly called reasoning, they may be carried on 
 by words alone ; or, which comes to the same thing, 
 that every process of reasoning is perfectly ana- 
 logous to an algebraical operation. What I mean by 
 " the other intellectual processes distinct from rea- 
 " soning, which it is necessary for us sometimes to 
 " employ in the investigation of truth," will, I hope, 
 appear clearly from the following remarks. 
 
 In algebraical investigations, it is well known, that 
 the practical application of a general expression, is 
 frequently limited by the conditions which the hy- 
 pothesis involves ; and that, in consequence of a 
 want of attention to'this circumstance, some mathe- 
 maticians of the first eminence have been led to 
 adopt the most paradoxical and absurd conclusions. 
 Without this cautious exercise of the judgment, in 
 the interpretation of the algebraical language, no 
 dexterity in the use of the calculus will be sufficient 
 to preserve us from error. Even in algebra, there- 
 fore, there is an application of the intellectual powers 
 perfectly distinct from any process of reasoning ; and 
 which is absolutely necessary for conducting us to 
 the truth.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 In geometry, we are not liable to adopt the same 
 paradoxical conclusions, as in algebra ; because the 
 diagrams, to which our attention is directed, serve 
 as a continual check on our reasoning powers. 
 These diagrams exhibit to our very senses, a variety 
 of relations among the quantities under consider- 
 ation, which the language of algebra is too general 
 to express ; in consequence of which, we are not 
 conscious of any effort of the judgment distinct from 
 a process of reasoning. As every geometrical in- 
 vestigation, however, maybe expressed algebrai- 
 cally, it is manifest, that in geometry, as well as in 
 algebra, there is an exercise of the intellectual 
 powers, distinct from the logical process ; although, 
 in the former science, it is rendered so easy, by the 
 use of diagrams, as to escape our attention. 
 
 The same source of error and of absurdity, which 
 exists in algebra, is to be found, in a much greater 
 degree, in the other branches of knowledge. Ab- 
 stracting entirely from the ambiguity of language ; 
 and supposing also our reasonings to be logically ac- 
 curate, it would still be necessary for us, from time 
 to time, in all our speculations, to lay aside the use 
 of words, and to have recourse to particular exam- 
 ples, or illustrations, in order to correct and to 
 limit our general conclusions. To a want of at- 
 tention to this circumstance, a number of the spe- 
 culative absurdities which are current in the world, 
 might, I am persuaded, be easily traced. 
 
 Besides, however, this source of error, which is 
 in some degree common to all the sciences, there is 
 a great variety of others, from which mathematics 
 are entirely exempted j and which perpetually tend
 
 Sect. 2. O p THE HUMAN MIND. 179 
 
 to lead us astray in our philosophical inquiries. Of 
 these, the most important is, that ambiguity in the 
 signification of words, which renders it so difficult 
 to avoid employing the same expressions in different 
 senses, in the course of the same process of reason- 
 ing. This source of mistake, indeed, is apt, in a 
 much greater degree, to affect our conclusions in 
 metaphysics, morals, and politics, than in the dif-. 
 ferent branches of natural philosophy ; but, if we 
 except mathematics, there is no science whatever, 
 in which it has not a very sensible influence. In 
 algebra, we may proceed with perfect safety through 
 the longest investigations, without carrying our at- 
 tention beyond the signs, till we arrive at the last 
 result. But in the other sciences, excepting in those 
 cases in which we have fixed the meaning of all our 
 terms by accurate definitions, and have rendered the 
 use of these terms perfectly familiar to us by very 
 long habit, it is but seldom that we can proceed in 
 this manner without danger of error. In many 
 cases, it is necessary for us to keep up, during the 
 whole of our investigations, a scrupulous and con- 
 stant attention to the signification of our expressions; 
 and, in most cases, this caution in the use of words, 
 is a much more difficult effort of the mind, than the 
 logical process. But still this furnishes no exception 
 to the general doctrine already delivered ; for the 
 attention we find it necessary to give to the import 
 of our words, arises only from the accidental cir- 
 cumstance of their ambiguity, and has no essential 
 connection with that process of the mind, which is 
 properly called reasoning ; and which consists in 
 the inference of a conclusion from premises. In 
 
 N 2
 
 180 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 all the sciences, this process of the mind is perfectly 
 analogous to an algebraical operation ; or, in other 
 words, (when the meaning of our expressions is once 
 fixed by definitions,) it may be carried on intirely 
 by the use of signs, without attending, during the 
 time of the process, to the things signified. 
 
 The conclusion to which the foregoing observ- 
 ations lead, appears to me to be decisive of the 
 question, with respect to the objects of our thoughts 
 when we employ general terms; for if it be granted, 
 that words, even when employed without any refer- 
 ence to their particular signification, form an instru- 
 ment of thought sufficient for all the purposes of rea- 
 soning ; the only shadow of an argument in proof of 
 the common doctrine on the subject, (I mean that 
 which is founded on the impossibility of explaining 
 this process of the mind on any other hypothesis,) 
 falls to the ground. Nothing less, surely, than a 
 conviction of this impossibility, could have so long 
 reconciled philosophers to an hypothesis unsup- 
 ported by any direct evidence ; and acknowledged 
 even by its warmest defenders, to involve much dif- 
 ficulty and mystery. 
 
 It does not fall within my plan, to enter, in this 
 part of my work, into a particular consideration of 
 the practical consequences which follow from the 
 foregoing doctrine. I cannot, however, help re- 
 marking the importance of cultivating, on the one 
 hand, a talent for ready and various illustration ; 
 and, on the other, a habit of reasoning by means of 
 general terms. The former talent is necessary, not 
 only for correcting and limiting our general conclu- 
 sions, but for enabling us to apply our knowledge,
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 181 
 
 when occasion requires, to its real practical use. 
 The latter serves the double purpose, of preventing 
 our attention from being distracted during the 
 course of our reasonings, by ideas which are foreign 
 to the point in question ; and of diverting the at- 
 tention from those conceptions of particular objects 
 and particular events which might disturb the 
 judgment, by the ideas and feelings which are apt 
 to be associated with them, in consequence of our 
 own casual experience. 
 
 This last observation points out to us, also, one 
 principal foundation of the art of the orator. As his 
 object is not so much to inform and to satisfy the 
 understandings of his hearers, as to force their im- 
 mediate assent ; it is frequently of use to him to 
 clothe his reasonings in that specific and figurative 
 language, which may either awaken in their minds 
 associations favourable to his purpose, or may divert 
 their attention from a logical examination of his 
 argument. A process of reasoning so expressed, 
 affords at once an exercise to the judgment, to the 
 imagination, and to the passions j and is apt, even 
 when loose and inconsequential, to impose on the 
 best understandings. 
 
 It appears farther, from the remarks which have 
 been made, that the perfection of philosophical lan- 
 guage, considered either as an instrumentof thought, 
 or as a medium of communication with others, con- 
 sists in the use of expressions, which, from their ge- 
 rality, have no tendency to awaken the powers of 
 conception and imagination ; or, in other words, it 
 consists in its approaching, as nearly as possible, in 
 its nature, to the language of algebra. And hence 
 
 N 3
 
 182 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 the effects which long habits of philosophical specu- 
 lation have, in weakening, by disuse, those faculties 
 of the mind, which are necessary for the exertions 
 of the poet and the orator ; and of gradually forming 
 a style of composition, which they who read merely 
 for amusement, are apt to censure for a want of 
 vivacity and of ornament. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Remarks on the Opinions of some modern Philosophers on the 
 Subject of the foregoing Section. 
 
 AFTER the death of Abelard, through whose abilities 
 and eloquence the sect of Nominalists had enjoyed, 
 for a few years, a very splendid triumph, the system 
 of the Realists began to revive ; and it was soon so 
 completely re-established in the schools, as to prevail, 
 with little or no opposition, till the fourteenth cen- 
 tury. What the circumstances were, which led 
 philosophers to abandon a doctrine, which seems so 
 strongly to recommend itself by its simplicity, it is 
 not very easy to conceive. Probably the heretical 
 opinions, which had subjected both Abelard and 
 Roscelinus to the censure of the church, might 
 create a prejudice also against their philosophical 
 principles ; and probably too, the manner in which 
 these principles were stated and defended, was not 
 the clearest, nor the most satisfactory. * The prin- 
 cipal cause, however, I am disposed to think, of the 
 
 * The great argument which the Nominalists employed against 
 the existence of universals was ; " Entia non sunt multiplicanda 
 " praeter necessitatem."
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 183 
 
 decline of the sect of Nominalists, was their want 
 of some palpable example, by means of which they 
 might illustrate their doctrine. It is by the use 
 which algebraists make of the letters of the alphabet 
 in carrying on their operations, that Leibnitz and 
 Berkeley havebeen most successful in explaining the 
 use of language as an instrument of thought : and, 
 as in the twelfth century, the algebraical art was en- 
 tirely unknown, Roscelinus and Abelard must have 
 been reduced to the necessity of conveying their 
 leading idea by general circumlocutions ; and must 
 have found considerable difficulty in stating it in a 
 manner satisfactory to themselves : a consideration, 
 which, if it accounts for the slow progress which 
 this doctrine made in the world, places in the more 
 striking light, the genius of those men whose saga- 
 city led them, under so great disadvantages, to ap- 
 proach to a conclusion so just and philosophical in 
 itself, and so opposite to the prevailing opinions of 
 their age. 
 
 In the fourteenth century, this sect seems to have 
 been almost completely extinct ; their doctrine being 
 equally reprobated by the two great parties which 
 then divided the schools, the followers of Duns 
 Scotus and of Thomas Aquinas. These, although 
 they differed in their manner of explaining the nature 
 of universals, and opposed each other's opinions 
 with much asperity, yet united in rejecting the doc- 
 trine of the Nominalists, not only as absurd, but as 
 leading to the most dangerous consequences. At last, 
 William Occam, a native of England, and a scholar 
 of Duns Scotus, revived the ancient controversy : 
 and with equal ability and success vindicated the 
 
 N 4>
 
 184< ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 long-abandoned philosophy of Roscelinus. From 
 this time the dispute was carried on with great 
 warmth, in the universities of France, of Germany, 
 and of England j more particularly in the two for- 
 mer countries, where the sovereigns were led, by 
 some political views, to interest themselves deeply 
 in the contest j and even to employ the civil power in 
 supporting their favourite opinions. The Emperor 
 Lewis of Bavaria, in return for the assistance which, 
 in his disputes with the Pope *, Occam had given 
 to him by his writings, sided with the Nominalists. 
 Lewis the Eleventh of France, on the other hand, 
 attached himself to the Realists, and made their 
 antagonists the objects of a cruel persecution, t 
 
 The Protestant Reformation, at length, involved 
 men of learning in discussions of a more interesting 
 nature ; but even the zeal of theological contro- 
 versy could hardly exceed that with which the 
 Nominalists and Realists had for some time before 
 maintained their respective doctrines. " Clamores 
 primum ad ravim," (says an author who had him- 
 self been an eye-witness of these literary disputes,) 
 " hinc improbitas, sannae, minae, convitia, dum luc- 
 " tantur, et uterque alterum tentat prosternere : 
 " consumtis verbis venitur ad pugnos, ad veram 
 " lectam ex ficta et simulata. Quin etiam, quse 
 " contingunt in palaestra, illic non desunt, colaphi, 
 " alapae, consp utio, calces, morsus, etiam quse jam 
 " supra leges palaestrae, fustes, ferrum, faueii multi, 
 
 * Occam, we are told, was accustomed to say to the Emperor : 
 " Tu me defendas gladio, et ego te defendam calamo." 
 
 BRUCKER, vol.iii. p. 88~ 
 f MOSHEIM'S Ecclesiastical History.
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 185 
 
 " nonnunquam occisi." * That this account is not 
 exaggerated, we have the testimony of no less an 
 author than Erasmus, who mentions it as a common 
 occurrence : " Eos usque ad pallorem, usque ad 
 " con\ 7 itia, usque ad sputa, nonnunquam et usque 
 " ad pugnos invicem digladiari, alios ut Nominales, 
 " alios ut Reales, loqui." t 
 
 The dispute to which the foregoing observations 
 relate, although for some time after the Reform- 
 ation, interrupted by theological disquisitions, lias 
 been since occasion ally revived by different writers ; 
 and, singular as it may appear, it has not yet been 
 brought to a conclusion in which all parties are 
 agreed. The names, indeed, of Nominalists and 
 Realists exist no longer ; but the point in dispute 
 between these two celebrated sects, coincides pre- 
 cisely with a question which has been agitated in 
 our own times, and which has led to one of the 
 most beautiful speculations of modern philosophy. 
 
 Of the advocates'who have appeared for the doc- 
 trine of the Nominalists, since the revival of letters, 
 the most distinguished are, Hobbes, Berkeley, and 
 Hume. The first has, in various parts of his works, 
 reprobated the hypothesis of the Realists ; and has 
 stated the opinions of their antagonists with that 
 
 * LUDOVICUS VIVES. 
 
 f The Nominalists procured the death of John Huss, who was 
 a Realist ; and in their Letter to Lewis King of France, do not 
 pretend to deny that he fell a victim to the resentment of their 
 sect. The Realists, on the other hand, obtained, in the year 1479, 
 the condemnation of John de Wesalia, who was attached to the 
 party of the Nominalists. These contending sects carried their 
 fury so far as to charge each other with " the sin against the 
 Holy Ghost." MOSHEIM'S Ecclesiastical Historr.
 
 186 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 acuteness, simplicity, and precision, which distin- 
 guish all his writings. * The second, considering 
 (and, in my opinion, justly) the doctrines of the an- 
 cients concerning universals, 1 in support of which so 
 much ingenuity had been employed by the Realists, 
 as the great source of mystery and error in the ab- 
 stract sciences, was at pains to overthrow it com- 
 pletely, by some very ingenious and original specu- 
 lations of his own. Mr. Hume's t view of the subject, 
 
 * " The universality of one name to many things, hath been 
 " the cause that men think the things themselves are universal ; 
 " and so seriously contend, that besides Peter and John, and all 
 " the rest of the men that are, have been, or shall be, in the 
 " world, there is yet something eUe, that we call Man, viz. Man 
 " in general; deceiving themselves, by taking the universal, or 
 " general appellation, for the thing it signifieth : For if one 
 " should desire the painter to make him the picture of a man, 
 " which is as much as to say, of a man in general ; he meaneth 
 " no more, but that the painter should chuse what man he 
 " plea&eth to draw, which must needs be some of them that are, 
 " or have been, or may be : none of which are universal. But 
 " when he would have him to draw the picture of the king, or 
 " any particular person, he limiteth the painter to that one per- 
 " son he chuseth. It is plain, therefore, that there is nothing 
 " universal but names ; which are therefore called indefinite, 
 " because we limit them not ourselves, but leave them to be ap- 
 " plied by the hearer : whereas a singular name is limited and 
 " restrained to one of the many things it signifieth ; as when 
 " we say, ,this man, pointing to him, or giving him his proper 
 " name, or by some such other way." 
 
 HOBBES'S Tripos, chap. v. 6. 
 
 f " A very material question has been started, concerning ab- 
 " stract or general ideas : Whether they be general or particu- 
 " lar in the mind's conception of them ? A great philosopher has 
 " disputed the received opinion in this particular ; and has as- 
 <f serted, that all general ideas are nothing but particular ones 
 " annexed to a certain term, which gives them a more extensive
 
 Sect. 3. F THE HUMAN MIND. 187 
 
 as he himself acknowledges, does not differ materi- 
 ally from that of Berkeley ; whom, by the way, he 
 seems to have regarded as the author of an opinion, 
 of which he was only an expositor and defender ; 
 and which, since the days of Roscelinus and Abe- 
 lard, has been familiarly known in all the universi- 
 ties of Europe. * 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the great merit of 
 these writers, in defending and illustrating the sys- 
 tem of the Nominalists, none of them seem to me 
 to have been fully aware of the important conse- 
 quences to which it leads. The Abbe de Condillac 
 was, I believe, the first (if we except, perhaps, Leib- 
 nitz) who perceived that, if this system be true, a 
 talent for reasoning must consist, in a great measure, 
 in a skilful use of language as an instrument of 
 
 " signification, and makes them recal, upon occasion, other indi- 
 " victuals, which are similar to them. As I look upon this to be 
 " one of the greatest and most valuable discoveries that have 
 " been made of late years in the republic of letters, I shall here 
 " endeavour to confirm it by some arguments, which, I hope, 
 " will put it beyond all doubt and controversy.'* 
 
 Treatise of Human Nature, book i. part i. sect. 7. 
 * Leibnitz, too, has declared himself a partisan of this sect, in 
 a dissertation " De Stilo Philosophic Marii Nizolii." This Ni- 
 zolius published a book at Parma, in the year 1553, entitled, 
 " De Veris Principiis et vera Ratione Philosophandi ;" in which 
 he opposed several of the doctrines of Aristotle, particularly his 
 opinion concerning universals. An edition of this work, with a 
 Preface and Notes, was published by Leibnitz at Frankfort, in 
 the year 1670. The Preface and Notes are to be found in the 
 fourth volume of his works, by Dutens. (Geneva, 1768.) I 
 have inserted a short extract from the former, in Note (I), at 
 the end of the volume.
 
 188 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 thought. The most valuable of his remarks on this 
 subject are contained in a treatise De V Art de 
 Perner, which forms the fourth volume of his 
 Cours d'Etude." 
 
 Dr. Campbell, too, in his Philosophy of Rhetoric, 
 has founded, on the principles of Berkeley and Hume, 
 a very curious and interesting speculation, of which 
 I shall have occasion afterwards to take notice. 
 
 The explanation which the doctrines of these wri- 
 ters afford, of the process of the mind in general rea- 
 soning, is so simple, and at the same time, in my 
 apprehension, so satisfactory, that, I own, it is with 
 some degree of surprise I have read the attempts 
 which have lately been made to revive the system 
 of the Realists. One of the ablest of these at- 
 tempts is by Dr. Price ; who, in his very valuable 
 Treatise on Morals, has not only employed his inge- 
 nuity in support of some of the old tenets of the 
 Platonic school, but has even gone so far as to fol- 
 low Plato's example, in connecting this speculation 
 about universals, with the sublime questions of na- 
 tural theology. The observations which he has of- 
 fered in support of these opinions, I have repeatedly 
 perused with all the attention inmypower; but with- 
 out being able to enter into his views, or even to com- 
 prehend fully his meaning. Indeed, 1 must ac- 
 knowledge, that it appears to me to afford no slight 
 presumption against the principles on which he pro- 
 ceeds, when I observe, that an author, remarkable, on 
 most occasions, for precision of ideas, and for per- 
 spicuity of style, never fails to lose himself in ob- 
 scurity and mystery, when he enters on these dis- 
 quisitions.
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 189 
 
 Dr. Prices's reasonings in proof of the existence 
 of universals, are the more curious, as he ac- 
 quiesces in some of Dr. Reid's conclusions with 
 respect to the ideal theory of perception. That 
 there are in the mind, images or resemblances of 
 things external, he grants to be impossible ; but 
 still he seems to suppose, that in every exertion of 
 thought, there is something immediately present to 
 the mind, which is the object of its attention. 
 " When abstract truth is contemplated, is not" 
 (says he) " the very object itself present to the 
 " mind ? When millions of intellects contemplate 
 " the equality of every angle of a semicircle to a 
 " right angle, have they not all the same object in 
 " view? Is this object nothing? or is it only an 
 " image, or kind of shadow ? These inquiries," he 
 adds, " carry our thoughts high." * 
 
 * The whole passage is as follows : ' The word idea is some- 
 " times used to signify the immediate object of the mind in 
 " thinking, considered as something in the mind, which repre- 
 " sents the real object, but is different from it. This sense of 
 " an idea is derived from the notion, that when we think of any 
 " external existence, there is something immediately present to 
 " the mind, which it contemplates distinct from the object it- 
 " self, that being at a distance. But what is this ? It is bad 
 " language to call it an image in the mind of the object. Shall 
 " we say then, that there is indeed no such thing ? But would 
 " not this be the same as to say that, when the mind is em- 
 " ployed in viewing and examining any object, which is either 
 "not present to it, or does not exist, it is employed in viewing 
 " and examining nothing, and therefore does not then think at 
 *' all? When abstract truth is contemplated, is not the very 
 "" object itself present to the mind ? When millions of intellects 
 contemplate the equality of every angle in a semicircle to a 
 ** right angle, have they not all the same object in view ? Is 
 
 2
 
 190 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 The difficulty which has appeared so puzzling to 
 this ingenious writer, is, in truth, more apparent 
 than real. In the case of Perception, Imagination, 
 and Memory, it has been already fully shewn, that 
 we have no reason to believe the existence of any 
 thing in the mind distinct from the mind itself; and 
 that, even upon the supposition that the fact were 
 otherwise, our intellectual operations would be just 
 as inexplicable as they are at present. Why then 
 should we suppose, that in our general speculations, 
 there must exist in the mind some object of its 
 thoughts, when it appears that there is no evidence 
 of the existence of any such object, even when the 
 mind is employed about individuals ? 
 
 Still, however, it may be urged, that, although, in 
 such cases, there should be no object of thought in 
 the mind, there must exist something or other to 
 which its attention is directed. To this difficulty I 
 have no answer to make, but by repeating the fact 
 which I have already endeavoured to establish ; that 
 there are only two ways in which we can possibly 
 speculate about classes of objects; the one, by 
 means of a word or generic term ; the other, by 
 means of one particular individual of the class which 
 we consider as the representative of the rest ; 
 and that these two methods of carrying on our 
 general speculations, are at bottom so much the 
 same, as to authorize us to lay down as a principle, 
 that, without the use of signs, all our thoughts must 
 have related to individuals. When we reason, 
 therefore, concerning classes or genera, the objects 
 
 " this object nothing ? or is it only an image or kind of shadow 't 
 ' These inquiries carry our thoughts high."
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 191 
 
 of our attention are merely signs ; or if, in any 
 instance, the generic word should recal some indi- 
 vidual, this circumstance is to be regarded only as 
 the consequence of an accidental association, which 
 has rather a tendency to disturb, than to assist us in 
 our reasoning. 
 
 Whether it might not have been possible for the 
 Deity to have so formed us, that we might have been 
 capable of reasoning, concerning classes of objects, 
 without the use of signs, I shall not take upon me 
 to determine. But this we may venture to affirm 
 with confidence, that man is not such a being. And, 
 indeed, even if he were, it would not therefore ne- 
 cessarily follow, that there exists anythingin agenus, 
 distinct from the individuals of which it is com- 
 posed ; for we know that the power which we have 
 of thinking of particular objects without the medium 
 of signs, does not in the least depend on their ex- 
 istence or non-existence at the moment we think of 
 them. 
 
 It would be vain, however, for us, in inquiries of 
 this nature, to indulge ourselves in speculating about 
 possibilities. It is of more consequence to remark 
 the advantages which we derive from our actual 
 constitution, and which, in the present instance, 
 appear to me to be important and admirable ; inas- 
 much as it fits mankind for an easy interchange of 
 their intellectual acquisitions ; by imposing on them 
 the necessity of employing, in. their solitary specu- 
 lations, the same instrument of thought, which forms 
 the established medium of their communications 
 with each other. 
 
 In the very slight sketch which I have given of 
 
 ii
 
 1 92 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 the controversy between the Nominalists and the 
 Realists about the existence of universals, I have 
 taken no notice of an intermediate sect called Con- 
 ceptualists ; whose distinguishing tenet is said to 
 have been, that the mind has a power of forming 
 general conceptions. * From the indistinctness 
 and inaccuracy of their language on the subject, it 
 is not a very easy matter to ascertain precisely 
 what was their opinion on the point in question ; 
 but, on the whole, I am inclined to think, that it 
 amounted to the two following propositions : first, 
 that we have no reason to believe the existence of 
 any essences, or universal ideas, corresponding to 
 general terms ; and secondly, that the mind has the 
 power of reasoning concerning genera, or classes of 
 individuals, without the mediation of language. In- 
 deed, 1 cannot think of any other hypothesis which 
 it is possible to form on the subject, distinct from 
 those of the two celebrated sects already mentioned. 
 In denying the existence of universals, we know 
 
 * " Nominates, deserta paulo Abelardi hypothesi, universalia 
 " in notionibus atque conceptibus mentis ex rebus singularibus 
 " abstractione formatis consistere statuebant, unde conceptuales 
 " dicti sunt." BRUCKER, vol. iii. p. 908. (Lips. 1766.) 
 
 ' Nominalium tres erant familiae. Aliqui ut Rocelinus, uni- 
 " versalia meras esse voces docuerunt. Alii iterum in solo in- 
 " tellectu posuerunt, atque meros animi conceptus esse autu- 
 " marunt, quos conceptuales aliqui vocant, et a nominalibus dis- 
 " tinguunt quanquam alii etiam confundant. Alii fuerunt^ui 
 " universalia quse siverunt, non tarn in vocibus, quam in sermo- 
 " nibus integris, quod Job. Sarisberiensis adscribit Pet. Abelardo ; 
 " quo quid intelligat ille, mihi non satis liquet." MORHOF. 
 Polyhistor. Tom. Sec. lib. i. cap. xiii. 2. 
 
 I have taken no notice of the last class of 'Nominalists here 
 mentioned ; as I find myself unable to comprehend their doctrine.
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. ... . 193 
 
 that the Conceptualists agreed with the Nomina- 
 lists. In what, then, can we suppose that they dif- 
 fered from them, but about the necessity of lan- 
 guage as an instrument of thought, in carrying on 
 our general speculations ? 
 
 With this sect of Conceptualists, Dr. Reid is dis- 
 posed to rank Mr. Locke ; and I agree with him so 
 far as to think, that, if Locke had any decided opi- 
 nion on the point in dispute, it did not differ mate- 
 rially from what I have endeavoured to express in 
 the two general propositions which I have just now 
 stated. The apparent inconsistencies which occur 
 in that part of his Essay in which the question is 
 discussed, have led subsequent authors to represent 
 his sentiments in different lights j but as these in- 
 consistencies plainly shew, that he was neither 
 satisfied with the system of the Realists, nor with 
 that of the Nominalists ; they appear to me to de- 
 monstrate that he leaned to the intermediate hy- 
 pothesis already mentioned, notwithstanding the 
 inaccurate and paradoxical manner in which he has 
 expressed it.* 
 
 May I take the liberty of adding, that Dr. Reid's 
 own opinion seems to me also to coincide nearly 
 with that of the Conceptualists ; or, at least, to co- 
 incide with the two propositions which I have al- 
 ready supposed to contain a summary of their doc- 
 trine? The absurdity of the ancient opinion con- 
 cerning universals, as maintained both by Plato and 
 Aristotle, he has exposed by the clearest and most 
 decisive arguments ; not to mention, that, by his 
 own very original and important speculations con- 
 * See Note [K] 
 o
 
 194 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap IV. 
 
 cerning the ideal theory, he has completely destroy- 
 ed that natural prejudice from which the whole 
 system of universal ideas gradually took rise. If, 
 even in the case of individuals, we have no reason 
 to believe the existence of any object of thought in 
 the mind, distinct from the mind itself, we are at 
 once relieved from all the difficulties in which philo- 
 sophers have involved themselves, by attempting to 
 explain, in consistency with tjiat ancient hypothesis, 
 the process of the mind in its general speculations. 
 
 On the other hand, it is no less clear, from Dr. 
 Reid's criticisms on Berkeley and Hume, that his 
 opinion does not coincide with that of the Nomi- 
 nalists ; and that the power which the mind pos- 
 sesses of reasoning concerning classes of objects, 
 appears to him to imply some faculty, of which no 
 notice is taken in the systems of these philosophers. 
 
 The long experience I have had of the candour 
 of this excellent author, encourages me to add, that, 
 in stating his opinion on the subject of universals, 
 he has not expressed himself in a manner so com- 
 pletely satisfactory to my mind, as on most other 
 occasions. That language is not an essential instru- 
 ment of thought in our general reasonings, he has 
 no where positively asserted. At the same time, as 
 he has not affirmed the contrary, and as he has de- 
 clared himself dissatisfied with the doctrines of 
 Berkeley and Hume, his readers are naturally led 
 to copclude, that this is his real opinion on the sub- 
 ject. His silence on this point is the more to be 
 regretted, as it is the only point about which there 
 can be any reasonable controversy among those who 
 allow his refutation of the ideal hypothesis to be sa-
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 195 
 
 tisfactory. In consequence of that refutation, the 
 whole dispute between the Realists and the Concep- 
 tualists falls at once to the ground ; but the dispute 
 between the Conceptualists and the Nominalists 
 (which involves the great question concerning the 
 use of signs in general speculation) remains on the 
 same footing as before. 
 
 In order to justify his own expressions concerning 
 universals ; and in opposition to the language of 
 Berkeley and Hume, Dr. Reid is at pains to illus- 
 trate a distinction between conception and ima- 
 gination, which, he thinks, has not been sufficiently 
 attended to by philosophers. " An universal," says 
 he, " is not an object of any external sense, and 
 " therefore cannot be imagined ; but it may be dis- 
 " tinctly conceived. When Mr. Pope says, " The 
 " proper study of mankind is man ;" I conceive his 
 " meaning distinctly ; although I neither imagine a 
 " black or a white, a crooked or a straight man. I 
 " can conceive a thing that is impossible ; but 
 " I cannot distinctly imagine a thing that is impos- 
 " sible. I can conceive a proposition or a demon- 
 " stration, but I cannot imagine either. I can con- 
 " ceive understanding and will, virtue and vice, and 
 " other attributes of the mind ; but I cannot ima- 
 " gine them. In like manner, I can distinctly con- 
 " ceive universals ; but I cannot imagine them."* 
 
 It appears from this passage, that, by conceiving 
 universals, Dr. Reid means nothing more than un- 
 derstanding the meaning of propositions involving 
 general terms. But the observations he has made 
 (admitting them in their full extent) do not in the 
 
 * P. 482. 
 o C 2
 
 196 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 least affect the question about the necessity of signs, 
 to enable us to speculate about such propositions. 
 The vague use which metaphysical writers have 
 made of the word conception, (of which I had occa- 
 sion to take notice in a former chapter,) has con- 
 tributed in part to embarrass this subject. That we 
 cannot conceive universals in a way at all analogous 
 to that in which we conceive an absent object of 
 sense, is granted on both sides. Why then should we 
 employ the same word conception, to express two ope- 
 rations of the mind which are essentially different? 
 When we speak of conceiving or understanding a 
 general proposition, we mean nothing more than 
 that we have a conviction, (founded on our previous 
 use of the words in which it is expressed,) that we 
 have it in our power, at pleasure, to substitute, in- 
 stead of the general terms, some one of the indivi- 
 duals comprehended under them. When we hear 
 a proposition announced, of which the terms are 
 not familiar to us ; we naturally desire to have it 
 exemplified, or illustrated, by means of some parti- 
 cular instance ; and when we are once satisfied by 
 such an application, that we have the interpretation 
 of the proposition at all times in our power, we 
 make no scruple to say, that we conceive or under- 
 stand its meaning j although we should not extend 
 our views beyond the words in which it is announ- 
 ced, or even although no particular exemplification 
 of it should occur to us at the moment. It is in 
 this sense only, that the terms of any general pro- 
 position can possibly be understood : and therefore 
 Dr. Reid's argument does not, in the least, invali- 
 date the doctrine of the Nominalists, that, without
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 197 
 
 the use of language, (under which term I compre- 
 hend every species of signs,) we should never have 
 been able to extend our speculations beyond indi- 
 viduals. 
 
 That, in many cases, we may safely employ in our 
 reasonings, general terms, the meaning of which we 
 are not even able to interpret in this way, and con* 
 sequently which are to us wholly insignificant, 
 J had occasion already to demonstrate, in a former 
 part of this section. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Inferences with respect to the 
 Use of Language as an Instrument of Thought, and the Errors 
 in Reasoning to "which it occasionally gives rise. 
 
 IN the last Section, I mentioned Dr. Campbell, as 
 an ingenious defender of the system of the Nomi- 
 nalists ; and I alluded to a particular application 
 which he has made of their doctrine. The reason- 
 ings which I had then in view, are to be found in the 
 seventh chapter of the second book of his Philoso- 
 phy of Rhetoric ; in which chapter he proposes to 
 explain how it happens, " that nonsense so often 
 " escapes being detected, both by the writer and 
 " the reader." The title is somewhat ludicrous in 
 a grave philosophical work ; but the disquisition to 
 which it is prefixed, contains many acute and pro- 
 found remarks on the nature and power of signs, 
 both as a medium of communication, and as an in- 
 strument of thought. 
 
 Dr. Campbell's speculations with respect to lan- 
 guage as an instrument of thought, seem to have 
 
 o 3
 
 198 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 been suggested by the following passage in Mr. 
 Hume's Treatise of Human Nature. " I believe, 
 " every one who examines the situation of his mind 
 " in reasoning, will agree with me, that we do not an- 
 " nex distinct and complete ideas to every term we 
 " make use of; and that in talking of Government, 
 " Church, Negotiation, Conquest, we seldom spread 
 " out in our minds all the simple ideas of which 
 " these complex ones are composed. It is, how- 
 " ever, observable, that notwithstanding this im- 
 " perfection, we may avoid talking nonsense on 
 " these subjects ; and may perceive any repugnance 
 " among the ideas, as well as if we had a full com- 
 " prehension of them. Thus if, instead of saying, 
 " that, in war, the weaker have always recourse to 
 " negotiation, we should say, that they have always 
 " recourse to conquest ; the custom which we have 
 " acquired, of attributing certain relations to ideas, 
 " still follows the words, and makes us immediately 
 " perceive the absurdity of that proposition.*' 
 
 In the remarks which Dr. Campbell has made on 
 this passage, he has endeavoured to explain in 
 what manner our habits of thinking and speaking, 
 gradually establish in the mind such relations among 
 the words we employ, as enable us to carry on pro- 
 cesses of reasoning by means of them, without at- 
 tending in every instance to their particular sig- 
 nification. With most of his remarks on this sub- 
 ject I perfectly agree ; but the illustrations he gives 
 of them, are of too great extent to be introduced 
 here ; and I would not wish to run the risk of im- 
 pairing their perspicuity, by attempting to abridge 
 them. I must therefore refer such of my readers
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 199 
 
 as wish to prosecute the speculation, to his very 
 ingenious and philosophical treatise. 
 
 " In consequence of these circumstances, 5 ' (says 
 Dr. Campbell,) " it happens that, in matters which 
 " are perfectly familiar to us, we are able to reason 
 " by means of words, without examining, in every 
 " instance, their signification. Almost all the pos- 
 " sible applications of the terms (in other words, 
 " all the acquired relations of the signs) have be- 
 " come customary to us. The consequence is, 
 " that an unusual application of any term is in- 
 " stantly detected ; this detection breeds doubt, 
 " and this doubt occasions an immediate recourse 
 " to ideas. The recourse of the mind,, when in any 
 " degree puzzled with the signs, to the knowledge 
 " it has of the things signified, is natural, and on 
 " such subjects perfectly easy. And of this re- 
 " course the discovery of the meaning, or of the 
 " unmeaningness of what is said, is the immediate 
 " effect. But in matters that' are by no means 
 " familiar, or are treated in an uncommon man- 
 " ner, and in such as are of an abstruse and in- 
 " tricate nature, the case is widely different." The 
 instances in which we are chiefly liable to be im- 
 posed on by words without meaning are, (accord- 
 ing to Dr. Campbell,) the three following : 
 
 First, Where there is an exuberance of meta- 
 phor. 
 
 Secondly, When the terms most frequently oc- 
 curring, denote things which are of a complicated 
 nature, and to which the mind is not sufficiently 
 familiarised. Such are the words, Government, 
 Church, State, Constitution, Polity, Power, Com- 
 
 o 4
 
 200 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 merce, Legislature, Jurisdiction, Proportion, Sym- 
 metry, Elegance. 
 
 Thirdly, When the terms employed are very ab- 
 stract, and consequently of very extensive signifi- 
 cation. * For an illustration of these remarks, I 
 must refer the reader to the ingenious work which 
 I just now quoted. 
 
 To the observations of these eminent writers, I 
 shall take the liberty of adding, that we are doubly 
 liable to the mistakes they mention, when we make 
 use of a language which is not perfectly familiar to 
 us. Nothing, indeed, I apprehend, can shew more 
 clearly the use we make of words in reasoning than 
 this, that an observation which, when expressed in 
 our own language, seems trite or frivolous, often 
 acquires the appearance of depth and originality, 
 by being translated into another. For my own 
 part, at least, I am conscious of having been 
 frequently led, in this way, to form an exag- 
 gerated idea of the merits of ancient and of foreign 
 authors^ and it has happened to me more than 
 
 * " The more general any word is in its signification, it is the 
 " more liable to be abused by an improper or unmeaning ap- 
 " plication. A very general term is applicable alike to a mul- 
 " titude of different individuals, a particular term is applicable 
 " but to a few. When the rightful applications of a word are 
 " extremely numerous, they cannot all be so strongly fixed 
 " by habit, but that, for greater security, we must perpetu- 
 " ally recur in our minds from the sign to the notion we have of 
 " the thing signified ; and, for the reason aforementioned, it is 
 " in such instances difficult precisely to ascertain this notion. 
 *' Thus the latitude of a word, though different from its ambi- 
 ' guity, hath often a similar effect." Philosophy of Rhetoric, 
 vol. ii. p. 122.
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND, 201 
 
 once, that a sentence, which seemed at first to 
 contain something highly ingenious and profound, 
 when translated into words familiar to me, ap- 
 peared obviously to be a trite or a nugatory pro- 
 position. 
 
 The effect produced by an artificial and inverted 
 style in our own language, is similar to what we ex- 
 perience when we read a composition in a foreign 
 one. The eye is too much dazzled to see distinctly. 
 Aliud styli genus," (says Bacon,) " totum in eo 
 ' est, ut verba sint aculeata, sententise concisae, 
 " oratio denique potius versa qua in fusa, quo fit, ut 
 " omnia, per hujusmodi artificium, magis ingeniosa 
 " videantur quam re vera sint. Tale invenitur in 
 " Seneca effusius, in Tacito et Plinio secundo mo- 
 " deratius." 
 
 The deranged collocation of the words in Latin 
 composition, aids powerfully the imposition we have 
 now been considering, and renders that language 
 an inconvenient medium of philosophical communi- 
 cation ; as well as an inconvenient instrument of 
 accurate thought. Indeed, in all languages in which 
 this latitude in the arrangement of words is ad- 
 mitted, the associations among words must be 
 looser, than where one invariable order is followed; 
 and of consequence, on the principles of Hume and 
 Campbell, the mistakes which are committed in rea- 
 sonings expressed in such languages, will not be so 
 readily detected. 
 
 The errors in reasoning, to which we are exposed 
 in consequence of the use of words as an instrument 
 of thought, will appear the less surprising, when we 
 consider that all the languages which have hitherto
 
 202 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 existed in the world, have derived their origin from 
 popular use ; and that their application to philoso- 
 phical purposes, was altogether out of the view of 
 those men who first employed them. Whether it 
 might not be possible to invent a language, which 
 would at once facilitate' philosophical communi- 
 cation, and form a more convenient instrument of 
 reasoning and of invention, than those we possess 
 at present, is a question of very difficult discussion ; 
 and upon which I ,shall not presume to offer an 
 opinion. The failure of Wilkins's very ingenious 
 attempt towards a real character, and a philosophi- 
 cal language, is not perhaps decisive against such a 
 project ; for, not to mention some radical defects 
 in his plan, the views of that very eminent philo- 
 sopher do not seem to have extended much farther 
 than to promote and extend the literary intercourse 
 among different nations. Leibnitz, so far as I know, 
 is the only author who has hitherto conceived the 
 possibility of aiding the powers of invention and of 
 reasoning, by the use of a more convenient instru- 
 ment of thought ; but he has no where explained 
 his ideas on this very interesting subject. It is only 
 from a conversation of his with Mr. Boyle and Mr. 
 Oldenburgh, when he was in England in 1673, and 
 from some imperfect hints in different parts of his 
 works*, that we find it had engaged his attention. 
 In the course of this conversation he observed, that 
 Wilkins had mistaken the true end of a real charac- 
 ter, which was not merely to enable different nations 
 to correspond easily together, but to assist the rea- 
 
 * See Note
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 203 
 
 son, the invention, and the memory. In his writings, 
 too, he somewhere speaks of an alphabet of human 
 thoughts, which he had been employed in forming, 
 and which, probably, (as Fontenelle has remarked,) 
 had some relation to his universal language. * 
 
 The new nomenclature which has been intro- 
 duced into chymistry, seems to me to furnish a 
 striking illustration of the effect of appropriated 
 and well-defined expressions, in aiding the intel- 
 lectual powers j and the period is probably not far 
 distant, when similar innovations will be attempted 
 in some of the other sciences. 
 
 * " M. Leibnitz avoit concu le projet d'une langue philoso- 
 (t phique et universelle. Wilkins Eveque de Chester, etDalgarno, 
 " y avoient travaille" ; mais de"s le terns qu'il 6toit en Angleterre, 
 " il avoit dit a Messieurs Boyle et d'Oldenbourg qu'il ne croyoit 
 " pas que ces grands hommes eussent encore frappe au but. Ils 
 <{ pouvoient bien faire que des nations qui ne s'entendoient pas 
 *' eussent aisement commerce, mais ils n'avoient pas attrappe 
 " les v6ritables caracteres reels, qui 6toient 1'instrument le plus 
 " fin dont 1'esprit humain se put servir, et qui devoient extre"me- 
 " ment faciliter et le raisonnement, et la memoire, et 1'invention 
 ' des choses. Ils devoient ressembler, autant qu'il etoit possible, 
 " aux caracteres d'algebre, qui en effet sont tres simples, et tres 
 " expressifs, qui n'ont jamais ni superfluite, ni equivoque, et 
 " dont toutes les vari^tes sont raisonnees. II a parle en quelque 
 " endroit, d'un alphabet des pensees humaines, qu'il meditoit. 
 " Selon toutes les apparences, cet alphabet avoit rapport a sa 
 " langue universelle." Eloge de M. LEIBNITZ par M.de FON- 
 TENELLE.
 
 20* ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 SECTION V, 
 
 Of the Purposes to 'which the Powers of Abstraction and Gene* 
 ralisation are subservient. 
 
 IT has been already shewn, that, without the use of 
 signs, all our knowledge must necessarily have been 
 limited to individuals, and that we should have been 
 perfectly incapable both of classification and general 
 seasoning. Some authors have maintained, that 
 without the power of generalisation, (which I have 
 endeavoured to shew, means nothing more than the 
 capacity of employing general terms,) it would have 
 been impossible for us to have carried on any species 
 of reasoning whatever. But I cannot help think- 
 ing that this opinion is erroneous ; or, at least, that 
 it is very imperfectly stated. The truth is, it ap- 
 pears to me to be just in one sense of the word 
 reasoning, but false in another ; and I even suspect 
 it is false in that sense of the word in which it is 
 most commonly employed. Before, therefore, it is 
 laid down as a general proposition, the meaning we 
 are to annex to this very vague and ambiguous 
 term, should be ascertained with precision. 
 
 It has been remarked by several writers, that the 
 expectation which we feel of the continuance of the 
 laws of nature, is not founded upon reasoning ; and 
 different theories have of late been proposed to ac- 
 count for its origin. Mr. Hume resolves it into the 
 association of ideas. Dr. Reid, on the other hand, 
 maintains, that it is an original principle of our con-
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN- MIND. 205 
 
 stitution, which does not admit of any explanation ; 
 and which, therefore, is to be ranked among those 
 general and ultimate facts, beyond which philosophy 
 is unable to proceed.* Without this principle of 
 expectation, it would be impossible for us to accom- 
 modate our conduct to the established course of na- 
 ture ; and, accordingly, we find that it is a principle 
 coeval with our very existence ; and, in some mea- 
 sure, common to man with the lower animals. 
 
 * In inquiries of this nature, so far removed from the common 
 course of literary pursuits, it always gives me pleasure to remark 
 a coincidence of opinion among different philosophers ; particu- 
 larly among men of original genius, and who have been educated 
 in different philosophical systems. The following passage, in 
 which M. de Condorcet gives an account of some of the meta- 
 physical opinions of the late Mr. Turgot, approaches very nearly 
 to Dr. Reid's doctrines. 
 
 " La m^moire de nos sensations, et la facult que nous avons 
 " de re"flechir sur ces sensations passe"es et de les combiner, sont 
 *< le seul principe de nos connoissances. La supposition qu'il 
 " existe des loix constantes auxquelles tout les phenomenes ob- 
 " serve's sont assujettis de maniere a reparoitre dans tous les 
 " temps, dans toutes les circonstances, tels qu'ils'sont determines 
 " par ces loix, est le seul fondement de la certitude de ces con- 
 " noissances. 
 
 " Nous avons la conscience d'avoir observe" cette Constance, et 
 " un sentiment involontaire nous force de croire qu'elle conti- 
 " nuera de subsister. La probabilite qui en resulte, quelque 
 < grande qu'elle soit, n'est pas une certitude. Aucune relation 
 " ne"cessaire ne lie pour nous le passe a 1'avenir, ni la Constance 
 " de ce que j'ai vu a celle de ce que j'aurois continue d'observer 
 ' si j'6tois reste" dans des circonstances semblables ; mais 1'im- 
 " pression qui me porte & regarder comme existant, comme rel 
 ** ce qui m'a pre'sente' ce caractere de Constance est irre"sist- 
 " ible." Vie de TURGOT, partie ii. p. 56. 
 
 *' Quand un Francois et un Anglois pensent de meme, (says 
 <{ Voltaire, ) il faut bien qu'ils aient raison."
 
 206 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 It is an obvious consequence of this doctrine, that, 
 although philosophers be accustomed to state what 
 are commonly called the laws of nature, in the form 
 of general propositions, it is by no means necessary 
 for the practical purposes of life, that we should ex- 
 press them in this manner ; or even that we should 
 express them in words at all. The philosopher, for 
 example, may state it as a law of nature, that "fire 
 scorches ;" or that, " heavy bodies, when unsupport- 
 ed, fall downwards :" but, long before the use of 
 artificial signs, and even before the dawn of reason, 
 a child learns to act upon both of these suppositions. 
 In doing so, it is influenced merely by the instinctive 
 principle which has now been mentioned, directed 
 in its operation (as is the case with many other in- 
 stincts) by the experience of the individual. If man, 
 therefore, had been destined for no other purposes, 
 than to acquire such an acquaintance with the 
 course of nature, as is necessary for the preserv- 
 ation of his animal existence ; he might have ful- 
 filled all the ends of his being without the use of 
 language. 
 
 As we are enabled, by our instinctive anticipation 
 of physical events, to accommodate our conduct to 
 what we foresee is to happen, so we are enabled, in 
 many cases, to increase our power, by employing 
 physical causes as instruments for the accomplish- 
 ment of our purposes ; nay, we can employ a series 
 of such causes, so as to accomplish very remote ef- 
 fects. We can employ the agency of air, to increase 
 the heat of a furnace ; the furnace, to render iron, 
 malleable ; and the iron to all the various purposes 
 of the mechanical arts. Now, it appears to me,that
 
 S ect . 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 207 
 
 all this may be conceived and done without the aid 
 of language : and yet, assuredly, to discover a series 
 of means subservient to a particular end ; or, in 
 other words, an effort of mechanical invention ; im- 
 plies, according to the common doctrines of philoso- 
 phers, the exercise of our reasoning powers. In this 
 sense, therefore, of the word reasoning, I am inclined 
 to think, that it is not essentially connected with the 
 faculty of generalisation, or with the use of signs. 
 
 It is some confirmation of this conclusion, that 
 savages, whose minds are almost wholly occupied 
 with particulars, and who have neither inclination 
 nor capacity for general speculations, are yet occa- 
 sionally observed to employ a long train of means 
 for accomplishing a particular purpose. Even some- 
 thing of this kind, but in a very inferior degree, may, 
 I think, be remarked in the other animals ; arid that 
 they do not carry it farther, is probably not the ef- 
 fect of' their want of generalisation, but of the im- 
 perfection of some of those faculties which are 
 common to them with our species ; particularly of 
 their powers of attention and recollection. The in- 
 stances which are commonly produced, to prove that 
 they are not destitute of the power of reasoning, 
 are all examples of that species of contrivance which 
 has been mentioned j and are perfectly distinct from 
 those intellectual processes to which the use of signs 
 is essentially subservient. * 
 
 i i 
 
 * One of the best attested instances which I have met with, of 
 sagacity in the lower animals, is mentioned by M. Bailly, in his 
 Lettre sur les Animaux, addressed to M. Le Roy : 
 
 ' Un de mes amis, homme d'esprit et digne de confiance, m'a 
 " raconte deux faits dont il a 6ti temoin. II avoit un singe tres
 
 208 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV, 
 
 Whether that particular species of mechanical con- 
 trivance which has now been mentioned, and which 
 consists merely in employing a series of physical 
 causes to accomplish an effect which we cannot pro- 
 duce immediately, should or should not be dignified 
 with the name of reasoning, I shall not now inquire. 
 It is sufficient for my present purpose to remark, that 
 it is essentially different from those intellectual pro- 
 cesses to which the use of signs is indispensably ne- 
 
 " intelligent; il s'amusoit & lui dormer des noix dont 1'animal e"toit 
 " Ire's friand ; mais il les pla9oit assez loin, pour que retenu par sa 
 << chafoe, le singe ne put pas les atteindre : apres bien des efforts 
 " inutiles qui ne servent qu'a prlparer 1'invention, le singe, 
 " voyant passer un domestiqueportantun serviette sous lebras, 
 " se saisit de cette serviette, et s'en servit pour atteindre a la 
 " noix et 1'amener jusqu'a lui. La maniere de casser la noix 
 " exigea une nouvelle invention ; il en vint a bout, en placant la 
 " noix a terre, en y faisant tomber de haut une pierre ou un 
 " caillou pour la briser. Vous voyez, Monsieur, que sans avoir 
 " connu, comme Gallilee, les loix de la chute des corps, le singe 
 " avoit bien remarqug la force que ces corps acquierent par la 
 " chute. Ce moyen cependant se trouva en defaut. Un jour 
 *' qu'il avoit plu, la terre 6toit molle, la noix enfoncoit, et la pierre 
 " n'avoit plus d'action pour la briser. Que fit le singe ? II alia 
 " chercher un tuileau, plaga la noix dessus, et en laissant torn- 
 
 " ber la pierre il brisa la noix qui n'enfongoit plus." Discours 
 
 " et memoires par I'Auteur de I'Histoire de I' Astronomic. A Paris, 
 1790, tomeii. p. 126. 
 
 Admitting these facts to be accurately stated, they still leave 
 an essential distinction between man and brutes ; for in none of 
 thq contrivances here mentioned, is there any thing analogous to 
 those intellectual processes which lead the mind to general conclu- 
 sions, and which (according to the foregoing doctrine) imply the 
 use of general terms. Those powers, therefore, which enable u* 
 to classify objects, and to employ signs as an instrument of thought, 
 are, as far as we can judge, peculiar to the human species. 
 
 3
 
 g ect> 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 209 
 
 cessary. At the same time, I am ready to ac- 
 knowledge, that what I have nowsaid, is not strictly 
 applicable to those more complicated mechanical 
 inventions, in which a variety of powers are made 
 to conspire at once to produce a particular effect. 
 Such contrivances, perhaps, may be found to in- 
 volve processes of the mind which cannot be car- 
 ried on without signs. But these questions will fall 
 more properly under our consideration when we 
 enter on the subject of reasoning. 
 
 In general, it may be remarked, that, in so far as 
 our thoughts relate merely to individual objects, or 
 to individual events, which we have actually per- 
 ceived, and of which we retain a distinct remem- 
 brance *, we are not under the necessity of employ - 
 
 * I have thought it proper to add this limitation of the general 
 proposition ; because individual objects, and individual events, 
 which have not fallen under the examination of our senses, can- 
 not possibly be made the subjects of our consideration, but by 
 means of language. The manner in which we think of such ob- 
 jects and events, is accurately described in the following passage 
 ofWollaston; however unphilosophical the conclusion maybe 
 which he deduces from his reasoning. 
 
 " A man is not known ever the more to posterity, because 
 " his name is transmitted to them ; he doth not live, because his 
 " name does. When it is said, Julius Caesar subdued Gaul, 
 " beat Pompey, changed the Roman commonwealth into amo- 
 " narchy, &c. it is the same thing as to say the conqueror of 
 " Pompey was Caesar; that is, Caesar, and the conqueror of 
 " Pompey, are the same thing ; and Caesar is as much known 
 " by the one distinction as the other. The amount then is only 
 " this : that the conqueror of Pompey conquerecl Pompey ; or 
 " somebody conquered Pompey ; or rather, since Pompey is as 
 " little known now as Caesar, somebody conquered somebody. 
 " Such a poor business is this boasted immortality ; and such as 
 " has been here described, is the thing called glory among us !'' 
 
 Religion of NAT. DEL, p. 1 17. 
 
 P
 
 210 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 ing words. It frequently, however, happens, that 
 when the subjects of our consideration are parti- 
 cular, our reasoning with respect to them may in- 
 volve very general notions ; and, in such cases, al- 
 though we may conceive, without the use of words, 
 the things about which we reason, yet we must ne- 
 cessarily have recourse to language in carrying on 
 our speculations concerning them. If the subjects 
 of our reasoning be general, (under which descrip- 
 tion I include all our reasonings, whether more or 
 less comprehensive, which do not relate merely to 
 individuals,) words are the sole objects about which 
 our thoughts are employed. According as these 
 words are comprehensive or limited in their signifi- 
 cation, the conclusions we form will be more or less 
 general j but this accidental circumstance does not 
 in the least affect the nature of the intellectual process; 
 so that it may be laid down as a proposition which 
 holds without any exception, that, in every case in 
 which we extend our speculations beyond individuals, 
 language is not only an useful auxiliary, but is the 
 sole instrument by which they are carried on. 
 
 These remarks naturally lead me to take notice of 
 what forms the characteristical distinction between 
 the speculations of the philosopher and of the vul- 
 gar. It is not, that the former is accustomed to 
 carry on his processes of reasoning to a greater ex- 
 tent than the latter j but that the conclusions he is 
 accustomed to form, are far more comprehensive, in 
 consequence of the habitual employment of more 
 comprehensive terms. Among the most unenlight- 
 ened of mankind, we often meet with individuals 
 who possess the reasoning faculty in a very eminent
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 211 
 
 degree ; but as this faculty is employed merely about 
 particulars, it never can conduct them to general 
 truths ; and, of consequence, whether their pursuits 
 in life lead them to speculation or to action, it can 
 only fit them for distinguishing themselves in some 
 very limited and subordinate sphere. The philo- 
 sopher, whose mind has been familiarised by edu- 
 cation, and by his own reflexions, to the correct use 
 of more comprehensive terms, is enabled, without 
 perhaps a greater degree of intellectual exertion 
 than is necessary for managing the details of ordi- 
 nary business, to arrive at general theorems ; which, 
 when illustrated to the lower classes of men, in their 
 particular applications, seem to indicate a fertility 
 of invention, little short of supernatural. * 
 
 The analogy of the algebraical art may be of use 
 in illustrating these observations. The difference, 
 in fact, between the investigations we carry on by 
 its assistance, and other processes of reasoning, is 
 more inconsiderable than is commonly imagined ; 
 and, if I am not mistaken, amounts only to this, 
 
 * " General reasonings seem intricate, merely because they 
 " are general ; nor is it easy for the bulk of mankind to distin- 
 " guish, in a great number of particulars, that common 
 " circumstance in which they all agree, or to extract it, pure 
 " and unmixt, from the other superfluous circumstances. Every 
 " judgment or conclusion with them is particular. They cannot 
 " enlarge their view to those universal propositions, which com- 
 *' prehend under them an infinite number of individuals, and in- 
 " elude a whole science in a single theorem. Their eye is con- 
 *' founded with such an extensive prospect, and the conclusions 
 x< derived from it, even though clearly expressed, seem intricate 
 " and obscure." 
 
 HUME'S Political Discourses. 
 
 p 2
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 that thft former are expressed in an appropriated 
 language, with which we are not accustomed to as- 
 sociate particular notions. Hence they exhibit the 
 efficacy of signs as an instrument of thought in a 
 more distinct and palpable manner, than the specu- 
 lations we carry on by words, which are continually 
 awakening the power of Conception. 
 
 When the celebrated Vieta shewed algebraists 
 that, by substituting in their investigations letters 
 of the alphabet, instead of known quantities, they 
 might render the solution of every problem subser- 
 vient to the discovery of a general truth, he did 
 not increase the difficulty of algebraical reasonings : 
 he only enlarged the signification of the terms of 
 which they were expressed. And if, in teaching 
 that science, it is found expedient to accustom stu- 
 dents to solve problems by means of the particular 
 numbers which are given, before they are made ac- 
 quainted with literal or specious arithmetic, it is 
 not because the former processes are less intricate 
 than the latter, but because their scope and utility 
 are more obvious, and because it is more easy to 
 illustrate, by examples than by words, the differ- 
 ence between a particular conclusion and a general 
 theorem. 
 
 The difference between the intellectual processes 
 of the vulgar and of the philosopher, is perfectly 
 analogous to that between the two states of the al- 
 gebraical art before and after the time of Vieta ; 
 the general terms which are used in the various 
 sciences, giving to those who can employ them with 
 correctness and dexterity, the same sort of advan- 
 tage over the uncultivated sagacity of the bulk of
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 mankind, which the expert algebraist possesses over 
 the arithmetical accomptant. 
 
 If the foregoing doctrine be admitted as just, it 
 exhibits a view of the utility of language, which 
 appears to me to be peculiarly striking and beau- 
 tiful ; as it shews that the same faculties which, 
 without the use of signs, must necessarily have been 
 limited to the consideration of individual objects 
 and particular events, are, by means of signs, fitted 
 to embrace, without effort, those comprehensive 
 theorems, to the discovery of which, in detail, the 
 united efforts of the whole human race would have 
 been unequal. The advantage our animal strength 
 acquires by the use of mechanical engines, exhi- 
 bits but a faint image of that increase of our in- 
 tellectual capacity which we owe to language. It 
 is this increase of our natural powers of compre- 
 hension, which seems to be the principal found- 
 ation of the pleasure we receive from the discovery 
 of general theorems. Such a discovery gives us at 
 once the command of an infinite variety of parti- 
 cular truths, and communicates to the mind a sen- 
 timent of its own power, not unlike to what we 
 feel when we contemplate the magnitude of those 
 physical effects, of which we have acquired the 
 command by our mechanical contrivances. 
 
 It may perhaps appear, at first, to be a farther 
 consequence of the principles I have been endea- 
 vouring to establish, that the difficulty of philoso- 
 phical discoveries is much less than is commonly 
 imagined ; but the truth is, it only follows from 
 them, that this difficulty is of a different nature 
 from what we are apt to suppose, on a superficial 
 
 p 3
 
 214 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 view of the subject. To employ, with skill, the 
 very delicate instrument which nature has made 
 essentially subservient to general reasoning, and to 
 guard against the errors which result from an inju- 
 dicious use of it, require an uncommon capacity of 
 patient attention, and a cautious circumspection in 
 conducting our various intellectual processes, which 
 can only be acquired by early habits of philoso- 
 phical reflexion. To assist and direct us in making 
 this acquisition ought to form the most important 
 branch of a rational logic ; a science of far more 
 extensive utility, and of which the principles lie 
 much deeper in the philosophy of the human mind, 
 than the trifling art which is commonly dignified 
 with that name. The branch in particular to which 
 the foregoing observations more immediately relate, 
 must for ever remain in its infancy, till a most dif- 
 ficult and important desideratum in the history of 
 the mind is supplied, by an explanation of the gra- 
 dual steps by which it acquires the use of the va- 
 rious classes of words which compose the language 
 of a cultivated and enlightened people. Of some 
 of the errors of reasoning to which we are exposed 
 by an incautious use of words, I took notice in the 
 preceding Section ; and I shall have occasion after- 
 wards to treat the same subject more in detail in a 
 subsequent part of my work.
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 215 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Of the Errors to ivhich iae are liable in Speculation, and in the 
 conduct of Affairs, in consequence of a rash Application of ge- 
 neral Principles. 
 
 IT appears sufficiently from the reasonings which 
 I offered in the preceding Section, how important 
 are the advantages which the philosopher acquires, 
 by quitting the study of particulars, and directing 
 his attention to general principles. I flatter my- 
 self it appears farther, from the same reasonings, 
 that it is in consequence of the use of language 
 alone that the human mind is rendered capable of 
 these comprehensive speculations. 
 
 En order, however, to proceed with safety in the 
 use of general principles, much caution and ad- 
 dress are necessary, both in establishing their truth, 
 and in applying them to practice. Without a proper 
 attention to the circumstances by which their ap- 
 plication to particular cases must be modified, they 
 will be a perpetual source of mistake, and of disap- 
 pointment, in the conduct of affairs, however ri- 
 gidly just they may be in themselves, and however 
 accurately we may reason from them. If our ge- 
 neral principles happen to be false, they will in- 
 volve us in errors, not only of conduct but of 
 speculation ; and our errors will be the more nume- 
 rous, the more comprehensive the principles are on 
 which we proceed.
 
 216 ELEMENTS, OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 To illustrate these observations fully, would lead 
 to a minuteness of disquisition inconsistent with my 
 general plan ; and I shall therefore, at present, con- 
 fine myself to such remarks as appear to be of most 
 essential importance. 
 
 And, in the first place, it is evidently impossible 
 to establish solid general principles, without the 
 previous study of particulars : in other words, it is 
 necessary to begin with the examination of indi- 
 vidual objects, and individual events ; in order to 
 lay a ground-work for accurate classification, and 
 for a just investigation of the laws of nature. -It 
 is in this way only that we can expect to arrive at 
 general principles, which may be safely relied on, 
 as guides to the knowledge of particular truths : 
 and unless our principles admit of such a practical 
 application, however beautiful they may appear to 
 be in theory, they are of far less value than the 
 limited acquisitions of the vulgar. The truth of 
 these remarks is now so universally admitted, and 
 is indeed so obvious in itself, that it would be su- 
 perfluous to multiply words in supporting them ; 
 and I should scarcely have thought of stating them 
 in this Chapter, if some of the most celebrated phi- 
 losophers of antiquity had not been led to dispute 
 them, in consequence of the mistaken opinions 
 which they entertained concerning the nature of 
 universals. Forgetting that genera and species are 
 mere arbitrary creations which the human mind 
 forms, by withdrawing the attention from the dis- 
 tinguishing qualities of objects, and giving a com- 
 mon name to their resembling qualities, they con- 
 ceive universals to be real existences, or (as they 
 4
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 expressed it) to be the essences of individuals ; and 
 flattered themselves with the belief, that by direct- 
 ing their attention to these essences in the first in- 
 stance, they might be enabled to penetrate the se- 
 crets of the universe, without submitting to the 
 study of nature in detail. These errors, which were 
 common to the Platonists and the Peripatetics, and 
 which both of them seem to have adopted from the 
 Pythagorean school, contributed, perhaps more 
 than any thing else, to retard the progress of the 
 ancients in physical knowledge. The late learned 
 Mr. Harris is almost the only author of the present 
 age, who has ventured to defend this plan of philo- 
 sophising, in opposition to that which has been so 
 successfully followed by the disciples of lord 
 Bacon. 
 
 " The Platonists," says he, " considering sci- 
 " ence as something ascertained, definite, and 
 " steady, would admit nothing to be its object 
 " which was vague, indefinite, and passing. For 
 " this reason they excluded all individuals or ob- 
 " jects of sense, and (as Ammonius expresses it) 
 " raised themselves in their contemplations from. 
 " beings particular to beings universal, and which, 
 " from their own nature, were eternal and defi- 
 " nite." " Consonant to this was the advice of 
 " Plato, with respect to the progress of our specu- 
 " lations and inquiries, to descend from those 
 " higher genera, which include many subordinate 
 " species, down to the lowest rank of species, those 
 " which include only individuals. But here it 
 " was his opinion, that our inquiries should stop, 
 " and, as to individuals, let them wholly alone 5 be-
 
 218 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 " cause of these there could not possibly be any 
 " science.'* * 
 
 "Such," continues this author, " was the me- 
 " thod of ancient philosophy. The fashion, at pre- 
 " sent, appears to be somewhat altered, and the 
 " business of philosophers to be little else, than the 
 " collecting from every quarter, into voluminous 
 " records, an infinite number of sensible, particular, 
 " and unconnected facts, the chief effect of which 
 " is to excite our admiration." In another part 
 of his works the same author observes, that " the 
 " mind, truly wise, quitting the study of particu- 
 " lars, as knowing their multitude to be infinite and 
 " incomprehensible, turns its intellectual eye to 
 " what is general and comprehensive, and through 
 " generals learns to see, and recognise whatever 
 " exists," t 
 
 If we abstract from these obvious errors of tbe 
 ancient philosophers, with respect to the proper 
 order to be observed in our inquiries, and only 
 suppose them to end where the Platonists said that 
 they should begin, the magnificent encomiums they 
 bestowed on the utility of those comprehensive 
 truths which form the object of science (making 
 allowance for the obscure and mysterious terms in 
 which they expressed them) can scarcely be re- 
 garded as extravagant. It is probable that from a 
 few accidental instances of successful investigation, 
 they had been struck with the wonderful effect of 
 general principles in increasing the intellectual 
 
 * HARRIS'S Three Treatises, pages 341, 342. 
 f Ibid, page 227.
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 power of the human mind ; and, misled by that im- 
 patience in the study of particulars which is so often 
 connected with the consciousness of superior ability, 
 they laboured to persuade themselves, that, by a 
 life devoted to abstract meditation, such principles 
 might be rendered as immediate objects of intel- 
 lectual perception, as the individuals which com- 
 pose the material world are of our external senses. 
 By connecting this opinion with their other doc- 
 trines concerning universals, they were unfortu- 
 nately enabled to exhibit it in so mysterious a form, 
 as not only to impose on themselves, but to perplex 
 the understandings of all the learned in Europe, for 
 a long succession of ages. 
 
 The conclusion to which we are led by the fore- 
 going observations is, that the foundation of all hu- 
 man knowledge must be laid in the examination of 
 particular objects and particular facts ; and that it 
 is only as far as our general principles are resolv- 
 able into these primary elements, that they possess 
 either truth or utility. It must not, however, be 
 understood to be implied in this conclusion, that 
 all our knowledge must ultimately rest on our own 
 proper experience. If this were the case, the pro- 
 gress of science, and the progress of human im- 
 provement, must have been wonderfully retarded ; 
 for, if it had been necessary for each individual to 
 form a classification of objects, in consequence of 
 observations and abstractions of his own, and to in- 
 fer from the actual examination of particular facts, 
 the general truths on which his conduct proceeds ; 
 human affairs would at this day remain nearly in 
 the same state to which they were brought by the
 
 220 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 experience of the first generation. In fact, this is 
 very nearly the situation of the species in all those 
 parts of the world, in which the existence of the 
 race depends on the separate efforts which each in- 
 dividual makes, in procuring for himself the neces- 
 saries of life ; and in which, of consequence, the 
 habits and acquirements of each individual must be 
 the result of his own personal experience. In a 
 cultivated society, one of the first acquisitions 
 which children make, is the use of language ; by 
 which means they are familiarised, from their ear- 
 liest years, to the consideration of classes of ob- 
 jects, and of general truths ; and before that time 
 of life at which the savage is possessed of the know- 
 ledge necessary for his own preservation, are ena- 
 bled to appropriate to themselves the accumulated 
 discoveries of ages. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the stationary con- 
 dition in which the race must, of necessity, con- 
 tinue, prior to the separation of arts and profes- 
 sions ; the natural disposition of the mind to ascend 
 from particular truths to general conclusions, could 
 not fail to lead individuals, even in the rudest state 
 of society, to collect the results of their experience, 
 for their own instruction and that of others. But, 
 without the use of general terms, the only possible 
 way of communicating such conclusions, would be 
 by means of some particular example, of which the 
 general application was striking and obvious. In 
 other words, the wisdom of such ages will necessa- 
 rily be expressed in the form of fables or parables, 
 or in the still simpler form of proverbial instances j 
 and not in the scientific form of general maxims.
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 221 
 
 In this way, undoubtedly, much useful instruction, 
 both of a prudential and moral kind, might be 
 conveyed : at the same time, it is obvious, that, 
 while general truths continue to be expressed merely 
 by particular exemplifications, they would afford 
 little or no opportunity to one generation to im- 
 prove on the speculations of another ; as no effort 
 of the understanding could combine them together, 
 or employ them as premises, in order to obtain 
 other conclusions more remote and comprehensive. 
 For this purpose, it is absolutely necessary that the 
 scope or moral of the fable should be separated 
 entirely from its accessary circumstances, and stated 
 in the form of a general proposition. 
 
 From what has now been said, it appears, how 
 much the progress of human reason, which neces- 
 sarily accompanies the progress of society, is owing 
 to the introduction of general terms, and to the 
 use of general propositions. In consequence of 
 the gradual improvements which take place in lan- 
 guage as an instrument of thought, the classifica- 
 tions both of things and facts with which the infant 
 faculties of each successive race are conversant, are 
 more just and more comprehensive than those of 
 their predecessors : the discoveries which, in one 
 age, were confined to the studious and enlightened 
 few, becoming in the next, the established creed of 
 the learned ; and in the third, forming part of the 
 elementary principles of education. Indeed, among 
 those, who enjoy the advantages of early instruction, 
 some of the most remote and wonderful conclu- 
 sions of the human intellect, are, even in infancy, 
 as completely familiarised to the mind, as the most
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 obvious phenomena which the material world exhi- 
 bits to their senses. 
 
 If these remarks be just, they open an unbound- 
 ed prospect of intellectual improvement to future 
 ages ; as they point out a provision made by nature 
 to facilitate and abridge, more and more, the pro- 
 cess of study, in proportion as the truths to be ac- 
 quired increase in number. Nor is this prospect 
 derived from theory alone. It is encouraged by 
 the past history of all the sciences ; in a more parti- 
 cular manner, by that of mathematics and physics, 
 in which the state of discovery, and the prevailing 
 methods of instruction, may, at all times, be easily 
 compared together. In this last observation I have 
 been anticipated by a late eminent mathematician, 
 whose eloquent and philosophical statement of the 
 argument cannot fail to carry conviction to those, 
 who are qualified to judge of the facts on which his 
 conclusion is founded : 
 
 " To such of my readers as may be slow in ad- 
 " mitting the possibility of this progressive improve- 
 " ment in the human race, allow me to state, as an 
 " example, the history of that science in which the 
 " advances of discovery are the most certain, and 
 " in which they may be measured with the greatest 
 " precision. Those elementary truths of geometry 
 " and of astronomy, which, in India and Egypt, 
 " formed an occult science, upon which an ambitious 
 " priesthood founded its influence, were become, in 
 " the times of Archimedes and Hipparchus, the 
 " subjects of common education in the public 
 " schools of Greece. In the last century, a few 
 " years of study were sufficient for comprehending
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 " all that Archimedes and Hipparchus knew ; and, 
 " at present, two years employed under an able 
 " teacher, carry the student beyond those conclu- 
 " sions, which limited the inquiries of Leibnitz and 
 " of Newton. Let any person reflect on these facts : 
 ' let him follow the immense chain which connects 
 " the inquiries of Euler with those of a Priest of 
 " Memphis ; let him observe, at each epoch, how 
 " genius outstrips the present age, and how it is 
 " overtaken by mediocrity in the next , he will per- 
 " ceive, that nature has furnished us with the means 
 " of abridging and facilitating our intellectual la- 
 " hour, and that there is no reason for apprehend- 
 " ing that such simplifications can ever have an end. 
 " He will perceive, that at the moment when a 
 " multitude of particular solutions, and of insulated 
 " facts, begin to distract the attention, and to over- 
 " charge the memory, the former gradually lose 
 " themselves in one general method, and the latter 
 " unite in one general law ; and that these gene- 
 " ralisations continually succeeding one to another, 
 " like the successive multiplications of a number 
 " by itself, have no other limit, than that infinity 
 " which the human faculties are unable to com- 
 " prehend." * 
 
 * See Note [MJ.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Differences in the Intellectual 
 Characters of Individuals, arising from their different Habits 
 of Abstraction and Generalisation. 
 
 IN mentioning as one of the principal effects of 
 civilisation, its tendency to familiarise the mind to 
 general terms and to general propositions, I did 
 not mean to say, that this influence extends equally 
 to all the classes of men in society. On the con- 
 trary, it is evidently confined, in a great measure, 
 to those who receive a liberal education ; while 
 the minds of the lower orders, like those of sa- 
 vages, are so habitually occupied about particular 
 objects and particular events, that, although they 
 are sometimes led, from imitation, to employ ge- 
 neral expressions, the use which they make of 
 them is much more the result of memory than 
 judgment j and it is but seldom that they are able 
 to comprehend fully, any process of reasoning in 
 which they are involved. 
 
 It is hardly necessary for me to remark, that this 
 observation, with respect to the incapacity of the 
 vulgar for general speculations, (like all observ- 
 ations of a similar nature,) must be received with 
 some restrictions. In such a state of society as that 
 in which we live, there is hardly any individual to 
 be found to whom some general terms, and some 
 general truths, are not perfectly familiar; and, there- 
 fore, the foregoing conclusions are to be considered
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 as descriptive of those habits of thought alone, 
 which are most prevalent in their mind. To abridge 
 the labour of reasoning, and of memory, by direct- 
 ing the attention to general principles, instead of 
 particular truths, is the professed aim of all philo- 
 sophy ; and according as individuals have more or 
 less of the philosophic spirit, their habitual specu- 
 lations (whatever the nature of their pursuits may 
 be) will relate to the former, or to the latter, of 
 these objects. 
 
 There are, therefore, among the men who are 
 accustomed to the exercise of their intellectual 
 powers, two classes, whose habits of thought are 
 remarkably distinguished from each other ; the one 
 class comprehending what we commonly call men 
 of business, or, more properly, men of detail ; the 
 other, men of abstraction j or, in other words, phi- 
 losophers. 
 
 The advantages which, in certain respects, the 
 latter of these possess over the former, have been 
 already pointed out ; but it must not be supposed, 
 that these advantages are always purchased without 
 some inconvenience. As the solidity of our general 
 principles depends on the accuracy of the particular 
 observations into which they are ultimately resolv- 
 able, so their utility is to be estimated by the prac- 
 tical applications of which they admit : and it un- 
 fortunately happens, that the same turn of mind 
 which is favourable to philosophical pursuits, unless 
 it be kept under proper regulation, is extremely 
 apt to disqualify us for applying our knowledge to 
 use, in the exercise of the arts, and in the conduct 
 of affairs.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV, 
 
 In order to perceive the truth of these remarks, 
 it is almost sufficient to recollect, that as classifica- 
 tion, and, of consequence, general reasoning, pre- 
 suppose the exercise of abstraction j a natural dis- 
 position to indulge in them, cannot fail to lead the 
 mind to overlook the specific differences of things, 
 in attending to their common qualities. To succeed, 
 however, in practice, a familiar and circumstantial 
 acquaintance with the particular objects which fall 
 under our observation, is indispensably necessary. 
 
 But, farther : As all general principles are found- 
 ed on classifications which imply the exercise of 
 abstraction ; it is necessary to regard them, in their 
 practical applications, merely as approximations to 
 the truth ; the defects of which, must be supplied 
 by habits acquired by personal experience. In con- 
 sidering, for example, the theory of the mechanical 
 powers ; it is usual to simplify the objects of our 
 conception, by abstracting from friction, and from 
 the weight of the different parts of which they are 
 composed. Levers are considered as mathematical 
 lines, perfectly inflexible ; and ropes as mathema- 
 tical lines, perfectly flexible ; and by means of 
 thes^e, and similar abstractions, a subject, which is 
 in itself extremely complicated, is brought within 
 the reach of elementary geometry. In the theory 
 of politics, we find it necessary to abstract from 
 many of the peculiarities which distinguish different 
 forms of government from each other, and to reduce 
 them to certain general classes, according to their 
 prevailing tendency. Although all the governments 
 we have ever seen, have had more or less of mixture 
 in their composition, we reason concerning pure
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMA N MIND. 227 
 
 monarchies, pure aristocracies, and pure democra- 
 cies, as if there really existed political establishments 
 corresponding to our definitions. Without such a 
 classification, it would be impossible for us to fix our 
 attention, amidst the multiplicity of particulars 
 which the subject presents to us, or to arrive at any 
 general principles, which might serve to guide our 
 enquiries in comparing different institutions together. 
 
 It is for a similar reason, that the speculative 
 farmer reduces the infinite variety of soils to a 
 few general descriptions ; the physician, the infinite 
 variety of bodily constitutions to a few tempera- 
 ments ; and the moralist, the infinite variety of hu- 
 man characters to a few of the ruling principles of 
 action. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the obvious advan- 
 tages we derive from these classifications, and the 
 general conclusions to which they lead; it is evi- 
 dently impossible, that principles, which derived 
 their origin from efforts of abstraction, should apply 
 literally to practice j or, indeed, that they should 
 afford us any considerable assistance in conduct, 
 without a certain degree of practical and experi- 
 mental skill. Hence it is, that the mere theorist 
 so frequently exposes himself, in real life, to the 
 ridieule of men whom he despises ; and in the ge- 
 neral estimation of the world, falls below the level 
 of the common drudges in business and the arts. 
 The walk, indeed, of these unenlightened practi- 
 tioners, must necessarily be limited by their acci- 
 dental opportunities of experience j but, so far as 
 they go, they operate with facility and success ; 
 while the merely speculative philosopher, although
 
 228 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 possessed of principles which enable him to approx- 
 imate to the truth, in an infinite variety of untried 
 cases, and although he sees, with pity, the narrow 
 views of the multitude, and the ludicrous preten- 
 sions with which they frequently oppose their tri- 
 fling successes to his theoretical speculations, finds 
 himself perfectly at a loss, when he is called upon, 
 by the simplest occurrences of ordinary life, to 
 carry his principles into execution. Hence the 
 origin of that maxim, " which" (as Mr. Hume re- 
 marks) " has been so industriously propagated by 
 " the dunces of every age, that a man of genius is 
 " unfit for business." 
 
 In what consists practical or experimental skill, 
 it is not easy to explain completely; but, among 
 other things, it obviously implies, a talent for mi- 
 nute and comprehensive and rapid observation ; a 
 memory, at once attentive and ready ; in order to 
 present to us accurately, and without reflection, 
 our theoretical knowledge : a presence of mind, not 
 to be disconcerted by unexpected occurrences ; and, 
 in some cases, an uncommon degree of perfection 
 in the external senses, and in the mechanical capa- 
 cities of the body. All these elements of practical 
 skill, it is obvious, are to be acquired only by habits 
 of active exertion, and by a familiar acquaintance 
 with real occurrences; for, as all the practical prin- 
 ciples of our nature, both intellectual and animal, 
 have a reference to particulars, and not to generals, 
 so it is in the active scenes of life alone, and amidst 
 the details of business, that they can be cultivated 
 and improved. 
 
 The remarks, which have been already made, are
 
 . 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 229 
 
 sufficient to illustrate the impossibility of acquiring 
 a talent for business, or for any of the practical arts 
 of life, without actual experience. They shew also, 
 that mere experience, without theory, may qualify 
 a man, in certain cases, for distinguishing himself 
 in both. It is not, however, to be imagined, that 
 in this way individuals are to be formed for the 
 uncommon, or for the important situations of 
 society, or even for enriching the arts by new in- 
 ventions j for as their address and dexterity are 
 founded entirely on imitation, or derived from the 
 lessons which experience has suggested to them, 
 they cannot possibly extend to new combinations 
 of circumstances. Mere experience, therefore, can, 
 at best, prepare the mind for the subordinate de- 
 partments of life ; for conducting the established 
 routine of business, or for a servile repetition in the 
 arts of common operations. 
 
 In the character of Mr. George Grenville, which 
 Mr. Burke introduced in his celebrated Speech on 
 American Taxation, a lively picture is drawn of 
 the insufficiency of mere experience to qualify a 
 man for new and untried situations in the admi- 
 nistration of government. The observations he 
 makes on this subject, are expressed with his usual 
 beauty and felicity of language j and are of so 
 general a nature, that, with some trifling alter- 
 ations, they may be extended to all the practical 
 pursuits of life. 
 
 " Mr. Grenville was bred to the law, which is, 
 " in my opinion, one of the first and noblest of 
 " human sciences ; a science which does more to 
 * quicken and invigorate the understanding, than 
 
 Q 3
 
 230 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 'f all the other kinds of learning put together ; but 
 ** it is not apt, except in persons very happily born, 
 " to open and to liberalise the mind exactly in the 
 " same proportion. Passing from that study, he did 
 " not go very largely into the world, but plunged 
 into business ; I mean, into the business of 
 " office, and the limited and fixed methods and 
 " forms established there. Much knowledge is to 
 " be had, undoubtedly, in that line ; and there is no 
 ** knowledge which is not valuable. But it may be 
 " truly said, that men too much conversant in 
 office, are rarely minds of remarkable enlarge- 
 ment. Their habits of office are apt to give them 
 " a turn to think the substance of business not to 
 " be much more important, than the forms in 
 " which it is conducted. These forms are adapted 
 " to ordinary occasions ; and, therefore, persons 
 " who are nurtured in office, do admirably well, 
 " as long as things go on in their common order ; 
 " but when the high roads are broken up, and the 
 " waters out, when a new and troubled scene is 
 " opened, and the file affords no precedent, then it 
 " is that a greater knowledge of mankind, and a 
 " far more extensive comprehension of things, is 
 " requisite, than ever office gave, or than office can 
 " ever give." 
 
 Nor is it in new combinations of circumstances 
 alone, that general principles assist us in the con- 
 duct of affairs j they render the application of our 
 practical skill more unerring, and more perfect. 
 For as general principles limit the utility of prac- 
 tical skill to supply the imperfections of theory, 
 they diminish the number of cases in which this
 
 Sect. 7. F THE HUMAN MIND. 231 
 
 skill is to be employed j and thus, at once, facili- 
 tate its improvement, wherever it is requisite ; and 
 lessen the errors to which it is liable, by contracting 
 the field within which it is possible to commit 
 them. 
 
 It would appear then, that there are two opposite 
 extremes into which men are apt to fall, in pre- 
 paring themselves for the duties of active life. 
 The one arises from habits of abstraction and gene- 
 ralisation carried to an excess ; the other from a 
 minute, an exclusive, and an unenlightened atten- 
 tion to the objects and events which happen to fall 
 under their actual experience. 
 
 In a perfect system of education, care should be 
 taken to guard against both extremes, and to unite 
 habits of abstraction with habits of business, in such 
 a manner as to enable men to consider things, either 
 in general, or in detail, as the occasion may require. 
 Whichever of these habits may happen to gain an 
 undue ascendant over the mind, it will necessarily 
 produce a character limited in its powers, and fit- 
 ted only for particular exertions. Hence some of 
 the apparent inconsistencies which we may fre- 
 quently remark in the intellectual capacities of the 
 same person. One man, from an early indulgence in 
 abstract speculation, possesses a knowledge of gene- 
 ral principles, and a talent for general reasoning, 
 united with a fluency and eloquence in the use of 
 general terms, which seem, to the vulgar, to an- 
 nounce abilities fitted for any given situation in 
 life : while, in the conduct of the simplest affairs, 
 he exhibits every mark of irresolution and in- 
 capacity. Another, not only acts with propriety, 
 
 Q 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY chap. IV. 
 
 and skill, in circumstances which require a minute 
 attention to details, but possesses an acuteness of 
 reasoning, and a facility of expression on all subjects, 
 in which nothing but what is particular is involved ; 
 while, on general topics, he is perfectly unable 
 either to reason, or to judge. It is this last turn 
 of mind, which I think we have, in most instances, 
 in view, when we speak of good sense, or common 
 sense, in opposition to science and philosophy. 
 Both philosophy and good sense, imply the exer- 
 cise of our reasoning powers ; and they differ from 
 each other only, according as these powers are 
 applied to particulars or to generals. It is on good 
 sense (in the acceptation in which I have now ex- 
 plained the term) that the success of men in the 
 inferior walks of life chiefly depends ; but, that it 
 does not always indicate a capacity for abstract 
 science, or for general speculation, or for able 
 conduct in situations which require comprehensive 
 views, is matter even of vulgar remark. 
 
 Although, however, each of these defects has a 
 tendency to limit the utility of the individuals in 
 whom it is to be found, to certain stations in 
 society ; no comparison can be made, in point of 
 original value, between the intellectual capacities of 
 the two classes of men to which they character- 
 istically belong. The one is the defect of a 
 vigorous, an ambitious, and a comprehensive genius, 
 improperly directed ; the other, of an understand- 
 ing, minute and circumscribed in its views, timid 
 in its exertions, and formed for servile imitation. 
 Nor is the former defect, (however difficult it may 
 be to remove it when confirmed by long habit,) 
 
 9
 
 6Ct. 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 by any means so incurable as the latter ; for it 
 arises, not from original constitution, but from 
 some fault in early education ; while every ten- 
 dency to the opposite extreme is more or less 
 characteristical of a mind, useful, indeed, in a high 
 degree, when confined to its proper sphere, but des- 
 tined, by the hand that formed it, to borrow its 
 lights from another. 
 
 As an additional proof of the natural superiority 
 which men of general views possess over the com- 
 mon drudges in business, it may be farther ob- 
 served that the habits of inattention incident to 
 the former arise in part from the little interest 
 which they take in particular objects and particular 
 occurrences, and are not wholly to be ascribed to 
 an incapacity of attention. When the mind has been 
 long accustomed to the consideration of classes of 
 objects and of comprehensive theorems, it cannot, 
 without some degree of effort, descend to that hum- 
 ble walk of experience, or of action, in which the 
 meanest of mankind are on a level with the greatest. 
 In important situations, accordingly, men of the 
 most general views, are found not to be inferior to 
 the vulgar in their attention to details ; because the 
 objects and occurrences which such situations pre- 
 sent, rouse their passions, and interest their curio- 
 sity, from the magnitude of the consequences to 
 which they lead. 
 
 When theoretical knowledge and practical skill 
 are happily combined in the same person, the intel- 
 lectual power of man appears in its full perfection ; 
 and fits him equally to conduct, with a masterly 
 hand, the details of ordinary business, and to con.
 
 234* ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 tend successfully with the untried difficulties of new 
 and hazardous situations. In conducting the 
 former, mere experience may frequently be a suf- 
 ficient guide, but experience and speculation must 
 be combined together to prepare us for the latter. 
 " Expert men," says Lord Bacon, " can execute 
 " and judge of particulars one by one ; but the ge- 
 " ral counsels, and the plots, and the marshalling 
 " of affairs, come best from those that are learned." 
 
 SECTION VIJI. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Use and Abuse of general 
 Principles in Politics. * 
 
 THE foregoing remarks, on the dangers to be appre- 
 hended from a rash application of general princi- 
 ples, hold equally with respect to most of the prac- 
 tical arts. Among these, however, there is one of 
 far superior dignity to the rest ; which, partly on 
 
 * The events which have happened since the publication of 
 the first edition of this volume in 1792, might have enabled me to 
 confirm many of the observations in this Section, by an appeal to 
 facts still fresh in the recollection of my Readers; and in one or 
 two instances, by slight verbal corrections to guard against the 
 possibility of uncandid misinterpretation : but, for various rea- 
 sons, which it is unnecessary to state at present, I feel it to be a 
 duty which I owe to myself, to send the whole discussion again 
 to the press in its original form. That the doctrine it inculcates 
 is favourable to the good order and tranquillity of society, cannot 
 be disputed ; and, as far as I myself am personally interested, I 
 have no wish to vitiate the record which it exhibits of my opinion. 
 
 On some points which are touched upon very slightly here, I 
 have explained myself more fully, in the fourth Section of my 
 Biographical Account of Mr. SMITH, read before the Royal 
 Society of Edinburgh in 1793, and published in the third Vo- 
 lume of their Transactions. ( Second Edition, 1802.)
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 account of its importance, and partly on account 
 of some peculiarities in its nature, seems to be 
 entitled to a more particular consideration. The 
 art I allude to, is that of Legislation ; an art which 
 differs from all others in some very essential respects, 
 and to which, the reasonings in the last Section 
 must be applied with many restrictions. 
 
 Before proceeding farther, it is necessary for me 
 to premise, that it is chiefly in compliance with 
 common language and common prejudices, that I 
 am sometimes led, in the following observations, to 
 contrast theory [with experience. In the proper 
 sense of the word Theory, it is so far from standing 
 in opposition to Experience, that it implies a 
 knowledge of principles, of which the most exten- 
 sive experience alone could put us in possession. 
 Prior to the time of Lord Bacon, indeed, an ac- 
 quaintance with facts was not considered as essential 
 to the formation of theories j and from these ages, 
 has descended to us, an indiscriminate prejudice 
 against general principles, even in those cases in 
 which they have been fairly obtained in the way of 
 induction. 
 
 But not to dispute about words: there are 
 plainly two sets of political reasoners; one of 
 which consider the actual institutions of mankind 
 as the only safe foundation for our conclusions, and 
 think every plan of legislation chimerical, which 
 is not copied from one which has already been 
 realised ; while the other apprehend that, in many 
 cases, we may reason safely a priori from the 
 known principles of human nature combined 
 with the particular circumstances of the times.
 
 236 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 The former are commonly understood as contend- 
 ing for experience in opposition to theory; the 
 lattter are accused of trusting to theory unsup- 
 po^-ted by experience ; but it ought to be remem- 
 bered, that the political theorist, if he proceeds 
 cautiously and philosophically, founds his con- 
 clusions ultimately on experience, no less than the 
 political empiric ; as the astronomer, who pre- 
 dicts an eclipse from his knowledge of the prin- 
 ciples of the science, rests his expectation of the 
 event, on facts which have been previously ascer- 
 tained by observation, no less than if he inferred 
 it, without any reasoning, from his knowledge of a 
 cycle. 
 
 There is, indeed, a certain degree of practical 
 skill which habits of business alone can give, and 
 without which the most enlightened politician must 
 always appear to disadvantage when he attempts to 
 carry his plans into execution. And as this skill is 
 often (in consequence of the ambiguity of lan- 
 guage) denoted by the word Experience ; while it 
 is seldom possessed by those men, who have most 
 carefully studied the theory of legislation ; it has 
 been very generally concluded, that politics is 
 merely a matter of routine, in which philosophy 
 is rather an obstacle to success. The statesman, 
 who has been formed among official details, is com- 
 pared to the practical engineer ; the speculative 
 legislator, to the theoretical mechanician who has 
 passed his life among books and diagrams. 
 In order to ascertain how far this opinion is just, 
 it may be of use to compare the art of legislation 
 with those practical applications of mechanical
 
 , g. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 237 
 
 principles, by which the opposers of political 
 theories have so often endeavoured to illustrate 
 their reasonings. 
 
 I. In the first place, then, it may be remarked, 
 that the errors to which we are liable, in the use of 
 general mechanical principles, are owing, in most 
 instances, to the effect which habits of abstraction 
 are apt to have, in withdrawing the attention from 
 those applications of our knowledge, by which alone 
 we can learn to correct the imperfections of theory. 
 Such errors, therefore, are, in a peculiar degree, in- 
 cident to men who have been led by natural taste, 
 or by early habits, to prefer the speculations of the 
 closet, to the bustle of active life, and to the fatigue 
 of minute and circumstantial observation. 
 
 In politics, too, one species of principles is often 
 misapplied from an inattention to circumstances ; 
 those which are deduced from a few examples of 
 particular governments, and which are occasionally 
 quoted as universal political axioms, which every 
 wise legislator ought to assume as the ground-work 
 of his reasonings. But this abuse of general prin- 
 ciples should by no means be ascribed, like the 
 absurdities of the speculative mechanician, to over- 
 refinement, and the love of theory ; for it arises 
 from weaknesses, which philosophy alone can re- 
 medy; an unenlightened veneration for maxims 
 which are supposed to have the sanction of time in 
 their favour,Jand a passive acquiescence in received 
 opinions. 
 
 There is another class of principles, from which 
 political conclusions have sometimes been deduced j 
 and which, notwithstanding the common prejudice
 
 238 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 against them, are a much surer foundation for our 
 reasonings : I allude, at present, to those principles 
 which we obtain from an examination of the human 
 constitution, and of the general laws which regulate 
 the course of human affairs ; principles, which are 
 certainly the result of a much more extensive in- 
 duction, than any of the inferences that can be 
 drawn from the history of actual establishments. 
 
 In applying, indeed, such principles to practice, 
 it is necessary (as well as in mechanics) to pay at- 
 tention to the peculiarities of the case ; but it is by 
 no means necessary to pay the same scrupulous at- 
 tention to minute circumstances, which is essential 
 in the mechanical arts, or in the management of 
 private business. There is even a danger of dwell- 
 ing too much on details, and of rendering the mind 
 incapable of those abstract and comprehensive views 
 of human affairs, which can alone furnish the 
 statesman with fixed and certain maxims for the 
 regulation of his conduct. " When a man (says 
 Mr. Hume) deliberates concerning his conduct in 
 " any particular affair, and forms schemes in politics, 
 " trade, ceconomy, or any business in life, he never 
 " ought to draw his arguments too fine, or connect 
 " too long a chain of consequences together. 
 " Something is sure to happen, that will disconcert 
 " his reasoning, and produce an event different 
 " from what he expected. But when we reason 
 " upon general subjects, one may justly affirm, that 
 " our speculations can scarce ever be too fine, pro- 
 " vided they are just; and that the difference be- 
 " twixt a common man and a man of genius, is 
 " chiefly seen in the shallowness or depth of the 
 ii
 
 Sectt g. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 " principles upon which they proceed. 'Tis cer- 
 tain that general principles, however intricate 
 " they may seem, must always, if they are just and 
 " sound, prevail in the general course of things, 
 '* though they may fail in particular cases ; and it is 
 " the chief business of philosophers to regard the 
 " general course of things. I may add, that it is also 
 " the chief business of politicians ; especially in the 
 " domestic government of the state, where the pub- 
 " lie good, which is, or ought to be, their object, 
 " depends on the concurrence of a multitude of 
 " cases, not, as in foreign politics, upon accidents, 
 " and chances, and the caprices of a few persons." * 
 II. The difficulties which, in the mechanical arts, 
 limit the application of general principles, remain 
 invariably the same from age to age : and whatever 
 observations we have made on them in the course of 
 our past experience, lay a sure foundation for fu- 
 ture practical skill ; and supply, in so far as they ' 
 reach, the defects of our theories. In the art of 
 government, however, the practical difficulties 
 which occur, are of a very different nature. They 
 do not present to the statesman, the same steady 
 subject of examination, which the effects of friction 
 do to the engineer. They arise chiefly from the 
 passions and opinions of men, which are in a state 
 of perpetual change : and, therefore, the address 
 which is necessary to overcome them, depends less 
 on the accuracy of our observations with respect 
 to the past, than on the sagacity of our conjectures 
 with respect to the future. In the present age, 
 
 * Political Discourses.
 
 240 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 more particularly, when the rapid communication, 
 and the universal diffusion of knowledge, by means 
 of the press, render the situation of political socie- 
 ties essentially different from what it ever was for- 
 merly, and secure infallibly, against every accident, 
 the progress of human reason ; we may venture to 
 predict, that they are to be the most successful 
 statesmen, who, paying all due regard to past ex- 
 perience, search for the rules of their conduct 
 chiefly in the peculiar circumstances of their own 
 times, and in an enlightened anticipation of the fu- 
 ture history of mankind. 
 
 III. In the mechanical arts, if, at any time, we 
 are at a loss about the certainty of a particular fact, 
 we have it always in our power to bring it to the 
 test of experiment. But it is very seldom that we 
 can obtain in this way any useful conclusion in po- 
 litics : not only because it is difficult to find two 
 * cases in which the combinations of circumstances 
 are precisely the same, but because our acquaint- 
 ance with the political experience of mankind is 
 much more imperfect than is commonly imagined. 
 By far the greater part of what is called matter of 
 fact in politics, is nothing else than theory ; and, 
 very frequently, in this science, when we think we 
 are opposing experience to speculation, we are only 
 opposing one theory to another. 
 
 To be satisfied of the truth of this observation, it 
 is almost sufficient to recollect how extremely diffi- 
 cult it is to convey, by a general description, a just 
 idea of the actual state of any government. That 
 every such description must necessarily be more or 
 less theoretical, will appear from the following re- 
 marks.
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 1. Of the governments which have hitherto ap- 
 peared in the history of mankind, few or none have 
 taken their rise from political wisdom, but have 
 been the gradual result of time and experience, of 
 circumstances and emergencies. In process of 
 time, indeed, every government acquires a system- 
 atical appearance : for, although its different parts 
 arose from circumstances which may be regarded 
 as accidental and irregular ; yet there must exist, 
 among these parts, a certain degree of consistency 
 and analogy. Wherever a government has existed 
 for ages, and men have enjoyed tranquillity under it, 
 it is a proof that its principles are not essentially at 
 variance with each other. Every new institution 
 which was introduced, must have had a certain re- 
 ference to the laws and usages existing before, other- 
 wise it could not have been permanent in its oper- 
 ation. If any one, contrary to the spirit of the rest, 
 should have occasionally mingled with them, it must 
 soon have fallen into desuetude and oblivion ; and 
 those alone would remain, which accorded in their 
 general tendency. " Quag usu obtinuere," says Lord 
 Bacon, "si non bona, at saltern apta inter sesunt." 
 
 The necessity of studying particular constitutions 
 of government, by the help of systematical descrip- 
 tions of them, (such descriptions, for example, as 
 are given of that of England by Montesquieu and 
 Blackstone,) arises from the same circumstances, 
 which render it expedient, in most instances, to 
 study particular languages, by consulting the 
 writings of grammarians. In both cases, the know- 
 ledge we wish to acquire, comprehends an infinite 
 number of particulars, the consideration of which, 

 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 in detail, would distract the attention, and overload 
 the memory. The systematical descriptions of po- 
 liticians, like the general rules of grammarians, are 
 in a higher degree useful, for arranging, and sim- 
 plifying, the objects of our study; but in both 
 cases, we must remember, that the knowledge we 
 acquire in this manner, is to be received with great 
 limitations, and that it is no more possible to con- 
 vey, in a systematical form, a just and complete 
 idea of a particular government, than it is to teach 
 a language completely by means of general rules, 
 without any practical assistance from reading or 
 conversation. 
 
 2. The nature and spirit of a government, as 
 it is actually exercised at a particular period, can- 
 not always be collected ; perhaps it can seldom 
 be collected from an examination of written laws, 
 or of the established forms of a constitution. 
 These may continue the same for a long course 
 of ages, while the government may be modified 
 in its exercise, to a great extent, by gradual and 
 undescribable alterations in the ideas, manners, and 
 character, of the people ; or by a change in the 
 relations which different orders of the community 
 bear to each other. In every country whatever, 
 beside the established laws, the political state of 
 the people is affected by an infinite variety of cir- 
 cumstances, of which no words can convey a con- 
 ception, and which are to be collected only from 
 actual observation. Even in this way, it is not 
 easy for a person who has received his education 
 in one country, to study the government of 
 another; on account of the difficulty which he
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 must necessarily experience, in entering into the 
 associations which influence the mind under a 
 different system of manners, and in ascertaining 
 (especially upon political subjects) the complex 
 ideas conveyed by a foreign language. 
 
 In consequence of the causes which have now 
 been mentioned, it sometimes happens, that there 
 are essential circumstances in the actual state of 
 a government, about which the constitutional laws 
 are not only silent, but which are directly contrary 
 to all the written laws, and to the spirit of the 
 constitution as delineated by theoretical writers. 
 
 IV. The art of government differs from the me- 
 chanical arts in this, that, in the former, it is 
 much more difficult to refer effects to their causes, 
 than in the latter ; and, of consequence, it rarely 
 happens, even when we have an opportunity of 
 seeing a political experiment made, that we can 
 draw from it any certain inference, with respect 
 to the justness of the principles by which it was 
 suggested. In those complicated machines, to 
 which the structure of civil society has been fre- 
 quently compared, as all the different parts of 
 which they are composed are subjected to physical 
 laws, the errors of the artist must necessarily be- 
 come apparent in the last result; but in the po- 
 litical system, as well as in the animal body, where 
 the general constitution is sound and healthy, 
 there is a sort of vis niedlcatrix, wliich is sufficient 
 for the cure of partial disorders ; and in the one 
 case, as well as in the other, the errors of human 
 art are frequently corrected and concealed by the 
 wisdom of nature. Among the many false estimates 
 
 R 2
 
 244 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 which we daily make of human ability, there is 
 perhaps none more groundless than the exaggerated 
 conceptions we are apt to form of that species of 
 political wisdom, which is supposed to be the fruit 
 of long experience and of professional habits. 
 " Go ;" (said the chancellor Oxenstiern to his son, 
 when he was sending him to a congress of ambas- 
 sadors, and when the young man was expressing 
 his diffidence of his own abilities for such an em- 
 ployment ;) " Go, and see with your own eyes, 
 " Quam parva sapientia regitur mundus!" The 
 truth is, (however paradoxical the remark may 
 appear at first view,) that the speculative errors 
 of statesmen are frequently less sensible in their 
 effects, and, of consequence, more likely to escape 
 without detection, than those of individuals who 
 occupy inferior stations in society. The effects of 
 misconduct in private life, are easily traced to 
 their proper source, and therefore the world is 
 seldom far wrong in the judgments which it forms 
 of the prudence or of the imprudence of private 
 characters. But in considering the affairs of a 
 great nation, it is so difficult to trace events to their 
 proper causes, and to distinguish the effects of po- 
 litical wisdom, from those which are the natural 
 result of the situation of the people, that it is 
 scarcely possible, excepting in the case of a very 
 long administration, to appreciate the talents of a 
 statesman from the success or the failure of his 
 measures, In every society, too, which, in conse- 
 quence of the general spirit of its government, 
 enjoys the blessings of tranquillity and liberty, a 
 great part of the political order which we are apt to
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 45 
 
 ascribe to legislative sagacity, is the natural result 
 of the selfish pursuits of individuals ; nay, in every 
 such society, (as I already hinted,) the natural 
 tendency to improvement is so strong, as to over- 
 come many powerful obstacles, which the imper- 
 fection of human institutions opposes to its progress. 
 
 From these remarks, it seems to follow, that, 
 although in the mechanical arts, the errors of 
 theory may frequently be corrected by repeated 
 trials, without having recourse to general prin- 
 ciples ; yet, in the machine of government, there 
 is so great a variety of powers at work, beside the 
 influence of the statesman, that it is vain to expect 
 the art of legislation should be carried to its 
 greatest possible perfection by experience alone. 
 
 Still, however, it may be said, that in the most 
 imperfect governments of modern Europe, we have 
 an experimental proof, that they secure, to a very 
 great degree, the principal objects of the social 
 union. Why hazard these certain advantages, for 
 the uncertain effects of changes, suggested by mere 
 theory; and not rest satisfied with a measure of 
 political happiness, which appears, from the history 
 of the world, ,to be greater than has commonly 
 fallen to the lot of nations ? 
 
 With those who would carry their zeal against 
 reformation so far, it is impossible to argue ; and 
 it only remains for us to regret, that the number 
 of such reasoners has, in all ages of the world, 
 been so great, and their influence on human affairs 
 so extensive. 
 
 " There are some men," (says Dr. Johnson,) 
 " of narrow views, and grovelling conceptions, 
 
 R 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV, 
 
 " who, without the instigation of personal malice, 
 " treat every new attempt as wild and chimerical ; 
 " and look upon every endeavour to depart from 
 " the beaten tract, as the rash effort of a warm 
 " imagination, or the glittering speculation of an 
 " exalted mind, that may please and dazzle for a 
 " time, but can produce no real or lasting ad- 
 " vantage. 
 
 " These men value themselves upon a perpetual 
 " scepticism ; upon believing nothing but their own 
 " senses ; upon calling for demonstration where it 
 " cannot possibly be obtained ; and, sometimes, 
 " upon holding out against it when it is laid before 
 " them ; upon inventing arguments against the 
 " success of any new undertaking ; and, where 
 " arguments cannot be found, upon treating it 
 " with contempt and ridicule. 
 
 " Such have been the most formidable enemies 
 " of the great benefactors of the world ; for their 
 " notions and discourse are so agreeable to the lazy, 
 " the envious, and the timorous, that they seldom 
 " fail of becoming popular, and directing the opi- 
 " nions of mankind." * 
 
 With respect to this sceptical disposition, as ap- 
 plicable to the present state of society, it is of 
 importance to add, that, in every government, the 
 stability and the influence of established authority 
 must depend on the coincidence between its mea- 
 sures and the tide of public opinion; and that, in 
 modern Europe, in consequence of the invention 
 of printing, and the liberty of the press, public 
 
 * Life of DRAKE, by Dr. JOHNSON.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 opinion has acquired an ascendant in human 
 affairs, which it never possessed in those states 
 of antiquity from which most of our political 
 examples are drawn. The danger, indeed, of 
 sudden and rash innovations cannot be too strongly 
 inculcated ; and the views of those men who are 
 forward to promote them, cannot be reprobated 
 with too great severity. But it is possible also to 
 fall into the opposite extreme ; and to bring upon 
 society the very evils we are anxious to prevent* 
 by an obstinate opposition to those gradual and 
 necessary reformations which the genius of the 
 times demands. The violent revolutions which, 
 at different periods, have convulsed modern 
 Europe, have arisen, not from a spirit of inno- 
 vation in sovereigns and statesmen ; but from 
 their bigotted attachment to antiquated forms, 
 and to principles borrowed from less enlightened 
 ages. It is this reverence for abuses which have 
 been sanctioned by time, accompanied with an 
 inattention to the progress of public opinion, which 
 has, in most instances, blinded the rulers of man- 
 kind, till government has lost all its efficiency ; 
 and till the rage of innovation has become too 
 general and too violent, to be satisfied with changes, 
 which, if proposed at an earlier period, would 
 have united, in the support of established institu- 
 tions, every friend to order, and to the prosperity 
 of his country. 
 
 These observations I state with the greater con- 
 fidence, that the substance of them is contained 
 in the following aphorisms of Lord Bacon ; a phi- 
 losopher who (if we except, perhaps, the late 
 
 R 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 Mr. Turgot) seems, more than any other, to have 
 formed enlightened views with respect to the 
 possible attainments of mankind ; and whose fame 
 cannot fail to increase as the world grows older, 
 by being attached, not to a particular system of 
 variable opinions, but to the general and infallible 
 progress of human reason. 
 
 " Quis novator tempus imitatur, quod nova- 
 " tiones ita insinuat, ut sensus fallant ? 
 
 " Novator maximus tempus ; quidni igitur tem- 
 " pus imitemur ? 
 
 " Morosa morum retentio, res turbulenta est, 
 " aeque ac novitas. 
 
 " Cum per se res mutentur in deterius, si con- 
 " silio in melius non mutentur, quis finis erit 
 " mali ?" 
 
 The general conclusion to which these observa- 
 tions lead, is sufficiently obvious ; that the perfec- 
 tion of political wisdom does not consist in an 
 indiscriminate zeal against reformers, but in a gra- 
 dual and prudent accommodation of established 
 institutions to the varying opinions, manners, and 
 circumstances of mankind. In the actual appli- 
 cation, however, of this principle, many difficulties 
 occur, which it requires a very rare combination 
 of talents to surmount : more particularly in the 
 present age ^ when the press has, to so wonderful 
 a degree, emancipated human reason from the 
 tyranny of ancient prejudices ; and has roused a 
 spirit of free discussion, unexampled in the history 
 of former times. 
 
 That this sudden change in the state of the 
 world, should be accompanied with some temporary 
 4
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 disorders, is by no means surprising. While the 
 multitude continue imperfectly enlightened, they 
 will be occasionally misled by the artifices of dema- 
 gogues; and even good men, intoxicated with 
 ideas of theoretical perfection, may be expected, 
 sometimes to sacrifice, unintentionally, the tran- 
 quillity of their cotemporaries, to an over-ardent 
 zeal for the good of posterity. Notwithstand- 
 ing, however, these evils, which every friend 
 to humanity must lament, I would willingly be- 
 lieve, that the final effects resulting from this 
 spirit of reformation, cannot fail to be favourable 
 to human happiness ; and there are some pecu- 
 liarities in the present condition of mankind, which 
 appear to me to justify more sanguine hopes upon 
 the subject, than it would have been reasonable for 
 a philosopher to indulge at any former period. An 
 attention to these peculiarities is absolutely neces- 
 sary to enable us to form a competent judgment on 
 the question to which the foregoing observations 
 relate ; and it leads to the illustration of a doctrine 
 to which I have frequently referred in this work ; 
 the gradual improvement in the condition of the 
 species, which may be expected from the progress 
 of reason and the diffusion of knowledge. 
 
 Among the many circumstances favourable to 
 human happiness in the present state of the world, 
 the most important, perhaps, is, that the same 
 events which have contributed to loosen the found- 
 ations of the ancient fabrics of despotism, have 
 made it practicable, in a much greater degree than 
 it ever was formerly, to reduce the principles of 
 legislation to a science, and to anticipate the pro-
 
 250 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 bable course of popular opinions. It is easy for the 
 statesman to form to himself a distinct and steady 
 idea of the ultimate objects at which a wise legis- 
 lator ought to aim, and to foresee that modification 
 of the social order, to which human affairs have, of 
 themselves, a tendency to approach ; and, there- 
 fore, his practical sagacity and address are limited 
 to the care of accomplishing the important ends 
 which he has in view, as effectually and as rapidly 
 as is consistent with the quiet of individuals, and 
 with the rights arising from actual establishments. 
 
 In order to lay a solid foundation for the science 
 of politics, the first step ought to be, to ascertain 
 that form of society which is perfectly agreeable to 
 nature and to justice ; and what are the principles 
 of legislation necessary for maintaining it. Nor is 
 the inquiry so difficult as might at first be appre- 
 hended; for it might be easily shewn, that the 
 greater part of the political disorders which exist 
 among mankind, do not arise from a want of fore- 
 sight in politicians, which has rendered their laws 
 too general, but ftom their having trusted too little 
 to the operation of those simple institutions which 
 nature and justice recommend ; and, of conse- 
 quence, that, as society advances to its perfection, 
 the number of laws may be expected to diminish, 
 instead of increasing, and the science of legislation 
 to be gradually simplified. 
 
 The Economical system which, about thirty years 
 ago, employed the speculations of some ingenious 
 men in France, seems to me to have been the first 
 attempt to ascertain this ideal perfection of the 
 social order j and the light which, since that pe-
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 251 
 
 riod, has been thrown on the subject, in different 
 parts of Europe, is a proof of what the human mind 
 is able to accomplish in such inquiries, when it has 
 once received a proper direction. To all the va- 
 rious tenets of these writers, I would, by no means, 
 be understood to subscribe j nor do I consider their 
 system as so perfect in every different part, as some 
 of its more sanguine admirers have represented it to 
 be. A few of the most important principles of 
 political economy, they have undoubtedly esta- 
 blished with demonstrative evidence ; but what the 
 world is chiefly indebted to them for, is, the com- 
 mencement which they have given to a new branch 
 of science, and the plan of investigation which they 
 have exhibited to their successors. A short ac- 
 count of what I conceive to be the scope of their 
 speculations, will justify these remarks, and will 
 comprehend every thing which I have to offer at 
 present, in answer to the question by which they 
 were suggested. Such an account I attempt with 
 the greater satisfaction, that the leading views of 
 the earliest and most enlightened patrons of the 
 economical system have, in my opinion, been not 
 more misrepresented by its opponents, than mis- 
 apprehended 4 by some who have adopted its con- 
 clusions. * 
 
 In the first place, then, I think it of importance 
 to remark, that the object of the economical sys- 
 tem ought by no means to be confounded (as I 
 believe it commonly is in this country) with that of 
 the Utopian plans of government, which have, at 
 different times, been offered to the world j and 
 * See Note [N].
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 which have so often excited the just ridicule of the 
 more sober and reasonable inquirers. Of these 
 plans, by far the greater number proceed on the 
 supposition, that the social order is entirely the 
 effect of human art ; and that wherever this order is 
 imperfect, the evil may be traced to some want of 
 foresight on the part of the legislator ; or to some 
 inattention of the magistrate to the complicated 
 structure of that machine of which he regulates the 
 movements. The projects of reform, therefore, 
 which such plans involve, are, in general, well en- 
 titled to all the ridicule and contempt they have 
 met with ; inasmuch as they imply an arrogant and 
 presumptuous belief in their authors, of the supe- 
 riority of their own political sagacity, to the accu- 
 mulated .wisdom of former ages. The case is very 
 different with the economical system ; of which the 
 leading views (so far as I am able to judge) proceed 
 on the two following suppositions : First, that the 
 social order is, in the most essential respects, the 
 result of the wisdom of nature, and not of human 
 contrivance.; and, therefore, that the proper busi- 
 ness of the politician, is not to divide his attention 
 among all the different parts of a machine, which 
 is by far too complicated for his comprehension ; 
 but by protecting the rights of individuals, and 
 by allowing to each, as complete a liberty as is 
 compatible with the perfect security of the rights 
 of his fellow-citizens ; to remove every obstacle 
 which the prejudices and vices of men have op- 
 posed to the establishment of that order which 
 society has a tendency to assume. Secondly; that, 
 in proportion to the progress and the diffusion of
 
 . 8. O* 1 THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 knowledge, those prejudices, on a skilful manage- 
 ment of which, all the old systems of policy pro- 
 ceeded, must gradually disappear; and, conse- 
 quently, that (whatever may be his predilection for 
 ancient usages) the inevitable course of events im- 
 poses on the politician the necessity of forming his 
 measures on more solid and permanent principles, 
 than those by which the world has hitherto been 
 governed. Both of these suppositions are of modern 
 origin. The former, so far as I know, was first 
 stated and illustrated by the French Economists. 
 The latter has been obviously suggested by that 
 rapid improvement which has actually taken place 
 in every country of Europe where the press has 
 enjoyed a moderate degree of liberty. 
 
 It may be farther remarked, with respect to the 
 greater part of the plans proposed by Utopian pro- 
 jectors, that they proceed on the supposition of a 
 miraculous reformation in the moral character of a 
 people, to be effected by some new system of edu- 
 cation. All such plans (as Mr. Hume has justly 
 observed) may be safely abandoned as impracticable 
 and visionary. But this objection does not apply 
 to the economical system ; the chief expedient of 
 which, for promoting moral improvement, is not 
 that education which depends on the attention and 
 care of our instructors ; but an education which ne- 
 cessarily results from the political order of society. 
 " How ineffectual" (said the Roman poet) " are the 
 " wisest laws, if they be not supported by good mo- 
 " rals !" How ineffectual (say the Economists) are 
 all our efforts to preserve the morals of a people, if 
 the laws which regulate the political order, doom the
 
 254? ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 one half of mankind to indigence, to fraud, to ser- 
 vility, to ignorance, to superstition ; and the other 
 half to be the slaves of all the follies and vices which 
 result from the insolence of rank, and the selfishness 
 of opulence ? Suppose for a moment, that the inor- 
 dinate accumulation of wealth in the hands of indi- 
 viduals, which we every where meet with in modern 
 Europe, were gradually diminished by abolishing the 
 law of entails, and by establishing a perfect freedom 
 of commerce and of industry ; it is almost self- 
 evident, that this simple alteration in the order of 
 society ; an alteration which has been often de- 
 monstrated to be the most effectual and the most 
 infallible measure for promoting the wealth and 
 population of a country ; would contribute, more 
 than all the labours of moralists, to secure the vir- 
 tue and the happiness of all the classes of mankind. 
 It is worthy too of remark, that such a plan of re- 
 formation does not require, for its accomplishment, 
 any new and complicated institutions ; and, there- 
 fore, does not proceed upon any exaggerated con- 
 ception of the efficacy of human policy. On the 
 contrary, it requires only (like most of the other 
 expedients proposed by this system) the gradual abo- 
 lition of those arbitrary and unjust arrangements, by 
 which the order of nature is disturbed. 
 
 Another mistaken idea concerning the economi- 
 cal system is, that it is founded entirely upon theory, 
 and unsupported by facts. That this may be the 
 case with respect to some of its doctrines, I shall not 
 dispute : but, in general, it may be safely affirmed, 
 that they rest on a broader basis of facts, than any 
 other political speculations which have been yet
 
 Sect. 8 OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 offered to the world ; for they are founded, not on 
 a few examples collected from the small number of 
 governments of which we possess an accurate know- 
 ledge ; but on those laws of human nature, and 
 those maxims of common sense, which are daily 
 verified in the intercourse of private life. 
 
 Of those who have speculated on the subject of 
 legislation, by far the greater part seem to have 
 considered it as a science sui generis ; the first prin- 
 ciples of which can be obtained in no other way, 
 than by an examination of the conduct of mankind 
 in their political capacity. The economists, on the 
 contrary, have searched for the causes of national 
 prosperity, and national improvement, in those 
 arrangements, which our daily observations shew 
 to be favourable to the prosperity and to the im- 
 provement of individuals. The former resemble 
 those philosophers of antiquity, who, affirming that 
 the phenomena of the heavens are regulated by laws 
 peculiar to themselves, discouraged every attempt 
 to investigate their physical causes, which was 
 founded upon facts collected from common experi- 
 ence. The latter have aimed at accomplishing a 
 reformation in politics, similar to what Kepler and 
 Newton accomplished in astronomy ; and, by sub- 
 jecting to that common sense, which guides mankind 
 in their private concerns, those questions, of which 
 none were supposed to be competent judges, but 
 men initiated in the mysteries of government, have 
 given a beginning to a science which has already ex- 
 tended very widely our political prospects; and 
 which, in its progress, may probably afford an illus- 
 tration, not less striking than that which physical 
 
 7
 
 56 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 astronomy exhibits, of the simplicity of those laws 
 by which the universe is governed. 
 
 When a political writer, in order to expose the 
 folly of those commercial regulations which aim at 
 the encouragement of domestic industry by re- 
 straints on importation, appeals to the maxims upon 
 which men act in private life j when he remarks, 
 that the taylor does not attempt to make his own 
 shoes, but buys them of the shoemaker j that the 
 shoemaker does not attempt to make his own clothes, 
 but employs a taylor ; and when he concludes, that 
 what is prudence in the conduct of every private 
 family, can scarcely be folly in that of a great king- 
 dom * ; he may undoubtedly be said, in one sense, 
 to indulge in theory ; as he calls in question the 
 utility of institutions which appear, from the fact, 
 to be not incompatible with a certain degree of po- 
 litical prosperity. But, in another sense, and in a 
 much more philosophical one, he may be said to 
 oppose to the false theories of statesmen, the com- 
 mon sense of mankind ; and those maxims of expe- 
 diency, of which every man may verify the truth 
 by his own daily observation. 
 
 There is yet another mistake, (of still greater 
 consequence, perhaps, than any of those I have 
 mentioned,) which has misled most of the oppo- 
 nents, and even some of the friends, of the econo- 
 mical system ; an idea that it was meant to exhibit 
 a political order, which is really attainable in the 
 present state of Europe. So different from this 
 were the views of its most enlightened advocates, 
 
 * See Mr. SMITH'S profound and original " Inquiry into 
 " the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations."
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 that they have uniformly rested their only hopes of 
 its gradual establishment in the world, on that in- 
 fluence in the conduct of human affairs, which philo- 
 sophy may be expected gradually to acquire, in con- 
 sequence of the progress of reason and civilisation. 
 To suppose that a period is ever to arrive, when it 
 shall be realised in its full extent, would be the height 
 of enthusiasm and absurdity ; but it is surely 
 neither enthusiasm nor absurdity to affirm, that go- 
 vernments are more or less perfect, in proportion 
 to the greater or smaller number of individuals to 
 whom they afford the means of cultivating their in- 
 tellectual and moral powers, and whom they admit 
 to live together on a liberal footing of equality j 
 or even to expect, that, in proportion to the progress 
 of reason, governments will actually approach nearer 
 and nearer to this description, 
 
 To delineate that state of political society to which 
 governments may be expected to approach nearer 
 and nearer as the triumphs of philosophy extend, 
 was, I apprehend, the leading object of the earliest 
 and most enlightened patrons of the economical 
 system. It is a state of society, which they by no 
 means intended to recommend to particular com- 
 munities, as the most eligible they could adopt at 
 present j but as an ideal order of things, to which 
 they have a tendency of themselves to approach, and 
 to which it ought to be the aim of the legislator to 
 facilitate their progress. In the language of ma- 
 thematicians, it forms a limit to the progressive 
 improvement of the political order ; and, in the 
 mean time, it exhibits a standard of comparison; by 
 which the excellence of particular institutions may 
 be estimated.
 
 258 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 According to the view which has now been given 
 of the economical system, its principles appear 
 highly favourable to the tranquillity of society ; in- 
 asmuch as, by inspiring us with a confidence in the 
 triumph which truth and liberty must infallibly gain 
 in the end over error and injustice, it has a tendency 
 to discourage every plan of innovation which is to be 
 supported by violence and bloodshed. And, ac- 
 cordingly, such has always been the language of 
 those who were best acquainted with the views of 
 its authors. " If we attack oppressors, before we 
 " have taught the oppressed," (says one of the 
 ablest of its present supporters *,) " we shall risk 
 " the loss of liberty, and rouse them to oppose the 
 " progress of reason. History affords proofs of this 
 " truth. How often, in spite of the efforts of the 
 " friends of freedom, has the event of a single 
 " battle reduced nations to the slavery of ages ! 
 
 " And what is the kind of liberty enjoyed by 
 " those nations, which have recovered it by force 
 " of arms, and not by the influence of philosophy ? 
 " Have not most of them confounded the forms of 
 " republicanism with the enjoyment of right, and 
 " the despotism of numbers with liberty ? How 
 " many laws, contrary to the rights of nature, have 
 ". dishonoured the code of every people which has 
 " recovered its freedom, during those ages in which 
 " reason was still in its infancy !" 
 
 " Why not profit by this fatal experience, and 
 " wisely wait the progress of knowledge, in order 
 " to obtain freedom more effectual, more substan- 
 " tial, and more peaceful ? Why pursue it by blood 
 " and inevitable confusion, and trust that to chance, 
 
 * M. CONDORCET.
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 < which time must certainly, and without blood- 
 ' shed, bestow ? A fortunate struggle may, indeed, 
 " relieve us of many grievances under which we 
 " labour at present, but if we wish to secure the 
 " perfection, and the permanence of freedom, we 
 " must patiently wait the period when men, eman- 
 " cipated from their prejudices, and guided by phi- 
 ' losophy, shall be rendered worthy of liberty, by 
 " comprehending its claims." * 
 
 Nor is it the employment of violent and sangui- 
 nary means alone, in order to accomplish political 
 innovations, that this enlightened and humane phi- 
 losophy has a tendency to discourage. By extend- 
 ing our views to the whole plan of civil society, and 
 shewing us the mutual relations and dependencies 
 of its most distant parts, it cannot fail to check that 
 indiscriminate zeal against established institutions, 
 which arises from partial views of the social system ; 
 as well as to produce a certain degree of scepticism 
 with respect to every change, the success of which 
 is not insured by the prevailing ideas and manners 
 of the age. Sanguine and inconsiderate projects 
 of reformation are frequently the offspring of clear 
 and argumentative and systematical understand- 
 ings ; but rarely of comprehensive minds. For 
 checking them, indeed, nothing is so effectual, as a 
 general survey of the complicated structure of so- 
 ciety. Even although such a survey should be su- 
 
 * To some of my readers it may appear trifling to remark, that, 
 in availing myself of an occasional coincidence of sentiment with 
 a contemporary Author, I would not be understood to become 
 responsible for the consistency of his personal conduct with his 
 philosophical principles, nor to subscribe to any one of his opi- 
 nions, but those to which I have expressed my assent by incorpo- 
 rating them with my own composition. [Note to Second Edition.'] 
 
 S 2
 
 260 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 perficial, provided it be conducted on an extensive 
 scale, it is more useful, at least, for this purpose, 
 than the most minute and successful inquiries, 
 which are circumscribed within a narrow circle. If 
 it should teach us nothing else, it will at least satisfy 
 us of the extreme difficulty of predicting, with con- 
 fidence, the remote effects of new arrangements ; 
 and that the perfection of political wisdom consists 
 not in incumbering the machine of government 
 with new contrivances to obviate every partial in- 
 convenience, but in removing gradually, and im- 
 perceptibly, the obstacles which disturb the order 
 of nature, and (as Mr. Addison somewhere expresses 
 it) " in grafting upon her institutions." 
 
 When the economical system, indeed, is first 
 presented to the mind, and when we compare the 
 perfection which it exhibits, with the actual state of 
 human affairs, it is by no means unnatural, that it 
 should suggest plans of reformation too violent and 
 sudden to be practicable. A more complete ac- 
 quaintance, however, with the subject, will effectu- 
 ally cure these first impressions, by pointing out to 
 us the mischiefs to be apprehended from an inju- 
 dicious combination of theoretical perfection with 
 our established laws, prejudices, and manners. As 
 the various unnatural modes and habits of living, 
 to which the bodily constitution is gradually recon- 
 ciled by a course of luxurious indulgences, have 
 such a tendency to correct each other's effects, as 
 to render a partial return to a more simple regimen, 
 a dangerous, and, sometimes, a fatal experiment ; so 
 it is possible, that many of our imperfect political 
 institutions may be so accommodated to each other, 
 that a partial execution of the most plausible and
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 26l 
 
 equitable plans of reformation, might tend, in the 
 first instance, to frustrate th6se important pur- 
 poses which we are anxious to promote. Is it not 
 possible, for example, that the influence which 
 is founded on a respect for hereditary rank, may 
 have its use in counteracting that aristocracy which 
 arises from inequality of wealth ; and which so 
 many laws and prejudices conspire to support ? 
 That the former species of influence is rapidly de- 
 clining of itself, in consequence of the progress 
 which commerce and philosophy have already 
 made, is sufficiently obvious ; and, I think, it may 
 reasonably be doubted, whether a well-wisher to 
 mankind would be disposed to accelerate its de- 
 struction, till the true principles of political econo- 
 my are completely understood and acknowledged 
 by the world. 
 
 Various other examples might be produced, to 
 illustrate the dangers to be apprehended from the 
 partial influence of general principles in politics ; 
 or, in other words from an exclusive attention to 
 particular circumstances in the political order, with- 
 out comprehensive views of the subject. It is 
 only upon a limited mind, therefore, that such 
 studies will produce a passion for violent innova- 
 tions. In more comprehensive and enlightened 
 understandings, their natural effect is caution and 
 diffidence with respect to the issue of every ex- 
 periment, of which we do not perceive distinctly 
 all the remote consequences. Nor is this caution at 
 all inconsistent with a firm confidence in the cer- 
 tainty of that triumph which truth and liberty must 
 infallibly gain in the end over error and injustice. 
 On the contrary, it is a natural and obvious con- 
 
 s 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV, 
 
 sequence of such a conviction ; inasmuch as the 
 same arguments on which this conviction is found- 
 ed, prove to us, that the progress of mankind 
 towards the perfection of the social order, must 
 necessarily, in every case, be gradual ; and that it 
 must be diversified in the course it takes, accord- 
 ing to the situations and characters of nations. To 
 direct, and, as far as possible, to accelerate, this 
 progress, ought to be the great aim of the en- 
 lightened statesman, and, indeed, of every man 
 who wishes well to his species j but it is necessary 
 for him always to remember, that considerable 
 alterations in the established order, are very seldom 
 to be effected immediately and directly by political 
 regulations ; and that they are, in all cases, most 
 successful and most permanent, when they are ac- 
 complished gradually by natural causes, freed from 
 those restraints which had formerly checked their 
 operation. In the governments, indeed, of modern 
 Europe, it is much more necessary to abolish old 
 institutions, than to introduce new onesj and if 
 this reformation be kept steadily in view, and not 
 pushed farther at any time than circumstances 
 render expedient, or the ideas of the times recom- 
 mend, the essential principles of a more perfect 
 order of things, will gradually establish themselves, 
 without any convulsion. 
 
 According to this view of the subject, the specu- 
 lation concerning the perfect order of society, is 
 to be regarded merely as a description of the ulti- 
 mate objects at which the statesman ought to aim. 
 The tranquillity of his administration, and the im- 
 mediate success of his measures, depend on his 
 good sense, and his practical skill. And his theo-
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 263 
 
 retical principles only enable him to direct his 
 measures steadily and wisely, to promote the im- 
 provement and happiness of mankind ; and prevent 
 him from being ever led astray from these import- 
 ant objects, by more limited views of temporary 
 expedience. * 
 
 * The foregoing observations on the general aim of the Eco- 
 nomical System refer solely (as must appear evident to those who 
 have perused them with attention) to the doctrines it contains 
 on the article of Political Economy. The Theory of Government 
 which it inculcates, is of the most dangerous tendency ; recom- 
 mending in strong and unqualified terms, an unmixed despotism ; 
 and reprobating all constitutional checks on the sovereign autho- 
 rity. Many English writers, indeed, with an almost incredible 
 ignorance of the works which they have presumed to censure, 
 have spoken of them, as if they encouraged political principles 
 of a very different complexion ; but the truth is, that the dis- 
 ciples of Quesnay (without a single exception) carried their zeal 
 for the power of the monarch, and what they called the Unity 
 of Legislation, to so extravagant a length, as to treat with con- 
 tempt, those mixed establishments which allow any share what- 
 ever of legislative influence to the representatives of the people. 
 On the one hand, the evidence of this system appeared to its 
 partisans so complete and irresistible, that they flattered them- 
 selves, monarchs would soon see, with an intuitive conviction, the 
 identity of their own interests with those of the nations they are 
 called to govern ; and, on the other hand, they contended, that 
 it is only under the strong and steady government of a race of 
 hereditary princes, undistracted by the prejudices and local in- 
 terests which warp the deliberations of popular assemblies, that 
 a gradual and systematical approach can be made to the perfec- 
 tion of law and policy. The very first of Quesnay's maxims 
 states, as a fundamental principle, that the sovereign authority, 
 unrestrained by any constitutional checks or balances, should be 
 lodged in the hands of a single person ; and the same doctrine 
 is maintained zealously by all his followers; by none of them 
 more explicitly than by Merrier de la Riviere, whose treatise on 
 " the natural and essential order of political societies," might 
 have been expected to attract some notice in this country, from 
 
 S 4
 
 264 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 , Before closing this disquisition, it may be proper 
 for me to attempt to obviate a little more fully than 
 I have done, an objection which has been frequently 
 drawn from the past experience of mankind, against 
 that supposition of their progressive improvement 
 on which all the .foregoing reasonings proceed. 
 How mournful are the vicissitudes which history 
 exhibits to us, in the course of human affairs ; and 
 how little foundation do they afford to our san- 
 guine prospects concerning futurity ! If, in those 
 parts of the earth which were formerly inhabited by 
 barbarians, we now see the most splendid exertions 
 of genius, and the happiest forms of civil policy, 
 we behold others which, in ancient times, were the 
 seats of science, of civilisation, and of liberty, at 
 present immersed in superstition, and laid waste 
 by despotism. After a short period of civil, of 
 military, and of literary glory, the prospect has 
 changed at once : the career of degeneracy has 
 begun, and has proceeded till it could advance no 
 farther ; or some unforeseen calamity has occurred, 
 which has obliterated, for a time, all memory of 
 former improvements, and has condemned mankind 
 to re-trace, step by step, the same path by which 
 
 the praise which Mr. Smith has bestowed on the perspicuity of 
 his style, and the distinctness of his arrangement. 
 
 If some individuals who formerly professed an enthusiastic at- 
 tachment to the doctrines of this sect, have, at a later period of 
 their lives, distinguished themselves by an enthusiasm no less 
 ardent in opposition to the principles advanced in their writings, 
 the fact only affords an additional illustration of a truth verified 
 by daily experience, that the most solid foundation for political 
 consistency is a spirit of moderation, and that the most natural 
 and easy of all transitions is from the violence and intolerance of 
 one extreme to those of another. [Note to Second Edition.'] 
 
 4
 
 S ee t. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 265 
 
 their forefathers had risen to greatness. In a word ; 
 on such a retrospective view of human affairs, man 
 appears to be the mere sport of fortune and of ac- 
 cident ; or rather, he appears to be doomed, by the 
 condition of his nature, to run alternately the career 
 of improvement and of degeneracy ; and to realise 
 the beautiful, but melancholy fable of Sisyphus, 
 by an eternal renovation of hope and of disap- 
 pointment. 
 
 In opposition to these discouraging views of the 
 state and prospects of man ; it may be remarked 
 in general, that in the course of these latter ages, 
 a variety of events have happened in the history of 
 the world, which render the condition of the hu- 
 man race essentially different from what it ever 
 was among the nations of antiquity ; and which, 
 of consequence, render all our reasonings con- 
 cerning their future fortunes, in so far as they are 
 founded merely on their past experience, unphi- 
 losophical and inconclusive. The alterations which 
 have taken place in the art of war, in consequence 
 .of the invention of fire-arms, and of the modern 
 science of fortification, have given to civilised 
 nations a security against the irruptions of barba^ 
 rians, which they never before possessed. The 
 more extended, and the more constant intercourse, 
 which the improvements in commerce and in the 
 art of navigation have opened, among the distant 
 quarters of the globe, cannot fail to operate in un- 
 dermining local and national prejudices, and in im- 
 parting to the whole species the intellectual acqui- 
 sitions of each particular community. The accu- 
 mulated experience of ages has already taught the 
 rulers of mankind, that the most fruitful and the
 
 266 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 most permanent sources of revenue, are to be de- 
 rived, not from conquered and tributary provinces, 
 but from the internal prosperity and wealth of 
 their own subjects: and the same experience 
 now begins to teach nations, that the increase of 
 their own wealth, so far from depending on the 
 poverty and depression of their neighbours, is in- 
 timately connected with their industry and opu- 
 lence ; and consequently, that those commercial 
 jealousies, which have hitherto been so fertile a 
 source of animosity among different states, are 
 founded entirely on ignorance and prejudice. 
 Among all the circumstances, however, which 
 distinguish the present state of mankind from that 
 of ancient nations, the invention of printing is by 
 far the most important ; and, indeed, this single 
 event, independently of every other, is sufficient 
 to change the whole course of human affairs. 
 
 The influence which printing is likely to have 
 on the future history of the world, has not, I think, 
 been hitherto examined, by philosophers, with the 
 attention which the importance of the subject de- 
 serves. One reason for this may, probably have 
 been, that, as the invention has never been made 
 but once, it has been considered rather as the 
 effect of a fortunate accident, than as the result of 
 those general causes on which the progress of 
 society seems to depend. But it may be reasonably 
 questioned, how far this idea be just. For, although 
 it shoald be allowed, that the invention of printing 
 was accidental, with respect to the individual who 
 made it, it may, with truth, be considered as the 
 natural result of a state of the world, when a 
 number of great and contiguous nations are all
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 26? 
 
 engaged in the study of literature, in the pursuit 
 of science, and in the practice of the arts : inso- 
 much, that I do not think it extravagant to affirm, 
 that, if this invention had not been made by the 
 particular person to whom it is ascribed, the same 
 art, or some analogous art, answering a similar 
 purpose, would have infallibly been invented by 
 some other person, and at no very distant period. 
 The art of printing, therefore, is intitled to be 
 considered as a step in the natural history of man, 
 no less than the art of writing ; and they who are 
 sceptical about the future progress of the race, 
 merely in consequence of its past history, reason 
 as unphilosophically, as a member of a savage 
 tribe, who, deriving his own acquaintance with 
 former times from oral tradition only, should affect 
 to call in question the efficacy of written records, 
 in accelerating the progress of knowledge and of 
 civilisation. 
 
 What will be the particular effects of this inven- 
 tion, (which has been, hitherto, much checked in 
 its operation, by the restraints on the liberty of the 
 press in the greater part of Europe,) it is beyond 
 the reach of human sagacity to conjecture ; but, in 
 general, we may venture to predict with confidence, 
 that, in every country, it will gradually operate to 
 widen the circle of science and civilisation j to dis- 
 tribute more equally, among all the members of the 
 community, the advantages of the political union j 
 and to enlarge the basis of equitable governments, 
 by increasing the number of those who understand 
 their value, and are interested to defend them. The 
 science of legislation, too, with all the other 
 branches of knowledge which are connected with
 
 268 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 human improvement, may be expected to advance 
 with rapidity ; and, in proportion as the opinions 
 and institutions of men approach to truth and to 
 justice, they will be secured against those revo- 
 lutions to which human affairs have always been 
 hitherto subject. Opinionum enim commenta dekt 
 dies, natural judicta confirmat. 
 
 The revolutions incident to the democratical 
 states of antiquity furnish no solid objection to the 
 foregoing observations j for none of these states 
 enjoyed the advantages which modern times derive 
 from the diffusion, and from the rapid circulation 
 of knowledge. In these states, most of the revo- 
 lutions which happened, arose from the struggles 
 of demagogues, who employed the passions of the 
 multitude, in subserviency to their own interest 
 and ambition ; and to all of them, the ingenious 
 and striking remark of Hobbes will be found ap- 
 plicable; that " Democracy is nothing but an 
 " aristocracy of orators, interrupted sometimes by 
 " the temporary monarchy of a single orator." 
 While this continued to be the case, democratical 
 constitutions were, undoubtedly, the most unfa- 
 vourable of any to the tranquillity of mankind j 
 and the only way to preserve the order of society 
 was, by skilfully balancing against each other, the 
 prejudices, and the separate interests, of different 
 orders of citizens. That such balances, however, 
 will every day become less necessary for checking 
 the turbulence of the democratical spirit in free 
 governments, appears probable from this j that 
 among the various advantages to be expected from 
 the liberty of the press, one of the greatest is, 
 the effect which it must necessarily have in dimi-
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 269 
 
 nishing the influence of popular eloquence ; both 
 by curing men of those prejudices upon which 
 it operates, and by subjecting it to the irresistible 
 control of enlightened opinions. In the republican 
 states of antiquity, the eloquence of demagogues 
 was indeed a dangerous engine of faction, while 
 it aspired to govern nations by its unlimited sway 
 in directing popular councils. But, now, when the 
 effusions of the orator are, by means of the press, 
 subjected to the immediate tribunal of an inquisi- 
 tive age, the eloquence of legislative assemblies is 
 forced to borrow its tone from the spirit of the 
 times ; and if it retain its ascendant in human 
 affairs, it can only be, by lending its aid to the 
 prevailing cause, and to the permanent interests of 
 truth and of freedom. 
 
 Of the progress which may yet be made in the 
 different branches of moral and political philosophy, 
 we may form some idea, from what has already 
 happened in physics, since the time that Lord Bacon 
 united, in one useful direction, the labours of those 
 who cultivate that science. At the period when 
 he wrote, physics was certainly in a more hopeless 
 state, than that of moral and political philosophy 
 in the present age. A perpetual succession of chi- 
 merical theories had, till then, amused the world ; 
 and the prevailing opinion was, that the case would 
 continue to be the same for ever. Why then should 
 we despair of the competency of the human facul- 
 ties to establish solid and permanent systems, upon 
 other subjects, which are of still more serious im- 
 portance ? Physics, it is true, is free from many 
 difficulties which obstruct our progress in moral 
 and political inquiries ; but, perhaps, this advan-
 
 270 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 tage may be more than counterbalanced, by the 
 tendency they have to engage a more universal, 
 and a more earnest attention, in consequence of 
 their coming home more immediately to our "bu- 
 siness and our bosoms." When these sciences too 
 begin to be prosecuted on a regular and system- 
 atical plan, their improvement will go on with an 
 accelerated velocity; not only as the number of 
 speculative minds will be every day increased by 
 the diffusion of knowledge, but as an acquaintance 
 with the just rules of inquiry, will more and more 
 place important discoveries within the reach of 
 ordinary understandings. " Such rules," (says 
 Lord Bacon,) " do, in some sort, equal men's wits, 
 " and leave no great advantage or pre-eminence to 
 the perfect and excellent motions of the spirit. 
 To draw a straight line, or to describe a circle, 
 " by aim of hand only, there must be a great differ- 
 " ence between an unsteady and an unpractised 
 " hand, and a steady and practised ; but, to do it 
 " by rule or compass, it is much alike." 
 
 Nor must we omit to mention the value which 
 the art of printing communicates to the most li- 
 mited exertions of literary industry, by treasuring 
 them up as materials for the future examination 
 of more enlightened inquirers. In this respect the 
 press bestows upon the sciences, an advantage 
 somewhat analogous to that which the mechanical 
 arts derive from the division of labour. As in 
 these arts, the exertions of an uninformed multi- 
 tude, are united by the comprehensive skill of the 
 artist, in the accomplishment of effects astonishing 
 by their magnitude, and by the complicated inge- 
 nuity they display j so, in the sciences, the observ-
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 ations and conjectures of obscure individuals on 
 those subjects which are level to their capacities, 
 and which fall under their own immediate notice, 
 accumulate for a course of years ; till at last, some 
 philosopher arises, who combines these scattered 
 materials, and exhibits, in his system, not merely 
 the force of a single mind, but the intellectual 
 power of the age in which he lives. 
 
 It is upon these last considerations, much more 
 than on the efforts of original genius, that I would 
 rest my hopes of the progress of the race. What 
 genius alone could accomplish in science, the world 
 has already seen : and I am ready to subscribe to 
 the opinion of those who think, that the splendor 
 of its past exertions is not likely to be obscured 
 by the fame of future philosophers. But the ex- 
 periment yet remains to be tried, what lights may 
 be thrown on the most important of all subjects, 
 by the free discussions of inquisitive nations, un- 
 fettered by prejudice, and stimulated in their in- 
 quiries by every motive that can awaken whatever 
 is either generous or selfish in human nature. 
 How trifling are the effects which the bodily 
 strength of an individual is able to produce, (how- 
 ever great may be his natural endowments,) when 
 compared with those which have been accomplished 
 by the conspiring force of an ordinary multitude ? 
 It was not the single arm of a Theseus, or a Her- 
 cules, but the hands of such men as ourselves, 
 that, in ancient Egypt, raised those monuments of 
 architecture, which remain from age to age, to 
 attest the wonders of combined and of persevering 
 industry j and, while they humble the importance 
 
 7
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 of the individual, to exalt the dignity, and to ani- 
 mate the labours, of the species. 
 
 These views with respect to the probable im- 
 provement of the world, are so conducive to the 
 comfort of those who entertain them, that even, 
 although they were founded in delusion, a wise man 
 would be disposed to cherish them. What should 
 have induced some respectable writers to contro- 
 vert them, with so great an asperity of expression, 
 it is not easy to conjecture ; for whatever may be 
 thought of their truth, their practical tendency is 
 surely favourable to human happiness ; nor can 
 that temper of mind, which disposes a man to give 
 them a welcome reception, be candidly suspected 
 of designs hostile to the interests of humanity. One 
 thing is certain, that the greatest of all obstacles to 
 the improvement of the world, is that prevailing 
 belief of its improbability, which damps the exer- 
 tions of so many individuals ; and that in propor- 
 tion as the contrary opinion becomes general, it 
 realises the event which it leads us to anticipate. 
 Surely, if any thing can have a tendency to call 
 forth in the public service the exertions of indivi- 
 duals, it must be an idea of the magnitude of that 
 work in which they are conspiring, and a belief of 
 the permanence of those benefits, which they confer 
 on mankind by every attempt to inform and to 
 enlighten them. As in ancient Rome, therefore, it 
 was regarded as the mark of a good citizen, never 
 to despair of the fortunes of the republic j-* so the 
 good citizen of the world, whatever may be the 
 political aspect of his own times, will never despair 
 of the fortunes of the human race ; but will act upon 
 the conviction, that prejudice, slavery, and corrup-
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 273 
 
 tion, must gradually give way to truth, liberty, and 
 virtue ; and that, in the moral world, as well as in 
 the material, the farther our observations extend, and 
 the longer they are continued,the more we shall per- 
 ceive of or der and of benevolent design in th e un i verse . 
 Nor is this change in the condition of Man, in con- 
 sequence of the progress of reason, by any means 
 contrary to the general analogy of his natural history. 
 In the infancy of the individual, his existence is pre- 
 served by instincts, which disappear after wards, when 
 they are no longer necessary. In the savage state of 
 our species, there are instincts which seem to form a 
 part of the human constitution ; and of which no 
 traces remain in those periods of society in which 
 their use is superseded by a more enlarged experi- 
 ence. Why then should we deny the probability of 
 something similar to this, in the history of mankind 
 considered in their political capacity? I have already 
 had occasion to observe, that the governments which 
 the world has hitherto seen, have seldom or never 
 taken their rise from deep-laid schemes of human 
 policy. In every state of society which has yet ex- 
 isted, the multitude has, in general, acted from the 
 immediate impulse of passion, or from the pressure 
 of their wants and necessities ; and, therefore, what 
 we commonly call the political order, is, at least in a 
 great measure, the result of the passions and wants 
 of man, combined with the circumstances of his situ- 
 ation ; or, in other words, it is chiefly the result of 
 the wisdom of nature. So beautifully, indeed, do 
 these passions and circumstances act in subserviency 
 to her designs, and so invariably have they been 
 found, in the history of past ages, to conduct him 
 in time to certain beneficial arrangements, that we 
 
 T
 
 274' ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 can hardly bring ourselves to believe, that the end 
 was not foreseen by those who were engaged in the 
 pursuit. Even in those rude periods of society, 
 when, like the lower animals, he follows blindly his 
 instinctive principles of action, he is led by an in- 
 visible hand, and contributes his share to .the exe- 
 cution of a plan, of the nature and advantages of 
 which he has no conception. The operations of 
 the bee, when it begins, for the first time, to form 
 its cell, conveys to us a striking image of the efforts 
 of unenlightened Man, in conducting the operations 
 of an infant government. 
 
 A great variety of prejudices might be mentioned, 
 which are found to prevail universally among our 
 species in certain periods of society, and which seem 
 to be essentially necessary for maintaining its order, 
 in ages when men are unable to comprehend the pur- 
 poses for which governments are instituted. As so- 
 ciety advances, these prejudices gradually lose their 
 influence on the higher classes, and would probably 
 soon disappear altogether, if it were not found expe- 
 dient to prolong their existence, as a source of au- 
 thority over the multitude. In an age, however, of 
 universal and of unrestrained discussion, it is impos- 
 sible that they can long maintain their empire ; nor 
 ought we to regret their decline, if the important 
 ends to which they have been subservient in the past 
 experience of mankind, are found to be accomplished 
 by the growing light of philosophy. On this suppo- 
 sition, a history of human prejudices, as far as they 
 have supplied the place of more enlarged political 
 views, may, at some future period, furnish to the phi- 
 losopher a subject of speculation, no less pleasing
 
 Sect. 8. Oi? THE HUMAN MIND. 275 
 
 and instructive, than that beneficent wisdom of na- 
 ture, which guides the operations of the lower ani- 
 mals ; and which, even in our own species, takes 
 upon itself the care of the individual in the infancy 
 of human reason. 
 
 I have only to observe farther, that, in proportion 
 as these prospects, with respect to the progress of 
 reason, the diffusion of knowledge, and the conse- 
 quent improvement of mankind,, shall be realised; 
 the political history of the world will be regulated 
 by steady and uniform causes, and the philosopher 
 will be enabled to form probable conjectures with 
 respect to the future course of human affairs. 
 
 It is justly remarked by Mr. Hume, that " what 
 *' depends on a few persons is, in a great measure, 
 " to be ascribed to chance, or secret and unknown 
 " causes : what arises from a great number, may 
 " often be accounted for by determinate and known 
 " causes." '" To judge by this rule," (he continues,) 
 " the domestic and the gradual revolutions of a state 
 " must be a more proper object of reasoning and ob- 
 " servation, than the foreign and the violent, which 
 " are commonly produced by single persons, and are 
 
 < more influenced by whim, folly, or caprice, than 
 " by general passions and interests. The depression 
 of theLords, and rise of the Commons, in England, 
 ; < after the statutes of alienation and the increase of 
 
 ' trade and industry, are more easily accounted for 
 ; < by general principles, than the depression of the 
 " Spanish, and rise of the French monarchy, after 
 
 < the death of Charles the Fifth. Had Harry the 
 ' Fourth, Cardinal Ilichlieu, and Louis the Four- 
 * teenth, been Spaniards ; and Philip the Second, 
 
 ! Third, and Fourth, and Charles the Second, been
 
 76 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. IV. 
 
 " Frenchmen ; the history of these nations had been 
 " entirely reversed." 
 
 From these principles, it would seem to be a neces- 
 sary consequence, that, in proportion as the circum- 
 stances shall operate which I have been endeavour- 
 ing to illustrate, the whole system of human affairs, 
 including both the domestic order of society in par- 
 ticular states, and the relations which exist among 
 different communities, in consequence of war and 
 negotiation, will be subjected to the influence of 
 causes which are " known and determinate." Those 
 domestic affairs, which, according to Mr. Hume, are 
 already proper subjects of reasoning and observ- 
 ation, in consequence of their dependence on gene- 
 ral interests and passions, will become so, more and 
 more, daily, as prejudices shall decline, and know- 
 ledge shall be diffused among the lower orders ; 
 while the relations among different states, which 
 have depended hitherto, in a great measure, on the 
 " whim, folly, and caprice," of single persons, will 
 be gradually more and more regulated by the general 
 interests of the individuals who compose them, and 
 by the popular opinions of more enlightened times. 
 Already, during the very short interval which has 
 elapsed since the publication of Mr. Hume's writings, 
 an astonishing change has taken place in Europe. 
 The mysteries of courts have been laid open ; the 
 influence of secret negotiation on the relative 
 situation of states has declined ; and the studies 
 of those men whose public spirit or ambition de- 
 votes them to the service of their country, have 
 been diverted from the intrigues of cabinets, and the 
 details of the diplomatic code, to the liberal and 
 manly pursuits of political philosophy.
 
 Chap.V. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 277 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 Of the Association of Ideas. 
 
 THE subject on which I am now to enter, naturally 
 divides itself into two Parts. The First, relates to 
 the influence of Association, in regulating the suc- 
 cession of our thoughts j the Second, to its influence 
 on the intellectual powers, and on the moral cha- 
 racter, by the more intimate and indissoluble com- 
 binations which it leads us to form in infancy and 
 in early youth. The two inquiries, indeed, run 
 into each other ; but it will contribute much to the 
 order of our speculations, to keep the foregoing ar- 
 rangement in view. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 Of the Influence of Association in regulating the 
 Succession of our Thoughts. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 General Observations on this Part of our Constitution, and on the 
 Language of Philosophers ivith respect to it. 
 
 THAT one thought is often suggested to the mind 
 by another ; and that the sight of an external object 
 often recals former occurrences, and revives former 
 feelings, are facts which are perfectly familiar, even 
 
 T 3
 
 278 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V- 
 
 to those who are the least disposed to speculate 
 concerning the principles of their nature. In pass- 
 ing along a road which we have formerly travelled 
 in the company of a friend, the particulars of the 
 conversation in which we were then engaged, are 
 frequently suggested to. us by the objects we meet 
 with. In such a scene, we recollect that a particu- 
 lar subject was started ; and, in passing the different 
 houses, and plantations, and rivers, the arguments 
 we were discussing when we last saw them, recur 
 spontaneously to the memory. The connexion 
 which is formed in the mind between the words of 
 a language and the ideas they denote ; the con- 
 nexion which is formed between the different words 
 of a discourse we have committed to memory ; the 
 connexion between the different notes of a piece of 
 music in the mind of the musician, are all obvious 
 instances of the same general law of our nature. 
 
 The influence of perceptible objects in reviving 
 former thoughts and former feelings, is more par- 
 ticularly remarkable. After time has, in some de- 
 gree, reconciled us to the death of a friend, how 
 wonderfully are we affected the first time we enter 
 the house where he lived! Every thing we see; 
 the apartment where he studied ; the chair upon 
 which he sat, recal to us the happiness we have en- 
 joyed together; and we should feel it a sort of 
 violation of that respect we owe to his memory, to 
 engage in any light or indifferent discourse when 
 such objects are before us. In the case, too, of 
 those remarkable scenes which interest the curio- 
 sity, from the memorable persons or transactions 
 which we have been accustomed to connect with
 
 Parti. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 279 
 
 them in the course of our studies, the fancy is more 
 awakened by the actual perception of the scene 
 itself, than by the mere conception or imagination 
 of it. Hence the pleasure we enjoy in visiting 
 classical ground ; in beholding the retreats which 
 inspired the genius of our favourite authors, or the 
 fields which have been dignified by exertions of 
 heroic virtue. How feeble are the emotions pro- 
 duced by the liveliest conception of modern Italy, 
 to what the poet felt, when, amidst the ruins of 
 Rome, 
 
 " He drew th' inspiring breath of ancient arts, 
 " And trod the sacred walks 
 ." Where, at each step, imagination burns!"* 
 
 The well-known effect of a particular tune on 
 Swiss regiments when at a distance from home, fur- 
 nishes a very striking illustration of the peculiar 
 power of a perception, or of an impression on the 
 senses, to awaken associated thoughts and feelings ; 
 and numberless facts of a similar nature must have 
 occurred to every person of moderate sensibility, in 
 the course of his own experience. 
 
 " Whilst we were at dinner, " (says Captain 
 King,) " in this miserable hut, on the banks of the 
 " river Awatska ; the guests of a people with whose 
 " existence we had before been scarce acquainted, 
 " and at the extremity of the habitable globe ; a 
 " solitary, half-worn pewter spoon, whose shape was 
 " familiar to us, attracted our attention ; and, on 
 " examination, we found it stamped on the back 
 " with the word London. I cannot pass over this 
 
 * " Quacunque ingredimur," (says Cicero, speaking of 
 Athens,) " in aliquam historian vestigium ponimus," 
 
 T 4
 
 280 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " circumstance in silence, out of gratitude for the 
 " many pleasant thoughts, the anxious hopes, and 
 " tender remembrances, it excited in us. Those 
 " who have experienced the effects that long ab- 
 " sence, and extreme distance from their native 
 " country, produce on the mind, will readily con- 
 " ceive the pleasure such a trifling incident can 
 " give.'* 
 
 The difference between the effect of a perception 
 and an idea, in awakening associated thoughts and 
 feelings, is finely described in the introduction to 
 the fifth book De Finibus. 
 
 " We agreed," (says Cicero,) " that we should 
 " take our afternoon's walk in the academy, as at 
 " that time of the day it was a place where there 
 " was no resort of company. Accordingly, at the 
 " hour appointed, we went to Piso's. We passed 
 " the time in conversing on different matters during 
 " our short walk from the double gate, till we came 
 " to the academy, that justly celebrated spot; which, 
 " as we wished, we found a perfect solitude." " I 
 " know not," (said Piso,) " whether it be a natural 
 " feeling, or an illusion of the imagination founded 
 " on habit, that we are more powerfully affected 
 " by the sight of those places which have been much 
 " frequented by illustrious men, than when we 
 " either listen to the recital, or read the detail, of 
 " their great actions. At this moment, I feel 
 " strongly that emotion which I speak of. I see 
 " before me, the perfect form of Plato, who was 
 " wont to dispute in this very place : these gardens 
 " not only recal him to my memory, but present 
 " his very person to my senses. I fancy to myself, 
 
 7
 
 Partial. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 281 
 
 " that here stood Speusippus ; there Xenocrates, 
 " and here, on this bench, sat his disciple Polemo. 
 " To me, our ancient senate-house seems peopled 
 " with the like visionary forms ; for, often, when 
 " I enter it, the shades of Scipio, of Cato, and of 
 " Laelius, and, in particular, of my venerable grand- 
 " father, rise to my imagination. In short, such is 
 " the effect of local situation in recalling associated 
 " ideas to the mind, that it is not without reason, 
 " some philosophers have founded on this principle 
 " a species of artificial memory." 
 
 This influence of perceptible objects, in awaken- 
 ing associated thoughts and associated feelings, 
 seems to arise, in a great measure, from their per- 
 manent operation as exciting or suggesting causes. 
 When a train of thought takes its rise from an idea 
 or conception, the first idea soon disappears, and a 
 series of others succeeds, which are gradually less 
 and less related to that with which the train com- 
 menced ; but, in the case of perception, the ex- 
 citing cause remains steadily before us ; and all the 
 thoughts and feelings which have any relation to it, 
 crowd into the mind in rapid succession j strength- 
 ening each other's effects, and all conspiring in the 
 same general impression. 
 
 I already observed, that the connexions which 
 exist among our thoughts, have been long familiarly 
 known to the vulgar, as well as to philosophers. It 
 is, indeed, only of late, that we have been possessed 
 of an appropriated phrase to express them ; but that 
 the general fact is not a recent discovery, may be 
 inferred from many of the common maxims of 
 prudence and of propriety, which have plainly been
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 suggested by an attention to this part of our con- 
 stitution. When we lay it down, for example, as a 
 general rule, to avoid in conversation all expres- 
 sions, and all topics of discourse, which have any 
 relation, however remote, to ideas of an unpleasant 
 nature, we plainly proceed on the supposition that 
 there are certain connexions among our thoughts, 
 which have an influence over the order of their 
 succession. It is unnecessary to remark, how much 
 of the comfort and good-humour of social life de- 
 pends on an attention to this consideration. Such 
 attentions are more particularly essential in our 
 intercourse with men of the world ; for the com- 
 merce of society has a wonderful effect in increas- 
 ing the quickness and the facility with which we 
 associate all ideas which have any reference to life 
 and manners * ; and, of consequence, it must ren- 
 der the sensibility alive to many circumstances 
 which, from the remoteness of their relation to the 
 situation and history of the parties, would other- 
 wise have passed unnoticed. 
 
 When an idea, however, is thus suggested by 
 association, it produces a slighter, impression, or, at 
 least, it produces its impression more gradually, 
 than if it were presented more directly and imme- 
 
 * The superiority which the man of the world possesses over 
 the recluse student, in his knowledge of mankind, is partly the 
 result of this quickness and facility of association. Those trifling 
 circumstances in conversation and behaviour, which, to the lat 
 ter, convey only their most obvious and avowed meaning, lay 
 open to the former, many of the trains of thought which are con- 
 nected with them, and frequently give him a distinct view of a 
 character, on that very side where it is supposed to be most con* 
 cealed from his observation.
 
 Part I. 1. F THE HUMAN MltfD. 283 
 
 diately to the mind. And hence, when we are 
 under a necessity of communicating any disagree- 
 able information to another, delicacy leads us, in- 
 stead of mentioning the thing itself, to mention 
 something else from which our meaning may be 
 understood. In this manner, we prepare our 
 hearers for the unwelcome intelligence. 
 
 The distinction between gross and delicate flat- 
 tery, is founded upon the same principle. As 
 nothing is more offensive than flattery which is 
 direct and pointed, praise is considered as happy 
 and elegant, in proportion to the slightness of the 
 associations by which it is conveyed. 
 
 To this tendency which one thought has to in- 
 troduce another, philosophers have given the name 
 of the Association of Ideas ; and, as I would not 
 wish, excepting in a case of necessity, to depart from 
 common language, or to expose myself to the 
 charge of delivering old doctrines in a new form, 
 I shall continue to make use of the same expres- 
 sion. I am sensible, indeed, that the expression 
 is by no means unexceptionable j and that, if it be 
 used (as it frequently has been) to comprehend 
 those laws by which the succession of all our 
 thoughts and of all our mental operations is regu- 
 lated, the word idea must be understood in a sense 
 much more extensive than it is commonly employed 
 in. It is very justly remarked by Dr. Reid, that 
 " memory, judgment, reasoning, passions, affec- 
 " tions, and purposes ; in a word, every operation 
 of the mind, excepting those of sense, is excited 
 " occasionally in the train of our thoughts : so that, 
 " if we make the train of our thoughts to be only
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " a train of ideas, the word idea must be un- 
 " derstood to denote all these operations." In 
 continuing, therefore, to employ, upon this sub- 
 ject, that language, which has been consecrated by 
 the practice of our best philosophical writers in 
 England, I would not be understood to dispute the 
 advantages which might be derived from the in- 
 troduction of a new phrase, more precise and more 
 applicable to the fact. 
 
 The ingenious author whom I last quoted, seems 
 to think that the association of ideas has no claim to 
 be considered as an original principle, or as an 
 ultimate fact in our nature. " I believe," (says 
 he,) " that the original principles of the mind, of 
 " which we can give no account, but that such is 
 " our constitution, are more in number than is 
 " commonly thought. But we ought not to mul- 
 " tiply them without necessity. That trains of 
 " thinking, which by frequent repetition have be- 
 " come familiar, should spontaneously offer them- 
 " selves to our fancy, seems to require no other 
 " original quality but the power of habit." 
 
 With this observation I cannot agree ; because I 
 think it more philosophical to resolve the power of 
 habit into the association of ideas, than to resolve 
 the association of ideas into habit. 
 
 The word habit, in the sense in which it is com- 
 monly employed, expresses that facility which the 
 mind acquires, in all its exertions, both animal and 
 intellectual, in consequence of practice. We apply 
 it to the dexterity of the workman ; to the extem- 
 porary fluency of the orator ; to the rapidity of the 
 arithmetical accountant. That this facility is the
 
 Part I. $ 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 285 
 
 effect of practice, we know from experience to be a 
 fact ; but it does not seem to be an ultimate fact, 
 nor incapable of analysis. 
 
 In the Essay on Attention, I shewed that the 
 effects of practice are produced partly on the body, 
 and partly op the mind. The muscles which we 
 employ in mechanical operations, become stronger, 
 and become more obedient to the will. This is 
 a fact, of which it is probable that philosophy will 
 never be able to give any explanation. 
 
 But even in mechanical operations, the effects of 
 practice are produced partly on the mind ; and, as 
 far as this is the case, they are resolvable into what 
 philosophers call the association of ideas; or into 
 that general fact, which Dr. Reid himself has 
 stated, "that trains of thinking, which, by frequent 
 " repetition, have become familiar, spontaneously 
 " offer themselves to the mind." In the case of 
 habits which are purely intellectual, the effects of 
 practice resolve themselves completely into this 
 principle : and it appears to me more precise and 
 more satisfactory, to state the principle itself as a 
 law of our constitution, than to slur it over under 
 the concise appellation of habit, which we apply in 
 common to mind and to body. 
 
 The tendency in the human mind to associate or 
 connect its thoughts together, is sometimes called 
 (but very improperly) the imagination. Between 
 these two parts of our constitution, there is indeed 
 a very intimate relation ; and it is probably owing 
 to this relation, that they have been so generally 
 confounded under the same name. When the 
 mind is occupied about absent object^ of sense,
 
 286 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. T. 
 
 (which, 1 believe, it is habitually in the great 
 majority of mankind,) its train of thought is merely 
 a series of conceptions ; or, in common language, 
 of imaginations. * In the case, too, of poetical 
 imagination, it is the association of ideas that sup. 
 plies the materials out of which its combinations 
 are formed ; and when such an imaginary combi- 
 nation is become familiar to the mind, it is the 
 association of ideas that connects its different 
 parts together, and unites them into one whole. ' 
 The association of ideas, therefore, although per- 
 fectly distinct from the power of imagination, is 
 immediately and essentially subservient to all its 
 exertions. 
 
 The last observation seems to me to point out, 
 also, the circumstance which has led the greater 
 part of English writers, to use the words Imagin- 
 ation and Fancy as synonymous. It is obvious that 
 a creative imagination, when a person possesses it 
 so habitually that it may be regarded as forming 
 one of the characteristics of his genius, implies a 
 power of summoning up, at pleasure, a particular 
 class of ideas ; and of ideas related to each other 
 in a particular manner ; which power can be the 
 result only, of certain habits of association, which 
 the individual has acquired. It is to this power of 
 the mind, which is eyidently a particular turn of 
 thought, and not one of the common principles of 
 our nature, that our best writers (so far as I am 
 
 * Accordingly, Hobbes calls the train of thought in the mind, 
 " Consequentia sive series imagination um." " Per seriera ima- 
 " ginationum intelligo successionem unius cogitationis ad 
 " aliam." LEVIATHAN, cap. iii.
 
 Parti. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 287 
 
 able to judge) refer, in general, when they make 
 use of the word fancy : I say, in general ; for in 
 disquisitions of this sort, in which the best writers 
 are seldom precise and steady in the employment 
 of words, it is only to their prevailing practice that 
 we can appeal as an authority. What the particular 
 relations are, by which those ideas are connected 
 that are subservient to poetical imagination, I shall 
 not inquire at present. I think they are chiefly 
 those of resemblance and analogy. But whatever 
 they may be, the power of summoning up at 
 pleasure the ideas so related, as it is the ground- 
 work of poetical genius, is of sufficient importance 
 in the human constitution to deserve an appro- 
 priated name ; and, for this purpose, the word 
 jancy would appear to be the most convenient that 
 our language affords. 
 
 Dr. REID has somewhere observed, that " the part 
 " of our constitution on which the association of 
 " ideas depends, was called, by the older English 
 " writers, the fantasy or fancy ;" an use of the 
 word, we may remark, which coincides, in many 
 instances, with that which I propose to make of it. 
 It differs from it only in this, that these writers ap- 
 plied it to the association of ideas in general, whereas 
 I restrict its application to that habit of association, 
 which is subservient to poetical imagination. 
 
 According to the explanation which has now been 
 given of the word Fancy, the office of this power is 
 to collect materials for the Imagination ; and there- 
 fore the latter power presupposes the former, while 
 the former does not necessarily suppose the latter. 
 A man whose habits of association present to him,
 
 288 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 for illustrating or embellishing a subject, a number 
 of resembling or of analogous ideas, we call a man of 
 fancy; but for an effort of imagination, various 
 other powers are necessary, particularly the powers 
 of taste and of judgment ; without which, we can 
 hope to produce nothing that will be a source of 
 pleasure to others. It is the power of fancy which 
 supplies the poet with metaphorical language, and 
 with all the analogies which are the foundation of 
 his allusions ; but it is the power of imagination 
 that creates the complex scenes he describes, and 
 the fictitious characters he delineates. To fancy, 
 we apply the epithets of rich or luxuriant ; to ima- 
 gination, those of beautiful or sublime. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of the Principles of Association among our Ideas. 
 
 THE facts which I stated in the former section, 
 to illustrate the tendency of a perception, or of an 
 idea, to suggest ideas related to it, are so obvious 
 as to be matter of common remark. But the rela* 
 tions which connect all our thoughts together, and 
 the laws which regulate their succession, were but 
 little attended to before the publication of Mr. 
 Hume's writings. 
 
 It is well known to those who are in the least 
 conversant with the present state of metaphysical 
 science, that this eminent writer has attempted to 
 reduce all the principles of association among our 
 ideas to three : Resemblance, Contiguity in time 
 and place, and Cause and Effect. The attempt was
 
 Part I. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 289 
 
 great, and worthy of his genius ; but it has been 
 shewn by several writers since his time *, that his 
 enumeration is not only incomplete, but that it is 
 even indistinct, so far #s it goes. 
 
 It is not necessary for my present purpose, that I 
 should enter into a critical examination of this part 
 of Mr. Hume's system ; or that I should attempt to 
 specify those principles of association which he has 
 omitted. Indeed, it does not seem to me, that the 
 problem admits of a satisfactory solution ; for there 
 is no possible relation among the objects of our 
 knowledge, which may not serve to connect them 
 together in the mind : and, therefore, although one 
 enumeration may be more comprehensive than 
 another, a perfectly complete enumeration is 
 scarcely to be expected. 
 
 Nor is it merely in consequence of the relations 
 among things, that our notions of them are associ- 
 
 * See, in particular, Lord Kaimes's Elements of Criticism, 
 and Dr. Gerard's Essay on Genius. See also Dr. Campbell's 
 Philosophy of Rhetoric, vol. i. p. 197. 
 
 It is observed by Dr. Beattie, that something like an attempt 
 to enumerate the laws of association is to be found in Aristotle ; 
 who, in speaking of Recollection, insinuates, with his usual bre- 
 vity, that " the relations, by which we are led from one thought 
 " to another, in tracing out, or hunting after" (as he calls it,) 
 any particular thought which does not immediately occur, are 
 *' chiefly three ; Resemblance, Contrariety, and Contiguity." 
 See Dissertations, Moral and Critical, p. 9. Also p. 145. 
 
 The passage to which Dr. Beattie refers is as follows: 
 
 'Orav tit ava^iijUVfitrxwjuESa, MvapiVot, TOJV TTfOTSjjwv -nva xiyrjo-fwy, lug ay 
 sS' wv txEtvn tJwSf. Ato xat TO t$t];-nf SrjpfuojuEy wwavrsj 
 vw, ri aXXa Ttvo ; -, xai $' Cjuoty, *) 
 
 ARISTOT. de Memor. et Reminisc. vol. i. p. 681. Edit. Du VAL. 
 
 u
 
 290 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 ated: they are frequently coupled together by 
 means of relations among the words which denote 
 them j such as a similarity of sound, or other cir- 
 cumstances still more trifling. The alliteration 
 which is so common in poetry, and in proverbial 
 sayings, seems to arise, partly at least, from associ- 
 ations of ideas founded on the accidental circum- 
 stance, of the two words which express them be- 
 ginning with the same letter. 
 
 " Bat thousands die, without or this or that, 
 Die ; and endow a College, or a Cat." 
 
 POPE'S Ep. to Lord BATHUKST. 
 
 '.'. Ward tried, on Puppies, and the Poor, his drop." 
 
 Id. Imitat. of HORACE. 
 
 <f Puffs, powders, patches ; Bibles, billets-doux." 
 
 RAPE of the LOCK. 
 
 This indeed pleases only on slight occasions, when 
 it may be supposed that the mind is in some degree 
 playful, and under the influence of those principles 
 of association which commonly take place when we 
 are careless and disengaged. Every person must 
 be offended with the second ^ine of the following 
 couplet, which forms part of a very sublime descrip- 
 tion of the Divine power : 
 
 " Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal part, 
 As full, as perfect, in a Hair as Heart." 
 
 ESSAY on MAN, Ep. i. 
 
 To these observations, it may be added, that 
 things which have no known relation to each other 
 are often associated, in consequence of their pro- 
 ducing similar effects on the mind. Some of the
 
 Part I. J2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 finest poetical allusions are founded on this prin- 
 ciple ; and accordingly, if the reader is not possess- 
 ed of sensibility congenial to that of the poet, he 
 will be apt to overlook their meaning, or to censure 
 them as absurd. To such a critic it would not be 
 easy to vindicate the beauty of the following stanza, 
 in an Ode addressed to a Lady by the Author of 
 the Seasons : 
 
 " Oh thou, whose tender, serious eye 
 Expressive speaks the soul I love ; 
 The gentle azure of the sky, 
 
 The pensive shadows of the grove." 
 
 I have already said, that the view of the subject 
 which I propose to take, does not require a complete 
 enumeration of our principles of association. There 
 is, however, an important distinction among them, 
 to which I shall have occasion frequently to refer ; 
 and which, as far as I know, has not hitherto at- 
 tracted the notice of philosophers. The relations 
 upon which some of them are founded, are perfectly 
 obvious to the mind; those which are the foundation 
 of others, are discovered only in consequence of 
 particular efforts of attention. Of the former kind, 
 are the relations of Resemblance and Analogy, of 
 Contrariety, of Vicinity in time and place, and those 
 which arise from accidental coincidences in the 
 sound of different words. These, in general, con- 
 nect our thoughts together, when they are suffered 
 to take their natural course, and when we are con- 
 scious of little or no active exertion. Of the latter 
 kind, are the relations of Cause and Effect, of Means 
 and End, of Premises and Conclusion ; and those 
 
 u 2
 
 292 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 others, which regulate the train of thought in the 
 mind of the philosopher, when he is engaged in a 
 particular investigation. 
 
 It is owing to this distinction, that transitions, 
 which would be highly offensive in philosophical 
 writing, are the most pleasing of any in poetry. In 
 the former species of composition, we expect to see 
 an Author lay down a distinct plan or method, and 
 observe it rigorously ; without allowing himself to 
 ramble into digressions, suggested by the accidental 
 ideas or expressions, which may occur to him in his 
 progress. In that state of mind in which Poetry is 
 read, such digressions are not only agreeable, but 
 necessary to the effect; and an arrangement founded 
 on the spontaneous and seemingly casual order of 
 our thoughts, pleases more than one suggested by 
 an accurate analysis of the subject. 
 
 How absurd would the long digression in praise 
 of Industry, in Thomson's Autumn, appear, if it 
 occurred in a prose essay ! a digression, however, 
 which, in that beautiful poem, arises naturally and 
 insensibly from the view of a luxuriant harvest ; 
 and which as naturally leads the Poet back to the 
 point where his excursion began ,: 
 
 ,0 t 
 
 All is the gift of Industry ; whate'er 
 Exalts, embellishes, and renders life 
 Delightful. Pensive Winter, cheer'd by him, 
 Sits at the social fire, and happy hears 
 TV excluded tempest idly rave along; 
 His harden'd fiugers deck the gaudy Spring; 
 Without him Summer were an arid waste ; 
 Nor to th' Autumnal months could thus transmit 
 Those full, mature, immeasurable stores, 
 That waving round, recal my wand'ring Song."
 
 Part I. 2. F THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 In Goldsmith's Traveller, the transitions are ma- 
 naged with consummate skill ; and yet, how differ- 
 ent from that logical method which would be suited 
 to a philosophical discourse on the state of society in 
 the different parts of Europe ! Some of the finest 
 are suggested by the associating principle of Con- 
 trast. Thus, after describing the effeminate and 
 debased Romans, the Poet proceeds to the Swiss : 
 
 " My soul, turn from them turn we to survey 
 Where rougher climes a nobler race display/' 
 
 And, after painting some defects in the manners of 
 this gallant but unrefined people, his thoughts are 
 led to those of the French : 
 
 " To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, 
 I turn and France displays hef bright domain." 
 
 The transition which occurs in the following lines, 
 seems to be suggested by the accidental mention of 
 a word j and is certainly one of the happiest in our 
 language : 
 
 " Heavens! how unlike their Belgic Sires of old ! 
 Rough, poor, content, ungovernably bold ; 
 War in each breast, and freedom on each brow, 
 How much unlike the sons of Britain now ! 
 Fir'd at the sound, my Genius spreads her wing, 
 And flies, where Britain courts the western spring.'* 
 
 Numberless illustrations of the same remark might 
 be collected from the ancient Poets, more particu- 
 larly from the Georgics of Virgil, where the singu- 
 lar felicity of the transitions has attracted the notice 
 even of those, who have been the least disposed to 
 
 u 3
 
 294 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY [ Chap. V. 
 
 indulge themselves in philosophical refinements con- 
 cerning the principles of criticism. A celebrated 
 instance of this kind occurs in the end of the first 
 Book j the consideration of the weather and of its 
 common prognostics leading the fancy, in the first 
 place, to those more extraordinary phenomena 
 which, according to the superstitious belief of the 
 vulgar, are the forerunners of political Revolutions; 
 and, afterwards, to the Death of Caesar, and the 
 battles of Pharsalia and Philippi. The manner in 
 which the Poet returns to his original subject, dis- 
 plays that exquisite art which is to be derived only 
 from the diligent and enlightened study of nature. 
 
 " Scilicet et tempus veniet, cum finibus illis 
 Agricola, incurvo terram molitus aratro, 
 Exesa inveniet scabra rubigine pila ; 
 Aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanes, 
 Grandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulchris." 
 
 The facility with which ideas are associated in the 
 mind, is very different in different individuals : a 
 circumstance which, as I shall afterwards shew, lays 
 the foundation of remarkable varieties among men, 
 both in respect of genius and of character. I am 
 inclined, too, to think that, in the other sex, (pro- 
 bably in consequence of early education,) ideas are 
 more easily associated together, than in the minds 
 of men. Hence the liveliness of their fancy, and 
 the superiority they possess in epistolary writing, 
 and in those kinds of poetry, in which the principal 
 recommendations are, ease of thought and expres- 
 sion. Hence, too, the facility with which they 
 contract or lose habits, and accommodate their
 
 Part I. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 295 
 
 minds to new situations ; and, I may add, the dis- 
 position they have to that species of superstition 
 which is founded on accidental combinations of 
 circumstances. The influence which this facility 
 of association has on the power of Taste, shall be 
 afterwards considered. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of the Power which the Mind has over the Train of its Thoughts. 
 
 By means of the Association of Ideas, a constant 
 current of thoughts, if I may use the expression, is 
 made to pass through the mind while we are awake. 
 Sometimes the current is interrupted, and the 
 thoughts diverted into a new channel, in conse- 
 quence of the ideas suggested by other men, or of the 
 objects of perception with which we are surrounded. 
 So completely, however, is the mind in this parti- 
 cular subjected to physical laws, that it has been 
 justly observed *, we cannot, by an effort of our 
 will, call up any one thought j and that the train of 
 our ideas depends on causes which operate in a 
 manner inexplicable by us. 
 
 This observation, although it has been censured 
 as paradoxical, is almost self-evident ; for, to call 
 up a particular thought, supposes it to be already in 
 the mind. As I shall have frequent occasion, how- 
 ever, to refer to the observation afterwards, I shall 
 endeavour to obviate the only objection which, I 
 think, can reasonably be urged against it; and which 
 is founded on that operation of the mind which is 
 
 * By Lord KAIMES and others, 
 u 4
 
 296 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 commonly called recollection or intentional me- 
 mory. 
 
 It is evident, that before we attempt to recollect 
 the particular circumstances of any event, that event 
 in general must have been an object of our attention. 
 We remember the outlines of the story, but cannot 
 at first give a complete account of it. If we wish to 
 recal these circumstances, there are only two ways 
 in which we can proceed. We must either form dif- 
 ferent suppositions, and then consider which of these 
 tallies bestwith the other circumstances of the event j 
 or, by revolving in our mind the circumstances we 
 remember, we must endeavour to excite the recol- 
 lection of the other circumstances associated with 
 them. The first of these processes is, properly speak- 
 ing, an inference of reason, and plainly furnishes no 
 exception to the 'doctrine already delivered. We 
 have an instance of the other mode of recollection, 
 when we are at a loss for the beginning of a sentence 
 in reciting a composition that we do not perfectly 
 remember ; in which case we naturally repeat over, 
 two or three times, the concluding words of the pre- 
 ceding sentence, in order to call up the other words 
 which used to be connected with them in the me- 
 mory. In this instance, it is evident, that the cir- 
 cumstances we desire to remember, are not recalled 
 to the mind in immediate consequence of an exer- 
 tion of volition, but are suggested by some other cir- 
 cumstances with which they are connected, inde- 
 pendently of our will, by the laws of our constitution. 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, the immediate depend- 
 ence of the train of our thoughts on the laws of 
 association, it must not be imagined that the will
 
 Part I. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 297 
 
 possesses no influence over it. This influence, in- 
 deed, is not exercised directly and immediately, as 
 we are apt to suppose, on a superficial view of the 
 subject : but it is, nevertheless, very extensive in 
 its effects ; and the different degrees in which it is 
 possessed by different individuals, constitute some 
 of the most striking inequalities among men, in 
 point of intellectual capacity. 
 
 Of the powers which the mind possesses over the 
 train of its thoughts, the most obvious is its power 
 of singling out any one of them at pleasure ; of de- 
 taining it ; and of making it a particular object of 
 attention. By doing so, we not only stop the suc- 
 cession that would otherwise take place ; but, in 
 consequence of our bringing to view the less ob- 
 vious relations among our ideas, we frequently 
 divert the current of our thoughts into a new chan- 
 nel. If, for example, when I am indolent and in- 
 active, the name of Sir Isaac Newton accidentally 
 occur to me, it will perhaps suggest, one after 
 another, the names of some other eminent mathe- 
 maticians and astronomers, or of some of his illus- 
 trious contemporaries and friends : and a number 
 of them may pass in review before me, without 
 engaging my curiosity in any considerable degree. 
 In a different state of mind, the name of Newton 
 will lead my thoughts to the principal incidents of 
 his life, and the more striking! features of his cha- 
 racter : or, if my mind be ardent and vigorous, will 
 lead my attention to the sublime discoveries he 
 made ; and gradually engage me in some philoso- 
 phical investigation. To every object, there are 
 others which bear obvious and striking relations j
 
 298 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 and others, also, whose relation to it does not 
 readily occur to us, unless we dwell upon it for 
 some time, and place it before us in different points 
 of view. 
 
 But the principal power we possess over the 
 train of our ideas, is founded on the influence which 
 our habits of thinking have on the laws of Associ- 
 ation ; an influence which is so great, that we may 
 often form a pretty shrewd judgment concerning 
 a man's prevailing turn of thought, from the tran- 
 sitions he makes in conversation or in writing. It 
 is well known, too, that by means of habit, a par- 
 ticular associating principle may be strengthened 
 to such a degree, as to give us a command of all 
 the different ideas in our mind, which have a cer- 
 tain relation to each other ; so that when any one 
 of the class occurs to us, we have almost a certainty 
 that it will suggest the rest. What confidence in 
 his own powers must a speaker possess, when he 
 rises without premeditation, in a popular assembly, 
 to amuse his audience with a lively or an humor- 
 ous speech ! Such a confidence, it is evident, can 
 only arise from a Jong experience of the strength 
 of particular associating principles. 
 
 To how great a degree this part of our consti- 
 tution may be influenced by habit, appears from 
 facts which are familiar to every one. A man who 
 has an ambition to become a punster, seldom or 
 never fails in the attainment of his object ; that is, 
 he seldom or never fails in acquiring a power which 
 other men have not, of summoning up, on a par- 
 ticular occasion, a number of words different from 
 each other in meaning, and resembling each other
 
 Part I. . 3. F THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 more or less, in sound. I am inclined to think 
 that even genuine wit is a habit acquired in a 
 similar way ; and that, although some individuals 
 may, from natural constitution, be more fitted than 
 others to acquire this habit ; it is founded in every 
 case on a peculiarly strong association among cer- 
 tain classes of our ideas, which gives the person 
 who possesses it, a command over those ideas which 
 is denied to ordinary men. But there is no in- 
 stance in which the effect of habits of association 
 is more remarkable, than in those men who possess 
 a facility of rhyming. That a man should be able 
 to express his thoughts perspicuously and elegantly, 
 under the restraints which rhyme imposes, would 
 appear to be incredible, if we did not know it to be 
 fact. Such a power implies a wonderful command 
 both of ideas and of expressions ; and yet daily ex- 
 perience shews that it may be gained with very 
 little practice. . Pope tells us with respect to him- 
 self, that he could express himself not only more 
 concisely, but more easily, in rhyme than in prose. * 
 Nor is it only in these trifling accomplishments 
 that we may trace the influence of habits of asso- 
 ciation. In every instance of invention, either in the 
 fine arts, in the mechanical arts, or in the sciences, 
 there is some new idea, or some new combination 
 of ideas, brought to light by the inventor. This, 
 
 * " When habit is once gained, nothing so easy as practice. 
 " Cicero writes, that Antipater the Sidonian could pour forth 
 " hexameters extempore ; and that, whenever he chose to versify, 
 " words followed g him of course. We may add to Antipater, the 
 " antient rhapsodists of the Greeks, and the modern improvisa- 
 " tori of the Italians. HARRIS'* Phil. Ing. 108, 110.
 
 300 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 undoubtedly, may often happen in a way which he 
 is unable to explain ; that is, his invention may 
 b& suggested to him by some lucky thought, the 
 origin of which he is unable to trace. But when a 
 man possesses a habitual fertility of invention in 
 any particular art or science, and can rely, with 
 confidence, on his inventive powers, whenever he 
 is called upon to exert them, he must have ac- 
 quired, by previous habits of study, a command 
 over certain classes of his ideas, which enables him, 
 at pleasure, to bring them under his review. The 
 illustration of these subjects .may throw light on 
 some processes of the mind, which are not in gene- 
 ral well understood : and I shall accordingly, in the 
 following Section, offer a few hints with respect to? 
 those habits of association which are the found- 
 ation of wit ; of the power of rhyming ; of poetical 
 fancy j and of invention in matters of science* 
 
 : ;iii; 
 
 
 .
 
 Parti. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. * } d 301 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Illustrations of the Doctrine stated in the preceding Section. 
 
 I. Of Wit. 
 
 ACCORDING to Locke, Wit consists, " in the 
 " assemblage of ideas ; and putting those together 
 " with quickness and variety, wherein can be found 
 " any resemblance or congruity." * I would add 
 to this definition, (rather by way of comment than 
 of amendment,) that wit implies a power of calling 
 up at pleasure the ideas which it combines : and I 
 am inclined to believe, that the entertainment 
 which it gives to the hearer, is founded, in a con- 
 siderable degree, on his surprise, at the command 
 which the man of wit has acquired over a part of the 
 constitution, which is so little subject to the will. 
 
 That the effect of wit depends partly, at least, on 
 the circumstance now mentioned, appears evidently 
 from this, that we are more pleased with a bon mot, 
 which occurs in conversation, than with one in 
 print ; and that we never fail to receive disgust 
 from wit, when we suspect it to be premeditated. 
 The pleasure, too, we receive from wit, is height- 
 ened, when the original idea is started by one per- 
 son, and the related idea by another. Dr. Camp- 
 bell has remarked, that " a witty repartee is in- 
 " finitely more pleasing, than a witty attack ; and 
 *' that an allusion will appear excellent when 
 
 * Essay on Human Understanding, bookii. chap. 11.
 
 302 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " thrown out extempore in conversation, which 
 " would be deemed execrable in print." In all 
 these cases, the wit considered absolutely is the 
 same. The relations which are discovered between 
 the compared ideas are equally new : and yet, as 
 soon as we suspect that the wit was premedi- 
 tated, the pleasure we receive from it is infinitely 
 diminished. Instances indeed may be mentioned, 
 in which we are pleased with contemplating an un- 
 expected relation between ideas, without any re- 
 ference to the habits of association in the mind of 
 the person who discovered it. A bon mot produced 
 at the game of cross-purposes, would not [fail to 
 create amusement ; but in such cases, our pleasure 
 seems chiefly to ^rise from the surprise we feel at 
 so extraordinary a coincidence between a question 
 and an answer coming from persons who had no 
 direct communication with each other. 
 
 Of the effect added to wit by the promptitude 
 with which its combinations are formed, Fuller ap- 
 pears to have had a very just idea, from what he has 
 recorded of the social hours of our two great En- 
 glish Dramatists. " Johnson's parts were not so ready 
 " to run of themselves, as able to answer the spur ; 
 " so that it may be truly said of him, that he had an 
 " elaborate 'wit, wrought out by his own industry. 
 Many were the wit combats between him and 
 w Shakespeare, which two I behold like a Spanish 
 " great galleon, and an English man of war. John- 
 " son (like the former) was built far higher in learn- 
 " ing ; solid, but slow in his performances. Shake- 
 " speare, with the English man of war, lesser in bulk, 
 " but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, 
 
 ii
 
 Part I. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 303 
 
 " tack about and take advantage of all winds, by 
 " the quickness of his wit and invention." * 
 
 I before observed, that the pleasure we receive 
 from wit is increased, when the two ideas between 
 which the relation is discovered, are suggested by 
 different persons. In the case of a bon mot occur- 
 ring in conversation, the reason of this is abun- 
 dantly obvious ; because, when the related ideas are 
 suggested by different persons, we have a proof 
 that the wit was not premeditated. But even in 
 a written composition, we are much more delighted 
 when the subject was furnished to the author by 
 another person, than when he chooses the topic on 
 which he is to display his wit. How much would 
 the pleasure we receive from the Key to the Lock 
 be diminished, if we suspected that the author had 
 the key in view when he wrote that poem ; and 
 that he introduced some expressions, in order to 
 furnish a subject for the wit of the commentator ? 
 How totally would it destroy the pleasure we re- 
 ceive from a parody on a poem, if we suspected 
 that both were productions of the same author? 
 The truth seems to be, that when both the related 
 ideas are suggested by the same person, we have 
 not a very satisfactory proof of any thing uncom- 
 mon in the intellectual habits of the author. We 
 may suspect that both ideas occurred to him at the 
 same time ; and we know that in the dullest and most 
 phlegmatic minds, such extraordinary associations 
 will sometimes take place. But when the subject 
 of the wit is furnished by one person, and the wit 
 suggested by another, we have a proof, not only 
 
 * History of the Worthies of England. London, 1662.
 
 304 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V* 
 
 that the author's mind abounds with such singular 
 associations, but that he has his wit perfectly at 
 command. 
 
 As an additional confirmation of these observ- 
 ations, we may remark, that the more an author is 
 limited by his subject, the more we are pleased 
 with his wit. And, therefore, the effect of wit does 
 not arise solely from the unexpected relations which 
 it presents to the mind, but arises, in part, from the 
 surprise it excites at those intellectual habits which 
 give it birth. It is evident, that the more the 
 author is circumscribed in the choice of his mate- 
 rials, the greater must be the command which he 
 has acquired over those associating principles on 
 which wit depends, and of consequence, accord- 
 ing to the foregoing doctrine, the greater must 
 be the surprise and the pleasure which his wit 
 produces. 
 
 In Addison's celebrated verses to Sir Godfrey 
 Kneller on his picture of George the First, in which 
 he compares the painter to Phidias, and the sub- 
 jects of his pencil to the Grecian .Deities, the range 
 of the Poet's wit was necessarily confined within 
 very narrow bounds ; and what principally delights 
 us in that performance is, the surprising ease and 
 felicity with which he runs the parallel between the 
 English history and the Greek mythology. Of all 
 the allusions which the following passage contains, 
 there is net one, taken singly, of very extraordinary 
 merit ; and yet the effect of the whole is uncom- 
 monly great, from the singular power of combin- 
 ation, which so long and so difficult an exertion 
 discovers.
 
 Part I. 4-. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 305 
 
 " Wise Phidias thus, his skill to prove, 
 " Thro' many a god advanced to Jove, 
 " And taught the polish'd rocks to shine 
 *' With airs and lineaments divine, 
 " Till Greece amaz'd and half afraid, 
 *' Th' assembled Deities survey 'd. 
 
 " Great Pan, who wont to chase the fair, 
 *' And lov'd the spreading oak, was there ; 
 *' Old Saturn, too, with up-cast eyes, 
 *' Beheld his abdicated skies ; 
 " And mighty Mars, for war renown'd, 
 ' In adamantine armour frown'd ; 
 " By him the childless Goddess rose, 
 " Minerva, studious to compose 
 *' Her twisted threads ; the web she strung, 
 " And o'er a loom of marble hung ; 
 *' Thetis, the troubled ocean's queen, 
 *' Match'd with a mortal next was seen, 
 " Reclining on a funeral urn, 
 " Her short-liv'd darling son to mourn ; 
 " The last was he, whose thunder slew 
 " The Titan race, a rebel crew, 
 *' That from a hundred hills ally'd, 
 ' " In impious league their King defy'd." 
 
 According to the view which I have given of the 
 nature of Wit, the pleasure we derive from that as- 
 semblage of ideas which it presents, is greatly 
 heightened and enlivened by our surprise at the 
 command displayed over a part of the constitution, 
 which, in our own case, we find to be so little sub- 
 ject to the will. We consider Wit as a sort of feat 
 or trick of intellectual dexterity, analogous, in 
 some respects, to the extraordinary performances 
 of jugglers and rope-dancers ; and, in both cases, 
 the pleasure \Ve receive from the exhibition, is 
 explicable in part, (I, by no means, say entirely ',) 
 on the same principles. 
 
 x
 
 306 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 If these remarks be just, it seems to follow as a 
 consequence, that those men who are most deficient 
 in the power of prompt combination, will be most 
 poignantly affected by it, when exerted at the will 
 of another : and therefore, the charge of jealousy 
 and envy brought against rival Wits, when dis- 
 posed to look grave at each other's jests, may 
 perhaps be obviated in a way less injurious to their 
 character. 
 
 The same remarks suggest a limitation, or rather 
 an explanation, of an assertion of Lord Chester- 
 field's, that " genuine wit never made any man 
 " laugh since the creation of the world." The 
 observation, I believe, to be just, if by genuine 
 wit, we mean wit wholly divested of every mixture 
 of humour : and if by laughter, we mean that 
 convulsive and noisy agitation which is excited by 
 the ludicrous. But there is unquestionably a smile 
 appropriated to the flashes of wit ; a smile of 
 surprise and wonder ; not altogether unlike the 
 effect produced on the mind and the countenance, 
 by a feat of legerdemain when executed with un- 
 common success. 
 
 II. Of Rhyme. 
 
 THE pleasure we receive from rhyme, seems also 
 to arise, partly, from our surprise at the command 
 which the Poet must have acquired over the train 
 of his ideas, in order to be able to express himself 
 with elegance, and the appearance of ease, under 
 the restraint which rhyme imposes. In witty or in 
 humorous performances, this surprise serves to en-
 
 Part I. 4. F THE HUMAN MIND. 307 
 
 liven that which the wit or the humour produces, 
 and renders its effects more sensible. How flat do 
 the liveliest and most ludicrous thoughts appear in 
 blank verse ? And how wonderfully is the wit of 
 Pope heightened, by the easy and happy rhymes in 
 which it is expressed ? 
 
 It must not, however, be imagined, either in 
 the case of wit or of rhyme, that the pleasure arises 
 solely from our surprise at the uncommon habits 
 of association which the author discovers. In the 
 former case, there must be presented to the mind, 
 an unexpected analogy or relation between different 
 ideas : and perhaps other circumstances must con- 
 cur to render the wit perfect. If the combination 
 has no other merit than that of bringing together 
 two ideas which never met before, we may be 
 surprised at its oddity, but we do not consider it as 
 a proof of wit. On the contrary, the want of any 
 analogy or relation between the combined ideas, 
 leads us to suspect, that the one did not suggest 
 the other, in consequence of any habits of asso- 
 ciation ; but that the two were brought together 
 by study, or by mere accident. All that I affirm 
 is, that when the analogy or relation is pleasing in 
 itself, our pleasure is heightened by our surprise 
 at the author's habits of association when compared 
 with our own. In the case of Rhyme, too, there 
 is undoubtedly a certain degree of pleasure arising 
 from the recurrence of the same sound. We fre- 
 quently observe children amuse themselves with 
 repeating over single words which rhyme together : 
 and the lower people, who derive little pleasure 
 from poetry, excepting in so far as it affects the 
 
 x 2
 
 308 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 ear, are so pleased with the echo of the rhymes, 
 that when they read verses where it is not perfect, 
 they are apt to supply the Poet's defects, by vio- 
 lating the common rules of pronunciation. This 
 pleasure, however, is heightened by our admiration 
 at the miraculous powers which the Poet must have 
 acquired over the train of his ideas, and over all the 
 various modes of expression which the language 
 affords, in order to convey instruction and enter- 
 tainment, without transgressing the established laws 
 of regular versification. In some of the lower kinds 
 of poetry; for example, in acrostics, and in the 
 lines which are adapted to bouts-rimes, the merit lies 
 entirely in this command of thought and expression; 
 or, in other words, in a command of ideas founded 
 on extraordinary habits of association. Even some 
 authors of a superior class, occasionally shew an in- 
 clination to display their knack at rhyming, by in- 
 troducing, at the end of the first line of a couplet, 
 some word to which the language hardly affords a 
 corresponding sound. Swift, in his more trifling 
 pieces, abounds with instances of this ; and in Hu- 
 dibras, when the author uses his double and triple 
 rhymes, many couplets have no merit whatever but 
 what arises from difficulty of execution. 
 
 The pleasure we receive from rhyme in serious 
 compositions, arises from a combination of different 
 circumstances which my present subject does not 
 lead me to investigate particularly. * I am per- 
 
 * In Elegiac poetry, the recurrence of the same sound, and 
 the uniformity in the structure of the versification which this 
 necessarily occasions, are peculiarity suited to the inactivity of the 
 mind, and to the slow and equable succession of its ideas, when
 
 Part I. 4t. -OF THE HUMAN MIND. 309 
 
 suaded, however, that it arises, in part, from our 
 surprise at the Poet's habits of association, which 
 enable him to convey his thoughts with ease and 
 beauty, notwithstanding the narrow limits within 
 which his choice of expression is confined. One 
 proof of this is, that if there appear any mark of 
 constraint, either in the ideas or in the expression, 
 our pleasure is proportionally diminished. The 
 thoughts must seem to suggest each other, and the 
 rhymes to be only an accidental circumstance. 
 The same remark may be made on the measure of 
 the verse. When in its greatest perfection, it does 
 not appear to be the result of labour, but to be 
 dictated by nature, or prompted by inspiration. 
 In Pope's best verses, the idea is expressed with as 
 little inversion of style, and with as much concise- 
 ness,' precision, and propriety, as the author could 
 have attained, had he been writing prose : without 
 any apparent exertion on his part, the words seem 
 spontaneously to arrange themselves in the most 
 musical numbers. 
 
 " While still a child, nor yet a fool to fame, 
 " I lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came." 
 
 under the influence of tender or melancholy passions ; and ac- 
 cordingly, in such cases, even the Latin poets, though the genius 
 of their language be very ill fitted for compositions in rhyme, 
 occasionally indulge themselves in something very nearly ap- 
 proaching to it : 
 
 " Memnona si mater, mater ploravit Achillem, 
 
 " Et tangant magnas tristia fata Deas ; 
 
 " Flebilis indignos Elegeia solve capillos, 
 
 *' Ah nimis ex vero nunc tibi nomen erit." 
 Many other instances of the same kind might be produced from 
 the Elegiac verses of Ovid and Tibullus. 
 
 x 3
 
 310 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 This facility of versification, it is true, may be, and 
 probably is, in most cases, only apparent : and it is 
 reasonable to think, that in the most perfect 
 poetical productions, not only the choice of words, 
 but the choice of ideas, is influenced by the rhymes. 
 In a prose composition, the author holds on in a 
 direct course, according to the plan he has pre- 
 viously formed ; but in a poem, the rhymes which 
 occur to him are perpetually diverting him to the 
 right hand or to the left, by suggesting ideas which 
 do not naturally rise out of his subject. This, I 
 presume, is Butler's meaning in the following 
 couplet : 
 
 " Rhymes the rudder are of verses 
 
 " With which, like ships, they steer their courses.'* 
 
 But although this may be the case in fact, the' Poet 
 must employ all his art to conceal it : insomuch that 
 if he finds himself under a necessity to introduce, 
 on account of the rhymes, a superfluous idea, or an 
 awkward expression, he must place it in the first 
 line of the couplet, and not in the second j for the 
 reader, naturally presuming that the lines were 
 composed in the order in which the author arranges 
 them, is more apt to suspect the second line to be 
 accommodated to the first, than the first to the 
 second. And this slight .artifice is, in general, suf- 
 ficient to impose on that degree of attention with 
 which poetry is read. Who can doubt that, in the 
 following lines, Pope wrote the first for the sake of 
 the second ? 
 
 " A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod ; 
 
 " An honest man's the noblest work of God."
 
 Parti. 4>. O* 1 THE HUMAN MIND. 311 
 
 Were the first of these lines, or a line equally un- 
 meaning, placed last, the couplet would have ap- 
 peared execrable to a person of the most moderate 
 taste. 
 
 It affords a strong confirmation of the foregoing 
 observations, that the Poets of some nations have 
 delighted in the practice of alliteration, as well as 
 of rhyme ; and have even considered it as an es- 
 sential circumstance in versification. Dr. Beattie 
 observes, that " some ancient English poems are 
 " more distinguished by alliteration, than by any 
 " other poetical contrivance. In the works of 
 " Langland, even when no regard is had to rhyme, 
 " and but little to a rude sort of anapestic measure, 
 " it seems to have been a rule, that three words, 
 " at least, of each line should begin with the same 
 " letter." A late author informs us, that, in the 
 Icelandic poetry, alliteration is considered as a cir- 
 cumstance no less essential than rhyme. * He 
 mentions also several other restraints, which must 
 add wonderfully to the difficulty of versification ; 
 and which appear to us to be perfectly arbitrary 
 and capricious. If that really be the case, the 
 whole pleasure of the reader or hearer arises from 
 his surprise at the facility of the Poet's composition 
 under these complicated restraints j that is, from 
 
 * '* The Icelandic poetry requires two things ; viz. words 
 " with the same initial letters, and words of the same sound. It 
 " was divided into stanzas, each of which consisted of four 
 *' couplets ; and each of these couplets was again composed of 
 ' two hemisticks, of which every one contained six syllables ; 
 " and it was not allowed to augment this number, except in 
 cases of the greatest necessity." See VAN TROIL'S Letters 
 on Iceland, p. 208. 
 
 X 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V- 
 
 his surprise at the command which the Poet has 
 acquired over his thoughts and expressions. lit 
 our rhyme, I acknowledge, that the coincidence 
 of sound is agreeable in itself; and only affirm, 
 that the pleasure which the ear receives from it, is 
 heightened by the other consideration. 
 
 III. Of Poetical Fancy. 
 
 THERE is another habit of association, which, in 
 some men, is very remarkable ; that which is 
 the foundation of Poetical Fancy : a talent which 
 agrees with Wit in some circumstances, but which 
 differs from it essentially in others. 
 
 The pleasure we receive from Wit, agrees in one 
 particular with the pleasure which arises from 
 poetical allusions; that in both cases we are 
 pleased with contemplating an analogy between 
 two different subjects. But they differ in this, 
 that the man of Wit has no other aim than to 
 combine analogous ideas * ; whereas no allusion 
 can, with propriety, have a place in serious poetry, 
 unless it either illustrate or adorn the principal 
 subject. If it has both these recommendations, 
 the allusion is perfect. If it has neither, as is often 
 the case with the allusions of Cowley and of Young, 
 the Fancy of the Poet degenerates into Wit. 
 
 If these observations be well-founded, they sug- 
 gest a rule with respect to poetical allusions, which 
 has not always been sufficiently attended to. It 
 frequently happens, that two subjects bear an 
 
 * I speak here of pure and unmixed wit; and not of wit, 
 blended, as it is most commonly, with some degree of humour*
 
 Parti. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 313 
 
 analogy to each other in more respects than one ; 
 and where such can be found, they undoubtedly 
 furnish the most favourable of all occasions for the 
 display of Wit. But, in serious poetry, I am in- 
 clined to think, that however striking these analo- 
 gies may be ; and although each of them might, 
 with propriety, be made the foundation of a sepa- 
 rate allusion ; it is improper, in the course of the 
 same allusion, to include more than one of them ; 
 as, by doing so, an author discovers an affectation 
 of Wit, or a desire of tracing analogies, instead of 
 illustrating or adorning the subject of his com- 
 position. 
 
 I formerly defined Fancy to be a power of asso- 
 ciating ideas according to relations of resemblance 
 and analogy. This definition will probably be 
 thought too general ; and to approach too near to 
 that given of Wit. In order to discover the neces- 
 sary limitations, we shall consider what the circum- 
 stances are, which please us in poetical allusions. 
 As these allusions are suggested by Fancy, and are 
 the most striking instances in which it displays it- 
 self, the received rules of Critics with respect to 
 them, may throw some light on the mental power 
 which gives them birth. 
 
 1. An allusion pleases, by illustrating a subject 
 comparatively obscure. Hence, I apprehend, it 
 will be found, that allusions from the intellectual 
 world .to the material, are more pleasing, than from 
 the material world to the intellectual. Mason, in 
 his Ode to Memory, compares the influence of 
 that faculty over our ideas, to the authority of a 
 general over his troops :
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " thou, whose sway 
 " The throng'd ideal hosts obey ; 
 " Who bidst their ranks now vanish, now appear ; 
 " Flame in the van, or darken in the rear." 
 
 Would the allusion have been equally pleasing, 
 from a general marshalling his soldiers, to Memory 
 and the succession of ideas ? 
 
 The effect of a literal and spiritless translation of 
 a work of genius, has been compared to that of the 
 figures which we see, when we look at the wrong 
 side of a beautiful piece of tapestry. The allusion 
 is ingenious and happy ; but the pleasure which we 
 receive from it arises, not merely from the analogy 
 which it presents to us, but from the illustration 
 which it affords of the author's idea. No one, 
 surely, in speaking of a piece of tapestry, would 
 think of comparing the difference between its sides, 
 to that between an original composition and a literal 
 translation ! 
 
 Cicero, and after him Mr. Locke, in illustrating 
 the difficulty of attending to the subjects of our 
 consciousness, have compared the Mind to the Eye, 
 which sees every object around it, but is invisible 
 to itself. To have compared the Eye, in this re- 
 spect, to the Mind, would have been absurd. 
 
 Mr. Pope's comparison of the progress of youth- 
 ful curiosity, in the pursuits of science, to that of a 
 traveller among the Alps, has been much, and 
 justly, admired. How would the beauty of the 
 allusion have been diminished, if the Alps had fur- 
 nished the original subject, and not the illustration ! 
 
 But although this rule holds, in general, I ac- 
 knowledge, that instances may be produced, from
 
 Parti. $4. ' OF THE HUMAN MIND. 315 
 
 our most celebrated poetical performances, of allu- 
 sions from material objects, both to the intellectual 
 and the moral worlds. These, however, are com- 
 paratively few in number, and are not to be found 
 in descriptive or in didactic works ; but in com- 
 positions written under the influence of some par- 
 ticular passion, or which are meant to express some 
 peculiarity in the mind of the author. Thus, a 
 melancholy man, who has met with many misfor- 
 tunes in life, will be apt to moralize on every phy- 
 sical event, and every appearance of nature ; be- 
 cause his attention dwells more habitually on 
 human life and conduct, than on the material 
 objects around him. This is the case with the 
 banished Duke, in Shakespeare's As you like it ; 
 who, in the language of that Poet, 
 
 " Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 " Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." 
 
 But this is plainly a distempered state of the mind ; 
 and the allusions please, not so much by the analo- 
 gies they present, as by the picture they give of 
 the character of the person to whom they have 
 occurred. 
 
 2. An allusion pleases, by presenting a new and 
 beautiful image to the mind. The analogy or the 
 resemblance between this image and the principal 
 subject, is agreeable of itself, and is indeed neces- 
 sary, to furnish an apology for the transition which 
 the writer makes, but the pleasure is wonderfully 
 heightened, when the new image thus presented is 
 a beautiful one. The following allusion, in one 
 of Mr. Home's tragedies, appears to me to unite 
 almost every excellence :
 
 316 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " Hope and fear, alternate, sway'd his breast ; 
 
 " Like light and shade upon a waving field, 
 " Coursing each other, when the flying clouds 
 " Now hide, and now reveal, the Sun." 
 
 Here the analogy is remarkably perfect ; not only 
 between light and hope, and between darkness and 
 fear ; but between the rapid succession of light and 
 shade, and the momentary influences of these op- 
 posite emotions : while, at the same time, the new 
 image which is presented to us, recals one of the 
 most pleasing and impressive incidents in rural 
 scenery. 
 
 The foregoing observations suggest a reason why 
 the principal stores of Fancy are commonly sup- 
 posed to be borrowed from the material world. 
 Wit has a more extensive province, and delights to 
 display its power of prompt and unexpected com- 
 bination over all the various classes of our ideas : 
 but the favourite excursions of Fancy, are from 
 intellectual and moral subjects to the appearances 
 with which our senses are conversant. The truth 
 is, that such allusions please more than any others 
 in poetry. According to this limited idea of 
 Fancy, it presupposes, where it i possessed in an 
 eminent degree, an extensive observation of natural 
 objects, and a mind susceptible of strong impres- 
 sions from them. It is thus only that a stock of 
 images can be acquired ; and that these images 
 will be ready to present themselves, whenever any 
 analogous subject occurs. And hence probably 
 it is, that poetical genius is almost always united 
 with an exquisite sensibility to the beauties of 
 nature.
 
 Part I. 4>. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 317 
 
 Before leaving the subject of Fancy, it may not 
 be improper to remark, that its two qualities are, 
 liveliness and luxuriancy. The word lively refers 
 to the quickness of the association. The word 
 rich or luxuriant, to the variety of associated ideas. 
 
 IV. Of Invention in the Arts and Sciences. 
 
 To these powers of Wit and Fancy, that of In- 
 vention in the Arts and Sciences has a striking 
 resemblance. Like them it implies a command 
 over certain classes of ideas, which, in ordinary 
 men, are not equally subject to the will : arid like 
 them, too, it is the result of acquired habits ; and 
 not the original gift of nature. 
 
 Of the process of the mind in scientific inven- 
 tion, I propose afterwards to treat fully, under the 
 article of Reasoning ; and I shall therefore confine 
 myself at present to a few detached remarks upon 
 some views of the subject which are suggested by 
 the foregoing inquiries. 
 
 Before we proceed, it may be proper to take 
 notice of the distinction between Invention and 
 Discovery. The object of the former, as has been 
 frequently remarked, is to produce something which 
 had no existence before ; that of the latter, to bring 
 to light something which did exist, but which was 
 concealed from common observation. Thus we say, 
 Otto Guerricke invented the air-pump ; Sanctorius 
 invented the thermometer ; Newton and Gregory 
 invented the reflecting telescope ; Galileo discovered 
 the solar spots; and Harvey discovered the cir- 
 culation of the blood. It appears, therefore, that 
 improvements in the Arts are properly called in- 
 
 7
 
 318 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 ventions ; and that facts brought to light by means 
 of observation, are properly called discoveries. 
 
 Agreeable to this analogy, is the use which we 
 make of these words, when we apply them to 
 subjects purely intellectual. As truth is eternal 
 and immutable, and has no dependence on our be- 
 lief or disbelief of it, a person who brings to light a 
 truth formerly unknown, is said to make a discovery. 
 A person, on the other hand, who contrives a new 
 method of discovering truth, is called an inventor. 
 Pythagoras, we say, discovered the forty-seventh 
 proposition of Euclid's first book ; Newton dis- 
 covered the binomial theorem : but he invented 
 the method of prime and ultimate ratios ; and he 
 invented the method of fluxions. 
 
 In general, every advancement in knowledge is 
 considered as a discovery ; every contrivance by 
 which we produce an effect, or accomplish an end, 
 is considered as an invention. Discoveries in 
 science, therefore, unless they are made by acci- 
 dent, imply the exercise of invention j and ac- 
 cordingly, the word invention is commonly used to 
 express originality of genius in the Sciences, as well 
 as in the Arts. It is in this general sense that I 
 employ it in the following observations. 
 
 It was before remarked, that in every instance 
 of invention, there is some new idea, or some new 
 combination of ideas, which is brought to light by 
 the inventor ; and that, although this may some- 
 times happen, in a way which he is unable to explain, 
 yet when a man possesses an habitual fertility of 
 invention in any particular Art or Science, and can 
 rely with confidence on his inventive powers, when- 
 ii
 
 Parti. $4. OF THE HUMAN MIND, 319 
 
 ever he is called upon to exert them ; he must have 
 acquired, by previous habits of study, a command 
 over those classes of his ideas, which are sub- 
 servient to the particular effort that he wishes to 
 make. In what manner this command is acquired, 
 it is not possible, perhaps, to explain completely ; 
 but it appears to me to be chiefly in the two follow- 
 ing ways. In the first place, by his habits of specu- 
 lation, he may have arranged his knowledge in 
 such a manner as may render it easy for him to 
 combine, at pleasure, all the various ideas in his 
 mind, which have any relation to the subject about 
 which he is occupied : or, secondly, he may have 
 learned by experience, certain general rules, by 
 means of which, he can direct the train of his 
 thoughts into those channels in which the ideas he 
 is in quest of may be most likely to occur to him. 
 
 I. The former of these observations, I shall not 
 stop to illustrate particularly, at present ; as the 
 same subject will occur afterwards, under the article 
 of Memory. It is sufficient for my purpose, in this 
 chapter, to remark, that as habits of speculation 
 have a tendency to classify our ideas, by leading us 
 to refer particular facts and particular truths to 
 general principles ; and as it is from an approxim- 
 ation and comparison of related ideas, that new 
 discoveries in most instances result j the knowledge 
 of the philosopher, even supposing that it is not 
 more extensive, is arranged in a manner much more 
 favourable to invention, than in a mind unaccus- 
 tomed to system. 
 
 How much invention depends on a proper com- 
 bination of the materials of our knowledge, appears
 
 320 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 from the resources which occur to men of the low- 
 est degree of ingenuity, when they are pressed by 
 any alarming difficulty and danger ; and from the 
 unexpected exertions made by very ordinary cha- 
 racters, when called to situations which rouse their 
 latent powers. In such cases, I take for granted, 
 that necessity operates in producing invention, 
 chiefly by concentrating the attention of the mind 
 to one set of ideas j by leading us to view these in 
 every light, and to combine them variously with 
 each other. As the same idea may be connected 
 with an infinite variety of others by different re- 
 lations ; it may, according to circumstances, at one 
 time, suggest one of these ideas, and, at another 
 time, a different one. When we dwell long on the 
 same idea, we obtain all the others to which it is 
 any way related ; and thus are furnished with ma- 
 terials on which our powers of judgment and reason- 
 ing may be employed. The effect of the division 
 of labour, in multiplying mechanical contrivances, 
 is to be explained partly on the same principle. It 
 limits the attention to a particular subject, and 
 familiarises to the mind all the possible combin- 
 ations of ideas which have any relation to it. 
 
 These observations suggest a remarkable differ- 
 ence between Invention and Wit. The former 
 depends, in most instances, on a combination of 
 those ideas, which are connected by the less ob- 
 vious-principles of association ; and it may be called 
 forth in almost any mind by the pressure of external 
 circumstances. The ideas which must be com- 
 bined, in order to produce the latter, are chiefly 
 such as are associated by those slighter connexions
 
 Part I. 4,. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 which take place when the mind is careless and 
 disengaged. " If you have real wit," says Lord 
 Chesterfield, " it will flow spontaneously, and you 
 " need not aim at it ; for in that case, the rule of 
 " the gospel is reversed ; and it will prove, seek 
 " and you shall not find." Agreeably to this ob- 
 servation, wit is promoted by a certain degree of 
 intoxication, which prevents the exercise of that 
 attention, which is necessary for invention in mat- 
 ters of Science. Hence too it is, that those who 
 have the reputation of Wits, are commonly men 
 confident in their own powers, who allow the train 
 of their ideas to follow, in a great measure, its 
 natural course ; and hazard, in company, every 
 thing, good or bad, that occurs to them. Men of 
 modesty and taste seldom attempt wit in a promis- 
 cuous society ; or if they are forced to make such 
 an exertion, they are seldom successful. Such men, 
 however, in the circle of their friends, to whom 
 they can unbosom themselves without reserve, are 
 frequently the most amusing and the most interest- 
 ing of companions j as the vivacity of their wit is 
 tempered by a correct judgment, and refined man- 
 ners ; and as its effect is heightened by that sensi- 
 bility and delicacy, with which we so rarely find it 
 accompanied in the common intercourse of life. 
 
 When a man of wit makes an exertion to distin- 
 guish himself, his sallies are commonly too far fetched 
 to please. He brings his mind into a state approach- 
 ing to that of the inventor, and becomes rather in- 
 genious than witty. This is often the case with the 
 writers whom Johnson distinguishes by the name 
 of the Metaphysical Poets.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 Those powers of invention, which necessity oc- 
 casionally calls forth in uncultivated minds, some 
 individuals possess habitually. The related ideas 
 which, in the case of the former, are brought to- 
 gether by the slow efforts of attention and recollec- 
 tion, present themselves to the latter, in conse- 
 quence of a more systematical arrangement of their 
 knowledge. The instantaneousness with which 
 such remote combinations are effected, sometimes 
 appear so wonderful, that we are apt to ascribe it 
 to something like inspiration ; but it must be re- 
 membered, that when any subject strongly and 
 habitually occupies the thoughts, it gives us an in- 
 terest in the observation of the most trivial circum- 
 stance which we suspect to have any relation to it, 
 however distant ; and by thus rendering the com- 
 mon objects and occurrences which the accidents 
 of life present to us, subservient to one particular 
 employment of the intellectual powers, establishes 
 in the memory a connexion between our favourite 
 pursuit, and all the materials with which expe- 
 rience and reflection have supplied us for the farther 
 prosecution of it. 
 
 II. I observed, in the second place, that inven- 
 tion may be facilitated by general rules, which en- 
 able the inventor to direct the train of his thoughts 
 into particular channels. These rules (to ascertain 
 which, ouglvt to be one principal object of the 
 logician) will afterwards fall under my consider- 
 ation, when I come to examine those intellectual 
 processes which are subservient to the discovery of 
 truth. At present, I shall confine myself to a few 
 general remarks j in stating which I have no other
 
 Part I. . 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 323 
 
 aim than to shew, to how great a degree invention 
 depends on cultivation and habit, even in those 
 sciences in which it is generally supposed that 
 every thing depends on natural genius. 
 
 When we consider the geometrical discoveries of 
 the ancients, in the form in which they are exhi- 
 bited in the greater part of the works which have 
 survived to our times, it is seldom possible for us 
 to trace the steps by which they were led to their 
 conclusions : and, indeed, the objects of this science 
 are so unlike those of all others, that it is not un- 
 natural for a person when he enters on the study, 
 to be dazzled by its novelty^, and to form an exag- 
 gerated conception of the genius of those men who 
 first brought to light such a variety of truths, so 
 profound and so remote from the ordinary course 
 of our speculations. We find, however, that even 
 at the time when the ancient analysis was unknown 
 to the moderns ; such mathematicians as had at- 
 tended to the progress of the mind in the discovery 
 of truth, concluded a priori, that the discoveries of 
 the Greek geometers did not, at first, occur to 
 them in the order in which they are stated in their 
 writings. The prevailing opinion was, that they 
 had possessed some secret method of investigation, 
 which they carefully concealed from the world ; 
 and that they published the result of their labours 
 in such a form, as they thought would be most 
 likely to excite the admiration of their readers. 
 " O quam bene foret," says Petrus Nonius, " si qui 
 " in scientiis mathematicis scripserint authores, 
 " scripta reliquissent inventa sua eadem methodo, 
 " et per eosdem discursus, quibus ipsi in ea pri- 
 
 y <2
 
 324 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 " mum inciderunt ; et non, lit in mechanica lo- 
 " quitur Aristoteles de artificibus, qui nobis foris 
 " ostendunt suas quas fecerint machinas, sed arti- 
 " ficium abscondunt, ut magis appareant admira- 
 " biles. Est utique inventio in arte qualibet diversa 
 " multum a traditione : neque putandum est plu- 
 " rimas Euclidis et Archimedis propositiones fuisse 
 " ab illis ea via inventas qua nobis illi ipsas tradi- 
 " derunt."* The revival of the ancient analysis, 
 by some late mathematicians in this country, has, 
 in part, justified these remarks, by shewing to how 
 great a degree the inventive powers of the Greek 
 geometers were aided by that method of investiga- 
 tion ; and by exhibiting some striking specimens of 
 address in the practical application of it. 
 
 The solution of problems, indeed, it maybe said, 
 is but one mode in which mathematical invention 
 may be displayed. The discovery of new truths is 
 what we chiefly admire in an original genius ; and 
 the method of analysis gives us no satisfaction with 
 respect to the process by which they are obtained. 
 
 To remove this difficulty completely, by explain- 
 ing all the various ways in which new theorems may 
 be brought to light, would lead to inquiries foreign 
 to this work. In order, however, to render the pro- 
 cess of the mind, on such occasions, a little less 
 mysterious than it is commonly supposed to be ; it 
 may be proper to remark, that the most copious 
 source of discoveries is the investigation of pro- 
 blems ; which seldom fails (even although we should 
 
 * See some other passages to the same purpose, quoted from 
 different writers, by Dr. Simson, in the preface to his Restora- 
 tion of the Loci Plani of Appollonius Pergaeus. Glasg. 1749. 
 
 I
 
 Part I. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 not succeed in the attainment of the object which 
 we have in view) to exhibit to us some relations 
 formerly unobserved among the quantities which 
 are under consideration. Of so great importance is 
 it to concentrate the attention to a particular sub- 
 ject, and to check that wandering and dissipated 
 habit of thought, which, in the case of most persons, 
 renders their speculations barren of any profit either 
 to themselves or to others. Many theorems, too, 
 have been suggested by analogy ; many have been 
 investigated from truths formerly known by altering 
 or by generalising' the hypothesis ; and many have 
 been obtained by a species of induction. An illus- 
 tration of these various processes of the mind would 
 not only lead to new and curious remarks, but 
 would contribute to diminish that blind admiration 
 of original genius, which is one of the chief ob- 
 stacles to the improvement of science. 
 
 The history of natural philosophy, before and 
 after the time of Lord Bacon, affords another proofi 
 how much the powers of invention and discovery 
 may be assisted by the study of method : and in all 
 the sciences, without exception, whoever employs 
 his genius with a regular and habitual success, 
 plainly shews, that it is by means of general rales 
 that his inquiries are conducted. Of these rules, 
 there may be many which the inventor never stated 
 to himself in words ; and, perhaps, he may even be 
 unconscious of the assistance which he derives from 
 them j but their influence on his genius appears 
 unquestionably from the uniformity with which it 
 proceeds ; and in proportion as they can Be ascer- 
 tained by his own speculations, or collected by the 
 
 y 3
 
 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 logician from an examination of his researches, 
 similar powers of invention will be placed within 
 the reach of other men, who apply themselves to 
 the same study. 
 
 The following remarks, which a truly philoso- 
 phical artist has applied to painting, may be ex- 
 tended, with some trifling alterations, to all the 
 different employments of our intellectual powers. 
 
 " What we now call geniits, begins, not where 
 " rules, abstractedly taken, end ; but where known, 
 " vulgar, and trite rules have no longer any place. 
 " It must of necessity be, that works of genius, as 
 " well as every other effect, as it must have its 
 " cause, must likewise have its rules ; it cannot be 
 " by chance, that excellencies are produced with 
 " any constancy, or any certainty, for this is not 
 " the nature of chance ; but the rules by which 
 " men of extraordinary parts, and such as are 
 " called men of genius, work, are either such as 
 " they discover by their own peculiar observation, 
 " or of such a nice texture as not easily to admit 
 " handling or expressing in words. 
 
 " Unsubstantial, however, as these rules may 
 " seem, and difficult as it may be to convey them 
 " in writing, they are still seen and felt in the 
 " mind of the artist ; and he works from them with 
 " as much certainty, as if they were embodied, as 
 " I may say, upon paper. It is true, these refined 
 " principles cannot be always made palpable, like 
 " the more gross rules of art ; yet it does not follow, 
 " but that the mind may be put in such a train, 
 " that it shall perceive, by a kind of scientific
 
 Part I. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 " sense, that propriety, which words can but very 
 " feebly suggest." * 
 
 "'"* SECTION V. 
 
 Application of the Principles stated in the foregoing Sections of 
 this Chapter^ to explain the Phenomena of Dreaming. 
 
 WITH respect to the Phenomena of Dreaming, 
 three different questions may be proposed. First ; 
 What is the state of the mind in sleep ? or, in other 
 words, what faculties then continue to operate, 
 and what faculties are then suspended ? Secondly ; 
 how far do our dreams appear to be influenced by 
 our bodily sensations ; and in what respects do they 
 vary, according to the different conditions of the 
 body in health, and in sickness ? Thirdly ; what is 
 the change which sleep produces on those parts of 
 the body, with which our mental operations are more 
 immediately connected ; and how does this change 
 operate, in diversifying, so remarkably, the pheno- 
 mena which our minds then exhibit, from those of 
 which we are conscious in our waking hours ? Of 
 these three questions, the first belongs to the Philo- 
 sophy of the Human Mind j and it is to this ques- 
 tion that the following inquiry is almost entirely 
 confined. The second is more particularly inte- 
 resting to the medical inquirer, and does not pro- 
 perly fall under the plan of this work. The third 
 seems to me 'to relate to a subject, which is placed 
 beyond the reach of the human faculties. 
 
 * Discourses by Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 v 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 It will be granted, that, if we could ascertain the 
 state of the mind in sleep, so as to be able to re- 
 solve the various phenomena of dreaming into a 
 smaller number of general principles; and still 
 more, if we could resolve them into one general 
 fact; we should be advanced a very important 
 step in our inquiries upon this subject ; even al- 
 though we should find it impossible to shew, in 
 what manner this change in the state of the mind 
 results from the change which sleep produces in 
 the state of the body. Such a step would at least 
 gratify, to a certain extent, that disposition of our 
 nature which prompts us to ascend from particular 
 facts .to general laws ; and which is the foun- 
 dation of all our philosophical researches ; and, in 
 the present instance, I am inclined to think, that 
 it carries us as far as our imperfect faculties enable 
 us to proceed. 
 
 In conducting this inquiry with respect to the 
 state of the mind in sleep, it seems reasonable to 
 expect, that some light may be obtained from an 
 examination of the circumstances which accelerate 
 or retard its approach ; for when we are disposed 
 to rest, it is natural to imagine, that the state of 
 the mind approaches to its state in sleep, more 
 nearly, than when we feel burselves alive and ac- 
 tive, and capable of applying all our various facul- 
 ties to their proper purposes. 
 
 In general, it maybe remarked, that the approach 
 of sleep is accelerated by every circumstance which 
 diminishes or suspends the exercise of the mental 
 powers ; and is retarded by every thing which has 
 a contrary tendency. When we wish for sleep, we
 
 Part I. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 329 
 
 naturally endeavour to withhold, as much as pos- 
 sible, all the active exertions of the mind, by dis- 
 engaging our attention from every interesting sub- 
 ject of thought. When we are disposed to keep 
 awake, we naturally fix our attention on some sub- 
 ject which is calculated to afford employment to 
 our intellectual powers, or to rouse and exercise the 
 active principles of our nature. 
 
 It is well known, that there is a particular class 
 of sounds which compose us to sleep. The hum of 
 bees ; the murmur of a fountain ; the reading of an 
 uninteresting discourse ; have this tendency in a 
 remarkable degree. If we examine this class of 
 sounds, we shall find that it consists wholly of such 
 as are fitted to withdraw the attention of the mind 
 from its own thoughts ; and are, at the same time, 
 not sufficiently interesting to engage its attention 
 to themselves. 
 
 It is also matter of common observation, that 
 children and persons of little reflexion, who are 
 chiefly occupied about sensible objects, and whose 
 mental activity is, in a great measure, suspended, 
 as soon as their perceptive powers are unemployed j 
 find it extremely difficult to continue awake, when 
 they are deprived of their usual engagements. 
 The same thing has been remarked of savages, 
 whose time, like that of the lower animals, is almost 
 completely divided between sleep and their bodily 
 exertions. * 
 
 * " The existence of the Negro slaves in America, appears to 
 " participate more of sensation than reflection. To this must be 
 *' ascribed, their disposition to sleep when abstracted from their 
 " diversions, and unemployed in their labour. An animal whose
 
 330 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 From a consideration of these facts, it seems rea- 
 sonable to conclude, that in sleep those operations 
 of the mind are suspended, which depend on our 
 volition ; for if it be certain, that before we fall 
 asleep, we must withhold, as much as we are able, 
 the exercise of all our different powers; it is 
 scarcely to be imagined, that, as soon as sleep com- 
 mences, these powers should again begin to be 
 exerted. The more probable conclusion is, that 
 when we are desirous to procure sleep, we bring 
 both mind and body, as nearly as we can, into that 
 state in which they are to continue after sleep com- 
 mences. The difference, therefore, between the 
 state of the mind when we are inviting sleep, and 
 when we are actually asleep, is this ; that in the 
 former case, although its active exertions be sus- 
 pended, we can renew them, if we please. In the 
 other case, the will loses its influence over all our 
 powers both of mind and body j in consequence of 
 some physical alteration in the system, which we 
 shall never, probably, be able to explain. 
 
 In order to illustrate this conclusion a little far- 
 ther, it may be proper to remark, that if the sus- 
 pension of our voluntary operations in sleep be 
 admitted as a fact, there are only two suppositions 
 which can be formed concerning its cause. The 
 one is, that the power of volition is suspended ; 
 the other, that the will loses its influence over those 
 faculties of the mind, and those members of the 
 body, which, during our waking hours, are sub- 
 
 " body is at rest, and who does not reflect, must be disposed to 
 " sleep of course." Notes , on Virginia, by Mr. JEFFBKSON, 
 p. 225.
 
 Part I. 5. F THE HUMAN MIND. 331 
 
 jected to its authority. If it can be shewn, then, 
 that the former supposition is not agreeable to fact, 
 the truth of the latter seems to follow as a neces- 
 sary consequence. 
 
 1. That the power of volition is not suspended 
 during sleep, appears from the efforts which we are 
 conscious of making while in that situation. We 
 dream, for example, that we are in danger ; and we 
 attempt to call out for assistance. The attempt, 
 indeed, is, in general, unsuccessful ; and the sounds 
 which we emit, are feeble and indistinct ; but this 
 only confirms, or, rather, is a necessary consequence 
 of the supposition, that, in sleep, the connexion 
 between the will and our voluntary operations, is 
 disturbed, or interrupted. The continuance of the 
 power of volition is demonstrated by the effort, 
 however ineffectual.. 
 
 In like manner, in the course of an alarming 
 dream, we are sometimes conscious of making an 
 exertion to save ourselves, by flight, from an appre- 
 hended danger ; but in spite of all our efforts we 
 continue in bed. In such cases, we commonly 
 dream, that we are attempting to escape, and are 
 prevented by some external obstacle ; but the fact 
 seems to be, that the body is, at that time, not 
 subject to the will. During the disturbed rest 
 which we sometimes have when the body is indis- 
 posed, the mind appears to retain some power over 
 it ; but as, even in these cases, the motions which 
 are made, consist rather of a general agitation of the 
 whole system, than of the regular exertion of a par- 
 ticular member of it, with a view to produce a cer- 
 tain effect ; it is reasonable to conclude, that, in
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 perfectly sound sleep, the mind, although it retains 
 the power of volition, retains no influence what- 
 ever over the bodily organs. 
 
 In that particular condition of the system, which 
 is known by the name of incubus, we are conscious 
 of a total want of power over the body : and, I be- 
 lieve, the common opinion is, that it is this want of 
 power which distinguishes the incubus from all the 
 other modifications of sleep. But the more probable 
 supposition seems to be, that every species of sleep 
 is accompanied with a suspension of the faculty of 
 voluntary motion ; and that the incubus has nothing 
 peculiar in it but this, that the uneasy sensations 
 which are produced by the accidental posture of the 
 body, and which we find it impossible to remove by 
 our own efforts, render us distinctly conscious of 
 our incapacity to move. One thing is certain, that 
 the instant of our awaking, and of our recovering 
 the command of our bodily organs, is one and the 
 same. 
 
 2. The same conclusion is confirmed by a dif- 
 ferent view of the subject. It is probable, as was 
 already observed, that when we are anxious to 
 procure sleep, the state into which we naturally 
 bring the mind, approaches to its state after sleep 
 commences. Now it is manifest, that the means 
 which nature directs us to employ on such occa- 
 sions, is not to suspend the power of volition, but 
 to suspend the exertion of those powers whose ex- 
 ercise depends on volition. If it were necessary 
 that volition should be suspended before we fall 
 asleep, it would be impossible for us, by our own 
 efforts, to hasten the moment of rest. The very
 
 Part I. 5. - OF THE HUMAN MIND. 333 
 
 supposition of such efforts is absurd ; for it implies 
 a continued will to suspend the acts of the will. 
 
 According to the foregoing doctrine with respect 
 to the state of the mind in sleep, the effect which 
 is produced on our mental operations, is strikingly 
 analogous to that which is produced on our bodily 
 powers. From the observations which have been 
 already made, it is manifest that in sleep, the body 
 is, in a very inconsiderable degree, if at all, subject 
 to our command. The vital and involuntary 
 motions, however, suffer no interruption, but go 
 on as when we are awake, in consequence of the 
 operation of some cause unknown to us. In like 
 manner, it would appear, that those operations of 
 the mind which depend on our volition are sus- 
 pended ; while certain other operations are, at 
 least, occasionally, carried on. This analogy na- 
 turally suggests the idea, that all our mental ope- 
 rations, which are independent of our will, may 
 continue during slqep ; and that the phenomena of 
 dreaming may, perhaps, be produced by these, di- 
 versified in their apparent effects, in consequence 
 of the suspension of our voluntary powers. 
 
 If the appearances which the mind exhibits during 
 sleep, are found to be explicable on this general 
 principle, it will possess all the evidence which the 
 nature of the subject admits of. 
 
 It was formerly shewn, that the train of thought 
 in the mind does not depend immediately on our 
 will, but is regulated by certain general laws of 
 association. At the same time, it appeared, that 
 among the various subjects which thus spontane- 
 ously present themselves to our notice, we have
 
 334< ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Cliap. V. 
 
 the power of singling out any one that we chuse 
 to consider, and of making it a particular object 
 of attention ; and that by doing so, we not only 
 can stop the train that would otherwise have suc- 
 ceeded, but frequently can divert the current of 
 our thoughts into a new channel. It also appeared, 
 that we have a power (which .may be much im- 
 proved by exercise) of recalling past occurrences 
 to the memory, by a voluntary effort of recol- 
 lection. 
 
 The indirect influence which the mind thus pos- 
 sesses over the train of its thoughts is so great, that 
 during the whole time we are awake, excepting in 
 those cases in which we fall into what is called a 
 reverie, and suffer our thoughts to follow their na- 
 tural course, the order of their succession is always 
 regulated more or less by the will. The will, in- 
 deed, in regulating the train of thought, can 
 operate only (as I already shewed) by availing it- 
 self of the established laws of association ; but still 
 it has the power of rendering this train very differ- 
 ent from what it would have been, if these laws had 
 taken place without its interference. 
 
 From these principles, combined with the general 
 fact which I have endeavoured to establish, with re- 
 spect to the state of the mind in sleep, two obvious 
 consequences follow : First, That when we are in 
 this situation, the succession of our thoughts, in so 
 far as it depends on the laws of association, may be 
 carried on by the operation of the same unknown 
 causes by which it is produced while we are awake ; 
 and, Secondly, that the order of our thoughts, in 
 these two states of the mind, must be very different j
 
 Parti. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. >lt 335 
 
 inasmuch as, in the one, it depends solely on the 
 laws of association ; and in the other, on these laws 
 combined with our own voluntary exertions. 
 
 In order to ascertain how far these conclusions 
 are agreeable to truth, it is necessary to compare 
 them with the known phenomena of dreaming. 
 For which purpose, I shall endeavour to shew, First, 
 That the succession of our thoughts in sleep, is re- 
 gulated by the same general laws of association, to 
 which it is subjected while we are awake ; and, 
 Secondly, That the circumstances which discrimi- 
 nate dreaming from our waking thoughts, are such 
 as must necessarily arise from the suspension of the 
 influence of the will. 
 
 I. That the succession of our thoughts in sleep, 
 is regulated by the same general laws of association, 
 which influence the mind while we are awake, ap- 
 pears from the following considerations. 
 
 1. Our dreams are frequently suggested to us by 
 bodily sensations ; and with these it is well known, 
 from what we experience while awake, that parti- 
 cular ideas are frequently very strongly associated. 
 I have been told by a friend, that having occasion, 
 in consequence of an indisposition, to apply a bottle 
 of hot water to his feet when he went to bed, he 
 dreamed that he was making a journey to the top of 
 Mount ^Etna, and that he found the heat of the 
 ground almost insupportable. Another person, 
 having a blister applied to his head, dreamed that 
 be was scalped by a party of Indians. I believe every 
 one who is in the habit of dreaming, will recollect 
 instances, in his own case, of a similar nature. 
 
 2. Our dreams are influenced by the prevailing 
 
 1
 
 336 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 temper of the mind ; and vary, in their complexion, 
 according as our habitual disposition, at the time, in- 
 clines us to cheerfulness or to melancholy. Not 
 that this observation holds without exception ; but 
 it holds so generally, as must convince us, that the 
 state of our spirits has some effect on our dreams, as 
 well as on our waking thoughts. Indeed, in the 
 latter case, no less than in the former, this effect 
 maybe counteracted, or modified by various other 
 circumstances. 
 
 After having made a narrow escape from any 
 alarming danger, we are apt to awake, in the course 
 of our sleep, with sudden startings ; imagining 
 that we are drowning, or on the brink of a preci- 
 pice. A severe misfortune, which has affected the 
 mind deeply, influences our dreams in a similar 
 way ; and suggests to us a variety of adventures, 
 analogous, in some measure, to that event from 
 which our distress arises. Such, according to 
 Virgil, were the dreams of the forsaken Dido. 
 
 " Agit ipse furentem, 
 
 *' In somnis ferus ^Eneas ; semperque relinqui, 
 " Sola sibi ; semper longam incomitata videtur, 
 " Ire viam, et Tyrios deserta quaerere terra." 
 
 .3. Our dreams are influenced by our prevailing 
 habits of association while awake. 
 
 In a former part of this work, I considered the 
 extent of that power which the mind may acquire 
 over the train of its thoughts ; and I observed, that 
 those intellectual diversities among men, which we 
 commonly refer to peculiarities of genius, are, at 
 least in a great measure, resolvable into differences in 
 their habits of association. One man possesses a rich
 
 Part. I. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 and beautiful fancy, which is at all times obedient 
 to his will. Another possesses a quickness of re- 
 collection, which enables him, at a moment's warn- 
 ing, to bring together all the results of his past- 
 experience, and of his past reflections, which can be 
 of use for illustrating any proposed subject. A third 
 can, without effort, collect his attention to the most 
 abstract questions in philosophy ; can perceive, at a 
 glance, the shortest and the most effectual process 
 for arriving at the truth ; and can banish from his 
 mind every extraneous idea, which fancy or casual 
 association may suggest, to distract his thoughts, or 
 to mislead his judgment. A fourth unites all these 
 powers in a capacity of perceiving truth with an 
 almost intuitive. rapidity ; and in an eloquence which 
 enables him to command, at pleasure, whatever his 
 memory and his fancy can supply, to illustrate and 
 to adorn it. The occasional exercise which such 
 men. make of their powers, may undoubtedly be said, 
 in one sense, to be unpremeditated or unstudied; 
 but they all indicate previous habits of meditation 
 or study, as unquestionably, as the dexterity of the 
 expert accountant, or the rapid execution of the 
 professional musician. 
 
 From what has been said, it is evident, that a 
 train of thought which, in one man, would require 
 a painful effort of study, may, in another, be almost 
 spontaneous : nor is it to be doubted, that the reve- 
 ries of studious men, even when they allow, as much 
 as they can, their thoughts to follow their own 
 course, are more or less connected together by 
 those principles of association, which their favourite v 
 pursuits tend more particularly to strengthen.
 
 338 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V, 
 
 The influence of the same habits may be traced 
 distinctly in sleep. There are probably few mathe- 
 maticians, who have not dreamed of an interesting 
 problem, and who have not even fancied that they 
 were prosecuting the investigation of it with much 
 success. They whose ambition leads them to the 
 study of eloquence, are frequently conscious, during 
 sleep, of a renewal of their daily occupations ; and 
 sometimes feel themselves possessed of a fluency of 
 speech, which they never experienced before. The 
 Poet, in his dreams, is transported into Elysium, 
 and leaves the vulgar and unsatisfactory enjoyments 
 of humanity, to dwell in those regions of enchant- 
 ment and rapture, which have been created by the 
 divine imaginations of Virgil and of Tasso. 
 
 " And hither Morpheus sent his kindest dreams, 
 " Raising a world of gayer tinct and grace ; 
 " O'er which were shadowy cast Elysian gleams, 
 That play'd, in waving lights, from place to place, 
 ' And shed a roseate smile on Nature's face. 
 " Not Titian's pencil e'er could so array, 
 " So fleece with clouds the pure etherial space ; 
 *' Ne could it e'er such melting forms display, 
 " As loose on flowery beds all languishingly lay. 
 
 " No, fair illusions ! artful phantoms, no ! 
 " My muse will not attempt your fairy land :. 
 " She has no colours, that like your's can glow ; 
 " To catch your vivid scenes, too gross her hand." * 
 
 As a farther proof that the succession of our 
 thoughts in dreaming, is influenced by our pre- 
 vailing habits of association ; it may be remarked, 
 that the scenes and occurrences which most fre- 
 
 * Castle of Indolence.
 
 Part I. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 339 
 
 quently present themselves to the mind while we are 
 asleep, are the scenes and occurrences of childhood 
 and early youth. The facility of association is then 
 much greater than in more advanced years ; and 
 although, during the day, the memory of the events 
 thus associated, may be banished by the objects and 
 pursuits which press upon our senses, it retains a 
 more permanent hold of the mind than any of our 
 subsequent acquisitions : and, like the knowledge 
 which we possess of our mother tongue, is, as it 
 were, interwoven and incorporated with all its most 
 essential habits. Accordingly, in old men, whose 
 thoughts are, in a great measure, disengaged from 
 the world, the transactions of their middle age, 
 which once seemed so important, are often obli- 
 terated ; while the mind dwells, as in a dream, on 
 the sports and the companions of their infancy. 
 
 I shall only observe farther, on this head, that in 
 our dreams, as well as when awake, we occasionally 
 make use of words as an instrument of thought. 
 Such dreams, however, do not affect the mind with 
 such emotions of pleasure and of pain, as those in 
 which the imagination is occupied with particular 
 objects of sense. The effect of philosophical stu- 
 dies, in habituating the mind to the almost constant 
 employment of this instrument, and, of consequence, 
 its effect in weakening the imagination, was for- 
 merly remarked. If I am not mistaken, the in. 
 fluence of these circumstances may also be traced 
 in the history of our dreams j which, in youth com- 
 monly involve, in a much greater degree, the ex- 
 ercise of imagination ; and affect the mind with 
 much more powerful emotions, than when we begin
 
 34-0 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 to employ our maturer faculties in more general 
 and abstract speculations. 
 
 II. From these different observations, we are 
 authorised to conclude, that the same laws of asso- 
 ciation which regulate the train of our thoughts 
 while we are awake, continue to operate during 
 sleep. 1 now proceed to consider, how far the cir- 
 cumstances which discriminate dreaming from our 
 waking thoughts, correspond with those which might 
 be expected to result from the suspension of the 
 influence of the will. 
 
 1. If the influence of the will be suspended during 
 sleep, all our voluntary operations, such as recol- 
 lection, reasoning, &c. must also be suspended. 
 
 That this really is the case, the extravagance and 
 inconsistency of our dreams are sufficient proofs. 
 We frequently confound together times and places 
 the most remote from each other ; and, in the course 
 of the same dream, conceive the same person as 
 existing in different parts of the world. Sometimes 
 we imagine ourselves conversing with a dead friend, 
 without remembering the circumstance of his death, 
 although, perhaps, it happened but a few days be- 
 fore, and affected us deeply. All this proves clearly, 
 tjiat the subjects which then occupy our thoughts, 
 are such as present themselves to the mind spon- 
 taneously ; and that we have no power of employing 
 our reason in comparing together the different parts 
 of our dreams ; or even of exerting an act of recol- 
 lection, in order to ascertain how far they are con- 
 sistent and possible. 
 
 The processes of reasoning inwhich we sometimes 
 fancy ourselves to be engaged during sleep, furnish no
 
 Part I. 5. F THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 exception to the foregoing observation ; for although 
 every such process, the first time we form it, implies 
 volition ; and, in particular, implies a recollection 
 of the premises, till we arrive at the conclusion ; 
 yet when a number of truths have been often pre- 
 sented to us as necessarily connected with each other, 
 this series may afterwards pass through the mind, 
 according to the laws of association, without any 
 more activity on our part, than in those trains of 
 thought which are the most loose and incoherent. 
 Nor is this mere theory. I may venture to appeal 
 to the consciousness of every man accustomed to 
 dream, whether his reasonings during sleep do not 
 seem to be carried on without any exertion of his 
 will ; and with a degree of facility, of which he was 
 never conscious while awake. Mr. Addison, in one 
 of his Spectators, has made this observation ; smd 
 his testimony, in the present instance, is of the 
 greater weight, that he had no particular theory on 
 the subject to support. " There is not," (says he,) 
 " a more painful action of the mind than invention, 
 " yet in dreams it works with that ease and activity, 
 " that we are not sensible when the faculty is em- 
 " ployed. For instance, I believe every one, some 
 " time or other, dreams that he is reading papers, 
 " books, or letters ; in which case the invention 
 " prompts so readily, that the mind is imposed on, 
 " and mistakes its own suggestions ^fbr the com- 
 " position of another." * 
 
 2. If the influence of the will during sleep be 
 suspended, the mind will remain as passive, while 
 its thoughts change from one subject to another, as 
 * No. 487.
 
 342 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 it does during our waking hours, while different 
 perceptible objects are presented to our senses. 
 
 Of this passive state of the mind in our dreams, 
 it is unnecessary to multiply proofs ; as it has always 
 been considered as one of the most extraordinary 
 circumstances with which they are accompanied. If 
 our dreams, as well as our waking thoughts, were 
 subject to the will, is it not natural to conclude, that 
 in the one case, as well as in the other, we would 
 endeavour to banish, as much as we could, every 
 idea which had a tendency to disturb us ; and de- 
 tain those only which we found to be agreeable ? 
 So far, however, is this power over our thoughts 
 from being exercised, that we are frequently op- 
 pressed, in spite of all our efforts to the contrary, 
 with dreams which affect us with the most painful 
 emotions. And, indeed, it is matter of vulgar 
 remark, that our dreams are, in every case, in- 
 voluntary on our part j and that they appear to be 
 obtruded on us by some external cause. This fact 
 appeared so unaccountable to the late Mr. Baxter, 
 that it gave rise to his very whimsical theory, in 
 which he ascribes dreams to the immediate influ- 
 ence of separate spirits on the mind. 
 
 3. If the influence of the will be suspended during 
 sleep, the conceptions which we then form of sen- 
 sible objects, will be attended with a belief of their 
 real existence, as much as the perception of the same 
 objects is while we are awake. 
 
 In treating of the power of Conception, I for- 
 merly observed, that our belief of the separate and 
 independent existence of the objects of our per- 
 ceptions, is the result of experience j which teaches 
 us, that these perceptions do not depend on our
 
 Part I. 5. <> F THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 will. If I open my eyes, I cannot prevent myself 
 from seeing the prospect before me. The case is 
 different with respect to our conceptions. While 
 they occupy the mind, to the exclusion of every 
 t}iing else, I endeavoured to shew, that they are 
 always accompanied with belief; but as we can 
 banish them from the mind, during our waking 
 hours, at pleasure ; and as the momentary belief 
 which they produce, is continually checked by the 
 surrounding objects of our perceptions, we learn to 
 consider them as fictions of our own creation ; 
 and, excepting in some accidental cases, pay no 
 regard to them in the conduct of life. If the doc- 
 trine, however, formerly stated with respect to con- 
 ception be just, and if, at the same time it be 
 allowed, that sleep suspends the influence of the 
 will over the train of our thoughts, we should 
 naturally be led to expect, that the same belief 
 which accompanies perception while we are awake, 
 should accompany the conceptions which occur to 
 us in our dreams. It is scarcely necessary for me 
 to remark, how strikingly this conclusion coincides 
 with acknowledged facts. 
 
 May it not be considered as some confirmation of 
 the foregoing doctrine, that when opium fails in 
 producing complete sleep, it commonly produces 
 one of the effects of sleep, by suspending the ac- 
 tivity of the mind, and throwing it into a reverie j 
 and that while we are in this state, our conceptions 
 frequently affect us nearly in the same manner, as if 
 the objects conceived were present to our senses?*? 
 
 * See the Baron de Toxx's Account of the Opium-takers at 
 Constantinople. , 
 
 z 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 Another circumstance with respect to our con- 
 ceptions during sleep, deserves our notice. As the 
 subjects which we then think upon, occupy the 
 mind exclusively ; and as the attention is not di- 
 verted by the objects of our external senses, our 
 conceptions must be proportionably lively and 
 steady. Every person knows how faint the con- 
 ception is which we form of any thing with our 
 eyes open, in comparison of what we can form 
 with our eyes shut : and that in proportion as we 
 can suspend the exercise of all our other senses, the 
 liveliness of our conception increases. To this 
 cause is to be ascribed, in part, the effect which the 
 dread of spirits in the dark, has on some persons, 
 who are fully convinced in speculation, that their 
 apprehensions are groundless ; and to this also is 
 owing, the effect of any accidental perception in 
 giving them a momentary relief from their terrors. 
 Hence the remedy which nature points out to us, 
 when we find ourselves overpowered by imagination. 
 If every thing around us be silent, we endeavour to 
 create a noise, by speaking aloud, or beating with 
 our feet ; that is, we strive to divert the attention 
 from the subjects of our imagination, by presenting 
 an object to our powers of perception. The con- 
 clusion which I draw from these observations is y that, 
 as there is no state of the body in which our percep- 
 tive powers are so totally unemployed as in sleep, it is 
 natural to think, that the objects which we conceive 
 or imagine, must then make an impression on the 
 mind, beyond comparison greater, than any thing 
 of which we can have experience while awake. 
 
 From these principles may be derived a simple,
 
 Part I. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 845 
 
 and, 1 think, a satisfactory explanation of what some 
 writers have represented as the most mysterious of all 
 the circumstances connected with dreaming; the in* 
 accurate estimates we are apt to form of Time, while 
 we are thus employed; an inaccuracy which some- 
 times extends so far, as to give to a single instant, 
 the appearance of hours, or perhaps of days. A sud- 
 den noise, for example, suggests a dream connected 
 with that perception ; and, the moment afterwards, 
 this noise has the effect of awaking us ; and yet, 
 during that momentary interval, a long series of cir- 
 cumstances has passed before the imagination. The 
 story quoted by Mr. Addison * from the Turkish 
 Tales, of the miracle wrought by a Mahometan 
 Doctor, to convince an infidel Sultan, is, in such 
 cases, nearly verified. 
 
 The facts I allude to at present are generally ex- 
 plained by supposing, that, in our dreams, the rapi- 
 dity of thought is greater than while we are awake : 
 but there is no necessity for having recourse to 
 such a supposition. The rapidity of thought is, at 
 all times, such, that in the twinkling of an eye, a 
 crowd of ideas may pass before us, to which it would 
 require a long discourse to give utterance; and trans- 
 actions may be conceived, which it would require 
 days to realize. But, in sleep, the conceptions of the 
 mind are mistaken for realities ; and therefore, our 
 estimates of Time will be formed, not according to 
 our experience of the rapidity of thought, but ac- 
 cording to our experience of the time requisite for 
 realizing what we conceive. Something perfectly 
 analogous to this may be remarked in the percep- 
 
 * SPECTATOR, No. 94.
 
 346 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 tions we obtain by the sense of sight. When I look 
 into a shew-box, where the deception is imperfect, I 
 see only a set of paltry dawbings of a few inches 
 diameter ; but, if the representation be executed 
 with so much skill, as to convey to me the idea of a 
 distant prospect, every object before me swells in its 
 dimensions, in proportion to the extent of space which 
 I conceive it to occupy ; and what seemed before 
 to be shut up within the limits of a small wooden 
 frame, is magnified, in my apprehension, to an im- 
 mense landscape of woods, rivers, and mountains. 
 
 The phenomena which we have hitherto explain- 
 ed, take place when sleep seems to be complete ; 
 that is, when the mind loses its influence over all 
 those powers whose exercise depends on its will. 
 There are, however, many cases in which sleep seems 
 to be partial ; that is, when the mind loses its influ- 
 ence over some powers, and retains it over others. 
 In the case of the somnambuli, it retains its power 
 over the limbs, but it possesses no influence over its 
 own thoughts, and scarcely any over the body ; ex- 
 cepting those particular members of it which are em- 
 ployed in walking. In madness, the powers of the 
 will over the body remains undiminished, while its 
 influence in regulating the train of thought is in a 
 great measure suspended ; either in consequence of 
 a particular idea, which engrosses the attention, to 
 the exclusion of every thing else, and which we find 
 it impossible to banish by our efforts ; or in conse- 
 quence of our thoughts succeeding each other with 
 such rapidity, that we are unable to stop the train. 
 In both of these kinds of madness, it is worthy of 
 remark, that the conceptions or imaginations of the
 
 Parti. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 347 
 
 mind becoming independent of our will, they are apt 
 to be mistaken for actual perceptions, and to affect 
 us in the same manner. 
 
 By means of this supposition of a partial sleep, 
 any apparent exceptions which the history of dreams 
 may afford to the general principles already stated, 
 admit of an easy explanation. 
 
 Upon reviewing the foregoing observations, it 
 does not occur to me, that I have in any instance 
 transgressed those rules of philosophising, which, 
 since the time of Newton, are commonly appealed 
 to, as the tests of sound investigation. For, in the 
 first place, I have not supposed any causes which 
 are not known to exist ; and secondly, I have 
 shewn, that the phenomena under our considera- 
 tion are necessary consequences of the causes to 
 which I have referred them. I have not supposed 
 that the mind acquires in sleep, any new faculty of 
 which we are not conscious while awake ; but only 
 (what we know to be a fact) that it retains some of 
 its powers, while the exercise of others is suspended: 
 and I have deduced synthetically, the known phe- 
 nomena of dreaming, from the operation of a par- 
 ticular class of our faculties, unconnected by the 
 operation of another. I flatter myself, therefore, 
 that this inquiry will not only throw some light on 
 the state of the mind in sleep ; but that it will have 
 a tendency to illustrate the mutual adaptation and 
 subserviency which exists among the different parts 
 of our constitution, when we are in complete pos- 
 session of all the faculties and principles which 
 belong to our nature. * 
 
 * See Note [O].
 
 348 
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 Of the Influence of Association on the Intellectual 
 and on the Active Powers. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Influence of casual Associations on our speculative 
 Conclusions. 
 
 THE Association of ideas has a tendency to warp 
 our speculative opinions chiefly in the three follow- 
 ing ways : 
 
 First, by blending together in our apprehensions, 
 things which are really distinct in their nature ; so 
 as to introduce perplexity and error into every pro- 
 cess of reasoning in which they are involved. 
 
 Secondly; by misleading us in those anticipations 
 of the future from the past, which our constitution 
 disposes us to form, and which are the great found- 
 ation of our conduct in life. 
 
 Thirdly, by connecting in the mind erroneous 
 opinions, with truths which irresistibly command 
 our assent, and which we feel to be of importance 
 to human happiness. 
 
 A short illustration of these remarks, will throw 
 light on the origin of various prejudices j and may,
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. S49 
 
 perhaps, suggest some practical hints with respect 
 to the conduct of the understanding. 
 
 I. I formerly had occasion to mention several 
 instances of very intimate associations formed be- 
 tween two ideas which have no necessary connexion 
 with each other. One of the most remarkable is, 
 that which exists in every person's mind between 
 the notions of colour and of extension. The former 
 of these words expresses (at least in the sense in 
 which we commonly employ it) a sensation in the 
 mind ; the latter denotes a quality of an external 
 object ; so that there is, in fact, no more connexion 
 between the two notions than between those of pain 
 and of solidity*; and yet, in consequence of our 
 always perceiving extension, at the same time at 
 which the sensation of colour is excited in the 
 mind, we find it impossible to think of that sensa- 
 tion, without conceiving extension along with it. 
 
 Another intimate association is formed in every 
 mind between the ideas of space and of time. When 
 we think of an interval of duration, we always con- 
 ceive it as something analogous to a line, and we 
 apply the same language to both subjects. We 
 speak of a long and short time, as well as of a long 
 and short distance ; and we are not conscious of any 
 metaphor in doing so. Nay, so very perfect does 
 the analogy appear to us, that Boscovich mentions 
 it as a curious circumstance, that extension should 
 have three dimensions, and duration only one. 
 
 This apprehended analogy seems to be founded 
 wholly on an association between the ideas of space 
 and of time, arising from our always measuring the 
 * See Note [P],
 
 350 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 one of these quantities by the other. We measure 
 time by motion, and motion by extension. In an 
 hour, the hand of the clock moves over a certain 
 space ; in two hours, over double the space ; and 
 so on. Hence the ideas of space and of time be- 
 come very intimately united, and we apply to the 
 latter the words long and short, before and after, 
 in the same manner as to the former. 
 
 The apprehended analogy between the relation 
 which the different notes in the scale of music bear 
 to each other, and the relation of superiority and 
 inferiority, in respect of position, among material 
 objects, arises also from an accidental association 
 of ideas. 
 
 What this association is founded upon, I shall 
 not take upon me to determine ; but that it is the 
 effect of accident, appears clearly from this, that it 
 has not only been confined to particular ages and 
 nations ; but is the very reverse of an association 
 which was once equally prevalent. It is observed 
 by Dr. Gregory, in the preface to his edition of 
 Euclid's works, that the more ancient of the Greek 
 writers looked upon grave sounds as high, and 
 acutes ones as low ; and that the present mode of 
 expression on that subject, was an innovation in- 
 troduced at a later period.* 
 
 In the instances which have now been mentioned, 
 our habits of combining the notions of two things, 
 become so strong, that we find it impossible to 
 think of the one, without thinking at the same 
 time of the other. Various other examples of the 
 same species of combination, although, perhaps, 
 * See Note [Q].
 
 Part II. $ 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 351 
 
 not altogether so striking in degree, might easily 
 be collected from the subjects about which our me- 
 taphysical speculations are employed. The sen- 
 sations, for instance, which are excited in the mind 
 by external objects, and the perceptions of material 
 qualities which follow these sensations, are to be 
 distinguished from each other only by long habits 
 of patient reflexion. A clear conception of this 
 distinction may be regarded as the key to all Dr. 
 Reid's reasonings concerning the process of nature 
 in perception ; and, till it has once been rendered 
 familiar to the reader, a great part of his writings 
 must appear unsatisfactory and obscure. In truth, 
 our progress in the philosophy of the human mind 
 depends much more on that severe and discrimi- 
 nating judgment, which enables us to separate 
 ideas which nature or habit have immediately com- 
 bined, than on acuteness of reasoning or fertility 
 of invention. And hence it is, that metaphysical 
 studies are the best of all preparations for those 
 philosophical pursuits which relate to the conduct 
 of life. In none of these do we meet with casual 
 combinations so intimate and indissoluble as those 
 which occur in metaphysics ; and he who has been 
 accustomed to such discriminations as this science 
 requires, will not easily be imposed on by that 
 confusion of ideas, which warps the judgments of 
 the multitude in moral, religious, and political in- 
 quiries. 
 
 From the facts which have now been stated, it is 
 easy to conceive the manner in which the association 
 of ideas has a tendency to mislead the judgment, 
 <in the first of the three cases already enumerated.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 When two subjects of thought are so intimately con- 
 nected together in the mind, that we find it scarcely 
 possible to consider them apart ; it must require no 
 common efforts of attention, to conduct any process 
 of reasoning which relates to either. I formerly 
 took notice of the errors to which we are exposed 
 in consequence of the ambiguity of words ; and of 
 the necessity of frequently checking and correcting 
 our general reasonings by means of particular ex- 
 amples ; but in the cases to which I allude at pre- 
 sent, there is (if I may use the expression) an am- 
 biguity of things; so that even when the mind is 
 occupied about particulars, it finds it difficult to 
 separate the proper objects of its attention from 
 others with which it has been long accustomed to 
 blend them. The cases, indeed, in which such ob- 
 stinate and invincible associations are formed 
 among different subjects of thought, are not very 
 numerous, and occur chiefly in our metaphysical 
 researches ; but in every mind, casual combinations 
 of an inferior degree of strength, have an habitual 
 effect in disturbing the intellectual powers, and are 
 not to be conquered without persevering exertions, 
 of which few men are capable- The obvious effects 
 which this tendency to combination produces on 
 the judgment, in confounding together those ideas 
 which it is the province of the metaphysician to 
 distinguish, sufficiently illustrate the mode of its 
 operation in those numerous instances, in which 
 its influence, though not so complete and striking, 
 is equally real, and far more dangerous. 
 
 II. The association of ideas is a source of specu- 
 lative error, by misleading us in those anticipations 
 
 3
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 353 
 
 of thefuture from the past, which are the founda- 
 tion of our conduct in life. 
 
 The great object of philosophy, as I have already 
 remarked more than once, is to ascertain the laws 
 which regulate the succession of events, botli in the 
 physical and moral worlds; in order that, when 
 called upon to act in any particular combination of 
 circumstances, we may be enabled to anticipate the 
 probable course of nature from our past experience, 
 and to regulate our conduct accordingly. 
 
 As a knowledge of the established connexions 
 among events, is the foundation of sagacity and of 
 skill, both in the practical arts, and in the conduct 
 of life, nature has not only given to all men a strong 
 disposition to remark, with attention and curiosity, 
 those phenomena which have been observed to 
 happen nearly at the same time ; but has beautifully 
 adapted to the uniformity of her own operations, the 
 laws of association in the human mind, By render- 
 ing contiguity in time one of the strongest of our 
 associating principles, she has conjoined together in 
 our thoughts, the same events which we have found 
 conjoined in our experience, and has thus accommo- 
 dated (without any effort on our part) the order of 
 our ideas to that scene in which we are destined 
 to act. 
 
 The degree of experience which is necessary for 
 the preservation of our animal existence, is acquire4 
 by all men without any particular efforts of study. 
 The laws of nature, which it is most material for us 
 to know, are exposed to the immediate observation 
 of our senses ; and establish, by means of the prin- 
 ciple pf association, a corresponding order in 6ur 
 
 A A 

 
 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY - Chap. V. 
 
 thoughts, long before the dawn of reason and re- 
 flexion ; or at least long before that period of child- 
 hood, to which our recollection afterwards extends. 
 This tendency of the mind to associate together 
 events which have been presented to it nearly at the 
 same time ; although, on the whole, it is attended 
 with infinite advantages, yet, like many other prin- 
 ciples of our nature, may occasionally be a source of 
 inconvenience, unless we avail ourselves of our reason 
 and of our experience in keeping it under proper re- 
 gulation. Among the various phenomena which are 
 continually passing before us, there is a great pro- 
 portion, whose vicinity in time does not indicate a 
 constancy of conjunction ; and unless we be careful 
 to make the distinction between these two classes of 
 connexions, the order of our ideas will be apt to cor- 
 respond with the one as well as with the other ; and 
 our unenlightened experience of the past, will fill the 
 mind, in numberless instances, with vain expecta- 
 tions, or with groundless alarms, concerning the fu- 
 ture. This disposition to confound together acci- 
 dental and permanent connexions, is one great 
 source of popular superstitions. Hence the regard 
 which is paid to unlucky days; to unlucky colours; 
 and to the influence of the planets ; apprehensions, 
 which render human life, to many, a continued 
 series of absurd terrors. Lucretius compares them 
 to those which children feel, from an idea of the 
 existence of spirits in the dark. 
 
 " Ac veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia caecis 
 " In tenebris metuunt, sic nos in luce timemus, 
 " Interdura nihilo quse sunt metuenda magis." 
 
 Such spectres can be dispelled by the light of phi- 
 losophy only ; which, by accustoming us to trace
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 355 
 
 established connexions, teaches us to despise those 
 which are casual ; and, by giving a proper direction 
 to that bias of the mind which is the foundation of 
 superstition, prevents it from leading us astray. 
 
 In the instances which we have now been consi- 
 dering, events come to be combined together in the 
 mind, merely from the accidental circumstance of 
 their contiguity in time, at the moment when we 
 perceived them. Such combinations are confined, in 
 a great measure, to uncultivated and unenlightened 
 minds j or to those individuals who, from nature or 
 education, have a more than ordinary facility of as- 
 sociation. But there are other accidental combina- 
 tions, which are apt to lay hold of the most vigorous 
 understandings; and from which, as they are the 
 natural and necessary result of a limited experience, 
 no superiority of intellect is sufficient to preserve a 
 philosopher, in the infancy of physical science. 
 
 As the connexions among physical events are dis- 
 covered to us by experience alone, it is evident, that 
 when we see a phenomenon preceded by a number 
 of different circumstances, it is impossible for us to 
 determine, by any reasoning a priori, which of these 
 circumstances are to be regarded as the constant, 
 and which as the accidental, antecedents of the effect. 
 If, in the course of our experience, the same com- 
 bination of circumstances is always exhibited to us 
 without any alteration, and is invariably followed by 
 the same result, we must for ever remain ignorant, 
 whether this result be connected with the whole 
 combination, or with one or more of the circum- 
 stances combined j and therefore, if we are anxioois, 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 upon any occasion, to produce a similar effect, the 
 only rule that we can follow with perfect security, 
 is to imitate in every particular circumstance the 
 combination which we have seen. It is only where 
 we have an opportunity of separating such circum- 
 stances from each other ; of combining them va- 
 riously together ; and of observing the effects which 
 result from these different experiments, that we can 
 ascertain with precision, the general laws of nature, 
 and strip physical causes of their accidental and un- 
 essential concomitants. 
 
 To illustrate this by an example. Let us suppose 
 that a savage, who, in a particular instance, had 
 found himself relieved of some bodily indisposition 
 by a draught of cold water, is a second time afflicted 
 with a similar disorder, and is desirous to repeat the 
 same remedy. With a limited degree of expe- 
 rience which we have here supposed him to possess, 
 it would be impossible for the acutest philosopher, 
 in his situation, to determine, whether the cure was 
 owing to the water which was drunk, to the cup in 
 which it was contained, to the fountain from which 
 it was taken, to the particular day of the month, or 
 to the particular age of the moon. In order, there- 
 fore, to ensure the success of the remedy, he will 
 very naturally, and very wisely, copy, as far as he 
 can recollect, every circumstance which accom- 
 panied the first application of it. He will make use 
 of the same cup, draw the water from the same 
 fountain, hold his body in the same posture, and 
 turn his face in the same direction j and thus all 
 the accidental circumstances in which the first 
 experiment was made, will come to be associated
 
 fttft'II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 equally in his mind with the effect produced. The 
 fountain from which the water was drawn, will be 
 considered as possessed of particular virtues ; and 
 the cup from which it was drunk, will be set apart 
 from vulgar uses, for the sake of those who may 
 afterwards have occasion to apply the remedy. It 
 is the enlargement of experience alone, and not any 
 progress in the art of reasoning, which can cure 
 the mind of these associations, and free the practice 
 of medicine from those superstitious observances 
 with which we always find it incumbered among 
 rude nations. 
 
 Many instances of this species of superstition 
 might be produced from the works of philosophers 
 who have flourished in more enlightened ages. In 
 particular, many might be produced from the writ- 
 ings of those physical inquirers who immediately 
 succeeded to Lord Bacon ; and who, convinced by 
 his arguments ; of the folly of all reasonings a priori, 
 concerning the laws of nature, were frequently apt 
 to run into the opposite extreme, by recording every 
 circumstance, even the most ludicrous, and the most 
 obviously inessential, which attended their ex- 
 periments. * 
 
 The observations which have been hitherto made, 
 relate entirely to associations founded on casual 
 
 * The reader will scarcely believe, that the following cure for 
 a dysentery is copied verbatim from the works of Mr. Boyle : 
 
 " Take the thigh-bone of a hanged man, (perhaps another may 
 " serve, but this was still made use of,) calcine it to whiteness, 
 " and having purged the patient with an antimonial medicine, 
 " give him one drachm of this white powder for one dose, in 
 ' some good cordial, whether conserve or liquor." 
 AA 3
 
 658 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V 
 
 combinations of material objects, or of physical 
 events. The effects which these associations pro- 
 duce on the understanding, and which are so pal- 
 pable, that they cannot fail to strike the most care- 
 less observer, will prepare the reader for the remarks 
 I am now to make, on some analogous prejudices 
 which warp our opinions on still more important 
 subjects. 
 
 As the established laws of the material world, 
 which have been exhibited to our senses from our 
 infancy, gradually accommodate to themselves the 
 order of our thoughts ; so the most arbitrary and 
 capricious institutions and customs, by a long and 
 constant and exclusive operation on the mind, ac- 
 quire such an influence in forming the intellectual 
 habits, that every deviation from them not only 
 produces surprise, but is apt to excite sentiments 
 of contempt and of ridicule. A person who has 
 never extended his views beyond that society of 
 which he himself is a member, is apt to consider 
 many peculiarities in the manners and customs of 
 his countrymen as founded on the universal prin- 
 ciples of the human constitution; and when he 
 hears of other nations, whose practices ill similar 
 cases are different, he is apt to censure them as 
 unnatural, and to despise them as absurd. There 
 are two classes of men who have more particularly 
 been charged with this weakness ; those who are 
 placed at the bottom, and those who have reached 
 the summit of the scale of refinement ; the former 
 from ignorance, and the latter from national vanity. 
 
 For curing this class of prejudices, the obvious 
 expedient which nature points out to us, is to extend
 
 Part II. $1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 859 
 
 our acquaintance with human affairs, either by means 
 of books, or of personal observation. The effects of 
 travelling, in enlarging and in enlightening the mind, 
 are obvious to our daily experience ; and similar ad- 
 vantages may be derived (although, perhaps, not in 
 an equal degree) from a careful study of the man- 
 ners of past ages or of distant nations, as they are 
 described by the historian. In making, however, 
 these attempts for our intellectual improvement, it 
 is of the utmost consequence to us to vary, to a con- 
 siderable degree, the objects of our attention ; in 
 order to prevent any danger of our acquiring an ex- 
 clusive preference for the caprices of any one people, 
 whose political situation, or whose moral character, 
 may attach us to them as faultless models for our 
 imitation. The same weakness and versatility of 
 mind ; the same facility of association, which, in 
 the 'case of a person who has never extended his 
 views beyond his own community, is a source of 
 national prejudice, and of national bigotry, renders 
 the mind, when forced into new situations, easily 
 susceptible of other prejudices no less capricious ; 
 and frequently prevents the time, which is devoted 
 to travelling, or to study, from being subservient 
 to any better purpose, than an importation of foreign 
 fashions, or a still more ludicrous imitation of ancient 
 follies. 
 
 The philosopher whose thoughts dwell habitually 
 not merely upon what is, or what has been, but upon 
 what is best and most expedient for mankind ; who, 
 to the study of books, and the observation of man- 
 ners, has added a careful examination of the prin- 
 ciples of the human constitution, and of those which 
 A A 4
 
 S60 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY chap. v> 
 
 ought to regulate the social order ; is the only pef- 
 son who is effectually secured against both the 
 weaknesses which I have described. By learning 
 to separate what is essential to morality and to hap- 
 piness, from those adventitious trifles which it is the 
 province of fashion to direct, he is equally guarded 
 against the follies of national prejudice, and a weak 
 deviation, in matters of indifference, from esta- 
 blished ideas. Upon his mind, thus occupied with 
 important subjects of reflexion, the fluctuating 
 caprices and fashions of the times lose their influence; 
 while accustomed to avoid the slavery of local and 
 arbitrary habits, he possesses, in his own genuine 
 simplicity of character, the same power of accom- 
 modation to external circumstances, which men of 
 the world derive from the pliability of their taste, 
 and the versatility of their manners*. As the order, 
 too, of his ideas is accommodated, not to what is casu- 
 ally presented from without, but to his own system- 
 atical principles, his associations are subject only to 
 those slow and pleasing changes which arise from his 
 growing light and improving reason ; and, in such a 
 period of the world as the present, whendhe press not 
 only excludes the possibility of a permanent retro- 
 gradation in human affairs, but operates with an 
 irresistible though gradual progress, in undermining 
 prejudices and in extending the triumphs of phi- 
 losophy, he may reasonably indulge the hope, that 
 society will every day approach nearer and nearer 
 to what he wishes it to be. A man of such a cha- 
 racter, instead of looking back on the past with re- 
 gret, finds himself (if I may use the expression) more 
 at home in the world, and more satisfied with its or-
 
 Part It 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 361 
 
 der, the longer he lives in it. The melancholy con- 
 trasts which old men are sometimes disposed to state, 
 between its condition, when they are about to leave 
 it, and that in which they found it at the commence- 
 ment of their career, arises, in most cases, from the 
 unlimited influence which in their early years they 
 had allowed to the fashions of the times, in the 
 formation of their characters. How different from 
 those sentiments and prospects which dignified the 
 retreat of Turgot, and brightened the declining 
 years of Franklin ! 
 
 The querulous temper, however, which is incident 
 to old men, although it renders their manners dis- 
 agreeable in the intercourse of social life, is by no 
 means the most contemptible form in which the pre- 
 judices I have now been describing may display 
 their influence. Such a temper indicates at least a 
 certain degree of observation, in marking the vicis- 
 situdes of human affairs, and a certain degree of 
 sensibility in early life, which has connected pleasing 
 ideas with the scenes of infancy and youth. A very 
 great proportion of mankind are, in a great measure, 
 incapable either of the one or of the other ; and, 
 suffering themselves to be carried quietly along with 
 the stream of fashion, and finding their opinions 
 and their feelings always in the same relative situ- 
 ation to the fleeting objects around them, are per- 
 fectly unconscious of any progress in their own 
 ideas, or of any change in the manners of their age. 
 In vain the philosopher reminds them of the opi- 
 nions they yesterday held; and forewarns them, 
 from the spirit of the times, of those which they are 
 to hold to-morrow. The opinions of the present
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 moment seem to them to be inseparable from their 
 constitution ; and when the prospects are realised, 
 which they lately treated as chimerical, their minds 
 are so gradually prepared for the event, that they 
 behold it without any emotions of wonder or curi- 
 osity ; and it is to the philosopher alone, by whom 
 it was predicted, that it appears to furnish a subject 
 worthy of future reflexion. 
 
 The prejudices to which the last observations re- 
 late, have their origin in that disposition of our na- 
 ture, which accommodates the order of our ideas, 
 and our various intellectual habits, to whatever ap- 
 pearances have been long and familiarly presented 
 to the mind. But there are other prejudices, which, 
 by being intimately associated with the essential 
 principles of our constitution, or with the original 
 and universal laws of our belief, ase incomparably 
 more inveterate in their nature, and have a far 
 more extensive influence on human character and 
 happiness. 
 
 III. The manner in which the association of ideas 
 operates in producing this third class of our specu- 
 lative errors, maybe conceived, in part, from what 
 was formerly said, concerning the superstitious ob- 
 servances, which are mixed with the practice of me- 
 dicine among rude nations. As all the different 
 circumstances which accompanied the first admini- 
 stration of a remedy, come to be considered as es- 
 sential to its future success, and are blended to- 
 gether in our conceptions, without any discrimin ation 
 of their relative importance ; so, whatever tenets 
 and ceremonies we have been taught to connect 
 with the religious creed of our infancy, become
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 363 
 
 almost a part of our constitution, by being indis- 
 solubly united with truths which are essential to 
 happiness, and which we are led to reverence and to 
 love, by all the best dispositions of the heart. The 
 astonishment which the peasant feels, when he sees 
 the rites of a religion different from his own, is not 
 less great than if he saw some flagrant breach of the 
 moral duties, or some direct act of impiety to God; 
 nor is it easy for him to conceive, that there can be 
 any thing worthy in a mind which treats with indif- 
 ference, what awakens in his own breast, all its best 
 and sublimest emotions. " Is it possible," (says 
 the old and expiring Bramin, in one of Marmontel's 
 tales, to the -young English officer who had saved 
 the life of his daughter,) " is it possible, that he to 
 " whose compassion I owe the preservation of my 
 " child, and who now soothes my last moments with 
 " the consolations of piety, should not believe in 
 " the god Vistnou, and his nine metamorphoses !" 
 
 What has now been said on the nature of religious 
 superstition, maybe applied to many other subjects. 
 In particular, it may be applied to those political 
 prejudices which bias the judgment even of en- 
 lightened men in all countries of the world. 
 
 How deeply rooted in the human frame are those 
 important principles, which interest the good man 
 in the prosperity of the world ; and more especially 
 in the prosperity of that beloved community to 
 which he belongs ! How small, at the same time, is 
 the number of individuals who, accustomed to con- 
 template one modification alone of the social order, 
 are able to distinguish the circumstances which are 
 essential to human happiness, from those which are
 
 36* ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 indifferent or hurtful ! In such a situation, how 
 natural is it for a man of benevolence, to acquire an 
 indiscriminate and superstitious veneration for all 
 the institutions under which he has been educated ; 
 as these institutions, however capricious and absurd 
 in themselves, are not only familiarised by habit to 
 all his thoughts and feelings, but are consecrated in 
 his mind by an indissoluble association with duties 
 which nature recommends to his affections, and 
 which reason commands him to fulfil. It is on these 
 accounts that a superstitions zeal against innovation, 
 both in religion and politics, where it is evidently 
 grafted on piety to God, and good-will to mankind, 
 however it may excite the sorrow of the more en- 
 lightened philosopher, is justly entitled, not only to 
 his indulgence, but to his esteem and affection. 
 
 The remarks which have been already made, are 
 sufficient to shew, how necessary it is for us, in the 
 formation of our philosophical principles, to examine 
 with care all those opinions which, in our early years, 
 we have imbibed from our instructors ; or which 
 are connected with our own local situation. Nor 
 does the universality of an opinion among men who 
 have received a similar education, afford any pre- 
 sumption in its favour ; for however great the de- 
 ference is, which a wise man will always pay to 
 common belief upon those subjects, which have 
 employed the unbiassed reason of mankind, he cer- 
 tainly owes it no respect, in so far as he suspects it 
 to be influenced by fashion or authority. Nothing 
 can be more just than the observation of Fontenelle, 
 that " the number of those who believe in a system 
 -*' already established in the world, does not, in
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. SQ5 
 
 " the least, add to its credibility ; but that the 
 " number of those who doubt of it, has a tendency 
 " to diminish it." 
 
 The same remarks lead, upon the other hand, to- 
 another conclusion of still greater importance ; that, 
 notwithstanding the various false opinions which are 
 current in the world, there are some truths, which 
 are inseparable from the human understanding, and 
 by means of which, the errors of education, in most 
 instances, are enabled to take hold of our belief. 
 
 A weak mind, unaccustomed to reflexion, and 
 which has passively derived its most important opi- 
 nions from habits or from authority, when, in con- 
 sequence of a more enlarged intercourse with the 
 world, it finds, that ideas which it had been taught 
 to regard as sacred, are treated by enlightened and 
 worthy men with ridicule, is apt to lose its reve- 
 rence for the fundamental and eternal truths on 
 which these accessory ideas are grafted, and easily 
 falls a prey to that sceptical philosophy which 
 teaches, that all the opinions, and all the principles 
 of action by which mankind are governed, may be 
 traced to the influence of education and example. 
 Amidst the infinite variety of forms, however, 
 which our versatile nature assumes, it cannot fail 
 to strike an attentive observer, that there are cer- 
 tain indelible features common to them all. In one 
 situation, we find good men attached to a repu- 
 blican form of government ; in another, to a mo- 
 narchy ; but in all situations, we find them devoted 
 to the service of their country and of mankind, 
 and disposed to regard, with reverence and love, 
 the most absurd and capricious institutions which 
 
 3
 
 366 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 custom has led them to connect with the order of 
 society. The different appearances, therefore, 
 which the political opinions and the political con- 
 duct of men exhibit, while they demonstrate to 
 what a wonderful degree human nature may be 
 influenced by situation and by early instruction, 
 evince the existence of some common and original 
 principles, which fit it for the political union, and 
 illustrate the uniform operation of those laws of 
 association, to which, in all the stages of society, 
 it is equally subject. 
 
 Similar observations are applicable, and, indeed, 
 in a still more striking degree, to the opinions of 
 mankind on the important questions of religion and 
 morality. The variety of systems which they have 
 formed to themselves concerning these subjects, 
 has often excited the ridicule of the sceptic and the 
 libertine ; but if, on the one hand, this variety shews 
 the folly of bigotry, and the reasonableness of mu- 
 tual indulgence ; the curiosity which has led men 
 in every situation' to such speculations, and the in- 
 fluence which their conclusions, however absurd, 
 have had on their character and their happiness, ' 
 prove, no less clearly, on the other, that there must 
 be some principles from which they all derive their 
 origin ; and invite the philosopher to ascertain what 
 are these original and immutable laws of the human 
 mind. 
 
 " Examine" (says Mr. Hume) " the religious 
 " principles which have prevailed in the world. 
 " You will scarcely be persuaded, that they are any 
 " thing but sick- men's dreams; or, perhaps, will 
 " regard them more as the playsome whimsies of
 
 Part II. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 367 
 
 " monkeys in human shape, than the serious, po- 
 " sitive, dogmatical asseverations of a being, who 
 " dignifies himself with the name of rational." 
 
 o 
 
 " To oppose the torrent of scholastic religion by 
 " such feeble maxims as these, that it is impossible 
 " for the same thing to be and not to be ; that 
 " the whole is greater than a part ; that two and 
 " three make five ; is pretending to stop the ocean 
 " with a bulrush." But what is the inference to 
 which we are led by these observations? Is 
 it, (to use the words of this ingenious writer,) 
 " that the whole is a riddle, an aenigma, an in- 
 " explicable mystery ; and that doubt, uncertainty, 
 " and suspense, appear the only result of our most 
 " accurate scrutiny concerning this subject?" Or 
 should not rather the melancholy histories which 
 he has exhibited of the follies and caprices of su- 
 perstition, direct our attention to those sacred and 
 indelible characters on the human mind, which all 
 these perversions of reason are unable to obliterate; 
 like that image of himselfj which Phidias wished 
 to perpetuate, by stamping it so deeply on the 
 buckler of his Minerva; "ut nemo delere posset 
 aut divellere, qui totam statuam non imminueret."* 
 In truth, the more strange the contradictions, and 
 the more ludicrous the ceremonies to which the 
 pride of human reason has thus been reconciled ; 
 the stronger is our evidence that religion has a 
 foundation in the nature of man. When the 
 greatest of modern philosophers declares, that " he 
 " would rather believe all the fables in the Legend, 
 
 * Select Discourses by JOHN SMITH, p. 119. Cambridge, 
 1673.
 
 363 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " and the Talmud, and the Alcoran, than that 
 "this universal frame is without mind*;" he has 
 expressed the same feeling, which, in all ages and 
 nations, has led good men, unaccustomed to reason- 
 ing, to an implicit faith in the creed of their in- 
 fancy; a feeling which affords an evidence of 
 the existence of the Deity, incomparably more 
 striking, than if, unmixed with error and undebased 
 by superstition, this most important of all prin- 
 ciples had commanded the universal assent of 
 mankind. Where are the other truths, in the whole 
 circle of the sciences, which are so essential to 
 human happiness, as to procure an easy access, not 
 only for themselves, but for whatever opinions may 
 happen to be blended with them ? Where are the 
 truths so venerable and commanding, as to impart 
 their own sublimity to every trifling memorial 
 which recals them to our remembrance ; to bestow 
 solemnity and elevation on every mode of expres- 
 sion by which they are conveyed ; and which, in 
 whatever scene they have habitually occupied the 
 thoughts, consecrate every object which it presents 
 to our senses, and the very ground we have been 
 accustomed to tread ? To attempt to weaken the 
 authority of such impressions, by a detail of the 
 endless variety of forms, which they derive from 
 casual associations, is surely an employment un- 
 suitable to the dignity of philosophy. To the 
 vulgar, it may be amusing, in this, as in other in- 
 stances, to indulge their wonder at what is new or 
 uncommon; but to the philosopher it belongs to 
 perceive, under all these various disguises, the 
 * Lord BACON, in his Essays.
 
 Part II. 2. F THE HUMAN MIND. 369 
 
 workings of the same common nature ; and in the 
 superstitions of Egypt, no less than in the lofty 
 visions of Plato, to recognize the existence of those 
 moral ties which unite the heart of man to the 
 Author of his being. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Influence of the Association of Ideas on our Judgments in 
 Matters of Taste. 
 
 THE very general obervations which I am to make 
 in this Section, do not presuppose any particular 
 theory concerning the nature of Taste. It is suffi- 
 cient for my purpose to remark, that Taste is not a 
 simple and original faculty, but a power gradually 
 formed by experience and observation. It implies, 
 indeed, as its ground-work, a certain degree of na- 
 tural sensibility j but it implies also the exercise of 
 the judgment ; and is the slow result of an attentive 
 examination and comparison of tbe agreeable or 
 disagreeable effects produced on the mind by ex- 
 ternal objects. 
 
 Such of my readers as are acquainted with " An 
 " Essay on the Nature and Principles of Taste," 
 lately published by Mr. Alison, will not be surprised 
 that I decline the discussion of a subject which he 
 has treated with so much ingenuity and elegance. 
 
 The view which was formerly given of the pro- 
 cess by which the general laws of the material 
 world are investigated, and which I endeavoured to 
 illustrate by the state of medicine among rude 
 nations, is strictly applicable to the history of Taste. 
 That certain objects are fitted to give pleasure, and 
 
 B B
 
 370 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 others disgust, to the mind, we know from expe- 
 rience alone ; and it is impossible for us, by any 
 reasoning a priori, to explain how the pleasure or the 
 pain is produced. In the works of nature we find, 
 in many instances, Beauty and Sublimity involved 
 among circumstances, which are either indifferent, 
 or which obstruct the general effect : and it is only 
 by a train of experiments, that we can separate 
 those circumstances from the rest, and ascertain 
 with what particular qualities the pleasing effect is 
 connected. Accordingly, the inexperienced artist, 
 when he copies Nature, will copy her servilely, that 
 he may be certain of securing the pleasing effect ; 
 and the beauties of his performances will be en- 
 cumbered with a number of superfluous or of dis- 
 agreeable concomitants. Experience and observ- 
 ation alone can enable him to make this discri- 
 mination ; to exhibit the principles of beauty pure 
 and unadulterated, and to form a creation of his own, 
 more faultless than ever fell under the observation 
 of his senses. 
 
 This analogy between the progress of Taste from 
 rudeness to refinement ; and the progress of phy- 
 sical knowledge from the superstitions of a savage 
 tribe, to the investigation of the laws of nature, pro- 
 ceeds on the supposition, that, as in the material 
 world there are general facts, beyond which phi- 
 losophy is unable to proceed ; so, in the consti- 
 tution of man, there is an inexplicable adaptation of 
 the mind to the objects with which these faculties 
 are conversant ; in consequence of which, these ob- 
 jects are fitted to produce agreeable or disagreeable 
 emotions. In both cases, reasoning may be em-
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 371 
 
 ployed with propriety to refer particular phenomena 
 to general principles ; but in both cases, we must 
 at last arrive at principles of which no account can 
 be given, but that such is the will of our Maker. 
 
 A great part, too, of the remarks which were 
 made in the last Section on the origin of popular 
 prejudices, may be applied to explain the influence 
 of casual associations on Taste j but these remarks 
 do not so completely exhaust the subject, as to 
 supersede the necessity of farther illustration. In 
 matters of Taste, the effects which we consider, are 
 produced on the Mind itself j and are accompanied 
 either with pleasure or with pain. Hence the ten- 
 dency to casual association, is much stronger than 
 it commonly is, with respect to physical events ; and 
 when such associations are once formed, as they do 
 not lead to any important inconvenience, sinylar to 
 those which result from physical mistakes, they are 
 not so likely to be corrected by mere experience, 
 unassisted by study. To this it is owing, that the 
 influence of association on our judgments concern- 
 ing_beauty and deformity, is still more remarkable 
 than on our speculative conclusions ; a circumstance 
 which has led some philosophers to suppose, that 
 association is sufficient to account for the origin of 
 these notions ; and that there is no such thing as a 
 standard of Taste, founded on the principles of 
 the human constitution. But this is undoubtedly 
 pushing the theory a great deal too far. The asso- 
 ciation of ideas can never account for the origin of 
 a new notion ; or of a pleasure essentially different 
 from all the others which we know. It may, indeed, 
 enable us to conceive how a thing indifferent in it- 
 
 B B L Z
 
 372 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 self, may become a source of pleasure, by being 
 connected in the mind with something else which 
 is naturally agreeable ; but it presupposes, in every 
 instance, the existence of those notions and those 
 feelings which it is its province to combine : inso- 
 much that, I apprehend, it will be found, where- 
 ever association produces a change in our judg- 
 ments on matters of Taste, it does so, by co-operating 
 with some natural principle of the mind, and implies 
 the existence of certain original sources of pleasure 
 and uneasiness. 
 
 A mode of dress, which at first appeared awk- 
 ward, acquires, in a few weeks or months, the ap- 
 pearance of elegance. By being accustomed to see 
 it worn by those whom we consider as models of 
 Taste, it becomes associated with the agreeable im- 
 pressions which we receive from the ease and grace 
 and refinement of their manners. When it pleases 
 by itself, the effect is to be ascribed, not to the ob- 
 ject actually before us, but to the impressions with 
 which it has been generally connected, and which 
 it naturally recalls to the mind. 
 
 This observation points out the cause of the perpe- 
 tual vicissitudes in dress, and in every thing whose 
 chief recommendation arises from fashion. It is evi- 
 dent that, as far as the agreeable effect of an orna- 
 ment arises from association, the effect will continue 
 only while it is confined to the higher orders. When 
 it is adopted by the multitude, it not only ceases to 
 be associated with ideas of taste and refinement, but 
 it is associated with ideas of affectation, absurd 
 imitation, and vulgarity. It is accordingly laid 
 aside by the higher orders, who studiously avoid
 
 Part. II. 2- OF THE HUMAN MIND. #73 
 
 every circumstance in external appearance, which 
 is debased by low and common use ; and they are 
 led to exercise their invention, in the introduction of 
 some new peculiarities, which first become fashion- 
 able, then common, and last of all, are abandoned 
 as vulgar. 
 
 It has been often remarked, that after a certain 
 period in the progress of society, the public Taste 
 becomes corrupted ; and the different productions 
 of the fine arts begin to degenerate from that sim- 
 plicity, which they had attained in their state of 
 greatest perfection. One reason of this decline is 
 suggested by the foregoing observations. 
 
 From the account which has been given of the 
 natural progress of Taste, in separating the genuine 
 principles of beauty from superfluous and from offen- 
 sive concomitants, it is evident, that there is a limit, 
 beyond which the love of simplicity cannot be car- 
 ried. No bounds, indeed, can be set to the creations 
 of genius ; but as this quality occurs seldom in an 
 eminent degree, it commonly happens, that after a 
 period of great refinement of Taste, men begin to 
 gratify their love of variety, by adding superfluous 
 circumstances to the finished models exhibited by 
 their predecessors, or by making other trifling alter- 
 ations on them, with a view merely of diversifying 
 the effect. These additions and alterations, indif- 
 ferent, perhaps, or even in some degree offensive in 
 themselves, acquire soon a borrowed beauty, from 
 the connexion in which we see them, or from the 
 influence of fashion : the same cause which at first 
 produced them, continues perpetually to increase 
 their number j and Taste returns to barbarism, by
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY . Chap. V. 
 
 almost the same steps which conducted it to per- 
 fection. 
 
 The truth of these remarks will appear still more 
 striking to those who consider the wonderful effect 
 which a writer of splendid genius, but of incorrect 
 taste, has in misleading the public judgment. The 
 peculiarities of such an author are consecrated by 
 the connexion in which we see them, and even please, 
 to a certain degree, when detached from the excel- 
 lencies of his composition, by recalling to us the 
 agreeable impressions with which they have been 
 formerly associated. How many imitations have we 
 seen, of the affectations of Sterne, by men who were 
 unable to copy his beauties ? And yet these imit- 
 ations of his defects ; of his abrupt manner ; of his 
 minute specification of circumstances ; and even of 
 his dashes, produce, at first, some effect on readers 
 of sensibility, but of uncultivated taste, in conse- 
 quence of the exquisite strokes of the pathetic, and 
 the singular vein of humour, with which they are 
 united in the original. 
 
 From what has been said, it is obvious, that the 
 circumstances which please, in the objects of Taste, 
 are of two kinds : First, those which are fitted to 
 please by nature, or by associations which all man- 
 kind are led to form by their common condition ; 
 and Secondly, those which please in consequence of 
 associations arising from local and accidental cir- 
 cumstances. Hence, there are two kinds of Taste : 
 the one enabling us to judge of those beauties 
 which have a foundation in the human constitution ; 
 the other, of such objects as derive their principal 
 recommendation from the influence of fashion.
 
 Part II. $2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 3/5 
 
 These two kinds of Taste are not always united in 
 the same person : indeed, I am inclined to think, 
 that they are united but rarely. The perfection of 
 the one, depends much upon the degree in which 
 we are able to free the mind from the influence of 
 casual associations ; that of the other, on the con- 
 trary, depends on a facility of association, which 
 enables us to fall in, at once, with all the turns of 
 the fashion, and (as Shakespeare expresses it) " to 
 " catch the -tune of the times." 
 
 I shall endeavour to illustrate some of the fore- 
 going remarks, by applying them to the subject of 
 language, which affords numberless instances to 
 exemplify the influence which the association of 
 ideas has on our judgments in matters of Taste. 
 
 In the same manner in which an article of dress 
 acquired an appearance of elegance or of vulgarity 
 from the persons by whom it is habitually worn ; so 
 a particular mode of pronunciation acquires an air 
 of fashion or of rusticity, from the persons by whom 
 it is habitually employed. The Scotch accent is 
 surely in itself as good as the English ; and with a 
 few exceptions, is as agreeable to the ear : and yet 
 how offensive does it appear, even to us, who have 
 been accustomed to hear it from our infancy, when 
 compared with that which is used by our southern 
 neighbours ! No reason can be given for this, but 
 that the capital of Scotland is now become a pro- 
 vincial town, and London is the seat of our court. 
 
 The distinction which is to be found, in the lan- 
 guages of all civilised nations, between low and 
 polite modes of expression, arises fromsimilar causes. 
 It is, indeed, amusing to remark, the solicitude with 
 B B 4
 
 876 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 which the higher orders, in the monarchies of 
 modern Europe, avoid every circumstance in their 
 exterior appearance and manner, which, by the most 
 remote association, may, in the minds of others, con- 
 nect them with the idea of the multitude. Their 
 whole dress and deportment and conversation are 
 studiously arranged to convey an imposing notion 
 of their consequence ; and to recal to the spectator, 
 by numberless slight and apparently unintentional 
 hints, the agreeable impressions which are associated 
 with the advantages of fortune. 
 
 To this influence of association on language, it 
 is necessary for every writer to attend carefully, who 
 wishes to express himself with elegance. For the 
 attainment of correctness and purity in the use of 
 words, the rules of grammarians and of critics may 
 be a sufficient guide ; but it is not in the works of 
 this class of authors, that the higher beauties of style 
 are to be studied. As the air and manner of a gen- 
 tleman can be acquired only by living habitually in 
 the best society, so grace in composition must be 
 attained by an habitual acquaintance with classical 
 writers. It is indeed necessary for our information, 
 that we should peruse occasionally, many books 
 which have no merit in point of expression ; but 
 1 believe it to be extremely useful to all literary 
 men, to counteract the effect of this miscellaneous 
 reading, by maintaining a constant and familiar ac- 
 quaintance with a few of the most faultless models 
 which the language affords. For want of some 
 standard of this sort, we frequently see an author's 
 taste in writing alter much to the worse in the 
 course of his life j and his later productions fall be-
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 377 
 
 low the level of his early essays. D* Alembert tells 
 us, that Voltaire had always lying on his table, the 
 Petit Careme of Massillon, and the tragedies of 
 Racine ; the former to fix his taste in prose com- 
 position, and the latter in poetry. 
 
 In avoiding, however, expressions which are de- 
 based by vulgar use, there is a danger of running into 
 the other extreme, in quest of fashionable words and 
 phrases. Such an affectation may, for a few years, 
 gratify the vanity of an author, by giving him the 
 air of a man of the world ; but the reputation it be- 
 stows, is of a very transitory nature. The works 
 which continue to please from age to age, are writ- 
 ten with perfect simplicity ; while those which cap- 
 tivate the multitude by a display of meretricious 
 ornaments, if, by chance, they should survive the 
 fashions to which they are accommodated, remain 
 only to furnish a subject of ridicule to posterity. 
 The portrait of a beautiful woman, in the fashion- 
 able dress of the day, may please at the moment it 
 is painted ; nay, may perhaps please more than in 
 any that the fancy of the artist could have sug- 
 gested ; but it is only in the plainest and simplest 
 drapery, that the most perfect form can be trans- 
 mitted with advantage to future times. 
 
 The exceptions which the history of literature 
 seems to furnish to these observations, are only ap- 
 parent. That, in the works of our best authors, 
 there are many beauties which have long and gene- 
 rally been admired, and which yet owe their whole 
 effect to association, cannot be disputed; but in 
 such cases, it will always be found, that the 
 associations which are the foundation of our
 
 378 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 pleasure, have, in consequence of some peculiar 
 combination of circumstances, been more widely 
 diffused, and more permanently established among 
 mankind, than those which date their origin from 
 the caprices of our own age are ever likely to 
 be. An admiration for the classical remains of 
 antiquity is, at present, not less general in Europe, 
 than the advantages of a liberal education : and 
 such is the effect of this admiration, that there 
 are certain caprices of Taste, from which no man 
 who is well educated is entirely free. A com- 
 position in a modern language, which should some- 
 times depart from the ordinary modes of expres- 
 sion, from an affectation of the idioms which are 
 consecrated in the classics, would please a very 
 wide circle of readers, in consequence of the preva- 
 lence of classical associations ; and, therefore, such 
 affectations, however absurd, when carried to a 
 degree of singularity, are of a far superior class to 
 those which are adapted to the fashions of the day. 
 But still the general principle holds true, That what- 
 ever beauties derive their original merely from 
 casual association, must appear capricious to those 
 to whom the association does not extend ; and that 
 the simplest style is that which continues longest to 
 please, and which pleases most universally. In the 
 writings of Mr. Harris, there is a certain classical 
 air, which will always have many admirers, while 
 ancient learning continues to be cultivated ; but 
 which, to a mere English reader, appears somewhat 
 unnatural and ungraceful, when compared with the 
 composition of Swift or of Addison. 
 
 The analogy of the arts of statuary and paint-
 
 Part II. 2. F THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 ing, may be of use in illustrating these remarks. 
 The influence of ancient times has extended to these, 
 as well as to the art of writing j and in this case, no 
 less than in the other, the transcendent power of 
 genius has established a propriety of choice in 
 matters of indifference, and has, perhaps, conse- 
 crated in the opinion of mankind, some of its own 
 caprices. 
 
 " Many of the ornaments of art," (says Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds,) " those at least for which no reason can 
 " be given, are transmitted to us, are adopted, and 
 " acquire their consequence, from the company in 
 " which we have been used to see them. As Greece 
 " and Rome are the fountains from whence have 
 " flowed all kinds of excellence, to that veneration 
 " which they have a right to claim for the pleasure 
 " and knowledge which they have afforded us, we 
 " voluntarily add our approbation of every orna- 
 " ment and every custom that belonged to them, 
 ' even to the fashion of their dress. For it may be 
 " observed, that, not satisfied with them in their 
 " own place, we make no difficulty of dressing 
 " statues of modern heroes or senators in the fashion 
 " of the Roman armour, or peaceful robe ; and even 
 " go so far as hardly to bear a statue in any other 
 " drapery. 
 
 " The figures of the great men of those nations 
 " have come down to us in sculpture. In sculpture 
 " remain almost all the excellent specimens of 
 " ancient art. We have so far associated personal 
 " dignity to the persons thus represented, and the 
 " truth of art to their manner of representation, 
 " that it is not in our power any longer to separate
 
 380 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " them. This is not so in painting : because, having 
 " no excellent ancient portraits, that connexion was 
 " never formed. Indeed, we could no more ven- 
 " ture to paint a general officer in a Roman military 
 " habit, than we could make a statue in the present 
 " uniform. But since we have no ancient portraits, 
 " to shew how ready we are to adopt those kind of 
 " prejudices, we make the best authority among the 
 " moderns serve the same purpose. The great 
 " variety of excellent portraits with which Vandyke 
 " has enriched this nation, we are not content to 
 " admire for their real excellence, but extend our 
 " approbation even to the dress which happened to 
 " be the fashion of that age. By this means, it 
 " must "be acknowledged, very ordinary pictures 
 " acquired something of the air and effect of the 
 " works of Vandyke, and appeared therefore, at 
 " first sight, better pictures than they really were. 
 " They appeared so, however, to those only who had 
 " the means of making this association." * 
 
 The influence of association on our notions con- 
 cerning language, is still more strongly exemplified 
 in poetry than in prose. As it is one great object 
 of the poet, in his serious productions, to elevate the 
 imagination of his readers above the grossness of 
 sensible objects, and the vulgarity of common life, 
 it becomes peculiarly necessary for him to reject the 
 use of all words and phrases which are trivial and 
 hackneyed. Among those which are equally pure 
 and equally perspicuous, he, in general, finds it ex- 
 pedient to adopt that which is the least common. 
 
 * REYNOJLDS'S Discourses, p. 313, et seq.
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 381 
 
 Milton prefers the words Rhene and Danaw, to the 
 more common words Rhine and Danube: 
 
 " A multitude, like which the populous North 
 " Pour'd never from his frozen loins, to pass 
 " Rhene or the Danaw." * 
 
 In the following line, 
 
 " Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme," 
 
 how much more suitable to the poetical style does 
 the expression appear, than if the author had said, 
 
 " Things unattempted yet in prose or verse." 
 In another passage, where, for the sake of variety, 
 he has made use of the last phrase, he adds an 
 epithet, to remove it a little from the familiarity of 
 ordinary discourse, 
 
 '* in prose or numerous verse." -f- 
 
 In consequence of this circumstance, there arises 
 gradually in every language a poetical diction, which 
 differs widely from the common diction of prose. 
 It is much less subject to the vicissitudes of fashion, 
 than the polite modes of expression in familiar con- 
 versation ; because, when it has once been adopted 
 by the poet, it is avoided by good prose- writers, as 
 being too elevated for that species of composition. 
 It may therefore retain its charm, as long as the 
 language exists ; nay, the charm may increase, as 
 the language grows older. 
 
 Indeed, the charm of poetical diction must in- 
 crease to a certain degree, as polite literature ad- 
 vances. For when once a set of words has been 
 
 * Paradise Lost, booki. 1.351. 
 
 f Paradise Lost, book i. 1. 150. See NEWTON'S Edit. 
 
 4
 
 382 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 consecrated to poetry, the very sound of them, in- 
 dependently of the ideas they convey, awakens, 
 every time we hear it, the agreeable impressions 
 which were connected with it when we met with 
 them in the performances of our favourite authors. 
 Even when strung together in sentences which con- 
 vey no meaning, they produce some effect on the 
 mind of a reader of sensibility : an effect, at least, 
 extremely different from that of an unmeaning 
 sentence in prose. 
 
 Languages differ from each other widely in the co- 
 piousness of their poetical diction. Our own pos- 
 sesses, in this respect, important advantages over the 
 French : not that, in this language, there are no 
 words appropriated to poetry, but because their num- 
 ber is, comparatively speaking, extremely limited. 
 
 The scantiness of the French poetical diction is, 
 probably, attended with the lessin convenience, that 
 the phrases which occur in good prose-writing are 
 less degraded by vulgar application than in English, 
 in consequence of the line being more distinctly and 
 more strongly drawn between polite and low ex- 
 pressions in that language than in ours. Our poets, 
 indeed, by having a language appropriated to their 
 own purposes, nqt only can preserve dignity of ex- 
 pression, but can connect with the perusal of their 
 compositions, ^the pleasing impressions which have 
 been produced by those of their predecessors. And 
 hence, in the higher sorts of poetry, where their ob- 
 ject is to kindle, as much as possible, the enthusiasm 
 of their readers, they not only avoid, studiously, all 
 expressions which are vulgar, but all such as are 
 borrowed from fashionable life. This certainly
 
 Part II. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 383 
 
 cannot be done in an equal degree by a poet who 
 writes in the French language. 
 
 In English, the poetical diction is so extremely 
 copious, that it is liable to be abused ; as it puts it 
 in the power of authors of no genius, merely by 
 ringing changes on the poetical vocabulary, to give 
 a certain degree of currency to the most unmeaning 
 compositions. In Pope's Song by a Person of 
 Quality, the incoherence of ideas is scarcely greater 
 than what is to be found in some admired passages 
 of our fashionable poetry. 
 
 Nor is it merely by a difference of words, that the 
 languageof poetry is distinguished from thatof prose. 
 When a poetical arrangement of words has once been 
 established by authors of reputation, the most com- 
 mon expressions, by being presented in this conse- 
 crated order, may serve to excite poetical asso- 
 ciations. 
 
 On the other hand, nothing more completely de- 
 stroys the charm of poetry, than a string of words 
 which the custom of ordinary discourse has arranged 
 in so invariable an order, that the whole phrase may 
 be anticipated from hearing its commencement. A 
 single word frequently strikes us as flat and prosaic, 
 in consequence of its familiarity; but two such 
 words coupled together in the order of conversation, 
 can scarcely be introduced into serious poetry 
 without appearing ludicrous. 
 
 No poet in our language has shewn so strikingly 
 as Milton, the wonderful elevation which style may 
 derive from an arrangement of words, which, while 
 it is perfectly intelligible, departs widely from that 
 to which we are in general accustomed. Many of 
 1
 
 384 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 his most sublime periods, when the order of the words 
 is altered, are reduced nearly to the level of prose. 
 
 To copy this artifice with success, is a much more 
 difficult attainment than is commonly imagined ; 
 and, of consequence, when it is acquired, it secures 
 an author, to a great degree, from that crowd of 
 imitators who spoil the effect of whatever is not be- 
 yond their reach. To the poet who uses blank verse, 
 it is an acquisition of still more essential consequence 
 than to him who expresses himself in rhyme ; for 
 the more that the structure of the verse approaches 
 to prose, the more it is necessary to give novelty and 
 dignity to the composition. And accordingly, among 
 our magazine poets, ten thousand catch the struc- 
 ture of Pope's versification, for one who approaches 
 to the manner of Milton, or of Thomson. 
 
 The facility, however, of this imitation, like every 
 other, increases with the number of those who have 
 studied it with success ; for the more numerous the 
 authors who have employed their genius in any one 
 direction, the more copious are the materials out of 
 which mediocrity may select and combine, so as to 
 escape the charge of plagiarism. And, in fact, in 
 our own language, this, as well as the other great 
 resource of poetical expression, the employment of 
 appropriated words, has had its eftect so much im- 
 paired by the abuse which has been made of it, that 
 a few of our best poets of late have endeavoured to 
 strike out a new path for themselves, by resting the 
 elevation for their composition chiefly on a singular, 
 and, to an ordinary writer, an unattainable union of 
 harmonious versification, with a natural arrange- 
 ment of words, and a simple elegance of expression.
 
 Part II. 2. O p THE HUMAN MIND. S85 
 
 It is this union which seems to form the distin- 
 guishing charm of the poetry of Goldsmith. 
 
 From the remarks which have been made on the 
 influence of the association of ideas on our judg- 
 ments in matters of Taste, it is obvious how much 
 the opinions of a nation with respect to merit in the 
 fine arts, are likely to be influenced by the form of 
 their government, and the state of their manners. 
 Voltaire, in his discourse pronounced at his re- 
 ception into the French academy, gives several 
 reasons why the poets of that country have not suc- 
 ceeded in describing rural scenes and employments. 
 The principal one is, the ideas of meanness, and 
 poverty, and wretchedness, which the French are 
 accustomed to associate with the profession of 
 husbandry. The same thing is alluded to by the 
 Abbe de Lille, in the preliminary discourse prefixed 
 to his translation of the Georgics. " A translation," 
 " says he, " of this poem, if it had been under- 
 " taken by an author of genius, would have been 
 " better calculated than any other work, for adding 
 " to the riches of our language. A version of the 
 " -ZEneid itself, however well executed, would, in 
 " this respect, be of less utility j inasmuch as the 
 " genius of our tongue accommodates itself more 
 " easily to the description of heroic achievements, 
 " than to the details of natural phenomena, and of 
 " the operations of husbandry. To force it to ex- 
 " press these with suitable dignity, would have been 
 " a real conquest over that false delicacy, which it 
 " has contracted from our unfortunate prejudices." 
 
 How different must have been the emotions with 
 which this divine performance of Virgil was read by 
 
 c c
 
 386 ELEMENTS DF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 an ancient Roman, while he recollected that period 
 in the history of his country, when dictators were 
 called from the plough to the defence of the state, 
 and after having led monarchs in triumph, returned 
 again to the same happy and independent occupa- 
 tion. A state of manners to which a Roman author 
 of a later age looked back with such enthusiasm, 
 that he ascribes, by a bold poetical figure, the 
 flourishing state of agriculture under the republic, 
 to the grateful returns which the earth then made 
 to the illustrious hands by which she was cultivated. 
 " Gaudente terra vomere laureate, et triumphali 
 " aratore." * 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of the Influence of Association on our active Principles^ and on 
 our moral Judgments. 
 
 IN order to illustrate a little farther, the influence 
 of the Association of Ideas on the human mind, I 
 shall add a few remarks on some of its effects on 
 our active and moral principles,, In stating these 
 remarks, I shall endeavour to avoid, as much as 
 possible, every occasion of controversy, by con- 
 fining myself to such general views of the subject, 
 as do not presuppose any particular enumeration of 
 our original principles of action, or any particular 
 system concerning the nature of the moral faculty. 
 If my health and leisure enable me to, carry my 
 plans into execution, I propose, in the sequel of this 
 
 * PLIN. Nat. Hist, xviii. 4.
 
 Part II. 3. OF THB HUMAN MIND. 387 
 
 work, to resume these inquiries, and to examine the 
 various opinions to which they have given rise. 
 
 The manner in which the association of ideas 
 operates in producing new principles of action, has 
 been explained very distinctly by different writers. 
 Whatever conduces to the gratification of any na- 
 tural appetite, or of any natural desire, is itself de- 
 sired on account of the end to which it is subser- 
 vient ; and by being thus habitually associated in 
 our apprehension with agreeable objects, it fre- 
 quently comes, in process of time, to be regarded 
 as valuable in itself, independently of its utility. It 
 is thus that wealth becomes, with many, an ultimate 
 object of pursuit; although, at first, it is un- 
 doubtedly valued, merely on account of its subser- 
 viency to the attainment of other objects. In like 
 manner, men are led to desire dress, equipage, re- 
 tinue, furniture, on account of the estimation in 
 which they are supposed to be held by the public. 
 Such desires are called by Dr. Hutcheson * secondary 
 desires : and their origin is explained by him in the 
 way which I have mentioned. "Since we are capable," 
 says he, " of reflection, memory, observation, and 
 " reasoning about the distant tendencies of objects 
 " and actions, and not confined to things present, 
 " there must arise, in consequence of our original 
 " desires, secondary desires of every thing ima- 
 < gined useful to gratify any of the primary desires ; 
 *' and that with strength proportioned to the several 
 " original desires, and imagined usefulness or ne- 
 < ( cessity of the advantageous object." " Thus," 
 
 * See hi& Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. 
 C C 2 
 
 \
 
 388 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 lie continues, " as soon as we come to apprehend 
 " the use of wealth or power to gratify any of our 
 " original desires, we must also desire them ; and 
 " hence arises the universality of these desires of 
 " wealth and power, since they are the means of 
 " gratifying all other desires." The only thing 
 that appears to me exceptionable in the fore- 
 going passage is, that the author classes the desire 
 of power with that of wealth ; whereas I apprehend 
 it to be clear, (for reasons which I shall state in 
 another part of this work,) that the former is a 
 primary desire, and the latter a secondary one. 
 
 Our moral judgments, too, may be modified, and 
 even perverted, to a certain degree, in consequence 
 of the operation of the same principle. In the same 
 manner in which a person who is regarded as a 
 model of taste may introduce, by his example, an 
 absurd or fantastical dress ; so a man of splendid 
 virtues may attract some esteem also to his imper- 
 fections ; and, if placed in a conspicuous situation, 
 may render his vices and follies objects of general 
 imitation among the multitude. 
 
 " In the reign of Charles II." says Mr. Smith % 
 " a degree of licentiousness was deemed the charac- 
 " teristic of a liberal education. It was connected, 
 " according to the notions of those times, with 
 " generosity, sincerity, magnanimity, loyalty j and 
 " proved that the person who acted in this manner, 
 " was a gentleman, and not a puritan. Severity of 
 " manners, and regularity of conduct, on the other 
 " hand, were altogether unfashionable, and were 
 
 * Theory of Moral Sentiments.
 
 Part II. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 389 
 
 " connected, in the imagination of that age, with 
 " cant, cunning, hypocrisy, and low manners. To 
 " superficial minds, the vices of the great seem at 
 " all times agreeable. They connect them, not only 
 " with the splendour of fortune, but with many 
 " superior virtues which they ascribe to their sti- 
 " periors; with the spirit of freedom and indepen- 
 " dency ; with frankness, generosity, humanity, and 
 " politeness. The virtues of the inferior ranks of 
 " people, on the contrary, their parsimonious fru- 
 " gality, their painful industry, and rigid adherence 
 " to rules, seem to them mean and disagreeable. 
 <; They connect them both with the meanness of 
 " the station to which these qualities commonly 
 " belong, and with many great vices which they 
 " suppose usually accompany them ; such as an 
 " abject, cowardly, ill-natured, lying, pilfering 
 " disposition." 
 
 The theory which, in the foregoing passages 
 from Hutcheson and Smith, is employed so justly 
 and philosophically to explain the origin of our se- 
 condary desires, and to account for some perversions 
 of our moral judgments, has been thought sufficient, 
 by some later writers, to account for the origin of 
 all our active principles without exception. The 
 first of these attempts to extend so very far the ap- 
 plication of the doctrine of Association was made 
 by the Reverend Mr. Gay, in a dissertation " con- 
 " cerning the fundamental Principle of Virtue," 
 which is prefixed by Dr. Law to his translation of 
 Archbishop King's Essay " on the Origin of Evil." 
 In this dissertation, the author endeavours to shew, 
 " that our approbation of morality, and all affections 
 
 c c 3
 
 390 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Cfiap.V. 
 
 " whatsoever, are finally resolvable into reason, 
 " pointing out private happiness, and are conver- 
 " sant only about things apprehended to be means 
 " tending to this end ; and that wherever this end 
 " is not perceived, they are to be accounted for 
 " from the association of ideas, and may properly 
 " be called habits" The same principles have been 
 since pushed to a much greater length by Dr. 
 Hartley, whose system (as he himself informs us) 
 took ,rise from his accidentally hearing it mentioned 
 as an opinion of Mr. Gay, " that the association of 
 ideas was sufficient to account for all our intellec- 
 tual pleasures and pains."* 
 
 It must, I think, in justice, be acknowledged, 
 that this theory, concerning the origin of our af- 
 fections, and of the moral sense, is a most ingenious- 
 refinement upon the selfish system, as it was for- 
 merly taught j and that, by means of it, the force of 
 many of the common reasonings against that sys- 
 tem is eluded. Among these reasonings, particular 
 stress has always been laid on the instantaneousness 
 with which our affections operate, and the moral 
 sense approves or condemns; and on our total 
 want of consciousness, in such cases, of any refer- 
 ence to our own happiness. The modem advocates 
 for the selfish system admit the fact to be as it is 
 
 * Mr. Hume too, who, in my opinion, has carried this prin- 
 ciple of the Association of Ideas a great deal too far, has com- 
 pared the universality of its applications in the philosophy of 
 mind, to that of the principle of attraction in physics. " Here," 
 says he, " is a kind of attraction, which in the mental world 
 ' will be found to have as extraordinary effects as in the natural, 
 " and to shew itself in as many and as various forms." Treat, 
 of Hum. Nat. vol. i. p. 30.
 
 Part II. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 391 
 
 stated by their opponents ; and grant, that after the 
 moral sense and our various affections are formed, 
 their exercise, in particular cases, may become 
 completely disinterested; but still they contend, 
 that it is upon a regard to our own happiness that 
 all these principles are originally grafted. The 
 analogy of avarice will serve to illustrate the scope 
 of this theory. It cannot be doubted that this 
 principle of action is artificial. It is on account of 
 the enjoyments which it enables us to purchase, 
 that money is originally desired j and yet, in pro- 
 cess of time, by means of the agreeable impressions 
 which are associated with it, it comes to be desired 
 for its own sake j and even continues to be an ob- 
 ject of our pursuit, long after we have lost all relish 
 for those enjoyments which it enables us to corn? 
 in and. 
 
 Without meaning to engage in any controversy 
 on the subject, I shall content myself with observ- 
 ing, in general, that there must be some limit, be- 
 yond which the theory of association cannot pos- 
 sibly be carried ; for the explanation which it gives, 
 of the formation of new principles of action, pro- 
 ceeds on the supposition that there are other prin- 
 ciples previously existing in the mind. The great 
 question then is, when we are arrived at this limit j 
 or, in other words, when we are arrived at the 
 simple and original laws of our constitution. 
 
 In conducting this inquiry, philosophers have 
 been apt to go into extremes. Lord Kaimes, and 
 some other authors, have been censured, and per- 
 haps justly, for a disposition to multiply original 
 principles to an unnecessary degree. It may be 
 
 c c 4
 
 892 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 questioned, whether Dr. Hartley, and his followers, 
 have not sometimes been misled by too eager a de- 
 sire of 'abridging their number. 
 
 Of these two errors, the former is the least com- 
 mon, and the least dangerous. It is the least com- 
 mon, because it is not so flattering as the other to 
 the vanity of a theorist ; and it is the least danger- 
 ous, because it has no tendency, like the other, to 
 give rise to a suppression, or to a misrepresentation 
 of facts ; or to retard the progress of the science, by 
 bestowing upon it an appearance of systematical 
 perfection, to which, in its present state, it is not 
 entitled. 
 
 Abstracting, however, from these inconveniences, 
 which must always result from a precipitate refer- 
 ence of phenomena to general principles, it does not 
 seem to me, that the theory in question has any 
 tendency to weaken the foundation of morals. It 
 has, indeed, some tendency, in common with the 
 philosophy of Hobbes and of Mandeville, to degrade 
 the dignity of human nature; but it leads to no scep- 
 tical conclusions concerning the rule of life. For, 
 although we were to grant, that all our principles 
 of action are acquired ; so striking a difference 
 among them must still be admitted, as is sufficient 
 to distinguish clearly those universal laws which 
 were intended to regulate human conduct, from the 
 local habits which are formed by education and 
 fashion. It must still be admitted, that while some 
 active principles are confined to particular indivi- 
 duals, or to particular tribes of men, there are 
 others, which, arising from circumstances in which 
 all the situations of mankind must agree, are com-
 
 Part II. 3. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 3Q3 
 
 mon to the whole species. Such active principles 
 as fall under this last description, at whatever pe- 
 riod of life they may appear, are to be regarded as a 
 part of human nature, no less than the instinct of 
 suction ; in the same manner as the acquired per- 
 ception of distance by the eye, is to be ranked 
 among the perceptive powers of man, no less than 
 the original perceptions of any of our other senses. 
 
 Leaving, therefore, the question concerning the 
 origin of our active principles, and of the moral 
 faculty, to be the subject of future discussion, I 
 shall conclude this Section with a few remarks of a 
 more practical nature. 
 
 It has been shewn by different writers, how much 
 of the beauty and sublimity of material objects arise 
 from the ideas and feelings which we have been 
 taught to associate with them. The impression pro- 
 duced on the external senses of a poet, by the most 
 striking scene in nature, is precisely the same with 
 what is produced on the senses of a peasant or a 
 tradesman : yet how different is the degree of plea- 
 sure resulting from this impression ! A great part of 
 this difference is undoubtedly to be ascribed, to the 
 ideas and feelings which the habitual studies and 
 amusements of the poet have associated with his 
 organical perceptions. 
 
 A similar observation may be applied to all the 
 various objects of our pursuit in life. Hardly any 
 one of them is appreciated by any two men in the 
 same manner ; ana 1 frequently what one man con- 
 siders as essential to his happiness, is regarded with 
 indifference or dislike by another. Of these dif- 
 ferences of opinion, much is, no doubt, to be as-
 
 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 cribed to a diversity of constitution, which renders 
 a particular employment of the intellectual or active 
 powers agreeable to one man, which is not equally 
 so to another. But much is also to be ascribed to 
 the effect of association ; which, prior to any ex- 
 perience of human life, connects pleasing ideas and 
 pleasing feelings with different objects, in the minds 
 of different persons. 
 
 In consequence of these associations, every man 
 appears to his neighbour to pursue the object of his 
 wishes, with a zeal disproportioned to its intrinsic 
 value ; and the philosopher (whose principal enjoy- 
 ment arises from speculation) is frequently apt to 
 smile at the ardour with which the active part of 
 mankind pursue, what appear to him to be mere 
 shadows. This view of human affairs, some writers 
 have carried so far, as to represent life as a scene 
 of mere illusions, where the mind refers to the ob- 
 jects around it, a colouring which exists only in 
 itself j and where, as the Poet expresses it, 
 
 " Opinion gilds with varying rays, 
 " Those painted clouds which beautify our days." 
 
 It may be questioned, if these representations of 
 human life be useful or just. That the casual asso- 
 ciations which the mind forms in childhood, and in 
 early youth, are frequently a source of incon- 
 venience and of misconduct, is sufficiently obvious ; 
 but that this tendency of our nature increases, on 
 the whole, the sum of human enjoyment, appears to 
 me to be indisputable j and the instances in which 
 it misleads us from our duty and our happiness, only 
 prove, to what important ends it might be subser- 
 vient, if it were kept under proper regulation.
 
 Part II. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 Nor do these representations of life (admitting 
 them in their full extent) justify the practical in- 
 ferences which have been often deduced from them, 
 with respect to the vanity of our pursuits. In every 
 case, indeed, in which our enjoyment depends upon 
 association, it may be said, in one sense, that it 
 arises from the mind itself; but it does not there- 
 fore follow, that the external object which custom 
 has rendered the cause or the occasion of agreeable 
 emotions, is indifferent to our happiness. The effect 
 which the beauties of nature produce on the mind 
 of the poet, is wonderfully heightened by association ; 
 but his enjoyment is not, on that account, the less 
 exquisite : nor are the objects of his admiration of 
 the less value to his happiness, that, they derive 
 their principal charms from the embellishments of 
 his fancy. 
 
 It is the business of education, not to counteract, 
 in any instance, the established laws of our con- 
 stitution, but to direct them to their proper pur- 
 poses. That the influence of early associations on 
 the mind might be employed, in the most effectual 
 manner, to aid our moral principles, appears evi- 
 dently from the effects which we daily see it produce, 
 in reconciling men to a course of action which their 
 reason forces them to condemn ; and it is no less 
 obvious that, by means of it, the happiness of 
 human life might be increased, and its pains dimi- 
 nished, if the agreeable ideas and feelings which 
 children are so apt to connect with events and with 
 situations which depend on the caprice of fortune, 
 were firmly associated in their apprehensions with 
 the duties of their stations, with the pursuits of
 
 396 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 science, and with those beauties of nature which 
 are open to all. 
 
 These observations coincide nearly with the an- 
 cient stoical doctrine concerning the influence of 
 imagination * on morals ; a subject, on which many 
 important remarks, (though expressed in a form 
 different from that which modern philosophers have 
 introduced, and, perhaps, not altogether so precise 
 and accurate,) are to be found in the Discourses of 
 Epictetus, and in the Meditations of Antoninus t. 
 This doctrine of the Stoical school, Dr. Akenside 
 has in view in the following passage : 
 
 " Action treads the path 
 ' In which Opinion says he follows good, 
 Or flies from evil ; and Opinion gives 
 ' Report of good or evil, as the scene 
 Was drawn by fancy, lovely or deform'd : 
 
 * Thus her report can never there be true, 
 ' Where fancy cheats the intellectual eye 
 ' With glaring colours and distorted lines. 
 
 Is there a man, who at the sound of death 
 
 Sees ghastly shapes of terror conjur'd up, 
 
 And black before him : nought but death-bed groans 
 
 * And fearful prayers, and plunging from the brink 
 " Of light and being, down the gloomy air, 
 
 ' An unknown depth ? Alas ! in such a mind, 
 " If no bright forms of excellence attend 
 " The image of his country ; nor the pomp 
 " Of sacred senates, nor the guardian voice 
 
 * According to the use which I make of the words Imagina- 
 tion and Association, in this work, their effects are obviously 
 distinguishable. I have thought it proper, however, to illustrate 
 the difference between them a little more fully in Note [R]. 
 
 f See what Epictetus has remarked on the xp; ota ^r<pvTa- 
 
 ffit>9. ( Arrian, 1. i. C. 12.) 'O<* avsroXXaxtj $ara<r6r)c, voutVT* aoi 
 
 ^tja Tfc-v roHtrw <Pa.yra.ytuv, &C. &C. Anton. 1. V.C.I 6
 
 Part II. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 397 
 
 ' Of justice on her throne, nor aught that wakes 
 
 ' The conscious bosom with a patriot's flame : 
 
 ' Will not Opinion tell him, that to die, 
 
 * Or stand the hazard, is a greater ill 
 
 * Than to betray his country ? And in act 
 
 " Will he not chuse to be a wretch and live ? 
 " Here vice begins then." * 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 General Remarks on the Subjects treated in the foregoing 
 Sections of this Chapter. 
 
 IN perusing the foregoing Sections of this Chapter, 
 I am aware, that some of my readers may be apt to 
 think that many of the observations which I have 
 made, might easily be resolved into more general 
 principles. I am also aware, that, to the followers 
 of Dr. Hartley, a similar objection will occur against 
 all the other parts of this work ; and that it will 
 appear to them the effect of inexcusable prejudice, 
 that I should stop short so frequently in the ex- 
 planation of phenomena j when he has accounted 
 in so satisfactory a manner, by means of the asso- 
 ciation of ideas, for all the appearances which hu- 
 man nature exhibits. 
 
 To this objection, I shall not feel myself much 
 interested to reply, provided it be granted that my 
 observations are candidly and accurately stated, so 
 far as they reach. Supposing that in some cases 
 I may have stopped short too soon, my specu- 
 lations, although they may be censured as imperfect, 
 cannot be considered as standing in opposition to 
 the conclusions of more successful inquirers. 
 
 * Pleasures of Imagination, b. iii.
 
 398 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 May I be allowed farther to observe, that such 
 views of the human mind as are contained in this 
 work, (even supposing the objection to be well 
 founded,) are, in my opinion, indispensably neces- 
 sary, in order to prepare the way for those very 
 general and comprehensive theories concerning it, 
 which some eminent writers of the present age 
 have been ambitious to form ? 
 
 Concerning the merit of these theories, I shall 
 not presume to give any judgment. I shall only 
 remark, that, in all the other sciences, the progress 
 of discovery has been gradual, from the less general 
 to the more general laws of nature ; and that it 
 would be singular, indeed, if, in the Philosophy of 
 the Human Mind, a science, which but a few years 
 ago was confessedly in its infancy, and which cer- 
 tainly labours under many disadvantages peculiar 
 to itself, a step should, all at once, be made to a 
 single principle comprehending all the particular 
 phenomena which we know. 
 
 Supposing such a theory to be completely esta- 
 blished, it would still be proper to lead the minds 
 of students to it by gradual steps. One of the most 
 important uses of theory, is to give the memory a 
 permanent hold, and a prompt command, of the 
 particular facts which we were previously acquaint- 
 ed with 5 and no theory can be completely under- 
 stood, unless the mind be led to it nearly in the 
 order of investigation. 
 
 It is more particularly useful, in conducting the 
 studies of others, to familiarise their mkids, as 
 completely as possible, with those laws of nature 
 for which we have the direct evidence of sense, or
 
 Part U.: 4. op THE HUMAN MIND. , 399 
 
 of consciousness, before directing their inquiries 
 to the more abstruse and refined generalizations 
 of speculative curiosity. In natural philosophy, 
 supposing the theory of Boscovich to be true, it 
 would still be proper, or rather indeed absolutely 
 necessary, to accustom students, in the first stage 
 of their physical education, to dwell on those 
 general physical facts which fall under our actual 
 observation, and about which all the practical arts 
 of life are conversant. In like manner, in the phi- 
 losophy of mind, there are many general facts for 
 which we have the direct evidence of conscious- 
 ness. The words, Attention, Conception, Me- 
 mory, Abstraction, Imagination, Curiosity, Am- 
 bition, Compassion, Resentment, express powers 
 and principles of our nature, which every man may 
 study by reflecting on his own internal operations. 
 Words corresponding to these, are to be found in 
 all languages, and may be considered as forming 
 the first attempt towards a philosophical classifi- 
 cation of intellectual and moral phenomena. Such 
 a classification however imperfect and indistinct, 
 we may be assured, must have some foundation 
 in nature ; and it is at least prudent, for a philo- 
 sopher to keep it in view as the ground-work of 
 his own arrangement. It not only directs our 
 attention to those facts in the human constitution, 
 on which every solid theory in this branch of 
 science must be founded ; but to the facts, which, 
 in all ages have appeared, to the common sense of 
 mankind, to be the most striking and important ; 
 and of which it ought to be the great object of theo- 
 rists, not to supersede, but to facilitate the study. 
 12
 
 400 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap.V. 
 
 There is indeed good reason for believing, that 
 many of the facts which our consciousness would 
 Jead us to consider, upon a superficial view, as 
 ultimate facts are resolvable into other principles 
 still more general. " Long before we are capable 
 * of reflection," (says Dr. Reid,) " the original 
 " perceptions and notions of the mind are so mixed, 
 " compounded, and decompounded, by habits, as- 
 " sociations, and abstractions, that it is extremely 
 " difficult for the mind to return upon its own 
 " footsteps, and trace back those operations which 
 " have employed it since it first began to think and 
 " to act." The same author remarks, that, " if we 
 " could obtain a distinct and full history of all that 
 " hath passed in the mind of a child, from the be- 
 " ginning of life and sensation, till it grows up to 
 " the use of reason j how its infant faculties be- 
 " gan to work, and how they brought forth and 
 " ripened all the various notions, opinions, and 
 " sentiments, which we find in ourselves when we 
 " come to be capable of reflection ; this would be 
 " a treasure of Natural History, which would pro- 
 " bably give more light into the human faculties 
 " than all the systems of philosophers about them, 
 " since the beginning of the world." To accomplish 
 an analysis of these complicated phenomena into 
 the simple and original principles of our consti- 
 tution, is the great object of this branch of philo- 
 sophy j but, in order to succeed, it is necessary to 
 ascertain facts before we begin to reason, and to 
 avoid generalizing, in any instance, till we have 
 completely secured the ground that we have gained. 
 Such a caution, which is necessaryjn all the sciences,
 
 Part II. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 401 
 
 is, in a more peculiar manner, necessary here, where 
 the very facts from which all our inferences must 
 be drawn, are to be ascertained only by the most 
 patient attention ; and, where almost all of them are, 
 to a great degree, disguised ; partly by the inac- 
 curacies of popular language, and partly by the 
 mistaken theories of philosophers. 
 
 I have only to add, that, although I have retained 
 the phrase of the Association of Ideas, in compli- 
 ance with common language, I am far from being 
 completely satisfied with this mode of expression. 
 I have retained it, chiefly that I might riot expose 
 myself to the censure of delivering old doctrines in 
 a new form. 
 
 As I have endeavoured to employ it with caution, 
 I hope that it has not often misled me in my reason- 
 ings. At the same time, I am more and more con- 
 vinced of the advantages to be derived from a re- 
 formation of the cpmmon language, in most of the 
 branches of science. How much such a reformation 
 has effected in Chemistry is well known ; and it is 
 evidently much more necessary in the Philosophy of 
 Mind, where the prevailing language adds to the 
 common inaccuracies of popular expressions, the 
 peculiar disadvantage of being all suggested by the 
 analogy of matter. Often, in the composition of 
 this work, have I recollected the advice of Bergman 
 to Morveau * : ' In reforming the nomenclature of 
 
 * " Le savant Professeur d'Upsal, M. Bergman, ecrivoit a M. 
 " de Morveau dans les derniers temps de sa vie, ne faites graces 
 " a aucune denomination impropre. Ceax qui savent deja, en- 
 * tendront toujours ; ceux qui ne savent pas encore, entendront 
 " plutot." Methode de Nomenclat. Chemique, par MM. MOR- 
 YEAU, LAVOISIER, &c. 
 
 D D
 
 4O2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. V. 
 
 " chemistry, spare no word which is improper. 
 " They who understand the subject already, will 
 " suffer no inconvenience ; and they to whom the 
 " subject is new, will comprehend it with the 
 " greater facility." But it belongs to such authors 
 alone, as have extended the boundaries of science 
 by their own discoveries, to introduce innovations 
 in language with any hopes of success.
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4-03 
 
 CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 Of Memory. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 General Observations on Memory. 
 
 AMONG the various powers of the understanding, 
 there is none which has , been so attentively ex- 
 amined by philosophers, or concerning which so 
 many important facts and observations have been 
 collected, as the faculty of Memory. This is partly 
 to be ascribed to its nature, which renders it easily 
 distinguishable from all the other principles of our 
 constitution, even by those who have not been ac- 
 customed to metaphysical investigations ; and partly 
 to its immediate subserviency, not only to the pur- 
 suits of science, but to the ordinary business of life ; 
 in consequence of which, many of its most curious 
 laws had been observed, long before any analysis 
 was attempted of the other powers of the mind ; 
 and have, for many ages, formed a part of the com- 
 mon maxims which are to be found in every treatise 
 of education. Some important remarks on the 
 subject may, in particular, be collected from the 
 writings of the ancient rhetoricians. 
 
 The word Memory is not employed uniformly in 
 the same precise sense ; but it always expresses 
 some modification of that faculty, which enables us 
 to treasure up, and preserve for future use, the 
 knowledge we acquire ; a faculty which is obviously 
 
 D D 2
 
 4f04f ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 the great foundation of all intellectual improve- 
 ment, and without which, no advantage could be 
 derived from the most enlarged experience. This 
 faculty implies two things : a capacity of retaining 
 knowledge ; and a power of recalling it to our 
 thoughts when we have occasion to apply it to 
 use. The word Memory is sometimes employed to 
 express the capacity, and sometimes the power. 
 When we speak of a retentive memory, we use it in 
 the former sense ; when, of a ready memory, in tlie 
 latter. 
 
 The various particulars which compose our stock 
 of knowledge are, from time to time, recalled to our 
 thoughts, in one of two ways : sometimes they re- 
 cur to us spontaneously, or at least, without any in- 
 terference on our part ; in other cases, they are 
 recalled, in consequence of an effort of our will. 
 For the former operation of the mind, we have no 
 appropriated name in our language, distinct from 
 Memory. The latter, too, is often called by the 
 same name, but is more properly distinguished by 
 the word Recollection* 
 
 There are, I believe, some other acceptations 
 besides these, in which the word Memory has been 
 occasionally employed ; but as its ambiguities are 
 not of such a nature as to mislead us in our present 
 inquiries, I shall not dwell any longer on the illus- 
 tration of distinctions, which to the greater part of 
 readers might appear uninteresting and minute. 
 One distinction only, relative to this subject, oc- 
 curs to me, as deserving particular attention. 
 
 The operations of Memory relate either to things 
 and their relations, or to events. In the former
 
 Sect. 1. ' OF THE HUMAN MIND. 405 
 
 case, thoughts which have been previously in the 
 mind, may recur to us, without suggesting the idea 
 of the past, or of any modification of time what- 
 ever; as when I repeat over a poem which I have 
 got by heart, or when I think of the features of 
 an absent friend. In this last instance, indeed, 
 philosophers distinguish the act of the mind by the 
 name of Conception ; but in ordinary discourse, 
 and frequently even in philosophical writing, it is 
 considered as an exertion of Memory. In these 
 and similar cases, it is obvious, that the operations 
 of this faculty do not necessarily involve the idea 
 of the past. 
 
 The case is different with respect to the memory 
 of events. When I think of these, I not only 
 recal to the mind the former objects of its 
 thoughts, but I refer the event to a particular point 
 of time ; so that, of every such act of memory, the 
 idea of the past is a necessary concomitant, 
 
 I have been led to take notice of this distinction, 
 in order to obviate an objection which some of the 
 phenomena of Memory seem to present, against a 
 doctrine which I formerly stated, when treating of 
 the powers of Conception and Imagination. 
 
 It is evident, that when I think of an event, in 
 which any object of sense was concerned, my recol- 
 lection of the event must necessarily involve an act 
 of Conception. Thus, when I think of a dramatic 
 representation which I have recently seen, my re- 
 collection of what I saw, necessarily involves a con- 
 ception of the different actors by whom it was per- 
 formed. But every act of recollection which relates 
 to events, is accompanied with a belief of their 
 
 D D 3
 
 406 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 past existence. How then are we to reconcile this 
 conclusion with the doctrine formerly maintained 
 concerning Conception, according to which every 
 exertion of that power is accompanied with a be- 
 lief, that its object exists before us at the present 
 moment ? 
 
 The only way that occurs to me of removing this 
 difficulty, is by supposing, that the remembrance of 
 a past event is not a simple act of the mind ; but 
 that the mind first forms a conception of the event, 
 and then judges from circumstances, of the period 
 of time to which it is to be referred : a supposition 
 which is by no means a gratuitous one, invented to 
 answer a particular purpose ; but which, as far as I 
 am able to judge, is agreeable to fact : for if we 
 have the power, as will not be disputed, of conceiv- 
 ing a past event without any reference to time, it 
 follows, that there is nothing in the ideas or notions 
 which Memory presents to us, which is necessarily 
 accompanied with a belief of past existence, in a 
 way analogous to that in which our perceptions 
 are accompanied with a belief of the present exist- 
 ence of their objects ; and therefore, that the refer- 
 ence of the event to the particular period at which 
 it happened, is a judgment founded on concomitant 
 circumstances. So long as we are occupied with the 
 conception of any particular object connected with 
 the event, we believe the present existence of the 
 object ; but this belief which, in most cases, is only 
 momentary, is instantly corrected by habits of judg- 
 ing acquired by experience ; and as soon as the 
 mind is disengaged from sucty a belief, it is left at 
 liberty to refer the event to the period at which it
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 407 
 
 actually happened. Nor will the apparent instan- 
 taneousness of such judgments be considered ,as an 
 unsurmountable objection to the doctrine now ad- 
 vanced, by those who have reflected on the percep- 
 tion of distance obtained by sight, which, although 
 it seems to be as immediate as any perception of 
 touch, has been shewn by philosophers to be the 
 result of a judgment founded on experience and 
 observation. The reference we make of past events 
 to the particular points of time at which they took 
 place, will, I am inclined to think, the more we 
 consider the subject, be found the more strikingly 
 analogous to the estimates of distance we learn 
 to form by the eye. 
 
 Although, however, I am, myself, satisfied with 
 the conclusion to which the foregoing reasonings 
 lead, I am far from expecting that the case will be 
 the same with all my readers. Some of their ob- 
 jections, which I can easily anticipate, might, I be- 
 lieve, be obviated by a little farther discussion j but 
 as the question is merely a matter of curiosity, and 
 has no necessary connexion with the observations 
 I am to make in this Chapter, I shall not prosecute 
 the subject at present. The opinion, indeed, we 
 form concerning it, has no reference to any of the 
 doctrines maintained in this work, excepting to a 
 particular speculation concerning the belief accom- 
 panying conception, which I ventured to state, in 
 treating of that subject, and which, as it appears to 
 be extremely doubtful to some whose opinions I 
 respect, I proposed with a degree of diffidence suit- 
 able to the difficulty of such an inquiry. The re- 
 maining observations which I am to make on the 
 
 D D 4>
 
 408 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 power of memory, whatever opinion may be formed 
 of their importance, will furnish but little room for 
 a diversity of judgment concerning their truth. 
 
 In considering this part of our constitution, one 
 of the most obvious and striking questions that oc- 
 curs, is, what the circumstances are which deter- 
 mine the memory to retain some things in preference 
 to others ? Among the subjects which successively 
 occupy our thoughts, by far the greater number 
 vanish, without leaving a trace behind them ; while 
 others become, as it were, a part of ourselves, and, 
 by their accumulations, lay a foundation for our 
 perpetual progress in knowledge. Without pretend- 
 ing to exhaust the subject, I shall content myself 
 at present with a partial solution of this difficulty, 
 by illustrating the dependence of memory upon 
 two principles of our nature, with which it is plainly 
 very intimately connected ; attention, and the asso- 
 ciation of ideas. 
 
 I endeavoured in a former Chapter to shew, that 
 there is a certain act of the mind, (distinguished, 
 both by philosophers and the vulgar, by the name 
 of attention,) without which even the objects of our 
 perceptions make no impression on the memory. 
 It is also matter of common remark, that the 
 permanence of the impression which any thing 
 leaves in the memory, is proportioned to the degree 
 of attention which was originally given to it. The 
 observation has been so often repeated, and is so 
 manifestly true, that it is unnecessary to offer any 
 illustration of it.* 
 
 * It seems to be owing to this dependence of memory on at- 
 tention, that it is easier to get by heart a composition, after a 
 
 6
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 409 
 
 I have only to observe farther, with respect to at- 
 tention, considered in the relation in which it 
 stands to memory, that although it be a voluntary 
 act, it requires experience to have it always under 
 command. In the case of objects to which we have 
 been taught to attend at an early period of life, or 
 which are calculated to rouse the curiosity, or to 
 affect any of our passions, the attention fixes itself 
 upon them, as it were spontaneously, and without 
 any effort on our part, of which we are conscious. 
 How perfectly do we remember, and even retain, 
 for a long course of years, the faces and the hand- 
 writings of our acquaintances, although we never 
 took any particular pains to fix them in the me- 
 mory? On the other hand, if an object does not 
 interest some principle of our nature, we may exa- 
 mine it again and again, with a wish to treasure up 
 the knowledge of it in the mind, without our being 
 able to command that degree of attention which 
 may lead us to recognize it the next time we see it. 
 A person, for example, who has not been accustomed 
 
 very few readings with an attempt to repeat it at the end of 
 each, than after a hundred readings without such an effort. 
 The effort rouses the attention from that languid state in which . 
 it remains, while the mind is giving a passive reception to 
 foreign ideas. The fact is remarked by lord Bacon, and is ex- 
 plained by him on the same principle to which I have referred it. 
 " Quae expectantur et attentionem excitant, melius haerent 
 " quam qua? preetervolant. Itaque si scriptum aliquod vicies 
 " perlegeris, non tarn facile illud memoriter disces, quam si 
 *' illud legas decies, tentando interim illud recitare, et ubi de- 
 " ficit memoria, inspiciendo librum." 
 
 BACON, Nov. Org, lib. ii. aph. 26.
 
 4-10 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 to attend particularly to horses or to cattle, may 
 study for a considerable time the appearance of a 
 horse or of a bullock, without being able a few days 
 afterwards to pronounce on his identity ; while a 
 horse-dealer or a grazier recollects many hundreds 
 of that class of animals with which he is conversant, 
 as perfectly as he does the faces of his acquaintances. 
 In order to account for this, I would remark, that 
 although attention be a voluntary act, and although 
 we are always able, when we choose, to make a mo- 
 mentary exertion of it ; yet, unless the object to 
 which it is directed be really interesting, in some 
 degree, to the curiosity, the train of our ideas goes 
 on, and we immediately forget our purpose. When 
 we are employed, therefore, in studying such an 
 object, it is not an exclusive and steady attention 
 that we give to it, but we are losing sight of it, and 
 recurring to it every instant ; and the painful 
 efforts of which we are conscious, are not (as we 
 are apt to suppose them to be) efforts of uncommon 
 attention, but unsuccessful attempts to keep the 
 mind steady to its object, and to exclude the ex- 
 traneous ideas, which are from time to time soli- 
 citing its notice. 
 
 If these observations be well founded, they afford 
 an explanation of a fact which has been often re- 
 marked, that objects are easily remembered which 
 affect any of the passions. * The passion assists the 
 
 * " Si quas res in vita videmus parvas, usitatas, quotidianas, 
 " eas meminisse non solemus ; propterea quod nulla nisi nova 
 " aut admirabili re commovetur animus. At si quid videmus 
 " autaudimus egregieturpe, aut honestum, inusitatum, magnum> 
 " incredibile, ridiculum, id diu meminisse consuevimus." 
 
 Ad Herenn. lib. 3.
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 memory, not in consequence of any immediate con- 
 nexion between them, but as it presents, during the 
 time it continues, a steady and exclusive object to 
 the attention. 
 
 The connexion between memory and the asso- 
 ciation of ideas is so striking, that it has been sup- 
 posed by some, that the whole of its phenomena 
 might be resolved into this principle. But this is 
 evidently not the case. The association of ideas 
 connects our various thoughts with each other, so 
 as to present them to the mind in a certain order ; 
 but it presupposes the existence of these thoughts 
 in the mind ; or, in other words, it presupposes a 
 faculty of retaining the knowledge which we acquire. 
 It involves also a power of recognizing, as former 
 objects of attention, the thoughts that from time to 
 time occur to us ; a power which is not implied in 
 that law of our nature which is called the association 
 of ideas. It is possible, surely, that our thoughts 
 might have succeeded each other, according to the 
 same laws as at present, without suggesting to us at 
 all the idea of the past ; and, in fact, this suppo- 
 sition is realised to a certain degree in the case of 
 some old men, who retain pretty exactly the infor- 
 mation which they receive, but are sometimes unable 
 to recollect in what manner the particulars which 
 they find connected together in their thoughts, at 
 first came into the mind ; whether they occurred to 
 them in a dream, or were communicated to them 
 in conversation. 
 
 On the other hand, it is evident, that without the 
 associating principle, the powers of retaining our 
 thoughts, and of recognizing them when they occur 
 1
 
 412 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 to us, would have been of little use ; for the most 
 important articles of our knowledge might have re- 
 mained latent in the mind, even when those occa- 
 sions presented themselves to which they are imme- 
 diately applicable. In consequence of this law of 
 our nature, not only are all our various ideas made 
 to pass, from time to time, in review before us, and 
 to offer themselves to our choice as subjects of me- 
 ditation, but when an occasion occurs which calls 
 for the aid of our past experience, the occasion 
 itself recalls to us all the information upon the sub- 
 ject which that experience has accumulated. 
 
 The foregoing observations comprehend an 
 analysis of memory sufficiently accurate for my 
 present purpose : some other remarks, tending to 
 illustrate the same subject more completely, will 
 occur in the remaining Sections of this Chapter. 
 
 It is hardly necessary for me to add, that when we 
 have proceeded so far in our inquiries concerning 
 Memory, as to obtain an analysis of that power, and 
 to ascertain the relation in which it stands to the 
 other principles of our constitution, we have ad- 
 vanced as far towards an explanation of it as the na- 
 ture of the subject permits. The various theories 
 which have attempted to account for it by traces or 
 impressions in the sensorium, are obviously too un- 
 philosophical to deserve a particular refutation. * 
 Such, indeed, is the poverty of language, that we 
 cannot speak on the subject without employing ex- 
 pressions which suggest one theory or another ; but 
 it is of importance for us always to recollect, that 
 these expressions are entirely figurative, and afford 
 
 * See Note [S].
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4-13 
 
 no explanation of the phenomena to which they 
 refer. It is partly with a view to remind my readers 
 of this consideration, that, finding it impossible to 
 lay aside completely metaphorical or analogical 
 words, I have studied to avoid such an uniformity 
 in the employment of them, as might indicate a 
 preference to one theory rather than another ; and, 
 by doing so, have perhaps sometimes been led to 
 vary the metaphor oftener and more suddenly, than 
 would be proper in a composition which aimed at 
 any degree of elegance. This caution in the use 
 of the common language concerning memory, it 
 seemed to me the more necessary to attend to, that 
 the general disposition which every person feels at 
 the commencement of his philosophical pursuits, to 
 explain the phenomena of thought by the laws 
 of matter, is, in the case of this particular faculty, 
 encouraged by a variety of peculiar circumstances. 
 The analogy between committing a thing to memory 
 that we wish to remember, and engraving on a 
 tablet a fact that we wish to record, is so striking as 
 to present itself even to the vulgar ; nor is it per- 
 haps less natural to indulge the fancy in consider- 
 ing memory as a sort of repository, in which we 
 arrange and preserve for future use the materials of 
 our information. The immediate dependence, too, 
 of this faculty on the state of the body, which is 
 more remarkable than that of any other faculty 
 whatever, (as appears from the effects produced on 
 it by old age, disease, and intoxication,) is apt to 
 strike those who have not been much conversant 
 with these inquiries, as bestowing some plausibility 
 on the theory which attempts to explain its phe- 
 nomena on mechanical principles.
 
 414 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 I cannot help taking this opportunity of expres- 
 sing a wish, that medical writers would be at more 
 
 o 
 
 pains than they have been at hitherto, to ascertain 
 the various effects which are produced on the 
 memory by disease and old age. These effects are 
 widely diversified in different cases. In some it 
 would seem that the memory is impaired, in con- 
 sequence of a diminution of the power of attention ; 
 in others, that the power of recollection is disturbed, 
 in consequence of a derangement of that part of the 
 constitution on which the association of ideas de- 
 pends. The decay of memory, which is the com- 
 mon effect of age, seems to arise from the former 
 of these causes. It is probable, that, as we advance 
 in years, the capacity of attention is weakened by 
 some physical change in the constitution ; but it is 
 also reasonable to think, that it loses its vigour 
 partly from the effect which the decay of our sen- 
 sibility, and the extinction of our passions, have, in 
 diminishing the interest which we feel in the com- 
 mon occurrences of life. That no derangement 
 takes place, in ordinary cases, in that part of the 
 constitution on which the association of ideas de- 
 pends, appears from the distinct and circumstantial 
 recollection which old men retain of the trans- 
 actions of their youth. * In some diseases, this 
 part of the constitution is evidently affected. A 
 
 * Swift somewhere expresses his surprise, that old men should 
 remember their anecdotes so distinctly, and should, notwithstand- 
 ing, have so little memory as to tell the same story twice in the 
 course of the same conversation ; and a similar remark is made 
 by Montaigne, in one of his Essays : " Surtout les Vieillards sont
 
 
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 415 
 
 stroke of the palsy has been known, (while it did 
 not destroy the power of speech,) to render the 
 patient incapable of recollecting the names of the 
 most familiar objects. What is still more remark- 
 able, the name of an object has been known to 
 suggest the idea of it as formerly, although the 
 sight of the object ceased to suggest the name. 
 
 In so far as this decay of memory which old 
 age brings along with it, is a necessary conse- 
 quence of a physical change in the constitution, 
 or a necessary consequence of a diminution of 
 sensibility, it is the part of a wise man to submit 
 cheerfully to the lot of his nature. But it is 
 not unreasonable to think, that something may be 
 done by our own efforts, to obviate the incon- 
 veniences which commonly result from it. If in- 
 dividuals, who, in the early part of life, have weak 
 memories, are sometimes able to remedy this defect, 
 by a greater attention to arrangement in their trans- 
 actions, and to classification among their ideas, than 
 is necessary to the bulk of mankind, might it not be 
 possible in the same way, to ward off) at least to a 
 certain degree, the encroachments which time 
 makes on this faculty? The few old men who 
 continue in the active scenes of life to the last 
 moment, it has been often remarked, complain in 
 
 " dangereux, a qui la souvenance des choses passees deraeure, et 
 *' ont perdu la souvenance de leurs redites." - 
 
 Liv. i. cap. ix. (Des Menteurs.) 
 
 The fact seems to be, that all their old ideas remain in the 
 mind, connected as formerly by the different associating prin- 
 ciples ; but that the power of attention to new ideas and new 
 occurrences is impaired.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 general, much less of a want of recollection, than 
 their cotemporaries. This is undoubtedly owing 
 partly to the effect which the pursuits of business 
 must necessarily have, in keeping alive the power 
 of attention. But it is probably owing also to 
 new habits of arrangement, which the mind gra- 
 dually and insensibly forms, from the experience 
 of its growing infirmities. The apparent revival of 
 memory in old men, after a temporary decline, 
 (which is a case that happens not unfrequently,) 
 seems to favour this supposition. 
 
 One old man, I have, myself, had the good for- 
 tune to know, who, after a long, an active, and an 
 honourable life, having begun to feel some of the 
 usual effects of advanced years, has been able to 
 find resources in his own sagacity, against most of 
 the inconveniences with which they are commonly 
 attended ; and who, by watching his gradual de- 
 cline with the cool eye of an indifferent observer, 
 and employing his ingenuity to retard its progress, 
 has converted even the infirmities of age into a 
 source of philosophical amusement. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of the Varieties of Memory in different Individuals. 
 
 IT is generally supposed, that, of all our faculties 
 Memory is that which nature has bestowed in the 
 most unequal degrees on different individuals j and it 
 is far from being impossible that this opinion may be 
 well founded. If, however, we consider, that there 
 is scarcely any man who has not memory sufficient
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 417 
 
 to learn the use of language, and to learn to recog- 
 nize, at the first glance, the appearances of an infi- 
 nite number of familiar objects ; besides acquiring 
 such an acquaintance with the laws of nature, and 
 the ordinary course of human affairs, as is necessary 
 for directing his conduct in life ; we shall be satis- 
 fied that the original disparities among men, in this 
 respect, are by no means so immense as they seem to 
 be at first view ; and that much is to be ascribed to 
 different habits of attention, and to a difference of 
 selection among the various objects and events pre- 
 sented to their curiosity. 
 
 As the great purpose to which this faculty is 
 subservient, is to enable us to collect, and to retain, 
 for the future regulation of our conduct, the results 
 of our past experience ; it is evident that the degree 
 of perfection which it attains in the case of differ- 
 ent persons, must vary ; first, with the facility of 
 making the original acquisition; secondly, with the 
 permanence of the acquisition ; and thirdly, with 
 the quickness or readiness with which the individual 
 is able, on particular occasions, to apply it to use. 
 The qualities, therefore, of a good memory are, in 
 the first place, to be susceptible ; secondly, to be 
 retentive ; and thirdly, to be ready. 
 
 It is but rarely that these three qualities are uni- 
 ted in the same person. We often, indeed, meet 
 with a memory which is at once susceptible and rea- 
 dy ; but I doubt much, if such memories be com- 
 monly very retentive : for, susceptibility and readi- 
 ness are both connected with a facility of associating 
 ideas, according to their more obvious relations ; 
 whereas retentiveness, or tenaciousness of memory, 
 
 E E
 
 418 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 depends principally on what is seldom united with 
 this facility, a disposition to system and to philoso- 
 phical arrangement. These observations it will be 
 necessary to illustrate more particularly. 
 
 I have already remarked, in treating of a differ- 
 ent subject, that the bulk of mankind, being but 
 little accustomed to reflect and to generalise, asso- 
 ciate their ideas chiefly according to their more ob- 
 vious relations ; those, for example, of resemblance 
 and of analogy ; and above all, according to the 
 casual relations arising from contiguity in time and 
 place : whereas, in the mind of a philosopher, ideas 
 are commonly associated according to those rela- 
 tions which are brought to light in consequence of 
 particular efforts of attention ; such as the relations 
 of Cause and Effect, or of Premises and Conclusion. 
 This difference in the modes of association of these 
 two classes of men, is the foundation of some very 
 striking diversities between them in respect of in- 
 tellectual character. 
 
 In the first place, in consequence of the nature 
 of the relations which connect ideas together in the 
 mind of the philosopher, it must necessarily happen, 
 that when he has occasion to apply to use his ac- 
 quired knowledge, time and reflexion will be requi- 
 site to enable him to recollect it. In the case of 
 those, on the other hand, who have not been accus- 
 tomed to scientific pursuits ; as their ideas are con- 
 nected together according to the most obvious rela- 
 tions ; when any one idea of a class is presented to 
 the mind, it is immediately followed by the others, 
 which succeed each other spontaneously according 
 to the laws of association. In managing, therefore,
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 419 
 
 the little details of some subaltern employment, in 
 which all that is required, is a knowledge of forms, 
 and a disposition to observe them, the want of a sys- 
 tematical genius is an important advantage ; because 
 this want renders the mind peculiarly susceptible of 
 habits, and allows the train of its ideas to accommo- 
 date itself perfectly to the daily and hourly occur- 
 rences of its situation. But if, in this respect, men 
 of no general principles have an advantage over the 
 philosopher, they fall greatly below him in another 
 point of view; inasmuch as all the information 
 which they possess, must necessarily be limited by 
 their own proper experience ; whereas the philoso- 
 pher, who is accustomed to refer every thing to 
 general principles, is not only enabled, by means of 
 these, to arrange the facts which experience has 
 taught him, but by reasoning from his principles 
 synthetically, has it often in his power to determine 
 facts a priori, which he has no opportunity of ascer- 
 taining by observation. 
 
 It follows farther, from the foregoing principles, 
 that the intellectual defects of the philosopher, are 
 of a much more corrigible nature, than those of the 
 mere man of detail. If the former is thrown by ac- 
 cident into a scene of business, more time will per- 
 haps be necessary to qualify him for it, than would 
 be requisite for the generality of mankind; but time 
 and experience will infallibly, sooner or later, fami- 
 liarise his mind completely with his situation. A 
 capacity for system and for philosophical arrange- 
 ment, unless it has been carefully cultivated in early 
 life, is an acquisition which can scarcely ever be 
 made afterwards ; and, therefore, the defects which 
 
 E E 2
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 1 already mentioned, as connected with early and 
 constant habits of business, adopted from imitation, 
 arid undirected by theory ; may, when once these 
 habits are confirmed, be pronounced to be incurable. 
 1 am also inclined to believe, both from a theo- 
 retical view of the subject, and from my own obser- 
 vations as far as they have reached, that if we wish 
 to fix the particulars of our knowledge very perma- 
 nently in the memory, the most effectual way of 
 doing it, is to refer them to general principles. 
 Ideas which are connected together merely by 
 casual relations, present themselves with readiness 
 to the mind, so long as we are forced by the habits of 
 our situation to apply them to daily use ; but when 
 a change of circumstances leads u$ to vary the ob- 
 jects of our attention, we find our jold ideas gradually 
 to escape from the recollection : and if it should 
 happen that they escape from it altogether, the 
 only method of recovering them, is by renewing 
 those studies by which they Were at first acquired. 
 The case is very different with a man whose ideas, 
 presented to him at first by accident, have been after- 
 wards philosophically arranged and referred to ge- 
 neral principles. When he wishes to recollect them, 
 some time and reflexion will, frequently, be neces- 
 sary to enable him to do so ; but the information 
 which he has once completely acquired, continues, 
 in general, to be an acquisition for life ; or if, acci- 
 dentally, any article of it should be lost, it may often 
 be recovered by a process of reasoning. 
 
 ^Something very similar to this happens in the 
 study of languages. A person who acquires a fo- 
 reign language merely by the ear, and without any
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 421 
 
 knowledge of its principles, commpnly speaks it, 
 while he remains in the country where it is spoken, 
 with more readiness and fluency, than one who has 
 studied it grammatically ; but in the course of a 
 few years absence, he finds himself almost as igno- 
 rant of it as before he acquired it. A language of 
 which we once understand the principles thoroughly, 
 it is hardly possible to lose by disuse. 
 
 A philosophical arrangement of our ideas is at- 
 tended with another very important advantage. 
 In a mind where the prevailing principles of 
 association are founded on casual relations among 
 the various objects of its knowledge, the thoughts 
 must necessarily succeed each other in a very irre- 
 gular and disorderly manner ; and the occasions on 
 which they present themselves, will be determined 
 merely by accident. They will often occur, when 
 they cannot be employed to any purpose ; and will 
 remain concealed from our view, when the recol- 
 lection of them might be useful. They cannot 
 therefore be considered as under our own proper 
 command. But in the case of a philosopher, how 
 slow soever he may be in the recollection of his 
 ideas, he knows always where he is to search for 
 them, so as to bring them all to bear on their proper 
 object. When he wishes to avail himself of his 
 past experience, or of his former conclusions, the 
 occasion, itself, summons up every thought in hjs 
 mind which the ocpasion requires. Or if he is called 
 upon to exert his powers of invention, and of dis- 
 covery, the materials of both are always at hand, 
 and are presented to his view with such a degree of 
 connexion and arrangement, as may enable him to 
 
 E E 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 trace, with ease, their various relations. How much 
 invention depends upon a patient and attentive exa- 
 mination of our ideas, in order to discover the less 
 obvious relations which subsist among them, I had 
 occasion to show, at some length, in a former 
 Chapter. 
 
 The remarks which have been now made, are 
 sufficient to illustrate the advantages which the phi- 
 losopher derives, in the pursuits of science, from 
 that sort of systematical memory which his habits 
 of arrangement give him. It may however be 
 doubted, whether such habits be equally favourable 
 to a talent for agreeable conversation ; at least, for 
 that lively, varied, and unstudied conversation, 
 which forms the principal charm of a promiscuous 
 society. The conversation which pleases generally, 
 must unite the recommendations of quickness, of 
 ease, and of variety : and in all these three respects, 
 that of the philosopher is apt to be deficient. It is 
 deficient in quickness, because his ideas are con- 
 nected by relations which occur only to an attentive 
 and collected mind. It is deficient in ease, because 
 these relations are not the casual and obvious ones, 
 by which ideas are associated in ordinary memories ; 
 but the slow discoveries of patient, and often pain- 
 ful, exertion. As the ideas, too, which he associates 
 together, are commonly of the same class, or at least 
 are referred to the same general principles, he is in 
 danger of becoming tedious, by indulging himself in 
 long and systematical discourses; while another, 
 possessed of the most inferior accomplishments, by 
 laying his mind completely open to impressions from 
 without, and by accommodating continually the
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 \ 
 
 course of his own ideas, not only to the ideas which 
 are started by his companions, but to every trifling 
 and unexpected accident that may occur to give 
 them a new direction, is the life and soul of every 
 society into which he enters. Even the anecdotes 
 which the philosopher has collected, however agree- 
 able they may be in themselves, are seldom intro- 
 duced by him into conversation, with that unstudied 
 but happy propriety, which we admire in men of the 
 world, whose facts are not referred to general prin- 
 ciples, but are suggested to their recollection by the 
 familiar topics and occurrences of ordinary life. 
 Nor is it the imputation of tediousness merely, to 
 which the systematical thinker must submit from 
 common observers. It is but rarely possible to ex- 
 plain completely, in a promiscuous society, all the 
 various parts of the most simple theory ; and as 
 nothing appears weaker or more absurd than a 
 theory which is partially stated, itfrequently happens, 
 that men of ingenuity, by attempting it, sink, in the 
 vulgar apprehension, below the level of ordinary un- 
 derstandings. " Theoriarum vires" (says Lord 
 Bacon) " in apta et se mutuo sustinente partium 
 " harmonia et quadam in orbem demonstrationecon- 
 " sistunt, ideoque per partes traditae infirmae sunt." 
 Before leaving the subject of Casual Memory, it 
 may not be improper to add, that, how much soever 
 it may disqualify for systematical speculation, there 
 is a species of loose and rambling composition, to 
 which it is peculiarly favourable. With such per- 
 formances, it is often pleasant to unbend the mind 
 in solitude, when we are more in the humour for 
 conversation, than for connected thinking. Mon- 
 
 E E 4
 
 424? ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 taigne is unquestionably at the head of this class of 
 authors. " What, indeed, are his Essays," (to 
 adopt his own account of them,) " but grotesque 
 " pieces of patchwork, put together without any 
 " certain figure ; or any order, connexion, or pro- 
 " portion, but what is accidental ?" * 
 
 It is, however, curious, that in consequence of 
 the predominance in his mind of this species of 
 Memory above every other, he is forced to acknow- 
 ledge his total want of that command over his ideas, 
 which can only be founded on habits of systematical 
 arrangement. As the passage is extremely cha- 
 racteristical of the author, and affords a striking 
 confirmation of some of the preceding observations, 
 I shall give it in his own words. " Je ne me tiens 
 " pas bien en ma possession et disposition : le hazard 
 " y a plus de droit que moy : 1'occasion, la com- 
 " pagnie, le branle meme de ma voix tire plus de 
 " mon esprit, que je n'y trouve lors que je sonde 
 " et employe a part moy. Ceci m'advient aussi, 
 " que je ne me trouve pas ou je me cherche ; et me 
 " trouve plus par rencontre, que par 1'inquisition de 
 " mon jugement." t 
 
 The differences which I have now pointed out 
 between philosophical and casual Memory, consti- 
 tute the most remarkable of all the varieties which 
 the minds of different individuals, considered in 
 respect to this faculty, present to our observation. 
 But there are other varieties, of a less striking na- 
 ture, the consideration of which may also suggest 
 some useful reflexions. 
 
 * Liv. i. chap. 27. 
 
 f Lir.i. chap. 10. (Du parler prompt ou tardif.)
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 425 
 
 It was before remarked, that our ideas are fre- 
 quently associated, in consequence of the asso- 
 ciations which take place among their arbitrary 
 signs. Indeed, in the case of all our general spe- 
 culations, it is difficult to see in what other way our 
 thoughts can be associated ; for, I before endea- 
 voured to shew, that, without the use of signs of one 
 kind or another, it would be impossible for us to 
 make classes or genera, objects of our attention. 
 
 All the signs by which our thoughts are ex- 
 pressed, are addressed either to the eye or to the 
 ear ; and the impressions made on these organs, at 
 the time when we first receive an idea, contribute 
 to give us a firmer hold of it. Visible objects (as 
 I observed in the Chapter on Conception) are re- 
 membered more easily than those of any of our other 
 senses : and hence it is, that the bulk of mankind 
 are more aided in their recollection by the im- 
 pressions made on the eye, than by those made on 
 the ear. Every person must have remarked, in 
 studying the elements of geometry, how much his 
 recollection of the theorems was aided, by the dia- 
 grams which are connected with them : and I have 
 little doubt, that the difficulty which students com- 
 monly find to remember the propositions of the fifth 
 book of Euclid, arises chiefly from this, that the mag- 
 nitudes to which they relate, are represented by 
 straight lines, which do not make so strong an im- 
 pression on the memory, as the figures which illus- 
 trate the propositions in the other five books. 
 
 This advantage, which the objects of sight na- 
 turally have over those of hearing, in the distinct- 
 ness and the permanence of the impressions which
 
 4-26 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 they make on the memory, continues, and even in- 
 creases, through life, in the case of the bulk of man- 
 kind ; because their minds, being but little addicted 
 to general and abstract disquisition, are habitually 
 occupied, either with the immediate perception of 
 such objects, or with speculations in which the con- 
 ception of them is more or less involved ; which 
 speculations, so far as they relate to individual 
 things and individual events, may be carried on 
 with little or no assistance from language. 
 
 The case is different with the philosopher, whose 
 habits of abstraction and generalisation lay him con- 
 tinually under a necessity of employing words as an 
 instrument of thought. Such habits co-operating 
 with that inattention, which he is apt to contract to 
 things external, must have an obvious tendency to 
 weaken the original powers of recollection and con- 
 ception with respect to visible objects ; and, at the 
 same time, to strengthen the power of retaining 
 propositions and reasonings expressed in language. 
 The common system of education, too, by exer- 
 cising the memory so much in the acquisition of 
 grammar rules, and of passages from the ancient 
 authors, contributes greatly, in the case of men of 
 letters, to cultivate a capacity for retaining words. 
 
 It is surprising, of what a degree of culture, our 
 power of retaining a succession, even of insigni- 
 ficant sounds, is susceptible. Instances sometimes 
 occur, of men who are easily able to commit to me- 
 mory, a long poem, composed in a language of 
 which they are wholly ignorant ; and I have, myselfi 
 known more than one instance, of an individual, 
 who, after having forgotten completely the classical 
 studies of his childhood, was yet able to repeat, with
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 fluency, long passages from Homer and Virgil, with- 
 out annexing an idea to the words that he uttered. 
 This susceptibility of memory with respect to 
 words, is possessed by all men in a very remarkable 
 degree in their early years, and is, indeed, necessary 
 to enable them to acquire the use of language ; but 
 unless it be carefully cultivated afterwards by con- 
 stant exercise, it gradually decays as we advance to 
 maturity. The plan of education which is followed 
 in this country, however imperfect in many respects, 
 falls in happily with this arrangement of nature, and 
 stores the mind richly, even in infancy, with in- 
 tellectual treasures, which are to remain with it 
 through life. The rules of grammar, which com- 
 prehend systems, more or less perfect, of the prin- 
 ciples of the dead languages, take a permanent 
 hold of the memory, when the understanding is 
 yet unable to comprehend their import j and the 
 classical remains of antiquity, which, at the time we 
 acquire them, do little more than furnish a gratifi- 
 cation to the ear, supply us with inexhaustible 
 sources of the most refined enjoyment j and, as our 
 various powers gradually unfold themselves, arc 
 poured forth, without effort, from the memory, to 
 delight the imagination, and to improve the heart. 
 It cannot be doubted, that a great variety of other 
 articles of useful knowledge, particularly with respect 
 to geographical and chronological details, might be 
 communicated with advantage to children in the 
 form of memorial lines. It is only in childhood, 
 that such details can be learned with facility ; and 
 if they were once acquired, and rendered perfectly 
 familiar to the mind, our riper years would be spared
 
 '428 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 much of that painful and uninteresting labour, 
 which is perpetually distracting our intellectual 
 powers, from those more important exertions, for 
 which, in their mature state, they seem to be 
 destined. 
 
 This tendency of literary habits in general, and 
 more particularly of philosophical pursuits, to ex- 
 ercise the thoughts about words, can scarcely fail 
 to have some effect in weakening the powers of re- 
 collection and conception with respect to sensible 
 objects ; and, in fact, I believe it will be found, 
 that whatever advantage the philosopher may 
 possess over men of little education, in stating ge- 
 neral propositions and general reasonings, he is com- 
 monly inferior to them in point of minuteness and 
 accuracy, when he attempts to describe any object 
 which he has seen, or any event which he has wit- 
 nessed ; supposing the curiosity of both, in such 
 cases, to be interested in an equal degree. I ac- 
 knowledge, indeed, that the undivided attention, 
 which men unaccustomed to reflexion are able to 
 give to the objects of their perceptions, is, in part, 
 the cause of the liveliness and correctness of their 
 conceptions. 
 
 With this diversity in the intellectual habits of 
 cultivated and of uncultivated minds, there is 
 another variety of memory which seems to have 
 some connexion. In recognizing visible objects, 
 the memory of one man proceeds on the general 
 appearance, that of another attaches itself to some 
 minute and distinguishing marks. A peasant knows 
 the various kinds of trees from their general habits ; 
 a botanist, from those characteristical circumstances
 
 Sect. 2. , F THE HUMAN MIND. 429 
 
 on which his classification proceeds. The last kind 
 of memory is, I think, most common among literary 
 men, and arises from their habit of recollecting by 
 means of words. Jt is evidently much easier to 
 express by a description, a number of botanical 
 marks, than the general habit of a tree ; and the 
 same remark is applicable to other cases of a similar 
 nature. But to whatever cause we ascribe it, there 
 can be no doubt of the fact, that many individuals 
 are to be found, and chiefly among men of letters, 
 who, although they have no memory for the general 
 appearances of objects, are yet able to retain, with 
 correctness, an immense number of technical dis- 
 criminations. 
 
 Each of these kinds of memory, has its, peculiar 
 advantages and inconveniencies, which the dread of 
 being tedious induces me to leave to the investi- 
 gation of my readers. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of the Improvement of Memory. Analysis of the Principles 
 
 on which the Culture of Memory depends. 
 
 THE improvement of which the mind is susceptible 
 by culture, is more remarkable, perhaps, in the case 
 of Memory, than in that of any other of our facul- 
 ties. The fact has been often taken notice of in 
 general terms j but I am doubtful if the particular 
 mode in which culture operates on this part of our 
 constitution, has been yet examined by philosophers 
 with the attention which it deserves. 
 
 Of one sort of culture, indeed, of which Memory 
 is susceptible in a very striking degree, no explan- 
 ation can be given ; 1 mean the improvement which
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 the original faculty acquires by mere exercise ; or, 
 in other words, the tendency which practice has 
 to increase our natural facility of association. This 
 effect of practice upon the memory, seems to be an 
 ultimate law of our nature ; or rather, to be a par- 
 ticular instance of that general law, that all our 
 powers, both of body and mind, may be strength- 
 ened, by applying them to their proper purposes. 
 
 Besides, however, the improvement which Me- 
 mory admits of, in consequence of the effects of 
 exercise on the original faculty, it may be greatly 
 aided in its operations, by those expedients which 
 reason and experience suggest for employing it to 
 the best advantage. These expedients furnish a 
 curious subject of philosophical examination : per- 
 haps, too, the inquiry may not be altogether with- 
 out use ; for, although our principal resources for 
 assisting the memory be suggested by nature, yet 
 it is reasonable to think, that in this, as in similar 
 cases, by following out systematically the hints 
 which she suggests to us, a farther preparation may 
 be made for our intellectual improvement. 
 
 Every person must have remarked, in enter- 
 ing upon any new species of study, the difficulty of 
 treasuring up in the memory its elementary prin- 
 ciples ; and the growing facility which he acquires 
 in this respect, as his knowledge becomes more ex- 
 tensive. By analysing the different causes which 
 concur in producing this facility, we may, perhaps, 
 be led to some conclusions which may admit of a 
 practical application. 
 
 I. In every science, the ideas about which it is 
 peculiarly conversant, are connected together by 
 
 1
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND, 431 
 
 some particular associating principle; in one science, 
 for example, by associations founded on the relation 
 of cause andeffect ; in another by associations founded 
 on the relations of mathematical truths ; in a third, on 
 associations founded on contiguity in place or time. 
 Hence one cause of 'the gradual improvement of 
 memory with respect to the familiar objects of our 
 knowledge; for whatever be the prevailing asso- 
 ciating principle among the ideas about which we 
 are habitually occupied, it must necessarily acquire 
 additional strength from our favourite study. 
 
 2. In proportion as a science becomes more fami- 
 liar to us, we acquire a greater command of atten- 
 tion with respect to the objects about which it is 
 conversant ; for the information which we already 
 possess, gives us an interest in every new truth and 
 every new fact which have any relation to it. In 
 most cases, our habits of inattention may be traced 
 to a want of curiosity ; and therefore such habits 
 are to be corrected, not by endeavouring to force 
 the attention in particular instances, but by gra- 
 dually learning to place the ideas which we wish to 
 remember, in an interesting point of view. 
 
 3. When we first enter on any new literary pur- 
 suit, we are unable to make a proper discrimination 
 in point of utility and importance, among the,ideas 
 which are presented to us ; and by attempting to 
 grasp at every thing, we fail in making those mode- 
 rate acquisitions which are suited to the limited 
 powers of the human mind. As our information 
 extends, our selection becomes more judicious and 
 more confined ; and our knowledge of useful and 
 connected truths advances rapidly, from our ceas-
 
 432 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 ing to distract the attention with such as are de- 
 tached and insignificant. 
 
 4. Every object of our knowledge is related to a 
 variety of others ; and may be presented to the 
 thoughts, sometimes by one principle of association, 
 and sometimes by another. In proportion, there- 
 fore, to the multiplication of mutual relations among 
 our ideas, (which is the natural result of growing 
 information, and in particular, of habits of philo- 
 sophical study,) the greater will be the number of 
 occasions on which they will recur to the recollec- 
 tion, and the firmer will be the root which each 
 idea, in particular, will take in the memory. 
 
 It follows, too, from this observation, that the 
 facility of retaining a new fact, or a new idea, will 
 depend on the number of relations which it bears to 
 the former objects of our knowledge ; and, on the 
 other hand, that every such acquisition, so far from 
 loading the memory, gives us a firmer hold of all 
 that part of our previous information, with which it 
 is in any degree connected. 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be improper to take this op- 
 portunity of observing, although the remark be not 
 immediately connected with our present subject, that 
 the accession made to the stock of our knowledge, 
 by the new facts and ideas which we acquire, is not 
 to be estimated merely by the number of these facts 
 and ideas considered individually ; but by the num- 
 ber of relations which they bear to one another, and 
 to all the different particulars which were previously 
 in the mind j for " new knowledge," (as Mr. Mac- 
 laurin has well remarked *,) " does not consist so 
 * See the Conclusion of his View of NEWTON'S Discoveries.
 
 Sect. 3. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 " much in our having access to a new object, as in 
 " comparing it with others already known, observ- 
 " ing its relations to them, or discerning what it has 
 " in common with them, and wherein their disparity 
 " consists : and, therefore, our knowledge is vastly 
 " greater than the sum of what all its objects sepa- 
 " rately could afford ; and when a new object comes 
 ' within our reach, the addition to our knowledge is 
 " the greater, the more we already know j so that it 
 " increases, not as the new objects increase, but in 
 *' a much higher proportion. " 
 
 5. In the last place, the natural powers of Me- 
 mory are, in the case of the philosopher, greatly 
 aided by his peculiar habits of classification and ar- 
 rangement. As this is by far the most important 
 improvement of which Memory is susceptible, I 
 shalj consider it more particularly than any of the 
 others I have mentioned. 
 
 The advantages which the memory derives from 
 a proper classification of our ideas, may be best con- 
 ceived by attending to its effects in enabling us to 
 conduct with ease, the common business of life. 
 In what inextricable confusion would the lawyer or 
 the merchant be immediately involved, if he were to 
 deposit, in his cabinet, promiscuously, the various 
 written documents which daily and hourly pass 
 through his hands? Nor could this confusion be pre- 
 vented by ^the natural powers of memory, however 
 vigorous they might happen to be. By a proper dis- 
 tribution of these documents, and a judicious refer- 
 ence of them to a few general titles, a very, ordinary 
 memory is enabled to accomplish more, than the 
 most retentive, unassisted by method. We know, 
 
 F F
 
 434- ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Ckap.VI. 
 
 with certainty, where to find any article we may have 
 occasion for, if it be in our possession ; and the 
 search is confined within reasonable limits, instead 
 of being allowed to wander at random amidst a 
 chaos of particulars. 
 
 Or, to take an instance still more immediately 
 applicable to our purpose : suppose that a man of let- 
 ters were to record, in a common-place book, with- 
 out any method, all the various ideas and facts which 
 occurred to him in the course of his studies ; what 
 difficulties would he perpetually experience in ap- 
 plying his acquisitions to use ? and how completely 
 and easily might these difficulties be obviated by re- 
 ferring the particulars of his information to certain 
 general heads ? It is obvious, too, that, by doing so, 
 he would not only have his knowledge much more 
 completely under his command, but as the particu- 
 lars classed together would all have some connexion, 
 more or less, with each other, he would be enabled 
 to trace, with advantage, those mutual relations 
 among his ideas, which it is the object of philosophy 
 to ascertain. 
 
 A common-place book, conducted without any 
 method, is an exact picture of the memory of a man 
 whose inquiries are not directed by philosophy. 
 And the advantages of order in treasuring up our 
 ideas in the mind, are perfectly analogous to its 
 effects w r hen they are recorded in writing. 
 
 Nor is this all. In order to retain our knowledge 
 distinctly and permanently, it is necessary that we 
 should frequently recal it to our recollection. But 
 how can this be done without the aid of arrange- 
 ment ? Or supposing that it were possible, how
 
 Sect. 3, OP THE HUMAN MIND. 43. J 
 
 much time and labour would be necessary for bring- 
 ing under our review the various particulars of which 
 our information is composed ? In proportion as it is 
 properly systematised, this time and labour are 
 abridged. The mind dwells habitually, not on de- 
 tached facts, but on a comparatively small number 
 of general principles ; and, by means of these, it can 
 summon up, as occasions may require, an infinite 
 number of particulars associated with them j each 
 of which, considered as a solitary truth, would have 
 been as burthensome to the memory, as the general 
 principle with which it is connected. 
 
 I would not wish it to be understood from these 
 observations, that philosophy consists in classifica- 
 tion alone ; and that its only use is to assist the me- 
 mory. I have often, indeed, heard this asserted in 
 general terms ; but it appears to me to be obvious, 
 that although this be one of its most important uses, 
 yet something more is necessary to complete the 
 definition of it. Were the case otherwise, it would 
 follow, that all classifications are equally philosophi- 
 cal, provided they are equally comprehensive. The 
 very great importance of this subject will, I hope, 
 be a sufficient apology for me, in taking this oppor- 
 tunity to correct some mistaken opinions which 
 have been formed concerning it, 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Aid tuhich the Memory derives 
 from Philosophical Arrangement. 
 
 IT was before observed, that the great use of the 
 faculty of Memory, is to enable us to treasure up, 
 
 F F 2
 
 436 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 for the future regulation of our conduct, the results 
 of our past experience, and of our past reflexions. 
 But in every case in which we judge of the future 
 from the past, we must proceed on the belief, that 
 there is, in the course of events, a certain degree, 
 at least, of uniformity. And, accordingly, this be- 
 lief is not only justified by experience, but (as Dr. 
 Reid has shewn, in a very satisfactory manner, ) it 
 forms a part of the original constitution of the hu- 
 man mind. In the -general laws of the material 
 world, this uniformity is found to be complete; inso- 
 much that, in the same combinations of circumstan- 
 ces, we expect, with the most perfect assurance, 
 that the same results will take place. In the moral 
 world, the course of events does not appear to be 
 equally regular ; but still it is regular, to so great 
 a degree, as to afford us many rules of importance 
 in the conduct of life. 
 
 A knowledge of Nature, in so far as it is absolute- 
 ly necessary for the preservation of our animal ex- 
 istence, is obtruded on us, without any reflexion on 
 our part, from our earliest infancy. It is thus that 
 children learn of themselves to accommodate their 
 conduct to the established laws of the material 
 world. In doing so, they are guided merely by me- 
 mory, and the instinctive principle of anticipation, 
 which has just been mentioned. 
 
 In forming conclusions concerning future events, 
 the philosopher, as Well as the infant, can only build 
 with safety on past experience j and he, too, as well 
 as the infant, proceeds on an instinctive belief, for 
 which he is unable to account, of the uniformity of 
 the laws of nature. There are, however, two im-
 
 Sect.4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 437 
 
 portant respects, which distinguish the knowledge 
 he possesses from that of ordinary men. In the first 
 place, it is far more extensive, in consequence of 
 the assistance which science gives to his natural 
 powers of invention and discovery. Secondly, it 
 is not only more easily retained in the memory, and 
 more conveniently applied to use, in consequence 
 of the manner in which his ideas are arranged ; but 
 it enables him to ascertain, by a process of reason, 
 ing, all those truths which may be synthetically de- 
 duced from his general principles. The illustration 
 of these particulars will lead to some useful re- 
 marks ; and will at the same time shew, that, in 
 discussing the subject of this Section, I have not 
 lost sight of the inquiry which occasioned it. 
 
 I. 1. It was already remarked, that the natural 
 powers of Memory, together with that instinctive 
 anticipation of the future from the past, which forms 
 one of the original principles of the mind, are suffi- 
 cient to enable infants, after a very short experience, 
 to preserve their animal existence. The laws of 
 nature, which it is not so important for us to know, 
 and which are the objects of philosophical curiosity, 
 are not so obviously exposed to our view, but are, 
 in general, brought to light by means of experi- 
 ments which are made for the purpose of discovery; 
 or, in other words, by artificial combinations of 
 circumstances, which we have no opportunity of 
 seeing conjoined in the course of our ordinary 
 experience. In this manner, it is evident, that 
 many connexions may be ascertained, which would 
 never have occurred spontaneously to our obser- 
 vation. 
 
 F F 3
 
 438 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 2. There are, too, some instances, particularly in 
 the case of the astronomical phenomena, in which 
 events, that appear to common observers to be alto- 
 gether anomalous, are found, upon a more accurate 
 and continued examination of them, to be subjected 
 to a regular law. Such are those phenomena in the 
 heavens, which we are able to predict by means of 
 Cycles. In the cases formerly described, our know- 
 ledge of nature is extended by placing her in 
 new situations. In these cases, it is extended by 
 continuing our observations beyond the limits of 
 ordinary curiosity. 
 
 3. In the case of human affairs, as long as we con- 
 fine our attention to particulars, we do not observe 
 the same uniformity, as in the phenomena of the 
 material world. When, however, we extend our 
 views to events which depend on a, combination of 
 different circumstances, such a degree of uniformity 
 appears, as enables us to establish general rules, 
 from which probable conjectures may often be 
 formed with respect to futurity. It is thus, that we 
 can pronounce, with much greater confidence, con- 
 cerning the proportion of deaths which shall hap- 
 pen in a certain period among a given number of 
 men, than we can predict the death of any indivi- 
 dual ; and that it is more reasonable to employ our 
 sagacity, in speculating concerning the probable 
 determinations of a numerous society, than con- 
 cerning events which depend on the will of a 
 single person. 
 
 In what manner this uniformity in events de- 
 pending on contingent circumstances is produced, 
 I shall not inquire at present. The advantages 
 3
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 439 
 
 which we derive from it are obvious, as it enables 
 us to collect, from our past experience, many gene- 
 ral rules, both with respect to the history of poli- 
 tical societies, and the characters and conduct of 
 men in private life. 
 
 4. In the last place ; the knowledge of the philo- 
 sopher is more extensive than that of other men, in 
 consequence of the attention which he gives, not 
 merely to objects and events, but to the relations 
 which different objects and different events bear to 
 each other. 
 
 The observations and the experience of the vulgar 
 are almost wholly limited to things perceived by the 
 senses. A similarity between different objects, or 
 between different events, rouses their curiosity, and 
 leads them to classification, and to general rules. 
 But a similarity between different relations, is sel- 
 dom to be traced without previous habits of philo- 
 sophical inquiry. Many such similarities or con- 
 nexions, however, are to be found in nature ; and 
 when once they are ascertained, they frequently 
 lead to important discoveries ; not only with respect 
 to other relations, but with respect to the objects 
 or to the events which are related. These remarks 
 it will be necessary to illustrate more particularly. 
 
 The great object of Geometry is to ascertain the 
 relations which exist between different quantities, 
 and the connexions which exist between dif- 
 ferent relations. When we demonstrate, that the 
 angle at the centre of a circle is double of the angle 
 at the circumference on the same base, we ascer- 
 tain a relation between two quantities. When we 
 demonstrate, that triangles of the same altitude are 
 
 F F 4
 
 440 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VL 
 
 to each other as their bases, we ascertain a con- 
 nexion between two relations. It is obvious, how 
 much the mathematical sciences must contribute 
 to enlarge our knowledge of the universe, in con- 
 sequence of such discoveries. In that simplest of 
 all processes of practical geometry, which teaches 
 us to measure the height of an accessible tower, by 
 comparing the length of its shadow with that of a 
 staff' fixed vertically in the ground, we proceed 
 on the principle, that the relation between the 
 shadow of the staff and the height of the staff is the 
 same with the relation between the shadow of the 
 tower and the height of the tower. But the former 
 relation we can ascertain by actual measurement ; 
 and, of consequence, we not only obtain the other 
 relation ; but, as we can measure one of the related 
 quantities, we obtain also the other quantity. In 
 every case in which mathematics assists us in 
 measuring themagnitudes or the distances of objects, 
 it proceeds on the same principle ; that is, it begins 
 with ascertaining connexions among different re- 
 lations, and thus enables us to carry our inquiries 
 from facts which are exposed to the examination of 
 our senses, to the most remote parts of the universe. 
 I observed also, that there are various relations ex- 
 isting among physical events, and various connex- 
 ions existing among these relations. It is owing to 
 this circumstance, that mathematics is so useful an 
 instrument in the hands of the physical inquirer. 
 In that beautiful theorem of Huyghens, which de- 
 monstrates, that the time of a complete oscillation 
 of a pendulum in the cycloid, is to the time in 
 which* a body would fall through the axis of the
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 441 
 
 cycloid, as the circumference of a circle is to its 
 diameter, we are made acquainted with a very 
 curious and unexpected connexion between two 
 relations ; and the knowledge of this connexion 
 facilitates the determination of a most important 
 fact with respect to the descent of heavy bodies 
 near the earth's surface, which could not be ascer- 
 tained conveniently by a direct experiment. 
 
 In examining, with attention, the relations among 
 different physical events, and the connexions among 
 different relations, we sometimes are led by mere in- 
 duction to the discovery of a general law ; while, to 
 ordinary observers, nothing appears but irregularity. 
 From the writings of the earlier opticians we learn, 
 that, in examining the first principles of dioptrics, 
 they were led, by the analogy of the law of reflexion, 
 to search for the relation between the angles of in- 
 cidence and refraction, (in the case of light passing 
 from one medium into another, ) in the angles them- 
 selves ; and that some of them, finding this inquiry 
 unsuccessful, took the trouble to determine, by ex- 
 periments, (in the case of the media which most fre- 
 .quently fall under consideration,) the angle of re- 
 fraction corresponding to every minute of incidence. 
 Some very laborious tables, deduced from such ex- 
 periments, are to be found in the works of Kircher. 
 At length, Snellius discovered what is now called 
 the law of refraction, which comprehends their 
 whole contents in a single sentence. 
 
 The law of the planetary motions, deduced by 
 Kepler, from the observations of Tycho Brahe, is 
 another striking illustration of the order, which an 
 attentive inquirer is sometimes able to trace, among
 
 442 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 the relations of physical events, when the events 
 themselves appear, on a superficial view, to be per- 
 fectly anomalous. 
 
 Such laws are, in some respects, analogous to the 
 cycles which I have already mentioned ; but they 
 differ from them in this, that a cycle is, commonly, 
 deduced from observations made on physical events 
 which are obvious to the senses ; whereas the laws 
 we have now been considering, are deduced from 
 an examination of relations which are known only 
 to men of science. The most celebrated astrono- 
 mical cycles, accordingly, are of a very remote an- 
 tiquity, and were probably discovered at a period, 
 when the study of astronomy consisted merely in 
 accumulating and recording the more striking ap- 
 pearances of the heavens. 
 
 II. Having now endeavoured to shew, how much 
 philosophy contributes to extend our knowledge of 
 facts, by aiding our natural powers of invention 
 and discovery, I proceed to explain, in what man- 
 ner it supersedes the necessity of studying particular 
 truths, by putting us in possession of a compara- 
 tively small number of general principles in which 
 they are involved. 
 
 I already remarked the assistance which philoso- 
 phy gives to the memory, in consequence of the 
 arrangement it introduces among our ideas. In this 
 respect even a hypothetical theory may facilitate the 
 recollection of facts ; in the same manner in which 
 the memory is aided in remembering the objects of 
 natural history by artificial classifications. 
 
 The advantages, however, we derive from true 
 philosophy, are incomparably greater than what are
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 443 
 
 to be expected from any hypothetical theories. 
 These, indeed, may assist us in recollecting the par- 
 ticulars we are already acquainted with ; but it is 
 only from the laws ofnature, which have been traced 
 analytically from facts, that we can venture, with 
 safety, to deduce consequences by reasoning a priori. 
 An example will illustrate and confirm this obser- 
 vation. 
 
 Suppose that a glass tube, thirty inches long, is 
 filled with mercury, excepting eight inches, and is 
 inverted as in the Torricellian experiment, so that 
 the eight inches of common air may rise to the top; 
 and that I wish to know at what height the mercury 
 will remain suspended in the tube, the barometer 
 being at that time twenty-eight inches high. There 
 is here a combination of different laws, which it is 
 necessary to attend to, in order to be able to pre- 
 dict the result. 1. The air is a heavy fluid, and the 
 pressure of the atmosphere is measured by the co- 
 lumn of mercury in the barometer. 2. The air is an 
 elastic fluid ; and its elasticity at the earth's surface 
 (as it resists the pressure of the atmosphere) is mea- 
 sured by the column of mercury in the barometer. 
 3. In different states, the elastic force of the air is 
 reciprocally as the spaces which it occupies. But, in 
 this experiment, the mercury which remains sus- 
 pended in the tube, together with the elastic force of 
 the air in the top of the tube, is a counterbalance to 
 the pressure of the atmosphere ; and therefore their 
 joint effect must be equal to the pressure of a column 
 of mercury twenty-eight inches high. Hence we 
 obtain an algebraical equation, which affords an easy 
 solution of the problem. It is further evident, that
 
 444> ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 my knowledge of the physical laws which are here 
 combined, puts it in my power to foretel the result, 
 not only in this case, but in all the cases of a similar 
 nature which can be supposed. The problem, in any 
 particular instance, might be solved by making the 
 experiment ; but the result would be of no use to 
 me, if the slightest alteration were made on the data. 
 
 Pt is in this manner that philosophy, by putting us 
 in possession of a few general facts, enables us to 
 determine, by reasoning, what will be the result of 
 any supposed combination of them, and thus to com- 
 prehend an infinite variety of particulars, which no 
 memory, however vigorous, would have been able 
 to retain. In consequence of the knowledge of such 
 general facts the philosopher is relieved from the ne- 
 cessity of treasuring up in his mind, all those truths 
 which are involved in his principles, and which may 
 be deduced from them by reasoning ; and he can 
 often prosecute his discoveries synthetically, in those 
 parts of the universe which he has no access to exa- 
 mine by immediate observation. There is, there- 
 fore, this important difference between the hypothe- 
 tical theory, and a theory obtained by induction j 
 that the latter not only enables us to remember the 
 facts we already know, but to ascertain by reason- 
 ing, many facts which we have never had an oppor- 
 tunity of examining : whereas when we reason from 
 a hypothesis a priori, we are almost certain of 
 running into error ; and, consequently, whatever 
 may be its use to the memory, it can never be trust- 
 ed to, in judging of cases which have not previously 
 fallen within our experience. 
 
 There are some sciences, in which hypothetical 
 6
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 445 
 
 theories are more useful than in others ; those scien- 
 ces, to wit, in which we have occasion for an exten- 
 sive knowledge and a ready recollection of facts, and 
 which, at the same time, are yet in too imperfect a 
 state to allow us to obtain just theories by the me- 
 thod of induction. This is particularly the case in 
 the science of medicine, in which we are under 
 a necessity to apply our knowledge, such as it is, to 
 practice. It is also, in some degree, the case in 
 agriculture. In the merely speculative parts of 
 physics and chemistry, we may go on patiently ac- 
 cumulating facts, without forming any one con- 
 clusion, farther than our facts authorise us ; and 
 leave to posterity the credit of establishing the 
 theory to which our labours are subservient. But 
 in medicine, in which it is of consequence to have 
 our knowledge at command, it seems reasonable to 
 think, that hypothetical theories may be used with 
 advantage ; provided always, that they are con- 
 sidered merely in the light of artificial memories, 
 and that the student is prepared to lay them aside, 
 or to correct them, in proportion as his knowledge 
 of nature becomes more extensive. I am, indeed, 
 ready to confess, that this is a caution which it is 
 more easy to give than to follow : for it is painful 
 to change any of our habits of arrangement, and to 
 relinquish those systems in which we have been 
 educated, and which have long flattered us with an 
 idea of our own wisdom. Dr. Gregory * mentions 
 it as a striking and distinguishing circumstance in 
 the character of Sydenham, that, although full, of 
 hypothetical reasoning, it did not render him the 
 * Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician.
 
 4 tO ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 less attentive to observation ; and that his hypo- 
 theses seem to have sat so loosely about him, that 
 either they did not influence his practice at all, or 
 he could easily abandon them, whenever they would 
 not bend to his experience. 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Effects produced on the 
 Memory by committing to Writing our acquired Knorvdedgt. 
 
 HAVING treated at considerable length of the im- 
 provement of memory, it may not be improper, be- 
 fore leaving this part of the subject, to consider 
 what effects are likely to be produced on the mind 
 by the practice of committing to writing our ac- 
 quired knowledge. That such a practice is un- 
 favourable, in some respects, to the faculty of me- 
 mory, by superseding, to a certain degree, the 
 necessity of its exertions, has been often remarked, 
 and I believe is true ; but the advantages with 
 which it is attended in other respects, are so im- 
 portant, as to overbalance greatly this trifling in- 
 convenience. 
 
 It is not my intention at present to examine and 
 compare together the different methods which have 
 been proposed, of keeping a common-place book. 
 In this, as in other cases of a similar kind, it may 
 be difficult, perhaps, or impossible, to establish any 
 rules which will apply universally. Individuals 
 must be left to judge for themselves, and t6 adapt 
 their contrivances to the particular nature of their 
 literary pursuits, and to their own peculiar habits
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 44*7 
 
 of association and arrangement. The remarks which 
 I am to offer are very general, and are intended 
 merely to illustrate a few of the advantages which 
 the art of writing affords to the philosopher, for re- 
 cording, in the course of his progress through life, 
 the results of his speculations, and the fruits of 
 his experience. 
 
 The utility of writing, in enabling one generation 
 to transmit its discoveries to another, and in thus 
 giving rise to a gradual progress in the species, has 
 been sufficiently illustrated by many authors. Little 
 attention, however, has been paid to another of its 
 effects, which is no less important ; I mean, to the 
 foundation which it lays for a perpetual progress in 
 the intellectual powers of the individual. 
 
 It is to experience, and to our own reflexions, 
 that we are indebted for by far the most valuable 
 part of our knowledge ; and hence it is, that 
 although in youth the imagination may be more 
 vigorous, and the genius more original, than in ad- 
 vanced years ; yet, in the case of a man of obser- 
 vation and inquiry, the judgement may be expected, 
 at least as long as his faculties remain in perfection, 
 to become every day sounder and more enlightened. 
 It is, however, only by the constant practice of 
 writing, that the results of our experience, and the 
 progress of our ideas, can be accurately recorded. 
 If they are trusted merely to the memory, they will 
 gradually vanish from it like a dream, or will come 
 in time to be so blended with the suggestions of 
 imagination, that we shall not be able to reason 
 from them with any degree of confidence. What 
 improvements in science might we not flatter our-
 
 448 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 selves with the hopes of accomplishing, had we 
 only activity and industry to treasure up every 
 plausible hint that occurs to us ! Hardly a day 
 passes, when many such do not occur to ourselves, 
 or are suggested by others : and detached and in- 
 sulated, as they may appear at present, some of 
 them may perhaps afterwards, at the distance of 
 years, furnish the keystone of an important system. 
 But it is not only in this point of view that the 
 philosopher derives advantage from the practice of 
 writing. Without its assistance, he could seldom 
 be able to advance beyond those simple elementary 
 truths which are current in the world, and which 
 form, in the various branches of science, the esta- 
 blished creed of the age he lives in. How incon- 
 siderable would have been the progress of mathe- 
 maticians, in their more abstruse speculations, 
 without the aid of the algebraical notation ; and to 
 what sublime discoveries have they been led by this 
 beautiful contrivance, which, by relieving the me- 
 mory of the effort necessary for recollecting the 
 steps of a long investigation, has enabled them to 
 prosecute an infinite variety of inquiries, to which 
 the unassisted powers of the human mind would 
 have been altogether unequal ! In the other sciences, 
 it is true, we have seldom or never occasion to 
 follow out such long chains of consequences as in 
 mathematics ; but in these sciences, if the chain of 
 investigation be shorter, it is far more difficult to 
 make the transition from one link to another ; and 
 it is only by dwelling long on our ideas, and ren- 
 dering them perfectly familiar to us, that such 
 transitions can, in most instances, be made with
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 449 
 
 safety. In morals and politics, when we advance a 
 step beyond those elementary truths which are daily 
 presented to us in books or conversation, there is 
 no method of rendering our conclusions familiar to 
 us, but by committing them to writing, and making 
 them frequently tjie subjects of our meditation. 
 When we have once done so, these conclusions be- 
 come elementary truths with respect to us ; and we 
 may advance from them with confidence to others 
 which are more remote, and which are far beyond 
 the reach of vulgar discovery. By following such 
 a plan, we can hardly fail to have our industry re- 
 warded in due time by some important improve- 
 ment ; and it is only by such a plan that we can 
 reasonably hope to extend considerably the boun- 
 daries of human knowledge. I do not say that 
 these habits of study are equally favourable to bril- 
 liancy of conversation. On the contrary, I believe 
 that those men who possess this accomplishment in 
 the highest degree, are such as do not advance be- 
 yond elementary truths ; or rather, perhaps, who 
 advance only a single step beyond them ; that is, 
 who think a little more deeply than the vulgar, but 
 whose conclusions are not so far removed from com- 
 mon opinions, as to render it necessary for them, 
 when called upon to defend them, to exhaust the 
 patience of their hearers, by stating a long train of 
 intermediate ideas. They who have pushed their 
 inquiries much farther than the common systems of 
 their times, and have rendered familiar to their 
 own minds the intermediate steps by which they 
 have been led to their conclusions, are too apt to 
 conceive other men to be in the same situation 
 
 G G
 
 450 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 with themselves j and when they mean to instruct, 
 are mortified to find that they are only regarded as 
 paradoxical and visionary. It is but rarely we find 
 a man of very splendid and various conversation to 
 be possessed of a profound judgment, or of great 
 originality of genius. 
 
 Nor is it merely to the philosopher, who wishes 
 to distinguish himself by his discoveries, that 
 writing affords an useful instrument of study. Im- 
 portant assistance may be derived from it by all 
 those who wish to impress on their minds the inves- 
 tigations which occur to them in the course of their 
 reading ; for although writing may weaken (as I 
 already acknowledged it does) a memory for de- 
 tached observations, or for insulated facts, it will be 
 found the only effectual method of fixing in it per- 
 manently, those acquisitions which involve long 
 processes of reasoning. 
 
 When we are employed in inquiries of our own, 
 the conclusions which we form make a much deeper 
 and more lasting impression on the memory, than 
 any knowledge which we imbibe passively from 
 another. This is undoubtedly owing, in part, to 
 the effect which the ardour of discovery has, in 
 rousing the activity of the mind, and in fixing its 
 attention ; but I apprehend it is chiefly to be as- 
 cribed to this, that when we follow out a train of 
 thinking of our own, our ideas are arranged in that 
 order which is most agreeable to our prevailing 
 habits of association. The only method of putting 
 our acquired knowledge on a level, in this respect, 
 with our original speculations, is, after making our- 
 selves acquainted with our author's ideas, to study
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 451 
 
 the subject over again in our own way ; to pause, 
 from time to time, in the course of our reading, in 
 order to consider what we have gained ; to recollect 
 what the propositions are, which the author wishes 
 to establish, and to examine the different proofs 
 which he employs to support them. In making 
 such an experiment, we commonly find, that the 
 different steps of the process arrange themselves in 
 our minds, in a manner different from that in which 
 the author has stated them ; and that, while his ar- 
 gument seems, in some places, obscure, from its 
 conciseness ; it is tedious in others, from being un- 
 necessarily expanded. When we have reduced the 
 reasoning to that form, which appears to ourselves 
 to be the most natural and satisfactory, we may 
 conclude with certainty, not that this form is bet- 
 ter in itself than another, but that it is the best 
 adapted to our memory. Such reasonings, there- 
 fore, as we have occasion frequently to apply, either 
 in the business of life, or in the course of our studies, 
 it is of importance to us to commit to writing, in 
 a language and in an order of our own ; and if, at 
 any time, we find it necessary to refresh our recol- 
 lection on the subject, to have recourse to our own 
 composition, in preference to that of any other 
 author. 
 
 That the plan of reading which is commonly fol- 
 lowed is very different from that which I have been 
 recommending, will not be disputed. Most people 
 read merely to pass an idle hour, or to please them- 
 selves with the idea of employment, while their in- 
 dolence prevents them from any active exertion ; 
 and a considerable number with a view to the display 
 
 o G 2
 
 452 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 which they are afterwards to make of their literary 
 acquisitions. From whichsoever of these motives 
 a person is led to the perusal of books, it is hardly 
 possible that he can derive from them any material 
 advantage. If he reads merely from indolence, the 
 ideas which pass through his mind will probably 
 leave little or no impression ; and if he reads from 
 vanity, he will be more anxious to select striking 
 particulars in the matter or expression, than to seize 
 the spirit and scope of the author's reasoning, or ta 
 examine how far he has made any additions to the 
 stock of useful and solid knowledge. " Though 
 " it is scarce possible," says Dr. Butler *, " ta 
 " avoid judging in some way or other, of almost 
 " every thing which offers itself to one's thoughts, 
 " yet it is certain, that many persons, from different 
 " causes, never exercise their judgment upon what 
 " comes before them, in such a manner as to be 
 " able to determine how far it be conclusive. They 
 " are perhaps entertained with some things, not so 
 " with others j they like, and they dislike ; but 
 " whether that which is proposed to be made out, be 
 " really made out or not ; whether a matter be 
 " stated according to the real truth of the case, 
 seems, to the generality of people, a circumstance 
 " of little or no importance. Arguments are often 
 " wanted for some accidental purpose; but proof] 
 " as such, is what they never want, for their own 
 " satisfaction of mind, or conduct in life. Not to 
 " mention the multitudes who read merely for the 
 " sake of talking, or to qualify themselves for the 
 
 * See the Preface to his Sermons.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 453 
 
 " world, or some such kind of reasons ; there are 
 " even of the few who read for their own entertain- 
 " ment, and have a real curiosity to see what is said, 
 " several, which is astonishing, who have no sort of 
 " curiosity to see what is true : I say curiosity, be- 
 " cause it is too obvious to be mentioned how much 
 " that religious and sacred attention which is due 
 " to truth, and to the important question, what is 
 " the rule of life, is lost out of the world. 
 
 " For the sake of this whole class of readers, for 
 ' they are of different capacities, different kinds, 
 " and get into this way from different occasions, I 
 " have often wished that it had been the custom to 
 ** lay before people nothing in matters of argument 
 " but premises, and leave them to draw conclusions 
 " themselves ; which, although it could not be 
 " done in all cases, might in many. 
 
 " The great number of books and papers of 
 amusement, which, of one kind or another, daily 
 " come in one's way, have in part occasioned, and 
 " most perfectly fall in with and humour this idle 
 " way of reading and considering things. By this 
 " means, time, even in solitude, is happily got rid of 
 " without the pain of attention ; neither is any 
 " part of it more put to the account of idleness, 
 " (one can scarce forbear saying, is spent with less 
 " thought,) than great part of that which is spent 
 " in reading." 
 
 If the plan of study which I formerly described 
 were adopted, it would undoubtedly diminish very 
 much the number of books which it would be 
 possible to turn over j but I am convinced that it 
 would add greatly to the stock of useful and soh'd 
 
 o G 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 knowledge ; and by rendering our acquired ideas 
 in some measure our own, would give us a more 
 ready and practical command of them : not to 
 mention, that if we are possessed of any inventive 
 powers, such exercises would continually furnish 
 them with an opportunity of displaying themselves 
 upon all the different subjects which may pass under 
 our review. 
 
 Nothing, in truth, has such a tendency to weaken, 
 not only the powers of invention, but the intellectual 
 powers in general, as a habit of extensive and va- 
 rious reading, without reflection. The activity and 
 force of the mind are gradually impaired, in con- 
 sequence of disuse ; and not unfrequently all our 
 principles and opinions come to be lost, in the infi- 
 nite multiplicity and discordancy of our acquired 
 ideas. 
 
 By confining our ambition to pursue the truth 
 with modesty and candour, and learning to value 
 our acquisitions only as far as they contribute to 
 make us wiser and happier, we may perhaps be 
 obliged to sacrifice the temporary admiration of the 
 common dispensers of literary tame ; but we may 
 rest assured, that it is in this way only we can hope 
 to make real progress in knowledge, or to enrich 
 the world with useful inventions. 
 
 " It requires courage, indeed," (as Helvetius has 
 remarked,) " to remain ignorant of those useless 
 " subjects which are generally valued ;" but it is a 
 courage necessary to men who either love the truth, 
 er who aspire to establish a permanent reputation.
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 455 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Continuation of the same subject. Of Artificial Memory. 
 
 BY an Artificial Memory is meant, a method of 
 connecting in the mind, things difficult to be re- 
 membered, with things easily remembered ; so as to 
 enable it to retain, and to recollect the former, by 
 means of the latter. For this purpose, various con- 
 trivances have been proposed, but I think the fore- 
 going definition applies to all of them. 
 
 Some sorts of artificial memory are intended to 
 assist the natural powers of the human mind on par- 
 ticular occasions, which require a more than ordi- 
 nary effort of recollection ; for example, to assist a 
 public speaker to recollect the arrangement of a 
 long discourse. Others have been devised with a 
 view to enable us to extend the circle of our ac- 
 quired knowledge, and to give us a more ready 
 command of all the various particulars of our in- 
 formation. 
 
 The topical Memory so much celebrated among 
 the ancient rhetoricians, comes under the former 
 description. 
 
 I already remarked, the effect of sensible objects 
 in recalling to the mind the ideas with which it hap- 
 pened to be occupied, at the time when these 
 objects were formerly perceived. In travelling 
 along a road, the sight of the more remarkable 
 scenes we meet with, frequently puts us in mind of 
 the subjects we were thinking or talking of when 
 we last saw them. Such facts, which are perfectly 
 
 G G 4>
 
 456 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 familiar even to the vulgar, might very naturally 
 suggest the possibility of assisting the memory, by 
 establishing a connexion between the ideas we wish * 
 to remember, and certain sensible objects, which 
 have been found from experience to make a per- 
 manent impression on the mind. * I have been told 
 of a young woman, in a very low rank of life, who 
 contrived a method of committing to memory the 
 sermons which she was accustomed to hear, by fix- 
 ing her attention, during the different heads of the 
 discourse, on different compartments of the roof of 
 the church ; in such a manner, as that when she 
 "after wards saw the roof, or recollected the order in 
 which its compartments were disposed, she recol- 
 lected the method which the preacher had observed 
 in treating his subject. This contrivance was per- 
 fectly analogous to the topical memory of the an- 
 cients ; an art which, whatever be the opinion we 
 entertain of its use, is certainly entitled, in a high 
 degree, to the praise of ingenuity. 
 
 Suppose that I were to fix in my memory the dif- 
 ferent apartments in some very large building, and 
 that I had accustomed myself to think of these 
 apartments always in the same invariable order. 
 Suppose farther, that, in preparing myself for a 
 public discourse, in which I had occasion to treat of 
 a great variety of particulars, I was anxious to fix 
 
 * " Cum in l.oca aliqua post tempus reversi sumus, non ipsa 
 " agnoscimus tantum, sed etiam, qua? in his fecerimus, remi- 
 " niscimur, personajque subeunt, nonnunquam tacitse quoque 
 " cogitationes in mentem revertuntur. Nata est igitur, ut in 
 '* plerisque, ars ab experimento." 
 
 QUINCT. Inst. Oral. lib. xi. cap. 2.
 
 Sect. 6. F THE HUMAN MIND. 457 
 
 in my memory the order I proposed to observe in 
 the communication of my ideas. It is evident, that 
 by a proper division of my subject into heads, and 
 by connecting each head with aparticular apartment, 
 (which I could easily do, by conceiving myself to 
 be sitting in the apartment while I was studying the 
 part of my discourse I meant to connect with it,) 
 the habitual order in which these apartments occur- 
 red to my thoughts, would present to me, in their 
 proper 1 arrangement, and without any effort on my 
 part, the ideas of which 1 was to treat. It is also 
 obvious, that a very little practice would enable me 
 to avail myself of this contrivance, without any em* 
 barrassment or distraction of my attention.* 
 
 As to the utility of this art, it appears to me to 
 depend entirely on the particular object which we 
 suppose the speaker to have in view ; whether, as 
 was too often the case with the ancient rhetoricians, 
 to bewilder a judge, and to silence an adversary; or 
 fairly and candidly to lead an audience to the truth. 
 On the former supposition, nothing can possibly give 
 an orator a greater superiority, than the possession 
 of a secret, which, while it enables him to express 
 himself with facility and the appearance of method, 
 
 * In so far as it was the object of this species of artificial me- 
 mory to assist an orator in recollecting the plan and arrangement 
 of his discourse, the accounts of it, which are given by the ancient 
 rhetoricians are abundantly satisfactory. It appears, however, 
 that its use was more extensive ; and that it was so contrived, 
 as to facilitate the recollection of a premeditated composition. 
 In what manner this was done, it is not easy to conjecture from 
 the imperfect explanations of the art, which have been transmit- 
 ted to modern times. The reader may consult CICERO deOrat. 
 lib. ii. cap. 87,88. Rhetor, ad Herennlum t libt iii. cap. 16. et seq. 
 Inst. Oraf. lib. xi. cap. 2.
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 puts -it in his power, at the same time, to dispose his 
 arguments and his facts, in whatever order he 
 judges to be the most proper to mislead the 
 judgment, and to perplex the memory, of those 
 whom he addresses. And such, it is manifest, is 
 the effect, not only of the topical memory of the 
 ancients, but of all other contrivances which aid the 
 recollection, upon any principle different from the 
 natural and logical arrangement of our ideas. 
 
 To those, on the other hand, who speak with a 
 view to convince or to inform others, it is of conse- 
 quence that the topics which they mean to illustrate, 
 should be arranged in an order equally favourable 
 to their own recollection and to that of their hearers. 
 For this purpose, nothing is effectual, but that me- 
 thod which is suggested by the order of their own 
 investigations ; a method which leadsthe mind from 
 one idea to another, either by means of obvious and 
 striking associations, or by those relations which 
 connect the different steps of a clear and accurate 
 process of reasoning. It is thus only that the atten- 
 tion of an audience can be completely and inces- 
 santly engaged, and that the substance of a long 
 discourse can be remembered without effort. And 
 it is thus only that a speaker, after a mature consider- 
 ation of his subject, can possess a just confidence in 
 his own powers of recollection, in stating all the dif- 
 ferent premises which lead to the conclusion he 
 wishes to establish. 
 
 In modern times, such contrivances have been 
 very little, if at all, made use of by public speakers; 
 but various ingenious attempts have been made, to 
 assist the memory, in acquiring and retaining those
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 459 
 
 branches of knowledge which it has been supposed 
 necessary for a scholar to carry always about with 
 him ; and which, at the same time, from the number 
 of particular details which they involve, are not cal- 
 culated, of themselves, to make a very lasting im- 
 pression on the mind. Of this sort is the Memoria 
 Technica of Mr. Grey, in which a great deal of his- 
 torical, chronological, and geographical knowledge 
 is comprised in a set of verses, which the student is 
 supposed to make as familiar to himself as school- 
 boys do the rules of grammar. These verses are, in 
 general, a mere assemblage of proper names, dispo- 
 sed in a rude sort of measure ; some slight altera- 
 tions being occasionally made on the final syllables 
 of the words, so as to be significant (according to 
 certain principles laid down in the beginning of the 
 work) of important dates, or of other particulars 
 which it appeared to the author useful to associate 
 with the names. 
 
 I have heard very opposite opinions with respect 
 to the utility of this ingenious system. The pre- 
 vailing opinion is, I believe, against it ; although it 
 has been mentioned in terms of high approbation by 
 some writers of eminence. Dr. Priestley, whose 
 judgment, in matters of this sort, is certainly entitled 
 to respect, has said, that " it is a method so easily 
 " learned, and which maybe of so much use in recol- 
 " lecting dates, when other methods are not at hand, 
 <* that he thinks all persons of a liberal education n- 
 *' excusable, who will not take the small degree of 
 '< pains that is necessary to make themselves masters 
 v of it 5 or who think any thing mean, or unworthy
 
 460 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY chap. VL 
 
 " of their notice, which is so useful and conve- 
 " nient."* 
 
 In judging of the utility of this, or of any other 
 contrivance of the same kind, to a particular person, 
 a great deal must depend on the species of memory 
 which he has received from nature, or has acquired 
 in the course of his early education. Some men, as 
 I already remarked, (especially among those who 
 have been habitually exercised in childhood in get- 
 ting by heart grammar rules, ) have an extraordi- 
 nary facility in acquiring and retaining the most 
 barbarous and the most insignificant verses ; which 
 another person would find as difficult to remember, 
 as the geographical and chronological details of 
 which it is the object of this art to relieve the me- 
 mory. Allowing, therefore, the general utility of 
 the art, no one method, perhaps, is entitled to an 
 exclusive preference ; as one contrivance may be 
 best suited to the faculties of one person, and a 
 very different one to those of another. 
 
 One important objection applies to all of them* 
 that they accustom the mind to associate ideas by 
 accidental and arbitrary Connexions j and, therefore, 
 how much soever they may contribute, in the course 
 of conversation, to an ostentatious display of acqui- 
 red knowledge, they are, perhaps, of little real ser- 
 vice to us, when we are seriously engaged in the 
 pursuit of truth. I own, too, 1 am very doubtful 
 with respect to the utility of a great part of that in- 
 formation which they are commonly employed to 
 impress on the memory, and on which the generality* 
 of learned men are disposed to value themselves* 
 * Lectures on History, p. 157-
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 461 
 
 It certainly is of no use, but in so far as it is sub- 
 servient to the gratification of their vanity ; and the 
 acquisition of it consumes a great deal of time and 
 attention, which might have been employed in ex- 
 tending the boundaries of human knowledge. To 
 those, however, who are of a different opinion, such 
 contrivances as Mr. Grey's may be extremely use- 
 ful : and to all men they may be of service, in fix- 
 ing in the memory those insulated and uninteresting 
 particulars, which it is either necessary for them to 
 be acquainted with, from their situation ; or which 
 custom has rendered, in the common opinion, es- 
 sential branches of a liberal education. I would, 
 in particular, recommend this author's method of 
 recollecting dates, by substituting letters for 
 the numeral cyphers j and forming these letters 
 into words, and the words into verses. I have 
 found it, at least in my own case, the most effec- 
 tual of all such contrivances of which I have had 
 experience. 
 *' 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Importance of making a proper 
 Selection among the Objects of our Knowledge, in order to 
 derive Advantage from the Acquisitions of Memory. 
 
 THE cultivatioa of Memory, with all the helps that 
 we can derive to it from art, will be of little use to 
 us, unless we make a proper selection of the par- 
 ticulars to be remembered. Such a selection is 
 necessary to enable us to profit by reading ; and still 
 more so, to enable us to profit by observation, to 
 which every man is indebted for by far the most 
 valuable part of his knowledge.
 
 462 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI.' 
 
 When we first enter on any new literary pursuit, 
 we commonly find our efforts of attention painful 
 and unsatisfactory. We have no discrimination in 
 our curiosity ; and by grasping at every thing, we 
 fail in making those moderate acquisitions which 
 are suited to our limited faculties. As our know- 
 ledge extends, we learn to know what particulars 
 are likely to be of use to us ; and acquire a habit 
 of directing our examination to these, without dis- 
 tracting the attention with others. It is partly 
 owing to a similar circumstance, that most readers 
 complain of a defect of memory, when they first 
 enter on the study of history. They cannot sepa- 
 rate important from trifling facts, and find them- 
 selves unable to retain any thing, from their anxiety 
 to secure the whole. 
 
 In order to give a proper direction to our atten- 
 tion in the course of our studies, it is useful, before 
 engaging in particular pursuits, to acquire as fami- 
 liar an acquaintance as possible with the great out- 
 lines of the different branches of science ; with the 
 most important conclusions, which have hitherto 
 been formed in them, and with the most important 
 desiderata which remain to be supplied. In the case 
 too of those parts of knowledge, which are not yet 
 ripe for the formation of philosophical systems, it 
 may be of use to study the various hypothetical 
 theories which have been proposed for connecting 
 together and arranging the phenomena. By such 
 general views alone we can prevent ourselves from 
 being lost, amidst a labyrinth of particulars, or can 
 engage in a course of extensive and various read- 
 ing, with an enlightened and discriminating atten- 
 2
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 463 
 
 tion. While they withdraw our notice from bar- 
 ren and insulated facts, they direct it to such as 
 tend to illustrate principles which have either been 
 already established, or which, from having that de- 
 gree of connexion among themselves, which is 
 necessary to give plausibility to a hypothetical 
 theory are likely to furnish, 'in time, the materials 
 of a juster system. 
 
 Some of the followers of Lord Bacon have, 1 
 think, been led, in their zeal for the method of in- 
 duction, to censure hypothetical theories with too 
 great a degree of severity. Such theories have cer- 
 tainly been frequently of use, in putting philoso- 
 phers upon the road of discovery. Indeed, it has 
 probably been in this way, that most discoveries 
 have been made j for although a knowledge of facts 
 must be prior to the formation of a just theory, yet 
 a hypothetical theory is generally our best guide to 
 the knowledge of useful facts. If a man, without 
 forming to himself any conjecture concerning the 
 unknown laws of nature, were to set himself merely 
 to accumulate facts at random, he might, perhaps, 
 stumble upon some important discovery j but by far 
 the greater part of his labours would be wholly use 
 less. Every philosophical inquirer, before he be- 
 gins a set of experiments, has some general prin- 
 ciple in his view, which he suspects to be a law of 
 nature* : and although his conjectures maybe often 
 
 * " Recte siquidem Plato, " Qui aliquid quaerit, id ipsum, 
 " quod quaerit, generali quadam notione comprehendit : aliter, 
 " qui fieri potest, ut illud, cum fuerit inventura, agnoscat?" 
 " Idcirco quo amplior et certior fuerit anticipatio nostra ; eo 
 " magis dirccta et coropendiosa erit investigatio." 
 
 DC Aug. Scicnt, lib. v. cap. 3.
 
 4.64 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI, 
 
 wrong, yet they serve to give his inquiries a par- 
 ticular direction, and to bring under his eye a 
 number of facts which have a certain relation to 
 each other. It has been often remarked, that the 
 attempts to discover the philosopher's stone, and 
 the quadrature of the circle, have led to many use- 
 ful discoveries in chemistry and mathematics. And 
 they have plainly done so, merely by limiting the 
 field of observation and inquiry, and checking that 
 indiscriminate and desultory attention which is so 
 natural to an indolent mind. A hypothetical theory, 
 however erroneous, may answer a similar purpose. 
 " Prudens interrogatio," (says Lord Bacon,) " est 
 " dimidium scientise. Vaga enim experientia et 
 " se tantum sequens mera palpatio est, et homines 
 " potius stupefacit quam informat." What, in- 
 deed, are Newton's queries, but so many hypotheses 
 which are proposed as subjects of examination to 
 philosophers ? And did not even the great doctrine 
 of gravitation take its first rise from a fortunate con- 
 jecture ? 
 
 While, therefore, we maintain, with the followers 
 of Bacon, that no theory is to be admitted as proved, 
 any farther than it is supported by facts, we should, 
 at the same time, acknowledge our obligations to 
 those writers who hazard their conjectures to the 
 world with modesty and diffidence. And it may 
 not be improper to add, that men of a systematizing 
 turn are not now so useless as formerly ; for we are 
 already possessed of a great stock of facts ; and 
 there is scarcely any theory so bad as not to bring 
 together a number of particulars which have a cer- 
 tain degree of relation or analogy to each other.
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE .HUMAN MIND. 4<G5 
 
 The foregoing remarks are applicable to all our 
 various studies j whether they are conducted in the 
 way of reading, or of observation. From neither of 
 these two sources of information can we hope to de- 
 rive much advantage, unless we have some general 
 principles to direct our attention to proper objects. 
 
 With respect to observation, some farther cautions 
 may be useful ; for in guarding against an indiscri- 
 minate accumulation of particulars, it is possible to 
 fall into the opposite extreme, and to acquire a 
 habit of inattention to the phenomena which present 
 themselves to our senses. The former is the error 
 of men of little education ; the latter is more com- 
 mon among men of retirement and study. 
 
 One of the chief effects of a liberal education, is 
 to enable us to withdraw the attention from the 
 present objects of our perceptions, and to dwell at 
 pleasure on the past, the absent, or the future. 
 But when we are led to carry these efforts to an ex- 
 cess, either from a warm and romantic imagination, 
 or from an anxious and sanguine temper, it is easy 
 to see that the power of observation is likely to be 
 weakened, and habits of inattention to be con- 
 tracted. The same effect may be produced by too 
 early an indulgence in philosophical pursuits, be- 
 fore the mind has been prepared for the study of 
 general truths, by exercising its faculties among 
 particular objects, and particular occurrences. In 
 this way, it contracts an aversion to the examin- 
 ation of details, from the pleasure which it has ex- 
 perienced in the contemplation or in the discovery 
 of general principles. Both of these turns of thought, 
 however, presuppose a certain degree of observ* 
 
 H H
 
 466 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 ation ; for the materials of imagination are supplied 
 by the senses ; and the general truths which occupy 
 the philosopher, would be wholly unintelligible to 
 him, if he was a total stranger to all experience 
 with respect to the course of nature and of human 
 life. The observations, indeed, which are made by 
 men of a warm imagination, are likely to be inac- 
 curate and fallacious ; and those of the speculative 
 philosopher are frequently carried no farther than is 
 necessary to enable him to comprehend the terms 
 which relate to the subjects of his reasoning ; but 
 both the one and the other must have looked abroad 
 occasionally at nature, and at the world ; if not to 
 ascertain facts by actual examination, at least to 
 store their minds with ideas. 
 
 The metaphysician, whose attention is directed 
 to the faculties and operations of the mind, is the 
 only man who possesses within himself the materials 
 of his speculations and reasonings. It is accord- 
 ingly among this class of literary men, that habits 
 of inattention to things external have been carried 
 to the greatest extreme. 
 
 It is observed by Dr. Reid, that the power of re- 
 flexion, (by which he means the power of attending 
 to the subjects of our consciousness,) is the last of 
 our intellectual faculties which unfolds itself 5 and 
 that in the greater part of mankind it never unfolds 
 itself at all. It is a power, indeed, which being sub- 
 servient merely to the gratification of metaphysical 
 curiosity, it is not essentially necessary for us to 
 possess, in any considerable degree. The power 
 of observation, on the other hand, which is ne- 
 cessary for the preservation even of our animal
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 467 
 
 existence, discovers itself in infants long before 
 they attain the use of speech ; or rather I should 
 have said, as soon as they come into the world : 
 and where nature is allowed free scope, it continues 
 active and vigorous through life. It was plainly 
 the intention of nature, that in infancy and youth 
 it should occupy the mind almost exclusively, and 
 that we should acquire all our necessary informa- 
 tion before engaging in speculations which are less 
 essential : and accordingly this is the history of the 
 intellectual progress, in by far the greater number 
 of individuals. In consequence of this, the diffi- 
 culty of metaphysical researches is undoubtedly 
 much increased ; for the mind being constantly oc- 
 cupied in the earlier part of life about the pro- 
 perties and laws of matter, acquires habits of 
 inattention to the subjects of consciousness, which 
 are not to be surmounted, without a degree of 
 patience and perseverance of which few men are 
 capable : but the inconvenience would evidently 
 have been greatly increased, if the order of nature 
 had, in this respect, been reversed, and if the 
 curiosity had been excited at as early a period, by 
 the phenomena of the intellectual world, as by those 
 of the material. Of what would have happened on 
 this supposition, we may form a judgment from 
 those men who, in consequence of an excessive in- 
 dulgence in metaphysical pursuits, have weakened, 
 to an unnatural degree, their capacity of attending 
 to external objects and occurrences. Few meta- 
 physicians, perhaps, are to be found, who are not 
 deficient in the power of observation ; for, although 
 a taste for such abstract speculations is far from 
 
 H H 9
 
 468 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 being common, it is more apt, perhaps, than any 
 other, when it has once been formed, to take an 
 exclusive hold of the mind, and to shut up the other 
 sources of intellectual improvement. As the me- 
 taphysician carries within himself the materials of 
 his reasoning, he is not under a necessity of looking 
 abroad for subjects of speculation or amusement ; 
 and unless he be very careful to guard against the 
 effects of his favourite pursuits, he is in more 
 danger than literary men of any other denomin- 
 ation, to lose all interest about the common and 
 proper objects of human curiosity. 
 
 To prevent any danger from this quarter, I ap- 
 prehend that the study of the mind should form the 
 last branch of the education of youth ; an order 
 which nature herself seems to point out, by what I 
 have already remarked, with respect to the deve- 
 lopement of' our faculties. After the understanding 
 is well stored with particular facts, and has been 
 conversant with particular scientific pursuits, it will 
 be enabled to speculate concerning its own powers 
 with additional advantage, and will run no hazard 
 of indulging too far in such inquiries. Nothing 
 can be more absurd, on this as well as on many 
 other accounts, than the common practice which is 
 followed in our universities, of beginning a course 
 of philosophical education with the study of logic. 
 If this order were completely reversed ; and if the 
 study of logic were delayed till after the mind of 
 the student was well stored with particular facts in 
 physics, in chemistry, in natural and civil history ; 
 his attention might be led with the most important 
 advantage, and without any danger to his power of
 
 Sect. 7. OF THE HUMAN :>IIND. 
 
 observation, to an examination of his own faculties; 
 which, besides opening to him a new and pleasing 
 field of speculation, would enable him to form an 
 estimate of his own powers, of the acquisitions he 
 has made, of the habits he has formed, and of the 
 farther improvements of which his mind is sus- 
 ceptible. 
 
 In general, wherever habits of inattention, and an 
 incapacity of observation, are very remarkable, they 
 will be found to have arisen from some defect in 
 early education. I already remarked, that, when 
 nature is allowed free scope, the curiosity, during 
 early youth, is alive to every external object, and 
 to every external occurrence, while the powers of 
 imagination and reflexion do not display themselves 
 till a much later period ; the former till about the 
 age of puberty, and the latter till we approach to 
 manhood. It sometimes, however, happens that, 
 in consequence of a peculiar disposition of mind, or 
 of an infirm bodily constitution, a child is led to 
 seek amusement from books, and to lose a relish 
 for those recreations which are suited to his age. 
 In such instances, the ordinary progress of the in- 
 tellectual powers is prematurely quickened ; but 
 that best of all educations is lost, which nature has 
 prepared both for the philosopher and the man of 
 the world, amidst the active sports and the hazard- 
 ous adventures of childhood. It is from these alone, 
 that we can acquire, not only that force of charac- 
 ter which is suited to the more arduous situations 
 of life, but that complete and prompt command of 
 attention to things external, without which the 
 highest endowments of the understanding, however 
 
 HH 3
 
 4-70 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 they may fit a man for the solitary speculations of 
 the closet, are but of little use in the practice of 
 affairs, or for enabling him to profit by his personal 
 experience. 
 
 Where, however, such habits of inattention have 
 unfortunately been contracted, we ought not to de- 
 spair of them as perfectly incurable. The atten- 
 tion, indeed, as I formerly remarked, can seldom 
 be forced in particular instances ; but we may gra- 
 dually learn to place the objects we wish to attend 
 to, in lights more interesting than those in which 
 we have been accustomed to view them. Much 
 may be expected from a change of scene, and a 
 change of pursuits ; but above all, much may be 
 expected from foreign travel. The objects which 
 we meet with excite our surprise by their novelty ; 
 and in this manner we not only gradually acquire 
 the power of observing and examining them with 
 attention, but, from the effects of contrast, the 
 curiosity comes to be roused with respect to the 
 corresponding objects in our own country, which, 
 from our early familiarity with them, we had for- 
 merly been accustomed to overlook. In this re- 
 spect the effects of foreign travel, in directing the 
 attention to familiar objects and occurrences, is 
 somewhat analogous to that which the study of a 
 dead or of a foreign language produces, in leading 
 the curiosity to examine the grammatical structure 
 of our own. 
 
 Considerable advantage may also be derived, in 
 overcoming the habits of inattention, which we may 
 have contracted to particular subjects, from study- 
 ing the systems, true or false, which philosophers
 
 Sect. 8. . OF THE HUMAN MIND. 471 
 
 have proposed for explaining or for arranging the 
 facts connected with them. By means of these 
 systems, not only is the curiosity circumscribed 
 and directed, instead of being allowed to wander 
 at random, but, in consequence of our being en- 
 abled to connect facts with general principles, it 
 becomes interested in the examination of those 
 particulars which would otherwise have escaped 
 our notice. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Of the Connexion between Memory and philosophical Genius. 
 
 IT is commonly supposed, that genius is seldom 
 united with a very tenacious memory. So far, 
 however, as my own observation has reached, I can 
 scarcely recollect one person who possesses the for- 
 mer of these qualities, without a more than ordi- 
 nary share of the latter. 
 
 On a superficial view of the subject, indeed, the 
 common opinion has some appearance of truth ; for, 
 we are naturally led, in consequence of the topics 
 about which conversation is usually employed, to 
 estimate the extent of memory, by the impression 
 which trivial occurrences make upon it : and these 
 in general escape the recollection of a man of abi- 
 lity, not because he is unable to retain them, but 
 because he does not attend to them. It is pro- 
 bable, likewise, that accidental associations, founded 
 on contiguity in time and place, may make but a 
 slight impression on his mind. But it does not 
 therefore follow, that his stock of facts is small. 
 They are connected together in his memory by 
 H H 4>
 
 472 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 principles of association, different from those which 
 prevail in ordinary minds ; and they are on that 
 very account the more useful : for as the associ- 
 ations are founded upon real connexions among 
 the ideas, (although they may be less conducive 
 to the fluency, and perhaps to the wit of convers- 
 ation,) they are of incomparably greater use in 
 suggesting facts which are to serve as a foundation 
 for reasoning or for invention. 
 
 It frequently happens too, that a man of genius, 
 in consequence of a peculiarly strong attachment to 
 a particular subject, may first feel a want of inclin- 
 ation, and may afterwards acquire a want of capa- 
 city of attending to common occurrences. But it 
 is probable that the whole stock of ideas in his mind, 
 is not inferior to that of other men ; and that how- 
 ever unprofitably he may have directed his curi- 
 osity, the ignorance which he discovers on ordinary 
 subjects does not arise from a want of memory, but 
 from a peculiarity in the selection which he has 
 made of the objects of his study. 
 
 Montaigne* frequently complains in his writings, 
 of his want of memory ; and he indeed gives many 
 very extraordinary instances of his ignorance on 
 some of the most ordinary topics of information. 
 But it is obvious to any person who reads his works 
 with attention, that this ignorance did not proceed 
 from an original defect of memory, but from the 
 singular and whimsical direction which his curiosity 
 
 * II n'est homme &. qui il siese si mal de se mesler de parler 
 de memoire. Car je n'en recognoy quasi trace en moy ; et ne 
 pense qu'il y en ait au rnonde une autre si marveilleuse en defail- 
 lance. Essais de MONTAIGNE, liv. i. ch. 9.
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 had taken at an early period of life. " I can do 
 nothing," says he, " without my memorandum 
 " book ; and so great is my difficulty in remem- 
 " bering proper names, that I am forced to call my 
 " domestic servants by their offices. I am igno- 
 " rant of the greater part of our coins in use ; of 
 " the difference of one grain from another, both 
 " in the earth and in the granary ; what use leaven 
 " is of in making bread, and why wine must stand 
 " some time in the vat before it ferments." Yet the 
 same author appears evidently, from his writings, to 
 have had his memory stored with an infinite variety 
 of apophthegms, and of 'historical passages, which 
 had struck his imagination ; and to have been fami- 
 liarly acquainted, not only with the names, but with 
 the absurd and exploded opinions of the ancient 
 philosophers ; with the ideas of Plato, the atoms of 
 Epicurus, the plenum and vacuum of Leucippus 
 and Democritus, the water of Thales, the numbers 
 of Pythagoras, the infinite of Parmenides, and the 
 unity of Musaeus. In complaining too of his want 
 of presence of mind, he indirectly acknowledges a 
 degree of memory, which, if it had been judiciously 
 employed, would have been more than sufficient for 
 the acquisition of all those common branches of 
 knowledge in which he appears to have been de- 
 ficient. " When I have an oration to speak," says 
 he, " of any considerable length, I am reduced to 
 " the miserable necessity of getting it, word for 
 " word, by heart." 
 
 The strange and apparently inconsistent combi- 
 nation of knowledge and ignorance which the 
 writings of Montaigne exhibit, led Malebranche
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 (who seems to have formed too low an opinion both 
 of his genius and character) to tax him with affect- 
 ation j and even to call in question the credibility 
 of some of his assertions. But no one who is well 
 acquainted with this most amusing author, can rea- 
 sonably suspect his veracity ; and, in the present 
 instance, I can give him complete credit, not only 
 from my general opinion of his sincerity, but from 
 having observed, in the course of my own expe- 
 rience, more than one example of the same sort of 
 combination ; not indeed carried to such a length 
 as Montaigne describes, but bearing a striking re- 
 semblance to it. 
 
 The observations which have already been made, 
 account, in part, for the origin of the common opi- 
 nion, that genius and memory are seldom united in 
 great degrees in the same person ; and at the same 
 time shew, that some of the facts on which that 
 opinion is founded, do not justify such a conclusion. 
 Besides these, however, there are other circum- 
 stances, which at first view, seem rather to indicate 
 an inconsistency between extensive memory and 
 original genius. 
 
 The species of memory which excites the greatest 
 degree of admiration in the ordinary intercourse of 
 society, is a memory for detached and insulated 
 facts ; and it is certain that those men who are 
 possessed of it, are very seldom distinguished by 
 the higher gifts of the mind. Such a species of 
 memory is unfavourable to philosophical arrange- 
 ment ; because it in part supplies the place of 
 arrangement* One great use of philosophy, as 
 I already shewed, is to give us an extensive com-
 
 g ec t. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 mand of particular truths, by furnishing us with 
 general principles, under which a number of such 
 truths is comprehended, A person in whose mind 
 casual associations of time and place make a lasting 
 impression, has not the same inducements to phi- 
 losophize, with others who connect facts together, 
 chiefly by the relations of cause and effect, or of 
 premises and conclusion. I have heard it observed, 
 that those men who have risen to the greatest emi- 
 nence in the profession of law, have been in ge- 
 neral such as had at first, an aversion to the study. 
 The reason probably is, that to a mind fond of 
 general principles, every study must be at first dis- 
 gusting, which presents to it a chaos of facts appa- 
 rently unconnected with each other. But this love 
 of arrangement, if united with persevering industry, 
 will at last conquer every difficulty ; will introduce 
 order into what seemed on a superficial view a mass 
 of confusion, and reduce the dry and uninteresting 
 detail of positive statutes into a system compara- 
 tively luminous and beautiful. 
 
 The observation, I believe, may be made more 
 general, and may be applied to every science in 
 which there is a great multiplicity of facts to be re- 
 membered. A man destitute of genius may, with 
 little effort, treasure up in his memory a number of 
 particulars in chemistry or natural history, which he 
 refers to no principle, and from which he deduces 
 no conclusion ; and from his facility in acquiring 
 this stock of information, may flatter himself 
 with the belief that he possesses a natural taste 
 for these branches of knowledge. But they who 
 are really destined to extend the boundaries of
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 science, when they first enter on new pursuits, feel 
 their attention distracted, and their memory over- 
 loaded with facts among which they can trace no 
 relation, and are sometimes apt to despair entirely 
 of their future progress. In due time, however, 
 their superiority appears, and arises in part from that 
 very dissatisfaction which they at first experienced, 
 and which does not cease to stimulate their in- 
 quiries, till they are enabled to trace, amidst a chaos 
 of apparently unconnected materials, that simplicity 
 and beauty which always characterise the operations 
 of nature. 
 
 There are, besides, other circumstances which 
 retard the progress of a man of genius, when he 
 enters on a new pursuit, and which sometimes 
 render him apparently inferior to those who are 
 possessed of ordinary capacity. A want of curi- 
 osity*, and of invention, facilitates greatly the 
 acquisition of knowledge. It renders the mind 
 passive, in receiving the ideas of others, and saves 
 all the time which might be employed in examining 
 their foundation, or in tracing their consequences. 
 They who are possessed of much acuteness and 
 originality, enter with difficulty into the views of 
 others ; not from any defect in their power of ap- 
 prehension, but because they cannot adopt opinions 
 which they have not examined ; and because their 
 attention is often seduced by their own speculations. 
 
 It is not merely in the acquisition of knowledge 
 that a man of genius is likely to find himself sur- 
 
 * I mean a want of curiosity about truth. *' There are many 
 " men," says Dr. Butler, " who have a strong curiosity to know 
 " what is said, who have little or no curiosity to know what is 
 " true."
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 477 
 
 passed by others: he has commonly his information 
 much less at command, than those who are possessed 
 of an inferior degree of originality ; and, what is 
 somewhat remarkable, he has it least of all at com- 
 mand on those subjects on which he has found his 
 invention most fertile. Sir Isaac Newton, as we are 
 told by Dr. Pemberton, was often at a loss, when 
 the conversation turned on his own discoveries.* 
 It is probable that they made but a slight impression 
 on his mind, and that a consciousness of his in- 
 ventive powers prevented him from taking much 
 pains to treasure them up in his memory. Men of 
 little ingenuity seldom forget the ideas they acquire; 
 because they know that when an occasion occurs 
 for applying their knowledge to use, they must 
 trust to memory and not to invention. Explain an 
 arithmetical rule to a person of common understand- 
 ing, who is unacquainted with the principles of the 
 science; he will soon get the rule by heart, and be- 
 come dexterous in the application of it. Another 
 of more ingenuity, will examine the principle of the 
 rule before he applies it to use, and will scarcely 
 take the trouble to commit to memory a process 
 which he knows he can, at any time, with a little 
 reflexion, recover. The consequence will be, that, 
 in the practice of calculation, he will appear more 
 slow and hesitating, than if he followed the received 
 rules of arithmetic without reflexion or reasoning. 
 Something of the same kind happens every day in 
 conversation. By far the greater part of the opini- 
 ons we announce in it, are not the immediate result 
 of reasoning on the spot, but have been previously 
 See Note [T].
 
 478 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI- 
 
 formed in the closet, or perhaps have been adopted 
 implicitly on the authority of others. The promp- 
 titude, therefore, with which a man decides in ordi- 
 nary discourse, is not a certain test of the quickness 
 of his apprehension * ; as it may perhaps arise from 
 those uncommon efforts to furnish the memory with 
 acquired knowledge, by which men of slow parts 
 endeavour to compensate for their want of inven- 
 tion ; while, on the other hand, it is possible that 
 a consciousness of originality may give rise to a man- 
 ner apparently embarrassed, by leading the person 
 who feels it, to trust too much to extempore 
 exertions.t 
 
 In general, I believe, it may be laid down as a 
 rule, that those who carry about with them a great 
 degree of acquired information, which they have 
 always at command, or who have rendered their 
 own discoveries so familiar to them, as always to be 
 
 * Memoria facit prompt! ingenii famam, ut ilia quae diciraus, 
 non domo attulisse, sed ibi protinus sumpsisse videamur. 
 
 QUINCTIL. Inst. Orat. lib. xi. cap. 2. 
 
 f In the foregoing observations it is not meant to be implied, 
 that originality of genius is incompatible with a ready recollec- 
 tion of acquired knowledge ; but only that it has a tendency un- 
 favourable to it, and that more time and practice will commonly 
 be necessary to familiarize the mind of a man of invention to the 
 ideas of others, or even to the conclusions of his own understand, 
 ing, than are requisite in ordinary cases. Habits of literary 
 conversation, and still more, habits of extempore discussion, in 
 a popular assembly, are peculiarly useful in giving us a ready 
 and practical command of our knowledge. There is much good 
 sense in the following aphorism of Bacon : " Reading makes a 
 "full man, writing a correct man, and speaking a ready man." 
 See a commentary on this aphorism in one of the Numbers of 
 the Adventurer.
 
 Sect. 8. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 479 
 
 in a condition to explain them, without recollection, 
 are very seldom possessed of much invention, or even 
 of much quickness of apprehension. A man of ori- 
 ginal genius, who is fond of exercising his reasoning 
 powers anew on every point as it occurs to him, and 
 who cannot submit to rehearse the ideas of others, 
 or to repeat by rote the conclusions which he has 
 deduced from previous reflexion, often appears, to 
 superficial observers, to fall below the level of ordi- 
 nary understandings ; while another, destitute both 
 of quickness and invention, is admired for that 
 promptitude in his decisions, which arises from the 
 inferiority of his intellectual abilities. ; 
 
 It must indeed be acknowledged in favour of the 
 last description of men, that in ordinary convers- 
 ation they form the most agreeable, and perhaps the 
 most instructive companions. How inexhaustible 
 soever the invention of an individual may be, the 
 variety of his own peculiar ideas can bear no pro- 
 portion to the whole mass of useful and curious in- 
 formation of which the world is already possessed. 
 The conversation, accordingly, of men of genius, is 
 sometimes extremely limited ; and is interesting to 
 the few alone, who know the value, and who can 
 distinguish the marks of originality. In consequence 
 too of that partiality which every man feels for his 
 own speculations, they are more in danger of being 
 dogmatical and disputatious, than those who have 
 no system which they are interested to defend. 
 
 The same observations may be applied to authors. 
 A book which contains the discoveries of one indi- 
 vidual only, may be admired by a few, who are 
 intimately acquainted with the history of the
 
 480 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VI. 
 
 science to which it relates, but it has little 
 chance for popularity with the multitude. An au- 
 thor who possesses industry sufficient to collect the 
 ideas of others, and judgment sufficient to arrange 
 them skilfully, is the most likely person to acquire 
 a high degree of literary fame : and although, in 
 the opinion of enlightened judges, invention forms 
 the chief characteristic of genius, yet it commonly 
 happens that the objects of public admiration are 
 men who are much less distinguished by this quality, 
 than by extensive learning and cultivated taste. 
 Perhaps too, for the multitude, the latter class of 
 authors is the most useful ; as their writings contain 
 the more solid discoveries which others have brought 
 to light, separated from those errors with which 
 truth is often blended in the first formation of a 
 system.
 
 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 481 
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 Of Imagination. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Analysis of Imagination. 
 
 IN attempting to draw the line between Conception 
 and Imagination, I have already observed, that the 
 province of the former is to present us with an, ex- 
 act transcript of what we have formerly felt and per- 
 ceived ; that of the latter, to make a selection of 
 qualities and of circumstances from a variety of dif- 
 ferent objects, and by combining and disposing 
 these, to form a new creation of its own. 
 
 According to the definitions adopted, in general, 
 by modern philosophers, the province of Imagin- 
 ation would appear to be limited to objects of sight. 
 " It is the sense of sight," (says Mr. Addison,) 
 " which furnishes the Imagination with its ideas ; 
 " so that by the pleasures of Imagination, I here 
 " mean such as arise from visible objects, either 
 " when we have them actually in view, or when we 
 " call up their ideas into our minds, by paintings, 
 " statues, descriptions, or any the like occasions. 
 " We cannot, indeed, have a single image in the 
 " fancy, that did not make its first entrance through 
 " the sight." Agreeably to the same view of the 
 subject, Dr. Reid observes, that " Imagination 
 " properly signifies a lively conception of objects 
 
 i i
 
 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " of sight ; the former power being distinguished 
 ** from the latter, as a part from the whole." 
 
 That this limitation of the province of Imagin- 
 ation to one particular class of our perceptions is al- 
 together arbitrary, seems to me to be evident j for, 
 although the greater part of the materials which 
 Imagination combines be supplied by this sense, it 
 is nevertheless indisputable, that our other percep- 
 tive faculties also contribute occasionally their 
 share. How many pleasing images have been bor- 
 rowed from the fragrance of the fields and the me- 
 lody of the groves j not to mention that sister art, 
 whose magical influence over the human frame, it 
 has been, in all ages, the highest boast of poetry to 
 celebrate! In the following passage, even the 
 more gross sensations of Taste form the subject of 
 an ideal repast, on which it is impossible not to 
 dwell with some complacency ; particularly after 
 a perusal of the preceding lines, in which the 
 Poet describes " the Wonders of the Torrid 
 Zone." 
 
 " Bear me, Pomona ! to thy citron groves ; 
 To where the lemon and the piercing lime, 
 With the deep orange, glowing through the green, 
 Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'd 
 Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes, 
 Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit : 
 Or stretch'd amid these orchards of the sun, 
 O let me drain the cocoa's milky bowl, 
 More bounteous far than all the frantic juice 
 Which Bacchus pours ! Nor, on its slender twigs 
 Low bending, be the full. pomegranate scorn 'd; 
 Nor, creeping through the woods, the gelid race 
 Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells 
 Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp.
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4S3 
 
 Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride 
 Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er 
 The poets iniag'd in the golden age : 
 Quick let me strip thee of thy spiny coat, 
 Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove !" * 
 j 
 
 What an assemblage of other conceptions differ- 
 ent from all those hitherto mentioned, has the genius 
 of Virgil combined in one distich ! 
 
 " Hie gelidi fontes, hie mollia prata, Lycori, 
 Hie nemus : hie ipso tecum consumerer aevo." 
 
 These observations are sufficient to shew, how 
 inadequate a notion of the province of Imagination 
 (considered even in its reference to the sensible 
 world) is conveyed by the definitions of Mr. Addi- 
 son and of Dr. Reid. But the sensible world, it 
 must be remembered, is not the only field where 
 Imagination exerts her powers. All the objects of 
 human knowledge supply materials to her forming 
 hand; diversifying infinitely the works she pro- 
 duces, while the mode of her operation remains es- 
 sentially uniform. As it is the same power of Rea- 
 soning which enables us to carry on our investigations 
 with respect to individual objects, and with respect 
 to classes or genera ; so it was by the same pro- 
 cesses of Analysis and Combination, that the ge- 
 nius of Milton produced the Garden of Eden j that 
 of Harrington, the Commonwealth of Oceana ; and 
 that of Shakespeare, the characters of Hamlet and 
 Falstaff. The difference between these several 
 efforts of invention, consists only in the manner in 
 
 * Thomson's Summer. 
 II 2
 
 4-84 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 which the original materials were acquired ; as far as 
 the power of Imagination is concerned, the processes 
 are perfectly analogous. 
 
 The attempts of Mr. Addison and of Dr. Reid to 
 limit the province of Imagination to objects of sight, 
 liave plainly proceeded from a very important fact, 
 which it may be worth while to illustrate more par- 
 ticularly ; That the mind has a greater facility, 
 and, of consequence, a greater delight in recalling 
 the perceptions of this sense than those of any of 
 the others ; while, at the same time, the variety of 
 qualities perceived by it is incomparably greater. 
 It is this sense, accordingly, which supplies the 
 painter and the statuary with all the subjects on 
 which their genius is exercised; and which furnishes 
 to the descriptive poet the largest and the most va- 
 luable portion of the materials which he combines. 
 In that absurd species of prose composition, too, 
 which borders on poetry, nothing is more remark- 
 able than the predominance of phrases that recal to 
 the memory, glaring colours, and those splendid ap- 
 pearances of nature, which make a strong impres- 
 sion on the eye. It has been mentioned by different 
 writers, as a characteristical circumstance in the 
 Oriental or Asiatic style, that the greater part of the 
 metaphors are taken from the celestial luminaries. 
 " The Works of the Persians," (says M. de Vol- 
 taire,) " are like the titles of their kings, in which 
 " we are perpetually dazzled with the sun and the 
 " moon." Sir William Jones, in a short Essay on 
 the Poetry of Eastern Nations, has endeavoured to 
 shew, that this is not owing to the bad taste of the 
 Asiatics, but to the old language and popular reli- 
 
 9
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 gion of their country. But the truth is, that the 
 very same criticism will be found to apply to the 
 juvenile productions of every author possessed of a 
 warm imagination ; and to the compositions of every 
 people among whom a cultivated and philosophical 
 taste has not established a sufficiently marked dis- 
 tinction between the appropriate styles of poetry and 
 of prose. The account given by the Abbe Girard 
 of the meaning of the word Phebus, as employed by 
 the French critics, confirms strongly this observa- 
 tion. " Le Phebus a un brillant qui signifie, ou 
 " semble signifier quelque chose : le soleil y entre 
 " d'ordinaire ; & c'est peut-etre ce qui, en notre 
 " langue, a donne lieu au nom de Phebus" * 
 
 Agreeably to these principles, Gray, in describing 
 the infantine reveries of poetical genius, has fixed> 
 with exquisite judgment, on this class of our con- 
 ceptions : 
 
 Yet oft before his infant eye would run 
 Such Forms as glitter in the Muse's ray 
 With Orient hues 
 
 From these remarks it may be easily understood, 
 why the word Imagination, in its most ordinary ac- 
 ceptation, should be applied to cases where our con- 
 ceptions are derived from the sense of sight; al- 
 though the province of this power be, in fact, as 
 unlimited as the sphere of human enjoyment and of 
 human thought. Hence, the origin of those partial 
 definitions which I have been attempting to correct; 
 and hence too, the origin of the word Imagination^ 
 the etymology of which implies manifestly a refer- 
 ence to visible objects. 
 
 * Synonymes Fra^ois. 
 ii 3
 
 486 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 To all the various modes in which Imagination 
 may display itself, the greater part of the remarks 
 contained in this Chapter will be found to apply, 
 under proper limitations ; but, in order to render 
 the subject more obvious to the reader's examin- 
 ation, I shall, in the farther prosecution of it, en- 
 deavour to convey my ideas, rather by means of 
 particular examples, than in the form of general prin- 
 ciples j leaving it to his own judgment to determine, 
 with what modifications the conclusions to which we 
 are led, may be extended to other combinations of 
 circumstances. 
 
 Among the innumerable phenomena which this 
 part of our constitution presents to our examin- 
 ation, the combinations which the mind forms out 
 of materials supplied by the power of Conception 
 recommend themselves strongly, both by their sim- 
 plicity, and by the interesting nature of the discuss- 
 ions to which they lead. I shall avail myself, there- 
 fore, as much as possible, in the following inquiries, 
 of whatever illustrations I am able to borrow from 
 the arts of Poetry and of Painting j the operations 
 of Imagination in these arts furnishing the most in- 
 telligible and pleasing exemplifications of the intel- 
 lectual processes, by which, in those analogous but 
 less palpable instances that fall under the consider- 
 ation of the Moralist, the mind deviates from the 
 models presented to it by experience, and forms to 
 itself, new and untried objects of pursuit. It is in 
 consequence of such processes (which, how little 
 soever they may be attended to, are habitually 
 passing in the thoughts of all men,) that human
 
 Sect. 1. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 487 
 
 affairs exhibit so busy and so various a scene ; tend- 
 ing, in one case, to improvement, and, in another, 
 to decline ; according as our notions of excellence 
 and of happiness are just or erroneous. 
 
 It was observed, in a former part of this work, 
 that Imagination is a complex power. * It includes 
 Conception or simple Apprehension, which enables 
 us to form a notion of those former objects of per- 
 ception, or of knowledge, out of which we are to 
 make a selection ; Abstraction, which separates the 
 selected materials from the qualities and circum- 
 stances which are connected with them in nature j 
 and Judgment or Taste, which selects the materials, 
 and directs their combination. To these powers, 
 we may add, that particular habit of association to 
 which I formerly gave the name of Fancy ; as it is 
 this which presents to our choice, all the different 
 materials which are subservient to the efforts of Ima- 
 gination, and which may therefore be considered 
 as forming the ground-work of poetical genius. 
 
 To illustrate these observations, let us consider 
 the steps by which Milton must have proceeded in 
 creating his imaginary Garden of Eden. When he 
 first proposed to himself that subject of description, 
 it is reasonable to suppose, that a variety of the most 
 striking scenes which he had seen, crowded into his 
 mind. The association of ideas suggested them, and 
 the power of Conception placed each of them before 
 him with all its beauties and imperfections. In 
 every natural scene, if we destine it for any par- 
 ticular purpose, there are defects and redundancies, 
 
 * See p. 136. 
 I I 4
 
 488 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VIL 
 
 which art may sometimes, but cannot always, cor- 
 rect. But the power of Imagination is unlimited. 
 She can create and annihilate; and dispose, at 
 pleasure, her woods, her rocks, and her rivers. 
 Milton, accordingly, would not copy his Eden from 
 any one scene, but would select from each the fea- 
 tures which were most eminently beautiful. The 
 power of Abstraction enabled him to make the 
 separation, and Taste directed him in the selection. 
 Thus he was furnished with his materials ; by a 
 skilful combination of which, he has created a land- 
 scape, more perfect probably in all its parts, than 
 was ever realised in nature ; and certainly very dif- 
 ferent from any thing which this country exhibited, 
 at the period when he wrote. It is a curious re- 
 mark of Mr. Walpole, that Milton's Eden is free 
 from the defects of the old English garden, and is 
 imagined on the same principles which it was re- 
 served for the present age to carry into execution. 
 From what has been said, it is sufficiently evident, 
 that Imagination is not a simple power of the mind, 
 like Attention, Conception, or Abstraction ; but that 
 it is formed by a combination of various faculties. It 
 is farther evident, that it must appear under very dif- 
 ferent forms, in the case of different individuals; as 
 some of its component parts are liable to be greatly 
 influenced by habit, and other accidental circum- 
 stances. The variety, for example, of the materials 
 out of which the combinations of the Poet or the 
 Painter are formed, will depend much on the tend- 
 ency of external situation, to store the mind with a 
 multiplicity of Conceptions ; and the beauty of these 
 combinations will depend entirely on the success
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. -..., 489 
 
 with which the power of Taste has been cultivated. 
 What we call, therefore, the power of Imagination, 
 is not the gift of nature, but the result of acquired 
 habits, aided by favourable circumstances. It is 
 not an original endowment of the mind, but an ac- 
 complishment formed by experience and situation ; 
 and which, in its different gradations, fills up all 
 the interval between the first efforts of untutored 
 genius, and the sublime creations of Raphael or of 
 Milton. 
 
 An uncommon degree of Imagination constitutes 
 poetical genius ; a talent which, although chiefly dis- 
 played in poetical composition, is also the found- 
 ation (though not precisely in the same manner) of 
 various other Arts. A few remarks on the relation 
 which Imagination bears to some of the most in- 
 teresting of these, will throw additional light on its 
 nature and office. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of Imagination considered in its Relation to some of the 
 Fine Arts. 
 
 AMONG the Arts connected with Imagination, some 
 not only take their rise from this power, but pro- 
 duce objects which are addressed to it. Others take 
 their rise from Imagination, but produce objects 
 which are addressed to the power of Perception. 
 
 To the latter of these two classes of Arts, belongs 
 that of Gardening ; or, as it has been lately called, 
 the Art of creating Landscape. In this Art, the de- 
 signer is limited in his creation by nature j and his
 
 490 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 only province is to correct, to improve, and to adorn. 
 As he cannot repeat his experiments, in order to 
 observe the effect, he must call up, in his imagin- 
 ation, the scene which he means to produce ; and 
 . a PPty *- tn i s imaginary scene his taste and his judg- 
 ment ; or, in other words, to a lively conception of 
 visible objects, he must add a power (which long 
 experience and attentive observation alone can give 
 him) of judging beforehand, of the effect which 
 they would produce, if they were actually exhibited 
 to his senses. This power forms, what Lord 
 Chatham beautifully and expressively called the pro- 
 phetic Eye of Taste ; that eye which (if I may 
 borrow the language of Mr. Gray) " sees all the 
 " beauties that a place is susceptible of, long before 
 " they are born ; and when it plants a seedling, 
 " already sits under the shade of it, and enjoys the 
 " effect it will have, from every point of view that 
 " lies in the prospect." * But although the artist 
 who creates a landscape, copies it from his imagin- 
 ation, the scene which he exhibits is addressed to 
 the senses, and may produce its full effect on the 
 minds of others, without any effort on their part, 
 either of imagination or of conception. 
 
 To prevent being misunderstood, it is necessary 
 for me to remark, that, in the last observation, I 
 speak merely of the natural effects produced by a 
 landscape, and abstract entirely from the pleasure 
 which may result from an accidental association of 
 ideas with a particular scene. The effect resulting 
 
 from such associations will depend, in a great mea- 
 
 
 
 * GRAY'S Works, by MASON, p. 277.
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 491 
 
 sure, on the liveliness with which the associated 
 objects are conceived, and on the affecting nature 
 of the pictures which a creative imagination, when 
 once roused, will present to the mind; but the 
 pleasures thus arising from the accidental exercise 
 that a landscape may give to the imagination, must 
 not be confounded with those which it is naturally 
 fitted to produce. 
 
 In Painting, (excepting in those instances in 
 which it exhibits a faithful copy of a particular ob- 
 ject,) the original idea must be formed in the ima- 
 gination : and, in most cases, the exercise of 
 imagination must concur with perception, before 
 the picture can produce that effect on the mind of 
 the spectator which the artist has in view. Painting, 
 therefore, does not belong entirely to either of the 
 two classes of Arts formerly mentioned, but has 
 something in common with them both. 
 
 As far as the Painter aims at copying exactly 
 what he sees, he may be guided mechanically by 
 general rules ; and he requires no aid from that 
 creative genius which is characteristical of the Poet. 
 The pleasure, however, which results from painting, 
 considered merely as an imitative art, is extremely 
 trifling ; and is specifically different from that 
 which it aims to produce, by awakening the ima- 
 gination. Even in portrait-painting, the servile 
 copyist of nature is regarded in no higher light 
 than that of a tradesman. " Deception," (as 
 Reynolds has excellently observed,) " instead of 
 " advancing the art, is, in reality, carrying it back 
 " to its infant state. The first essays of painting 
 " were certainly nothing but mere imitations of in-
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VU. 
 
 " dividual objects ; and when this amounted to 
 " a deception, the artist had accomplished his 
 purpose."* 
 
 When the history or the landscape Painter in- 
 dulges his genius, in forming new combinations of 
 his own, he vies with the Poet in the noblest exertion 
 of the poetical art : and he avails himself of his 
 professional skill, as the Poet avails himself of lan- 
 guage, only to convey the ideas in his mind. To 
 deceive the eye by accurate representations of par- 
 ticular forms, is no longer his aim ; but, by the 
 touches of an expressive pencil, to speak to the 
 imaginations of others. Imitation, therefore, is not 
 the end which he proposes to himself, but the means 
 which he employs in order to accomplish it : nay, 
 if the imitation be carried so far as to preclude all 
 exercise of the spectator's imagination, it will disap- 
 point, in a great measure, the purpose of the artist. 
 
 In Poetry, and in every other species of compo- 
 sition, in which one person attempts, by means of 
 language, to present to the mind of another, the 
 objects of his own imagination ; this power is ne- 
 cessary, though not in the same degree, to the author 
 and to the reader. When we peruse a description, 
 we naturally feel a disposition to form, in our own 
 minds, a distinct picture of what is described ; 
 and in proportion to the attention and interest 
 which the subject excites, the picture becomes 
 steady and determinate. It is scarcely possible for 
 us to hear much of a particular town, without form- 
 ing some notion of its figure and size and situation j 
 
 * Notes on MASON'S Translation of FRESNOY'S Poem on the 
 Art of Painting, p. 114.
 
 Sect, 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 493 
 
 and in reading history and poetry, I believe it sel- 
 dom happens, that we do not annex imaginary ap- 
 pearances to the names of our favourite characters. 
 It is, at the same time, almost certain, that the 
 imaginations of no two men coincide upon such oc- 
 casions ; and, therefore, though both maybe pleased, 
 the agreeable impressions which they feel, may be 
 widely different from each other, according as the 
 pictures by which they are produced are more or 
 less happily imagined. Hence it is, that when a 
 person accustomed to dramatic reading sees, for 
 the first time, one of his favourite characters re- 
 presented on the stage, he is generally dissatisfied 
 with the exhibition, however eminent the actor may 
 be ; and if he should happen, before this represent- 
 ation, to have been very familiarly acquainted with 
 the character, the case may continue to be the same 
 through life. For my own part, I have never re- 
 ceived from any Falstaff on the stage, half the plea- 
 sure which Shakespeare gives me in the closet ; and 
 I am persuaded, that I should feel some degree of 
 uneasiness, if I were present at any attempt to per- 
 sonate the figure or the voice of Don Quixote or 
 Sancho Panca. It is not always that the actor on 
 such occasions, falls short of our expectation. He 
 disappoints us, by exhibiting something different 
 from what our imagination had anticipated, and 
 which consequently appears to us, at the moment, 
 to be an unfaithful representation of the Poet's 
 idea : and until a frequent repetition of the per- 
 formance has completely obliterated our former im- 
 pressions, it is impossible for us to form an adequate 
 estimate of its merit.
 
 494 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 Similar observations may be applied to other sub- 
 jects. The sight of any natural scene, or of any 
 work of art, provided we have not previously heard 
 of it, commonly produces a greater effect, at first, 
 than ever afterwards : but if, in consequence of a 
 description, we have been led to form a previous 
 notion of it, I apprehend, the effect will be found 
 less pleasing, the first time it is seen, than the 
 second. Although the description should fall short 
 greatly of the reality, yet the disappointment which 
 we feel, on meeting with something different from 
 what we expected, diminishes our satisfaction. The 
 second time we see the scene, the effect of novelty 
 is indeed less than before ; but it is still consider- 
 able, and the imagination now anticipates nothing 
 which is not realised in the perception. 
 
 The remarks which have been made, afford a 
 satisfactory reason why so few are to be found who 
 have a genuine relish for the beauties of poetry. 
 The designs of Kent and of Brown evince in their 
 authors a degree of imagination entirely analogous 
 to that of the descriptive poet ; but when they are 
 once executed, their beauties (excepting those 
 which result from association) meet the eye of 
 every spectator. In poetry the effect is inconsider- 
 able, unless upon a mind which possesses some de- 
 gree of the author's genius ; a mind amply furnished 
 by its previous habits, with the means of interpret- 
 ing the language which he employs ; and able, by 
 its own imagination, to co-operate with the efforts 
 of his art. 
 
 It has been often remarked, that the general 
 words which express complex ideas, seldom convey 
 
 ii
 
 Sect. 2. > ; OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4*95 
 
 precisely the same meaning to different individuals, 
 and that hence arises much of the ambiguity of 
 language. The same observation holds, in no in- 
 considerable degree, with respect to the names of 
 sensible objects. When the words River, Mountain, 
 Grove, occur in a description, a person of lively 
 conceptions, naturally thinks of some particular 
 river, mountain, and grove, that have made an im- 
 pression on his mind j and whatever the notions are, 
 which he is led by his imagination to form of these 
 objects, they must necessarily approach to the 
 standard of what he has seen. Hence it is evident 
 that, according to the different habits and educa- 
 tion of individuals ; according to the liveliness of 
 their conceptions, and according to the creative 
 power of their imaginations, the same words will 
 produce very different effects on different minds. 
 When a person who has received his education in 
 the country,, reads a description of a rural retire- 
 ment ; the house, the river, the woods, to which he 
 was first accustomed, present themselves spon- 
 taneously to his conception, accompanied, perhaps, 
 with the recollection of his early friendships, and 
 all those pleasing ideas which are commonly asso- 
 ciated with the scenes of childhood and of youth. 
 How different is the effect of the description upon 
 his mind, from what it would produce on one who 
 has passed his tender years at a distance from the 
 beauties of nature, and whose infant sports are con- 
 nected in his memory with the gloomy alleys of a 
 commercial city ! 
 
 But it is not only in interpreting the particular 
 words of a description, that the powers of Imagin-
 
 496 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VIL 
 
 ation and Conception are employed. They are 
 farther necessary for filling up the different parts of 
 that picture, of which the most minute describer can 
 only trace the outline. In the best description, 
 there is much left to the reader to supply ; and the 
 effect which it produces on his mind will depend, in 
 a considerable degree, on the invention and taste 
 with which the picture is finished. It is therefore 
 possible, on the one hand, that the happiest efforts 
 of poetical genius may be perused with perfect in- 
 difference by a man of sound judgment, and not 
 destitute of natural sensibility ; and on the other 
 hand, that a cold and common-place description 
 may be the means of awakening, in a rich and 
 glowing imagination, a degree of enthusiasm un- 
 known to the author. 
 
 All the different arts which I have hitherto men- 
 tioned as taking their rise from the imagination, 
 have this in common, that their primary object is to 
 please. This observation applies to the art of Poetry, 
 no less than to the others ; nay, it is this circum- 
 stance which characterises Poetry, and distinguishes 
 it from all the other classes of literary composition. 
 The object of the Philosopher is to inform and en- 
 lighten mankind ; that of the Orator, to acquire an 
 ascendant over the will of others, by bending to his 
 own purposes their judgments, their imaginations, 
 and their passions : but the primary and the dis- 
 tinguishing aim of the Poet is, to please ; and the 
 principal resource which he possesses for this pur- 
 pose, is by addressing the imagination. Sometimes, 
 indeed, he may seem to encroach on the province of 
 the Philosopher or of the Orator j but, in these in-
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 497 
 
 stances, he only borrows from them the means by 
 which he accomplishes his end. If he attempts to 
 enlighten and to inform, he addresses the under- 
 standing only as a vehicle of pleasure : if he makes 
 an appeal to the passions, it is only to passions which 
 it is pleasing to indulge. The Philosopher, in like 
 manner, in order to accomplish his end of instruc- 
 tion, may find it expedient, occasionally, to amuse 
 the imagination, or to make an appeal to the pas- 
 sions: the Orator may, atone time, state to" his 
 hearers a process of reasoning ; at another, a calni 
 narrative of facts -, and, at a third, he may give the 
 reins to poetical fancy. But still the ultimate end 
 of the Philosopher is to instruct, and of the Orator 
 to persuade ; and whatever means they make use of 
 which are not subservient to this purpose, are out 
 of place, and obstruct ttie effect of their labours. 
 
 The measured composition in which the Poet ex- 
 presses himself is only one of the means which he 
 employs to please. As the delight which he con- 
 veys to the imagination, is heightened by the other 
 agreeable impressions, which he can unite in the 
 mind at the same time ; he studies to bestow, upon 
 the medium of communication which he employs, 
 all the various beauties, of which it is susceptible. 
 Among these beauties, the harmony of numbers is 
 not the least powerful ; for its effect is constant, and 
 does not interfere with any of the other pleasures 
 which language produces. A succession of agree- 
 able perceptions is kept up by the organical effect 
 of words upon the ear ; while they inform the un- 
 derstanding by their perspicuity and precision, or 
 please the imagination by the pictures they suggest, 
 
 K K
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 or touch the heart by the associations they awaken. 
 Of all these charms of language, the Poet may avail 
 himself; and they are all so many instruments of 
 his art. To the Philosopher and the Orator they 
 may occasionally be of use ; and to both they must 
 be constantly so far an object of attention, that no- 
 thing may occur in their compositions, which may 
 distract the thoughts, by offending either the ear or 
 the taste; but the Poet must not rest satisfied with 
 this negative praise. Pleasure is the end of his art : 
 and the more numerous the sources of it which he 
 can open, the greater will be the effect produced 
 by the efforts of his genius. 
 
 The province of the poet is limited only by the 
 variety of human enjoyments. Whatever is in the 
 reality subservient to our happiness, is a source of 
 pleasure, when presented to our conceptions, and 
 may sometimes derive from the heightenings of ima- 
 gination, a momentary charm, which we exchange 
 with reluctance for the substantial gratifications of 
 the senses. The province of the painter, and of the 
 statuary, is confined to the imitation of visible ob- 
 jects, and to the exhibition of such intellectual and 
 moral qualities, as the human body is fitted to ex- 
 press. In ornamental architecture, and in orna- 
 mental gardening, the sole aim of the artist is to 
 give pleasure to the eye, by the beauty or sublimity 
 of material forms. But to the poet all the glories of 
 external nature ; all that is amiable or interesting, or 
 respectable in human character; all that excites and 
 engages our benevolent affections ; all those truths 
 which make the heart feel itself better and more 
 happy ; all these supply materials, out of which he
 
 Sect. 2. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 499 
 
 forms and peoples a world of his own, where no in* 
 conveniences damp our enjoyments, a'nd where no 
 clouds darken our prospects. 
 
 That the pleasures of poetry arise chiefly from the 
 agreeable feelings which it conveys to the mind, by 
 awakening the imagination, is a proposition which 
 may seem too obvious 'to stand in need of proof. 
 As the ingenious Inquirer, however, into "the Ori- 
 gin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful," has 
 disputed the common notions upon this subject, I 
 shall consider some of the principal arguments by 
 which he has supported his opinion. 
 
 The leading principle of the theory which I am 
 now to examine is, " That the common effect of 
 " poetry is not to raise ideas of things ;" or, as I 
 would rather chuse to express it, its common effect 
 is not to give exercise to the powers of conception 
 and imagination. That I may not be accused of 
 misrepresentation, I shall state the doctrine at length 
 in the words of the author. " If words have all 
 " their possible extent of power, three effects arise 
 " in the mind of the hearer. The first is the sound; 
 " the second, the picture, or representation of the 
 " thing signified by the sound ; the third is, the 
 " affection of the soul produced by one or by both 
 " of the foregoing. Compounded abstract words, 
 " (honour, justice, liberty, and the like: ) produce 
 " the first and the last of these effects, but not the 
 " second. Simple abstracts are used to signify some 
 " one simple idea, without much adverting to others 
 " which may chance to attend it ; as blue, green, 
 " hot, cold, and the like : these are capable of ef- 
 " fecting all three of the purposes of words ; as the 
 
 K K 2
 
 500 , ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " aggregate words, man, castle, horse, &c. are in a 
 " yet higher degree. But I am of opinion, that the 
 " most general effect even of these words does not 
 " arise from their forming pictures of the several 
 " things they would represent in the imagination ; 
 " because, on a very diligent examination of my own 
 " mind, and getting others to consider theirs, I do 
 " not find that once in twenty times any such pic- 
 " ture is formed ; and when it is, there is most com- 
 " monly a particular effort of the imagination for 
 " that purpose. But the aggregate words operate, 
 ' as I said of the compound abstracts, not by pre- 
 " senting any image to the mind, but by having from 
 " use the same effect on being mentioned, that their 
 " original has when it is seen. Suppose we were to 
 " read a passage to this effect : " The river Danube 
 " rises in a moist and mountainous soil in the heart 
 " of Germany, where, winding to and fro, it waters 
 " several principalities, until turning into Austria, 
 " and leaving the walls of Vienna, it passes into 
 " Hungary j there with avast flood, augmented by 
 " the Saave and the Drave, it quits Christendom, 
 " and rolling through the barbarous countries which 
 " border on Tartary, it enters by many mouths into 
 " the Black Sea." In this description many things 
 " are mentioned ; as mountains, rivers, cities, the 
 " sea, &c. But let any body examine himself, and 
 " see whether he has had impressed on his imagin- 
 " ation any pictures of a river, mountain, watery 
 ' soil, Germany, &c. Indeed, it is impossible, in 
 ' the rapidity and quick succession of words in 
 " conversation, to have ideas both of the sound of 
 " the word, and of the thing represented j besides, 
 
 9
 
 Sect. 2. - OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 " some words expressing real essences, are so 
 " mixed with others of a general and nominal im- 
 " port, that it is impracticable to jump from sense 
 '* to thought, from particulars to generals, from 
 " things to words, in such a manner as to answer 
 " the purposes of life j nor is it necessary that we 
 " should." 
 
 In farther confirmation of this doctrine, Mr. 
 Burke refers to the poetical works of the late 
 amiable and ingenious Dr. Blacklock. " Here," 
 says he, " is a poet, doubtless as much affected by 
 '1 his own descriptions, as any that reads them can 
 " be ; and yet he is affected with this strong en- 
 " thusiasm, by things of which he neither has, nor 
 " can possibly have, any idea, farther than that of 
 " a bare sound ; and why may not those who read 
 " his works be affected in the same manner that he 
 " was, with as little of any real ideas of the things 
 " described ?" 
 
 Before I proceed to make any remarks on these 
 passages, I must observe in general, that I per- 
 fectly agree with Mr. Burke, in thinking that a 
 very great proportion of the words which we 
 habitually employ, have no effect to " raise ideas 
 " in the mind;" or to exercise the powers of con- 
 ception and imagination. My notions on this sub- 
 ject I have already sufficiently explained in treating 
 of Abstraction. 
 
 I agree with him farther, that a great proportion 
 of the words which are used in poetry and elo- 
 quence, produce very powerful effects on the mind, 
 by exciting emotions which we have been ac- 
 customed to associate with particular sounds j 
 
 xx 3
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 without leading the imagination to form to itself 
 any pictures or representations : and his account of 
 the manner in which such words operate, appears to 
 me satisfactory. " Such words are in reality but 
 " mere sounds ; but they are sounds, which, being 
 " used on particular occasions, wherein we receive 
 " some good, or suffer some evil ; or see others 
 " affected with good or evil ; or which we hear ap- 
 " plied to other interesting things or events ; and 
 " being applied in such a variety of cases, that we 
 " know readily by habit to what things they belong, 
 " they produce in the mind, whenever they are 
 " afterwards mentioned, effects similar to those 
 " of their occasions. The sounds being often used 
 " without reference to any particular occasion, and 
 " carrying still their first impressions, they at last 
 ** utterly lose their connexion with the particular 
 " occasions that gave rise to them ; yet the sound, 
 "without any annexed notion, continues to ope- 
 " rate as before." 
 
 Notwithstanding, however, these concessions, I 
 cannot admit that it is in this way poetry produces 
 its principal effect. Whence is it that general and 
 abstract expressions are so tame and lifeless, in 
 comparison of those which are particular and figu- 
 rative ? Is it not because the former do not give any 
 exercise to the imagination, like the latter ? Whence 
 the distinction, acknowledged by all critics, ancient 
 and modern, between that charm of words which 
 evaporates in the process of translation, and those 
 permanent beauties, which presenting to the mind 
 the distinctness of a picture, may impart pleasure 
 to the most remote regions and ages ? Is it not, 
 
 i
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 503 
 
 that in the one case, the Poet addresses himself to 
 associations which are local and temporary ; in the 
 other, to those essential principles of human nature, 
 from which Poetry and Painting derive their com- 
 mon attractions ? Hence, among the various sources 
 of the sublime, the peculiar stress laid by Longinus 
 on what he calls Fisions, ($i/Ta<ruu) orv 
 
 xai TraS'ou? ATTJII/ OXIK xat TT 
 
 * 
 
 In treating of Abstraction I formerly remarked, 
 that the perfection of philosophical style is to ap- 
 proach as nearly as possible to that species of lan- 
 guage we employ in algebra, and to exclude every 
 expression which has a tendency to divert the 
 attention by exciting the imagination, or to bias the 
 judgment by casual associations. For this purpose 
 the Philosopher ought to be sparing in the employ- 
 ment of figurative words, and to convey his notions 
 by general terms which have been accurately de- 
 fined. To the Orator, on the other hand, when he 
 wishes to prevent the cool exercise of the under- 
 standing, it may, on the same account, be fre- 
 quently useful to delight or to agitate his hearers, 
 by blending with his reasonings the illusions of 
 poetry, or the magical influence of sounds con- 
 secrated by popular feelings. A regard to the 
 different ends thus aimed at in Philosophical and in 
 Rhetorical composition, renders the ornaments 
 which are so becoming in the one, inconsistent 
 
 * De Sublim. xv. Quas <pavTa<ra; Graeci vocant, nos sanfe 
 Visiones appellamus ; per quas imagines rerum absentium ita 
 repraesentantur animo, ut eas cernere oculis ac praesentes habere 
 videamur. QUINCT. INST. Orat. vi. 2. 
 
 K K 4
 
 604 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 with good taste and good sense, when adopted in 
 the other. 
 
 In Poetry, as truths and facts are introduced, not 
 for the purpose of information, but to convey 
 pleasure to the mind, nothing offends more, than 
 those general expressions which form the great in- 
 strument of philosophical reasoning. The original 
 pleasures, which it is the aim of poetry to recal to 
 the mind, are all derived from individual objects ; 
 and, of consequence, (with a very few exceptions, 
 which it does not belong to my present subject to 
 enumerate,) the more particular, and the more ap- 
 propriated its language is, the greater will be the 
 charm it possesses. 
 
 With respect to the description of the course of 
 .the Danube already quoted, I shall not dispute the 
 result of the experiment to be as the author repre- 
 sents it. That words may often be applied to their 
 proper purposes, without our annexing any par- 
 ticular notions to them, I have formerly shewn. at 
 great length ; and I admit that the meaning of this 
 description may be so understood. But to be un- 
 derstood, is not the sole object of the poet : his 
 primary object, is to please ; and the pleasure which 
 he conveys will,, in general, be found to be pro- 
 portioned to the beauty and liveliness of the images 
 which he suggests. In the case of a poet born 
 .blind, the effect of poetry must depend on other 
 causes ; but whatever opinion we may form on this 
 point, it appears to me impossible, that such a poet 
 should receive, even from his Own descriptions, 
 the same degree of pleasure which they may con- 
 vey to a reader, who is capable of conceiving the
 
 Sect. 2. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 505 
 
 scenes which are described. Indeed this instance 
 which Mr. Burke produces in support of his theory, 
 is sufficient of itself to shew, that the theory can- 
 not be true in the extent in which it is stated, 
 
 By way of contrast to the description of the 
 Danube, I shall quote a stanza from Gray, which 
 affords a very beautiful example of the two different 
 effects of poetical expression. The pleasure con- 
 veyed by the two last lines resolves almost entirely 
 into Mr. Burke's principles ; but, great as this plea- 
 sure is, how inconsiderable is it in comparison of 
 that arising from the continued and varied exercise 
 which the preceding lines give to the imagination ? 
 
 " In climes beyond the solar road, 
 " Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam, 
 " The rouse has broke the twilight-gloom, 
 " To cheer the shiv'ring native s dull abode. 
 " And oft, beneath the od'rous shade 
 " Of Chili's boundless forests laid, 
 " She deigns to hear the savage youth repeat, 
 " In loose numbers wildly sweet, 
 " Their feather-cinctur'd chiefs, and dusky loves. 
 " Her track where'er the goddess roves, 
 " Glory pursue, and generous shame, 
 " Th' unconquerable mind, and freedom's holy flame." 
 
 I cannot help remarking further, the effect of the 
 solemn and uniform flow of the verse in this ex- 
 quisite stanza, in retarding the pronunciation of the 
 reader ; so as to arrest his attention to every suc- 
 cessive picture, till it has time to produce its proper 
 impression. More of the charm of poetical rythm 
 arises from this circumstance, than is commonly 
 imagined. 
 
 To those who wish to study the theory of poetical 
 expression, no author in our language affords a
 
 506 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 richer variety of illustrations than the poet last 
 quoted. His merits, in many other respects, are 
 great; but his skill in this particular is more peculiar- 
 ly conspicuous. How much he had made the prin- 
 ciples of this branch of his art an object of study, 
 appears from his letters published by Mr. Mason. 
 
 I have sometimes thought, that in the last line of 
 the following passage, he had in view the two dif- 
 ferent effects of words already described ; the effect 
 of some, in awakening the powers of Conception 
 and Imagination ; and that of others, in exciting 
 associated emotions : 
 
 " Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! 
 " Bright-ey'd Fancy hovering o'er, 
 " Scatters from her pictur'd urn, 
 " Thoughts that breathe, and words, that burn." 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Relation of Imagination and 
 of Taste to Genius. 
 
 FROM the remarks made in the foregoing Sections, 
 it is obvious, in what manner a person accustomed 
 to analise and combine his conceptions, may acquire 
 an idea of beauties superior to any which he has 
 seen realised. It may also be easily inferred, that 
 a habit of forming such intellectual combinations, 
 and of remarking their effects on our own minds, 
 must contribute to refine and to exalt the Taste, to 
 a degree which it never can attain in those men, 
 who study to improve it by the observation and 
 comparison of external objects only.
 
 Sect. 3. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 507 
 
 A cultivated Taste, combined with a creative 
 Imagination, constitutes Genius in the Fine Arts. 
 Without taste, imagination could produce only a 
 random analysis and combination of our concep- 
 tions ; and without imagination, taste would be 
 destitute of the faculty of invention. These two 
 ingredients of genius may be mixed together in all 
 possible proportions ; and where either is possessed 
 in a degree remarkably exceeding what falls to the 
 ordinary share of mankind, it may compensate in 
 some measure for a deficiency in the other. An 
 uncommonly correct taste, with little imagination, 
 if it does not produce works which excite admi- 
 ration, produces at least nothing which can offend. 
 An uncommon fertility of imagination, even when 
 it offends, excites our wonder by its creative power ; 
 and shews what it could have performed, had its 
 exertions been guided by a more perfect model. 
 
 In the infancy of the Arts, an union of these two 
 powers in the same mind is necessary for the pro- 
 duction of every work of genius. Taste, without 
 imagination, is, in such a situation, impossible; for, 
 as there are no monuments of ancient genius on 
 which it can be formed, it must be the result of 
 experiments, which nothing but the imagination of 
 every individual can enable him to make. Such a 
 taste must necessarily be imperfect, in consequence 
 of the limited experience of which it is the result ; 
 but, without imagination, it could not have been 
 acquired even in this imperfect degree. 
 
 In the progress of the Arts the case comes to be 
 altered. The productions of genius accumulate to 
 such an extent, that taste may be formed by a care-
 
 08 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 ful study of the works of others ; and, as formerly 
 imagination had served as a necessary foundation 
 for taste, so taste begins now to invade the province 
 of imagination. The combinations which the latter 
 faculty has been employed in making, during a long 
 succession of ages, approach to infinity ; and present 
 such ample materials to a judicious selection, that 
 with a high standard of excellence, continually pre- 
 sent to the thoughts, industry, assisted by the 
 most moderate degree of imagination, will, in time, 
 produce performances, not only more free from 
 faults, but incomparably more powerful in their 
 effects, than the most original efforts of untutored 
 genius, which, guided by an uncultivated taste, 
 copies after an inferior model of perfection. What 
 Reynolds observes of Painting, may be applied to 
 all the other Fine Arts : that, " as the Painter, by 
 " bringing together in one piece, those beauties, 
 " which are dispersed amongst a great variety of in- 
 '* dividuals, produces a figure more beautiful than 
 ' ** can be found in nature ; so that artist who can 
 " unite in himself the excellencies of the various 
 " painters, will: approach nearer to perfection than 
 " any of his masters." * 
 
 * P. 226.
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 509 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of the Influence of Imagination on Human Character and 
 Happiness. 
 
 HITHERTO we have considered the power of Ima- 
 gination chiefly as it is connected with the Fine 
 Arts. But it deserves our attention still more, on 
 account of its extensive influence on human charac- 
 ter and happiness. 
 
 The lower animals, as far as we are able to judge, 
 are entirely occupied with the objects of their pre- 
 sent perceptions : and the case is nearly the same 
 with the inferior orders of our own species. One 
 of the principal effects which a liberal education 
 produces on the mind, is to accustom us to with- 
 draw our attention from the objects of sense, and 
 to direct it, at pleasure, to those intellectual com- 
 binations which delight the imagination. Even, 
 however, among men of cultivated understandings, 
 this faculty is possessed in very unequal degrees 
 by different individuals ; and these differences 
 (whether resulting from original constitution or 
 from early education) lay the foundation of some 
 striking varieties in human character. 
 
 What we commonly call sensibility, depends, in a 
 great measure, on the power of imagination. Point 
 out to two men, any object of compassion ; a 
 man, for example, reduced by misfortune from easy 
 circumstances to indigence. The one feels merely 
 in proportion to what he perceives by his senses. 
 The other follows, in imagination, the unfortunate 
 man to his dwelling, and partakes with him and his
 
 510 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 family in their domestic distresses. He listens to 
 their conversation, while they recal to remem- 
 brance the flattering prospects they once indulged ; 
 the circle of friends they had been forced to leave ; 
 the liberal plans of education which were begun 
 and interrupted ; and pictures out to himself all the 
 various resources which delicacy and pride suggest, 
 to conceal poverty from the world. As he pro- 
 ceeds in the painting, his sensibility increases, and 
 he weeps, not for what he sees, but for what he 
 imagines. It will be said, that it was his sensibility 
 which originally roused his imagination ; and the 
 observation is undoubtedly true ; but it is equally 
 evident, on the other hand, that the warmth of his 
 imagination increases and prolongs his sensibility. 
 
 This is beautifully illustrated in the Sentimental 
 Journey of Sterne. While engaged in a train of 
 reflections on the State prisons in France, the ac- 
 cidental sight of a starling in a cage suggests to 
 him the idea of a captive in his dungeon. He in- 
 dulges his imagination, " and looks through the 
 " twilight of the grated door to take the picture." 
 
 " I beheld," (says he,) " his body half wasted 
 " away with long expectation and confinement, and 
 " felt what kind of sickness of the heart it is, which 
 " arises from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, 
 " I saw him pale and feverish : in thirty years the 
 " western breeze had not once fanned his blood : 
 " he had seen no sun, no moon, in all that time, 
 " nor had the voice of friend or kinsman breathed 
 
 " through his lattice. His children But 
 
 " here my heart began to bleed, and I was forced 
 " to go on with another part of the portrait.
 
 Sect. 4?. Ot THE HUMAN MIND. 511 
 
 " He was sitting upon the ground, in the farthest 
 " corner of his dungeon, on a little straw, which 
 " was alternately his chair and bed : a little calen- 
 " dar of small sticks was laid at the head, notched 
 " all over with the dismal days and nights he had 
 " passed there : he had one of these little sticks 
 " in his hand, and with a rusty nail he was etching 
 " another day of misery to add to the heap. As I 
 " darkened the little light he had, he lifted up a 
 " hopeless eye towards the door, then cast it down 
 " shook his head, and went on with his work 
 " of affliction." 
 
 The foregoing observations may account, in part, 
 for the effect which exhibitions of fictitious distress 
 produce on some persons, who do not discover much 
 sensibility to the distresses of real life. In a Novel 
 or a Tragedy, the picture is complely finished in all 
 its parts ; and we are made acquainted not only 
 with every circumstance on which the distress turns, 
 but with the sentiments and feelings of every cha- 
 racter, with respect to his situation. In real life 
 we see, in general, only detached scenes of the 
 Tragedy ; and the impression is slight, unless 
 imagination finishes the characters, and supplies 
 the incidents that are wanting. 
 
 It is not only to scenes of distress that imagin- 
 ation increases our sensibility. It gives us a double 
 share in the prosperity of others, and enables us to 
 partake, with a more lively interest, in every for- 
 tunate incident that occurs either to individuals or 
 to communities. Even from the productions of the 
 earth, and the vicissitudes of the year, it carries for- 
 ward our thoughts to the enjoyments they bring to
 
 512 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 the sensitive creation, and by interesting our bene- 
 volent affections in the scenes we behold, lends a 
 new charm to the beauties of nature. 
 
 I have often been inclined to think, that the ap- 
 parent coldness and selfishness of mankind may be 
 traced, in a great measure, to a want of attention 
 and a want of imagination. In the case of mis- 
 fortunes which happen to ourselves, or to our near 
 connexions, neither of these powers is necessary to 
 make us acquainted with our situation ; so that we 
 feel, of necessity, the correspondent emotions. But 
 without an uncommon degree of both, it is impos- 
 sible for any man to comprehend completely the 
 situation of his neighbour, or to have an idea of a 
 great part of the distress which exists in the world. 
 If we feel therefore more for ourselves than for 
 others, the difference is to be ascribed, at least 
 partly, to this ; that, in the former case, the facts 
 which are the foundation of our feelings, are more 
 fully before us than they possibly can be in the latter. 
 
 In order to prevent misapprehensions of my 
 meaning, it is necessary for me to add, that I do 
 not mean to deny that it is a law of our nature, in 
 cases in which there is an interference between our 
 own interest and that of other men, to give a certain 
 degree of preference to ourselves ; even supposing 
 our neighbour's situation to be as completely known 
 to us as our own. I only affirm, that, where this 
 preference becomes blameable and unjust, the effect 
 is to be accounted for partly in the way 1 men- 
 tioned, * One striking proof of this is, the power- 
 
 * I say partly ; for habits of inattention to the situation of other 
 men, undoubtedly presuppose some defect in the social affections.
 
 Sect. 4-. " OF THE HUMAN MINB. 513 
 
 ful emotions which may be occasionally excited in 
 the minds of the most callous, when the attention 
 has been once fixed, and the imagination awakened, 
 by eloquent and circumstantial and pathetic descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 A very amiable and profound moralist, in the ac- 
 count which he has given of the origin of our sense 
 of justice, has, I think, drawn a less pleasing picture 
 of the natural constitution of the human mind, than 
 is agreeable to truth. " To disturb " ( says he ) 
 " the happiness of our neighbour, merely because 
 " it stands in the way of our own ; to take from him 
 " what is of real use to him, merely because it may 
 " be of equal or of more use to us ; or, to indulge 
 " in this manner, at the expence of other people, 
 " the natural preference which every man has for 
 " his own happiness above that of other people, is 
 " what no impartial spectator can go along with. 
 " Every man is, no doubt, first and principally re- 
 " commended to his own care ; and as he is fitter 
 " to take care of himself than of any other person, 
 " it is fit and right that it should be so. Every man, 
 " therefore, is much more deeply interested in what- 
 " ever immediately concerns himself, than in what 
 " concerns any other man : and to hear, perhaps, 
 " of the death of another person with whom we have 
 " no particular connexion, will give us less concern, 
 " will spoil our stomach, or break our rest, much 
 " less than a very insignificant disaster which has 
 " befallen ourselves. But though the ruin of our 
 " neighbour may affect us much less than a very 
 " small misfortune of our own, we must not ruin 
 " him to prevent that small misfortune, nor even to 
 
 L L
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " prevent our own ruin. We must here, as in al . 
 " other cases, view ourselves not so much according 
 ' to that light in which we may naturally appear to 
 " ourselves, as according to that in which we natu- 
 " rally appear to others. Though every man may, 
 " according to the proverb, be the whole world to 
 " himself, to the rest of mankind he is a most in- 
 " significant part of it." Though his own happiness 
 " may be of more importance to him than that of all 
 " the world besides, to every other person it is of no 
 " more consequence than that of any other man. 
 " Though it may be true, therefore, that every in- 
 " dividual, in his own breast, naturally prefers him- 
 " self to all mankind, yet he dares not look mankind 
 " in the face, and avow that he acts according to 
 " this principle. He feels that, in this preference 
 " they can never go along with him, and that how 
 " natural soever it may be to him, it must always 
 " appear excessive and extravagant to them. When 
 4t he views himself in the light in which he is con- 
 " scious that others will view him, he sees that to 
 " them he is but one of the multitude, in no re- 
 " spect better than any other in it. If he would act 
 **. so as that the impartial spectator may enter into 
 " the principles of his conduct, which is what of all 
 " things he has the greatest desire to do, he must, 
 " upon this, as upon all other occasions, humble 
 the arrogance of his self-love, and bring it down to 
 " something which other men can go along with." 
 
 I am ready to acknowledge, that there is much 
 truth in this passage ; and that a prudential regard 
 to the opinion of others, might teach a man of good 
 sense, without the aid of more amiable motives, to
 
 Sect. 4. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 515 
 
 conceal his unreasonable partialities in favour of 
 'himself) and to act agreeably to what he conceives 
 to be the sentiments of impartial spectators. But 
 I cannot help thinking, that the fact is much too 
 strongly stated with respect to the natural partiality 
 of self-love, supposing the situation of our neigh- 
 bours to be as completely presented to our view, as 
 our own must of necessity be. When the Orator 
 wishes to combat the selfish passions of his audience, 
 and to rouse them to a sense of what they owe to 
 mankind ; what mode of persuasion does nature dic- 
 tate to him ? Is it to remind them of the import- 
 ance of the good opinion of the world, and of the 
 necessity, in order to obtain it, of accommodating 
 their conduct to the sentiments of others, rather 
 than to their own feelings ? Such considerations 
 undoubtedly might, with some men, produce a cer- 
 tain effect ; and might lead them to assume the ap- 
 pearance of virtue ; but they would never excite a 
 sentiment of indignation at the thought of injustice, 
 or a sudden and involuntary burst of disinterested 
 affection. If the Orator can only succeed in fixing 
 their attention to facts, and in bringing these facts 
 home to their imagination by the power of his elo- 
 quence, he has completely attained his object. No 
 sooner are the facts apprehended, than the benevo- 
 lent principles of our nature display themselves in 
 all their beauty. The most cautious and timid lose, 
 for a moment, all thought of themselves, and de- 
 spising every consideration of prudence or of safety, 
 become wholly engrossed with the fortunes of others. 
 Many other facts, which are commonly alledged 
 L L 2
 
 516 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 as proofs of the original selfishness of mankind, may 
 be explained, in part, in a similar way j and may be 
 traced to habits of inattention, or to a want of ima- 
 gination, arising, probably, from some fault in early 
 education. 
 
 What has now been remarked with respect to the 
 social principles, may be applied to all our other pas- 
 sions, excepting those which take their rise from the 
 body. They are commonly strong in proportion to 
 the warmth and vigour of the imagination. 
 
 It is, however, extremely curious, that when an 
 imagination, which is naturally phlegmatic, or 
 which, like those of the vulgar, has little activity 
 from a want of culture, is fairly roused by the de- 
 scriptions of the Orator or of the Poet, it is more apt 
 to produce the violence of enthusiasm, than in minds 
 of a superior order. By giving this faculty occa- 
 sional exercise, we acquire a great degree of com- 
 mand over it. As we can withdraw the attention 
 at pleasure from objects of sense, and transport our- 
 selves into a world of our own, so when we wish to 
 moderate our enthusiasm, we can dismiss the objects 
 of imagination, and return to our ordinary percep- 
 tions and occupations. But in a mind to which these 
 intellectual visions are not familiar, and which bor- 
 rows them completely from the genius of another, 
 imagination, when once excited, becomes perfectly 
 ungovernable, and produces something like a tem- 
 porary insanity. Hence the wonderful effects of 
 popular eloquence on the lower orders; effects 
 which are much more remarkable, than what it ever 
 produces on men of education. 
 
 6
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 517 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Inconveniences resulting from 
 an ill-regulated Imagination. 
 
 IT was undoubtedly the intention of nature, that 
 the objects of perception should produce much 
 stronger impressions on the mind than its own 
 operations. And, accordingly they always do so, 
 when proper care has been taken in early life to 
 exercise the different principles of our constitution. 
 But it is possible, by long habits of solitary reflec- 
 tion, to reverse this order of things, and to weaken 
 the attention to sensible objects to so great a degree, 
 as to leave the conduct almost wholly under the 
 influence of imagination. Removed to a distance 
 from society, and from the pursuits of life, when we 
 have been long accustomed to converse with our 
 own thoughts, and have found our activity gratified 
 by intellectual exertions, which afford scope to all 
 our powers and affections, without exposing us to 
 the inconveniences resulting from the bustle of the 
 world, we are apt to contract an unnatural predi- 
 lection for meditation, and to lose all interest in 
 external occurrences. In such a situation too, the 
 mind gradually loses that command which edu- 
 cation, when properly conducted, gives it over the 
 train of its ideas ; till at length the most extra- 
 vagant dreams of imagination acquire as powerful 
 an influence in exciting all its passions, as if they 
 were realities. A wild and mountainous country, 
 which presents but a limited variety of objects* and 
 these only of such a sort as " awake to solemn 
 
 L L 3
 
 518 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " thought," has a remarkable effect in cherishing 
 this enthusiasm. 
 
 When such disorders of the imagination have 
 been long confirmed by habit, the evil may perhaps 
 be beyond a remedy ; but in their inferior degrees, 
 much may be expected 'from our own efforts ; in 
 particular, from mingling gradually in the business 
 and amusements of the world ; or, if we have suf- 
 ficient force of mind for the exertion, from reso- 
 lutely plunging into those active and interesting 
 and hazardous scenes, which, by compelling us to 
 attend to external circumstances, may weaken the 
 impressions of imagination, and strengthen those 
 produced by realities. The advice of the poet, in 
 these cases, is equally beautiful and just : 
 
 " Go, soft enthusiast ! quit the cypress groves, 
 " Nor to the rivulet's lonely meanings tune 
 " Your sad complaint. Go, seek the cheerful haunts 
 ' Of men, and mingle with the bustling crowd ; 
 ' Lay schemes for wealth, or power, or fame, the wish 
 ' Of nobler minds, and push them night and day. 
 { Or join the caravan in quest of scenes 
 'New to your eyes, and shifting every hour, 
 ' Beyond the Alps, beyond the Appenines. 
 ' Or, more adventurous, rush into the field 
 * Where war grows hot ; and raging through the sky, 
 " The lofty trumpet swells the madd'ning soul ; 
 " And in the hardy camp and toilsome march, 
 " Forget all softer and less manly cares." * 
 
 The disordered state of mind to which these ob- 
 servations refer is the more interesting, that it is 
 chiefly incident to .men of uncommon sensibility 
 and genius. It has been often remarked, that 
 
 * Armstrong.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN. MIND. 519 
 
 there is a connexion between genius and melan- 
 choly ; and there is one sense of the word melan- 
 choly, in which the remark is undoubtedly true ; a 
 sense which it may be difficult to define, but in 
 which it implies nothing either gloomy or male- 
 volent. * This, I think, is not only confirmed by 
 facts, but may be inferred from some principles 
 which were formerly stated on the subject of in- 
 vention ; for as the disposition now alluded to has 
 a tendency to retard the current of thought, and to 
 collect the attention of the mind, it is peculiarly 
 favourable to the discovery of those profound con^ 
 elusions which result from an accurate examination 
 of the less obvious relations among our ideas. 
 From the same principles too, may be traced some 
 of the effects which situation and early education 
 produce on the intellectual character. Among the 
 natives of wild and solitary countries we may ex. 
 pect to meet with sublime exertions of poetical 
 imagination and of philosophical research ; while 
 those men whose attention has been dissipated 
 from infancy amidst the bustle of the world, and 
 whose current of thought has been trained to 
 yield and accommodate itself every moment, to 
 the rapid succession of trifles, which diversify 
 fashionable life, acquire, without any effort on their 
 part, the intellectual habits which are favourable to 
 gaiety, vivacity, and wit, 
 
 When a man, under the habitual influence of a 
 warm imagination, is obliged to mingle occasionally 
 
 Tt Tram; oerot 
 
 i TroiWJy, *1 TEj^va,-, (fawovrai 
 
 ARISTOT. Problem, sect. xxx. 
 L L 4
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII, 
 
 in the scenes of real business, he is perpetually in 
 danger of being misled by his own enthusiasm. 
 What we call good sense in the conduct of life, 
 consists chiefly in that temper of mind which en- 
 ables its possessor to view, at all times, with per- 
 fect coolness and accuracy, all the various circum- 
 stances of his situation ; so that each of them may 
 produce its due impression on him without any 
 exaggeration arising from his own peculiar habits. 
 But to a man of an ill-regulated imagination, ex- 
 ternal circumstances only serve as hints to excite 
 his own thoughts, and the conduct he pursues has, 
 in general, far less reference to his real situation, 
 than to some imaginary one, in which he conceives 
 himself to be placed: in consequence of which, 
 while he appears to himself to be acting with the 
 most perfect wisdom and consistency, he may fre- 
 quently exhibit to others all the appearances of 
 folly. Such, pretty nearly, seems to be the idea 
 which the Author * of the " Reflexions on the 
 " Character and Writings of Rousseau," has formed 
 of that extraordinary man. " His faculties," we 
 are told " were slow in their operation, but his 
 " heart was ardent: it was in consequence of his 
 " own meditations that he became impassioned : he 
 " discovered no sudden emotions, but all his feel- 
 " ings grew upon reflexion. It has, perhaps, hap- 
 " pened to him to fall in love gradually with a 
 " woman, by dwelling on the idea of her during 
 " her absence. Sometimes he .would part with 
 " you with all his former affection ; but if an ex- 
 " pression had escaped you, which might bear an 
 * Madame de STAEL HOLSTEIN.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 521 
 
 " unfavourable construction, he would recollect it, 
 " examine it, exaggerate it, perhaps dwell upon it 
 " for a month, and conclude by a total breach with 
 " you. Hence it was, that there was scarce a pos- 
 " sibility of undeceiving him j for the light which 
 " broke in upon him at once was not sufficient to 
 " efface the wrong impressions which had taken 
 " place so gradually in his mind. It was extremely 
 " difficult, too, to continue long on an intimate 
 " footing with him. A word, a gesture, furnished 
 " him with matter of profound meditation : he 
 " connected the most trifling circumstances like so 
 " many mathematical propositions, and conceived 
 " his conclusions to be supported by the evidence 
 " of demonstration. I believe," continues this in- 
 genious writer, " that imagination was the strong- 
 " est of his faculties, and that it had almost absorbed 
 " all the rest. He dreamed rather than existed, 
 " and the events of his life might be said, more 
 '* properly, to have passed in his mind, than with- 
 " out him : a mode of being, one should have 
 " thought, that ought to have secured him from 
 " distrust, as it prevented him from observation ; 
 " but the truth was, it did not hinder him from at- 
 " tempting to observe ; it only rendered his ob- 
 " servations erroneous. That his soul was tender, 
 " no one can doubt, after having read his works ; 
 " but his imagination sometimes interposed be- 
 " tween his reason and his affections, and destroyed 
 " their influence : he appeared sometimes void of 
 " sensibility j but it was because he did not per- 
 " ceive objects such as they were. Had he seen
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " them with our eyes, his heart would have been 
 " more affected than ours." 
 
 In this very striking description we see the melan- 
 choly picture of sensibility and genius approaching 
 to insanity. It is a case, probably, that but rarely 
 occurs, in the extent here described : but, I believe, 
 there is no man who has lived much in the world, 
 who will not trace many resembling features to it, 
 in the circle of his own acquaintances : perhaps 
 there are few, who have not been occasionally con- 
 scious of some resemblance to it in themselves. 
 
 To these observations we may add, that by an 
 excessive indulgence in the pleasures of imagin- 
 ation, the taste may acquire a fastidious refinement 
 unsuitable to the present situation of human nature ; 
 and those intellectual and moral habits, which 
 ought to be formed by actual experience of the 
 world, may be gradually so accommodated to the 
 dreams of poetry and romance, as to disqualify us 
 for the scene in which we are destined to act. 
 Such a distempered state of the mind is an endless 
 source of error; more particularly when we are 
 placed in those critical situations, in which our 
 conduct determines our future happiness or misery ; 
 and which, on account of this extensive influence 
 on human life, form the principal ground-work 
 of fictitious composition. The effect of novels, in 
 misleading the passions of youth, with respect to 
 the most interesting and important of all re- 
 lations, is one of the many instances of the incon- 
 veniences resulting from an ill-regulated imagin- 
 ation.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 523 
 
 The passion of love has been, in every age, the 
 favourite subject of the poets, and has given birth 
 to the finest productions of human genius. These 
 are the natural delight of the young and suscep- 
 tible, long before the influence of the passions is 
 felt ; and from these a romantic mind forms to it- 
 self an ideal model of beauty and perfection, and 
 becomes enamoured with its own creation. On a 
 heart which has been long accustomed to be thus 
 warmed by the imagination, the excellencies of real 
 characters make but a slight impression : and, ac- 
 cordingly, it will be found, that men of a romantic 
 turn, unless when under the influence of violent 
 passions, are seldom attached to a particular object. 
 Where, indeed, such a turn is united with a warmth 
 of temperament, the effects are different ; but they 
 are equally fatal to happiness. As the distinctions 
 which exist among real characters are confounded 
 by false and exaggerated conceptions of ideal per- 
 fection, the choice is directed to some object by 
 caprice and accident ; a slight resemblance is mis- 
 taken for an exact coincidence ; and the descrip- 
 tions of the poet and novelist are applied literally 
 to an individual, who perhaps falls short of the 
 common standard of excellence. " I am certain," 
 says the Author last quoted, in her account of the 
 character of Rousseau, " that he never formed an 
 " attachment which was not founded on caprice. 
 " It was illusions alone that could captivate his 
 " passions ; and it was necessary for him always to 
 " accomplish his mistress from his own fancy. I 
 " am certain also," she adds, " that the woman 
 " whom he loved the most, and perhaps the only
 
 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 " woman whom he loved constantly, was his own 
 " Julie." 
 
 In the case of this particular passion, the effects 
 of a romantic imagination are obvious to the most 
 careless observer ; and they have often led moral- 
 ists to regret, that a temper of mind so dangerous 
 to happiness^ should have received so much en- 
 couragement from some writers of our own age, 
 who might have employed their genius to better 
 purposes. These, however, are not the only effects 
 which such habits of study have on the character. 
 Some others, which are not so apparent at first 
 view, have a tendency, not only to mislead us where 
 our own happiness is at stake, but to defeat the 
 operation of those active principles, which were in- 
 tended to unite us to society. The manner in 
 which imagination influences the mind, in the in- 
 stances which I allude to at present, is curious, and 
 deserves a more particular explanation. 
 
 I shall have occasion afterwards to shew *, in 
 treating of our moral 'powers, that experience di- 
 minishes the influence of passive impressions on the 
 mind, but strengthens our active principles. A 
 course of debauchery deadens the sense of pleasure, 
 but increases the desire of gratification. An im- 
 moderate use of strong liquors destroys the sen- 
 sibility of the palate, but strengthens the habit of 
 intemperance. The enjoyments we derive from 
 any favourite pursuit gradually decay as we ad- 
 vance in years : and yet we continue to prosecute 
 
 * The following reasoning was suggested to me by a passage 
 in Butler's Analogy, which the reader will find in k Note U] at 
 the end of the volume.
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 525 . 
 
 our favourite pursuits with increasing steadiness 
 
 and vigour. 
 
 On these two laws of our nature is founded our ca- 
 pacity of moral improvement. In proportion as we 
 are accustomed to obey our sense of duty, the in- 
 fluence of the temptations to vice is diminished ; 
 while, at the same time, our habit of virtuous con-, 
 duct is confirmed. How many passive impressions, 
 for instance, must be overcome, before the virtue 
 of beneficence can exert itself uniformly and habit- 
 ually ! How many circumstances are there in the 
 distresses of others, which have a tendency to ali- 
 enate our hearts from them, and which prompt us 
 to withdraw from the sight of the miserable ! The 
 impressions we receive from these are unfavourable 
 to virtue: their force, however, every day diminish- 
 es, and it may, perhaps, by perseverance, be wholly 
 destroyed. It is thus that the character of the be- 
 neficent man is formed. The passive impressions 
 which he felt originally, and which counteracted his 
 sense of duty, have lost their influence, and a habit 
 of beneficence is become part of his nature. 
 
 It must be owned, that this reasoning may, in 
 part, be retorted ; for among those passive impres- 
 sions, which are weakened by repetition, there are 
 some which have a beneficial tendency. The un- 
 easiness, in particular, which the sight of distress 
 occasions, is a strong incentive to acts of humanity ; 
 and it cannot be denied that it is lessened by expe- 
 rience. This might naturally lead us to expect, that 
 the young, and unpractised would be more disposed 
 to perform beneficent actions, than those who are 
 advanced in life, and who have been familiar with
 
 526 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap* VII. 
 
 scenes of misery. And, in truth, the fact would be 
 so, were it not that the effect of custom on this pas- 
 sive impression is counteracted by its effects on 
 others ; and, above all, by its influence in strength- 
 ening the active habit of beneficence. An old and 
 experienced physician is less affected by the sight 
 of bodily pain, than a younger practitioner ; but he 
 has acquired a more confirmed habit of assisting the 
 sick and helpless, and would offer greater violence 
 to his nature, if he should with-hold from them any 
 relief that he has in his power to bestow. In this 
 case, w r e see a beautiful provision made for our moral 
 improvement, as the effects of experience on one 
 part of our constitution are made to counteract its 
 effects on another. 
 
 If the foregoing observations be well founded, it 
 will follow, that habits of virtue are not to be form- 
 ed in retirement, but by mingling in the scenes of 
 active life, and that an habitual attention to exhi- 
 bitions of fictitious distress, is not merely useless to 
 the character, but positively hurtful. 
 
 It will not, I think, be disputed, that the frequent 
 perusal of pathetic compositions diminishes the un- 
 easiness which they are naturally fitted to excite. 
 A person who indulges habitually in such studies, 
 may feel a growing desire of his usual gratification, 
 but he is every day less and less affected by the 
 scenes which are presented to him. I believe it 
 would be difficult to find an actor long hackneyed 
 on the stage, who is capable of being completely 
 interested by the distresses of a tragedy. The ef- 
 fect of such compositions and representations, in ren- 
 dering the mind callous to actual distress, is still
 
 Sect. 5. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 greater ; for as the imagination of the Poet almost 
 always carries him beyond truth and nature, a fa- 
 miliarity with the tragic scenes which he exhibits, 
 can hardly fail to deaden the impression produced 
 by the comparatively trifling sufferings which the or- 
 dinary course of human affairs presents to us. In 
 real life, a provision is made for this gradual decay 
 of sensibility, by the proportional decay of other 
 passive impressions, which have an opposite tenden- 
 cy, and by the additional force which our active 
 habits are daily acquiring. Exhibitions of fictitious 
 distress, while they produce the former change on 
 the character, have no influence in producing the 
 latter : on the contrary, they tend to strengthen 
 those passive impressions which counteract benefi- 
 cence. The scenes into which the Novelist intro- 
 duces us are, in general, perfectly unlike those which 
 occur in the world. As his object is to please, he 
 removes from his descriptions every circumstance 
 which is disgusting, and presents us with histories 
 of elegant and dignified distress. It is not such 
 scenes that human life exhibits. We have to act, 
 not with refined and elevated characters, but with 
 the mean, the illiterate, the vulgar, and the profli- 
 gate. The perusal of fictitious history has a ten- 
 dency to increase that disgust which we naturally 
 feel at the concomitants of distress, and to cultivate 
 a false refinement of taste, inconsistent with our con- 
 dition as members of society. Nay, it is possible 
 for this refinement to be carried so far, as to with., 
 draw a man from the duties of life, and even from 
 the sight of those distresses which he might allevi- 
 ate. And, accordingly, many are to be found, .who
 
 528 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 if the situations of romance were realised, would not 
 fail to display the virtues of their favourite charac- 
 ters, whose sense of duty is not sufficiently strong 
 to engage them in the humble and private scenes 
 of human misery. 
 
 To these effects of fictitious history we may add, 
 that it gives no exercise to our active habits. In 
 real life, we proceed from the passive impression to 
 those exertions which it was intended to produce. 
 In the contemplation of imaginary sufferings, we 
 stop short at the impression, and whatever benevo- 
 lent dispositions we may feel, we have no opportu- 
 nity of carrying them into action. 
 
 From these reasonings it appears, that an habi- 
 tual attention to exhibitions of fictitious distress, is 
 in every view calculated to check our moral improve- 
 ment. It diminishes that uneasiness which we feel 
 at the sight of distress, and which prompts us to re- 
 lieve it. It strengthens that disgust which the loath- 
 some concomitants of distress excite in the mind, 
 and which prompts us to avoid the sight of misery; 
 while, at the same time, it has no tendency to con- 
 firm those habits of active beneficence, without 
 which, the best dispositions are useless. I would 
 not, however, be understood to disapprove entirely 
 of fictitious narratives, or of pathetic compositions, 
 On the contrary, I think that the perusal of them 
 may be attended with advantage, when the effects 
 which I have mentioned are corrected by habits of 
 real business. They soothe the mind when ruffled 
 by the rude intercourse of society, and stealing the 
 attention insensibly from our own cares, substitute, 
 instead of discontent and distress, a tender and
 
 Sect. 6. OP THE HUMAN MIND. 529 
 
 pleasing melancholy. By exhibitions of characters 
 a little elevated above the common standard, they 
 have a tendency to cultivate the taste in life ; to 
 quicken our disgust at what is mean or offensive, and 
 to form tfre mind insensibly to elegance and dignity. 
 Their tendency to cultivate the powers of moral 
 perception has never been disputed ; and when the 
 influence of such perceptions is powerfully felt, and 
 is united with an active and manly temper, they ren- 
 der the character not only more amiable, but more 
 happy in itself, and more useful to others ; for al- 
 though a rectitude of judgment with respect to con- 
 duct, and strong moral feelings, do, by no means, 
 alone constitute virtue ; yet they are frequently ne- 
 cessary to direct our behaviour in the more critical 
 situations of life ; and they increase the interest we 
 take in the general prosperity of virtue in the world. 
 I believe, likewise, that, by means of fictitious his- 
 tory, displays of character may be most successfully 
 given, and the various weaknesses of the heart ex- 
 posed. I only mean to insinuate, that a taste for 
 them may be carried too far ; that the sensibility 
 which terminates in imagination, is but a refined and 
 selfish luxury ; and that nothing can effectually ad- 
 vance our moral improvement, but an attention to 
 the active duties which belong to our stations. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Continuation of the same Subject. Important Uses to ivhich the 
 Power of Imagination is sitbservient. 
 
 THE faculty of imagination is the great spring of 
 human activity, and the principal source of human 
 
 M M
 
 530 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 improvement. As it delights in presenting to the 
 mind scenes and characters more perfect than those 
 which we are acquainted with, jt prevents us from 
 ever being completely satisfied with our present con- 
 dition, or with our past attainments ; and engages 
 us continually in the pursuit of some untried en- 
 joyment, or of some ideal excellence. Hence the 
 ardour of the selfish to better their fortunes, and to 
 add to their personal accomplishments ; and hence 
 the zeal of the Patriot and the Philosopher to ad- 
 vance the virtue and the happiness of the human 
 race. Destroy this faculty, and the condition of man 
 will become as stationary as that of the brutes. 
 
 When the notions of enjoyment or of excellence 
 which imagination has formed, are greatly raised 
 above the ordinary standard, they interest the pas- 
 sions too deeply to leave us at all times the cool ex- 
 ercise of reason, and produce that state of the mind 
 which is commonly known by the name of Enthusi- 
 asm j a temper which is one of the most fruitful 
 sources of error and disappointment ; but which is 
 a source, at the same time, of heroic actions and of 
 exalted characters. To the exaggerated concep- 
 tions of eloquence which perpetually revolved in 
 the mind of Cicero ; to that idea which haunted his 
 thoughts of aUquid intfnensum infinitumque / we are 
 indebted for some of the most splendid displays of 
 human genius ; and it is probable that something of 
 the same kind has been felt by every man who has 
 risen much above the level of humanity, either in 
 speculation or in action. It is happy for the indi- 
 vidual, when these enthusiastic desires are directed 
 to events which do not depend on the caprice of 
 fortune.
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 The pleasure we receive from the higher kinds of 
 poetry takes rise, in part, from that dissatisfaction 
 which the objects of imagination inspire us with, 
 for the scenes, the events, and the characters, with 
 which our senses are conversant. Tired and dis- 
 gusted with this world of imperfection, we delight 
 to escape to another of the poet's creation, where 
 the charms of nature wear an eternal bloom, and 
 where sources of enjoyment are opened to us, 
 suited to the vast capacities of the human mind. 
 On this natural love of poetical fiction, Lord Bacon 
 has founded a very ingenious argument for the soul's 
 immortality ; and, indeed, one of the most import- 
 ant purposes to which it is subservient, is to elevate 
 the mind above the pursuits of our present con- 
 dition, and to direct the views to higher objects. 
 In the mean time, it is rendered subservient also, in 
 an eminent degree, to the improvement and hap- 
 piness of mankind, by the tendency which it has to 
 accelerate the progress of society. 
 
 As the pictures which the poet presents to us are 
 never (even in works of pure description) faithful 
 copies from nature, but are always meant to be im- 
 provements on the original she affords, it cannot be 
 doubted that they must have some effect in refining 
 and exalting our taste, both with respect to material 
 beauty, and to the objects of our pursuit in life. 
 It has been alledged, that the works of our descrip- 
 tive poets have contributed to diffuse that taste for 
 picturesque beauty, which is so prevalent in Eng- 
 land, and to recal the public admiration from the 
 fantastic decorations of art, to the more powerful 
 and permanent charms of cultivated nature j and 
 
 M M 2 : v--
 
 532 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. Vlt 
 
 it is certain, that the first ardours of many an illus- 
 trious character have been kindled by the com- 
 positions of Homer and Virgil. It is difficult to 
 say, to what a degree, in the earlier periods of society, 
 the rude compositions of the bard and the minstrel 
 may have been instrumental in humanizing the 
 minds of savage warriors, and in accelerating the 
 growth of cultivated manners. Among the Scan- 
 dinavians and the Celtse we know r that this order of 
 men was held in very peculiar veneration ; and, ac- 
 cordingly, it would appear, from the monuments 
 which remain of these nations, that they were dis- 
 tinguished by a delicacy in the passion of love, and 
 by a humanity and generosity to the vanquished in 
 war, which seldom appear among barbarous tribes ; 
 and with which it is hardly possible to conceive how 
 men in such a state of society could have been in- 
 spired, but by a separate class of individuals in the 
 community, who devoted themselves to the pacific 
 profession of poetry, and to the cultivation of that 
 creative power of the mind, which anticipates the 
 course of human affairs ; and presents, in prophetic 
 vision, to the poet and the philosopher, the blessings 
 which accompany the progress of reason and refine- 
 ment. 
 
 Nor must we omit to mention the important ef- 
 fects of imagination in multiplying the sources of 
 innocent enjoyment, beyond what this limited scene 
 affords. Not to insist on the nobler efforts of 
 genius, which have rendered this part of our con- 
 stitution subservient to moral improvement ; how 
 much has the sphere of our happiness been ex- 
 tended by those agreeable fictions which introduce 
 us to new worlds, and make us acquainted with
 
 Sect. 6. OF THE HUMAN MIND. 533 
 
 new orders of being ! What a fund of amusement, 
 through life, is prepared for one who reads, in his 
 childhood, the fables of ancient Greece ! They 
 dwell habitually on the memory, and are ready, at 
 all times, to fill up the intervals of business, or of 
 serious reflexion ; and in his hours of rural retire- 
 ment and leisure, they warm his mind with the fire 
 of ancient genius, and animate every scene he enters, 
 with the offspring of classical fancy. 
 
 It is, however, chiefly in painting future scenes 
 that Imagination loves to indulge herself, and her 
 prophetic dreams are almost always favourable to 
 happiness. By an erroneous education, indeed, it 
 is possible to render this faculty an instrument of 
 constant and of exquisite distress ; but in such cases 
 (abstracting from the influence of a constitutional 
 melancholy) the distresses of a gloomy imagination 
 are to be ascribed not to nature, but to the force of 
 early impressions. 
 
 The common bias of the mind undoubtedly is, 
 (such is the benevolent appointment of 'Providence,) 
 to think favourably of the future ; to overvalue the 
 chances of possible good, and to under-rate the 
 risks of possible evil ; and in the case of some for- 
 tunate individuals, this disposition remains after a 
 thousand disappointments. To what this bias of 
 our nature is owing, it is not material for us to in- 
 quire : the fact is certain, and it is an important 
 one to our happiness. It supports us under the 
 real distresses of life, and cheers and animates all 
 our labours : and although it is sometimes apt to 
 produce, in a weak and indolent mind, those de- 
 ceitful suggestions of ambition and vanity, which 
 
 M M 3
 
 534 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY Chap. VII. 
 
 lead us to sacrifice the duties and the comforts of 
 the present moment, to romantic hopes and expec- 
 tations ; yet it must be acknowledged, when 
 connected with habits of activity, and regulated 
 by a solid judgment, to have a favourable effect 
 on the character, by inspiring that ardour and 
 enthusiasm which both prompt to great enterprises, 
 and are necessary to ensure their success. When 
 such a temper is united (as it commonly is) with 
 pleasing notions, concerning the order of the uni- 
 verse, and in particular concerning the condition 
 and the prospects of man, it places our happiness, 
 in a great measure, beyond the power of fortune. 
 While it adds a double relish to every enjoyment, it 
 blunts the edge of all our sufferings ; and even when 
 human life presents to us no object on which our 
 hopes can rest, it invites the imagination beyond 
 the dark and troubled horizon which terminates 
 all our earthly prospects, to wander unconfined in 
 the regions of futurity. A man of benevolence, 
 whose mind is enlarged by philosophy, will indulge 
 the same agreeable anticipations with respect to 
 society ; will view all the different improvements in 
 arts, in commerce, and in the sciences, as co-oper- 
 ating to promote the union, the happiness, and the 
 virtue of mankind ; and, amidst the political dis- 
 orders resulting from the prejudices and follies of 
 his own times, will look forward with transport, to 
 the blessings which are reserved for posterity in a 
 more enlightened age.
 
 NO T E S 
 
 AND 
 
 tfj 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 M M 4

 
 NOTES, &c. 
 
 NOTE [A], page 4. 
 
 I AM happy in being able to quote the following passage, 
 in illustration of a doctrine, against which I do not conceive 
 it possible to urge any thing, but the authority of some il- 
 lustrious names. 
 
 " Puisque 1'existence des corps n'est pour nous que la 
 
 permanence d'etres dont les proprietes repondent a un 
 
 " certain ordre de nos sensations, il en resulte qu'elle n'a 
 
 ** rien de plus certain que celle d'autres etres qui se mani- 
 
 ** festent egalement par leurs effets sur nous ; & puisque nos 
 
 *' observations sur nos propres facultes, confirmees par celles 
 
 *' <jue nous faisons sur les etres pensants qui animent aussi 
 
 u des corps, ne nous montrent aucune analogic entre 1'etre 
 
 ** qui sent ou qui pense & Petre qui nous offire le phenomene 
 
 *' de 1'etendue ou de 1'impenetrabilite, il n'y a aucune raison 
 
 " de croire ces etres de la meme nature. Ainsi la spiritualite 
 
 " de 1'ame n'est pas une opinion qui ait besoin de preuves, 
 
 " mais le resultat simple & naturel d'une analyse exacte de 
 
 " nos idees, & de nos facultes." 
 
 Vie de M. TURGOT par M. CONDORCET. 
 
 Des Cartes was the first philosopher who stated, in a clear 
 
 and satisfactory manner, the distinction between mind and 
 
 matter, and who pointed out the proper plan for studying 
 
 he intellectual phenomena. It is chiefly in consequence of
 
 SS8 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 his precise ideas with respect to this distinction, that we 
 may remark, in all his metaphysical writings, a perspi- 
 cuity which is not observable in those of any of his pre- 
 decessors. 
 
 Dr. Reid has remarked, that although Des Cartes infers 
 the existence of mind, from the operations of which we are 
 conscious, yet he could not reconcile himself to the notion 
 of an unknown substance, or substratum, to which these 
 operations belonged. And it was on this account, he con- 
 jectures, that he made the essence of the soul to consist in 
 thought; as, for a similar reason, he had made the essence 
 of matter to consist in extension. But I am afraid, that this 
 supposition is not perfectly reconcileable with Des Cartes' 
 writings ; for he repeatedly speaks with the utmost confidence 
 of the existence of substances of which we have only a rela- 
 tive idea ; and, even in attempting to shew that thought is 
 the essential attribute of mind, and extension of matter, he 
 considers them as nothing more than attributes or qualities 
 belonging to these substances. 
 
 " Per substantiam nihil aliud intelligere possumus, quam 
 " rem quae ita existit, ut nulla alia re indigeat ad existen- 
 " dum. Et quidem substantia quae nulla plane re indigeat, 
 " unica tantum potest intelligi, nempe Deus. Alias vero 
 " omnes, non nisi ope concursus Dei existere posse percipi- 
 " mus. Atque ideo nomen substantiae non convenit Deo et 
 " illis univoce ut dici solet in scholis ; hoc est, nulla ejus no- 
 " minis significatio, potest distincte intelligi, quae Deo, et 
 " creaturis sit communis. 
 
 " Possunt autem substantia corporea, et mens, sive sub- 
 " stantia cogitans, creata, sub hoc communi conceptu intel- 
 " ligi ; quod sint res, quae solo Dei concursu egent ad exis- 
 " tendum. Verumtamen non potest substantia primum ani- 
 " madverti ex hoc solo, quod sit res existens, quia hoc solum 
 s< per se nos non afficit : sed facile ipsam agnoscimus ex 
 " quolibet ejus attribute, per communem illam notionem, 
 " quod nihili nulla sunt attributa, nullaeve proprietates aut 
 " qualitates. Ex hoc enim, quod aliquod attributuni adesse
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 539 
 
 " percipiamus, concludimus aliquam rem existentem, sive 
 " substantiam'cui illud tribui possit, necessario etiam adesse. 
 
 " Et quidem ex quolibet attribute substantia cognoscitur : 
 " sed una tamen est cujusque substantiae praecipua proprietas, 
 " quas ipsius naturam essentiamque constituit, et ad quam 
 " alias omnes referuntur. Nempe extensio in longum, la- 
 " turn et profundum substantiaa corporeae naturam consti- 
 (t tuit; et cogitatio constituit naturam substantiaa cogitantis." 
 Princip. Philosoph. pars i. cap. 51, 52, 53. 
 
 In stating the relative notions which we have of mind and 
 of body, I have avoided the use of the word substance^ as I 
 am unwilling to furnish the slightest occasion for contro- 
 versy ; and have contented myself with defining mind to be 
 that which feels, thinks, wills, hopes, fears, desires, &c. 
 That my consciousness of these and other operations is 
 necessarily accompanied with a conviction of my own ex- 
 istence, and with a conviction that all of them belong to one 
 and the same being, is not an hypothesis, but a fact ; of 
 which it is no more possible for me to doubt, than of the 
 reality of my own sensations or volitions. 
 
 NOTE [B], page 68. 
 
 DOCTOR REID remarks, that Des Cartes rejected a part 
 only of the ancient theory of perception, and adopted the 
 other part. " That theory," says he, " may be divided 
 " into two parts: the first, that images, species, or forms of 
 " external objects, come from the object, and enter by the 
 '* avenues of the senses to the mind : the second part is, that 
 " the external object itself is not perceived, but only the 
 " species or image of it in the mind. The first part, Des 
 " Cartes and his followers rejected and refuted by solid ar- 
 " guments ; but the second part, neither he nor his followers 
 " have thought of calling in question ; being persuaded that 
 " it is only a representative image in the mind of the exter- 
 " nal object that we perceive, and not the object itself. 
 ** And this image, which the peripatetics called a species,
 
 540 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " he calls an idea, changing the name only, while he admits 
 " the thing." 
 
 The account which this passage contains of Des Cartes' 
 doctrine concerning perception, is, I believe, agreeable to 
 his prevailing opinion, as it may be collected from the general 
 tenor of his writings ; and the observation with which it 
 concludes is undoubtedly true, that neither he nor any of his 
 followers ever called in question the existence of ideas, as the 
 immediate objects of our perception. With respect, how- 
 ever, to the first part of the ancient theory, as here stated, 
 it may be proper to remark, that Des Cartes, although evi- 
 dently by no means satisfied with it, sometimes expresses 
 himself as if he rather doubted of it, than expressly denied 
 it; and at other times, when pressed with objections to his 
 own particular system, he admits, at least in part, the truth 
 of it. The following passage is one of the most explicit I 
 recollect, in opposition to the ancient doctrine. 
 
 ** Observandum praeterea, animam, nullis imaginibus ab 
 " objectis ad cerebrum missis egere ut sentiat, (contra quam 
 " communiter philosophi nostri statuunt,) aut ad minimum 
 " longe aliter illarum imaginum naturam concipiendam esse 
 " quam vulgo fit. Quum enim circa eas nil considerent, 
 " praeter similitudinem earum cum objectis quae repraesent- 
 " ant, non possunt explicare, qua ratione ab objectis formari 
 " queant, et recipi ab organis sensuum exteriorum, et de- 
 " mum nervis ad cerebrum transvehi. Nee alia causa ima- 
 '* gines istas fingere eos impulit, nisi quod viderent mentem 
 " nostram efficaciter pictura excitari ad apprehendendum 
 " objectum illud, quod exhibet : ex hoc enim judicarunt, 
 " illani eodem modo excitandam, ad apprehendenda ea quae 
 " sensus movent, per exiguas quasdam imagines, in capite 
 " nostro delineatas. Sed nobis contra est advertendum, 
 " multa praeter imagines esse, quae cogitationes excitant, ut 
 " exempli gratia, verba et signa, nullo modo similia iis quae 
 " significant." Dioptric, cap. 4. . 6. 
 
 In his third meditation (which contains his celebrated argu- 
 ment for the existence of a Deity) the following passage occurs*
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 541 
 
 ** Sed hie praecipue de iis est quaerendum quas tanquam a 
 ** rebus extra me existentibus desumptas considero, quaenam 
 ** me moveat ratio ut illas istis rebus similes esse existimem ; 
 " nempe ita videor doctus a natura, et praeterea experior illas 
 " non a mea voluntate nee proinde a me ipso pendere, saepe 
 " enim vel invito obversantur, ut jam, sive velim sive nolim, 
 " sentio calorem, et ideo puto sensum ilium, sive ideam 
 " caloris a re a me diversa, nempe ab ignis, cui assideo 
 " calore mihi advenire, nihilque magis obvium est, quam 
 " ut judicem istam rem suam similitudinem potius, quam 
 " aliud quid in me immittere ; quae rationes an satis firmae 
 ** sint, jam videbo. Cum hie dico me ita doctum esse a 
 " natura, intelligo tantum spontaneo quodam impetu me 
 " ferri ad hoc credendum, non lumine aliquo naturali mihi 
 * 6 ostendi esse verum, quae duo multum discrepant, nam 
 " quaecumque lumine naturali mihi ostenduntur, (ut quod 
 <e ex eo quod dubitem sequatur me esse, et similia,) nullo 
 " modo dubia esse possunt quia nulla alia facultas esse 
 fl potest, cui aeque fidam ac lumini isti, quaeque ilia non 
 " vera possit docere ; sed quantum ad impetus naturales, jam 
 " ssepe olim judicavi me ab illis in deteriorem partem fuisse 
 *' impulsum cum de bono eligendo ageretur, nee video cur 
 *' iisdem in ulla alia re magis fidam. Deinde quamvis ideae 
 " illae a voluntate mea non pendeant, non ideo constat ipsas 
 * { a rebus extra me positis necessario procedere ; ut enim 
 " impetus illi, de quibus mox loquebar, quamvis in me sint, 
 " a voluntate tarn en mea diversi esse videntur, ita forte etiam 
 *' aliqua alia est in me facultas nondum mihi satis cognita 
 " istarum idearum effectrix, ut hactenus semper visum est 
 " illas, dum somnio, absque ulla rerum externarum ope in 
 " me formari ; ac denique quamvis a rebus a me diversis 
 " proeederent, non indesequitur illas rebus istis similes esse 
 " debere ; quinimo in multis saepe magnum discrimen videor 
 " deprehendisse ; sic, exempli causa, duas diversas solis ideas 
 " apud me invenio, unam tanquam a sensibus haustam, et 
 " quas maxime inter illas quas adventitias existimo est re- 
 *' censenda, per quam mihi valde parvus apparet 5 aliam
 
 542 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " vero ex rationibus astrorvomiae desumptam, hoc est ex jjo- 
 " tionibus quibusdam mihi innatis elicitara vel quocumque 
 " alio modo a me tactaro, per quam aliquoties major quam 
 " terra exhibetur ; utraque profecto similis eidem soli extra 
 " me existent! esse non potest, et ratio persuadet illam ei 
 " maxime esse dissimilem, quae quam proxime ab ipso vide- 
 " tur emanasse. Quae omnia satis demonstrant me non hac- 
 " tenus ex certo judicio, sed tan turn ex cseco aliquo impulsu 
 ** credidisse res quasdam a me diversis existere, quaa ideas 
 " sive imagines suas per organa sensuum, vel quolibet alio 
 " pacto mihi immittant." 
 
 Among other animadversions upon this meditation sent to 
 Des Cartes by one of his correspondents, it is objected ; 
 " Videris vertere in dubium non tantum utrum ideas aliquae 
 " procedant ex rebus externis, sed etiam utrum omnino sint 
 " externae res aliquae." To which Des Cartes answers : 
 " Notandum est, me non affirmasse ideas rerum materialium 
 " ex mente deduci, ut non satis bona fide hie fingis ; ex* 
 " presse enim postea ostendi ipsas a corporibus saepe ad- 
 " venire, ac per hoc corporum existentiam probari." , 
 
 Vide Objectiones in Meditationes Renati Des Cartes, 
 cum ejusdem ad illas Responsionibus. 
 
 NOTE [C.], page 71. 
 
 IN consequence of the inferences which Mr. Hume has 
 deduced from this doctrine concerning cause and effect, 
 some later authors have been led to dispute its truth ; not 
 perceiving that the fallacy of this part of Mr. Hume's sys- 
 tem does not consist in his premises, but in the conclusion 
 which he draws from them. 
 
 That the object of the physical inquirer is not to trace 
 necessary connexions, or to ascertain the efficient causes of 
 phenomena, is a principle which has been frequently ascribed 
 to Mr. Hume as its author, both by his followers and by 
 his opponents ; but it is, in fact, of a much earlier date, 
 and has been maintained by many of the most enlightened,
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 543 
 
 and the least sceptical of our modern philosophers : nor do I 
 know that it was ever suspected to have a dangerous tendency, 
 till the publication of Mr. Hume's writings. " If we except," 
 (says Dr. Barrow) " the mutual causality and dependence of 
 " the terms of a mathematical demonstration, I do not think 
 " that there is any other causality in the nature of things, 
 " wherein a necessary consequence can be founded* Logi- 
 " cians do indeed boast of I do not know what kind of de- 
 " monstrations from external causes either efficient or filial, 
 " but without being able to shew one genuine example of 
 " any such ; nay, I imagine it is impossible for them so to 
 " do. For there can be no such connexion of an external 
 " efficient cause with its effect," (at least none such can be 
 understood by us,) " through which, strictly speaking, the 
 " effect is necessarily supposed by the supposition of the 
 " efficient cause, or any determinate cause by the supposition 
 " of the effect." He adds afterwards, " Therefore there 
 " can be no argumentation from an efficient cause to the 
 " effect, or from an effect to the cause which is lawfully 
 " necessary." Mathematical Lectures read at Cambridge. 
 
 Dr. Butler too, in his discourse on the ignorance of man, 
 has remarked, that " it is in general no more than effects, 
 " that the most knowing are acquainted with; for as to 
 " causes they are entirely in the dark as the most igno- 
 " rant." " What are the laws," (he continues,) " by which 
 " matter acts on matter, but certain effects, which some 
 " having observed to be frequently repeated, have reduced 
 " to general rules ?" BUTLER'S Sermons. 
 
 " The laws of attraction and repulsion," (says Dr. Berke- 
 ley,) " are to be regarded as laws of motion, and these only 
 " as rules or methods observed in the productions of natural 
 " effects, the efficient and final causes whereof are not of 
 " mechanical consideration. Certainly, if the explaining a 
 " phenomenon be to assign its proper efficient and final 
 " cause, it should seem the mechanical philosophers never 
 " explained any thing ; their province being only to discover 
 "the laws of nature; that is v the general rules and method 
 
 II
 
 544 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " of motion ; and to account for particular phenomena, by 
 " reducing them under, or shewing their conformity to such 
 " general rules." SIRIS : or, Philosophical Inquiries concern- 
 ing the Virtues of Tar Water, p. 108. 
 
 " The words attraction and repulsion may, in compliance 
 " with custom, be used where, accurately speaking, motion 
 " alone is meant." Ibid. p. 114. 
 
 " Attraction cannot produce, and in that sense account, 
 *' for the phenomena; being itself one of the phenomena 
 " produced and to be accounted for." Ibid. p. 115. 
 
 " There is a certain analogy, constancy, and uniformity in 
 " the phenomena or appearances of nature, which are a 
 " foundation for general rules : and these are a grammar for 
 " the understanding of nature, or that series of effects in the 
 " visible world, whereby we are enabled to foresee what will 
 " come to pass in the natural course of things. Plotinus 
 " observes, in his third Ennead, that the art of presaging, 
 " is in some sort the reading of natural letters denoting 
 " order, and that so far forth as analogy obtains in the uni- 
 " verse, there may be vaticination. And in reality, he that 
 " foretells the motions of the planets, or the effects of me- 
 " dicines, or the result of chemical or mechanical experi- 
 " ments, may be said to do it by natural vaticination." 
 
 Ibid. p. 120, 121. 
 
 " Instruments, occasions, and signs, occur in, or rather 
 " make up, the whole visible course of nature." Ib. p. 1 23. 
 
 The following very remarkable passage from Mr. Locke 
 shews clearly, that this eminent philosopher considered the 
 connexion between impulse and motion, as a conjunction 
 which we learn from experience only ; and not as a conse- 
 quence deducible from the consideration of impulse, by any 
 reasoning a priori. The passage is the more curious, that 
 it is this particular application of Mr. Hume's doctrine, that 
 has been generally supposed to furnish the strongest objec- 
 tion against it. 
 
 " Another idea we have of body* is the power of eom- 
 " raunicating motion by impulse ; and of our souls, the
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 545 
 
 u power of exciting motion by thought. These ideas, the 
 " one of body, the other of our minds, every day's experi- 
 <c ence clearly furnishes us with : but if here again we in- 
 " quire how this is done, we are equally in the dark. For 
 <( in the communication of motion by impulse, wherein as 
 " much motion is lost to one body, as is got to the other, 
 " which is the ordinariest case, we can have no other con- 
 " ception, but of the passing of motion out of the one into 
 " another ; which I think is as obscure and inconceivable, 
 *' as how our minds move or stop our bodies by thought, 
 " which we every moment find they do." 
 
 " The communication of motion by thought, 
 
 *' which we ascribe to spirit, is as evident as that of im- 
 " pulse, which we ascribe to body. Constant experience 
 " makes us sensible of both of these, though our narrow 
 * f understandings can comprehend neither." 
 
 " To conclude, sensation convinces us, that there 
 
 < are solid extended substances ; and reflection, that there 
 "' are thinking ones : experience assures us of the existence 
 *' of such beings ; and that the one hath a power to move 
 
 " body by impulse, and the other by thought. If we 
 
 *' would inquire farther into their nature, causes, and man- 
 " ner, we perceive not the nature of extension clearer than 
 " we do of thinking. If we would explain them any 
 " farther, one is as easy as the other ; and there is no more 
 " difficulty to conceive, how a substance we know not, 
 " should by thought set body into motion, than how a 
 '* substance we know not, should by impulse set body into 
 " motion." LOCKE, bookii. chap. 23. 28, 29. 
 
 It is not indeed very easy to reconcile the foregoing ob- 
 servations, which are, in every respect, worthy of the saga- 
 city of this excellent philosopher, with the passage quoted 
 from him in page 81 of this work. 
 
 Some of Mr. Hume's reasonings concerning the nature of 
 the connexions among physical events, coincide perfectly 
 with' those of Malebranche on the same subject; but they 
 
 N N
 
 546 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 were employed by this last writer to support a very different 
 conclusion. 
 
 At a still earlier period, Hobbes expressed himself with 
 respect to physical connections, in terms so nearly approach- 
 ing to Mr. Hume's, that it is difficult to suppose that they 
 did not suggest to him the language which he has employed 
 on that subject. " What we call experience," (he remarks,) 
 " is nothing else but remembrance of what antecedents have 
 " been followed by what consequents." " No man," (he 
 continues,) " can have in his mind a conception of the fu- 
 " ture; for the future is not yet; but of our conceptions 
 " of the past we make a future, or rather call past, future 
 " relatively. Thus after a man hath been accustomed to 
 " see like antecedents followed by like consequents, when- 
 " soever he seeth the like come to pass to any thing he had 
 " seen before, he looks there should follow it the same that 
 " followed then. When a man hath so often observed 
 " like antecedents to be followed by like consequents, that 
 " whensoever he seeth the antecedent, he looketh again for 
 " the consequent, or when he seeth the consequent, maketh 
 " account there hath been the like antecedent, then he 
 " calleth both the antecedent and the consequent signs of 
 " one another." HOBBES' Tripos. 
 
 I am doubtful whether I should not add to these autho- 
 rities, that of Lord Bacon, who, although he has no where 
 formally stated the doctrine now under consideration, has 
 plainly taken it for granted in all his reasonings on the me- 
 thod of prosecuting philosophical inquiries ; for if we could 
 perceive in any instance the manner in which a cause pro- 
 duces its effect, we should be able to deduce the effect from 
 its cause by reasoning a priori ; the impossibility of which 
 he every where strongly inculcates. " Homo naturae minister 
 " et interpres tantum facit et intelligit quantum de naturae 
 " ordine re vel mente observaverit ; nee amplius scit aut 
 " potest." I acknowledge, at the same time, that, from the 
 general scope of Lord Bacon's writings, as well from some 
 
 5
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 547 
 
 particular expressions in them with regard to causes, I am 
 inclined to believe that his metaphysical notions on the sub- 
 ject were not very accurate, and that he was led to perceive 
 the necessity of recurring to observation and experiment in 
 natural philosophy, not from a speculative consideration of 
 our ignorance concerning necessary connections, but from a 
 conviction, founded on a review of the history of science, of 
 the insufficiency of those methods of inquiry which hispi*e- 
 decessors had pursued. The notion which the antients had 
 formed of the object of philosophy, (which they conceived 
 to be the investigation of efficient causes,) was the principal 
 circumstance which misled them in their researches : and 
 the erroneous opinions of Des Cartes on the same subject, 
 frustrated all the efforts of his great and inventive genius, 
 in the study of physics. " Perspicuum est," (says he, in 
 one passage,) " optimam philosophandi viam nos sequutu- 
 " ros, si ex ipsius Dei cognitione rerum ab eo creatarum 
 " cognitionem deducere conemur, ut ita scientiam perfec- 
 " tissimam quae est effectuum per causas acquiramus." * 
 
 The strong prejudice which has been entertained of late 
 against Mr. Hume's doctrine concerning the connection 
 among physical events, in consequence of the dangerous 
 conclusions to which it has erroneously been supposed to 
 lead, will, I hope, be a sufficient apology for multiplying so 
 many authorities in support of it. 
 
 NOTE [D], page 74. 
 
 X HIS language has ever been adopted by philosophers, 
 and by atheists as well as theists. The latter have 
 represented natural events as parts of a great chain, the 
 highest link of which is supported by the Deity. The 
 former have pretended, that there is no absurdity in sup- 
 posing the number of links to be infinite. Mr. Hume had 
 the merit of shewing clearly to philosophers, that our com- 
 
 * There is, I believe, reason to doubt if Des Cartes had ever read the 
 works of Bacon. 
 
 N N 2
 
 548 
 
 mon language, with respect to cause and effect, is merely 
 analogical; and that if there be any links among physical 
 events, they must for ever remain invisible to us. If this 
 part of his system be admitted ; and if, at the same time, 
 we admit the authority of that principle of the mind, which 
 leads us to refer every change to an efficient cause; Mr. 
 Hume's doctrine seems to be more favourable to theism, 
 than even the common notions upon this subject ; as it 
 keeps the Deity always in view, not only as the first, but as 
 the constantly operating efficient cause in nature, and as the 
 great connecting principle among all the various phenomena 
 which we observe. This, accordingly, was the conclusion 
 which Malebranche deduced from premises very nearly the 
 same with Mr. Hume's. 
 
 NOTE [E], page] 19. 
 
 JVj K. LOCKE in his Essay on Human Understanding, 
 has taken notice of the quickness with which the 
 operations of the mind are carried on, and has referred to 
 the acquired perceptions of sight, as a proof of it. The 
 same Author has been struck with the connexion between 
 this class of facts and our habitual actions ; but he does not 
 state the question, whether such actions are voluntary or 
 not. I think it probable, from his mode of expression, 
 that his opinion on the subject was the same with mine. 
 The' following quotation contains all the remarks I recollect 
 in his writings, that hav any connexion with the doctrines 
 of the present chapter : 
 
 " We are farther to consider, concerning perception, that 
 " the ideas we receive by sensation are often, in grown peo- 
 '* pie, altered by the judgment, without our taking notice 
 " of it. When we set before our eyes a round globe, of 
 " any uniform colour, e. g. gold, alabaster, or jet, it is 
 " certain that the idea thereby imprinted on our mind is of 
 " a flat circle, variously shadowed, with several degrees of 
 " light and brightness coming to our eyes. But we, having
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 54 
 
 ** by use been accustomed to perceive what kind of appear- 
 " ance convex bodies are wont to make in us, and what al- 
 * { terations are made in the reflections of light by the dif- 
 ft forence of the sensible figure of bodies ^ the judgment 
 " presently, by a habitual custom, alters the appearances 
 " into their causes; so that, from that which truly is va- 
 " riety of shadow or colour, collecting the figure, it makes 
 " it pass for a mark of figure, and frames to itself the per- 
 " ception of a convex figure, and an uniform colour; when 
 " the idea we receive from thence is only a plane variously 
 " coloured ; as is evident in painting." Chap. ix. 8. 
 
 " But this is not, I think, usually in any of our ideas 
 ** but those received by sight ; because sight, the most com- 
 " prehensive of all our senses, conveying to our minds the 
 " ideas of light and colours, which are peculiar only to that 
 " sense, and also the far different ideas of space, figure, 
 " and motion, the several varieties whei'eof change the ap- 
 " pearances of its proper object, viz. light and colours, we 
 " bring ourselves by use to judge of the one by the other. 
 " This, in many cases, by a settled habit in things whereof 
 " we have frequent experience, is performed so constantly, 
 " and so quick, that we take that for the perception of our 
 " sensation, which is an idea formed by our judgment; so 
 " that one, viz. that of sensation, serves only to excite the 
 " other, and is scarce taken any notice of itself; as a man 
 " who reads or hears with attention and understanding, 
 " takes little notice of the characters or sounds, but of the 
 ** ideas that are excited in him by them. 
 
 " Nor need we wonder that this is done with sa little 
 " notice, if we consider how very quick the actions of the 
 " mind are performed ; for as itself is thought to take up 
 " no space, to have no extension, so its actions seem to re- 
 " quire no time, but many of them seem to be crowded 
 " into an instant. I speak this in comparison to the ac- 
 " tions of the body. Any one may easily observe this in 
 " his own thoughts, who will take the pains to reflect on
 
 550 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " them. How, as it were in an instant, do our minds, 
 " with one glance, see all parts of a demonstration, which 
 " may very well be called a long one, if we consider the 
 " time it will require to put it into words, and step by step 
 " shew it to another ? Secondly, we shall not be much sur- 
 " prised that this is done in us with so little notice, if we 
 " consider how the facility which we get of doing things by 
 " a custom of doing, makes them often pass in us without 
 " our notice. Habits, especially such as are begun very 
 " early, come at last to produce actions in us, which often 
 " escape our observation. How frequently do we in a day 
 " cover our eyes with our eye-lids, without perceiving that 
 " we are at all in the dark ? Men that by custom have got 
 " the use of al3ye-word, do almost in every sentence pro- 
 " nounce sounds, which, though taken notice of by others, 
 " they themselves neither hear nor observe ; and, therefore, 
 " it is not so strange that our mind should often change 
 " the idea of its sensation into that of its judgment, and 
 " make one serve only to excite the other, without our 
 " taking notice of it." Ibid. 9, 10. 
 
 The habit mentioned by Locke, in this paragraph, of oc- 
 casionally winking with the eye-lids, (which is not accom- 
 panied with any memory of our being, in every such instance, 
 in a momentary state of total darkness,) deserves to be 
 added to the cases already mentioned, to shew the depend- 
 ence of memory upon attention. 
 
 Note [F], page 166. 
 
 " JL LATONI quid idea sit, peculiar! tractatione pro- 
 
 " lixe excussimus *, quae consuli ab iis debet, qui accurate 
 " totam ret seriem pernoscere cupiunt. Nos pro prae- 
 " sentis instituti modo paucis notamus, Platoni ideam 
 " non esse illam, quae ex con tern platione objectorum sin- 
 " gularium exsurgit notionem universalem reique alicujus 
 
 * Brucker here alludes to his work, intitled, Historia Pfiilosophica de 
 Ideis; which I have never had an opportunity of seeing.
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 551 
 
 " generalem conceptum, quern recentiores ideam vocant, 
 " ille EiSrj vocavit et ab idea distinxit. Sed ideae sunt illi 
 " essentialia rerum omnium singularium exemplaria, 
 " avTO<ra gaudentia, ad quorum naturam indolemque res 
 " singulares formatae sunt, et quse illis veram certamque 
 " atque stabilem essentiam largiuntur. Has ideas ex divina 
 " mente oriri, inque ea radicari, sua autem propria substan- 
 " tia gaudere, et esse omrcag xai OVTOO$ ovra statuit, et circa 
 " earum cognitionem versari intellectum bumanum, in his 
 " rerum essentiis separatim et extra materiam existentibus 
 " cognoscendis cardinem verti totius philosophise asseruit. 
 " Ridiculum id visum Aristoteli, dari extra materiam ejus- 
 " modi essentias universales, quibus res omnes singulares 
 " essentialiter modificarentur, rato, esse haec TspeTHrpoiTa. et 
 " nugas otiosi ingenii, Platonemque sine causa rationcque 
 " sufficient! haec somnia ex scholis Pythagoreorum, quae 
 f< istis entibus personabant, recepisse, suoque intulisse sys- 
 " temati. Cum autem negare non auderet, esse in rebus 
 " formas essentiales, has ideas, sive formas, qua voce Pla- 
 " tonicum nomen exprimere maluit, materiae ab aeterno 
 " esse impressas, et in eo latere affirmavit, et ita demum 
 " ex rationibus istis formisque seminalibus, materiam esse 
 " formatam statuit." BRUCK. Hist. Phil. iii. p. 905. 
 
 NOTE [G], page 1 68. 
 
 1 HE Stoics, who borrowed many of their doctrines from 
 the other schools of philosophy, seem, in pajticular, 
 to have derived their notions on this subject from some of 
 their predecessors. Stilpo, who was of the Megaric sect, 
 is said to have held opinions approaching nearly to those of 
 the Nominalists. 
 
 " Stilpo universalia plane sustulit. Dicebat enim : qui 
 " hominem dicat eum neminem dicere, quod non hunc vel 
 '* ilium ea vox significet, nee huic magis, quam alteri con- 
 " veniat. Scilicet supponebat Stilpo, non dari hominem 
 " in abstracto, adeoque has species et genera rerum non na- 
 
 N N 4
 
 552 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " tura existere ; cum neque in hoc neque in alio homine, 
 " ille homo universalis queat ostendi. Inductione itaque 
 " i'acta, cum neque hunc, neque ilium, neque alium homi- 
 " nem esse colligeret, inferebat nullum esse hominem, 
 " sicque ludendo ambigua hominis in genere sive abstracto, 
 " uti logici dicunt, et in individuo sive singular! considerati 
 " notione, incautos exagitabat. Altiora tamen hie latere 
 " putat P. Bayle, et non in solo verborum lusu substitisse 
 " Stilponem, sed universalia sive praedicabilia negavisse. 
 " Neque prorsus est dissimile, fuisse Stilponem inter eos, 
 " qui universalia praeter nuda nomina nihil esse dicerent, 
 " quod et cynicos fecisse et alios, alibi docuimus : quorum 
 " partes postea susceperunt Abelardi sequaces et tota no- 
 " minalium secta." BRUCKER, vol. i. p. 619. 
 
 NOTE [H], page 170. 
 
 OECULO XI. Roscelinus vel Rucelinus sacerdos et 
 " philosophus Compendiensis, ab Aristotele secessum 
 " fecit, et in Stoicorum castra ita transiit, ut statuerit, uni- 
 " versalia, nee ante rem, nee in re existere, nee ullam ha- 
 " bere realem existentiam, sed esse nuda nomina et voces, 
 " quibus rerum singularium genera denotentur." 
 
 BRUCKER, Hist. Phil. vol. iii. p. 906. 
 
 " Dum Porpbyrius prudenter quaestionem; an universalia 
 " revera existant, omittendam esse censet, de qua inter Pla- 
 " tonicos et Stoicos mire decertari noverat, occasionem sup- 
 " peditavit otioso Roscelini ingenio, earn novo acumine in- 
 " genii aggrediendi defiuiendique." Ibid. vol. iii. p. 674. 
 
 Roscelinus was a native of Brittany, and canon of Com- 
 piegne. He is much celebrated, even by his adversaries, for 
 the acutenessand subtlety of his genius, which he displayed 
 both in scholastical and theological controversy. He was 
 condemned lor Tritheism by a council assembled at Soissons 
 in the year 1092. (See MOSHEIM'S Ecclesiastical History.} 
 It does not appear that he ever taught in Paris, or that he 
 gave public lectures ; but he had the honour to direct the
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 553 
 
 studies, and to form the philosophical opinions of Abelard, 
 by whose means the innovations he had introduced into 
 Dialectics obtained a very wide and rapid circulation. : 
 (BRUCKER, vol. iii. p. 728.) He is mentioned as an English- 
 man by Mallet, in his life of Bacon, and by other writers; 
 a mistake into which they have fallen, by confounding 
 Britain with Bretagne. Very little is known of the parti- 
 culars of his life. " Primum nominalium aiunt fuisse," says 
 Leibnitz; " nescio quern Rucelinum Britonem." See his 
 Dissertation de Stylo Philosophico Marii Nizolii. 
 
 The opinion of Abelard concerning Universals, is said 
 to have differed, in some respects, from that of his master. 
 " Alius consistit in vocibus," says John of Salisbury, who 
 was a scholar of Abelard, " licet base opinio cum Roscelino 
 " suo fere omnino jam evanuerit : alius sermones intuetur, 
 " et ad illos detorquet, quicquid alicubi de universalibus 
 " meminit scriptum. In hac autem opinione deprehensus 
 " est Peripateticus Abelardus noster." 
 
 Metalog. lib. ii. c. 1 7. 
 
 Of this difference between the doctrines of Roscelinus 
 and Abelard, I find myself perfectly unable to give any 
 account ; and I am glad to find that Morhoff acknowledges 
 his ignorance upon the same subject. " Alii fuerunt, qui 
 " universalia quaesiverunt, non tarn in vocibus quam in 
 " sermonibus integris; quod Joh. Sarisberiensis adscribit 
 " Petro Abelardo ; quo quid intelligat ille, mihi non satis? 
 " liquet." Polyhist. tom.ii. lib.i. cap. 13. 2. 
 
 Absurd as these controversies may now appear, such was 
 the prevailing taste of the twelfth century, that they seduced 
 the young and aspiring mind of Abelard from all the other 
 pursuits which Europe then presented to his ambition. 
 " Ut militaris glorias pompam," says he, " cum hasreditate 
 " et praerogativa primogenitorum meorum fratribus derelin- 
 " quens, Martis curiae penitus abdicarem, ut Minervae 
 " gremio educarer." Hist. Calam. Suar. c. 1. 
 
 Among the literary men of this period, none seems to 
 have arisen to such an eminent superiority above his age,
 
 554 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 in the liberality of his philosophical views, as John of Salis- 
 bury, the celebrated friend of archbishop Becket. In his 
 youth he had studied at Paris under Abelard and other emi- 
 nent masters, and had applied himself, with distinguished 
 ardour and success, to the subtile speculations which then 
 occupied the schools. After a long absence, when his mind 
 was enlarged by more liberal and useful pursuits, and by an 
 extensive intercourse with the world, he had the curiosity to 
 revisit the scene of his early studies, and to compare his own 
 acquisitions with those of his old companions. The ac- 
 count which he gives of this visit is strikingly character- 
 istical, both of the writer and of his age : " Inventi sunt, 
 " qui fuerant, et ubi: neque enim ad palmam visi sunt 
 " processisse ad quaestiones pristinas dirimendas, neque pro- 
 
 " positiunculam unam adjecerant. . Expertus 
 
 " itaque sum quod liquido colligi potest, quia sicut dialec- 
 " tica alias expedit disciplinas, sic, si sola fuerit, jacet ex- 
 " sanguiset sterilis, &c." Metalog. lib. ii. cap. 10. 
 
 The same Author, speaking of the controversy between 
 the Nominalists and the Realists, thus expresses himself: 
 " Quaestionem de generibus et speciebus in qua laborans 
 " mundus jam senuit, in qua plus temporis consumptum 
 " est quam in acquirendo et regendo orbis imperio consum- 
 " serit Caesarea domus : plus effusum pecuniae, quam in 
 " omnibus divitiis suis possederit Croesus. Haec enim tam- 
 " diu multos tenuit, ut cum hoc unum tota vita quaererent, 
 " tandem nee istud, nee aliud invenirent." 
 
 De Nugis Cvrialiian^ lib. vii. cap. 12. 
 
 NOTE [I], page 187. 
 
 < OECTA nominalium, omnium inter scholasticas 
 
 " profundissima, et hodiernae reformatae philosophandi 
 " rationi congruentissima ; quae quum olim maxime flo- 
 " reret, nunc apud scholasticos quidem, extincta est. 
 " Unde conjicias decrementa potius quam augmenta acu-
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 555 
 
 " minis. Quum autem ipse Nizolius noster se Nominalem 
 " exserte profiteri non dubitet prope finem capitis sexti, libri 
 " primi; et vero in realitate formalitatum et universalium 
 " evertenda nervus disputationis ejus omnis potissimum 
 " contineatur, pauca quaedam de Nominalibus subjicere 
 " operae pretium duxi. Nominales sunt, qui omnia putant 
 " esse nuda nomina praeter substantias singulares, abstrac- 
 " torum igitur et universalium realitatem prorsus tolhmt. 
 " Primum autem nominalium aiunt fuisse nescio quern Ru- 
 " celinum Britonem, cujus occasione cruenta certamina in 
 " academia Parisiensi fuerunt excitata. 
 
 " Diu autem jacuit in tenebris secta nominalium, donee 
 " maximi vir ingenii, et eruditionis pro illo oevo summae, 
 " Wilhelmus Occam Anglus, Scoti discipulus, sed mox 
 " oppugnator maximus, de improvise earn resuscitavit ; con- 
 " sensere Gregorius Ariminensis, Gabr. Biel, et plerique 
 " ordinis Augustinianorum, unde et in Martini Lutheri 
 " scriptis prioribus amor nominalium satis elucet, donee 
 " procedente tempore erga omnes monachos cequaliter 
 " affectus esse ccepit. Generalis autem regula est, qua 
 " nominales passim utuntur ; entia non esse multiplicanda 
 " praeter necessitatem. Haec regula ab aliis passim oppug- 
 " natur, quasi injuria in divinam ubertatem, liberalem 
 " potius quam parcam, et varietate ac copia rerum gauden- 
 " tern. Sed, qui sic objiciunt, non satis mihi nominalium 
 " mentem cepisse videntur, qua?, etsi obscurius proposita, 
 " hue redit : hypothesin eo esse meliorem, quo simpliciorem, 
 " et in causis eorum quae apparent reddendis eum optime 
 " se gerere, qui quam paucissima gratis supponat. Nam 
 " qui aliter egit, eo ipso naturam, aut potius autorem ejus 
 " Deum ineptae superfluitatis accusat. Si quis astronomus 
 " rationem phenomenorum co3lestium reddere potest paucis 
 " suppositis, meris nimirum motibus simplicibus circulari- 
 " bus, ejus certe hypothesis ejus hypothesi praeferenda erit, 
 " qui multis orbibus varie implexis ad explicanda coelestia 
 " indiget. Ex hac jam regula nominales deduxerunt, omnia
 
 55G NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 **. in rerum natura explicari posse, etsi universalibus et for- 
 " malitatibus realibus prorsus careatur; qua sententia nihil 
 " verius, nihil nostri temporis philosopho dignius, usque 
 " adeo, ut cm lam ipsum Occam urn non fuisse nomina- 
 " lioreni, quam mine est Thomas Hobbes, qui, ut verum 
 " fatear, mihi, plusquam nominulis videtur. Non con- 
 " tentus enim cum nominalibus universalia ad nomina re- 
 " ducere,ipsam rerum veritatem ait in nominibus consistere, 
 " ac, quod majus est, pendere ab arbitrio humano, quia 
 " veritas pendeat a definitionibus terininorum, definitiones 
 " autem terminorum ab arbitrio humano. Haec est sen- 
 " tentia viri inter profundissimos seculi censendi, qua, ut 
 " dixi, nihil potest esse nominalius." 
 
 This passage from Leibnitz has given rise to a criticism of 
 Morhoffj which appears to me to be extremely ill-founded. <- 
 " Accenset nominalibus" (says he,) " Leibnitzius Thomam 
 " Hobbensium, quern ille ipso Occamo nominaliorem, et 
 " plusquam nominalem vocat, qui non contentus cum no- 
 " minalibus universalia ad nomina reducere, ipsam rerum 
 " veritatem ait in nominibus consistere, ac quod majus est, 
 " pendere ab arbitrio humano. Quoe bella ejus sententia, 
 " quamquam laudat earn Leibnitzius, monstri aliquid alit, 
 '* ac plane nequam est. Immania enim ex uno summo 
 " paradoxo fluunt absurda." 
 
 MORHOF. Polyhistor. vol. ii. page 8K 
 
 I shall not at present enter into a particular examination 
 of the doctrine here ascribed to Hobbes, which I shall have 
 occasion to consider afterwards under the article of Reason- 
 ing. I cannot, however, help remarking, that nothing but 
 extreme inattention to the writings of Leibnitz could have 
 led Morhoff to suppose that he had given his sanction to 
 such an opinion. In the very passage which has now been 
 quoted, the expression (" qui ut verum fatear, mihi plus 
 " quam nominalis videtur") plainly implies a censure of 
 Hobbes's philosophy ; and in another dissertation, entitled, 
 Meditationes de Cognitiane, Veritate^ et Ideis, he is at pains. 
 
 7
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 557 
 
 directly to refute this part of his system : *' Atque ita 
 " habemus quoque discrimen inter definitiones nominales 
 '< quae notas tantum rei ab aliis discernendae continent, et 
 " reales, ex quibus constat rem esse possibilem, et hac ra- 
 " tione satisfit Hobbio qui veritates volebat esse arbitrarras, 
 <( quia ex definitionibus nominalibus penderent, non con- 
 4( siderans reah'tatem definitions in arbitrio non esse, nee 
 " quaslibet notiones inter se posse conjungi. Nee defini- 
 " tiones nominales sufficiunt ad perfectam scientiam, nisi 
 " quando aliunde constat rem definitam esse possibilem, 
 &c. &c." 
 
 LEIBNITZII Opera, Edit. Dtttens, torn. ii. p. 16, 17. 
 
 NOTE [K], page 193. 
 
 < 1 o form a clear notion of truth, it is very necessary 
 " to consider truth of thought, and truth of words, 
 " distinctly one from another : but yet it is very difficult to 
 " freat of them asunder: because it is unavoidable, in 
 " treating of mental propositions, to make use of words : 
 <c and then the instances given of mental propositions cease 
 immediately to be barely mental, and become verbal. 
 " For a mental proposition being nothing but a bare con- 
 *' sideration of the ideas, as they are in our minds stripped 
 " of names, they lose the nature of purely mental propo- 
 " sitions, as soon as they are put into words. 
 
 " And that which makes it yet harder to treat of mental 
 *' and verbal propositions separately, is that most men, if 
 " not all, in their thinking and reasonings within them- 
 selves, make use of words, instead of ideas, at least when 
 " the subject of their meditation contains in it complex 
 " ideas." LOCK.E, book iv. c. 5. 3, 4. 
 
 " But to return to the consideration of truth. 
 
 " We must, I say, observe two sorts of propositions, that 
 " we are capable of making.
 
 558 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " First, mental, wherein the ideas in our understandings 
 " are without the use of words put together or separated 
 " by the mind, perceiving or judging of their agreement 
 " or disagreement. 
 
 " Secondly, verbal propositions, which are words, the 
 K signs of our ideas put together or separated in affirmative 
 " or negative sentences, &c." Ibid. 5. 
 
 " Though the examining and judging of ideas by them- 
 " selves, their names being quite laid aside, be the best and 
 " surest way to clear and distinct knowledge; yet through 
 " the prevailing custom of using sounds for ideas, I think 
 " it is very seldom practised. Every one may observe, 
 " how common it is for names to be made use of, instead 
 " of the ideas themselves, even when men think and reason 
 " within their own breasts : especially if the ideas be very 
 " complex, and made up of a great collection of simple 
 " ones. This makes the consideration of words and pro- 
 " positions so necessary a part of the treatise of know- 
 " ledge, that it is very hard to speak intelligibly of the 
 " one, without explaining the other. 
 
 " All the knowledge we have, being only of particular or 
 " of general truths, it is evident that whatever may be done 
 " in the former of these, the latter can never be well made 
 " known, and is very seldom apprehended, but as con- 
 " ceived and expressed in words." Book iv. c. 6. 1, 2. 
 
 From these passages it appears, that Locke conceived the 
 use which we make of words in carrying on our reasonings 
 both with respect to particular and to general truths, to be 
 chiefly the effect of custom ; and that the employment of 
 language, however convenient, is not essential to our intel- 
 lectual operations. His opinion therefore did not coincide 
 with that which I have ascribed to the Nominalists. 
 
 On the other hand, the following passage shews clearly, 
 how widely his opinion differed from that of the Realists; 
 and indeed it would have led us to believe that it was the
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 559 
 
 same with Berkeley's, had not the foregoing quotations 
 contained an explicit declaration of the contrary. 
 
 " To return to general words, it is plain, by what has 
 " been said, that general and universal belong not to the 
 " real existence of things, but are the inventions and crea- 
 " tures of the understanding, made by.it for its own use, 
 " and concern only signs, whether words or ideas. Words 
 " are general, as has been said, when used for signs of 
 " general ideas, and so are applicable indifferently to many 
 " particular things; and ideas are general, when they are 
 " set up as the representatives of many particular things : 
 " but universality belongs not to things themselves, which 
 " are all of them particular in their existence : even those 
 " words and ideas which in their signification are general. 
 " When, therefore, we quit particulars, the generals that 
 " rest are only creatures of our own making ; their general 
 " nature being nothing but the capacity they are put into 
 " by the understanding, of signifying or representing 
 " many particulars. For .the signification they have is 
 " nothing but a relation that by the mind of man is added 
 " to theru." Bookiii. c. 3. 11. 
 
 On the whole, it is evident, that Mr. Locke was neither 
 completely satisfied with the doctrine of the Nominalists, 
 nor with that of the Realists ; and therefore I think it is 
 with good reason that Dr. Reid has classed him with the 
 Conceptual ists. Indeed, Mr. Locke has put this matter 
 beyond all doubt himself; for, in explaining the manner in 
 which we conceive universals, he has stated his opinion in 
 the strongest and most paradoxical and most contradictory 
 terms. The ridicule bestowed on this part of his philosophy 
 by the author of Martinus Scriblerus, although censured for 
 unfairness by Dr. Warburton, is almost justified by some 
 of his expressions.
 
 560 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE- [L], page 202. 
 
 IN a letter from Leibnitz to a Scotch gentleman (Mr. 
 Burnet of Kemney), dated in the year 1697, there is the 
 following passage : 
 
 " J'ay consider^ avec attention le grand ouvrage du cha- 
 " ractere reel, et langage philosophique de Monsieur Wil- 
 " kins. Je trouve qu'il y a mis une infinite de belles choses, 
 " et nous n'avons jamais eu une table des predicamens plus 
 " accomplie. Mais 1'application pour les characteres, et 
 " pour la langue, n'est point conforme a ce qu'on pouvoit 
 " et devoit faire. J'avois considere cette matiere avant le 
 " livre de Monsieur Wilkins, quand j'etois un jeune homme 
 " de dix neuf ans, dans mon petit livre de arte combinatoria, 
 " et mon opinion est que ces characteres veritablement 
 " reels et philosophiques doivent repondre a Panalyse des 
 " pensees. II est vray que ces characteres presupposent la 
 " veritable philosophie, et ce n'est que presentement que 
 " j'oserois entrependre de les fabriquer. Les objections de 
 " M. Dalgarus, et de M. Wilkins, contre la methode ve- 
 " ritablement philosophique ne sent que pour excuser 1'im- 
 " perfection de leurs essais, et marquent seulement les 
 " difficultes qui les en ont rebutes." 
 
 The letter, of which this is a part, was published at the 
 end of A Defence of Dr. CLARKE, (which I believe is com- 
 monly ascribed to Dr. Gregory Sharpe,) and which was 
 printed at London in 1 744. The person mentioned by 
 Leibnitz under the name of M. Dalgarus, was evidently 
 George Dalgarno, a native of Aberdeen, and author of a 
 small and very rare book entitled, " Ars Signorum, vtdgo 
 ** character universalis et lingua, pkilosophica, qua poterunt, 
 " homines diversissimorum idiomatum, spatio duarum septi- 
 " manarum, omnia animi sui sensa, (in rebus familiaribus^) 
 ({ non minus intelligibiliter, sive scribendo, sive loquendo, 
 61 mutuo communicare, quam linguis propriis vernacidis. 
 " Prceterea^ hinc etiam poterunt juvenes, philosophicc prin- 
 *' crpia, et veram logica praxin> citius et facilius multo im~ 
 " bibere, quam ex vulgaribus philosophorum scriptis"
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 561 
 
 It is very remarkable that this work of Dalgamo is never 
 {at least as far as I recollect) mentioned by Wilkin&j al- 
 though it appears from a letter of Charles I. prefixed to 
 Dalgarno's book, that Wilkins was one of the persons who 
 had recommended him to thrroyal favour. 
 
 The treatise de Arte Combinatoria is published in the 
 second volume of Dutens' edition of Leibnitz's works, but 
 it does not appear to me to throw much light on his views 
 with respect to a philosophical language. 
 
 I must request the indulgence of the reader for adding to 
 the length of this note, by quoting a passage from another 
 performance of Leibnitz; in which he has fallen into a 
 train of thought remarkably similar to that of Mr. Hume 
 aid Dr. Campbell, in the passages already quoted from 
 them/ in this section. The performance is entitled, Medi- 
 t at tones de Cognitione, Veritate, ct Ideis, and is printed in 
 the second volume of Dutens' edition. 
 
 " Plerumque autem, prassertim in analysi longiore, non 
 " totam simul naturam rei intuemur, sed rerum loco signis 
 " utimur, quorum explicationem in praesenti aliqua cogi- 
 " tatione compendii causa solemus praetermittere, scientes, 
 " aut credentes nos earn habere in potestate : ita cum chi- 
 " liogonum, seu polygonum mille aequalium later um cogito, 
 " non semper naturam lateris, et aequalitatis, et millenarii 
 " (seu cubi a denario) considero, sed vocabulis istis (quo- 
 " ruin sensus obscure saltern, atque imperfecte menti obver- 
 " satur) in animo utor loco idearum, quas de iis habeo, 
 " quoniam memini me significationem istorura vocabu- 
 " lorum habere, explicationem autem nunc judico neces- 
 " sariam non esse ; qualem cogitationem cascam, vel etiani 
 " symbolicam appellare soleo, qua et in algebra, et in 
 " arithmetica utimur, imo fere ubique. Et certe cum 
 " notio valde composita est, non possumus otnnes ingredi- 
 *' entes earn notiones simul cogitare: ubi tamen hoc licet, 
 *' vel saltern in quantum licet, cognitionem voco intui- 
 ** tivam. Notionis distinctae primitivas non alia datur 
 
 o o
 
 562 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " cognitio, quam intuitiva, ut compositarum plerumque 
 " cogitatio non nisi symbolica est. 
 
 " Ex his jam patet, nos eorum quoque, quae distincte 
 " cognoscimus, ideas non percipere, nisi quatenus cogi- 
 " tatione intuitiva utimur. Et sane contingit, ut nos 
 " saspe falso credamus habere in animo ideas rerum, cum 
 " falso supponimus aliquos terminos, quibus utimur, jam 
 " a nobis fuisse explicates : nee verum aut certe ambigui- 
 " tati obnoxium est, quod aiunt aliqui, non posse nos de 
 " re aliqua dicere, intelligendo quod dicinms, quin ejus 
 " habeamus ideam. Saepe enim vocabula ista singula 
 " utcunque intelligimus, aut nos antea intellexisse memi- 
 " nimus, qui tamen hac cogitatione caeca content! sumus, 
 " et resolutionem notionum non satis prosequimur, fit ut 
 " lateat nos contradictio, quam forte notio composita 
 " involvit." 
 
 NOTE [M], page 223. 
 
 As the passage quoted in the text is taken from a work 
 which is but little known in this country, I shall subjoin 
 the original. 
 
 " Qu'il me soit permis de presenter a ceux qui refusent 
 " de croire a ces perfectionriemens successifs de 1'espece 
 " humaine un exemple pris dans les sciences ou la marche 
 (i de la verite est la plus sure, ou elle peut etre mesuree 
 fi avec plus de precision. Ces verites elementaires de 
 " geometric et d'astronomie qui avoient ete dans 1'Inde 
 " et dans 1'Egypte une doctrine occulte, sur laquelle des 
 " pretres ambitieux avoient fonde leur empire, etoient 
 " dans la Grece, a*u temps d'Archimede ou d'Hipparque, 
 " des connoissances viilgares enseignees dans les ecoles 
 " communes. Dans le siecle dernier, il suffisoit de quelques 
 " ann^es d'etude pour savoir tout ce qu'Archimede et Hip- 
 " parque avoient pu connoitre ; et aujourd'hui deux annees 
 " de 1'enseignement d'un professeur vont au-dela de ce que 
 " savoient Leibnitz ou Newton. Qu'on medite cet exemple.
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 563 
 
 " qu'on saisisse cette chaine qui s'etend d'un pretre cle 
 " Memphis a Euler, et remplit la distance immense qui les 
 " separe; qu'on observe a chaque epoque le genie devan- 
 " cant le siecle present, et la mediocrite atteignant a ce 
 " qu'il avoit decouvert dans celui qui precedoit, on ap^ 
 *' prendra que la nature nous a donne les moyens d'epar- 
 " gner le temps et de menager 1'attention, et qu'il n'existe 
 " aucune raison de croire que ces moyens puissent avoir un 
 " terme. On verra qu'au moment ou une multitude de 
 " solutions particulieres, de faits isoles commencent a 
 " epuiser 1'attention, a fatiguer la memoire, ces theories 
 *' dispersees viennent se perdre dans une methodc gene- 
 " rale, tous les faits se reunir dans un fait unique, et que 
 " ces generalisations, ces reunions repetees n'ont, comme 
 " les multiplications successives "d'un nombre par lui- 
 *' meme, d'autre limite qu'un infini auquel il est impossible 
 " d'atteindre." 
 
 Sitr V Instruction publique, par M. CONDORCET. 
 
 Continuation of Note [M]. (Second Edition.} 
 
 JLlow much is it to be regretted, that a doctrine so 
 pleasing, and, at the same time, so philosophical, should 
 have been disgraced by what has been since written by 
 Condorcet and others, concerning the Perfectibility of 
 Man, and its probable effect in banishing from the earth, 
 Vice, Disease, and Mortality ! Surely they who can recon- 
 cile their minds to such a Creed, might be expected to 
 treat with some indulgence the credulity of the multitude. 
 Nor is it candid to complain of the slow progress of Truth, 
 when it is blended with similar extravagances in Philoso- 
 phical Systems. 
 
 While, however, we reject these absurdities, so com- 
 pletely contradicted by the whole analogy of human affairs, 
 we ought to guard with no less caution against another 
 Creed, much more prevalent in the present times; a 
 Creed which taking for granted that all things are governed 
 
 o o 2
 
 564 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 by chance or by a blind destiny, overlooks the beneficent 
 arrangement made by Providence for the advancement and 
 for the diffusion of useful knowledge; and, in defiance 
 both of the moral suggestions and of the universal experi- 
 ence of mankind, treats with ridicule the supposed ten- 
 dency of truth and justice to prevail finally over falsehood 
 and iniquity. If the doctrine which encourages these fa- 
 vourable prospects of the future fortunes of our race, leads, 
 when carried to an extreme, to paradox and inconsistency ; 
 the system which represents this doctrine, even when stated 
 with due limitations, as altogether groundless and visionary, 
 leads, by a short and inevitable process, to the conclusions 
 cither of the Atheist or of the Manichaean. In the midst, 
 indeed, of such scenes of violence and anarchy as Europe 
 has lately witnessed, it is not always easy for the wisest and 
 best of men to remain faithful to their principles and their 
 hopes : But what must be the opinions and the views of 
 those, who, during these storms and convulsions of the 
 Moral World, find at once, in the apparent retrogradation 
 of Human Reason, the gratification of their Political Am- 
 bition, and the secret triumph of their Sceptical theories ! 
 
 Fond, impious Man ! Think'st thou yon Sanguine Cloud, 
 Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the Orb of Day ? 
 To-morrow, he repairs the golden flood, 
 And warms the Nations with redoubled ray. 
 
 NOTE [N], page 251. 
 
 IT may be proper to remark, that under the title of Econo- 
 mists, I comprehend not merely the disciples of Quesnay, 
 but all those writers in France, who, about the same time 
 with him, began to speculate about the natural order of 
 ]X)litical societies ; or, in other words, about that order 
 which a political society would of itself gradually assume, 
 on the supposition that law had no other object than to 
 protect completely the natural rights of individuals, and 
 left every man at liberty to pursue his own interest in 
 his own way, as long as he abstained from violating the
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 565 
 
 rights of others. The connection between this natural 
 order and the improvement of mankind, has been more 
 insisted on by the biographers of Turgot than by any other 
 authors ; and the imperfect hints which they have given of 
 the views of that truly great man upon this important sub- 
 ject, leave us much room to regret that he had not leisure 
 to execute a work, which he appears to have long medi- 
 tated, on the principles of moral and political philosophy. 
 Vie de M. TURGOT. Partie ii. p. 53. 
 
 It is merely for want of a more convenient expression 
 that I have distinguished these different writers by the title 
 of Economists. It is in this extensive sense that the word is 
 commonly understood in this country ; but I am sensible 
 that it is somewhat ambiguous, and that, without the ex- 
 planation which I have given, some of my observations 
 might have been supposed to imply a higher admiration 
 than I really entertain of the writings of M. Quesnay, and 
 of the affected phraseology employed by his sect. 
 
 The connection between M. Turgot and M. Quesnay, 
 and the coincidence of their opinions about the most essen- 
 tial principles of legislation, will I hope justify me in rank- 
 ing the former with the Economists; although his views 
 seem to have been much more enlarged than those of his 
 contemporaries; and although he expressly disclaimed an 
 implicit acquiescence in the opinions of any particular sect. 
 
 " M. Turgot etudia la doctrine de M. Gournay et de 
 " M. Quesnay, en protita, se la rendit propre; et la com- 
 " binant avec la connoissance qu'il avoit du droit, et avec 
 ** les grandes vues de legislation civile et criminelle qui 
 avoient occupe sa tete et interesse son cceur, parvint a 
 " en former sur le gouvernement des nations un corps de 
 " principes a lui, embrassant les deux autres, et plus com- 
 " plet encore." 
 
 Memoires sur la Vie et les Outrages de M. TURGOT, 
 par M. DUPONT, p. 40, 41. 
 o o 3
 
 56 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " II a passe pour avoir et attache a plusieurs sectes, 
 " ou a plusieurs societes qu'on appelait ainsi; et les amis 
 " qu'il avait dans ces societes diverses lui reprochaient sans 
 " cesse de n'etre pas de leur avis; et sans cesse il leur re- 
 " prochait de son cote de vouloir faire communaute d'opi- 
 " nions, et de se rend re solidaires les uns pour les autres. 
 " II croyait cette marche propre a retarder les progres 
 " inemes de leurs 1 decouvertes." Ibid. p. 41, 42. 
 
 NOTE [O], page 347. 
 
 1 HE foregoing observations on the state of the mind in 
 sleep, and on the phenomena of dreaming, were written 
 as long ago as the year 1772 ; and were read (nearly in the 
 form in which they are now published) in the year 1773* 
 in a private literary society in this university. A consider- 
 able number of years afterwards, at the time when I was 
 occupied with very different pursuits, I happened, in turn- 
 ing over an old volume of the Scots Magazine, (the volume 
 for the year 1749,) to meet with a short essay on the same 
 subject, which surprized me by its coincidence with some 
 ideas which had formerly occurred to me. I have reason 
 to believe that this essay is very little known, as I have 
 never seen it referred to by any of the numerous writers 
 who have since treated of the human mind ; nor have even 
 heard it once mentioned in conversation. I had some time 
 ago the satisfaction to learn accidentally, that the author 
 was Mr. Thomas Melville, a gentleman who died at the 
 early age of 27 ; and whose ingenious observations on light 
 and colours (published in the Essays of the Edinburgh 
 Philosophical Society) are well known over Europe. 
 
 The passages which coincide the most remarkably with 
 the doctrine I have stated, are the following. I quote the 
 first with particular pleasure, on account of the support 
 which it gives to an opinion which I formerly proposed in 
 the essay on Conception, and on which I have the misfor- 
 tune to differ from some of my friends.
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 567 
 
 " When I am walking up the High-street of Edinburgh, 
 " the objects which strike my eyes and ears give me an idea 
 " of their presence ; and this idea is lively, full, and per- 
 " manent, as arising from the continued operation of light 
 " and sound on the organs of sense. 
 
 " Again, when I am absent from Edinburgh, but con- 
 " ceiving or imagining myself to walk up the High-street, 
 " in relating, perhaps, what befel me on such an occasion, 
 " I have likewise in my mind an idea of what is usually 
 " seen and heard in the High-street; and this idea of ima- 
 -" gination is entirely similar to those of sensation, though 
 " not so strong and durable. 
 
 " In this last instance, while the imagination lasts, be it 
 *' ever so short, it is evident that I think myself in the 
 " street of Edinburgh, as truly as when I dream I am 
 ** there, or even as when I see and feel I am there. It 
 " is true, we cannot so well apply the word belief m this 
 " case; because the perception is not clear or steady, being 
 " ever disturbed, and soon dissipated, by the superior 
 " strength of intruding sensation : yet nothing can be more 
 " absurd than to say, that a man may, in the same indi- 
 " vidual instant, believe he is in one place, and imagine he 
 " is in another. No man can demonstrate that the objects 
 " of sense exist without him ; we are conscious of nothing 
 " but our own sensations : however, by the uniformity, regu- 
 " larity, consistency, and steadiness of the impression, we 
 " are led to believe, that they have a real and durable 
 " cause without us; and we observe not any thing which 
 " contradicts this opinion. But the ideas of imagination, 
 " being transient and fleeting, can beget no such opinion 
 " or habitual belief; though there is as much perceived in 
 " this case as in the former, namely, an idea of the object 
 " within the mind. It will be easily understood, that all 
 " this is intended to obviate an objection that might be 
 " brought against the similarity of dreaming and imagina- 
 " tion, from our believing in sleep that all is real. But 
 
 o o 4
 
 568 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " there is one fact, that plainly sets them both on a paral- 
 " lei, that in sleep we often recollect that the scenes which 
 " we behold are a mere dream, in the same manner as a 
 * ( person awake is habitually convinced that the represen- 
 " tations of his imagination are fictitious." 
 
 " In this essay we make no inquiry into the state 
 
 " of the body in sleep. 
 
 " If the operations of the mind in sleep can be 
 
 " fairly deduced from the same causes as its operations 
 " when awake, we are certainly advanced one considerable 
 " step, though the causes of these latter should be still un- 
 " known. The doctrine of gravitation, which is the most 
 " wonderful and extensive discovery in the whole compass 
 " of human science, leaves the descent of heavy bodies as 
 " great a mystery as ever. In philosophy, as in geometry, 
 " the whole art of investigation lies in reducing things that 
 " are difficult, intricate, and remote, to what is simpler 
 " and easier of access, by pursuing and extending tire 
 " analogies of nature." 
 
 On looking over the same essay, I find an observation 
 which I stated as my own in page 150. of this work. " The 
 " mere imagination of a tender scene in a romance, or 
 " drama, will draw tears from the eyes of those who know 
 " very well, when they recollect themselves, that the whole 
 " is fictitious. In the mean time they must conceive it as 
 " real ; and from this supposed reality arises all its influ- 
 " ence on the human mind" 
 
 Continuation of Note [O]. (Second Edition.} 
 
 J^OON after the publication of the First Edition of this 
 Work, a difficulty was started to me with respect to 
 my conclusions concerning the state of the mind in sleep, by 
 my excellent friend Mr. Prevost of Geneva ; a gentleman 
 who has long held a high rank in the republic of letters, 
 and to whose valuable correspondence I have often been 
 indebted for much pleasure and instruction. The same 
 
 7
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 569 
 
 difficulty was proposed to me, nearly about the same time, 
 by another friend (then at a very early period of life), who 
 lias since honourably distinguished himself by his obser- 
 vations on Dr. Darwin's Zoonomia: the first fruits of a 
 philosophical genius, which, I trust, is destined for yet 
 more important undertakings.* 
 
 As Mr. Prevost has, in the present instance, kindly aided 
 me in the task of removing his own objection, I shall take 
 the liberty to borrow his words : 
 
 " Sans Faction de la Volonte point d'effort d'attention. 
 " Sans quelque effort d'attention point de Souvenir. Dans 
 " le Sommeil, 1'action de la Volonte est suspendue. Com- 
 " ment done reste-t-il quelque Souvenir des Songes ? 
 
 " Jc vois bien deux ou trois reponses a cette difficulte. 
 " Quant a present, elles se reduisent a dire, ou que dans 
 " un Sommeil parfait, il n'y a nul Souvenir, et que la ou 
 " il y a Souvenir, le Sommeil n'etoit pas parfait; ou que 
 " 1'action de la Volonte qui suffit pour le Souvenir n'est 
 " pas suspendue dans le Sommeil ; que ce degre d'activite 
 (e reste a Fame ; que ce n'est, pour ainsi dire, qu'une Vo- 
 " lonte elementaire et comme insensible." 
 
 I am abundantly sensible of the force of this objection ; 
 and am far from being satisfied that it is in my power to 
 reconcile completely the apparent inconsistency. The ge- 
 neral conclusions, at the same time, to which I have been 
 led, seem to result so necessarily from the facts 1 have stated, 
 that even although the difficulty in question should remain 
 for the present unsolved, it would not, in my opinion, ma- 
 terially affect the evidence on which they rest. In all our 
 inquiries, it is of consequence to remember, that when we 
 have once arrived at a general principle by a careful in- 
 duction, we are not entitled to reject it, because we may 
 find ourselves unable to explain from it, synthetically, all 
 the phenomena in which it is concerned. The Newtonian 
 
 * Observations on the Zoonomia of Dr. Danvin. By Thomas Brown, 
 Esq. Edinburgh, 1798.
 
 570 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Theory of the Tides is not the less certain, that some ap- 
 parent exceptions occur to it, of which it is not easy (in 
 consequence of our imperfect knowledge of the local cir- 
 cumstances by which, in particular cases, the effect is mo- 
 dified) to give a satisfactory explanation. 
 
 Of the solutions suggested by Mr. Prevost, the first coin- 
 cides most nearly with my own opinion ; and it approaches 
 to what I have hinted (in page 147. of this work) concern- 
 ing the seeming exceptions to my doctrine, which may 
 occur in those cases where sleep is partial. A strong con- 
 firmation of it, undoubtedly, may be derived from the ex- 
 perience of those persons (several of whom I have happened 
 to meet with) who never recollect to have dreamed, except- 
 ing when the soundness of their sleep was disturbed by some 
 derangement in their general health, or by some accident 
 which excited a bodily sensation. 
 
 Another solution of the difficulty might perhaps be de- 
 rived from the facts (stated in pp. 104, 105. of this volume) 
 which prove, " that a perception or an idea, which passes 
 " through the mind, without leaving any trace in the me- 
 " mory, may yet serve to introduce other ideas connected 
 " with it by the Laws of Association." 
 
 From this principle it follows, that if any one of the more 
 remarkable circumstances in a dream should recur to us after 
 we awake, it might (without our exerting during sleep that 
 attention which is essential to memory) revive the same con- 
 catenation of particnlars with which it was formerly accom- 
 panied. And what is a dream, but such a concatenation of 
 seeming events presenting itself to- the imagination during 
 our waking hours ; the origin of which we learn by expe- 
 rience to refer to that interval which is employed in sleep > 
 finding it impossible to connect it with any specific time 
 or place in our past history ? One thing is certain, that we 
 cannot, by any direct acts of recollection, recover the train 
 of our sleeping thoughts, as we can, in an evening, review 
 the meditations of the preceding day.
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 571 
 
 Another cause, it must be owned, presents an obstacle to 
 such efforts of recollection ; and is, perhaps, adequate of 
 itself to explain the fact. During the day, we have many 
 aids to memory which are wanting in sleep (those, in parti- 
 cular, which are furnished by the objects of our external 
 senses) ; and of these aids we never fail to avail ourselves, in 
 attempting to recollect the thoughts in which the day has 
 been spent. We consider in what PLACE we were at a 
 particular time, and what persons and things we there saw ; 
 endeavouring thus to lay hold of our intellectual processes, 
 by means of the sensible objects with which they were as- 
 sociated : and yet, with all these advantages, the account 
 which most men are able to give of their meditations at the 
 close of a long summer's day, will not be found to require 
 many sentences. As in sleep, our communication with the 
 external world is completely interrupted, it is not surprising, 
 that the memory of our dreams should be much more im- 
 perfect than that of our waking thoughts ; even supposing 
 us to bestow, at the moment, an equal degree of attention 
 on both. 
 
 It is of more importance to remark, in the present argu- 
 ment, that those persons who are subject to Somnambulism, 
 seldom, if ever, retain any recollection of the objects of 
 their perceptions while under the influence of this disorder. 
 If the principles I have endeavoured to establish be just, this 
 is a necessary consequence of their inattention to what then 
 passes around them; an inattention of which nobody can 
 doubt, who has had an opportunity of witnessing the vacant 
 and unconscious stare which their eyes exhibit. The same 
 fact illustrates strongly the suspension, during sleep, of those 
 voluntary powers, to which the operations both of mind 
 and body are at other times subjected. 
 
 These considerations derive additional evidence from a 
 common remark, that idle people are most apt to dream, or, 
 at least, to 'recollect their dreams. The thoughts of the 
 busy and of the studious are directed by their habitual oc-
 
 572 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 cupations into a particular channel ; and the spontaneous 
 course of their ideas is checked and turned aside by the un- 
 remitted activity of their minds. In the heedless and dis- 
 sipated, the thoughts wander carelessly from object to ob- 
 ject, according to the obvious relations of resemblance and 
 of analogy, or of vicinity in place and time. As these are the 
 prevailing principles of association in sleep, the chances that 
 the dreams of such men shall be again presented to them in 
 the course of the following day, are infinitely multiplied. 
 
 Which of these solutions approaches most nearly to the 
 real state of the fact, I do not presume to decide. I think 
 it probable, that both of them are entitled to notice, in 
 comparing the phenomena of dreaming with the general 
 principles to which I have endeavoured to refer them. In 
 cases where our dreams are occasioned by bodily sensations, 
 or by bodily indisposition, it may be expected that the dis- 
 turbed state of our rest will prevent that total cessation of the 
 power of attention, which takes place when sleep is pro- 
 found and complete ; and, in such instances, the attention 
 which is given to our passing thoughts may enable us after- 
 wards to retrace them by an act of recollection. On the 
 other hand, the more general fact unquestionably is, that at 
 the moment of our awaking, the interval spent in sleep pre- 
 sents a total blank to the memory ; and yet, it happens not 
 unfrequently, that, at the distance of hours, some accidental 
 circumstance occurring to our thoughts, or suggested to us 
 from without, revives a long train of particulars associated 
 in the mind with each other; to which train (not being able 
 to account otherwise for the concatenation of its parts) we 
 give the name of a Dream. 
 
 After all, I an^very far from supposing that I have ex- 
 hausted this subject ; and I shall be fully satisfied with the 
 success of my inquiries, if those who are qualified to distin- 
 guish between legitimate and hypothetical theories shall ad- 
 mit, that I have pointed out the plan on which these phe- 
 nomena should be studied, and have made some progress,
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 573 
 
 {how small soever) towards its execution. Much additional 
 light, I am sensible, might have been easily thrown on this 
 part of our constitution, as well as upon many others, if I had 
 not imposed on myself the restraint of adhering, wherever 
 it was at all possible, to the modes of speaking employed by 
 my predecessors in describing our mental operations. 
 
 One remark 1 must beg leave to recommend to the con- 
 sideration of those who may hereafter engage in this re- 
 search ; that, among the astonishing appearances exhibited 
 by the mind in sleep, a very large proportion are precisely 
 analogous to those of which we are every moment conscious 
 while awake. If the exciting causes, for example, of our 
 Dreams seem mysterious and inscrutable, is not the fact the 
 same with the origin of every idea or thought which spon- 
 taneously solicits our notice ? The only difference is, that 
 in the latter instance, in consequence of long and constant 
 familiarity, they are surveyed by all with little wonder, and 
 by most with hardly any attention. In the former instance, 
 they rouse the curiosity of the most illiterate, from their 
 comparative infrequency, and from the contrast which, in 
 some respects, they present to the results of our habitual 
 experience. It is thus, that a peasant who has been accus- 
 tomed from his infancy to see, without any emotion, the 
 fall of heavy bodies to the ground, never fails to express 
 the liveliest admiration when he first witnesses the powers 
 of the loadstone. 
 
 In such cases, the researches of genuine science have a 
 tendency to produce two moral effects equally beneficial. 
 The one is to illustrate the unity of design in nature, by 
 reconciling what seems, from its rarity or singularity, to be 
 mysterious or incomprehensible, with "the general laws 
 which are familiarized to us by daily experience; the 
 other, to counteract the effects of familiarity in blunting 
 our natural curiosity with respect to these laws, by leading 
 the thoughts to some of their more curious and apparently 
 anomalous applications. 
 
 The phenomena of Dreaming may perhaps, in this last
 
 574 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 point of view, form an article not altogether useless in the 
 Natural History of Man ; inasmuch as they contribute to 
 attract our attention to those intellectual powers, from 
 which it is so apt to be withdrawn by that external world, 
 which affords the first, and (for the common purposes of 
 life) the most interesting field for their exercise. In my own 
 case, at least, this supposition has been exactly verified ; as 
 the speculations concerning the human mind which I have 
 ventured to present to the public, all took their rise from 
 the subject to which this note refers. The observations 
 which I have stated with respect to it in the text (excepting 
 a very few paragraphs since added) were written at the age 
 of eighteen, and formed a part of the first philosophical 
 essay which I recollect to have attempted. The same essay 
 contained the substance of what I have introduced in chapter 
 third, concerning the belief accompanying conception ; and 
 of the remarks stated in the third section of chapter fifth 
 on the extent of the power which the mind has over the 
 train of its thoughts. When I was afterwards led pro- 
 fessionally, at the distance of many years, to resume the 
 same studies, this short manuscript was almost the only 
 memorial I had preserved of these favourite pursuits of my 
 early youth ; and from the views which it recalled to me 
 insensibly arose the Analysis I have since undertaken of 
 our intellectual faculties in general. 
 
 For some indulgence to the egotism of this note, I must 
 trust to the good-nature of my readers. It has been length- 
 ened much beyond my original intention, by an anxiety 
 (not, I hope, unpardonable in an Author) to fix the date of 
 some of my disquisitions and conclusions, of which it is highly 
 probable I may magnify the importance beyond their just 
 value. The situation of a public teacher, (I must beg leave 
 to add,) by giving an immediate circulation to the doctrines 
 he delivers, exposes him to many inconveniences which other 
 classes of literary men have in their power to avoid. 
 
 Before concluding these remarks, I cannot help reminding 
 my readers once more, that my fundamental principle with
 
 NOTES AMD ILLUSTRATIONS. 5J5 
 
 respect to the state of the mind in sleep is, not, that the 
 power of volition is then suspended ; but that the itrfiuenceof 
 the will over the faculties both of mind and body is then 
 interrupted. (See pp. 330, 33 1, 332, 333.) I mention this 
 chiefly, in order to mark the difference between my doctrine 
 and that maintained in Dr. Darwin's Zoonomia. According 
 to this ingenious writer, " the power of volition is totally 
 " suspended in perfect sleep." (Zoonomia, vol. i. p. 315.) 
 " In the Incubus" (he observes) " the desire of moving the 
 " body is painfully exerted ; but the power of moving it, or 
 " volition, is incapable of action till we awake." (P. 288.) 
 Would he not have stated the fact more correctly, if he had 
 said, that volition is painfully exerted ; but that the power 
 of moving the body is suspended ? In the very accurate 
 phraseology of Mr. Locke, " volition is an act of the mind, 
 " knowingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have 
 ** over any part of the man, by employing it in, or with- 
 " holding it from, any particular action." This act of the 
 mind Dr. Darwin expresses by the word desire,- an indistinct- 
 ness still extremely common among metaphysical writers; 
 although it was long ago remarked and censured by the emi- 
 nent author just quoted: " I find" (says Locke) " the 
 " will often confounded with desire , and one put for the 
 " other ; and that by men, who would not willingly be 
 " thought not to have very distinct notions of things, and 
 " not to have written very clearly about them." (Essay on 
 Human Understanding, vol. i. p. 203. 13th edition.) 
 
 NOTE [P], page 349. 
 
 -L/R. REID has, with great truth, observed, that Des 
 Cartes' reasoning against the existence of the secon- 
 dary qualities of matter, owe all their plausibility to the am- 
 biguity of words. When he affirms, for example, that the 
 smell of a rose is not in the flower but in the mind, his pro-
 
 576 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 position amounts only to this, that the rose is not conscious 
 of the sensation of smell ; but it does not follow from Des 
 Cartes' reasonings, that there is no quality in the rose 
 which excites the sensation of smell in the mind; which 
 is all that any person means when he speaks of the smell of 
 that flower. For the word smell, like the names of all se- 
 condary qualities, signifies two things, a sensation in the 
 mind, and the unknown quality which fits it to excite that 
 sensation.* The same remark applies to that process of 
 reasoning by which Des Cartes attempts to prove that 
 there is no heat in the fire. 
 
 All this, I think, will be readily allowed with respect to 
 smells and tastes, and also with respect to heat and cold ; 
 concerning which I agree with Dr. Reid, in thinking that 
 Des Cartes' doctrine, when cleared of that air of mystery 
 which it derives from the ambiguity of words, differs very 
 little, if at all, from the commonly received notions. But 
 the case seems to be different with respect to colours., of the 
 nature of which the vulgar are apt to form a very confused 
 conception, which the Philosophy of Des Cartes has a ten- 
 dency to correct. Dr. Reid has justly distinguished the 
 quality of colour from what he calls the appearance of colour, 
 which last can only exist in a mind.f Now I am disposed 
 
 * Some judicious remarks on this ambiguity in the names of secon- 
 dary qualities, are made by Malebranche: 
 
 " It is only (says he) since the time of Des Cartes, that those confused 
 " and indeterminate questions, whether fire is hot, grass green, and sugar 
 " sweet, philosophers are in use to answer, by distinguishing the equi- 
 " vocal meaning of the words expressing sensible qualities. If by heat, 
 " cold, and savour, you understand such and such a disposition of parts, 
 " or some unknown motion of insensible particles, then fixe is hot, grass 
 " green, and sugar sweet. But if by heat and qther qualities you under- 
 " stand what I feel by fire, what I see in grass, &c. fire is not hot, nor grass 
 " green ; for the heat I feel, and the colours I see are only in the soul." 
 
 f Dr. Akenside, in one of his Notes on his PLEASURES of IMAGINATION, 
 observes, that colours, as apprehended by the mind, do not exist in the 
 body. By this qualification, he plainly means to distinguish what Dr. 
 Reid calls the appearance of colour, from colour considered as a quality 
 of matter.
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 577 
 
 to believe, that when the vulgar speak of colour, they com- 
 monly mean the appearance of colour ; or rather they asso- 
 ciate the appearance and its cause so intimately together, 
 that they find it impossible to think of them separately. * 
 The sensation of colour never forms one simple object of 
 attention to the mind like those of smell and taste ; but every 
 time we are conscious of it, we perceive at the same time 
 extension and figure. Hence it is, that we find it impossible 
 to conceive colour without extension, though certainly there 
 is no more necessary connection between them, than be- 
 tween extension and smell. 
 
 From this habit of associating the two together, we are 
 led also to assign them the same place, and to conceive the 
 different colours, or (to use Dr. Reid's language) the appear- 
 ance of the different colours, as something spread over the 
 surfaces of bodies. I own that when we reflect on the 
 subject with attention, we find this conception to be indis- 
 tinct, and see clearly that the appearance of colour can exist 
 only in a mind : but still it is some confused notion of this 
 sort, which every man is disposed to form who has not been 
 
 * Dr. Reid is of opinion, that the vulgar always mean to express by 
 the word colour, a quality, and not a sensation. " Colour (says he) 
 " differs from other secondary qualities in this, that whereas the name 
 " of the quality is sometimes given to the sensation which indicates it, 
 " and is occasioned by it, we never, as far as I can judge, give the name 
 " of colour to the sensation, but to the quality only." This question is 
 of no consequence for us to discuss at present, as Dr. Reid acknow- 
 ledges in the following passage, that the sensation and quality are so in- 
 timately united together in the mind, that they seem to form only one 
 simple object of thought. " When we think or speak of any particular 
 " colour, however simple the notion may seem to be which is presented 
 " to the imagination, it is really in some sort compounded; it involves 
 " an unknown cause and a known effect. The name of colour belongs 
 " indeed to the cause only, and not to the effect. But as the cause is 
 " unknown, we can form no distinct conception of it, but by its relation 
 " to the known effect. And therefore both go together in the imagina- 
 " tion, and are so closely united that they are mistaken for one simple 
 " object of thought." 
 
 Inquiry into the Hitman Mind, chap. vi. sect 4. 
 
 P P
 
 578 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 very familiarly conversant with philosophical inquiries. I 
 find, at least, that such is the notion which most readily 
 presents itself to my own mind. 
 
 Nor is this reference of the sensation, or appearance of 
 colour to an external object, a fact altogether singular in 
 our constitution. It is extremely analogous to the refer- 
 ence which we always make, of the sensations of touch to 
 those parts of the body where the exciting causes of the 
 sensations exist. If I strike my hand against a hard object, 
 I naturally say, that I feel pain in my hand. The philoso- 
 phical truth is, that I perceive the cause of the pain to be 
 applied to that part of my body. The sensation itself I can- 
 not refer in point of place to the hand, without conceiving 
 the soul to be spread over the body by diffusion. 
 
 A still more striking analogy to the fact under our con- 
 sideration, occurs in those sensations of touch which we re- 
 fer to a place beyond the limits of the body ,- as in the case of 
 pain felt in an amputated limb. 
 
 The very intimate combination to which the foregoing 
 observations on the sensation of colour relate, is taken no- 
 tice of by d'Alembert in the Encyclopedic, as one of the most 
 curious phenomena of the human mind* 
 
 " II est tres evident que le mot couleur ne designe aucune 
 ** propriete du corps, mais seulement une modification de 
 " notre ame ; que la blancheur, par exemple, la rougeur, 
 " &c. n'existeht que dans nous, et nullement dans le corps 
 " auxquels nous les rapportons ; neanmoins par une habi- 
 " tude prise des notre enfance, c'est une chose tres singu- 
 " Here et digne de 1'attention des metaphysiciens, que ce 
 " penchant que nous avons a rapporter a une substance 
 (f materielle et divisible, ce qui appartient reellement a une 
 " substance spirituelle et simple ; et rien n'est peut-etre 
 " plus extraordinaire dans- les operations de notre ame, 
 " que de la voir transporter hors d'elle-meme et etendre* 
 " pour ainsi dire, ses sensations sur une substance a laquelle 
 " elles ne peuvent appartenir." 
 
 From the following passage in Condillac's Traite des Sen-
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 579 
 
 sations, it appears that the phenomenon here remarked by 
 d'Alembert, was, in Condillac's opinion, the natural and 
 obvious effect of an early and habitual association of ideas. 
 I quote it with the greater pleasure, that it contains the 
 happiest illustration I have seen of the doctrine which I 
 have been attempting to explain. 
 
 " On pourroit faire une supposition, ou 1'odorat appren- 
 " droit a juger parfaitement des grandeurs, des figures, des 
 " situations, et des distances. II suffiroit d'un cote de sou- 
 " mettre les corpuscules odoriferans aux loix de la diop- 
 " trique, et de Pautre, de construire 1'organe de 1'odorat a 
 " peu pres sur le modele de celui de la vue; ensorte que 
 " les rayons odoriferans, apres s'etre croises a Pouverture, 
 " frappassent sur une membrane interieure autant de points 
 " distincts qu'il y en a sur les surfaces d'ou ils seroient 
 " reflechis. 
 
 " En pareil cas, nous contracterions bientot 1'habitude 
 " d'etendre les odeurs sur les objets, et les philosophes ne 
 " manqueroient pas de dire, que Podorat n'a pas besoin des 
 " Ie9ons du toucher pour appercevoir des grandeurs et des 
 " figures." 
 
 Oeiwres de CONDILLAC. Edit.Amst., vol. v. p. 223, 
 
 NOTE [Q], page 350. 
 
 " VERUM quideni est, quod hodierni musici sic loqui 
 " soleant (acutum in alto reputantes et grave in imo) 
 *' quodque ex Graecis recentioribus nonnulli sic aliquando 
 " (sed raro) loquuti videantur; apud quos sensim inolevit 
 " mos sic loquendi. Sed antiquiores Graeci plane contra- 
 " rium (grave reputantes in alto et acutum in imo). Quod 
 " etiam ad Boethii tempora continuatum est, qui in schema- 
 " tismis suis, grave semper in summo ponit, et acutum in 
 " imo." DAVID GREGORY, in Praefat. ad edit, suam Euclid. 
 Op. Oxon. 1703. 
 
 The association to which, in modern times, we are habi- 
 tuated from our infancy, between the ideas of acute and 
 high, and between those of grave and low, is accounted for 
 
 p p 2
 
 580 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 by Dr. Smith, in his Harmonics, from the formation of the 
 voice in singing ; which Aristides Quintilianus thus de- 
 scribes : " Ttvsran $s ij pev flapi/ryc, xareeflfv ava<ppf OJU-SVH TH 
 " irvsvpctTOc, ij 8 s OVT*]J gTriTroXijj Trpoie/Afvw, &c. Et quidem 
 * c gravitas fit, si ex inferiore parte (gutturis) spiritus sursum 
 " feratur, acumen vero, si per summam partem prorum- 
 " pat;" (as Meibomius translates it in his notes.) 
 
 See SMITH'S Harmonics, p. 3. 
 
 Dr. Beattie, in his ingenious Essay on Poetry and Music, 
 says, it is probable that the deepest or gravest sound was 
 called summa by the Romans, and the shrillest or acutest 
 ima : and he conjectures, that " this might have been 
 " owing to the construction of their instruments ; the 
 " string that sounded the former being perhaps highest in 
 " place, and that which sounded the latter lowest." If 
 this conjecture could be verified, it would afford a proof 
 from the fact, how liable the mind is to be influenced in 
 this respect by casual combinations. 
 
 NOTE [R], page 395. 
 
 1 HE difference between the effects of association and of 
 imagination, (in the sense in which 1 employ these words,) 
 in heightening the pleasure or the pain produced on the 
 mind by external objects, will appear from the following 
 remarks : 4 
 
 1. As far as the association of ideas operates in heighten- 
 ing pleasure or pain, the mind is passive : and accordingly 
 where such associations are a source of inconvenience, they 
 are seldom to be cured by an effort of our volition, or even 
 by reasoning ; but by the gradual formation of contrary 
 associations. Imagination is an active exertion of the 
 mind ; and although it may often be difficult to restrain it, 
 it is plainly distinguishable in theory from the associations 
 now mentioned. 
 
 2. In every case in which the association of ideas operates, 
 it is implied that some pleasure or pain is recalled which 
 was felt by the mind before. I visit, for example, a scene
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 581 
 
 where I have been once happy ; and the sight of it affects 
 me, on that account, with a degree of pleasure, which I 
 should not have received from any other scene equally beau- 
 tiful. I shall not inquire whether, in such cases, the asso- 
 ciated pleasure arises immediately upon the sight of the ob- 
 ject, and without the intervention of any train of thought ; 
 or whether it is produced by the recollection and conception 
 of former occurrences which the perception recals. On 
 neither supposition does it imply the exercise of that creative 
 power of the mind to which we have given the name of 
 Imagination. It is true, that commonly, on such occasions, 
 imagination is busy ; and our pleasure is much heightened 
 by the colouring which she gives to the objects of memory. 
 But the difference between the effects which arise from the 
 operation of this faculty, and those which result from asso- 
 ciation, is not, on that account, the less real. 
 
 The influence of imagination on happiness is chiefly felt 
 by cultivated minds. That of association extends to all ranks 
 of men, and furnishes the chief instrument of education; 
 insomuch, that whoever has the regulation of the associations 
 of another from early infancy, is, to a great degree, the 
 arbiter of his happiness or misery. 
 
 Some very ingenious writers have employed the word 
 Association in so extensive a sense, as to comprehend, not 
 only imagination, but all the other faculties of the mind. 
 Wherever the pleasing or the painful effect of an object does 
 not depend solely on the object itself, but arises either wholly 
 or in part from some mental operation to which the percep- 
 tion of it gives rise, the effect is referred to association. And 
 undoubtedly this language may be employed with propriety, 
 if the word Association be applied to all the ideas and feel- 
 ings which may arise in the mind, in consequence of the 
 exercise which the sight of the object may give to the imagi- 
 nation, to the reasoning powers, and to the other principles 
 of our nature. But in this work, and particularly in the 
 second part of chap, v., I employ the word Association in a 
 much more limited sense ; to express the effect which an
 
 582 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 object derives from ideas, or from feelings which it does 
 not necessarily suggest, but which it uniformly recals to the 
 mind, in consequence of early and long-continued habits. 
 
 NOTE [S], page 412. 
 
 1 HE following passage from Malebranche will be a suffi- 
 cient specimen of the common theories with respect to 
 memory. 
 
 ** In order to give an explanation of memory, it should 
 ** be called to mind, that all our different perceptions are 
 '* affixdd to the changes which happen to the fibres of the 
 *' principal parts of the brain, wherein the soul particularly 
 tf resides. 
 
 " This supposition being laid down, the nature of the 
 '* memory is explained : for as the branches of a tree, which 
 *' have continued for some time bent after a particular man- 
 " ner ? preserve a readiness and facility of being bent afresh 
 '* in the same manner ; so the fibres of the brain, having 
 " once received certain impressions from the current of the 
 " animal spirits, and from the action of the objects upon 
 " them, retain for a considerable time some facility of re- 
 < ceiving the same dispositions. Now the memory consists 
 " only in that promptness or facility ; since a man thinks 
 " upon the same things, whenever the brain receives the 
 " same impressions." * 
 
 " The most considerable differences," says the same 
 Author in another passage, " that are found in one and 
 " the same person, during his whole life, are in his infancy, 
 " in his maturity, and in his old age. The fibres in the 
 * ( brain in a man's childhood are soft, flexible, and delicate ; 
 " a riper age dries, hardens, and corroborates them ; but 
 " in old. age they grow altogether inflexible, gross, and in- 
 " termixed with superfluous humours, which the faint and 
 " languishing heat of that age is no longer able to disperse : 
 " for as we see that the fibres which compose the flesh 
 
 * Book ii. chap. 5. (Page 54 of TAYLOB'S Transl.) 
 10
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS', 
 
 harden by time, and that the flesh of a young partridge 
 " is without dispute more tender than that of an old one, 
 " so the fibres of the brain of a child, or a young person, 
 " must be more soft and delicate than those ef persons 
 " more advanced in years. x 
 
 We shall understand the ground and the occasion of 
 " these changes, if we consider that the fibres are continu- 
 " ally agitated by the animal spirits, which whirl about 
 " them in many different manners : for as the winds parch 
 " and dry the earth by their blowing upon it, so the animal 
 " spirits, by their perpetual agitation, render by degrees 
 " the greatest part of the fibres of a man's brain more dry, 
 " more close, and solid ; so that persons more stricken in 
 " age must necessarily have them almost always more in- 
 " flexible than those of a lesser standing. And as for these 
 " of the same age, drunkards, who for many years together 
 " have drank to excess either wine, or other such intox- 
 " icating liquors, must needs have them more solid and 
 <v more inflexible than those who have abstained from the 
 " use of such kind of liquors all their lives." * 
 
 NOTE [T], page 476. 
 
 " JL HOUGH Sir Isaac's memory was much decayed in 
 " the last years of his life, I found he perfectly under- 
 " stood his own writings, contrary to what I had frequently 
 " heard in discourse from many persons. This opinion of 
 " theirs might arise^ perhaps, from his not being always 
 " ready at speaking on these subjects, when it might be ex- 
 " pected he should. But as to this it may be observed, that 
 " great geniuses are frequently liable to be absent, not only 
 " in relation to common life, but with regard to some of 
 the parts of science they are the best informed of. In- 
 " venters seem to treasure up in their minds what they have 
 ** found out, after another manner than those do the same 
 
 # Boqfc ii. chap. 6. (Page 56 of TAYLOR'S TransL)
 
 564 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " things, who have not this inventive faculty. The former, 
 " when they have occasion to produce their knowledge, 
 " are, in some measure, obliged immediately to investigate 
 " part of what they want. For this they are not equally fit 
 " at all times; so it has often happened, that such as retain 
 " things chiefly by a very strong memory, have appeared 
 " off-hand more expert than the discoverers themselves." 
 Preface to PEMBERTON'S View of NEWTON'S Philosophy. 
 
 NOTE [U], page 524. 
 
 " VJOING over the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, 
 " talking well, and drawing fine pictures ( of it; this is 
 " so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to form a 
 '* habit of it in him who thus employs himself, that it may 
 " harden the mind in a contrary course, and render it gra- 
 " dually more insensible j i. e. form a habit of insensibility 
 *' to all moral obligations. For, from our very faculty of 
 " habits, passive impressions, by being repeated, grow 
 " weaker. Thoughts, by often passing through the mind, 
 " are felt less sensibly: being accustomed to danger, Begets 
 " intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear ; to distress lessens the passion 
 " of pity ; to instances of others' mortality, lessens the sen- 
 " sible apprehension of our own. And from these two ob- 
 " servations together, that practical habits are formed and 
 " strengthened by repeated acts; and that passive impressions 
 *' grow weaker by being repeated upon us; it must follow, 
 " that active habits may be gradually forming and strength- 
 " ening by a course of acting upon such and such motives 
 " and excitements, whilst these motives and excitements 
 " themselves are, by proportionable degrees, growing less 
 " sensible, i. e. are continually less and less sensibly felt, 
 " even as the active habits strengthen. And experience 
 " confirms this : for active principles, at the very time they 
 " are less lively in perception than they were, are found to 
 " be, somehow, wrought more thoroughly into the temper 
 " and character, and become more effectual in influencing
 
 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 585 
 
 " our practice. The three things just mentioned may 
 " afford instances of it. Perception of danger is a natural 
 " excitement of passive fear and active caution : and by 
 " being inured to danger, habits of the latter are gradu- 
 " ally wrought, at the same time that the former gradually 
 " lessens. Perception of distress in others, is a natural ex- 
 " citement passively to pity, and actively to relieve it : but 
 " let a man set himself to attend to, inquire out, and re- 
 " lleve distressed persons, and he cannot but grow less and 
 " less sensibly affected with the various miseries of life with 
 " which he must become acquainted; when yet, at the 
 " same time, benevolence, considered not as a passion, but 
 " as a practical principle of action, will strengthen ; and 
 " whilst he passively compassionates the distressed less, he 
 " will acquire a greater aptitude actively to assist and be- 
 " friend them. So also, at the same time that the daily 
 " instances of men's dying around us, give us daily a less 
 " sensible passive feeling or apprehension of our own mor- 
 " tality, such instances greatly contribute to the strength- 
 " ening a practical regard to it in serious men ; i. e. to 
 " forming a habit of acting with a constant view to it." 
 
 BUTLER'S Analogy, page 122. 3d edit. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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