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ELEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 \= 
 
 PHILOSOPUf"^!^ 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. 
 
 BY DUGALD STEWART, i 
 
 PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSTTY, AND EEILOW OS 
 THE ROYAL SOCIETY OF EDINBURGH J 
 HONORARY MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES 
 AT ST. PETERSBURGH J 
 AND MEMBER OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SO- 
 CIETY HELD AT PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 ■^$;44 
 
 THIRD AMERICAN EDITION, CORRECTED. 
 
 BRArrLEMOROUCH^ FT. 
 PUBLISHED BY WILLIAM FESSENDEN. 
 
 1813. 
 
Iftii 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IN various parts of the following Work, referen- 
 ces are made to fubfequent fpeculations, which are 
 not contained in it. Thefe fpeculations it is my in- 
 tention to refume at fome future period : but when 
 I confider the extent of my fubjed, and the many 
 accidents which may divert me from the profecution 
 of it, I cannot venture fo far as to announce, in the 
 title-page of this volume, any promife of a future 
 publication. 
 
 Some additional chapters are ftill wanting, to com- 
 plete the Analyiis of the Intellectual Powers. After 
 finilhing this, the courfe of my inquiries would lead 
 me to treat, in the fecond place, of Man confidered 
 as an Adive and Moral being ; and, thirdly, of Man 
 confidered as the member of a Political Society. 
 
 College of Edinburgh^ 
 March 13, 1792. 
 
Digitized by tine Internet, Arciiive 
 in 2bo7'with fundiHgtrom ' 
 IVIicrdsoft Coroorktioh 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/elementsofphilosOOstewricli 
 
CONTENTS, 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 PART 1. 
 
 Page. 
 OF the Nature and Object of the Philosophy of 
 
 the Human Mind, 9 
 
 PART II. 
 Sect, I.— Of the Utility of the Philosophy of the 
 
 Human Mind, ... - 23 
 
 II. — Continuation of the same Subject, - 46 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Of the Powers of External Perception, 
 Sect. I.— Of the Theories which have been formed 
 by Philosophers, to explain the Manner 
 in which the Mind perceives external 
 
 Objects, 62 
 
 II. — Of certam natural Prejudices, which seem 
 to have given rise to the common The- 
 ories of Perception, - - - 68 
 III. — Of Dr. Reid's Speculations on the Sub- 
 ject of Perception, 83 
 IV. — Of the Origin of our Knowledge, 88 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of Attention^ « - 96 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of Conception^ - - 121 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Of Abstraction, 
 Sect. I.— General Observations on this Faculty of 
 
 the Mind, . - - 137 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 II. — Of the Objects of our Thoughts, when 
 
 we employ general Terms, - 144 
 
 III.— -Remarks on tht; Opinions of some mod- 
 ^ ern Philosophers on the Subject of the 
 foregoing Section, - - 163 
 
 IV. — Continuation of the same Subject. — In- 
 ferences with respect to the Use of 
 Language as an instrument of Thought 
 and the Errors in Reasoning to which 
 it occasionally gives rise, - 17ft 
 
 V. — Of the Purposes to which the powers of 
 Abstraction and Generalization are 
 subservient, - - - 182, 
 
 VI. — Of the Errors to which we are liable in 
 Speculation, and in the Conduct of 
 Affairs, in consequence of a rash Ap- 
 plication of general Principles, - 191 
 VII. — Continuation ot the same Subject. — Dif™ 
 ferences in the intellectual Characters 
 of individuals, arising from their differ- 
 ent Habits of Abstraction and Gener- 
 alisation, - . - - 199 
 VIII. — Continuation of the same Subject. — Use 
 and Abuse of general Principles in 
 Politics, - - . _ 20T 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Of the Association of Ideasy - 245 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Of the Influence oj Association in regulating the Succes- 
 sion of our Thoughts, 
 
 Sect. I. — General Observations on this Part of our 
 Constitution, and on the Language of 
 Philosophers with respect to it, - jb. 
 
CONTENTS. vii 
 
 II. — Of the Principles of Associaiion ameng 
 
 oui Ideas, - - - 255 
 
 HI. — Of the Power which the Mind has over 
 
 the Train of its Thoughts, - 264 
 
 IV. — Illustrations of the Doctrine stated in the 
 
 preceding Section, - - ^65 
 
 1. Of Wit, - - ib. 
 
 2. Of Rhyme, - - 270 
 
 3. Of Poetical Fancy, - - 275 
 
 4. Of Invention in the arts and Sci- 
 ences, - - - - 279 
 
 V. — Application of the Principles stated in the 
 foregoing Sections of this Chapter, to 
 explain the Phenomena of Dreaming, 288 
 PART II. 
 Cf the Influence of Association on the Intellectual and on 
 
 the Active Powers. 
 Sect. I. — Of the Influence of casual Associations on 
 
 our speculative conclusions, - 306 
 
 Il.—Of the Influence of the association of Ideas 
 
 on our Judgments in Matters of Taste, 324 
 III. — Of the Influence of Association on our 
 ^ active Principles and on our moral 
 
 Judgments, - . - . 339 
 IV. — General remarks on the Subjects treated 
 
 in the foregoing sections of this chapter 349 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Of Memory. 
 
 Sect. I. — General Observations on Memory, 5s:i 
 
 II« — Of the varieties of Memory in different 
 
 individuals, - . . ^^$ 
 
 III. — Of the improvement of Memory. — Anal- 
 ysis of the principles on which the 
 Cuhure of Memory depends, - 376 
 
vhi. CONTENTS. 
 
 IV. — Continuation of the same subject. — Of 
 the aid which the Memory derives 
 from Philosophical Arrangement, 382 
 
 v.— Continuation of the same subject. — Ef- 
 fects produced on the Memory by 
 committing to writing our acquired 
 Knowledge, - - - 391 
 
 VI. — Continuation of the same subject. — Of 
 
 Artificial memory, - - - 3J8 
 VII.— Continuation of the same subject. — Im- 
 portance of making a proper Selection 
 among the Objects of our Knowledge, 
 in order to derive advantage from the 
 acquisitions of Memory, - 404 
 
 VIII.— Of the Connexion between memory and 
 
 Philosophical Genius, - - 412 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Of Imagination* 
 
 Sect. I. — Analysis of Imagination, - - 420 
 
 II — Of Imagination considered in its relation 
 
 to some of the Fine Arts, - - 428 
 III. — Continuation of the same subject. — Re- 
 lation of Imagination and of Taste to 
 Genius, - - - 442 
 
 IV. — Of the influence of Imagination on Hu- 
 man Character and Happiness, - 444 
 V — Contmuation of the same Subject. — In- 
 conveniences resultmg from an ill-reg- 
 ulated Imagination, - - 451 
 VI. — Continuation of the same Subject. — Im- 
 portant Uses to which the power of 
 Imagination is subservient, - 462 
 
 Notes and Illustrations, - - ^ 46r 
 
ELEMENTS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. 
 
 "»•• e se® i<£S^!® ® ® ««e • 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 PARTL 
 
 Of the Nature andObjed of the Philofophy of the Human 
 Mind, 
 
 THE prejudice which is commonly entertained a- 
 gainft metaphyfical fpeculations, ieems to arile chief-, 
 ly from two caufes : Firll, from an apprehenfion that 
 thefubjects about vvhich they are emphu ed, are pla- 
 ced beyond the reach of the human faculties ; and, 
 fecondly, from a belief that theie fubjects have no 
 relation to the bufinefs of life. 
 
 The frivolous and abfurd difcuflions which abound 
 in the writings of moft Metaphyfical authors, afford 
 but too many arguments in juitification of thefe o*. 
 pinions; and if fuch difcuflions were to be admit- 
 ted as a fair fpecimen of wliat the human mind is 
 able to accomplilh in this department of fcience, the 
 contempt, into which it has fallen of late, might with 
 B 
 
J(5 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILSOPHY 
 
 juftice be regarded, as no inconfiderable evidence of 
 the progrcfs which true philofophy has made in the 
 prelent age. Among the various fubjects of inqui- 
 ry, however, which, in confcquence of the vague ufe 
 of language, are comprehended under the general ti- 
 tle of Metaphyfics, there are fome, which are eflen- 
 tially dillinguiflied from the reft, both by the degree 
 of evidence which accompanies their principles, and 
 by the relation which they bear to.theufefulfciences 
 and arts : and it has unfortunately happened, that 
 thefe have (liared in that general difcredit, into which 
 the other branches of metaphyfics have juftly fallen. 
 To this circumilance is probably to be afcribed, the 
 little progrcfs which has hitherto been made in the 
 Philofophy oj the Human Mind ; a fcience, fo intereft- 
 ing in its nature, and fo important in its applications, 
 that it could fcarcely have failed, in thefe inquifitive 
 and enlightened times, to have excited a very gener- 
 al attention, if it had not accidentally been claffed, in 
 the public opinion, with the vain and unprofitable 
 dilquifitions of the fchool-men. 
 
 In order to obviate thefe mifapprehenfions with 
 relped to the fubject of the following work, I have 
 thought it proper, in this preliminary chapter, firft, 
 to explain the Nature of the truths which I propofe 
 to inveftigate ; and, fecondly, to point out fome of 
 the more important Applications of which they are 
 . fufceptible. In ftating thefe prelimiBary obferva- 
 tions, I may perhaps appear to fome to be minute 
 and tedious ; but this fault, I am confident, will be 
 readily pardoned by thofe, who have fi:udied with 
 care the principles of that fcience of which I am to 
 treat ; and who are anxious to remove the prejudi- 
 ces which have, in a great meafure, excluded it from 
 the modern lyftems of education. In the progrefs 
 of my work, I flatter myfelf that I Ihall not often 
 have occafion to folicit the indulgence of my read- 
 ers, for an unueceiiarv diflufenefs. 
 
Ol' THE HUMAN MIND. 11 
 
 The notions v\ve annex to the words, matter, and 
 •ja^ind, as is well remarked by Dr. Reid,* are merely- 
 relative. If I am alked v/hat I mean by matter ? [ 
 can only explain myfeif by faying, it is that which is 
 extended, figured, coloured, moveable, hard or foft, 
 rough or fmooth, hot or cold ; — that is, I can de- 
 fine it in no other way, than by enumerating its fenfi- 
 ble qualities. It is not matter, or body, which I per- 
 ceive by my fenfes ; but only extenfion, figure, col- 
 our, and certain other qualities, which the conftitu- 
 tion of my nature leads me to refer to fonething, 
 which is extended, figured, and coloured. The cafe 
 is precifely fimilar with refpeci to Mind. We are 
 not immediately conlcious of its exillence, but we 
 are confcious of fenfation, thought, and volition ; 
 operations, which imply the exiftence of fomething 
 which feels, thinks, and wills. Every man too is 
 impreffed with an irrefiftible convidion, that all 
 thefe fenfations, thoughts, and volitions, belong to 
 one and the fame being ; to that being, which he 
 calls himfelf ; a being, which he is led, by the confti- 
 tution of his nature, to confider as fomething dif- 
 tincl from his body, and as not liable to be impair- 
 ed by the lofs or mutilation of any of his organs. 
 
 From thefe confiderations, it appears, that we have 
 the fame evidence for the exiftence of mind, that we 
 have for the exiftence of body ; nay, if there be any 
 difference between the two cafes, that we have ftron- 
 ger evidence for it ; inafmuch as the one is fuggtft- 
 ed to us by the fubjedls of our own conlcioufnefs, 
 and the other merely by the objedls of our own per- 
 ceptions : and in this light, undoubtedly, the face 
 would appear to every perfon, w^ere it not, that, 
 from our earlieft years, the attention is engrofled 
 with the qualities and laws of matter, an acquain- 
 tance with which is abfolutely neceflary for the 
 prefervation of our animal exiftence. Hence it is, 
 * Essays on the Active Powers of Man, p. 8, 9, 
 
13 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 that tliefc phenomena occupy our thoughts more 
 than thofe of mind : that we are perpetually tempt- 
 ed to explain the latter by the analogy of the for- 
 iner^ and even to endeavor to refer them to the fame 
 general laws ; and that we acquire habits of inatten- 
 tion to the fubjecls of our confcioufnefs, top ftrong 
 to be afterwards furmounted, without the moil per- 
 fevering induilry. 
 
 If the foregoing obfervations be well founded, they 
 cftablifli the difHnclion between mind and matter, 
 without any longprocefs of metaphyfical reafoning*: 
 for if our notions of both are merely relative ; if 
 we know the one, only by fuch fenfible qualities as 
 extenfion, figure, and folidity ; and the other, by 
 fuch operations as fenfation, thought, and voHtion ; 
 we are certainly entitled to fay, that matter and 
 mind, conlidered as objects of human ftudy, are ef- 
 fentially different ; the fcience of the former refling 
 ultimately on the phenomena exhibited to our fen- 
 fes ; that of the latter, on the phenomena of which 
 we are confcious. Inftead, therefore, of objeding 
 to the fcheme of materialifm, that its conclufions are 
 falfe, it would be more accurate to fay, that its aim 
 is unphilofophical. It proceeds on a mifapprehen- 
 fion of the proper object of fcience; the difficulty 
 which it profeiTes to remove being manifeflly placed 
 beyond the reach of our faculties. Surely, when 
 we attempt to explain the nature of thai principle 
 which feels and thinks and wills, by faying, that it 
 is a material iubftance, or that it is the refult of ma- 
 terial organization, we impofe or, durfelves by words 
 — forgetting, that matter as well as mind is known 
 to us by its quaUties and attributes alone, and that 
 we are totally ignorant of the eflence of either.f 
 
 * See Note [A] at the end of the volume. 
 
 t Some Metaj)hysicians, who appear to admit the truth of the 
 foregoing reasoning, have farther urged, that for any thing we can 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 13 
 
 As all our knowledge of the material world is de- 
 rived from the information of our fenfes, natural 
 philofophers have, in modern times, vv'ifely abandon- 
 ed to metaphyficians, all (peculations concerning the 
 nature of that fubftance of which it is composed ; 
 concerning the pollibility or impofTibility of its being 
 created ; concerning the efficient caufes of the chan- 
 ges which take place in it ; and even concerning the 
 reality of its exiftence, independent of that of per- 
 cipient beings : and have confined themfelves to the 
 humbler province of obferving the phenomena it ex- 
 hibits, and of afcertaining their general laws. By 
 purfuing this plan fteadily, they have, in the courfe 
 of the two laft centuries, formed a body of fcience, 
 which not only does honor to the human underftand- 
 ing, but has had a moft important influence on the 
 practical arts of life. This experimental philofophy, 
 no one now is in danger of confounding with the 
 metaphylical fpeculations already mentioned. Of 
 the importance of thefe, as a feparate branch of ftudy, 
 it is poflible that fome may think more favorably 
 than others ; but they are obvioufly different in 
 their nature, from the invefligations of phyfics ; and 
 it is of the utmoft confequence to the evidence of 
 this laft fcience, that its principles Ihould not be blen- 
 ded with thofe of the former. 
 
 A fimilar diftinclion takes place among the ques- 
 tions which may be flated relative to the human 
 miad.^— Waether it be extended or unextended ; 
 whether or not it has any relation to place ; and (if 
 it hasj whether it refides in the brain, or be fpread 
 
 prove to the contrary, it is }jossible, that the unknown substance 
 which has the qualities of extciision, figure, and colour, may be the 
 sanoe with the unknown s-ubstiince which h.ist he attributes o' feel- 
 ing thinking and willing. But besides that this is only an hypo- 
 thesis, 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 tay ol body, that it is spirituul. 
 
14 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 over the body, by difiufion ; are queftions perfectly 
 analogous to thofe which metaphyficians have ftarted 
 on the iubject of matter. It is iinnecefTary to inquire 
 at prefent whether or not they admit of anfwer. It 
 is fulEcient for my purpofe to remark, that they are 
 as widely and obvioufly different from the vievv- 
 which I propofe to take, of the human mind in the 
 following work, as the reveries of Berkeley concern- 
 ing the non-exiftence of the material world, are from 
 the conclufions of Newton and his followers. — It is 
 farther evident, that the metaphyfical opinions, which 
 we may happen to have formed concerning the na- 
 ture either of body or of mind, and the efficient 
 caufes by which their phenomena are produced, have 
 no neceffary connexion with our enquiries concern- 
 ing the laws, according to which thefe phenomena 
 take place. — Whether (for example) the caufe of 
 gravitation be material or immaterial, is a point about 
 which two Newtonians may differ, while they agree 
 perfectly in their phyfical opinions. It is fufficient 
 if both admit the general fad, that bodies tend to 
 approach each other, with a force varying with their 
 mutual diftance, according to a certain law. In like 
 manner in the ftudy of the human mind, the con- 
 clufion to which we are led by a careful examination 
 of the phenomena it exhibits, have no neceffary con- 
 nexion with our opinions concerning its nature and 
 cffence. — That when two fubje6ts of thought, for in- 
 ftance, have been repeatedly prefented to the mind 
 in conjunction, the one has a tendency to fugged the 
 other, is a fact of which I can no more doubt, than 
 of any thing for which I have the evidence of my 
 fenfes ; and it is plainly a fad totally unconneded 
 with any hypothefis concerning the nature of the 
 foul, and which will be as readity admitted by the 
 materialift as by the Berkeleian. 
 
 Notwithftanding, however, the reality and im- 
 portance of this diftinction, it has not hitherto beeH 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINDr 15 
 
 fufficiently attended to, by the philofophers who 
 have treated of the human mind. Dr. Reid is per- 
 haps the only one who has perceived it clearly, or at 
 leaft who has kept it lleadiiy in view, in ail his inqui- 
 ries. In the writings, indeed, of feveral other mod- 
 ern metaphyficians, we meet with a variety of irfi- 
 portant and well afcertained facls ; but in general, 
 thefe facls are blended with fpeculations upon ful> 
 jeds which are placed beyond the reach of the human 
 faculties. — It is this mixture of fact, and of hypothe- 
 cs, which has brought the philofophy of mind into 
 fome degree of difcredit ; nor will ever its real value 
 be generally acknowledged, till the difiinclion I have 
 endeavoured to illuftrate, be underftood, and attend- 
 ed to, by thofe who fpeculate on the fubjed. By 
 confining their attention to the fenfible qualities of 
 body, and to the fenfible phenomena it exhibits, we 
 know what discoveries natural philofophers have 
 .made : and if the labours of Metaphyficians fhall ever 
 be rewarded with fimilar fuccefs, it can only be, by 
 attentive and patient reflection on the fubjects of 
 their own confcioufnefs. 
 
 I cannot help taking this opportunity of remark- 
 ing on the other hand, that if phyfical inquirers Ihould 
 think of again employing themfelves in fpecuhtions 
 about the nature of matter, inftead of attempting to 
 afcertain its fenfible properties and laws, (and of late 
 there feems to be fuch a tendency among fome of the 
 followers of Bofcovich,) they will foon involve them- 
 felves in an inextricable labyrinth, and the firft prin- 
 ciples of phyfics will be rendered as myfterious and 
 chimerical, as the pncumatology of the ichool-men. 
 
 The little progrefs which has hitherto been made 
 in the philofophy of mind, will not appear furprifing 
 to thofe who have attended to the hillory of natui al 
 knowledge. It is only fince the time of Lord Bicon, 
 that the lludy of it has been profecuted with any 
 degree of fuccels, or that the proper method of con- 
 
16 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 dueling it has been generally underflood. There is 
 even fome reafon for doubting, from the crude fpec- 
 illations on medical and chemical fubjecls which are 
 daily offered to the public, whether it be yet under- 
 flood fo completely as is commonly imagined ; and 
 whether a fuller illuflration ot the rules of philofo- 
 phifing, than Bacon or his followers have given, might 
 not: be ufeful, even to phyfical inquirers. 
 
 When we reflect, in this manner, on the fliortnefs 
 of the period during which natural philofophy has 
 been fuccefsfully cultivated ; and at the fame time, 
 confider how open to our examination the laws of 
 matter are, in comparifon of thofe which regulate 
 the phenomena of thought, we fhall neither be dis- 
 pofed to wonder, that the philofophy of mind fliould 
 ilill remain in its infancy, nor be difcouraged in our 
 hopes concerning its future progrefs. The excellent 
 models of this fpecies of invefligation, which the 
 writings of Dr. Reid exhibit, give us ground to ex- 
 pect that the time is not far diflant when it fhall as- 
 fume that rank which it is entitled to hold among 
 the fciences. 
 
 It would probably contribute much to accelerate 
 the progrefs of the philofophy of mind, if a diflinCt 
 explanation were given of its nature and object ; and 
 if fome general rules were la'd down, with refpecl to 
 the proper method of conducing the fludy of it. 
 To this fubject, however, which is of fullicient extent 
 to furnifh matter for a feparate work, I cannot at- 
 tempt to do jullice at prefent ; and fhall therefore 
 confine myfelt to the illuflration of a few fundamen- 
 tal principles, which it will be of effential importance 
 for us to keep i-n view in the following inquirers. . 
 
 Upon a flight attention to the operations of our 
 own minds, they appear to be fo compHcated, and 
 fo infinitely diverfified, that it feems to be impofTible 
 to reduce them to any general laws. In confequence, 
 however, of a more ac'curate examination, the prof- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 17 
 
 J?e<5t dears up 5 and the phenomena, which appearedj 
 at firft, to be too various tor our comprehenlion,are 
 found to be the refuit of a comparatively fmali num- 
 ber of fimpie and uncompounded faculties, or of 
 fimple and uncompounded principles of action. 
 Thefe faculties and principles are the general laws of 
 our conlHtutioUj and hold the fame place in the 
 philofophy of mind, that the general laws we invef- 
 tigate in phyfics, hold in that branch of fcience. In 
 both cafes, the laws which nature has eftabliflied, 
 are to be inveftigated only by an examination of 
 fads ; and in both cafes, a knowledge of thefe laws 
 leads to an explanation of an infinite number of 
 phenomena. 
 
 In the inveftigation of phyfical laws, it is well 
 known, that our inquiries muft always terminate in 
 fome general fad:, of which no account can be given, 
 but that fuch is the conftitution of nature. After 
 we have eftabhftied, for example, from the aftro- 
 novnical phenomena, the univerfality of the law of 
 gravitation, it may ftili be afkvd, whether this law 
 implies the conftant agency of mind ; and (upon the 
 fuppolltion that it does) whether it be probable that 
 the Deity always operates immediately, or by means 
 of fubordinate inftrun ents ? But thefe queftions, 
 however curious, do not fall under the province of 
 the natural philoiopher. It is iufficient for his pur- 
 pofe, if the univerfality of the facl be admitted. 
 
 The cafe is exactly the fame in the philofophy 
 of mind. When we have once afcertaincd a gen- 
 eral fact ; fuch as, the various laws which regulate 
 the aflbciation of ideas, or the dependence of mem- 
 ory on that effort of the mind which we call i^tten- 
 tion ; it is all we ought to aim at, in this branch of 
 fcience. If we proceed no farther than fads for 
 which we have the evidence of our own coi:lci(>uf- 
 nefs, our con'-lufioi.s v\ill be no lefs certain, 1 n 
 thofe in phyfics : but if our curiuiiiy leads Ub to at- 
 C 
 
18 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tempt an explanation of the afTociation of ideas, by 
 certain fuppofed vibrations, or other changes, in the 
 ftate of the brain ; or to explain memory, by means 
 of fuppofed impreflions and traces in the fenforium ; 
 we evidently blend a coliedion of important and 
 well afcertained truths, with principles which reft 
 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 wlmt manner they are 
 united. 
 
 Lord Bacon was, T believe, the first who gave a distinct idea of 
 this sort of speculation; and I do not know that much progress has 
 yet been made in it. In his books de Augmentis Scientiarum, » 
 variety of subjects are enumerated, in order to illustrate 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 Qualifica- 
 tions of a Physician. < 
 
 1. The doctrine of the preservation and improvement of the dif- 
 ferent senses. 
 
 2. The history of the power and influence of imagination. 
 
 3. The history of the several species of enthusiasm. 
 
 4 The history oi the various circumstances in parents, that have- 
 an influence on conception, and the constitution and characters 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 thing? 
 as operate on the mind and body, in consequence of impressions 
 made on the senses. 
 
 8. The history of natural signs and language, comprehending 
 the doctrifieof physiognomy and of outward gesture. 
 
 9. The history of the power and laws of the principle of imita- 
 tion. 
 
 To this list various other subjects might be added ; particularly, 
 the hifatory of the laws of memory^ in so far as they appear to be 
 connected with the state of the body ; and the history of the di!^ 
 ferent species of madness. 
 
 This view of the connection between Mind and Matter does not 
 fall properly under the plan of the following work ; in which my 
 
of THE HUMAN MIND. 19 
 
 The obfervations which have been now ftated, 
 with refpecl to the proper Umits of philofophical cu- 
 rioiity, have too frequently efcaped the attention of 
 fpeculative men, in all the different departments of 
 fcience. In none of thefe, however, has this inat- 
 tention produced fuch a variety of errors and abfur- 
 dities, as in the fcience of mind ; a fubjed; to which, 
 till of late, it does not feem to have been fufpeded, 
 that the general rules of philofophifing are applicable. 
 The llrange mixture of fad: and hypotheiis, which 
 the greater parr of mctaphyfical inquiries exhibit, 
 had led almolt univerfally to a belief, that it is only a 
 very faint and doubtful light, which human reafon 
 can ever exped to throw on this dark, but intereft- 
 mg, field of fpeculation. 
 
 Befide this inattention to the proper limits of phi- 
 lofophical inquiry, other fources of error, from 
 which the fcience of phyfics is entirely exempted, 
 have contributed to retard the progrefs of the phi- 
 lofophy of mind. Of thefe, the moft important 
 proceed from that difpofition which is fo natural to 
 every perfon at the commencement of his philo- 
 fophical purfuits, to explain intelledual and moral 
 phenomena by the analogy of the material world. 
 
 I before took notice of thofe habits of inattention 
 to the fubjects of our confcioufnefs, which take 
 their rife in that period of our lives when we are ne- 
 ceffarily employed in acquiring a knowledge of the 
 properties and laws of matter. In confequence of 
 this early familiarity with the phenomena of the 
 material world, they appear to us lefs myfterious 
 than thofe of mind ; and we are apt to think that 
 
 leading object is to ascertain the principles of our nattire, 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 phe- 
 nomena arising from them. Variouii incidejital remarks, however, 
 will occur in the course of our inquiries, tending to illustrate some 
 of the subjects comprehended in tlie foregoing enumeration. 
 
20 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPf^Y 
 
 « 
 
 'ive have advanced one ftep in explaining the latter, 
 when we can point out fome analop^y between theiH 
 and the former. It is owing to the fame circum- 
 fiance, that we have fcarcely any appropriated lan- 
 guage with refpe(^ to mind, and that the words 
 wliich exprefs its different operations, are aim- ft 41 
 borrowed from the objects of our fenfes. It muft, 
 however, appear manifeft, upDn a very little reflec- 
 tion, that as the two fubjefts are eifeiitially diftincl, 
 and as each of them has its peculiar laws, the analo- 
 gies we are pleafed to fancy between them, can be 
 of no ufe in illuftrating either ; and* that it is no lefs 
 unphilofophical to attempt an explanation of percep- 
 tion, or of the affociation of ideas, upon mechanical 
 principles ; than it would be to explain the phenomp 
 ena of gravitation, by fupi-oQng, as fome of he an- 
 cients did, the particles of matter to be animated 
 with principles of motion ; or to explain the chem- 
 ical phenomena of elective attractions, by fuppofmg 
 the fubftances among which they are obferved, to be 
 endowed with thought and volition.— The analogy 
 of matter, therefore, can be of no ufe in the inqui- 
 ries which form the object of the following work ; 
 but, on the contrary, is to be guarded againft, as 
 one of the principal fources of the errors to which 
 we are liable. 
 
 Among the difFef ent philofophers who have Ipec- 
 ulated concerning the human mind, very few indeed 
 can be mentioned, who have at all times been able 
 to guard againft analogical theories. At the fame 
 time, it muft be acknowledged, that fince the publi- 
 cation of Des Cartes' writings, there has been a grad- 
 ual, and, on the whole, a very remark ible improve- 
 ment in this branch of fcience. One ftr.ldng proof 
 of this is, the contraft between the metaphyfical ipec- 
 ulations of fome of the n)oft eminint philofophers in 
 England at the end of the laft century, and thofe 
 which we find in the fyftems, however imperfect., of 
 
OF THE HUMAN MTND. 21 
 
 the prefent age. Would any writer now offer to 
 the world, fuch conclufions with refpefl to the mind, 
 as are contained in the two following paffages from 
 Locke and Newton ? "Habits," (fays Locke,) "feetn 
 " to be but tra ns of motion, in the animal fpirits, 
 " which, once fet a-going, contiiiue in the (lime fteps 
 " they had been ufed to, which, by often treading, 
 ^' are worn into a fmooth path." And Newton hiin- 
 felf has propofed the folio ^ing query, concerning the 
 manner in which the mind perceives external obj;cts. 
 *' Is not," (fays he,) " the fenforium of aninials the 
 *' place where the fentient fubltance is prefent, and 
 *' to which the fenfible fpecies of things are brought, 
 " through the nerves and brain, that they may be 
 *' perceived by the mind prefent in that place ?*' — 
 In the courfe of the following Effays, I (hall have oc- 
 cafion to quote various other piffages from later 
 writers, in which an attempt is made to explain the 
 other phenomena of mind upon finiilar priiciples. 
 
 It is however much to be regretted, that even 
 lince the period when philofophers began to adopt a 
 more rational plan of inquiry with refpect to fuch 
 fubjccts,they have been obliged to fpend fo much of 
 their time in clearing away the rubbifh collected by 
 their predeceffurs. This indeed was a preliminary 
 flep, which the ftate of the kience, and the conciu- 
 fions to which it had led, rendered abfolutely nectf- 
 fary ; for, however important the pofitive advanta- 
 ges may be, which are to be expected from it^ future 
 progrefs, they are by no mear.s fo eifential to human 
 improvement and happinefs, as a fatistadory refuta- 
 tion of that fceptical philofophy, which had ftruck 
 at the root of all knowledge, and a.l belief. Such a 
 refutation feems to have been the principal object 
 which Dr. Reid propofed to himfelf in his metaphys- 
 ical inquiries ; and to this object his labours have 
 been directed with fo much a ility, candor, and per- 
 feverance, that unlefs future fceptics ihouid occupy 
 
ti2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 a ground very different from that of their predecef- 
 fors, it is not likely that the controverfy will ever be 
 renewed. The rubbilh being now removed, and 
 the foundations laid, it is time to begin the fuper- 
 ftruclure. I'he progrefs which I have made in it is, 
 I am fenlible, very inconfiderable ; yet I flatter my- 
 felf, that the little 1 have done, will be fufficient to il- 
 luitrate the importance of the ftudy, and to recom- 
 mend the fubjects of which I am to treat, to the at- 
 tention of others. 
 
 After the remarks which I have now made, the 
 reader will not be furprifed to find, ihc\t I have ftudi- 
 oufly avoided the confideration of thofe queftions 
 which have been agitated in the prefent age, between 
 the patrons of the fceptical philofophy, and their op- 
 ponents. Thefe controverfies have, in truth, no pe- 
 culiar connexion with the inquiries on w^hich I am 
 to enter. It is indeed only by an examination of 
 the principles of our nature, that they can be brought 
 to a fatisfaclory conclufion ; but fuppofing them to 
 remain undecided, our fceptical doubts concerning 
 the certainty of human knowledge, would no more 
 affecl the philofophy of mind, than they would affed 
 any of the branches of phyfics; nor would our doubts 
 concerning even the exiftence of mind, affedl this 
 branch of fcience, any more than the doubts of the 
 Berkeleian, concerning the exiftence of matter, affed: 
 his opinions in natural philofophy. 
 
 To what purpofes the philofophy of the human 
 mind according to the view which I propofe to take 
 of it, is fubfervient, I (hall endeavor to explain, at 
 foaie length, in the following fection* 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 23 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Utility of the Philofophy of the Human Mind. 
 
 IT has been often remarked, that there is a mu- 
 tual connexion between the different arts and fcien- 
 ces, 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 re- 
 mote relation. The modern difcoveries in aflrono- 
 my, and in pure mathematics, have contributed to 
 bring the art of navigation to a degree of perfection 
 formerly unknown. The rapid progrefs which has 
 been lately made in aftronomy, anatomy, and bota- 
 ny, has been chiefly owing to the aid which thefe 
 fciences have received from the art of the optician. 
 
 Although, however, the different departments of 
 fcience and of art mutually refled light on each oth- 
 er, it is not always neceffiry either for the philofopher 
 or the artift to aim at the acquifition of general 
 knowledge. Both of them may fafely take many 
 principles for granted, without being able to demon- 
 ftrate their truth. A feaman, though ignorant of 
 mathematics, may apply, with corredinefs and dex- 
 terity, the rules for finding the longitude : An allro- 
 nomer, or a botanift, though ignorant of optics, may 
 avail himfelf of the ufe of the telefcope, or the mi- 
 crofcope.. 
 
 Thefe obfervations are daily exemplified in the 
 cafe of the artift ; who has feldom either inclination 
 or leifure to fpeculate concerning the principles of 
 his art. It is rarely, however, we meet with a man 
 of fcience, who has confined his ftudles wholly to 
 one branch of knowledge That curiofity, which 
 he has been accuftomed to indulge in the courfe of 
 
34 ELEMENTS OE T*HE PHILOSOPHY' 
 
 his favorite purfuit, \vill naturally extend itfelf to 
 every remarkable objecV. which falls under his obfer- 
 vatiim ; and can icarcely fail to be a fource of perpet- 
 ual diffitisfaclion to his mind, till it has been fo far 
 gratified as to enable him to explain all the various 
 phenomena, which his profeilional habits are every 
 day preienting to his view. 
 
 As every particular Icience is in this manner con- 
 nefted with others, to which it naturally directs the; 
 attention, fo all the purfuits of life, whether they 
 terminate infpeculation or aclion, are connected with 
 that general fcience, which has the human mind for 
 its objecl. The powers of the underftanding are 
 infcruments which all men employ ; and his curiofi- 
 ty muft be fmall indeed, who paffes through life in 
 a total ignorance of faculties, which his wants and 
 necefllties force him habitually to exercife, and which 
 fo remarkably diftinguilh man from the lower ani- 
 mals. The active principles of our nature, which, 
 by their various modifications and combinations^ 
 give rife to all the moral differences among men, are 
 fitted, in a ftill higher degree, if poffible, to intereft 
 thofe, who are either difpofed to reflecV on their own 
 characters, or to obferve, with attention, the charac- 
 ters of others. The phenomena refulting from thefe 
 faculties and principles of the mind, are every mo- 
 ment foliciting our notice ; and open to our exa'min- 
 atlon, a field of difcovery, as inexhauftible as the 
 phenomena of the material world ; and exhibiting 
 not lefs ftriking marks of divine wifdom. 
 
 While all the fciences, and all the purfuits of life, 
 have this common tendency to lead our inquiries to 
 the philofophy of the human nature, this laft branch 
 of knowledge borrows its principles from no other 
 fcience whatever. Hence there is fomething in the 
 ftudy of it, which is peculiarly gratifying to a reflecl: 
 ing and inquifitive mind ; and fomething in the con 
 tluuons to which it leads, on which the mind re" 
 
 -|| 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 25 
 
 With peculiar fitisfaction. Till once our opinions are 
 in iome degree fixed with refpect to it, we abandon 
 ourfelv^es, with relu<5lance, to particular fcientific in- 
 veftigations ; and on the other hand, 2^ general 
 knowledge of fuch of its principles as are moil fitted 
 to excite the curiofity, not only prepares us for en- 
 gaging in other purfuits with more liberal and com- 
 prehenfive views, but leaves us at liberty to profe- 
 cute them with a more undivided and concentrated 
 attention.. 
 
 It is not, however, mer ly as a fubjed of fpecula- 
 tive curiofity, that the principles of the human mind 
 deferve a careful examination. The advantages to 
 be expected from a fuccelsful analyfis of it are vari- 
 ous ; and fome of them of fuch importance, as to 
 render it aftonifhing, that, amidft all the fuccefs with 
 which the fubordinate fciences have been cultivated, 
 this, which comprehends the principles of all of them, 
 fhould be Hill fuifered to remain ir its infancy. 
 
 I (hall endeavor to illuftrate a few of thefe advan- 
 tages, beginning with what appears to me to be the 
 moft important of any ; the light, which a philofophi- 
 cal analyfis of the principles of the mind would lie- 
 ceflarily throw, on the lubjects of intellectual and 
 moral education. 
 
 rhe moft effential obje(51:s of education are the two 
 following : Firit, to cultivate all the various princi- 
 ples of our nature, both fpeculative and active, in 
 fuch a manner as to bring them to the greateft per- 
 fection of which they are fufceptible ; and. Secondly, 
 by w.atching over the impreflions and alTociations 
 which the mind receives in early life, to fecure it 
 againft the influence of prevailing errors ; and, as 
 far as poifible, to engage its prepofleflions on the fide 
 of truth. It is only upon a philofophical analyfis of 
 the mind, that a fyftematicd plan can be founded, 
 for the accompliihment of either of thefe purpofcs. 
 
 There are few individuals, whufe education has 
 D 
 
2& ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 been conduci:ed in every refpe(^ with attention and 
 judgment. Almoft every man of refleclion is con- 
 fcious, when he arrives at maturity, of many defects 
 in his mental powers ; and of many inconvenient 
 habits, which might have been prevented or reme- 
 died in his infancy or youth. Such a confcioufnefk 
 is the firft flep towards improvement ; and the per- 
 fon who feels it, if he is pojDTeffed of refoiution and 
 fteadinefe, will not fcruple to begin, even in advan- 
 ced years, a new courfe of education for himfelf. 
 The degree of reflection and obfervation, indeed, 
 which is necefTiry for this purpofe, cannot be expect- 
 ed from any one at a very early period of life, as 
 thefe are the loft powers of the mind which unfold 
 themfelves ; but it is never too late to think of the 
 improvement of our faculties ; and much progrefs 
 may be made, in the art of applying them fuccelsful- 
 ly to their proper objeds, or in obviating the in- 
 conveniencies refulting from their imperfe^ion, not 
 only in manhood, but in old age. 
 
 It is not, however, to the millakes of our early in. 
 llrud ors, that all our intellectual defects are to be 
 afcribed. There is no profeflion or purfuit which 
 has not habits peculiar to itfelf ; and which does not 
 leave fome powers of the mind dormant, while it 
 exercifes and improves the reft. If we wifti, there- 
 fore, to cultivate the mind to the extent of its capaci- 
 ty, we muft not reft fatisfied with that employment 
 which its faculties receive from our particular fitua- 
 tion in life. It is not in the awkward and profefli >n- 
 al fv)rm of a mechanic, who has ftrengthened partic- 
 ular mufcles of his body by the habits of his trade, 
 that w^e are to look for the perfection of our animal 
 nature : neither is it among men. of confined pur- 
 fuits, whether fpeculative or adive, that we are to 
 ex;)ed to hiid the huinan mind in its higheft ftate of 
 cui rival ion. A variety of exercifes is necefTary to 
 preferve the animal frame in vigour and beauty ; and 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINB. 2Y 
 
 a variety of thofe occupations which literature and 
 fcience afford, added to a promifcuous intercourfe 
 with the world, in the habits of converfation and bu« 
 finefs, is no lefs neceflkry for the improvement of the 
 underftanding. T acknowledge, that there are fome 
 profeffions, in which a man of very confined acqui- 
 iitions may arrive at the firlf eminence ; and in 
 which he will perhaps be the more likely to excel, 
 the more he has coiicentrated the whole force of his 
 mind to one particular objed. But fuch a perfon, 
 however diftinguiihed in his own fphere, is educated 
 merely to be a literary artifan ; and neither attains 
 theperfedioUjUor the happinefs of his nature. "That 
 " education only can be confidered as complete and 
 " generous, which" (in the language of Milton ) " fits 
 *' a man to perform juftly, fkilfully, and magnanim- 
 " oully, all the offices, both private and public, of 
 " peac^, and of war*." 
 
 I hope it will not be fuppofed, from the foregoing 
 obfervations, that they are meant to recommend an 
 indiscriminate attention to all the objects of fpecula- 
 tion and of a(!lion. Nothing can be more evident, 
 than the neceffity of limiting the field of our exertion, 
 if we wifti to benefit fociety by our labours. But it 
 is perfectly ccnfiftent with the moft intenfe applica^ 
 tion to our favourite purfuit, to cultivate that gen- 
 eral acquaintance with letters and with the world, 
 which may be fufficient to enlarge the mind, and to 
 preferve it from any danger of contracting the pe- 
 dantry of a particular profeflion. In many cafes, 
 (as was already remarked,) the fciences refled light 
 on each other ; and the general acquifitions which 
 we have made in other purfuits, may furnifh us with 
 ufeful helps for the farther profecution of our own. 
 But even in thofe inflances in which the cafe is oth- 
 erwife, and in which thefe liberal accomplilhments 
 mud be purchafed by the facrifice of a part of our 
 * Tractate of Education, 
 
28 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 profeffional eminence, the acquiTition of them will 
 amply repay any lofs we may luUain. It ought not' 
 to be the leading object: of any one, to become an emi- 
 nent metaphyfician, mathematician, or poet ; but to 
 render himfelf happy as an individual, and an agree- 
 able, a refped:able, and an ufeful niember of fociety- 
 A man who lofes his light, improves the fenf^biiity 
 of his touch ; but who would confent, for fuch a re- 
 compence, to part with the pleafiues which he receives 
 from the eye ? 
 
 It is almoft unnecelTary for me to remark, how 
 much individuals would be afTifted in the proper and 
 liberal culture of the mind, if they were previoufly 
 led to take a comprehenfive furvey of human nature 
 in all its parts ; of its various faculties, and powers and 
 fources of enjoyment; andof the eifeds which are pro- 
 duced on thefe principles by particular fituations. It is 
 fuch a knowledge alone of the capacities of the mind, 
 that can enable a perfon to judge of his own acqui- 
 fitions ; and to en^ploy the moft effeduai means for 
 fupj3lying his defects, and removing l^s inconvenient 
 habits. Without fome degree of it, every man is in 
 danger of coptracling bad habits, before he is aware ; 
 and of fuffering fome of his powers to go to decay, 
 for want of proper exercife. 
 
 If the bufmefs of early educatic^n were more tho- 
 roughly, and more generally, underllood, it would 
 be lefs necefi'ary for individuals, when they arrive at 
 maturity, to form plans of improvenient for them- 
 felves. But education never can be iyilerriatically 
 directed to its proper objects, till we have obtained, 
 not only an accurate analylis of the general princi- 
 ples of our nature, and an account ot the moft im- 
 portant laws which regulate their operation ; but an 
 explanation of the various modifications and combi- 
 nati(^ns of thefe principles, which produce that di- 
 verfity of talents, genius, and cl^ar^cter, we obferve 
 among men. To inibuct youth in the languages. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 20 
 
 and in the fciences, is comp iratively of little impor- 
 tance, it we are inattentive to the habits tliey ac- 
 quire ; and are not careful in giving, to all their 
 different faculties, and ail their different principles of 
 adion, a proper degree of emplo) ment. Abftnct- 
 ing entirely from the culture of their moral povi^ers, 
 ho\^ extenfive and difficult is the bufinefs of con- 
 dueling their intelledfual improvement ! I'o watch 
 over the .ifTociations which they form in their ten- 
 der years ; to give them early habits of n ental activ- 
 ity ; to roufe their curiofity, and to direct it to prop- 
 er objects ; to exercife their ingenuity and inven- 
 tion ; to cultivate in their minds a turn for fpecula- 
 tion, and at the fame time prelerve their attention 
 alive to the objects around them ; to awaken their 
 fenfibilities to the beauties (»f nature, and to infpire 
 them with a relifti for intellectual enjoyment ; thefe 
 form but a part of the bufinefs of education ; and 
 yet the execution even of this part requires an ac- 
 quaintance with the general principles ot our nature, 
 which feldom falls to the fhare of thofe to whom 
 the inftru^lion of youth is commonly intrufted. — 
 Nor will fuch a theoretical knowledge of the hunum 
 mind, as I have now defcribed, be always fufficient 
 in prad:ice. An uncommon degree of fagacity is 
 frequently requifite, in order to accommodate gene- 
 ral rules to particular tempers, and characters. — In 
 whatever way we chufe to account for it, whether 
 by original organization, or by the operation of mor- 
 al caufes, in very early infancy ; no fact can be more 
 undeniable, than that there are important differences 
 difcernible in the minds of children, previous t(^ that 
 period at which, in general, t eir intellectual educa- 
 tion commences. There is, too, a certain heredita- 
 ry chara(5ter (whether refulting from phyiical con- 
 {titution, or caught from imitation and the influence 
 of fituation.) which appears remarkably inpn-ticiilar 
 families. One race, for a fucceffiun ot generations. 
 
so ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPY 
 
 is diftinguifhed by a genius for the abftra6l: fciences, 
 while it is deficient in vivacity, in imagination, and 
 in rafte : another is no lefs diftinguifhed for wit, 
 and gaiety, and fancy ; while it appears incapable of 
 patient attention, or of profound refearch. The 
 fyftem of education which is proper to be adopted 
 in particu ar cafes, ought, undoubtedly, to have fome 
 reference to thefe circumftances ; and to be calcula- 
 ted, as much as poffible, to develope and to cherifli 
 f^ thofe intelUclual and active principles, in which a 
 natural deficiency is moft to be apprehended. Mon- 
 tefquieu, and other fpeculative politicians, have in- 
 fifted much on the reference which education and 
 laws fhould have to climate. I fhall not take upon 
 me to fay, how far their conclufions on this fubje^b 
 are juft ; but I am fully perluaded, that there is a 
 foundation in philofophy, and good fenfe, for ac- 
 commodating, at a very early period of life, the ed- 
 ucation of individuals to thofe particular turns of 
 mind, to which, from hereditary propenfities, or 
 from moral fituation, they may be prefumed to have 
 a natural tendency. 
 
 There are few fubje<^s more hackneyed than that 
 of education ; and yet there is none, upon which the 
 opinions of the world are ftill more divided. Nor 
 is this furprifing ; for moft of thofe who have fpec- 
 ulated concerning it, have confined their attention 
 chiefly to incidental queftions about the compara- 
 tive advantages of public or private inftruclion, or 
 the utility of particular languages or fciences ; with- 
 out attempting a previous examination of thofe fac- 
 ulties and principles of the mind, which it is the 
 great object of education to improve. Many excel- 
 lent detached obfervations, indeed, both on the in- 
 telledlual 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 analyfe and iliuftr^te the principles of 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND^ 31 
 
 human nature, in order to lay a philofophical foun- 
 dation for their proper culture. 
 
 I have even heard fome very ingenious and in- 
 telligent men difpute the propriety of fo fyftematical 
 a plan of inftru<5i:ion. The moft fuccefstul and 
 fplendid exertions, both in the fciences and arts, (it 
 has been frequently remarked,) have been made by 
 individuals, in whofe minds the feeds cf genius were 
 allowed to ftioot up, wild and free ; while, from 
 the moft careful and Ikilful tuition, feldom any 
 thing refults above mediocrity. I (hall not, at pref- 
 ent, enter into any difcuflions with refpe^l to the 
 certainty of the fad: on which this opinion is found- 
 ed. Suppofing the facl to be completely eftablifhed, 
 it muft ftill be remembered, that originality of gen- 
 ius does not always imply vigor and comprehenlive- 
 nefs, and liberality of mind ; and that it is defirable 
 only, in fo far as it is compatible with thele more 
 valuable qualities. I already hinted, that there are 
 fome purfuits,in which, as they require the exertion 
 only of a fmall number of our faculties, an individu- 
 al, who has a natural turn for them, will be more 
 likely to diftinguifh himfelf, by being fufFered to fol- 
 low his original bias, than if his attention were dif; 
 traded by a more liberal courfe of iludy. But 
 wherever fuch men are to be found, they muft be 
 conlidered, on the moft favorable fuppofition, as 
 having facrificed, to a certain degree, the perfe<^- 
 ion and the happinefs of their nature, to the aniufe- 
 ment or inftrudion of others. It is too, in times of 
 general darknefs and barbarifm, that wliat is com- 
 monly called originality of genius moft frequently 
 appears : and furely the great aim of an enlighten- 
 ed and benevolent philofophy, is not to rear a fmall 
 number of individuals, who may be regarded a^ 
 prodigies in an ignorant and admiring age, but to 
 diffufe, as widely as poflible, that degree of cuhiva- 
 tion which may enable the bulk of a people to pof- 
 
3-2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fefs all the intelledual and moral improvement ot 
 which their nature is fuTceptible. " Original gen- 
 ius" (»ays Voltaire) " occurs but feldom in a nation 
 *' where the literary tafte is formed. The number 
 *' of cultivated minds which there abound, like the 
 " trees in a thick and flourifhing foreft, prevent any 
 " fmgie individual from rearing his head far above the 
 *' reft. Where trade is in few hands, we meet with 
 " a fmall number of ovrer-grown fortunes in the 
 <' midft of a general poverty : in proportion as it 
 " extends, opulence becomes general, and great for- 
 " tunes rare. It is, precifely, becaufe there is at 
 " prefent much light, and much cultivation, in 
 " France, that we are led to complain of the want 
 *' of fuperior genius." 
 
 To what purpofe, indeed, it may be faid, all this 
 labor ? Is not the importance of every thing to man, 
 to be ultiniately eftimated by its tendency to pro- 
 mote his happinefs ? And is not our daily experi- 
 ence fufEcient to convince us, that this is^ in geiier- 
 al, by no means proportioned to the culture which 
 his nature has received ? — Nay, is there not fome 
 ground for fufpedling, thai the lower orders of men 
 enjoy, on the wht)ie, a more enviable condition, 
 than their more enlightened and refined fuperiors ? 
 
 The truth, 1 apprehend, is, that happinefs, in fo 
 far as it arifes from the mind itfelf, will be always 
 proportioned to the degree of perfection which its 
 powers have attained ; but that, in cultivating thefe 
 powers, with a view to this mofl important of all 
 objects, it is effentially neceffary that fiich a degree 
 of attention be beftowed on all of them, as may pre- 
 ferve them in that ftate of relative ftrength, which 
 appears to be agreeable to the intentions of nature. 
 In confequence of an exclufive attention to the cul- 
 ture of the imaginition, the tafte, therealoning fac- 
 ulty, or any of the active principles, it is poflible that 
 the pleafures of human life may be diminiihed, or 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 33 
 
 its pains increafed ; but the inconvenienees which 
 are experienced in fuch cafes, are not to be alcribed 
 to education, but to a partial and injudicious educa- 
 tion. In fuch cafes, it is poflible, that the poet, the 
 metaphyfician, or the man of tafte and refinement, 
 may appear to difadvantage, when comf)ared with 
 the vulgar ; for fuch is the benevolent appointn^ent 
 of Providence with refpect to the lower orders, that 
 although not one principle of their nature be com- 
 pletely unfolded, the whole of thefe principles pre- 
 ferve among themfelves, that balance which is fa- 
 vorable to the tranquillity of their minds and to a 
 prudent and fteady conduct in the limited Iphere 
 which is afligned to them, far more completely, than' 
 in thofe of th«ir fuperiors, whofe education has be4?n 
 conduced on an erroneous or imperfedl fyttem : but 
 all this, far from weakening the force ot the forego- 
 ing obfervations, only ferves to denionftrate how 
 impoflible it always uill be, to form a rational plan 
 for the improvement of the mind, without an accu- 
 rate and comprehenfive knowledge ot the principles 
 of the human conllitution. 
 
 "(he remarks which have been already made, are 
 fufficient to illuftrate the dangerous conlequences 
 which are likely to refult from a partial and injutii- 
 cious cultivation of the mind ; and, at the fame time, 
 to point out the utility of the intelledual philofophy, 
 in enabling us to preferve a proper balance among 
 all its various faculties, principles of action, and ca- 
 pacities of enjoyment. Many additional obfierva- 
 tions might be offered, on the tendency which an 
 accurate analyfis of its powers n ight probably have, 
 to fuggeft rules for their farther improvement, and 
 for a more fuccefsful application of them to their 
 proper purpofes : but this fubjed I (hall not prole- 
 cute at prefent, as the illuftration of it is one of the 
 leading obje(51:s of the following work. — Ihat tiie 
 memory, the imaginaiion, or tne reaionig fatuity, 
 E 
 
34f ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 are to be inftantly ftrengthened in confequence of 
 our fpeculations concerning their nature, it would 
 be abfurd to fuppofe ; but it is furely far from be- 
 ing unreafonable to think, that an acquaintance with 
 the laws which regulate thefe powers, may fuggeil 
 some ufeful rules for their gradual cultivation ; for 
 remedying their defects, in the cafe of individuals, 
 and even for extending thofe limits, which nature 
 feems, at firft view, to have ailigned them. 
 
 To how great a degree of perfection the intellect- 
 ual and moral nature of man is capable of being 
 raifed by cultivation, it is difficult to conceive. The 
 effects of early, continued, and fyftematical educa- 
 tion, in the cafe of thofe children who are trained, 
 for. the fake of gain, to feats of ftrength and agility, 
 juftify, perhaps, the moft fanguine views which it is 
 poffible for a philofopher to form, with refped to 
 the improvement of the fpecies. 
 
 I now proceed to confider, how far the philofo- 
 phy of mind may be ufeful in accomplifliing the fec- 
 ond object of education ; by afliiting us in the man- 
 agement of early imprelfions and afibciations. 
 
 By far the greater part of the opinions on which 
 we act in life, are not the refult of our own invefti- 
 gations ; but are adopted implicitly, in infancy 
 and youth, upon the authority of others. Even 
 the great principles of morality, although implant- 
 ed in every heart, are commonly aided and cher- 
 ifhed, at leaft to a certain degree, by the care of 
 our inftru6tors. — All this is undoubtedly agreea- 
 ble to the intentions of nature ; and, indeed, were 
 the cafe other wife, fociety could not fubfift ; for 
 nothing can be more evident, than that the bulk of 
 mankind, condemned as they are to laborious oc- 
 cupations, which are incon patible with intelledu- 
 al improvement, are perfectly incapable of foruiing 
 their own opinions on fonie of the molt imp(irtant 
 fubjeds that CJWi employ the human mind. It is ev- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. «J 
 
 ident, at the fame time, that as no fyftem of educa- 
 tion is perfect, a variety of prejudices muft in this 
 way, take an early hold of our belief ; fo as to acquire 
 over it an influence not inferior to that of the moft 
 incontrovertible truths. When a child hears, either 
 a fpeculative abfurdity, or an erroneous principle of 
 action, recommended and enforced daily, by the fame 
 voice vi^hich firft conveyed to it thofe fimple and fub- 
 lime leiTons of morality and religion which are con- 
 genial to its nature, is it to be wondered at, that, in 
 future life, it ihould find it fo difficult to eradicate 
 prejudices which have twined their roots with all 
 the effential principles of the hum/an frame ? — If fuch, 
 however, be the obvious intentions of nature, with 
 refped to thofe orders of men who are employed in 
 bodily labor, it is equally clear, that (he meant to im- 
 pofe it as a double oblig^ition on thofe who receive the 
 advantages of a liberal education, to examine, with 
 the moft fcrupulous care, the foundation of all thofe 
 received opinions, which have any connexion with 
 morality, or with human happinefs. If the multi- 
 tude muft; be led, it is of confequence, furely, that it 
 fliould be led by enlightened conductors ; by men 
 who are able to diftinguifh truth from error ; and 
 tf'i draw the line between thofe prejudices which are 
 innocent or falutary, (if indeed there are any preju- 
 dices which are really falutary,) and thofe which are 
 hoftile to the interells of virtue and of mankind. 
 
 In fuch a flate of fociety as that in which we live, 
 the prejudices of a moral, a political, and a religious 
 nature, which we imbibe in early life, are fo various,, 
 and at the fam.e time fo intimately blended with the 
 belief we entertain of the mofl facred and important 
 truths, that a great part of the life of a philofopher 
 mufl neceffirily be devoted, not fo much to the ac- 
 quifition of new knowledge, as to unlearn the er- 
 rors to which he had been taught to give an impli- 
 cit affent, before the d;^wn of reafon and refleclion. 
 
36 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Aiid unlefs he fuSmit in this manner to bring all his 
 opinions to the teft of a fevere examination, his in- 
 genuity, and his learning, instead of enlightening the 
 world, will only en ible him to give an additional 
 currency, and an additional authority, to eftabliihed 
 errors. To attempt fuch a ftruggle againll early 
 prejudices, is, indeed, the profeffed aim of all philof- 
 ophers ; but how few are to be found who have 
 force of mind fufficient for accompliihing their ob- 
 ject ; and who, in freeing themfelves from one let 
 of errors, do not allow themfelves to be carried away 
 with another ? To fucceed in it completely. Lord 
 Bacon feems to have thought, fin one of the moft 
 re-.f'arkable paffages of his writings,) to be more 
 than can well be expelled from human frailty.— 
 " Nemo adhuc tanta mentis conftantia inventus eft, 
 *' ut decreverit, et li i impofuerit, theorias et no- 
 *' tiones communes peuitus abolere, et intelle£lum 
 " abrafum et aequum ad particularia, de integro, ap- 
 *' plicare. Itaque ilia ratio humana, qiiam habemus, 
 " ex multa fide, et multo etiam caiii, nee non ex 
 " puerilibus, quas primo haufimus, notionibus, far- 
 " rago qusedam eft, et congeries. Quod fiquis, aetate 
 '' matura, et fenfibus integris, et mente repurgata, 
 " fe ad experientiam, et ad particularia deitegro ap. 
 " plicet, de eo melius fperaudum eft.*' 
 
 Nor is it merely in order to free the mind from 
 the influence of error, that it is ufeful to examine 
 the foundation of eftabliftied opinions. It is fuch an 
 examination alone, that, in an inquiiitive age like 
 the prefent, ''an fecure a philofopher from the dan- 
 ger of ultimated fcepticifm. To this extreme, in- 
 deed, the complexion of the times is more likely to 
 give him a tendency, than to implicit credulity. In 
 the former ages of ignorance and fuperftition, the 
 intimate aflbciation which had been formed, in the 
 prevailing fyftems of education, between truth and 
 error, had given to the latter an afcendant over the. 
 
OF THE H'-^MAN MIND. S? 
 
 minds of men, which it could never have acquired, 
 if divefted of fuch an alliance. The cafe has, of late 
 years, been moft remarkably reverfed : the common 
 fenfe of mankind, in confequence of the growth of a 
 more liberal fpirit of inquiry, has revolted againft ma- 
 ny '>f thofe abfurdities, which had fo long held human 
 reafon in captivity ; and it was, f>erhaps, more than 
 could reafonably have been expected, that, in the firft 
 m< ^ments of their emancipation, philofophers fhould 
 have flopped ihort, at the precife boundary, which 
 C) :er refleclion, and more moderate views, would 
 h r/e prefcribed. The fact is, that they have pafTed 
 far beyond it ; and that, in their zeal to deftroy preju- 
 dices, they have attempted to tear up by the roots, 
 niany of ♦^he bed and happleftand moft elTential princi- 
 ples of our nature. Having remarked the powerful 
 influence of education over the mind, they have con- 
 cluded, that man is wholly a factitious being ; not re- 
 collecting, that this very fufceptibility of education 
 preiiippofes certain original principles, which are com- 
 mon to the whole fpecies ; and that, as error can only 
 take a permanent hold of a candid mind by being 
 graf t^ed on truths, which it is unwilling or unable to 
 eradicate ; even the influence, which falfe and abfurd 
 opinions occalionally acquire over the belief, inftead 
 of being an argument for univerfal fcepticifm, is the 
 moft decifive argument* againft it ; inafmuch as it 
 fliews, that there are fome truths fo incorporated 
 and identified with our nature, that they can recon- 
 cile us even to the abfurdities and contradictions with 
 which we fuppofe them to be infeparably connected. 
 The fceptical philofophers, for example, of the pres- 
 ent age, have frequently attempted to hold up to rid- 
 icule, thofe contemptible and puerile fuperftitions, 
 which havje difgraced the creeds of fome of the moft 
 enlightened nations ; and which have not only com- 
 manded the aflent, but the reverence, of men of the 
 moft accompiiflied underftandings. But thefe his- 
 
38 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tories of human imbecility are, in truth, the (Irong- 
 ^ft teftimonies 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 fanclify, in the apprehenfions of mankind, 
 every extravagant opinion, and every unmeaning 
 ceremony, which early education has taught us to 
 affociate with them. 
 
 I hat implicit credulity is a mark of a feeble mind, 
 will not be difputed ; but it may not, perhaps, be 
 as generally acknowledged, that the cafe is the fame 
 with unlimited fcepticifm : on the contrary, we are 
 •fometimes apt to afcribe this difpofition to a more 
 than ordinary vigor of intellect. Such a prejudice 
 w^as by no means unnatural at that period in the 
 hiftory of modern Europe, when reafon firft began 
 to throw off the yoke of authority ; and when it 
 unqueftionably required a fuperiority of underftand- 
 ing, as well as of intrepidity, for an individual to re- 
 iid the contagion of prevailing fuperilition. But in 
 the prefent age, in which the tendency of falhiona- 
 ble opinions is dire6lly oppofite to thofe of the vul- 
 gar ; the philofophical creed, or the philofophical 
 fcepticifm of by far the greater number of thi)fe who 
 value themfelves on an emancipation from popular 
 errors, arifes from the very fame weaknefs with the 
 credulity of the multitude "^ nor is it going too far 
 to fay, with Roufleau, that " He, who, in the end 
 ^^ of the eighteenth century, has brought himfelf to 
 " abandon all his early principles without difcrimina- 
 ^' tion, would probably have been a bigot in the 
 '' days of the League." In the midft of thefe con- 
 trary impulfes, of fafhionable and of vulgar prejudi- 
 ces, he alone evinces the fuperiority and the ilrength 
 of his mind, who is able to difentangle truth from 
 error ; and to oppofe the clear conclulions of his 
 own unbiafled faculties, to the united clamours of 
 fuperflition, and of talfe philofophy. — Such are the 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 39 
 
 men, whom nature marks out to be the lights of the 
 world ; to fix the wavering opinions of the multi- 
 tude, and to imprefs their own characters on that of 
 their age. 
 
 For fecuring the mind completely from the weak- 
 nefles I have now been defcribing and enabling it to 
 maintain a fteady courfe of inquiry, between inipiicit 
 credulity, and unlimited fcepticifm, the moil impor- 
 tant of all qualities is a iincere and devoted attach- 
 ment to truth ; which feldom fails to be accompani- 
 ed with a manly confidence in the clear conclufions 
 of human reafon. It is fuch a confidence, united, 
 (as it generally is) with perfonal intrepidity, which 
 forms what the French writers call force of character; 
 one of the rareft endowments, it muft be confefled, 
 of our fpecies ; but which, of all endowments, is the 
 moft effential for rendering a philofopher happy in 
 himfelf, and a bleffing to mankind. 
 
 There is, I think, good reafon for hoping, that 
 the fceptical tendency of the prefent age, will be only 
 a temporary evil. While it continues, however, it 
 is an evil of the moft alarming nature ; and, as it ex- 
 tends, in general, not only to religion and morality, 
 but in fome meafure, alfo, to politics, and the conduct 
 of life, it is equally fatal to the comfort of f.he indi- 
 vidual, and to the improvement of fociety. Even 
 in its moft inoffenfive form, when it happens to be 
 united with a peaceable difpofition and a benevolent 
 heart, it cannot fail to have the effect of damping 
 every ad:ive and patriotic exertion. Convinced tiiat 
 truth is placed beyond the reach of human faculties ; 
 and doubtful how far the prejudices we delpife may 
 not be eflential to the well-being of fociety, we re- 
 folve to abandon completely all fpeculative inquiries ; 
 and fuffering ourfelves to be carried quietly ai<aig 
 with the ftream of popular opinions, and ot talliiun- 
 able manners, determine to amufe ourfelves, the Left 
 way we can, with bufinefs or piealure, during our 
 
40 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fliort pafTage through this fcene of illufions. But he 
 who thinks more favourably of the human pow ers, 
 and who believes that reafon was given to man to 
 direft him to his duty and his happinels, will deipife 
 the fuggeftions of this timid philolbphy ; and while 
 he is confcious that he is gui.led in his inquiries only 
 by the love of truth, wih refl affured that their re- 
 fult will be equally favourable, to his own comfort, 
 and to the beft intereft of mankind. What, indeed, 
 will be the particular effects in the firft inftance, of 
 that general difFufion of knowledge, which the art 
 of printing muft fooner or later produce ; and of 
 that fpirit of reformation with which it cannot tail 
 to be accompanied, it is beyond the reach of human 
 fagacity to conjedure ; but unlefs we chufe to aban- 
 don ourfelves entirely to a defponding fcepticilm, 
 we muft hope and believe, that the progrefs of hu- 
 man reafon can never be a fource of permanent dis- 
 order to the world ; and that they alone have caufe 
 to apprehend the confequences, who are led, by the 
 imperfedion of our preient inftitutions, to feel them- 
 felves interefled in perpetuating the prejudices, and 
 follies, of their fpecies. 
 
 From the obfervations which have been made, it 
 fufficiently appears, that in order to fecure the mind 
 on the one hand, from the influence of prejudice ; 
 and on the other, from a tendency to unlimited 
 fcepticifm ; it is necefTary that it fliould be able to 
 diftinguilh the original and univerfal principles and 
 laws of human nature, from the adventitious effeds 
 of local fituation. But if, in the cafe of an individ- 
 ual, who has received an imperfect or erroneous ed- 
 ucation, fuch a knowledge puts it in his power to 
 corred, to a certain degree, his own bad habits, and 
 to furmount his owm ipeculative errors ; it enables 
 him to be ufeful, in a mugli higher degree, to thofe 
 whofa education he has an opportunity of fuperinr 
 tending from early infancy. Such, and fo perma- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 41 
 
 nent, is the efFe<^ of firft impreflions, on the charr»6ler, 
 that although a phiiofbpher may fucceed, by perfe-^ 
 verance, in freeing his reafon from the prejudices 
 with which he was entangled, they will ftil] retain 
 fome hold of his imagination, and his afFeclions : and, 
 therefore, however enlightened his underftanding 
 may be in his hours of fpeculation, his philofophical 
 opinions will frequently lofe their influence over his 
 mi?.d, in thofe very fuuations in v^hich their pradli- 
 cal afliftance is moil required ; — when his temper is 
 foured by misfortune ; or W'hen he engages in the 
 pur'uits of life, and expofes himfelf to the contagion 
 of popular errors. His opinions are fupported mere- 
 ly by fpeculative arguments ; and, inllead of being 
 conneded with any of the active principles of his na- 
 ture, are counteraAed and thwarted by fome of the 
 mod powerful of them. How different would the 
 cafe be, if education were conducted, from the begin- 
 ning, with attention and judgment ? Were the fame 
 pains taken, to imprefs truth on the mind in early 
 infancy, that is often taken to inculcate error, the 
 great principles of our conduct would not only be 
 jufter than they are ; but, in confequence of the aid 
 which they would receive from the imagination and 
 the heart, trained to confpire with them in the fame 
 direction, they wouid render uc. happier in ourfelves, 
 and would influence our pradice more powerfully 
 and more habitually. There is furely nothing in 
 error, which is more congenial to the mind than 
 truth. On the contrary, when exhibited feparately 
 and alone to the underftanding, it fliocks our reafon, 
 and provokes our ridicule ; and it is only, (as I had 
 occafion already to remark,) by an alliance with 
 truths, which we find it difiicult to renounce, that 
 it can obtain our aflent, or command our reverence. 
 What advantages, then, might be derived from a 
 proper attention to early imprefTions and aff ciations, 
 in giving fupport to thofe principles which are con- 
 F 
 
42 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 i>e6led with human happiriefs ? The long reign of 
 error in the world, and the influence it maintains, 
 even in an age of liberal inquiry ; far from being 
 favourable to the fuppofition, that human renfon is 
 deftined to be for ever the fport of prejudice and 
 abfurdity, demonftrates the tendency which there is 
 to permanence in eflabhflied opinions, and in eftab- 
 lifhed inftitutions ; and promifes an eternal liability 
 to true philofophy, when it fliall once have acquired 
 the afcendant ; and when proper means fhall be em- 
 ployed to fupport it, by a more perfed: fyftem of 
 education. 
 
 Let us fuppofe, for a moment, that this happy asra 
 were arrived, and that all the prepofTefllons of child- 
 hood and youth were directed to fupport the pure 
 and fublime truths of an enliglitened morality. — 
 "With what ardour, and with what tranfport, would 
 the underftanding, when arrived at maturity, pro- 
 ceed in the fearch of truth ; when, inftead of being 
 obliged to ftruggle, at every ftep, with early preju- 
 dices, its office was merely to add the force of philo- 
 fophical conviclion, to impreflions, which are equally 
 delightful to the imagination, and dear to the heart ! 
 The prepofieflions of childhood would, through the 
 whole of life, be gradually acquiring ftrength from 
 the enlargement of our knowledge ; and, in their 
 turn, would fortify the conclufions of our realon, 
 againft the fceptical fuggeflions of difappointment or 
 melar^choly. 
 
 Our daily experience may convince us, how fus- 
 CQptible the tender mind is of deep impreilions ; and 
 what important and permanent effects are produced 
 on the characters, and the happinefs of individuals, 
 by the cafual aflociations formed in childhood among 
 the various ideas, feelings, and affections, with which 
 they were habitually occupied. It is the bufinefs of 
 education not to countcrad this conflitution of na- 
 ture, but-to give it a proper direction : and the mifer 
 
OF THB HUMAN MIND. ^ 4G 
 
 Able confequences to whicli it leads, when under an 
 improper regulation, only flievv, what an important 
 inilrument of human improvement it might be ren- 
 dered, in more Ikiltul hands. If it be poflible to in« 
 tereft the imagination and the heart in favor of error, 
 it is, at leaft, no lefs poiTible to intereil them in favor 
 of truth. If it be poflible to ^xtinguifti all the moft 
 generous and heroic feelings of our nature, by teach- 
 ini^ us to conned the idea of them with thofe of 
 guilt and impiety ; it is furely equally poflible to 
 cherifh and ftrerigthen them, by eftablifliing the na- 
 tural alliance between our duty and our happinefs. 
 If it be poflible for the influence of fafhion to veil the 
 native deformity of vice, and to give to low and 
 criminal indulgences the appearance of fpirit, of ele- 
 gance, and pf gaiety ; can we doubt of the poflibility 
 of connecting, in the tender mind, thefe pleafing aa- 
 fociationSy with purluits that are truly worthy and 
 honorable ? — There are few men to be found, among 
 thgfe who have received the advantages of a liberal 
 education, who do not retain, through life, that ad- 
 miration of the heroic ages of Greece nnd Rome, 
 with v/hich the clafllcal authors once infpired them. 
 It is, in truth, a fortunate prcpoflefllon, on the whole, 
 and one, of which 1 fliould be forry to counteracb the 
 influence. But are there not others of equal impor- 
 tance to morality and to happinefs, with which the 
 mind might, at the fame period of life, be infpired ? 
 If the firil conceptions, for example, which an infant 
 formed of the Deity, and its flrll moral perceptions, 
 were afl(iciated with the early impreffions produced 
 on the heart by the beauties of nature, or the charms 
 of poetical defcription, thofe ferious tlioughts which 
 are reforted to, by moil men, merely as a fource of 
 confolation in adverfity ; and which, on that very 
 account, are frequently tinctured with fome degree 
 of gloom, would recur fpontaneoufly to the mind, 
 in its beif and happietl hours ; and would infenflbly 
 
4'4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 blend themfelves with all its pureft and moft refined 
 enjoyments. 
 
 In thofe parts of Europe, where the prevailing opin- 
 ions involve the greateft variety of errors and cor- 
 ruptions, it is, I believe, a common idea wiih niany 
 refpeclable and enlightened men, that, in every coun- 
 try, it is moft prudent to coi:ducl the religious in- 
 ftrudion of youth up'>n the plan which is preicribed 
 by the national eftabiifhment ; in order that the pu- 
 pil, according to the vigour or feeblenefs of iiis 
 mind, may either Ihake off, in future life, the preju- 
 dices of the nurfery, or die in the popular perlu.ifion. 
 This idea, I own, appears to me to be equally iii t( un- 
 ded and dangenms. If religious opinions have, as 
 will not be difputed, a powerful influence on the hap- 
 pinefs, and on the conducl of mankind, does not hu- 
 manity require of us, to refcue as many viclin-s as 
 pofli >le from the hands of bigotry ; and to lave them 
 from the cruel alternative, of remaining under the 
 gloom of adeprelling fuper{tition,or of being oifti jd:- 
 ed by a perpetual conflict between the heart and the 
 underftanding ? — It is an enlightened education alone, 
 that, in moft countries of Europe, can fave the young 
 philofopher from that anxiety and defpondence, 
 which every man of fenlibility, who, in his childhood, 
 has imbibed the popular opinions, mull necefl?rily 
 experience, when he hrft begins to exan ine their 
 foundation ; and, what is of itiil greater in pc^rtance, 
 which can fave him, during life, from that ( ccaiion- 
 al fcepticifm, to which all men are liable, whofe Sys- 
 tems fluctuate with the inequalities of their ipirits, 
 and the variations of the atmofphere. 
 
 I Ihall conclude this fuljecl, with remarking, that, 
 although in all moral and religious f)ftems, there is 
 a great mixture of important truth ; and although 
 it is, in confequence of this alliance, that errors and 
 abfurdities are enabled to preferve their hold ( f ^he 
 belief, yet it is commonly found, that, in propurtioa 
 
t)F THE HUMAN MIND, 45 
 
 as an eflablifhed creed is complicated in its dogmas 
 and in its ceremonies, and in proportitn to the num- 
 ber of acceffory ideas which it has grafted upm^ the 
 truth, the more difficult is it, for thofe who have 
 adopted it in childhood, to emancipate themfclves 
 completely from its influence ; and, in ihofe caiesin 
 which they at laft fucceed, the greater is their dan- 
 ger of abandoning, along with their errors, all the 
 truths which they had been taught to connefl with 
 them. The Roman Catholic fyftem is fhaken off 
 with much greater diffijulty, than thofe which are 
 taught in the reformed churches ; but when it lofes 
 its hold of the mind, it much m.ore frequently pre- 
 pares the way for unlimited fcepticiim. Ihecau- 
 fes of this I may perhaps have an opportunity ot plant- 
 ing out, in treating of the affociation of ideas. 
 
 I have now finifhed all that I think neceflary to 
 offer, at prefeht, on the application of the philofd. 
 phy of mind to the fubjed: ot education. To fbme 
 readers, I am afraid, that what I have advanced on the 
 fubjecl, will appear to border upon enthu afn ; and 
 I will not aitempt to juftify myfelf againft the charge. 
 I am well aware of the tendency, which fpeculaiive 
 men fometimes have, to magnify the cfTecls of edu- 
 cation, as well as to entertain too fanguine vie^- s of 
 the improvement of the world ; and I am ready to 
 acknowledge, that there are inflances of individuals, 
 whofe vigor of mind is fufficient to overcome every 
 thing that is pernicious in their early habits : but I 
 am fully perfuadcd, that thefe inilances are rare ; 
 and that, by far the greater part of mankind con- 
 tinue, through life, to purfue the fame track into 
 which they have been thrown, by the accidental cir- 
 cumflances of fituation, inftrudion, and example. 
 
46 . ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Subject. 
 
 THE remarks which have been hitherto made, on 
 the utility of the philofophy of the human mind, 
 are of a very general nature, and apply equally to all 
 defcriptions of men. Befides, however, thefe more 
 obvious advantages of the fludy, there are others, 
 which, though lefs ftrikiog, and lefs extenfive in 
 their application, are neverthelefs, to fome particular 
 claffes of individuals, of the higheft importance. 
 XVirhout pretending to exhauft the fubje6l, T Ihall 
 off-r a few detached obfervaiions upon it, in this 
 feclion. 
 
 I already took notice, in general terms, of the 
 common relation which all the different branches of 
 our knowledge bear to the philofophy of the human 
 mind. In confequence of this relation, it not only- 
 forms an iiiterefting object of curiofity to literary 
 men of every denomination ; but, if fuccefsfuliy prof- 
 ecuted, it cannot fail to furnifli uleiul lights for di- 
 recling their inquiries ; whatever the nature of the 
 fubje(Ss may be, which happen to engage their at- 
 tention. 
 
 In order to be fatisfied of the juftnefs of this ob- 
 fervation, it is fufBcient to recollect, that to the phi. 
 lofophy of the mind are to be referred, all our in- 
 quiries concerning the divifions and the claiTifica- 
 tions of the objects of human knowledge ; and alfo, 
 all the various rules, both for.the invelligation,and 
 the communication, of truth. Thefe general views 
 of fciepce, and thefe general rules of method, ought 
 to form the fubjeds of a rational and ufeful logic ; a 
 ftudy, undoubtedly, in itfelf of the greatefl impor- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4? 
 
 tance and dignity, but in which lefs progrefs has 
 hitherto been made than is commonly imagined. 
 
 I fliall endeavor to illuftrate, very briefly, a few 
 of the advantages which might be expected to re- 
 fult from fuch a fyflem of logic, if properly execu- 
 ted. 
 
 I. And, in the firft place, it is evident that it would 
 be of the higheft importance in all the fciences, (in 
 fome of them, indeed, much more than in others,) 
 to exhibit a precife and fceady idea of the objects 
 which they prefent to our enquiry. — What was the 
 principal circumftance which contributed to miflead 
 the ancients, in their phylical refearches ? Was it not 
 their confufed and wavering notions about the par- 
 ticular clafs of truths, which it was their bufinefs to 
 inveftigate .? It was owing to this, that they were 
 led to neglect the obvious phenomena and laws of 
 moving bodies ; and to indulge themfelves it con- 
 jedures about the efficient caufes of motion, and the 
 nature of thofe minds, by which they conceived the 
 particles of matter to be animated ; and that they 
 lb often blended the hiftory of facts, with their met* 
 aphyfical fpeculations. In the prefent flate of fci- 
 ence, indeed, we are not liable to fuch roiftakes in 
 natural philofophy ; but it would be difficult to 
 mention any other branch of knowledge, which is 
 entirely exempted from them. In metaphyfics, I 
 might almoft fay, they are at the bottom of ali^ur 
 controverlies. In the celebrated difpute, for exam- 
 ple, which has been lo long carried on, abcmt the 
 explanation given by the ideal theory of the phe- 
 nomena of perception, the wiiole difficulty arofe 
 from this, that philofophers had noprecite notion of 
 he point they wifhed to afcertain ; and now that 
 the controverfy has been brought to a conciufion, 
 (as I think all men of candour muil: confefs it to 
 have been by Dr. Reid) it will be found, that his 
 doctrine on the fubjed throws no light whatever, 
 
48 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 on what was generally underflood to be the great 
 objedl of inquiry ; I mean, on the mode of commu- 
 nication between the mind and the material world : 
 and, in truth, amounts only to a precife defer iption 
 of the facl, (tripped of all hypothefis, and dated iu 
 fuch a manner as to give us a diftincl view of the 
 infurmountable limits which nature has in this in- 
 ftance prefcribed to our curiofity. The fame obfer- 
 vation may be made, on the reaonings of this pro- 
 found and original author, with refped to fome 
 metaphyfical queilions that had been ftarted on the 
 fubjecl of vifion ; in particular, concerning the caufe 
 of our feeing objects fmgle with two eyes, and our 
 feeing objed:s erecl, by means of inverted images on 
 the letina. 
 
 If we were to examine, in like manner, the prefent 
 flate of morals, of jurifprudence, of politics, and of 
 philofophical criticifm ; I believe, we Ihould find, 
 that the principal circumftance which retards their 
 progrefs, is the vague and indiflincl idea, which 
 thoie who apply to the ftudy of them have formed 
 to themfelves of the objects of their refearches. 
 Were thefe objects once clearly defined, and the 
 proper plan of inquiry for attaining them illuftrated 
 by a few unexceptionable models, writers of inferior 
 genius would be enabled to employ their induflry 
 to much more advantage ; and would be prevented 
 from adding to that rubbiih, which, in conlequence 
 of the ill-directed ingenuity of our predecefTors, ob- 
 ftructs our progrefs in the purfuit of truth. 
 
 As a philofophical fyftem of logic would aflift us 
 in our particular fcUntific inveftigations, by keeping 
 lleadily in our view the attainable objects of human 
 curiofity ; fo, by exhibiting to us the relation in 
 which they ail ftand to each other, and the relation 
 which they all bear to what ought to be their com^ 
 liion aim, the advancement of human happinefs, it 
 would have a tendency to confine induilry and gen- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MlND. 49 
 
 ius to inquiries which are of real practical utility ; 
 and would communicate a dignity to the moft fub- 
 ordinate purfuits, which are in any refped fubfervi- 
 ent to fo important a purpofe. When our views 
 are limited to one particular (cience, to which we 
 have been led to devote ourfelves by tafte or by ac- 
 cident, the courfe of our ftudies refembles the prog- 
 refs of a traveller through an unknown country ; 
 whofe wanderings, from place to place, are deter- 
 mined merely by the impuife of occalional curiofity ; 
 and whofe opportunities of information muft necef- 
 farily be limited to the objects which accidentally 
 prefent themfelves to his notice. It is the philofo- 
 phy of the mind alone, which, by furnifhing us with 
 a general map of the field of human knowledge, can 
 enable us to proceed with fteadinefs, and in an ufo- 
 ful direction ; and while it gratifies our curiofity, 
 and animates our exertions, by exhibiting to us all 
 the various bearings of our journey, can condud us 
 to thofe eminences from whence the eye may wan- 
 der over the vaft and unexplored regions of fcience. 
 Lord Bacon was the firft perfon who took this com- 
 prehenfive view of the different departments of flu- 
 dy ; and who pointed out, to all the clafles of litera- 
 ry men, the great end to which their labors fliould 
 confpire ; the multiplication of the fources of human 
 enjoyment, and the extenfion of man's dominion 
 over nature. Had this objed been kept fteadily in 
 view by his followers, their difcoveries, numerous 
 and important as they have been, would have ad- 
 vanced with ftill greater rapidity, and would have 
 had a much more extenfive influence oi? the practic- 
 al arts of life.* 
 
 * Omnium autem gravissimns error in deviatione ab ultimo doc- 
 trinarum fine consistit. nppetunt enim homines scientiara, alii 
 ex insita curiositate et irrequieta ; alii animi causa et delectationis, 
 alii existimationis gratia : alii contentionis ergo, atque ut in disser- 
 endo superiorcs sint : plerique propter lucrum et victum; paocis»i- 
 
 G 
 
so ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 From fuch a fyftem of logic, too, important aflift> 
 ance might be expected, for reforming the eftablifbi- 
 ed plan of public or academical education. It is 
 melancholy to refled: on the manner in which this 
 is carried on, in moll, perhaps, I might {:\y, in all the 
 countries of Europe ; and that in an age of compar- 
 ative light and liberality, the intelledual and moral 
 chara^ers of youth fhould continue to be formed on 
 a plan devifed by men, who were not only Rrangers 
 to the buiinefs of the world, but who felt themfeives 
 interefted in oppofmg the progrefs of ufeful knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 For accomplifhlng a reformation in the plan of ac- 
 ademical ftudy, on rational and fyftematical princi- 
 ples, it is neceffary, in the firfl place, to conlider the 
 velation in which the different branches of literature, 
 and the different arts and fciences, {land to each oth- 
 er, and to the practical purpofes of life : and fecond- 
 ly to conlider them in relation to the human mind, 
 in order to determine the arrangement, bell fitted 
 for unfolding and maturing its faculties. Many val- 
 uable hints towards fuch a work may be collected 
 from Lord Bacon*s writings, 
 
 II. Another very important branch of a rational 
 fyllem of logic (as I had occafion already to obferve) 
 ought to be ; to lay down the rules of invelligation 
 which it is proper to follow in the different fciences. 
 In all of thefe, the faculties of the underflanding are 
 the inftruments with which v/c operate ; and with- 
 out a previous knowledge of their nature, it is im- 
 pollible to employ them to the bell advantage. In 
 every exercife of our reafoning and of our inven- 
 tive powers, there are general laws which regulate 
 the progrefs of the mind ; and when once thefe laws 
 
 xni, ot donuna- rationis, divinitus datura, in usus hiimani generis im- 
 
 pendant. Hoc enira illud est, quod reveradootrinamatqueartes 
 
 oondecorarct, et attolleret, si cotitemplatio, et actio, arctiore quan* 
 adbuc vinculo copularewtur. De Aug. Scient. lib. i. 
 
OF THE HUMAN IvllND, 51 
 
 are afcertained, they enable us to fpeculate and to 
 invent, for the future, with more fyftem, and with 
 a greater certainty of fu'-cefs. — ^In the mechanical 
 arts, it is well known, how much lime and ingenui- 
 ty are mifapplied, by thofe w^ho» acquire their prac- 
 tical fldli, by their own trials, undire&d by the pre- 
 cepts or example of others. What we call the rules of 
 an art, are merely a coUedHon of general obferva- 
 tions, fuggelled by long experience, with refpcd: to 
 the moft compendious and eiFcdual means of perfor- 
 ming every diiFerent ilep of the procefTes which the 
 art involves. In confequence of fuch rules, the ar- 
 tift is enabled to command the fame fuccefs in all his 
 operations, for which the unlkilied w^orkman mufl 
 truft to a happy <:ombination of accidental circum- 
 ftances ; the mifapplications, too, of the labor of one 
 race are faved to the next ; and the acquifition of 
 pra<5tical addrefs is facilitated, by confining its exer- 
 tion to one direction. The analogy is perfect, in 
 
 thofe procefles which are purely inteiiefluai ; ard to 
 regulate which, is the great object of logic. In the 
 cafe of individuals, who have no other guide to di- 
 rect them in their inquiries than their own natural 
 fagacity, much time and ingenuity muil inevitably 
 be thrown away, in every exertion of the inventive 
 powers. In proportion, however, to the degree of 
 their experience and obfervation, the number of 
 thefe mifapplications will diminifli ; and the power 
 of invention will be enabled to proceed with more 
 certainty aiid fteadinefs to its object. The misfor- 
 tune is, that as the aids which the underilanding de- 
 rives irom experience, are feldom recorded in wri- 
 ting, or even defcribed in words, every fucccedirg 
 inquirer finds himfclf, at the commencement of his 
 philofophical purfutts, obliged to ftruggle with the 
 i'ame difadvantages which had retarded the progrefs 
 of his predeceflbrs. If the more important praciic- 
 .dl rules, which habits of invefiigation fuggelt to ixir 
 
52 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 dividuals, were diligently preferved, each generation 
 would be placed in circumftances more favorable 
 to invention than the preceding ; and the progrefs 
 of knowledge, inftead of cramping original geiiius, 
 would affifl. and direct its exertions. In the infancy 
 of literature, indeed, its range may be more un- 
 bounded, and its accidental excuriions may excite 
 more aftonilhment, than in a cultivated and enlight- 
 ened age ; but it is only in fuch an age, that inven- 
 tive genius can be trained by rules founded on the 
 experience of our predeceflbrs, in fuch a manner as 
 to infure the gradual and regular improvement of 
 fcience. So juft is the remark of Lord Bacon ; 
 '^ Certo fciant homines, artes inveniendi folidas et 
 " veras adolefcere et incrementa fumere cum ipfis 
 •^' inventis," 
 
 The analogy between the mechanical arts, and the 
 operations of fcientific invention, might perhaps be 
 carried further. In the former, we know how 
 much the natural powers of man have been allilied, 
 by the ufe of tools and inflruments. Is it not pofli- 
 ble to devife, in like manner, certain aids to our in- 
 telledual faculties ? 
 
 I'hat fuch a query is not altogether chimerical, ap- 
 pears from the wonderful efFe6ls of algebra (which is 
 precifely fuch aninftrument of thought, as I have been 
 now alluding to) in facilitating the inquiries of mod- 
 ern mathematicians. Whether it might not be pof- 
 fible to realife a projecl which Leibnitz has fome- 
 wherc mentioned, of introducing a fimilar contri- 
 vance into other branches of knowledge, I fliall not 
 take upon me to determine ; but that this idea has at 
 leati feme plaulibility, mull, 1 think, be evident to 
 thofe who have relieved on the nature of the general 
 terms vthich abound more or lefs in every cultivated 
 language; and which may be confidered as one fpecies 
 of inftrumental aid, which art has difcovered to our 
 intelledual powers. From the obfervations wbich I 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 am afterwards to make, it will appear, that, without 
 general terms, all our reaibnings niuft neceffarily 
 have been limited to particulars ; and, confequently, 
 it is owing to the ufe of thefe, that the philofopher 
 is enabled to fpeculate concerning clalTes of objects, 
 with the fame faciUty with which the lavage or the 
 peafant fpeculates concerning the individuals of 
 which they are compofed. The technical terms, in 
 the different fciences, render the appropriated lan- 
 guage of philofophy a (till more convenient inftru- 
 ment of thought, than thofe languages which have 
 originated from popular ufe ; and in proportion as 
 thefe technical terms improve in pomt of preciiion 
 and comprehenlivenefs, they will contribute to ren- 
 der our intellectual progrefs more certain and more 
 rapid. " While engaged" (fays Mr. Lavoilier) " in 
 " the compofition of my elements of Chemiftry, I 
 " perceived, better than I had ever done before, the 
 " truth of an obfervation 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 af exprefTion, is the moft 
 " fniiple, the moft exact, and the beft adapted to its 
 " purpofe, is, at the fame time, a language and an 
 " analytical method. The art of reafoiiing is noth- 
 " ing more than a language well arranged." 'Ihe 
 influence which thefe very enlightened and philo- 
 fophical views have already had on the doctrines of 
 chemiftry, cannot fail to be known to moft of my 
 readers. 
 
 The foregoing remarks, in fo far as they relate to 
 the pofQbility of affifting our reafoning and inven- 
 tive powers, by new inftrumentalaids, may perhaps 
 appear to be founded too much upon theory ; but 
 this objection cannot be made to the reafonings I 
 have offered on the importance of the fludy of meth- 
 od. — To the juftnefs of thefe, the whole hiftory of 
 fcience bears teftimony j but more efpecially, the 
 
54 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 hiftories of Phyfics and of pure Geometry ; which 
 afFord fo remarkable an illuftration of the general 
 doctrine, as can fcarcely fail to he fluisfa^lory, even 
 to thofe who are the moft difpofed to doubt the ef- 
 ficacy of art in directing the exertions of genius. 
 
 With refpecl to the former, it is (ufiicient to men- 
 tion the wonderful effeds which the writings of 
 Lord Bacon have produced, in accelerating its pro- 
 grefs, The philofophers, who ilourilhed before his 
 time, were, undoubtedly, not inferior to their luc- 
 cefTors, either in genius or induftry : but their plan 
 of inveftigation was erroneous ; and their labours 
 Iiave produced only a chaos of fictions and abfurdi- 
 ties. The illullrations which his works contain, of 
 the method of induction, general as the terms are, 
 in which they are exprelTed, have gradually turned 
 the attention of the moderns'to the rules of philofo- 
 phifmg ; and have led the way to thofe important 
 and fublime difcoveries in phylics, which reflect fo 
 much honour on the prefent age. 
 
 The rules of philofophifing, however, even in 
 phyfics, have never yet been laid down with a fuf- 
 ficient degree of precifion, minutenefs, or method ; 
 Kor have they ever been ftated and illuftrated in fo 
 clear and popular a manner, as to render them intel- 
 Mgible to the generality of readers. The truth, per- 
 haps, is ; that the greater part of phyfical inquirers 
 have derived what knowledge of them they poiiefs, 
 rather from an attention to the excellent models of 
 inveftigation, which the writings of Newton exhibit, 
 than from any of the fpeculations of lord Bacon, or 
 his commentators : and, indeed, fuch is the incapa- 
 city of moft people for abftract reafoning, that I am 
 inclined to think, even if the rules of inquiry were 
 delivered in a perfectly complete and unexceptiona- 
 ble form, it might ftill be expedient to teach them to 
 the majority of ftudents, rather by examples, than 
 in the form of general principles. But it does not ■ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. JJ 
 
 therefore follow, that an attempt to illuftrate and to 
 methodize thefe rules, would be uielefs ; for it mufl 
 be remembered, that, although an original and in- 
 ventive genius, like that of Newton, be fufficient to 
 eftablifli a ftandard for the imitation of his age, yet, 
 that the genius of Newton himfelf was encouraged 
 and led by the light of Bacon's philofophy. 
 
 The ufe which the ancient Greek geometers made 
 of their analyfis^ affords an additional illuftration of 
 the utility of method in guiding fcientific invention. 
 To facilitate the ftudy of this fpecies of inveftigation, 
 they wrote no lefs than thirty-three preparatory 
 book ; and they confidered an addrefs, in the praclice 
 of it, (or,asMarinus calls it a ot^va/^/j av«Ayr/>t*3) as of much 
 more value, than an extenfive acquaintance with the 
 principles of the fcience.* Indeed, it is well known, 
 to every one who is at all converfant with geome- 
 trical inveftigations, that although it may be poffible 
 for a perfon, without the affiftance of the method of 
 analyfis, to ftumble accidentally on a folution, or on 
 a demonftration ; yet it is impoilible for him to pof- 
 fefs a juft confidence in his own powers, or to carry- 
 on a regular plan of invention and difcovery. It is 
 well known, too, that an acquaintance with this me- 
 thod brings geometers much more nearly upon a 
 level with each other, than they would be other wife : 
 not that it is poffible, by any rules, to fupercede, en- 
 tirely, ingenuity and addrefs ; but, becaufe, in con- 
 fequence of the uniformity of the plan on which the 
 method proceeds, experience communicates a cer- 
 tain dexterity in the ufe of it ; which muft in time 
 gi*re to a very ordinary degree of fagacity, a fuperi- 
 ority, on the whole, to the greateft natural ingenui- 
 ty, unaffilled by rule.f 
 
 * MsiC«v fr' T« Jtvaja/v a-ixhwi-Kr,* liTnaxaOxii rov TtcXXx'; a<7rodsi^Ei.; 
 Ten ttrt fcspovi e%£'v. 
 
 t " Mathematica molti sciunt, mathesin pauci. Aliud est enim 
 nosse propobitiones aliquot, et nonnullas ex iis obvias elicere, casu 
 
5Q ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 To thefe obfervations, I believe, I may add, that, 
 .after all that was done by the Greek philofophers to 
 facilitate mathematical invention, many rules ftil) re- 
 main to be fugj>efted, which m.ight be of important 
 ule, even in pure geometry. A variety of fuch oc- 
 cur to every experienced mathematician, in the 
 courfe of his inquiries, although, perhaps, he may 
 not be at the trouble to ftate them to himfeif in 
 words ; and it would plainly have faved him much 
 expence of time and thought, befide enabling him 
 to condud his refearches on a more regular plan, if 
 he had been taught them fyftematically at the com- 
 mencement of his ftudies. The more varied, abftrufe, 
 and general inveftigations of the moderns, ftand in 
 need, in a much greater degree, of the guidance of 
 philofophical principles ; not only for enabling us to 
 condud:, with fkill, our particular refearches, but for 
 directing us to the different methods of reafoning, to 
 which we ought to have recourfe on different occa- 
 fions. A coUedion of fuch rules would form, what 
 might be called with propriety, the logic of mathe- 
 matics ; and would probably conrtibute greatly to the 
 advancement of all thofe branches of knowledge, to 
 which mathematical learning is fubfervient. 
 
 The obfervations which have been now made, on 
 the importance of method in conducting phyfical and 
 mathematical refearches, particularly thofe which re- 
 
 polios quam certa aliqua discurrendi norma, alind scientla? ipsius 
 jnaturam nc iiidolem perspectam habere, in ejus se adyta penetrare, 
 ot ab universaiibns instructum essepr^eceptis, quibustheoremata ac 
 probleitiata innumera excogitandi,eademqnedenaon£trandi faci'ilas 
 comparetur. Ut enim pictorum vulgu-; prototypon s?epe sappius 
 f^xprimendo, quendam pingendi usunn, riuilam vero pictoriae artis 
 quam optica suggorit,, scientiara adquirii, ita multi, lectis Euclidis 
 et alionim geometrarum libris, eorura imitatione fingere proposi- 
 tiones aliquas ac demons+rare sclent, ipsaai tainen secrelissimain dif- 
 ficiliorumtheorematorn ac problemat um solvendimethodnmprorsus 
 ignorant." — J mnuis de !a Fadle Tlieoremata de Centro Gravitatis, 
 in praE?fat, — Antwerpla?, 1G33* 
 
OF THE HtJMAN MIND. 57 
 
 iate to the lafl of thefe fubjecls, will not apply lite- 
 rally to our inquiries in metaphyfics, morals, or 
 politics ; becaufe, in thefe fciences, our reafonings 
 always confift of a comparatively fmall number of 
 intermediate Heps ; and the obftacles which retard 
 our progrefs, do not, as in mathematics, arife from 
 the difficulty of finding media of comparifon among 
 our ideas. Not, that thefe obftacles are lefs real, or 
 more eafily furmounted : on the contrary, it feems 
 to require a ftill rarer combination of talents to fur- 
 mount them ; for how fmall is the number of indi- 
 viduals, who are qualified to think juftly on meta- 
 phyfical, moral, or political fubjecis ; in comparifon 
 of thofe, who may be trained by practice to follow 
 the longeft procefl'es of mathematical reafoning. 
 From what thefe obftacles arife, I ftiall not inquire 
 particularly at prefent. Some of the more impor- 
 tant of them may be referred to the imperfedions 
 of language ; to the difficulty of annexing prepfe 
 and fteady ideas to our words ; to the difficulty, in 
 fome cafes, of conceiving the fubje^ts of our reafon- 
 ing ; and, in others, of difcovering, and keeping in 
 view, all the various circumftances upon which our 
 judgment ought to proceed ; and above all, to the 
 prejudices which early imprefiions and aflliciations 
 create, to warp our opinions. — To illuftrate thefe 
 fources of error, in the different fciences which are 
 liable to be affedled by them, and to point out the 
 moft effedlual means for guarding againft them, 
 would form another very interefting article, in a 
 philofophical fyftem of logic. 
 
 The method of communicating to others, the 
 principles of the different fciences, has been as much 
 negle^ed by the writers on logic, as the rule of in- 
 veftigation and difcovery ; and yet, there is certain- 
 ly no undertaking whatever, in which their affiftance 
 is more indifpenfibly requifite. The firft principles 
 of all the fciences are intimately connected with the 
 H 
 
S8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 pliilofaphy of the human mind ; and it is the proi' 
 vince of the logician, to (late thefe in fuch a manner, 
 as to lay a folid foundation for the fuperftructures- 
 which others are to rear. — It is in ftating fuch prin- 
 ciples, accordingly, that elementary writers are chief- 
 ly apt to fail. How unfatisfaclory, for example, are 
 the introductory chapters in moil fyftems of natural 
 philofophy ; not in confequence of any defe<^ of 
 phyfical or of mathematical knowledge in their 
 authors, but in confequence of a want of attention 
 to the laws of human thought, and to the general 
 rules of juft reafoning ! The fame remark may be 
 extended to the form, in which the elementary 
 principles of many of the other fciences are com- 
 monly exhibited ; and, if I am not miftaken, this 
 want of order, among the firft ideas which they 
 prefent to the mind, is a more powerful obftacle 
 to the progrefs of knowledge, than is generally im- 
 agined. 
 
 I fliall only obferve farther, with refped to the 
 utility of the philofophy of mind, that as there are 
 fome arts, in which we not only employ the intellec- 
 tual faculties as inttruments, but operate on the 
 mind as a fubjedl ; fo, to thofe individuals who 
 aim at excellence in fuch purfuits, the ftudies I 
 have now been recommending are, in a more pecul- 
 iar manner, interefting and important. In poetry, 
 in painting, in eloquence, and in all the other fine 
 arts, our fuccefs depends on the fkill with which we 
 are able to adapt the efforts of our genius to the 
 human frame ; and it is only on a phylofophical 
 analyfis of the mind^ that a folid foundation can be 
 laid for their farther improvement. Man, too, is the 
 fubjedl on which the practical moralill and the en- 
 lightened ftatesman have to operate. Of the former, 
 it is the profeiTed object to engage the attention of 
 individuals to their own bed interefis ; and to allure 
 them to virtue and happinefs, by every confidera- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 3^ 
 
 tion that can influence the underftanding, the imag- 
 ination, or the heart. To the latter, is afligned the 
 fublimer office of fecoriding the benevolent inten- 
 tions of Providence in the adminiftration of humaa 
 affairs ; to difFufe as widely and equally as poffible, 
 among his fellow citizens, the advantages of the fe- 
 cial union ; and, by a careful ftudy of the conftitu- 
 ti'jn of man, and of the circumllances in which he is 
 placed, to modify the political order, in fuch a man- 
 ner as may allow free fcope and operation to thofe 
 principles of intellectual and moral improvement, 
 which nature has implanted in our fpecies. 
 
 In all thefe cafes, I -am very fenfible, that the util- 
 ity of fyftematical rules has been called in queftion 
 by philofophers of note ; and that many plaufible 
 arguments in fupport of their opinion, may be de- 
 rived from the fmall number of individuals who 
 have been regularly trained to eminence in the arts, 
 in comparifon of thofe who have been guided mere- 
 ly by untutored genius, and the example of their 
 predeceflbrs. I know, too, that it may be urged 
 with truth, that rules have, in fome cafes, done more 
 harm than good ; and have milled, inilead of di- 
 recling, the natural exertions of the mind* But, in 
 all fuch inftances, in which philofpphical principles 
 have failed in producing their intended effed, I will 
 venture to alTert, that they have done fo, either in 
 conlequence of errors, which were accidentally blen- 
 ded with them ; or, in confequence of their poflesr 
 fing only that flight and partial influence over the 
 genius, which enabled them to derange its previous.- 
 ly acquired habits ; without regulating its operations, 
 upon a fyftematical plan, with lleadinefs and eflicacy. 
 In all the arts of life, whether trifling or important, 
 there is a certain degree of Ikili, which may be at- 
 tained by our untutored powers, aided by imitation ; 
 and this flsiill, inftead of being perfected by rules, 
 may, by means of them, be diminilhcd or deflroyed. 
 
60 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 if thefe rules are partially and imperfeclly appre- 
 hended ; or even if they are not fo familiarized to 
 the underftanding, as to influence its exertions uni- 
 formly and habitually. In the cale of a mufical per- 
 former, who has learned his art merely by the ear, 
 tl'e firft effects of fyftematical inftru<5l".on are, I be- 
 lieve, always unfavourable. The effecl is the fame, 
 of the rules of elocution, when firfl communicated 
 to one who has attained, by his natural tafte and 
 good fenfe, a tolerable propriety in the art of reading. 
 But it does not follow from this, that, in either of 
 thefe arts, rules are ufelefs. It only follows, that, in 
 order to unite eafe and grace with corrednefs, and 
 to preferve the felicities of original genius, amidft 
 thofe reftraints which may give them an ufeful di- 
 rection, it is neceffary that the acquifltions of educa- 
 tion fliould, by long and early habits, be rendered, 
 in fome meafure, a fecond nature.— The fame obfer- 
 vations will be found to apply, with very flight alter- 
 ations, to arts of more ferious importance. — In the 
 art of legiflation, for example, there is a certain de- 
 gree of fkill, which may be acquired merely from 
 the routine of bulinefs ; and when once a poUtician 
 has been formed, in this manner, among the details 
 of office, a partial ftudy of general principles, will be 
 much more Hkely to lead him aflray, than to en- 
 lighten his Gonducl. But there is neverthelefs a 
 fcience of legiflation, which the details of office, and 
 the intrigues of popular affemblies, will never com- 
 municate ; a fcience, of which the principles muff: be 
 fought for in the conftitution of human nature, and 
 in the general laws which regulate the courfe of hu- 
 man affairs ; and which, if ever, in confequence of 
 the progrefs of reafon, philofophy fliould be enabled 
 to affunie that afcendant in the government of the 
 world, which has hitherto been maintained by acci- 
 dent, combined with the paffions and caprices of a 
 few leading individuals, may, perhaps, produce more 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 61 
 
 perfed and happy forms of fociety, than have yet 
 been realized in the hiftory of mankind. 
 
 I have thus endeavored to point out, and illuftrate, 
 a few of the moft important purpofes to which the 
 philofophy of the human n\ind is fubfervient. It 
 will not, however, I flatter myfelf, be fuppofed by 
 any of my readers, that I mean to attempt a fyftem- 
 atical work, on all, or any of the fubjefls I have now 
 mentioned; the moft limited of which, would fur- 
 nifh matter for many volumes. What I have aim- 
 ed at, has been, to give, in the firft place, as diftin<5l 
 and complete an analyfis as I could, of the principles, 
 both intelledual and adive, of our nature ; and, in 
 the fecond place, to illuftrate, as I proceed, the appli- 
 cation of thefe general laws of the human conftitu- 
 tion, to the uifFerent clafles of phenomena which re- 
 fult from them. In the feleclion of thefe phenom- 
 ena, although I have fometimes been guided chiefly 
 by the curiofiry of the moment or the accidental 
 courfe of my own ftudies ; yet, I have had it in 
 view, to vary, as far as poffible, the nature of my 
 fpeculations, in order to fliow how numerous and 
 different the applications are, of which this philofo- 
 phy is fufceptible. It will not, therefore, I hope, be 
 objected to me, that I have been guilty of a blamea- 
 ble violation of unity in the plan of my work, till it 
 be coniidered how far fuch a violation was ufeful 
 for accomplifliing the purpofes for which I write. 
 One fpecies of unity, I am willing to believe, an at- 
 tentive reader will be able to trace in it ; I mean that 
 uniformity of thought and deflgn, " which" (as But- 
 ler well remarks,) "' we may always exped: to meet 
 " with in the compofitions of the fame author, when 
 " he writes with fimplicity, and in earneft." 
 
ELEMENTS 
 
 OP THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. 
 
 »e«4»9®@K^i€^90«»««ai 
 
 CHAPTER FIRST. 
 
 OF THE POWERS OF EXTERNAL PERCEPTION. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Theories which have been formed by Philofophers^ 
 to explain the manner in which the Mind perceives ex- 
 ternal Objects, 
 
 AMONG the various phenomena which the hu- 
 man mind prefents to our view, there is none more 
 calculated to excite our curiofity and our wonder, 
 than the communication which is carried on be- 
 tween the fentient, thinking, and aflive principle 
 within us, and the material objects with which we 
 are furrounded. How little foever the bulk of m?.n- 
 kind may be difpofed to attend to fuch inquiries, 
 there is fcarcely a perfon to be found, who has not 
 occafionally turned his thoughts to that myfterious 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 6& 
 
 * 
 
 influence, which the will pofleffes over the members 
 of the body ;' and to thofe powers of perception, 
 which feem to inform us, by a fort of infpiration, of 
 the various changes which take place in the external 
 univerfe. Of thofe who receive the advantages of a 
 liberal education, there are perhaps few, who pafs 
 the period of childhood, without feeling their curi- 
 oiity excited by this incomprehenfible communica- 
 tion between mind and matter. For my own part, 
 at leaft, I cannot recollect the date of my earliefl 
 fpeculations on the fubjed. 
 
 It is to the phenomena of perception alone, that I 
 am to confine myfelf in the following elTay ; and 
 even with refpecl to thefe, all that I propofe, is to 
 offer a few general remarks on fuch of the common 
 miftakes concerning them, as may be moft likely to 
 miflead us in our future inquiries. Such of my 
 readers as wifh to confider them more in detail, will 
 find ample fatisfadion in the writings of Dr. Reid. 
 
 In confidering the phenomena of perception, it is 
 natural to fuppofe, that the attention of philofophers 
 would be directed, in the firft inftance, to the fenfe 
 of feeing. The variety of information and of enjoy- 
 ment we receive by it ; the rapidity with which this 
 information and enjoyment are conveyed to us ; and 
 above all, the intercourfe it enables us to maintain 
 with the more dillant part of the univerfe, cannot 
 fail to give it, even in the apprehenlion of the moil 
 carelefs obferver, a pre-eminence over all our other 
 perceptive faculties. Hence it is, that the various 
 theories, which have been formed to explain the op- 
 €i*atious of our fenfes, have a more immediate ref- 
 erence to that of feeing j and that th^^ greater part 
 of the metaphyfical language, concerning perception 
 in general, appears evidently, from its etymology, 
 to have been fuggefted by the phenomena of viiion. 
 Even when applied to this fenfe, indeed, it can at 
 moft amufethe fajicv, without conveying ui.v \ 
 
 r*"*- 
 
64 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 cife knowledge ; but, when applied to the other fen- 
 ces, it is altogether abfurd and unintelligible. 
 
 It would be tedious and uieiefs, to confider partic- 
 ularly, the different hypothefis which have been ad- 
 vanced upon this fubjeci: To all of them, I appre- 
 hend, the two following remarks will be found ap- 
 plicable : Firft, that, in the formation of them, their 
 authors have been influenced by fome general max- 
 ims of philofophifing, borrowed from phyiics 5 and, 
 fecondly, that they have been influenced by an in- 
 diftincl, but deep-rooted, conviction, of the immate- 
 riality of the foul ; which, although not precife e- 
 nough to point out to them the abfurdity of at- 
 tempting to illuftrate its operations by the analogy 
 of matter, was yet fufficiently ftrong, to induce them 
 to keep the abfurdity of their theories as far as pof- 
 iible out of view, by allufions to thofe phyfical fadls, 
 in which the diflindtive properties of matter are the 
 leaft grofsly and palpably expofed to our obfervation. 
 To the former of thefe circumftances, is to be afcri- 
 bed, the general principle, upon which all the known 
 theories of perception proceed ; that, in order to 
 explain the intercourfe between the mind and dif- 
 tant objects, it is neceflary to fuppofe the exiftence 
 of fomething intermediate, by which its perceptions 
 are produced ; to the latter, the various metaphor- 
 ical expreflions oi ideas ^ fpecks^ forms ^ fnadoivs^ phan- 
 tafms^ images ; which, while they amufed the fancy 
 with fome remote analogies to the objeds of our fen- 
 fes, did not diredly revolt our reafon, by prefenting 
 to us any of the tangible qualities ot body. 
 
 " It was the doclrine of Ariftotle, (fays Dr. Reid) 
 " that, as our fenfes connot receive external materi- 
 " al objects themfelves, they receive their fpecies ; 
 " that is, their images or forms, without the mat- 
 " ter ; as wax receives the form of the feal, 
 " without any of the matter of it. Thefe images 
 '' or forms, imprefled upon the fenfes, are caliedyi?;. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 65 
 
 ^^ fihle fpecies ; and are the objeds only of the fenfi- 
 " tive part of the mind : but by various, internal 
 " powers, they are retained, refined, and fpirituali. 
 " zed, fo as to become objects of memory and ima- 
 " gination ; and at laft, of pure intelledion. When 
 " they are objeds of memory and imagination, they 
 " get the name o^phantafnu. When, by farther re- 
 " finement, and being ftripped of their particulari- 
 " ties, they become objects of (cience, they are caU 
 " led intelligible /pedes : fo that every immediate ob- 
 '' jecl, whether of fenfe, of memory, of imagination, 
 " or of reafoning, muft be fome phantafm, or fpe- 
 " cies, in the mind itfeif. 
 
 '' The followers of Ariftotle, efpecially the fchool- 
 '' men, made great additions to this theory ; which 
 " the author himfelf mentions very briefly, and with 
 ** an appearance of referve. They entered into large 
 " difquifitions with regard to the fenfible fpecies, 
 ** what kind of things they are j how they are fent 
 *' forth by the objed, and enter by the organs of the 
 " fenfes ; how they are preferved, and refined by va- 
 " rious agents, called internal fenfes, concerning the 
 " number and offices of which they had many con- 
 " troverfies."* 
 
 The Platonifts, too, although they denied the great 
 dodrine of the Peripatetics, that all the objeds of 
 human underftanding enter at firft by the fenfes ; 
 and maintained, that there exift eternal and immu- 
 table ideas, which were prior to the objeds of fenfe, 
 and about which all fcience was employed ; yet ap- 
 pear to have agreed with them in their notions con- 
 cerning the ;[node in which external objects are per- 
 ceived. This, Dr. Reid infers, partly from the fi- 
 lence of Ariftotle about any difference between him- 
 felf and his mafler upon this point ; and partly from 
 a pafTage in the feventh book of Plato's Republic ; in 
 which he compares the procefs of the mind in per- 
 * Essajson the Intellectual Powers of Man, p. 25. 
 
 T 
 
06 ELEMENTS Of THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ception, to that of a perfon in a cave, who fees not 
 external objecls themfelves, but only their fhadows.* 
 
 " Two thoufand years after Plato, (continues Dr, 
 " Reid,) Mr. Locke, who fludied the operations of 
 *' the human mind fo much, and with fo great fuc- 
 *' cefs, reprefcnts our manner of perceiving external 
 *' objects, by a fimilitude very much refembling that 
 *' of a cave. — " Methinks," fays he, " the under- 
 *' (landing is not much unlike a clofet, wholly fhut 
 *' from light, with only fome little opening left, to 
 *' let in external vilible refemblances or ideas of 
 *' things without. Would the pidures coming into 
 *' fuch a dark room but ftay there, and lie fo orderly 
 *' as to be found upon occafion, it would very much 
 ** refemble the underftandingof i man, in reference 
 " to all objeAs of fight, and the ideas of them."t 
 
 " Plato's fubterranean cave, and Mr l^ocke's dark 
 *' clofet, may be applied with eafe to all the fyftems 
 " of perception, that have been invented : for they 
 *' all fuppofe, that we perceive not external objeds 
 ^' immediately ; and that the immediate objeds of 
 *' perception, are only certain fliadows of the exter- 
 *' nal objedls. Thofe fhadows, or images, which we 
 *' immediately perceive, were by the ancients called 
 ^^ fpecies^ forms^ phantafms. Since the lime of Des 
 *' Cartes, they have commonly been called ideas ; J 
 *' and by Mr. Hume, imprejjtons. But all the philof- 
 *' ophers, from Plato to Mr. Hume, agree in this, 
 *' that we do not perceive external objeds immedi- 
 *' ately ; and that the immediate obje<5l of percep- 
 " tion muft be fome image prefent to the mind.'* 
 On the whole. Dr. Reid remarks, " that in their 
 *' fentiments concerning perception, there appears 
 *' an uniformity, which rarely occurs upon fubjeds 
 *^ of fo abftrufe a nature." § 
 
 * Ibid. p. 99. 
 t Locke on Human Understanding, book ii. chap. 1 1. § 17. 
 t See Note [B.] § Reid, p. 1 1 6, 1 1 7. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 67 
 
 The very Ihort and imperfect review we have 
 mow taken, of the common theories of perception, 
 is almoft fuiEcient, without any commentary, to ef- 
 tabliih the truth of the two general obfervations for- 
 merly made ; for they all evidently proceed on a 
 fuppofition, fuggefted by the phenomena of phyfics, 
 that there muft of neceflity exift fome medium of 
 communication between the objeds of perception 
 and the percipient mind ; and they all indicate a fe- 
 cret conviction in their authors, of the effential dif- 
 tin<^ion between mind and matter ; which, although 
 not rendered, by reflection, fufiiciently precife and 
 fatisfadory, to fhew them the abfurdity of attempt- 
 ing to explain the mode of their communication ; 
 had yet fuch a degree of influence on their fpecula- 
 tiong, as to induce them to exhibit their fuppofed 
 medium under as myfterious and ambiguous a form 
 as poflible, in order that it might remain doubtful, 
 to which of the two predicaments, of body or mind, 
 they meant that it fliould be referred. By refining 
 away the grofler qualities of matter ; and by allu- 
 fions to fome of the mod: aerial and magical appear- 
 ances it aflumes, they endeavored, as it were, to fpir- 
 ituahze the nature of their medium ; while, at the 
 fame time, all their language concerning it, implied 
 fuch a reference to matter, as was necerfary for fur- 
 nifliing a plauiible foundation, for applying to it the 
 received maxims of natural philofophy- 
 
 Another obfervation, too, which was formerly 
 hinted at, is confirmed by the fame hiftorical re- 
 view ; that, in the order of inquiry, the phenome- 
 na of vifion had firft engaged the attention of phi- 
 lofophers ; and had fuggeiled to them the greater 
 part of their language, with refpecl to perception in 
 general ; and that in confequence of this circumflance, 
 the common modes of expreflion on the fubjecl, un- 
 philofophical and fanciful at beft, even when appli- 
 ed to the fenfe of feeing,are,in the cafe of all the other 
 
68 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fenfes, obvioufly unintelligible and felf-contradido- 
 ry. — " As to the objeds of fight," fays Dr. Reid, " I 
 *' underftand what is meant by an image of their 
 .*' figure in the brain : but how fhall we conceive 
 *' an image of their colour, where there is abfolute 
 *' darknefs ? And, as to all other objects of fenfe, 
 *' except figure and colour, I am unable to conceive 
 " what is meant by an image of them. Let any" 
 " man fay, what he means by an image of heat and 
 " cold, an image of hardnefs or foftnefs, an image 
 " of found, or fmell, or taile. The word i7nage^ when 
 *' app[ied to thefe objeds of fenfe, has ablblutely no 
 *^ meaning.'* — This palpable imperfedion in the ideal 
 theory, has plainly taken rife from the natural or- 
 der in which the phenomena of perception prefent 
 themfelves to the curiofity. 
 
 The miftakes, which have been fo long current in 
 the world, about this part of the human conftitution, 
 will, I hope, juftify me for profecuting the fubje<5l a 
 little farther j in particular, for illufirating, at fome 
 length, the firfi: of the two general remarks already 
 referred to. This fpeculation I enter upon the 
 more willingly, that it affords me an opportunity of 
 dating fome important principles with refpedl to the 
 objed, and the limits, of philofophical inquiry ; to 
 which I ftiall frequently have occafion to refer, in the 
 courfe of the following difquifitions. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Of certain natural prejudices^ whithfeem to have given 
 rife to the common Theories of Perception, 
 
 IT feems now to be pretty generally agreed a- 
 mong philofophers, that there is no inflance in 
 which we are able to perceive a necelfary connexion 
 between two fuccefiive events ; or to comprehend 
 in what manner the one proceeds from the other. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 09 
 
 as its caufe. From experience, indeed, we learn, 
 that there are many events, which are conftantly 
 conjoined, fo that the one invariably follows the oth- 
 er : but it is poflible, for any thing we know to the 
 contrary, that this connexion, though a conftant 
 one, as far as our obfervation has reached, may not 
 be a necefl'ary connexion ; nay, it is poflible, that 
 there may be no neceflary connexions among any of 
 the phenomena we fee : and if there are any fuch 
 connexions exifting, we may reft affured that we 
 fliall never be able to difcover them.* 
 
 I fhall endeavor to Ihew, in another part of this 
 work, that the doctrine I have now ftated does not 
 lead to thofe fceptical conclufions, concerning the 
 exiftence of aFirft Caufejwhich an author of great in- 
 genuity has attempted to deduce from it. At pref* 
 ent, it is fufficient for my purpofe to remark, that 
 the word caufe is ufed, both by philofophers and the 
 vulgar, in two fenfes, which are widely different. — 
 "When it is faid, that every change in nature indi- 
 cates th© operation of a caufe, the word caufe exprefl". 
 es fomething which is fuppofed to be neceffarily con- 
 necled with the change ; and without which it 
 could not have happened. This may be called the 
 metaphyfical meaning of the word ; and fuch caufes 
 may be called Tuetaphyfical or efficient caufes. — In nat- 
 ural philofophy, however, when we fpeak of one 
 thing being the caufe of another, all that we mean 
 is, that the two are conftantly conjoined ; fo that, 
 when we fee the one, we may expect the other. 
 Thefe conjunftions we learn from experience alone ; 
 and without an acquaintance with them, we could 
 not accommodate our condud to the eftabliflied 
 courfe of nature. — The caufes which are the objecEls 
 of our inveftigation in natural philofophy, may, for 
 the lake of diftindion, be cAled fby/icai caufes. 
 
 ♦ See note [C]. 
 
70 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 I am very ready to acknowledge, that this doc- 
 trine, concerning the obje<^ of natural philoibphy, 
 is not altogether agreeable to popular prejudices. 
 When a man, unaccuftomed to metaphylical fpccu- 
 lations, is told, for the firfl time, that the fcience of 
 phylics gives us no information concerning the effi- 
 cient caufes of the phenomena about which it is em- 
 ployed, he feels fome degree of furprife and mortifi- 
 cation. The natural bias of the mind, is furely to 
 conceive phyfical events as fomehow linked togeth- 
 er ; and material fubttances, as poffefled of certain 
 powers and virtues, which fit them to produce par- 
 ticular effed:s. That we have no reafon to believe 
 this to be the cafe, has been fliewn in a very fatis- 
 fa<5tory manner by Mr. Hume, and by other writ- 
 ers ; and muft, indeed, appear evident to every per- 
 fon, on a moment's refl?dion. It is a curious quef- 
 tion, what gives rife to the prejudice ? 
 
 In fiiating the argument for the exiftence of the 
 Deity, feveral modern philofophers have been at 
 pains to illuftrate that law of our nature, which leads 
 us to refer every change we perceive in the univerfe, 
 to the operation of an efficient caufe.* — This refer- 
 ence is not the refult of reafoning, but neceflarily ac- 
 companies the perception, fo as to render it impofli- 
 ble for us to fee the change, without feeling a con- 
 viction of the operation of some caufe by which it 
 was produced ; much in the fame manner in which 
 we find it to be impoflible to conceive a fenfation, 
 without being imprefied with a belief of the exill- 
 ence of a fentient being. Hence, I apprehend, it is, 
 that when we fee two events conftantly conjoined, 
 we are led to aflbciate the idea of caufation, or effi- 
 ciency, with the former, and to refer to it that pow^ 
 er or energy by which the change was produced ; 
 in confequence of which aflbciation, we come to 
 
 * See, in particular, Dr. Raid's Essays on the Intellectual Pow- 
 ers of Man. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND* 71 
 
 Gonfider philofophy as the knowledge of efficient 
 caufes ; and Jofe fight of the operation of mind, in 
 producing the phenomena of nature. — It is by an af- 
 fociation fomewhat fimilar, that we connect our fen- 
 fations of color, with the primary qualities of body. 
 A moment's refledion mutt fiatisfy any one, that the 
 fenfation of color can only refide in a mind ; and 
 yet our natural bias is iurely to connect color with 
 extenfion and figure, and to conceive white^ blue, and 
 yellow, as fomething fpread over the bodies. In the 
 fame way, we are led to affociate with inanimate 
 matter, the ideas oi power,force, energy, and caufation ; 
 which are all attributes of mind, and can exitt in a 
 mind only. 
 
 This bias of our nature is ftrengthened by another 
 aflbciation. Our language, with refpe6fc to caufe and 
 efFedl, is borrowed by analogy from material objefts. 
 Some of thefe we fee fcattered about us, without 
 any connexion between them ; fo that one of them 
 may be removed from its place, without difturbing 
 the reft. We can, however, by means of fome ma- 
 terial vinculum, conned two or more objects togeth- 
 er ; fo that whenever the one is moved, the others 
 Ihall follow. In like manner, we fee fome events, 
 which occafionally follow one another, and which 
 are occafionally disjoined : we fee others, where the 
 fucceffion is conftant and invariable. The former 
 we conceive to be analogous to obje<^s which are 
 loofe, and unconneded with each other, and whofe 
 contiguity in place, is owing merely to accidental 
 pofition ; the others to objeds, which are tied to- 
 gether by a material vinculum. Hence we transfer 
 to fuch events, the fame language which we apply 
 to conneded objeds. We fpeak of a connexion be- 
 tween two events,andof a chain of caufes and effeds.* 
 
 That this language is merely analogical, and that 
 
 ♦ See Note [D.] 
 
72 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 we know nothing of phylical events, but the laws 
 which regulate their fucceflion, muft, I think, appear 
 very obvious to every perfon who takes the trouble 
 to refled on the fubjed ; and yet it is certain, that it 
 has mifled the greater part of philofophers ; and has 
 had a furprifmg influence on the fy Items, which they 
 have formed in very different departments of fcience, 
 
 A few remarks, on fome of the miftaken conclu- 
 fions, to which the vulgar notions concerning the 
 connexions among phyfical events have given rife, in 
 natural philofophy, will illuftrate clearly the origin of 
 the common theories of perception ; and will, at the 
 fame time, fatisfy the reader, with refpedt to the 
 train of thought which fuggelled the foregoing ob- 
 fervations. 
 
 The maxim, that nothing can adl but where it is, 
 and when it is, has always been aumitied, with refpect 
 to metaphyfical or efficient caufes. " Whatever ob- 
 "jefls," fays Mr Hume, " are confidered as caufes 
 " or effects, are contiguous ; and nothing can ope- 
 " rate in a time or place, which is ever fo little re- 
 ^* moved from thofe of its exiftence." " We may 
 *' therefore (he adds) confider the relation of conti- 
 " guity as eflential to that of caufation." — But al- 
 though this maxim fhould be admitted, with ref- 
 ped to caufes which are efficient, and which, as fuch, 
 are neceflarily connected with their effects, tlv re is 
 furely no good reafon for extending it to phyfical 
 caufes, of which we know nothing, but that they 
 are the conflant forerunners and iigns of certain nat- 
 ural events. It may, indeed, be improper, accord- 
 ing to this doctrine, to retain the expreffions, cavfe 
 and effed;^ in natural philofophy ; but, as long as the 
 prefent language upon the fubjed continues in ufe, 
 the propriety of its application, in any particular in- 
 ftance, does not depend on the contiguity of the two 
 events in place or time, but folely on this queftion, 
 whether the one event be the conftant and invaria- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 73 
 
 ble forerunner of the other, fo that it may be confid- 
 ered as its infallible fign ? — Notwithftanding, how- 
 ever, the evidence of this conclulion, philofophers 
 have in general proceeded upon a contrary fuppofi- 
 tion ; and have difcovered an unwillingnefs, even in 
 phyfics, to call one event the caufe of another, if the 
 fniaiieft interval of fpace or time exifted between 
 them. In the cafe of motion, communicated by 
 impulfe, they have no fcruple to call the impuUe the 
 caufe of the motion ; but they will not admit that 
 one body can be the caufe of motion in another, pla- 
 ced at a diiimce from it, unlefs a connexion is car- 
 ried on between them, by means of fome interven- 
 ing medium. 
 
 It is unneceffary for me, after what has already 
 been faid, to employ any arguments to prove, that 
 the communication of motion by impulfe, is as un- 
 accountable, as any other phenomenon in nature. 
 Thofe philofophers who have attended at all to the 
 fubject, even they who have been the leall: fceptical 
 with refped to caufe and effecl, and who have ad- 
 mitted a neceifary connedlion among phyfical events, 
 have been forced to acknowledge, that they could 
 not difcover any neceifary connexion between im- 
 pulfe and motion. Hence, fome of them have been 
 led to conclude, that the impulfe only roufes the ac- 
 tivity of the body, and that the fubfequent motion 
 is the effed of this activity, conftantiy exerted. 
 *' Motion," fays one writer, " is adion ; and a con- 
 *' tinned motion implies a continued adion." " The 
 " impulfe is only the caufe of the beginning of the 
 *' motion ; its continuance muft be the effed of fome 
 " other caufe, 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 theory of mind, has arifen from a firai- 
 lar view of the fui>jecl before us. He could difcov- 
 er no neceflary connection between impulfe and 
 K 
 
74 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 motion ; and concluded, that the impulfe was only 
 the occafton of the motion, the beginning and con- 
 tinuance of which he afcribed to the continued agen- 
 cy of the mind with which the body is animated. 
 
 Although, however, it be obvious, on a moment's 
 confideration, that we are as ignorant of the con- 
 nexion between impulfe and motion, as of the con- 
 nexion between fire and any of the efFccbs we fee it 
 produce, philofophers, in every age, feem to ha/e 
 confidered the production of vnotion by impulfe, as 
 almoft the only phyfical fact which flood in need of 
 no explanation. When we fee one body attrad an- 
 other at a diilance, our curiolity is roufed, and we 
 inquire how the connexion is carried on between 
 them. But when v/e fee a body begin to move in 
 confequence of an impulfe which another has given 
 it, we inquire no farther : on the contrary, we think 
 a fa6t fufHciently accounted for, if it can be ihewn 
 to be a cafe of impulfe. This difHnclion, between 
 motion produced by impulfe, and the other phenom- 
 ena of nature, we are led, in a great meafure, to 
 make, by confounding together efficient and phyfi- 
 calcaufesj and by applying to the latter, maxims 
 which have properly a reference only to the former. 
 — Another circumftance, likewife, has probably ci^n- 
 liderabie influence : that, as it is by means of im- 
 puiie alone, that we ourfelves have a power of mov- 
 ing external objects ; this facl is more familiar to us 
 from our infancy than any other ; and flrikes us as 
 a fact which is neceflary, and which could not have 
 happened otherwife. Some writers have even gone 
 fo far as to pretend that, although the experiment 
 had never been niiide, the communication of the mo- 
 tion by impulfe, might have been predicted by rea- 
 foning a prior u* 
 
 * See an Answer to Lord Kainis's E?feay on motion ; by John 
 Stewart. M. D. 
 
 n 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 75 
 
 From the following pafllige, in one of Sir Ifaac 
 Newton's letters to Dr. Bentley, it appears that he 
 fuppofed the communication of motion by impulfe, 
 to be a phenomenon much more explicable, than that 
 a connexion ihould fubfift between two bodies pla- 
 ced at a diftance from each other, without any in- 
 tervening medium. " It is inconceivable," fays he, 
 ^' that inzinimate brute matter fhould, without the 
 *' mediation of fomething elfe which is not material, 
 " operate upon, and afl'ed other matter, without 
 *' mutual contact ; as it muft do, if gravitation, in 
 " the fenfe of Epicurus, be cilbntial and inherent in 
 *' it. And this is one reafon why I defired that you 
 ** would not afcribe innate gravity to me. That 
 <« gravity fliould be innate, inherent, and effential to 
 " matter, fo that one body may acl on another, 
 *' through a vacuum, without the mediation of any 
 " thing elfe, by and through which their adion and 
 *' force may be conveyed from one to another, is to 
 *' me fo great an abfurdity, that I believe no man 
 ** who has, in philofophical matters, a competent 
 ** faculty of thinking, can ever fall into it." 
 
 With this paliage I fo far agree, as to allow that it 
 is impoflible to conceive, in what manner one body 
 afe on another at a dillance, through a vacuum. 
 But I cannot admit that it removes the difficulty to 
 fuppofe that the two bodies are in actual contact. 
 That one body may be the efficient caufe of the mo- 
 tion of another body placed at a dillance from it, I 
 do by no means ailert ; but only, that we have as 
 good reafon to l)^lieve that this may be poffible, as to 
 believe that any one natural event is the efficient 
 caufe of another. 
 
 I have been led into this very long dlfquifition, 
 concerning efficient and phyfical caufes, in order to 
 point out the origin of the conunon theories of per- 
 ception ; all of which appear to me to have taken 
 rife from th« fame prejudice, which I have already 
 
76 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 remarked to have had fo extenfive an influence up* 
 op the fpeculatians of natural philofophers. 
 
 That, in the cafe of the perception of diftant ob- 
 jeds, we are naturally inclined to fufped, either 
 fomething to be emitted from the object to the or- 
 gan of lenfe, or fome medium to intervene between 
 the object and organ, by means of whicli the former 
 may communicate an impulfe to the latter ; appears 
 from the common modes of expreflion on the fubjecl, 
 which are to be found in all languages. In our own, 
 for example, we frequently hear the vulgar fpeak, 
 of light ftriking the eye ; not in confequence of any 
 philofophical theory they have been taught, but of 
 their own crude and undirected fpeculations. Per- 
 haps there are few men among thofe who have at- 
 tended at all to the hiftory of their own thoughts, 
 who will not recoiled: the influence of thefe ideas, at 
 a period of life long prior to the date of their philo- 
 fophical ftudies. Nothing, indeed, can be conceiv* 
 ed more fimple and natural than their origin. When 
 an object is placed in a certain lituation with refpe(^ 
 to a particular organ of the body, a perception arifes 
 in the mind ; when the object is removed, the per- 
 ception ceafes. * Hence we are led to apprehend 
 fome connexion between the objed: and the per- 
 ception ; and as we are accuftomed to believe, that 
 matter produces its efFe<5ts by impulfe, we conclude 
 that there muft be fome material medium interven- 
 ing between the objed: and organ, by means of wJiich 
 the impulfe is communicated from the one to the 
 other. — That this is really the cafe, I do not mean 
 
 * Turn porro varies rerum sentimus odores, 
 Nee tamen ad nareis venienteis cernimus unquam : 
 Nee calidos aestus tuimur, nee frigora quimus 
 Usurpare oculis, nee voces cernere suemus ; 
 (iua? tamen omnia corporea oonstare necesse 'st 
 Natura ; quoniam sensus impellere possunt. 
 
 LucRET. lib. i. p. 299. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 77 
 
 to difpute. I think, however, it is evident, that the 
 exillence of fuch a medium does not in any cafe ap- 
 pear a priori ; and yet the natural prejudices of men 
 have given rife to an univerfal belief of it, long be- 
 fore they were able to produce any good arguments 
 in fupport of their opinion. 
 
 Nor is it only to account for the connexion, be- 
 tween the objed: and the organ of fenfe, that philof- 
 ophers have had recourfe to the theory of impulfe. 
 They have imagined that the imprellion on the or- 
 gan of fenfe is communicated to the mind, in a fim- 
 ilar manner. As one body produces a change in the 
 ftate of another by impulfe, fo it has been fuppofed, 
 that the external objeA produces perception, (which 
 is a change in the ftate of the mind,) firft, by fome 
 material impreflion made on the organ of lenfe ; and, 
 fecondly, by fome material impreffion communica- 
 ted from the organ to the mind along the nerves 
 and brain. Thefe fuppofitions, indeed, as I had oc- 
 calion already to hint, were, in the ancient theories 
 of perception, rather implied than exprelTed ; but 
 by modern philofophers, they have been ftated in 
 the form of explicit propofitions. " As to the man- 
 " ner," fays Mr, Locke, " in which bodies produce 
 *' ideas in us ; it is manifeftly by impulfe, the only 
 " way which we can conceive bodies operate in."* 
 And Sir Ifaac Newton, although he does not fpeak 
 of an impulfe made on the mind, plainly proceeded 
 on the principle that, as matter can only move mat- 
 ter by impulfe, fo no connexion could be carried on 
 between matter and mind, unlefs the mind were 
 prefent (as he exprelTes it) to the matter from which 
 the iaft impreflion is communicated. " Is not'* (fays 
 he) " the fenforium of animals, the place where the 
 *' lentient fubftance is prefent ; and to which the 
 " fenfible fpecies of things are brought, through the 
 
 * Essay on Human Understanding, book ii. chap. viii. § 1 1. 
 
78 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPPIY 
 
 " nerves and brain, that there they may be perceiv- 
 " ed by the mind prelent in that place ?" Dr. Clarke 
 has expreffed the l-ime idea ftill more confidently, 
 in the folh'wing pailage of one of his letters to Leib- 
 nitz. " Without being prefent* to the images of 
 *' the things perceived, the foul could not poflibly 
 " perceive them. A living fubftance can only there 
 *' perc(^ive, where it is prefent. Nothing can any 
 *' more act, or be a(5led upon, where it is not prell 
 *' ent, than it can when it is not." " How body 
 " a6i:s upon mind, or mind upon body," (fays Dr. 
 Porterfield,t) "I know not; but this 1 am very certain 
 " of, that nothing can acf, or be a6led upon, where 
 *' it is not ; and therefore, our mind can never per- 
 *' ceive any thing but its own proper modifications, 
 " and the various ftates of the fenforium, to which 
 " it is prefent : fo that it is not the external lun and 
 *' moon, which are in the heavens, which our mind 
 ^^ perceives, but only their image or reprefentation, 
 " impreffed upon the fenforium. How the foul of 
 " a feeing man fees thefe images, or how it receives 
 *' thofe ideas, from fuch agitations in the fenforium, 
 
 * This phrase of " the soul he'mg present to the images of exter- 
 nal objects," has been Ubed by many philosophers, siiice the time 
 of Des Cartes ; evidently from a desire to avoid the absurdity of 
 supposii)g, that images of extension and figure can exist in an un- 
 ext ended mind. 
 
 " Qurerib," (sti^^s Des Cartes liimrelf, in replying to the objec- 
 tions of one of his antagonists) "quomodo exi&timjem in me tub- 
 " jec*o inextenso recipi posse speciem, ideamve corporis quod ex- 
 " tensum est. Respondeo nullam speciem corpoream in mente re- 
 '' cipi, sed puram intellectionem tam rei corpcrt^ quam incorportae 
 " fieri absque ulla specie oorporea ; ad iraaginationem vera, quae 
 *' noil nisi de rebus corporeis esse potest, opus quidem esse specie 
 *' qii« sit verura corpus, et ad quatn vienssc appUcct, sed non quae in 
 
 " mente recipiatur." It appears, therefore, that this pkilcso- 
 
 pher supposed hi- images, or ideas, to exist in the brow, aiKi not 
 in the mind, Mr. I^cke's expressions sometimes imply the one 
 supposition, and sometimes the other. 
 
 tSee his Treatise on the Eye, vol. ii. p. 350. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 7& 
 
 " I know not ; but I am fure it can never perceive 
 *' the external bodies themfelves, to which it is not 
 " prefent." 
 
 *The fame train of thinking, which had led thefe 
 philofophers to fuppofe, that external objects are per- 
 ceived by means of fpecies proceeding from the ob- 
 ject to the mind, or by means of fome material im- 
 preffion made on the mind by the brain, has fuggeft- 
 ed to a late writer a very different theory ; that 
 the mind, when it perceives an external objedl, quits 
 the body, and is prefent to the objefl of perception. 
 " The mind," fays the learned author of Antient 
 Metaphyfics,) " is not where the body is, when it 
 *' perceives what is diftant from the body, either in 
 " time or place, becaufe nothing can act, but w^hen, 
 *' and where, it is. Now, the mind adis when it per- 
 " ceives. The mind, therefore, of every animal who 
 *' has memory or imagination, ads, and by confe- 
 *' quence exifts, when and where the body is not ; 
 *' for it perceives objects diftant from the body both 
 " in time and place."! Indeed^ if we take for gran- 
 ted, that in perception the mind acts upon the oi3Jecl, 
 or the object upon the mind, and, at the fame time, 
 admit the truth of the maxim, that " nothing can 
 *' act but where it is," we muft, of neceilky, con- 
 clude, either that obje<5ts are perceived in a way fim- 
 ilar to what is fuppofed in the ideal theory, or that, 
 
 * " The slightest philosophy" (says Mr. Hnme) "teaches us, that 
 " nothing can ever be present to the mind, hot an image, or per- 
 " ception ; 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, buf- 
 " fers no alteration : it was, therefore, nothing but its image which 
 ** was present to the mind. These (he adds) are the obvious dic- 
 " tates of reason." 
 
 Essay on the Academical or ScnpricAL Philosophy. 
 
 t Ant. Met. vol.ii. p. 300. 
 
80 "^''^ ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSePHY 
 
 in every acl of perception, the foul quits the body, 
 and is prefent to the object perceived. And accor- 
 dingly this alternative is exprefsiy ftated by Male- 
 branche ; who differs, however, from the writer laft 
 quoted, in the choice which he makes of his hypoth- 
 efis ; and even refts his proof of its truth on the im- 
 probability of the other opinion. " I fuppofe,** fays 
 he, " that every one will grant, that we perceive not 
 *' external objeds immediately, and of themfelves. 
 " We fee the fun, the liars, and an infinity of objects 
 " without us ; and it is not at all likely that, upon 
 " fuch occafiQns, the foul failles out of the body, in or 
 *' der to be prefent to the objects perceived. She fees 
 '* them not therefore by themfelves ; and the im* 
 " mediate objed of the mind is not the thing per- 
 " ceived, but fomething which is intimately united 
 " to the foul ; and it is that which I call an idea : fo 
 " that by the word idea, I underftand nothing elfe 
 *' here but that which is nearell to the mind when 
 
 " we perceive any object. -It ought to be careful- 
 
 " ly obferved, that, in order to the mind's perceiv- 
 " ing any object, it is abfolutely necellary that the 
 " idea of that object be actually prefent to it. Of 
 *' this it is not poflible to doubt. The things which 
 " the foul perceives, are of two kinds. They are 
 " either in the foul, or they are without the foul. 
 *' Thofe that are in the foul, are its Qwn thoughts ; 
 *' that is to fay, all its different modifications. The 
 *' foul has no need of ideas for perceiving thefe 
 " things. But with regard to things without the 
 " foul, we cannot perceive them but by means of 
 " ideas." 
 
 To thefe quotations, T fhall add another, which 
 contains the opinion of BufFon upon the fubject. As 
 I do not underftand it fo completely, as to be able to 
 tranflateit in a manner intelligible to myfelf, I ihall 
 tranfcribe it in the words of the author. 
 " L'arae s'unit intimcment a tel objet qu*il iui plait^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 81 
 
 " la diftance, la grandeur, la figure, rien ne peut 
 *' nuire a cette union lorfque Tame la veut : elle fe 
 
 " fait et fe fait en un inftant la volonte 
 
 " n'eft elle done qi\'un mouvement corporel, et ia 
 " contemplation un fimple attouchement ? Com- 
 " ment cet attouchement pourroit-il fe faire fur un 
 ^' objet eloigne, fur un fujet abftrait ? Comment 
 " pourroit-il s'operer en un indent indivifible? A-t-on 
 " jamais con9u du mouvement, fans qu'il y eut de 
 " Tefpace et du tems ? La volonte, fi c'eil un mouve- 
 " ment, n'eft done pas un mouvement materiel, et 
 " fi Tunion de Tame a fon objet eft un attouchement, 
 " un contaft, cet attouchement ne fe fait-il pas au 
 " loin ? ce conta6l n'eft il pas une penetration ?" 
 
 All thefe theories appear to me to have taken rife, 
 firft, from an inattention to the proper object of 
 philofophy, and an application of the fame general 
 maxims to phyftcal and to efficient caufes ; and,fec- 
 ondly, from an apprehenfion, that we underftand 
 the connexion between impulfe and motion, better 
 than any other phyftcal fact. From the detail which 
 I have given, it appears how extenfive an influence 
 this prejudice has had on the inquiries both of nat- 
 ural philofophers and of metaphyficians. 
 
 In the foregoing reafonings, I have taken for gran- 
 ted, that motion may be produced by impulfe ; and 
 have contented myfelf with aflerting, that this fadt 
 is not more explicable, than the motions which the 
 Newtonians refer to gravitation ; or than the inter- 
 courfe which is carried on betvveen the mind and 
 external objects in the cafe of perception. The 
 truth, however, is, that fome of the ableft philofo- 
 phers in Europe are now fatisfied, not only that 
 there is no evidence of motion being in any cafe pro- 
 duced by the a«5lual contadt of two bodies ; but that 
 very ftrong proofs may be given, of the abfolute im- 
 poflibility of fuch a fuppofttion ; and hence th^Y 
 have been led to conclude, that all the eficofcs which 
 I. 
 
S2 ELEMENTS OF tHE PHlLOSOPHr 
 
 are commonly referred to impulfe, arife from a pow- 
 er of repulfion, extending to a fmall and impercept- 
 ible diftance round every element of matter. If this 
 do&ine Ihall be confirmed by future fpeculations 
 in phylics, it muft appear to be a curious circum- 
 ftance in the hiftory of fcience, that philofophers 
 have been fo long occupied in attempting to trace all 
 the phenomena of matter, and even fome of the 
 phenomena of mind, to a general facb, vi^hich, upon 
 an accurate examination, is found to have no exig- 
 ence.— I do not make this obfervation with a view 
 to depreciate the labours of thefe philofophers ; for, 
 although the fyftem of Bofcovich were completely 
 eftabliihed, it would not diminifh, in the fmalieft de- 
 gree, the value of thofe phy Ileal inquiries, which 
 have proceeded on the common hypothefis, with re- 
 fpe^t to impulfe. The laws which regulate the com- 
 munication of motion, in the cafe of apparent con- 
 tad, are the moft general fads we obferve among 
 the terreftrial phenomena ; and they are, of all phyf- 
 ical events, thole which are the moft familiar to us, 
 from our earlieft infancy. It was therefore not on- 
 ly natural but proper, that philofophers fhould be- 
 gin their phyfical inquiries, with attempting to re- 
 fer to thefe, (which are the moft general laws of na- 
 ture, expofed to the examination of our fenfes,) the 
 particular appearances they wifhed to explain. And, 
 if ever the theory of Bofcovich fhould be complete- 
 ly eftablifhed, it will have no other effect, than to re- 
 folve thefe laws into fome principle ftill more general, 
 without affeding the folidity of the common doc- 
 trine, fo far as it goes. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND- .jS'3 
 
 SECTION III. 
 Of Dr. Reid's Speculations on the Subjed of Perception^ 
 
 IT was chiefly in confequence of the fceptical con- 
 clufions which Biihop Berkeley and Mr. Hume had 
 deduced from the ancient theories of perception, 
 that Dr. Reid was led to call them in queftion ; and 
 he appears to me to have ihewn,'in the moft fatisfac- 
 tory manner, not only that they are perfectly hy- 
 pothetical, but that the fuppolitions they involve, 
 are abfurd and impoflible. His reafonings, on this 
 part of our conftitution, undoubtedly form the moft 
 important acceflion which the philofophy of the hu- 
 man mind has received fmce the time of Mr. Locke. 
 
 But although Dr. Reid has been at nmv.h pains to 
 overturn the old ideal fyftem, he has not ventured 
 to fubftitute any hypothefis of his own in its place. 
 And, indeed, he was too well acquainted with the 
 limits prefcribed to our philofophical inquiries^ to 
 think of indulging his curiofity, in fuch unprofita- 
 ble fpeculations. All, therefore, that he is to be 
 underftood as aiming at, in his inquiries concerning 
 our perceptive powers is, to give a precife ftate of 
 the fad, diverted of all theoretical expreflions ; in 
 order to prevent phLlofophers from impofing on 
 themfelves any longer, by words without meaning ; 
 and to extort from them an acknowledgment, that, 
 with refpetl to the procefs of nature in perception, 
 they are no lefs ignorant than the vulgar. 
 
 According to this view of Dr. Reid*s reafonings, 
 on the fubjec^ of perception, the purpofe to which 
 they are fubfervient may appear to fome to be of 
 no very confiderable importance ; but the truth is, 
 that one of the moft valuable effects of genuine phi- 
 lofophy, is to remind us of the limited powers of 
 the human underftanding ; and to revive thofe nat- 
 
S'if ELEMENTS OF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ural feelings of wonder and admiration, at the fpec- 
 tacle of the univerfe, which are apt to languifti, in 
 confequence of long familiarity. The moft profound 
 difcoveries which are placed within the reach of our 
 refearches lead to a confeffion of human ignorance ; 
 for, while they flatter the pride of man, and increafe 
 his power, by enabUng hi in to trace the fimple and 
 beautiful laws by which phyfical events are regula- 
 ted, they call his attention, at the fame time, to thofe 
 general and ultimate fads which bound the narrow 
 circle of his knowledge ; and which, by evincing to 
 him the operation of powers, whofe nature muft for 
 ever remain unknown, ferve to remind him of the 
 infufficiency of his faculties to penetrate the fecrets 
 of the univerfe. Wherever we dired our in quiries ; 
 whether to the anatomy and phyfiology of animals, 
 to the growth of vegetables, to the chemical attrac- 
 tions and repulfions, or to the motions of the heav- 
 enly bodies ; we perpetually perceive the effects of 
 powers which cannot belong to matter. To a cer- 
 tain length we are uble to proceed ; but in every 
 refearch, we meet with a line, which no induflry 
 nor ingenuity can pafs. It is a line too, which is 
 marked with fulhcient diflinclnefs ; and which no 
 man now thinks of pafling, who has jufl views of 
 the nature and object of philofophy. It forms the 
 feparation between that field which falls under the 
 furvey of the phyfical inquirer, and that unknown 
 region, of which, though it was neceflary that we 
 fliould be affured of the exiftence, in order to lay a 
 foundation for the doctrines of natural theology, it 
 hath not pleafed the Author of the univerfe to re- 
 veal to us the wonders, in this infant flate of our 
 being. It was, in fad, chiefly by tracing out this 
 line, that Lord Bacon did fo much fervice to fcience. 
 Befides this effed, which is common to all our 
 phiiofophical purfuits, of ia.preffing the mind wirli 
 a fenfe of that myflerious agency, cr efficiency, into 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 85 
 
 wLich general laws mufl be refolved ; they have a 
 tendency, in many cafes, to counteracl the influence 
 of habit, in weakening thofe emotions of wonder 
 and of curiofity, w hich the appearances of nature 
 are fo admirably fitted to excite. For this pnrpofe, 
 it is neceilliry, either to lead the attention to fads 
 which are calculated to ftrike by their novelty, or 
 to prefent familiar appearances in a new light ; and 
 fuch are the obvious eifccls of philofophical inquiries ; 
 fometimes extending our views to objecls which are 
 removed from vulgar obfervation ; and fometimes 
 correding our firft apprehenfions with refpect to or- 
 dinary events. — The communication of motion by 
 impulfe, (as I already hinted,) is as unaccountable as 
 any phenomenon we know ; and yet, moil men are 
 difpofed to condder it, as a fact which does not re- 
 fult from will, but from necefilty. To fuch men, it 
 may be ufeful to dired their attention to the uni- 
 verfal law of gravitation ; which, although not more 
 wonderful in itfelf, than the common effeds of im- 
 pulfe, is more fitted, by its novelty, to awaken their 
 attention, and to excite their curiofity. If the theo- 
 ry of Bofcovich (liould ever be cftablifhed on a fat- 
 isfadory foundation, it would have this tendency 
 in a Hill more remarkable degree, by teaching us 
 that the communication of motion by impulfe, 
 (which we are apt to confider as a neceflary truth,) 
 has no exiftence whatever ; and that every cafe in 
 whicli it appears to our fenfes to take place, is a phe- 
 nomenon no lefs inexplicable, than that principle of 
 attriclion which binds together the mod remote 
 parts of the univerfe. 
 
 If fuch, however, be the effects of our philofophi- 
 cal purfuits when fuccefsfully conducted, it mull be 
 confefled that the tendency of imperfcci or errone- 
 ous theories is widely different. By a fpecious fo- 
 lution of infuperable dilliculties, they fo dazzle and 
 bewilder the underflanding, as, at once, to prevent 
 
86 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 US from advancing, with fteadinefs, towards the lim- 
 it of human knowledge ; and from perceiving the 
 exiftence of a region beyond it, into which pliilofo- 
 phy is not permitted to enter. In fuch cafes, it is 
 the bufinefs of genuine fcience to unmaik the impof- 
 ture, and to point out clearly, both to the learned 
 and to the vulgar, what reafon can, and what (he 
 cannot, accomplifti. This, I apprehend, has been 
 done, with refped to the hiftory of our perceptions, 
 
 in the mod fatisfactory manner, by Dr. Reid. ■ 
 
 "When a perfon little accuftomed to metaphyfical 
 fpeculations is told, that, in the cafe of volition, 
 there are certain invifible fluids, propagated from 
 the mind to the organ which is moved ; and 
 that, in the cafe of perception, the exiftence and 
 qualities of the external object are made known to 
 us by means of fpecies, or phantafms, or images, 
 which are prefent to the mind in the fenforium ; he 
 is apt to conclude, that the intercourfe between 
 mind and matter is much lefs myfterious than he had 
 fuppofed ; and that, although thefe expreflions may 
 not convey to him any very diftincl meaning, their 
 import is perfectly underftood by philofophers. It 
 is now, I think, pretty generally acknowledged by 
 phyiiologifts, that the influence of the will over the 
 body, is a myftery which has never yet been unfold- 
 ed ; but, lingular as it m.iy appear. Dr. Reid was 
 the firft perfon who had courage to lay completely 
 afide all the common hypothetical lang;uas;e concern- 
 ing perception, and to exhibit the difficulty in all its 
 magnitude, by a plain ftatement of the facl. To 
 what then, it may be aflced, does this ftatement 
 amount ? — Merely to this ; that the mind is fo for- 
 med, that certain imprefiions produced on our or- 
 gans of fenfe by external objecls, are followed by 
 correfpondent fenfations ; and that thefe fenfations, 
 (which have no more refemblance to the qualitievS of 
 aiatter, than the words of a language have to thp 
 
• OF THE HUMAN MIN0. S7 
 
 things they denote,) are followed by a perception of 
 fhe exiilence and qualities of the bodies by which 
 the imprellions are made ; that all the fteps of this 
 procefs are equally incomprehenfible ; and that, for 
 any thing we can prove to the contrary, the con- 
 nexion between the fenfation and the perception, as 
 well as that between the impreflion and the fenfation, 
 may be both arbitrary : that it is therefore by no 
 means impoilible, that our fenfations may be merely 
 the occafions on which the correfpondent perceptions 
 are excited ; and that at any rate, the confideration 
 of thefe fenfations, which are attributes of mind, can 
 throw no light on the manner in which we acquire 
 our knowledge of the exiftence and qualities of bo- 
 dy. From this view of the fubjecl, it follows, that 
 it is external objeds themfelves, and not any fpecies 
 or images of thefe obje(5ls, that the mind perceives ; 
 and that although, by the conftitution of our nature, 
 certain fenfations are rendered the conftant antece- 
 dents of our perceptions, it is juft as difficult to ex- 
 plain how our perceptions are obtained by their 
 means, as it would be, upon the fuppofition, that 
 the mind were all at once infpired with them, with- 
 out any concomitant fenfations whatever. 
 
 Thefe remarks are general, and apply to all our 
 various perceptions ; and they evidently flrike at 
 the root of all the common theories upon the fub- 
 jed. The laws, however, which regulate thefe per- 
 ceptions, are different in the cafe of the different fen- 
 fes, and form a very curious object of philofophical 
 inquiry. — Thofe, in particular, which regulate the 
 acquired perceptions of fight, lead to feme very in- 
 terefling and important fpeculations ; and, I think, 
 have never yet been explained in a manner com- 
 pletely fatisfoclbry. To treat of them in detail, does 
 not fall under the plan of this work ; but I fliall have 
 occafion to make a few remarks on them, in tlie 
 chapter on Conception. 
 
88 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 In oppofltion to what I h;ive here obferved on the 
 inaportance of Dr. Reid's fpecuLitions concerning 
 our perceptive powers, I am fenfibie it may be ur- 
 ged, that they amount merely to a negative difcovery ; 
 and it is poflible, that fome may even be forward to 
 remark, that it was unneceilary to employ fo much 
 Jabor and ingenuity as he has done, to overthrow 
 an hypothecs of which a plain account would have 
 been a fufficient refutation. — To luch perfons, I 
 would beg leave to fuggeft, that, although, in confe- 
 quenceof the jufter .views in pneumatology, which 
 BOW begin to prevail, (chiefly, I believe, in confe- 
 quence of Dr. Reid's writings,) the ideal fyflem 
 may appear to many readers unphilofophical and 
 puerile ; yet the cafe was very different w^hen this 
 author entered upon his inquiries : and I may even 
 venture to add, that few politive difcoveries, in the 
 whole hiftory of fcience, can be mentioned, w^hich 
 found a jufter claim to literary reputation, than to 
 have detected, fo cle2.rly and unanf\^'erably, the 
 fallacy of an hypothelis, which has defcended to us 
 from the earlieft ages of philofophy : and which, in 
 modern times, has not only ferved to Berkeley and 
 Hume as the bafis of their fceptical fyilems, but was 
 adopted as an indisputable iratii by Locke, bv 
 Clarke, and by Newton. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of the Origin of our Knowledge. 
 
 THE philofophers who endeavored to explain the 
 operations of the human mind by the theory ot iaeas, 
 and who took for grartfd, that in every exertion of 
 thought there exiiis ii) ihe mind fomeobjcddii incl 
 from the thinking fubltance were naturally led u> in- 
 quire whence thele ideas derive their origin ; 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 89 
 
 particular, whether they are conveyed to the mind 
 from without by means of the fenfes, or from part of 
 its original furniture ? 
 
 Wich refpect to this queflion, the opinions of the 
 ancients were various ; but as the influence of thefe 
 opinions on the prevailing fystems of the prefent age 
 is not very confiderable, it is not neceiliry, for any of 
 the purpofes I have in view in this work, to conlid- 
 er them particularly. The moderns, too, have been 
 much divided on the fubjecl ; ft)me holding with 
 Des Cartes, that the mind is furniihed with certain 
 innate ideas ; others, with Mr. Locke, that all our 
 ideas may be traced from fenfation and reflection ; 
 and many, (efpecially among the later metaphyficians 
 in France,) that they may be all traced from fenfa- 
 tion alone. 
 
 Of thefe theories, that of Mr. Locke deferves more 
 particularly our attention ; as it has ferved as the 
 bafis of moft of the metaphyfical fyftems which have 
 appeared fince his time ; and as the difference be- 
 tween it and the theory which derives all our ideas 
 from fenfation alone, is rather apparent than real. 
 
 In order to convey a juft notion of Mr. Locke's 
 do(5trine concerning the origin of our ideas, it is ne- 
 ceflary to remark, that he refers to fenfation, all the 
 ideas which we are fuppofed to receive by the exter- 
 nal fenfes ; our ideas, for example, of colours, pf 
 founds, of hardnefs, of extenfion, of motion ; and, 
 in fliort, of all the qualities and modes of matter ; 
 to reflectioill the ideas of our own mental operations 
 which we derive from confcioufnefs ; our ideas, for 
 example, of memory, of imagination, of voHtion, of 
 pleafure, and of pain. Thefe two fources, according 
 to him, furnifli us with all our fimple ideas, and the 
 only power which the mind poflcffes over them, is 
 to perform certain operations, in the way of com- 
 polition, abftradi()n,generalifition. &c on the mare- 
 rials which it thus colleds in the courfe of its experi- 
 M 
 
.90 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ence. The laudable defire of Mr. Locke, to intro- 
 duce precifion and perfpicuity into metaphyfical 
 fpeculations, and his anxiety to guard the mind 
 againft error in general, naturally prepc ffefled him 
 in favor of a dodrine, which, when compared with 
 thofe of his predeceflbrs, was intelligible and fimple ; 
 and which, by fuggefting a method, apparently eafy 
 and palpable, of analyfing our knowledge into its 
 elementary principles, feemed to furnifh an antidote 
 againft thofe prejudices which had been favoured by 
 the hypothecs of innate ideas. It is now a confid- 
 erable time fince this fundamental principle of Mr. 
 Locke's fyftem began to lofe its aut^rity in England j 
 and the fceptical conclufions, whicWit had been em- 
 ployed to fupport by fome later writers, furnifhed 
 its opponents with very plaufible arguments againft 
 it. The iate learned Mr. Harris, in particular, fre- 
 quently mentions this doctrine of Mr. Locke, and 
 always in terms of high indignation. " Mark," (fays 
 he, in one paffage,) " the order cf things, according 
 *' to the account of our later metaphyficians. Firft, 
 *' comes that huge body, the fenfible world. Then 
 " this, and its attributes, hegetfenfible ideas. Then, 
 " out of fenfible ideas, by a kind of lopping and pru- 
 " ning, are made ideas intelligible, whether fpecific 
 *' or general. Thus, fliould they admit that mind 
 *' was coeval with body ; yet, till body gave it ideas, 
 " and awakened its dormant powers, it could at beft 
 *' have been nothing more than a fort of dead capa- 
 " city ; for innate ideas it could not po^bly have 
 " any." And, in another paffage : " For my own 
 *' part, when I read the detail about fenfation and re- 
 *' fledion, and am taught the procefs at large how 
 *' my ideas are all generated, I feem to view the hu- 
 " man foul, in the light of a crucible, where truths 
 " are produced by a kind of logical chemiftry." 
 
 If Dr. Reid's reafonings on the fubjed: of ideas be 
 admitted, all thefe fpeculations with refpecl to their 
 
 mm 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 51 
 
 origin fall to the ground ; and the queftion to which 
 they rela' e, is reduced merely to a queftion of facl ; 
 concerning the occalions on which the mind is Hrft 
 le^l to form thofe fimple notions into which our 
 thoughts may be analyfed, and which may be con- 
 lidered as the principles or elements of human 
 knowledge With refped to many of thefe notions, 
 this inquiry involves no difficulty. No one, for ex- 
 ample, can be at a lofs to afcertain the occalions on 
 which the notions of colours and founds are fi^-ft for- 
 med by the mind : for thefe notions are confined to 
 individuals who are pofleffed of particular fenfes, and 
 cannot, by any combination of words, be conveyed 
 to thofe who never enjoyed the ufe of them. The 
 hiftory of our notions of extenfion and figure, (which 
 may be fuggefted to the mind by the exercife either 
 of fight or of touch,) is not altogether fo obvious ; 
 and accordingly, it has been the fubjecl of various 
 controverfies. To trace the origin of thefe, and of 
 our other iimple notions with refped: to the qualities 
 of matter ; or, in other words, to defcribe the oc- 
 calions on which, by the laws of our nature, they 
 are fuggefted to the mind, is one of the leading ob- 
 jects of Dr. Reid's inquiry, in his analyfis of our ex- 
 ternal fenfes ; in which he carefully avoids every hy- 
 pothefis with refpecl to the inexplicable phenomena 
 of perception and of thought, and confines himfelf 
 fcrupuloufly to a literal ftatement of fads. — Similar 
 inquiries to thefe, may be propofed, concerning the 
 occafions on which we form the notions of iime^ of 
 motion, of number, of caufaiion, and an infinite variety 
 of others. Thus, it has been obferved by different 
 authors, that every perception of change fuggefts to 
 the mind the notion of a caufe, without which that 
 change could not have happened. ,Dr. Reid remarks, 
 that, without the faculty of memory, our perceptive 
 powers could never have led us to form the idea of 
 motion, I fliall afterwards fliew, in the fequel of this 
 
9^ ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 work, that without the fame faculty of memory, we 
 never could have formed the notion of time ; and 
 that without the faculty of abftradion, we could not 
 have formed the notion of number. — Such inquiries, 
 with refpedl to the origin of our knowledge, are 
 curious and important ; and if conduced with judg- 
 ment, they may lead to the moft certain conclu lions ; 
 as they aim at nothing more than to afcertain fadls, 
 which, although not obvious to fuperficial obfervers, 
 may yet be difcovered by patient inveftigation. 
 
 From the remarks which have been juft made on 
 our notions of titne, of motion, and of number, it is 
 evident, that the inquiry concerning the origin of 
 human knowledge cannot poflibly be difculTed at the 
 commencement of fuch a work as this; but that it 
 muft be refumed in different parts of it, as thofe fa- 
 culties of the mind come under our view, with 
 which the formation of our different (impie notiong 
 is conneded. 
 
 With refped to the general queftion. Whether 
 all our knowledge niay be ultimately traced trom 
 our fenfations ? 1 fiiall only obferve at prefent, that 
 the opinion we form concerning it, is of n^uch lefs 
 cbnfequence than is commonly fuppofed. That the 
 mind cannot, without the groffefl abfurdity, be con- 
 fidered in the light of a receptacle which is gradual- 
 ly furnifhed from without, by materials introduced 
 by the channel of the fenfes ; nor in that of a tabula 
 rufa., upon which copies or refemblances of things 
 external are imprinted ; I have already Ihewn at 
 fuflicient length. Although, therefore, we fliould 
 acquiefce in the conclufion, that, without our organs 
 of fenfe, the mind muff have remained deftitute of 
 knowledge, this conceilion could have no tendency 
 whatever to favour the principles of materialifm ; as 
 it implies nothing more than that the impreffions 
 made on our fenies by external objeds, furniih the 
 Qccafions on which the mind, by the laws of its con- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 05 
 
 ftitution, is led to perceive the qualities of the mate- 
 rial world, and to exert all the different modifica- 
 tions of thought of which it is capable. 
 
 From the very fli.';ht view of the fubje^t, howev- 
 er, which has been already given, it is fufficiently ev- 
 ident, that this dodlrine, which refers the origin of 
 all our knowledge to the occa(it)ns furniflied by ferfe, 
 mud be received with many limitations. "1 hat th'-fe 
 ideas, which Mr. Locke calls ideas of refledlion, (or, 
 in other words, the notions which we form of the 
 fubje^ts of our own confcioulnefs,) are not fuggeft- 
 ed to the mind immediately by the fenfations arif- 
 ing from the ufe of our organs of perception, is 
 granted on all hands; and, therefore, the anount 
 of the doclrine now mentioned, is nothing more 
 than this ; that the firft occaiions on which our va- 
 rious intellectual faculties arc exercifed, are furrifh- 
 ed by the impreflions made on our organs of dnie ; 
 and confequently, that, without thefe impreflions, it 
 would have been impoffible for us to arrive at the 
 knowledge of our faculties. Agreeably to this ex- 
 planation of the doctrine, it may undoubtedly be 
 faid with plaufibility, (and, I am inclined to believe, 
 with truth,) that the occaiions on which all our no- 
 tions are formed, are furniflied either immediately 
 or ultimately by fenfe ; but, if I am not much mil- 
 taken, this is not the meaning which is commonly 
 annexed to the dodrine, either by its advocates or 
 their opponents. One thing at leaft is obvious, th;it, 
 in this fenfe, it does not lead to thofe confequerces 
 which have interefted one party of philofophers in 
 its defence, and another in its refutation. 
 
 There is another very important confideration which 
 deferves our attention in this argument: that,even on 
 the fuppofition that certain iir.prelTions on our organs 
 of fenfe are neceffary to awaken the mind to a con- 
 fcioufnefs of its own exiftence, and to give rife to the 
 exercife of its various faculties j yet all this might 
 
y4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 have happened, without our having any knowledge 
 of the qualities, or even of the exiftence, of the ma- 
 terial world. . To facilitate the admiflion of this pro- 
 pofition, let us liippofe a being formed in every oth- 
 er refpecl like man ; but pofleffed of no fenfes, ex- 
 cepting thofe of hearing and fmelling. I make choice 
 of thele two fenfes, becaufe 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 exiftence of things external. All that 
 we could poflibly have inferred from our occafional 
 fenfations of fmell and found, would have been, that 
 there exifted fome unknown caufe by*' which they 
 were produced. 
 
 Let us fuppofe then a particular fenfation to be ex- 
 cited in the mind of fuch a being. The moment 
 this happens, he muft necelTarily acquire the knowl- 
 edge of two facts at once : that of the exiftence of 
 the fenfation ; and that of his own exiftence^ as a fenti- 
 ent being. After the fenfation is at an end, he can 
 remember he felt it ; he can conceive that he feels it a- 
 gain. If he has felt a variety of different fenfations, 
 he can compare them together in refpecl of the pleaf- 
 ure or the pain they have aff*orded hini ; and will 
 naturally defire the return of the agreeable fenfations, 
 and be afraid oi the return of thofe which were pain- 
 ful. If the fenfations of fmell and found are both 
 excited in his mind at the fame time, he can attend 
 to either of them he chufes, and withdraw his at- 
 tention from the other ; or he can withdraw his at- 
 tention from both, and fix it on fome fenfation he has 
 felt formerly. In this manner, he might be led, 
 merely by fenfations exifting in his mind^ and con- 
 veying to him no information concerning matter, 
 to exercife many of his moft important faculties ; 
 and amidft all thefe different modifications and ope- 
 rations of his mind, he would feel, with irrefiftible 
 convidion, that they all belong to one and the fame 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 95 
 
 fentient and intelligent being ; or, in other words, 
 that they ar« all modifications and operations of 
 himfelf. — I fay nothing, at prefent, of the various 
 fimple notions, (or fimple ideas, as they are com- 
 monly called,) which would arife in his mind ; for 
 example, the ideas of number^ of duration^ of caufe and 
 effeByOiperfonal identity; all of which, though per- 
 fedly unlike his fenfati(Mis, could not fail to be fug- 
 gefted by means of them. Such a being, then, might 
 kn^w all that we know of mind at prefent ; and as 
 his language would be appropriated to mind folely, 
 and not borrowed, by analogy, from material phe- 
 nomena, he would even poffefs important advanta- 
 ges over us in conducing the ftudy of pneumatol- 
 
 From thefe obfervations it fufEciently appears, 
 what is the real amount of the celebrated doctrine, 
 which refers the origin of all our knowledge to our 
 fenfations ; and that, even granting it to be true, 
 (which, for my own part, I am difpofed to do, in the 
 fenfe in which I have now explained it,) it would by 
 no means follow from it, that our notions of the op- 
 erations of mind, nor even many of thofe notions 
 which are commonly fuggefted to us, in the jirji in- 
 fiance^ by the perception of external objects, are ne^ 
 cejfarily fubfequent to our knowledge of the qualities, 
 or even of the exiftence, of matter. 
 
 The remarks which I have offered on this dodrine 
 will not appear fuperfluous to thofe who recollect 
 that, although it has, for many years paft, been a 
 fubjed of controverfy in England, it continues ftill 
 to be implicitly adopted by the bell philofophical 
 writers in France ; and that it has been einployed 
 by fome of them to fupport the fyftem of material- 
 ifm ; and by others to (hew, that the intellectual 
 diftin(5tions between man and brutes, ariie entirely 
 from the differences in their animal orgimization, 
 and in their powers of external perception. 
 
96 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 CHAPTER SECOND. 
 Of Attention. 
 
 AVHEN we are deeply engaged in converfation, 
 or occupied with any fpeculation that is interefting 
 to the mind, the furrounding objedls either do not 
 produce in us the perceptions they are fitted to ex- 
 cite ; or thefe perceptions are inftantly forgotten. 
 A clock, for example, may ilrike in the fame room 
 with US5 without our being able, next moment, to 
 recoiled whether we heard it or not. 
 
 In thefe, and limilar cafes, I believe, it is com- 
 monly taken for granted, that we really do not per- 
 ceive the external objed. From fome analogous 
 fads, however, I am inclined to fufped that this 
 opinion is not well founded. A perfon who falls 
 afleep at church, and is fuddenly awaked, is unable 
 to recoiled the iaft words fpoken by the preacher ; 
 or even to recoiled that he was fpeaking at all. And 
 yet, that fleep does not fufpend entirely the powers 
 of perception, may be inferred from this, that if the 
 preacher were to make a fudden paufe in his dif- 
 courfe, every perfon in the congregation who was 
 afleep would inftantly awake. In this cafe, there- 
 fore, it appears, that a perfon may be confcious of a 
 perception, without being able afterwards to recolr 
 led it. 
 
 Many other inllances of the fame general fad 
 might be produced. When we read a book, (efpe- 
 cially in a language which is not perfedly familiar to 
 us,) we muft perceive fucccflively every different 
 letter, and muft afterwards combine thefe letters in- 
 to fylldbles and words, before we comprehend the 
 meaning of a fentence. This procefs, however, pas- 
 fes through the mind, without leaving any trace in 
 the memory. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 97 
 
 It has been proved by optical writers, that, in per- 
 ceiving the diftances of vifible objects from the eye, 
 there is a judgment of the underflanding antecedent 
 to the perception. In fome cafes this judgment is 
 founded on a variety of circumftances combined to- 
 gether ; the conformation of the organ neceflary 
 for diftind; vifion ; the incUnation of the optic axes ; 
 the diftincVnefs or indiftindnefs of the minute parts 
 of the objed: ; the diftances of the intervening ob- 
 jeds from each other, and from the eye ; and, per- 
 haps, on other circumftances befidesthefe : and yet, 
 in confequence of our familiarity with fuch procef- 
 fes from our earlieft infancy, the perception feems 
 to be inftantaneous ; and it requires much reafon- 
 ing, to convince perfons unaccuftomed to philofoph- 
 ical fpeculations, that the fad: is otherwife. 
 
 Another inftance of a ftill more familiar nature, 
 may be of ufe for the farther^illuftration of the fame 
 fubjed. It is well known, that our thoughts do not 
 fucceed each other at random, but according to cer- 
 tain laws of aftbciation, which modern philofophers 
 have been at much pains to inveftigate. It frequent- 
 ly, however, happens, particularly when the mind 
 is animated by converfation, that it makes a fudden 
 tranlition from one fubjed: to another, which, at firft 
 view, appears to be very remote from it ; and that 
 it requires a confiderable degree of refledion, to ena- 
 ble the perfon himfelf by whom the tranfition was 
 made, to afcertain what were the intermediate ideas. 
 A curious inftance of fuch a fudden tranfition is 
 mentioned by Hobbes in his Leviathan. " In a com- 
 *' pany,*' (fays he,) " in which the converfation turn- 
 *' ed on tlie civil war, what could be conceived more 
 " impertinent, than for a perfon to afk abruptly, 
 " What was the value of a Roman denarius ? On a 
 " little rciledion, however, I was eafily able to trace 
 *' the train of thought ^a hich fuggefted the queftion : 
 " for the original fuljedl of diicourie naturally in- 
 N 
 
98 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 *' troduced the hiftory of the King, and of the treach- 
 " ery of thofe who furrendered his perfon to his en- 
 '' emies ; this again introduced the treachery of Ju- 
 *• das Ifcariot, and the f^m of money which he re- 
 *' ceived for his reward. — And all this train of i- 
 " deas," fays Hobbes, " palTed through the n)ind of 
 " the fpeaker in a twinkling, in confequence of the 
 *' velocity of thought." It is by no means improb- 
 able, that if the fpeaker himfelf had been interroga- 
 ted about the connection of ideas, which led him a- 
 iide from the original topic of difcourfe, he would 
 have found himfelf, at firft, at a lofs for an anfwer. 
 
 In the inftances which have been laft mentioned, 
 we have alfo a proof, that a perception, or an idea, 
 which palTes through the mind, without leaving any 
 trace in the memory, may yet ferve to introduce 
 other ideas connected with it by the laws of aflbcia- 
 lion. Other proofs of this important fact ihall be 
 mentioned afterwards. 
 
 When a perception or an idea paffes through the 
 mind, without our being able to recoiled it next 
 moment, the vulgar themfelves afcribe our want of 
 memory to a want of attention. Thus, in the in- 
 ftance already mentioned, of the clock, a perfon, up- 
 on obferving that the minute hand had juft paffec 
 twelve, would naturally fay, that he did not atten( 
 to the clock when it was ftriking. There feemsj 
 therefore, to be a certain effort of the mind upoaj 
 which, even in the judgment of the vulgar, memo-j 
 ry in fome meafure depends ; and which they dif- 
 tinguifh by the name of attention. 
 
 The connexion between attention and memory, 
 has been remarked by many authors. " Nee dubi- 
 " urn eft," (fays Quindilian, fpeaking of memory,) 
 " quin plurimum in hac parte, valeat mentis inten- 
 *' tio, et velut acies luminum a profpeclu rerum quas| 
 " intuetur non averfa.'* The fame obfervation has 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. i)9 
 
 Ibeen made by Locke,* and by mod of the writers 
 on the fubjed of education. 
 
 But although the conne6lion between attention 
 and memory has been frequently remarked in gene- 
 ral terms, I do not recoiled that the power of atten- 
 tion has been mentioned by any of the writers on 
 pneumatology, in their enumeration of the faculties 
 of the mind f ; nor has it been confidered by any one, 
 fo far as I know, as of fufficient importance to de- 
 ferve a particular examination. Helvetius, indeed, 
 in his very ingenious work, De I'Efprit, has entitled 
 one of his chapters, De Tinegale capacite d' Atten- 
 tion ; but what he confiders under this article, is 
 chiefly that capacity of patient inquiry, (or as he 
 calls it, une attentmifuivie^) upon which philofophical 
 genius feems in a great meafure to depend. He has 
 alfo remarked,! with the writers already mentioned, 
 that the impreflion which any thing makes on the 
 memory, depends much on the degree of attention 
 
 Memory depends much on attention and repetition." Locke's 
 , b. i. chap. X. 
 
 t Some important observations on the subject of attention occur 
 in different parts of Dr. lleid'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 au- 
 thor we are indebted for the remark, that attention to things ex- 
 ternal, is properly called vhservatJon; and attention to the subjects 
 of our consciousness, rejlectlon. He has also explained the causee of 
 the peculiar difficulties which accompany this last exertion of the 
 mind, and which form the chief obstacles to the progress of pneu- 
 matology. I shall have occasion, in another part of this work, to 
 treat of habits of inattention in general, and to suggest some prac- 
 tical hints with respect to the culture both of the powers of obser- 
 vation and reflection. The view which ] propose to take of at- 
 tention at present, is extremely limited ; and is intended merely to 
 comprehend such general principles as are necessary to prepare the 
 reader for the chapters which are to follow. 
 
 X " C'est Pattention, plus ou moins grande, qui grave plus au 
 ** moins prpfondement les objets dans la memoire^." 
 
]00 ELEMENTS 0? THB J>H1LOSOPHY 
 
 we give to it ; but he has taken no notice of that ef- 
 fort which is abfohitely effential to the lovveft degree 
 of memory. It is this effort that I propofe to con- 
 lider at prefent ; — not thofe different degrees of at- 
 tention which imprint things more or lefs deeply on 
 the mind, but that ad or effort without which we 
 hav^e no recolieclion or memory whatever. 
 
 With refpe^l to the nature of this effort, it is per- 
 haps impoffible for us to obtain much fatisf action. 
 We often fpeak of greater and lefs degrees of atten- 
 tion ; and, I believe, in thefe cafes, conceive the 
 mind (if I may ufe the exprelTion) to exert itfelf 
 with different degrees of energy. I am doubtful, 
 however, if this expreflion conveys any diflin^l mean- 
 ing. For my own part, I am inclined to fuppofe, 
 (though I would by no means be undorflood to 
 ^eak with confidence,) that it is effential to memo- 
 ry, that the perception or the idea that we would 
 wifh to remember, fliould remain in the mind for a 
 certain fpace of time, and fhould be contemplated 
 by it exclufively of every thing elfe ; and that atten- 
 tion confiits partly (perhaps entirely) in the effort 
 of the mind, to detain the idea or the perception, 
 and to exclude the other objeds that folicit its no- 
 tice. 
 
 Notwithflanding, however, the difficulty of afcer- 
 taining, in what this ad: of the mind confifls, every 
 perfon mufl be fatisfied of its reality from his own 
 conicioufnefs ; and of its effential connexion with 
 the power of memory. I have already mentioned 
 feveral inflances of ideas pafling through the mind, 
 without our being able to recollecfc them next mo- 
 ment. Thefe inllances were produced, merely to 
 illuftrate the meaning I annex to the word atten- 
 tion ; and to recall to the recolledion of the reader, 
 a few flriking cafes, in which the poflibility of our 
 carrying on a procef s of thought, which we are una- 
 ble to attend to at the time, or to remember after- 
 
OP ttiE HUMAN MIND. 101 
 
 wards, is acknowledged in the received fyftems of 
 philofophy. I (hall now mention fome other phe- 
 nomena, which appear to me to be very iimilar to 
 thefe, and to be explicable in the fame manner ; al- 
 though they have commonly been referred to very 
 different principles. 
 
 The wonderful effed: of pra6lice in the formation 
 of habits, has been often, and juftly, taken notice of, 
 as one of the moft curious circumftances, in the hu- 
 man conftitution. A mechanical operation, for ex« 
 ample, which we at firft performed with the utmoft 
 difficulty, comes, in time, to be lo familiar to us, 
 that we are able to perform it without the fmalleft 
 danger of miftake ; even while the attention ap- 
 pears to be completely engaged with other fubjecls. 
 The truth feems to be, that in confequence of the 
 aflbciation of ideas, the different fleps of the procefs 
 prefent themfelves fucceflively to the thoughts, 
 without any recollection on our part, and with a 
 degree of rapidity proportioned to the length of our 
 experience ; fo as to fave us entirely the trouble of 
 hefitation and reflection, by giving us every moment 
 a precife and fteady notion of the effed to be pro- 
 duced.* 
 
 In the cafe of fome operations which are very fa- 
 miliar to us, we find ourfelves unable to attend to, 
 or to recollect, the a<51:s of th^ will by which they 
 were preceded ; and accordingly, fome philofophers 
 of great eminence have called in queflion the exift- 
 ence of fuch volitions ; and have reprefented our 
 habitual adions as involuntary and mechanical. But 
 
 * I do not mean by this observation, to call in question the ef. 
 fects 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 &s 
 with his right. —The effects of practice, therefore, it should seem, 
 ire produced partly on the mind, and partly on the body. 
 
i02 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 furely the circumftance of our inability to recolle£l 
 our volitions, does not authoriCc us to difpute their 
 poffibility ; any more than our inability to attend 
 to the procefs of the mind, in eftimating the diftance 
 of an objecl: from the eye, authorifes us to af- 
 firm that the perception is inftantaneous. Nor does 
 it add any force to the objection to urge, that there 
 are inftances in which we fmd it diflicult, or per- 
 haps impolTible, to check our habitual actions by a 
 contrary volition. For it mufi: be remembered, that 
 this contrary volition does not remain with us ftead- 
 ily during the whole operation ; but is merely a 
 general intention or refolution, which is baniflied 
 from the m nd, as foon as the occafion prefents it- 
 felf, with which the habitual train of our tlioughts 
 and volitions is afTociated.* 
 
 It may indeed be faid, that thefe obfervations on- 
 ly prove thepoflibility that our habitual actions may 
 be voluntary. But if this be admitted, nothing more 
 can well be required ; for furely, if thefe phenom- 
 ena are clearly explicable from the known and 
 acknowledged laws of the human mind, it would be 
 unphilofophical to devife a new principle, on pur- 
 pose to account for them. The doctrine, therefore, 
 which I have laid down with refpect to the nature 
 
 * The solution of this difficulty, which is given by Dr. Porter- 
 fieldjis somewhat curious. 
 
 " Such is the power of custom and habit, that many actions, 
 " which are no doubt voluntary, and proceed from owr mind, are 
 ** in certain circumstances rendered necessary, so as to appear alto- 
 ** gether mechanical, and independent of our wills ; but it does not 
 •* from thence follow, that ov mind is not concerned in such mo- 
 ** tions, but only that it has imposed upon itself a law, whereby it 
 " regulates and governs them to the greatest advantage. 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 but 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, IT 
 
 I 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 105 
 
 of habits, is by no means founded on hypothefis, as 
 has been objected to me by fome of my friends ; but, 
 on the contrary, the charge of hypothecs falls on 
 thofe who attempt to explain them, by faying that 
 they are mechanical or automatic ; a dodrine which, 
 if it is at all intelligible, muft be underftood as im- 
 plying the exiftence of fome law of our conttitution, 
 which has been hitherto unobferved by philofophers ; 
 and to which, I believe, it will be difficult to find any 
 thing analogous in our conftitution. 
 
 In the foregoing obfervations, I have had in view 
 a favourite doctrine of Dr. Hartley's ; which has 
 been maintained alfo of late by a much higher au- 
 thority, I mean Dr. Reid. 
 
 " Habit"* (fays this ingenious author) " differs 
 " from inftindt, not in its nature, but in i:s origin ; 
 *' the laft being natural, the firil acquired. Both 
 " operate without will or intention, without thought, 
 *' and therefore may be called mecanical principles.** 
 In another paffage,t he exprefles hinifeif thus ; " I 
 *' conceive it to be a part of our conftitution, that 
 ** what we have been accuftomed to do, we acquire 
 *' not only a facility but a pronenefs to do on like 
 " occafions ; fo that it requires a particular will or 
 " effort to forbear it, but to do it requires, %rory often, 
 « no will at all." 
 
 The fame dodrine is laid down Hill more explicit- 
 ly by Dr. Hartley. 
 
 " Suppofc," (fays he,) " a perfon who has a perfeft- 
 " ly voluntary command over his fingers, to begin to 
 " learn to play on the harpfichord. The firlt ftep is 
 *' to move his fingers from key to key, with a flow 
 *' motion, looking at the notes, and exerting an ex- 
 " prefs act of volition in every motion. By degrees 
 ' tlie motions ding to one another, and to the inv 
 
 * Essays on the Active Powers of Man, p. 128. 
 t Ibid.' p. 130. 
 
104 ELEMENTS OF THE PHULOSOPHV ' 
 
 " preffions of the notes, in the way of aflbciation, fo 
 " often mentioned, the acls of volition growing lefs 
 " and lefs exprefs all the time, till at laft they become 
 " evanefcent and imperceptible. For an expert per- 
 " former will play from notes, or ideas laid up in 
 " the memory, and at the fame time carry on a quite 
 « different train of thoughts in his mind ; or even 
 " hold a converfiuion with another. Whence we 
 " may conclude, that there is no intervention of the 
 *• idea, or ftate of mind, called Will.*** Cafes of 
 this fort, Hartley calls " tranfitions of voluntary ac- 
 " tions into automatic ones.'* 
 
 I cannot help thinking it more philofophlcal tCf 
 fuppofe, that thofe actions which are originally vol- 
 untary, always continue fo ; although, in the cafe of 
 operations which are become habitual in confequence 
 of long practice, we may not be able to recollect every 
 different volition. Thus, in the cafe of a performer 
 on the harpfichord, I apprehend, that there is an aft 
 of the will preceding every motion of every finger, 
 although he may not be able to recolle6t thefe voli- 
 tions afterwards ; and although he may, during the 
 time of his performance, be employed in carrying on 
 a feparate train of thought. For, it muft be ren ark- 
 ed, that the moft rapid performer can, when he piea- 
 fes, play fo Howly, as to be able to attend to, and to 
 recoiled, every feparate aft of his will in the various 
 movements of his fingers ; and he can gradually ac- 
 celerate the rate of his execution, till he is unable to 
 recolleft thefe afts. Now, in this inftance, ore o< 
 two fuppolitions mufl be made ; the one is, that th^ 
 operations in the two cafes are carried on precifei] 
 in the fame manner, and differ only in the degree oi 
 rapidity ; and that when this rapidity exceeds a cer^ 
 tain rate, the afts of the will are too monu r tary to 
 leave any impreflion on the memory. — The other is, 
 
 * Vol. i. p. 108, 109. .. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. J 05 
 
 that when the rapidity exceeds a certain rate, the 
 operation is taken entirely out of our hands ; and 
 is carried on by fome unknown power, of the nature 
 of which we are as ignorant, as of the caufe of the 
 circulation of the blood, or of the motion of the in- 
 teftines.* The laft fuppofition feems to me to be 
 fomewhat fimilar tcT that of a man who fhould main- 
 tain, that, although a body projected with a mode- 
 rate velocity, is leen to pafs through all the interme- 
 diate fpaces in moving from one place to another, 
 yet we are not intitled to conclude, that this happens 
 when the body moves fo quickly as to become invis- 
 ible to the eye. The former fuppofition is fupp;)rt- 
 ed by the analogy of many other facts in our confti- 
 tution. Of fome of thefe, I have already taken no- 
 tice ; and it would be eafy to add to the number. — 
 An expert accountant, for example, can fum up, al- 
 moft with a iingle glance of his eye, a long column 
 of figures. He can tell the fum, with unerring 
 certainty j while, at the fame time, he is unable to 
 recoiled any one of the figures of which that fum h 
 compofed ; and yet nobody doubts, that each of thefe 
 figures has paffed through his mind, or fuppofes, 
 
 * This seems to have been the opinion of Bishop Berkeley, whose 
 doctrine concerning the nature of our habitual actions, coincides 
 with that 6f the two philosophers already quoted. " It must be 
 ** owned, we are not conscious of the systole and diastole of the 
 ** heart, or the nnotion of the diaphragm. It may not, neverthe- 
 " less, be thence inferred, that imknowing nature can act regularly 
 « as well as ourselves. The true inference is, that the self-think- 
 •< ing 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 under- 
 " stands 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."— bee a Treatise, entitled, Sirisy p. 123. 2d edit. 
 
 o 
 
106 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 that when the rapidity of the procefs becomes fo- 
 great that he is unable to rccolleft the various fteps 
 of it, he obtains the refult by a fort of infpiration. 
 This lail: fuppofition would be perfectly analogous to 
 Dr. Hartley's dodrine concerning the nature of our 
 habitual exertions. 
 
 The only plaufible objecllon which, I think, can 
 be offered to the principles I have endeavoured to 
 eftabiifh on this fubjecl, is founded on the aftonifh- 
 ing, and almoft incredible rapidity, they neceffarily 
 fuppofe in our intelledluai operations.— When a per- 
 fon, for example, reads aloud ; there muft, accord- 
 ing to this dodrine, be a feparate volition preceding 
 the articulation of every letter ; and it has been 
 found, by actual trial,* that it is poflible to pro- 
 nounce about two thoufand letters in a minute. Is 
 it reasonable to fuppofe, that the mind is capable of 
 fo many different a<5ts in an interval of time fo very 
 inconfiderable ? 
 
 With refpect to this objection, it may be obferved, 
 in the firft place, that all arguments againft the fore- 
 going doctrine with refpecl to our habitual exertions, 
 in fo far as they are founded on the inconceivable ra- 
 pidity which they fuppofe in our intellectual opera- 
 tions, apply equally to the common doctrine con- 
 cerning our perception of diftance by the eye. But 
 this is not all. To what does the fuppofition amount, 
 which is conlidered as fo incredible ? Only to this, 
 that the mind is fo formed, as to be ablle to carry on 
 certain intelledual proceffes, in intervals of time toa 
 
 * Tncredibili velocitate peraguntur et repetuntur musculorum 
 contractiones. Docent cursus, praesertim quadrupedum ; vel^ 
 lingua, quae quadringinta vocabula, forte bis raille literas. expr 
 rait, spatio temporis quod tnin turn vocare solemus, quamvis a( 
 multas litras exprimendas plures musculorum contractiones requi- 
 rantur. 
 
 Conspectus Meduince Theoretic^, Aud. Jac. Gregory, 
 Mit, altera, p« 171. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 107 
 
 Ihort to be cftirnated by our faculties ; a fuppofition 
 which, fo far from being extravagant, is fupported 
 by the analogy of many of our moft certain conclu- 
 iions in natural philofophy. The difcoveries made 
 by the microfcope, have laid open to our fenfes a 
 world of wonders, the exiftence of which hardly any 
 man would have admitted upon inferior evidence ; 
 and have gradually prepared the way for thofe phy- 
 fical fpeculations, which explain fome of the moft 
 extraordinary phenomena of nature, by means of 
 modifications of matter far too fubtile for the ex- 
 amination of our organs. Why then fliould it be 
 confidered as unphilofophical, after having demon- 
 ftrated the exiftence of various intellectual procefles 
 which efcape our attention in confequence of their 
 rapidity, to carry the fuppofition a little farther, in 
 order to bring under the known laws of the human 
 conftitution, a clafs of mental operations, which muft 
 otherwife remain perfedly inexplicable ? Surely, our 
 ideas of time are merely relative, as well as our ideas 
 of extention ; nor is there any good reafon for 
 doubting, that, if our powers of attention and mem- 
 ory were more perfe6t than they are, fo as to give 
 us the fame advantage in examining rapid events, 
 which the microfcope gives for examining minute 
 portions of extenfion, they would enlarge our views 
 with refpecl to the intellectual world, no lefs than 
 that inftrument has with refped to the materirJ. 
 
 It may cantribute to remove, ftill more completely, 
 fome of the fcruples which are naturally fuggefted 
 by the foregoing dodrine, to remark, that, as the 
 great ufe of attention and memory is to enable us to 
 treafure up the refults of our experience and reflec- 
 tion for the future regulation of our conduct, it 
 would have anfwered no purpofe for the author of 
 our nature to have extended their province to thofe 
 intervals of time, which we have no occafion to efti- 
 mate in the common bufinefe of life. All the Intel- 
 
, 108 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPPIY 
 
 ledual procefles I have mentioned are fubfervient to 
 fome particular end, either of perception or of ac- 
 tion ; and it would have been perfeAly fuperfluous, 
 if, after this end were gained, the fteps which are in- 
 ftrumental in bringing it about, were all treafured 
 up in memory. Such a conftitution of our nature 
 would have had no other effeS: but to (lore the mind 
 with a variety of ufelefs particulars. 
 
 After all I have faid, it will perhaps be flill thought, 
 that fome of the reafonings I have offered are too 
 hypothetical ; and it is even poffible, that fome may- 
 be difpofed rather to difpute the common theory of 
 vifion, than admit the conclufions I have endeavored 
 to eftablifli. To fuch readers the following conlid- 
 erations may be of ufe, as they afford a more palpa- 
 ble inflance, than any I have yet mentioned, of the 
 rapidity with which the thoughts may be trained by 
 practice, to fhift from one thing to another. 
 
 When an equilibrifl balances a rod upon his lin- 
 ger, not only the attention of his mind, but the ob- 
 fervation of his eye, is conftantly requifite. — It is evi- 
 dent that the part of his body which fupports the 
 object is never wholly at reft ; otherwife the objed: 
 would no more ftand upon it, than if placed in the 
 fame poiition upon a table. The equilibrift, there- 
 fore, muft watch, in the very beginning, every incli- 
 nation of the object from the proper pofition, in or- 
 der to counteract his inclination by a contrary move- 
 ment. In this manner, the object has never time to 
 fall in any one direction, and is fupported in a way 
 fomewhat analogous to that in which a top is fup- 
 ported on a pivot, by being made to fpin upon" an 
 axis. — That a perfon fliould be able to do this in the 
 cafe of a fingle object, is curious ; but that he fhould 
 be able to balance in the fame way, two, or three, 
 upon different parts of his body, and at the fame 
 time balance himfelf on a fmall cord or wire, is in- 
 deed wonderful. Nor is it poilible to conceive that. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 109 
 
 in fuch an inftance, the mind, at one and the fame 
 momentj attends to thefe different equilibriums; 
 for it is not merely the attention which is requifite, 
 but the eye. We muft therefore conclude, that 
 both of thefe are directed fuccefUvely to the differ- 
 ent equilibriums, but change from one objed to an- 
 other with iiich velocity, that the effeft, with ref> 
 pe<51: to the experiment, is the fame as if they were 
 dire(5led to all the objeds conflantly. 
 
 It is worth while to remark farther, with refped 
 to this lail illuftration, that it affords direct evidence 
 of the poflibiiity of our exerting acts of the will, 
 which we are unable to recollect ; for the move- 
 ments of the equilibrifl: do not fucceed each other in 
 a regular order, like thofe of the harpfichord player, 
 in performing a piece of mufic ; but muft in every in- 
 ftance be regulated by accidents, which may vary in 
 numberlefs refpedts, and which indeed muft vary in 
 numberlefs refpeds,every time he repeats the exper- 
 iment : and therefore, although, in the former cafe, 
 we fliould fuppofe, with Hartley, " that the motions 
 " cling to one another, and to the imprelTions of the 
 " notes, in the way of afTociation, without any in- 
 " tervention of the ftate of mind called virill," yet, 
 in this inftance, even the pofTibility of fuch a fuppo- 
 fition is dired:ly contradicted by the fact. 
 
 The dexterity of jugglers, (which, by the way, 
 merits a greater degree of attention from philofo- 
 phers, than it has yet attradted,) affords many curi- 
 ous illuftrations of the fame doctrine. The whole 
 of this art feems to me to be founded on this prin- 
 ciple ; that it is poflible for a perfon, by long prac- 
 tice, to acquire a power, not only of carrying on 
 certain intellectual proceffes more quickly than oth- 
 er men, (for all the feats of legerdemain fuppofe the 
 exercife of obfervatlon, thought, and volition,) but 
 of performing a variety of movements with the 
 hand, before the eyes of a company, in an interval 
 
110 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of time too fliort to enable the fpectators to exert 
 that degree of attention which is necelTary to lay a 
 foundation for memory.* 
 
 As fome philofophers have difputed the influence 
 of the will in the cafe of habits, fo others (particu- 
 larly Stahl and his followers) have gone into the op- 
 polite extreme, by referring to the will all the vital 
 motions. If it be admitted, (fay thefe philofophers,) 
 that there are inftances in whirh we will an effedl, 
 without being able to make it an object of attention, 
 is it not poflible that, what we commonly call the 
 vital and involuntary motions, may be the conie- 
 quences of our own thought and volition ? But there 
 is furely a wide difference between thofe cafes, in 
 which the mind w^as at firft confcious of thought 
 and volition, and gradually loft the power of atten- 
 ding to them, from the growing rapidity of ihe in- 
 tellectual procefs ; and a cafe in which the effect it- 
 felf is perfedly unknown to the bulk of mankind, 
 even after they arrive at maturity, and in which 
 this effect has continued to take place with the moft 
 perfect regularity, from the very beginning of their 
 animal exiftence, and long before the firft dawn of 
 either reflection or experience. 
 
 Some of the followers of Stahl have ftated the fact 
 rather inaccurately, even with refpect to our habit- 
 ual exertions. Thus Dr. Porteriield, in his Treatife 
 on the Eye, is at pains to prove, that the foul may 
 think and will without knowledge or confcioufnefs. 
 But this, I own, is to me inconceivable. The true 
 ftate of the facl, I apprehend, is, that the mind may 
 think and will, without attending to its thoughts 
 and volitions, fo as to be able afterwards to recoi- 
 led them. — Nor is this merely a verbal criticifm ; 
 for there is an important difl'erence between con- 
 fcioufnefs and attention, which it is very neceflary 
 
 * See Note [E.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINI>. 1 1 1 
 
 to keep in view, in order to think upon this fubject 
 with any degree of precifion. * The one is an in- 
 voluntary ftate of the mind ; the other is a volunta- 
 ry ad: : the one has no immediate connection with 
 memory ; but the other is fo effentially fubfervient 
 to it, that, without fome degree of it, the ideas and 
 perceptions which pafs through the mind, feem to 
 leave no trace behind them. 
 
 When two perfons are fpeaking to us at once, we 
 can attend to either of them at pleafure, without be- 
 ing much difturbed by the other. If we attempt to 
 liften to both, we can underftand neither. The fad 
 feems to be, that when we attend conflantly to one 
 of the fpeakers, the words fpoken by the other make 
 no impreffion on the memory, in cotifequence of our 
 not attending to them ; and afFed us as little as if 
 they had not been uttered. This power, however, 
 of the mind to attend to either fpeaker at pleafure, 
 fuppofes that it is, at one and the fame time, con- 
 fcious of the fenfations which both produce. 
 
 Another well-known facl may be of ufe in illuf- 
 trating the fame diftindion. A perfon who acci- 
 dentally lofes his fight, never fails to improve grad- 
 ually in the fenfibility of his touch. — Now, there are 
 only two ways of explaining this. The one is, that, 
 in confequence of the lofs of the one fenfe, fome 
 change takes place in the phyfical conftitution of the 
 body, fo as to improve a different organ of percep- 
 tion. The other, that the mind gradually acquires 
 a power of attending to and remembering thofe 
 
 * The distinction between attention and consciousness is pointed 
 out by Dr. Keid, in his Essay? on the intellectual Powers of Man, 
 p. 60. " Attention is a voluntary act ; it requires an active exer- 
 " tion to begin and to continue it ; and it may be continued a« 
 ** long as we will ; but consciousness is involuntary, and of no con- 
 " tinuance, chanojing with every thought." ihe same author 
 has remarked, tha:^ these two operations of the mir.d have been 
 frequently confounded by philosophers, and particularly by Mr, 
 Locke. 
 
J J 2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fllgbter fenfations of which it was formerly con* 
 fcious, but which, from our habits of inattention, 
 made no impreffioti whatever on the memory. No 
 one, furely, can hefitate for a moment, in pronoun- 
 cing which of thefe two fuppofitions is the more 
 philofophical. 
 
 Having treated, at confiderable length, of thofe 
 habits in which both mind and body are concerned, 
 I proceed to make a few remarks on fome phenome- 
 na which are purely intellectual ; and which, 1 think, 
 are explicable on the fame principles with thofe 
 which have been now under our review. 
 
 Every perfon who has ftudied the elements of ge- 
 ometry, muft have obferved many cafes in which 
 the truth of a theorem flruck him the moment he 
 heard the enunciation. I do not allude to thofe 
 theorems the truth of which is obvious almoft to 
 fenfe ; fuch as, that any two fides of a triangle are 
 greater than the third fide ; or that one circle can- 
 not cut another circle in more than two points ; but 
 to fome propofitions with refpect to quantity, con- 
 lidered abftradly, (to fome. for example, in the fifth 
 book of Euclid,) which almofi: every fi.udent would 
 be ready to admit without a demonftration. Thefe 
 propofitions, however, do by no means belong to the 
 clafs of axioms ; for their evidence does not ftrike 
 every perfon equally, but requires a certain degree 
 of quicknefs to perceive it. At the fame time, it 
 frequently happens, that, although we are convin- 
 ced the propofition is true,w^e cannot fi:ate immedi- 
 ately to others upon what our convidion is found- 
 ed. In fuch cafes, I th'nk it highly probable, that 
 before we give our afTent to the theorem, a procefs of 
 thought* has pafled through the mind, but has paf- 
 
 * Of tUe nature of these processes of thought, I shall treat fully 
 in another \mTt of my work, under the article of l\easoning. I 
 have expresbed myself concernijig them in this chapter, in as gen- 
 eral ternis as possible. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. US 
 
 fed through the mind, b^t has paffed through it fo 
 quickly, that we cannot, without difficulty, arreft 
 our ideas in their rapid fucceffion, and ftate them to 
 others in their proper and logical order. It is fome 
 confirmation of this theory, that there are no prop- 
 ofitions of which it is more difficult to give a legiti- 
 mate proof from firft principles, than of thofe which 
 are only removed a few Heps from the clafs of axioms 
 —and that thofe men who are the moft remarkable 
 for their quick perception of mathematical truth, 
 are feldom clear and methodical in communicating 
 their knowledge to others. — A man of a moderate 
 degree of quicknefs, the very firtt time he is made 
 acquainted with the fundamental principles of the 
 method of fluxions, or of the method of prime and 
 ultimate ratios, is almoft inftantaneoufly fatisfied of 
 their truth ; yet how difficult is it to demonilrate 
 thefe principles rigoroufly ! 
 
 What I have now faid with refpecl to mathemat- 
 ics, may be applied in a great meafure to the other 
 branches of knowledge. How many queilions dai- 
 ly occur to us, in morals, in politics, and in common 
 life ; in confidering which, we ahnoft inftantaneouf- 
 ly fee where the truth lies, although we are not in a 
 condition, all at once, to explain the grounds of our 
 convidion ! Indeed I apprehend, there are few, even 
 among thofe who have devoted themfelves to ftudy, 
 but who have not been habituated to communicate 
 their knowledge to others, who are able to exhibit, 
 in their natural order, the different iteps of any in- 
 veftigation by which they have been led to form a 
 particular conclufion. Fhe common obfervation, 
 therefore, that an obfcure elocution always indicates 
 an imperfect knowledge of the fubject ; although it 
 may perhaps be true with refpecl to men who have 
 cultivated the art of fpeaking, is by no means to be 
 relied on as a general rule, in judging of the talents 
 of thofe whofe fpeculations have been carried on 
 
114 ELEMENTS OF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 with a view merely to their own private fatisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 In the courfe of my own experience, I have heard 
 of more than one inftance, of men who, without 
 any mathematical education, were able, on a little 
 reflection, to give a folution on any finiple algebra- 
 ical problem ; and who, at the fame time, were per- 
 fedly incapable of explaining by what iteps they ob- 
 tained the refult. In thefe cafes, we have a direct 
 proof of the pollibility of inveftigating even truths 
 which are pretty remote, by an intelledual procefs, 
 which, as ioon as it is finilhed, vanilhes almoft en- 
 tirely from the memory. — It is probable, that fon e- 
 thing of the fame kind takes place much more fre- 
 quently in the other branches of knowledge, in 
 w^hich our reafonings con fift commonly but of a lew 
 ileps. Indeed, 1 am inclined to think, that it is in 
 this way that by far the greater part of our fpecula- 
 tive concluiions are formed. 
 
 There is no talent, I apprehend, fo elTential to a 
 public fpeaker, as to be able t(^ ftate clearly every 
 different ftep of thofe trains of thought by which he 
 himfelf has led to the conclufions he wifhea to eflab- 
 lifh. Much may be here done by ttudy and expe- 
 rience. Even in thofe cafes in which the truth of a 
 propofition feem§ to ftrike us inftantaneoufly, al- 
 though we may not be able, at firft, to difcover the 
 media of proof, we feldom fail in the difcovery by 
 perfeverance. — Nothing contributes fo much to form 
 this talent as the ftudy of metaphyfics ; not the ab- 
 furd metaphyfics of the fchools,but that ftudy which 
 has the operations of the mind for its object. By 
 habituating us to reflect on the fubjects of our con- 
 fcioufnels, it enables us to retard, in a conficlerable ^ 
 degree, the current of thought ; to arreft many of 
 thofe ideas, which w^ould otherwife efcape our no- 
 tice ; and to render the arguments which we em- 
 ploy for the convidion of others, an exad tranfcript 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 1 >5 
 
 of thofe trains of inquiry and reafoning, which ori- 
 ginally led us to form our opinions. 
 
 Thefe obfervations lead rne to take notice of an 
 important diftinc^ion between the intelledual habits 
 of men of fpeculation and of aflion. The latter, 
 who are under a neceflity of thinking and deciding 
 on the fpur of the occafion, are led to cultivate, as 
 much as poffible, a quicknefs in their ment»t opera- 
 tions ; and fometimes acquire it in fo great a degree, 
 that their judgments feem to be almoil intuitive. 
 To thofe, on the other hand, who have not merely 
 to form opinions for themfelves, but to communi- 
 cate them to others, it is neceffary to retard the train 
 of thought as it palTes in the mind, fo as to be able 
 afterwards to recolledl every different ftep of the pro- 
 cefs ; a habit, which, in fome cafes, has fuch an in- 
 fluence on the intelledual powers, that there are 
 men, who, even in their private fpeculations, not on- 
 ly make ufe of words as an inltrument of thought^ 
 but form thefe words into regular fentences. 
 
 It may perh^^^ps appear, at firft, a paradoxical ob- 
 fervation, that one great employment of philofo- 
 phers, in a refined age, is to bring to light, and ar- 
 range, thofe rapid and confufed trains of thought, 
 which appear from the ftruclure of languages, and 
 from the monuments of ancient laws and govern- 
 ments, to have paffed through the minds of men in 
 the moft remote and unenlightened periods. In 
 proof, however, of this, it is fufficient to mention, 
 the fyilematical analogy which we find, to a certain 
 degree, running through the fl:rud:ure of the moft 
 imperfect tongues, (for example, in the formation of 
 the different parts of the verbs,) and thofe general 
 principles, which the philofophical lawyer traces a- 
 midft an apparent chaos of precedeiits and flatutes. 
 In the language, too, of the rudtft tribe, we find 
 words transferred from one lubjecl to another, 
 which indicate, in the mind of the individual who 
 
116 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 firft made the transference, fome perception of re- 
 femblance or of analogy. Such transferences can 
 hardly be afcribed to accident, but may be confider- 
 ed as proofs that the analogies which the phiiofo- 
 pher afterwards points out between the objects 
 which are diftinguifhed by the fame name, had been 
 perceived by the inventors of language, although it 
 is more than probable that they never expreffed them 
 in words, nor could even have explained them if 
 they had been queftioned on the fubjecl. 
 
 Nor will this appear a bold or incredible fuppofi- 
 tion, if we reflect on the fagacity and ingenuity 
 which favages, and even peafants, difcover, in over- 
 coming the difficulties which occur in their fitua- 
 tion. They do not, indeed, engage in long procef- 
 fes of abftra<5b reafoning, for which they have no in- 
 clination, and which it is impoffible to carry on with- 
 out the ufe of a cultivated and a copious language ; 
 but, when preffed by prefent circumftances,they com- 
 bine means to accompiifh particular ends,in a manner 
 which indicates the exercife both of invention and 
 of reafoning. It is probable that fuch procefles are 
 carried on in their minds, with much lefs afliftance 
 from language, than a philofopher would derive on 
 a fimilar occalion ; and it is almoft certain, that they 
 would find themfelves perfectly incapable of com- 
 municating to others the fteps by which they were 
 led to their conclufions. In confequence of thefe 
 circumftances, the attainments ot the human mind, 
 in its ruder Hate, perifli with the individual, with- 
 out being recorded in writing, or perhaps exprefled 
 in v/ords ; and we are left to infer them indireclly 
 from the ftruclure of language, or from the monu- 
 ments of ancient cuftoms and inftitutions. 
 
 When a train of thought leads to any interefting 
 conclufion, or excites any pleasant feeling, it becomes 
 peculiarly difficult to arreil: our fleeting ideas ; be- 
 caufe the mind, when once it has felt the pleafure. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 1 17 
 
 has little inclination to retrace the fteps by which it 
 arrived at it. This is one great caufe of the difficul- 
 ty attending philofophical criticifm. When a critic 
 explains to us, why we are pleafed with any partic* 
 utar beauty, or offended with any defect, it is evi- 
 dent, that if his theory be juft, the circuniftances 
 which he points out as the foundation of our pleaf- 
 ure or uneaiiness, muft have occurred to our minds 
 before we were pleased with the beauty, or offended 
 with the defed:. In fuch cafes, it fometimes hap- 
 pens, when a critic has been fortunate in his theory, 
 that we recognize at firft light our old ideas, and, 
 without any farther coniideration, are ready to 
 bear tellimony to the truth, from our own con- 
 fcioufness. So very difficult, however, is it to at- 
 tend to the ideas which excite fuch feelings, that 
 it often appears to be doubtful, whether a theory be 
 right or wrong ; and that where there is every rea- 
 fon to believe that the pleafure is produced in all 
 men in the fame way, different critics adopt different 
 theories with refpe61: to its caufe. It is long pradlice 
 alone, joined to what is commonly called a meta- 
 phyfical turn of mind, (by which I think is chiefly 
 to be underftood, a capacity of reflecting on the fub- 
 jeds of our confcioufnefs,) that can render fuch ef- 
 forts of attention eafy. Exquifite fenfibility, fo far 
 from being ufeful in this fpecies of criticifm, both 
 gives a difrelifli for the fl:udy, and difqualifies for 
 purfuing it. 
 
 Before we leave the fubjec^ of attention, it is pro- 
 per to take notice of a queftion which has been ftated 
 with refpect to it ; whether we have the power of 
 attending to more than one thing at one and the 
 fame inftant ; or, in other words, whether we can 
 attend at one and the fame inftant, to objects which 
 we can attend to feparately ?* This quellion has, it 
 
 * I have added this explanation to obviate the question, what "5 
 meant by one object ? 
 
118 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 I am not miftaken, been already decided by feveral 
 philofophers in the negative ; and I acknowledge, 
 for my own part, that although their opinion has 
 not only been called in queftion by others, but even 
 treated with fome degree of contempt as altogether 
 hypothetical, it appears to me to be the moft reafon- 
 able and philofophical that we can form on the fub- 
 ject. 
 
 There is indeed a great variety of cafes, in which 
 the mind apparently exerts different acls of atten- 
 tion at once ; but from the inflances which have 
 already been mentioned, of the aftonifhing rapidity 
 of thought, it is obvious, that all this may be explain- 
 ed, without fuppofing thefe ads to be co-exiftent ; 
 and 1 may even venture to add, it may all be axplain- 
 ed in the moft fatisfad:ory manner, without afcribing 
 to our intellectual operations, a greater degree of 
 rapidity than that with which we know from the 
 fa(5l that they are fometimes carried on. The efFecl 
 of practice in increafmg this capacity of apparently 
 attending to different things at once, renders this 
 explanation of the phenomenon in queftion, more 
 probable than any other. 
 
 The cafe of the equilibrift and rope-dancer already 
 mentioned, is particularly favourable to this expla- 
 nation ; as it affords direct evidence of the poiTibili- 
 ty of the mind's exerting different fucceilive ac^fs in 
 an interval of time fo fhort, as to produce the fame 
 fenfible effed, as if they had been exerted at one and 
 the fame moment. In this cafe, indeed, the rapidity 
 of thought is fo remarkable, that if the different acts 
 of the mind were not all neceffarily accompanied 
 with different movements of the eye, there can be 
 no reafon for doubting, that the philofophers, whofe 
 dodrine I am nov^' controverting, would have as- 
 ferted, that they are all mathematically co-exiftent. 
 
 Upon a queftion, however, of this fort, which does 
 not ^dmit of a perfectly direct appeal to the fad, I 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. Il9 
 
 would by no means be underftood to decide with 
 confidence ; and therefore Ifhouid wifh the cor.clu- 
 iions I am now to (late, to be received as cnly c^^n- 
 ditionally eftabliihed. They are neceffiry and obvi- 
 ous confequences of the general principle, " that the 
 " mind can only attend to one thing at once ;'* but 
 muft Hand or fall with the truth of that fuppofition. 
 
 It is commonly underftood, I believe, that, in a 
 concert of mufic, a good ear can attend to the dif- 
 ferent parts of the mufic feparately, or can attend to 
 them all at once, and feel the full effect of the har- 
 mony. If the doctrine, however, which I have en- 
 deavored to eftablifh, be admitted, it will follow, ^ 
 that in the latter cafe, the mind is conftantly vary- 
 ing its attention from the one part of the mufic to 
 the other, and that its operations are fo rapid, as to 
 give us no perception of an interval of time. 
 
 The fame dodrine leads to fome curious conclu- 
 fions with refped to vifion. Suppofe the eye to be 
 fixed in a particular pofition, and the picture of an 
 objed: to be painted on the retina. Does the mind 
 perceive the complete figure of the object at once, or 
 is this perception the refult of the various percep- 
 tions we have of the different p^)ints in the outline ? 
 With refpect to this queftion, the prin iples already 
 ftated lead me to conclude, that the mind does at 
 one and the fame time perceive every point in the 
 outline of the objed, (provided the whole of it be 
 painted on the retina at the fame inftant.) for per- 
 ception, like confcioufnefs, is an involuntary opera- 
 tion. As no two points, however, of tlie outline 
 are in the fame direction, every point, by itfelf, con- 
 ftitutes juft as diftind an objed of attention to the 
 mind, as if it were feparated by an interval of empty 
 fpace from all the reft. If the doctrine therefore for- 
 merly ft^^ied be juft, it is impofTible for the mind to 
 attend to more than one of thefe points at once ; 
 and as the perception of the figure of the object, im- 
 
120 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 plies a knowledge of the relative fituation of thedif- 
 fereiu points with refpect to each other, we n uft 
 conclude, that the perception of figure by the eye, 
 is the refult of a number of different acis of atten- 
 tion. Thefe acls of attention, however, are per- 
 forated with fuch rapidity, that the efied, with re- 
 fpt 6t to us, is the fame as if the perception were in- 
 ftantaneous. 
 
 In fiirther confirmation of this reafoning, it may 
 be remarked, that if the perception of vifible figure 
 were an immediate confequence of the pidure on the 
 retina, we fliould have, at the firft glance, as diftind 
 an idea of a figure of a thoufand fides, as of a tri- 
 angle or afquare. The truth is, that when the fig- 
 ure is very fimple, the procefs of the mind is fo rapid, 
 that the perception feems to be inftantaneous ; but 
 when the fides are multiplied beyond a certain num- 
 ber, the interval of time neceflary for thefe different 
 ads of attention becomes perceptible. 
 
 It may perhaps be afked, what I mean by a point 
 in the outline of a figure, and what it is that confli- 
 tutes \his point one object of attention ? 1 he anfwer, 
 I apprehend, is, that this point is the minmum vifibile. 
 If the point be lefs, we cannot perceive it : it it be 
 greater, it is not all feen in one diredion. 
 
 If thefe obfervations be adirittcd, it will follow, 
 that, without the faculty of mem>ory, we could have 
 had no perception of vifiible figure. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 121 
 
 CHAPTER THIRD. 
 
 Of Conception, 
 
 BY Conception, I mean that power of the mind, 
 which enables it to form a notion of an abfent ob- 
 ject of perception ; or of a fenfation which it has 
 formerly felt. I do not contend that this is exclu- 
 fively the proper meaning of the word, but I think 
 that the faculty which I have now defined delerves 
 to be diftinguiflied by an appropriated name. 
 
 Conception is often confounded with other pow- 
 ers. When a painter makes a picture of a friend, 
 who is abfent or dead, he is commonly faid to paint 
 from memory : and the expreffion is fufHciently cor- 
 red for common converfation. But in an analyfis 
 of the mind, there is ground for a diftindlion. 
 The power of conception enables him to make the 
 features of his friend an object of thought, fo as to 
 copy the refemblance ; the power of memory recog- 
 nifes thefe features as a former obje<Et of perception. 
 Every adt of memory includes an idea of the pait ; 
 conception imphes no idea of time whatever.* 
 
 According to this view of the matter, the word 
 conception correfponds to what was called by the 
 fchoolmen ftmple apprehenjion ; with this difference 
 only, that they included, under this name, our ap- 
 prehenfion of general propofitions ; whereas I fliould 
 wi(h to limit the application of the word conception 
 to our fenfations, and the objects of our perceptions. 
 Dr. Reid, in his Inquiry, fubftitutes the word con- 
 
 * Shakespeare calls this power ** the mind's eye." 
 Hamlet. — ^* My father! Methinks 1 see my father. 
 Horatio. — *' Where, my Lord ? 
 Hamlet. — " In vny mind's eye, Horatio." 
 
 Act i. Scene 4. 
 
122 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ceptivn inftead of the fimple' apprehenfion of the 
 fchools, and employs it in the fame extenfive lignific2&- 
 cation. I think it may contribute to make our ideas 
 more diftincl, to reftricl its meaning : — and for fuch 
 a reftri(^ion, we have^the authority of philofophers 
 in a eafe perfedly analogous, — In ordinary language, 
 we apply the fame word perception^ to the knowledge 
 which we have by our fenfes of external objedls, and 
 to our knowledge of fpeculative truth : and yet an 
 author would be juftly cenfured, who fhould treat of 
 thefe two operations of the mind under the fame 
 article of perception. I apprehend there is as wide 
 a difference between the conception of a truth, and 
 the conception of an abfent objed of fenfe, as be- 
 tween the perception of a tree, and the perception of 
 a mathematical theorem. — I have therefore taken 
 the liberty to diftinguifli alfo the two former opera- 
 tions of the mind : and under the article of conception 
 Ihall confine myfelf to that faculty whofe province 
 it is to enable us to form a notion of our paft fen- 
 fetions, or of the objeds of fenfe that we have for- 
 merly perceivedr 
 
 Conception is frequently ufed as fynonymous with 
 imagination. Dr. Reid fays, that " imagination, in 
 *' its proper fenfe, fignifies a lively conception of ob- 
 " jecls of light." " This is a talent" (he remarks) 
 *' of importance to poets and orators ; and deferves 
 " a proper name, on account of its connexion with 
 *' their arts." He adds, that " imagination is dif- 
 " tinguiflied from conception, as a part from a 
 " whole." 
 
 I fhall not inquire, at prefent, into the proper 
 Englifh meaning of the words conception and imagina- 
 tion. In a ftudy fuch as this, fo far removed from 
 the common purpofes of fpeech, fome latitude may 
 perhaps be allowed in the ufe of words j provided 
 only we define accurately thofe we employ, and 
 adhere to our own definitions. m 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINt). J 23 
 
 The bufinefs of conception according to the ac- 
 count I have given of it, is to prefent us with an 
 exact tranfcript 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, fo as to form new wholes of our own cre- 
 ation. I fhall employ the word magination to exprefs 
 this power : and, I apprehend, that this is the pro- 
 per fenfe of the word ; if imagination be the power 
 which gives birth to the productions of the poet and 
 the painter. This is not a iimple faculty of the mind. 
 It prefuppofes abftraction, to feparate from each other 
 qualities and circumftances which have been perceiv- 
 ed in conjundion ; and alfo judgment and tafte to 
 dired us in forming the combinations. If they are 
 made wholly at random, they are proofs of infanity.*" 
 
 The firft remarkable fa6t which ftrikes us with re- 
 fyed: to conception is, that we can conceive the ob- 
 jects of fome fenfes much more eafily than thofe of 
 others. Thus we can conceive an abfent vifible ob- 
 ject, fuch as a building that is familiar to us, much 
 more eafily than a particular found, a particular tafte, 
 or a particular pain, which we have formerly felt. It 
 is probable, however, that this power might be im- 
 proved in the cafe of fome of ovir fenfes. Few peo- 
 
 * In common discourse, we often use the phrase of t/iwkmg upon 
 an ohject, to express what I here call, tlie conception of it.-r-ln the 
 following passage, Slwkespeare uses the former of these phrases, 
 and the wordi imcgination and apprehension as synonymous witli 
 each other. 
 
 Who can hold a fire in bis hand, 
 
 By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? 
 Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, 
 ! Vty bare imagination of a feast \ 
 
 Or wallow naked in December's sjiow, 
 By thinking on fantastic summer's heat ? 
 Oh no ! the ap(»reliension of the ^ood 
 Givea but the greater feeling to the worse. 
 
 K. RiciiARu ir. Act i. Scene t. 
 
124 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 pie, I believe, are able to form a very diftind concept 
 tion of founds ; and yet it is certain, that by pradice, 
 a perfon may acquire a power of amufing himfelf 
 with reading written mufic. And in the cafe of po- 
 etical numbers, it h univerfally known, that a reader 
 may enjoy the harmony of the verfe, without artic- 
 ulating the words, even in a whifper. In fuch cafes, 
 I take for granted, that our plealure arifes from a 
 very ftrong conception of the founds which we have 
 been accuftomed to afTociate with particular written 
 charaders. 
 
 The peculiarity in the cafe of vifible objects, feems 
 to arife from this ; that when we think of a found 
 or of a talle, the objed: of our conception is one fin- 
 gle detached fenfation ; whereas every vifible object 
 is complex ; and the conception which we form of 
 it as a whole, is aided by the affociation of ideas. 
 To perceive the force of this obfervation, it is necef- 
 fary to recolledl what was formerly faid on the liib- 
 je6t of attention. As we cannot at one inflant attend 
 to every point of the pidure of an object on the ret- 
 ina, fo, I apprehend, we cannot at one inflant form 
 a conception of the whole of any vifible objed: ; but 
 that our conception of the obje6l as a whole, is the 
 refult of many conceptions. The affociation of ideas 
 conned:s the different parts together, and prefents 
 them to the mind in their proper arrangement ; and 
 the various relations which thefe parts bear to one 
 another in point of fituation, contribute greatly to 
 ftrengthen the afTvKiations. It is fome confirmation 
 of this theory, that it is more eafy to remember a 
 fucceffion of founds, than any particular found which 
 we have heard detached and unconnecled. 
 
 The power of conceiving vifible objects, like all 
 other powers that depend on the affociation of ideas, 
 may be wonderfully improved by habit. A perf m 
 accuftomed to drawing, retains a much more perfed: 
 notion of a building or of a landfcape which he has 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 125 
 
 feen, than one who has never pracHfed that art. A 
 portrait painter traces the forni of the human body 
 from memory, with as little exertion of attention, 
 as he employs in writing the letters which compofe 
 his name. 
 
 In the power of conceiving colours, too, there are 
 flriking differences among individuals : and, indeed, 
 I am inclined to fufped, that, in the greater number 
 of inftances, the fuppofed defects of fight in this ret 
 ped, ought to be afcribed rather to a defe(fl in the 
 power of conception. One thing is certain, that we 
 often fee men who are perfedly fenfible of the dif- 
 ference between two colours when they are prefent- 
 ed to them, who cannot give names to thefe colors, 
 with confidence, when they fee them apart ; and 
 are perhaps apt to confound the one with the other. 
 Such men, it fhould feem, feel the fenfation of- col- 
 or like other men, when the objed is prefent, but 
 are incapable (probably in confequence of fome ear- 
 ly habit of inattention) to conceive the fenfation dif- 
 tind:ly when the objed: is removed. Without this 
 power of conception, it is evidently impofTible for 
 them, however lively their fenfations may be, to 
 give a name to any color ; for the application of the 
 name fuppofes not only a capacity of receiving the 
 fenfation, but a power of comparing it with one for- 
 merly felt. At the fame time, I would not be un- 
 derflood by thefe obfervations to deny, that there 
 are cafes, in which there is a natural defect of: the 
 organ in the perception of color. In fome cafes, 
 perhaps, the fenfation is not felt at all ; and in oth- 
 ers, the faintnefs of the fenfation may be one caufe 
 of thofe habits of inattention, from which the inca- 
 pacity of conception has arifen. 
 
 A talent for lively defcription, at leafl in the cafe 
 of fenfible objeds, depends chiefly on the degree in 
 which the defcriber poffefTes the power of concep- 
 tion. We may remark, even in common conver- 
 
126 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fation, a ftriking difFerence among individuals in 
 this refpecl. One man, in attempting to convey a 
 notion of any objed he has feen, feems to place it 
 before him, and to paint from actual perception ; 
 another, although not deficient in a ready elocution, 
 finds himfelf in fuch a fituation confufed and embar- 
 raffed among a number of particulars imperfedlly 
 apprehended, which crowd into his mind without 
 any juft order and connection. Nor is it merely to 
 the accuracy of o^r defcriptions that this power is 
 fubfervient : it contributes more than any thing 
 clfe to render them ftriking and expreffive to others, 
 by guiding us to a feledion of fuch circumftances as 
 are moft prominent and charaderiftical ; infomuch 
 that I think it may reafonably be doubted, if a per« 
 fon would not write a happier defcription of an ob- 
 jed from the conception than from the actual per- 
 ception of it. It has been often remarked, that the 
 perfection of defcription does not coniift in a minute 
 fpeciiication of circumftances, but in a judicious fe- 
 ieCtion of them ; and that the beft rule for making 
 the felection is, to attend to the particulars that 
 make the deepeft impreflion on our own minds. 
 When the object is adtually before us, it is extreme- 
 ly difficult to compare the impreflions which differ- 
 ent circumftances produce ; and the very thought 
 of writing a defcription, would prevent the impref- 
 fions which would otherwife take place. When we 
 afterwards conceive the object, the reprefentation of 
 it we form to ourfelves, however lively, is merely 
 an outline ; and is made up of thofe circumftances, 
 which really ftruck us moft at the moment ; while 
 others of lefs importance are obliterated. The im- 
 preffion, indeed, which a circumftance makes on the 
 mind, will vary confiderably with the degree of a 
 perfon's tafte ; but I am inclined to think, that a 
 man of lively conceptions, who paints from thefe, 
 while his mind is yet warm from the original fcene, 
 can hardly fail to fucceed in defcriptive coaipofition. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 1^7 
 
 The fa^ls and obfervations which I have now men- 
 tioned, are applicable to conception, as diflingulfli- 
 ed from imagination. The two powers, however, 
 are very nearly allied ; and are frequently fo blend- 
 ed, that it is difficult to fay, to which of the two, 
 fome particular operations of the mind are to be re- 
 ferred. There are alfo many general facts which 
 hold equally with refpecl to both. The obferva- 
 tions which follow, if they are well founded, are of 
 this number, and might have been introduced with 
 equal propriety under either article. I mention 
 them here, as I Ihall have occalion to refer to them 
 in the courfe of the following work, in treating of 
 fome fubje<!:1s, which will naturally occur to our ex- 
 amination, before we have another opportunity of 
 conlidering this part of our conftitution. 
 
 It is a common, I believe I may fay an univerfal, 
 doctrine among logicians, that conception (or ima- 
 gination, which is often ufed as fynonymous with 
 it) is attended with no belief of the exiftence of its 
 objed. " Perception," fays Dr. Reid, " is attended 
 " with a belief of the prefent exiftence of its objed ; 
 " memory, with a belief of its paft exiftence ; but 
 " imagination is attended with no belief at all ; 
 ** and was therefore called by the fchool-men, appre- 
 *' henfiofimpkicy 
 
 It is with great diffidence, that I prefurue to cali 
 in queftion a principle, which has been fo generally 
 received ; yet there are feveral circumftances which 
 lead me to doubt of it. If it were a fpecifical dif> 
 tinc^ion between perception and imagination, that 
 the former is always attended with belief, and the 
 latter with none ; then the more lively our imagin- 
 ation were of any object, and the more completely 
 that object occupied the attention, the lefs ftiouid 
 we be apt to believe its exiftence ; for it ii^ reafona- 
 ble to think, that when any of our powers is em- 
 ployed feparately from the reft, and there is nothing 
 
128 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 to withdraw the attention from it, tlie laws which 
 regulate its operation will be moft obvious to our 
 obfervation, and will be nioft completely difcrimin- 
 ated from thofe which are chara6teriftical of the oth- 
 er powers of the mind. So very different however 
 is the fad, that it is matter of common remark, that 
 when imagination is very lively, we are apt to af- 
 cribe to its objeds a real exiftence, as in the cafe of 
 dreaming or of rnadnefs ; and we may add, in the 
 cafe of thofe who, in fpite of their own general be- 
 lief of the abfurdity of the vulgar llories of appari- 
 tions, dare not trutl themfelves alone with their own 
 imaginations in the dark. That imagination is in 
 thefe inftances attended with belief, we have all the 
 evidence that the nature of the thing admits of; for 
 we feel and a6t in the fame manner as we fhould do, 
 if we believed that the objecls of our attention were 
 real ; which is the only proof that metaphyficians 
 produce, or can produce, of the belief which accom- 
 panies perception. 
 
 In thefe cafes, the fa6l that I wifh to eftablifh is 
 fo flriking, that it has never been called in queflion ; 
 but in mofl cafes, the imprefTion which the objedls 
 of imagination make on the mind is lo momentary, 
 and is fo immediately corredled by the furrounding 
 objeds of perception, that it has not time to influ- 
 ence our conduct. Hence we are apt to conclude 
 on a fuperficial view, that imagination is attended 
 with no belief; and the conclufion is furely jufl in 
 moil cafes, if by belief we mean a permanent con- 
 viction which influences our condud. But if the 
 word be ufed in the flrid logical fenfe, I am inclin- 
 ed to think, after the mofl careful attention to what 
 I experience in myfelf, that the exercife both of 
 conception and imagination is always accompanied 
 with a belief that their objeds exifL* When a 
 
 * As the foregoing reasoning, though satisfactory to myself, has 
 not appeared equally so to some of oy friends ; I should vhh the 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 129 
 
 painter conceives the face and figure of an abfent 
 friend, in order to draw his pi6ture,he believes for the 
 moment that his friend is before him. The belief, 
 
 reader to consider the remarks which I now offer, as amounting 
 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 thobe sudden bursts of passion, which lead 
 us CO wreak our vengeance upon manimate objects, he endeavors 
 to shew, that we have in such cases, a momentary belief thgt the 
 object is alive. " I confess," says he, *' it seems to me impossible, 
 " that there should be resentment against a thing, which, at that 
 " very moment, is considered as inanimate ; and consequently in- 
 " capable either of intending hurt, or of being punished. — There 
 •* must, therefore. I conceive, be some momentary notion or con- 
 •' ception, that the object of our resentment is capable of punish- 
 « ment." 
 
 In another passage, the same author remarks, that »* men may 
 *' be governed, in their practice, by a belief, which, in speculation, 
 ** they reject." 
 
 " 1 knew a man," says he, " who was as much convinced as a- 
 •* ny man, of the folly of the popular belief of apparitions in the 
 " dark : yet he could not sleep in a room alone, n r go alone into 
 " a room in the dark. Can it be said, that his fear did not imply 
 •* a belief of danger ? This is impossible. Yet his.pliilosophy con- 
 " vinced him, that he was in no more danger in the dark when a- 
 " lone, than with company. Here an unreasonable belief, which 
 ** was merely a prejudice of the nurisery, stuck so fast as to govern 
 <* his conduct, in opposition to his speculative belief as a philoso- 
 " pher, and a man ©f sense." 
 
 ** There are few persons who can look down from the battle- 
 " ment of a very high tower without fear; while their reason con- 
 " vinces them, that they are in no more danger than when stand- 
 ** ing upon the ground." 
 
 These facts are easily explicable, on the supposition, that when- 
 ever the objects of imagination engross the attention wholly (which 
 Ihey may do, in opposition to any speculative opinion with re- 
 spect to their non existence.) they produce a temporary belief of 
 their reality. — Indeed, in the last passage, Dr. Reid seems to ad- 
 mit 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 (lor the Ume) that 
 the objects of his ioidgination a^e real. 
 
ISO ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 indeed, is only momentary ; for it is extremely dii^ 
 ficult, in our waking hours, to keep up a fteady and 
 undivided attention to any objedl we conceive or 
 imagine ; and, as foon as the conception or the im- 
 agination is over, the belief which attended it is at 
 an end. We find that we can recal and difmifs the 
 objects of thefe powers at pleafure ; and therefore 
 we learn to confider them as creations of the mind, 
 which have no feparate and independent exiftence. 
 
 The compatibility of fuch a fpeculative difbelief, 
 as I have here fuppofed, of the exillence of an ob- 
 ject, with a contrary momentary belief, may perhaps 
 be more readily admitted, if the following experi- 
 ment be confidered with attention. 
 
 Suppofe a lighted candle to be fo placed before a 
 concave mirror, that the image of the flame may be 
 feen between the mirror and the eye of the obferven 
 In this cafe, a perfon who is acquainted with the 
 principles of optics, or who has feen the experiment 
 made before, has fo ftrong a fpeculative conviction 
 of the non-exiftence of the object in that place 
 where he fees its image, that he would not hefitate 
 to put his finger to the apparent flame, without any 
 apprehenfion of injury. 
 
 Suppofe, however, that in fuch a cafe it were pof- 
 fible for the obferver to banifli completely from his 
 thoughts all the circumflances of the experiment, 
 and to confine his attention wholly to bis percep- 
 tion ; would he not believe the image to be a reali- 
 ty ; and would he not expert the fame confequences 
 from touching it, as from touching a real body in a 
 ftate of inflammation ? If thefe quefi:ions be anfwer- 
 ed in the affirmative, it will follow ; that the effect 
 of the perception, while it engages the attention 
 completely to itfelf, is to produce belief ; and that 
 the fpeculative difbelief, according to which our con- 
 dud in ordinary cafes is regulated, is the refult of a 
 reeolledtion of the various circumflances with which 
 the experiment is accompaiued. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 131 
 
 If, in fuch a cafe as T have now fuppofed, the ap- 
 pearance exhibited to us is of fuch a nature, as to 
 threaten us with any immediate danger, the efted 
 is the fame as if we were to banifh from our thoughts 
 the circumftances of the experiment, and to limit 
 our attention folely to what we perceive : for here 
 the belief, which is the firft effecl of the perception, 
 alarms our fear?, and influences our conduft, before 
 reflection has time to operate. In a very ingenious 
 optical deception, which was lately exhibited in this 
 city, the image of a flower was prefented to the fpec- 
 tator ; and when he was about to lay hold of it with 
 his hand, a ftroke was aimed at him by the image 
 of a dagger. If a perfon who has feen this experi- 
 ment is afked in his cooler moments, whether or 
 not he believes the dagger which he faw to be real, 
 he will readily anfwer in the negative ; and yet the 
 accurate fiatement of the fad undoubtedly is, that 
 the firfl and the proper efFed of the perception is 
 belief ; and that the diibelief he feels, is the effect of 
 fubfequent refledion. 
 
 The fpeculative difbelief which we feel with re- 
 fped to the illufions of imagination, I conceive to be 
 analogous to our fpeculative difbelief of the exiflence 
 of the objed exhibited to the eye in this optical de- 
 ception ; as our belief that the illufions of imagina- 
 tion are real, while that faculty occupies the mind 
 exclufively, is analogous to the belief produced by 
 the optical deception while the attention is limited 
 to our perception, and is withdrawn from the cir- 
 cumflances in which the experiment is made.* 
 
 Thefe obfervations lead me to t^ke notice of a cir- 
 
 * It may appear to some readers r&thcr trifling to add, and yet 
 to others the remark may not be altogether superfluous, that it is 
 not my intention to insituiate by the foregoing illustrations, that 
 the relation between perception and imagination has the most dis- 
 tant analogy to that betW'een the perceptbn of the object, and tlie 
 |)erception of its optical image. 
 
^32 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 cumftance with refped to the belief accompanying 
 perception, which it appears to nie neceiTiiry to ftate, 
 in order to render Dr. Reid's dodrine on that fub- 
 jed completely fatisfadory. He has Ihewn, that 
 certain fenfations are, by a law of our nature, ac- 
 companied with an irrefiftible belief of the exiftence 
 of certain qualities of external objeds. But this 
 law extends no farther than to the preient exiftence 
 of the quality ; that is, to its exiftence while we feel 
 the correlponding fenfation. When^ e is it then, 
 that we afcribe to the quality, an exiftence indepen- 
 dent of our perception ? I apprehend we learn to do 
 this by experience alone. We find that we cannot, 
 as in the cafe of imaginatirn, difmifs or recal the per- 
 ception of an external objed:. If I open my eyes, I 
 cannot prevent myfelf from feeing the profped 
 •which is before me. I learn therefore, to afcribe to 
 the objeds of my lenfes, not only an exiftence at the 
 time I perceive them, but an independent and a 
 permanent exiftence. 
 
 It is a ftrong confirmation of this dodrine, that 
 in fleep, when (as I fliail endeavor afterwards to fhew) 
 the influence of the will over the train of our 
 thoughts is fufpended, and when, of confequence, the 
 time of their continuance in the mind is not regula- 
 ted by us, we afcribe to the objeds of imagination 
 an independent and permanent exiftence, as we do 
 when awake to the objeds of jverception. The fame 
 thing happens in thofe kinds of madnefs, in which 
 a particular idea takes pollellion of the attention, 
 and occupies it to the exclufion of every thing elfe. 
 Indeed, madnefs feems in many cafes to arife entire- 
 ly from a fulpenfion of the influence of the will over 
 the lucceilion of our thoughts ; in confequence of 
 which, the objedls of imagination appear to have an 
 exiftence independent of our volition ; and are 
 therefore, agreeably to the foregoing dodrine, mis- 
 taken for realities. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 1S3 
 
 Numberlefs other illuftrations of the fame general 
 fact occur to me ; but the ftiiiowing is, I think, one 
 of the moft llrik ng. I mention it, in preference to 
 the reft, as it appears to me to connect the dc^drine 
 in queftion with fome principles which are now uni- 
 verlally admitted among philofophers. 
 
 The diftinction between the original and the ac- 
 quired perceptions of fight, is familiarly known to 
 every one who has the ilighteft acquaintance with 
 the elements of optics. That this fenfe, prior to ex- 
 perience, conveys to us the notion of extenfion in 
 two dimenfions only, and that it gives us no infor- 
 mation concerning the diftances at which obje6:s are 
 placed from the eye, are proportions which nobody, 
 I prefume, in the prefent ftate of fcience, will be dif- 
 pofed to controvert. In what manner we are ena- 
 bled, by a comparifon between the perceptions of 
 fight and thofe of touch, to extend the province of 
 the former fenfe to a variety of qualities originally 
 perceived by the latter fenfe only, optical writers 
 have explained at great length ; but it is not necef- 
 fary for my prefent purpofe to enter into any partic- 
 ular details with refpecl to their reafonings on the 
 iiibjecft. It is fufficient for me to remark, that, ac- 
 cording to the received doclrine, the original percep- 
 tions of fight become, in confequence of experience, 
 fignsof the tangible qualities of external objects, and 
 of the diftances, at which they are placed from the 
 organ ; and that, although the knowledge we obtain, 
 in this manner, of thefe qualities and diftances, feems, 
 from early and conftant habits, to be an inftantane- 
 ous perception ; yet, in many cafes, it implies an ex- 
 ercife of the judgment, being founded on a compar- 
 ifon of a variety of different circumftances. 
 
 From thefe principles, it is an obvious confequence, 
 that the knowledge we obtain, by the eye, of the 
 tangible qualities of bodies, involves the exercile of 
 conception, according to the definition of that pow- 
 
IS4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 which has already been given. In ordinary difcourfe, 
 indeed, we afcribe this knowledge, on account of the 
 inftantaneoufnefs with which it is obtained, to the 
 power ot perception ; but if the common doctrine on 
 the fubjeA be juft, it is the refult of a complex ope- 
 ration of the mind ; comprehending, firft, the per- 
 ception of thofe qualities, which are the proper and 
 originalobje(Els of fight ; and, fecondly, the concep- 
 tion of thofe tangible qualities of which the original 
 perceptions of fight are found from experience to be 
 the figns. The notions, therefore, we form, by 
 means of the eye, of the tangible qualities of bodies, 
 and of the diftances of thefe objeds from the organ, 
 are mere conceptions ; ftrongly, and indeed indiflb- 
 lubly, aifociated, by early and conftant habit, with 
 the original perceptions of fight. 
 
 When we open our eyes on a magnificent profpect, 
 the various diftances at which all its different parts 
 are placed from the eye, and the immenfe extent of 
 the whole fcene before us, feems to be perceived as 
 immediately, and as inftantaneoufly, by the mind, as 
 the coloured furface which is painted on the retina. 
 The truth, however, unqueftionahly is, that this va- 
 riety of diftance, and this immenfity of extent, are 
 not objects of fenfe but of conception ; and the no- 
 tions we form of them when our eyes are open, dif- 
 fer from thofe we fliould form of them with our 
 eyes fhut, only in this, that they are kept fteadily in 
 the view of the mind, by being ftrongly affociated 
 with the fenfations of colour, and with the original 
 perceptions of fight. — This obfervation will be the 
 more readily admitted, if it be confidered, that, by 
 a Ikilful imitation of a natural landfcape, in a com- 
 mon fhew-box, the mind may be led to form the 
 fame notions of variety of diftance, and even of im- 
 menfe extent, as if the original fcene were prefented 
 to our fenfes : and that, although, in this cafe, we 
 have a fpeculative convidion that the fphere of our 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 vifion only extends to a few inches ; yet fo tv 
 is the airociation between the original perceptions^ 
 fight, and the conceptions which they habitually pr6. 
 duce, that it is not poffible for us, by any effort or 
 our will, to prevent thefe conceptions from taking 
 place. 
 
 From thefe obfervations it appears, that when the 
 conceptions of the mind are rendered fteady and 
 permanent, by being ftrongly affociated with any 
 fenfible impreflion, they command our belief no lefs 
 than our aciual perceptions ; and, therefore, if it 
 were poffible for us, with our eyes fhut, to keep up, 
 for a length of time, the conception of any fenfible 
 object, we fhould, as long as this effort continued, be- 
 lieve that the objed: was prefent to our fenfes. 
 
 It appears to me to be no flight confirmation of 
 thefe remarks, that although, in the dark, the illu- 
 fions of imagination are much more liable to be mif- 
 taken for realities, than when their momentary ef- 
 feds on the belief are continually checked and cor- 
 reded by the objects which the light of day prefents 
 to our perceptions ; yet, even total darknefs is not 
 fo alarming to a perfon impreifed with the vulgar 
 ftories of apparitions, as a faint and doubtful twilight, 
 which affords to the conceptions an opportunity of 
 fixing and prolonging their exiflence, by attaching 
 themfelves to fomething which is obfcurely exhibit- 
 ed to the eye. — In like manner, when we look 
 through a fog, we are frequently apt to miflake a 
 crow For a man ; and the conception we have, upon 
 fuch an occafion, of the human figure, is much more 
 diflind and much more fleady, than it would be poffi- 
 ble for us to form, if we had no fenfible object before 
 us ; infomuch that when on a more attentive obferva- 
 tion, the crow fhrinks to its own dimenfions, we iind 
 it impoffible, by any effort, to conjure up the phantom 
 which a moment before we feemed to perceive. 
 
 If thefe obfervations are admitted, the effects which 
 
J ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 exhibitions of fictitious diftrefs produce on the mind, 
 will appear lefs wonderful, than they are fuppofed to 
 be. During the reprefentation of a tragedy, I ac- 
 knowledge, that we have a general conviction that 
 the whole is a fidion ; but, I believe, it will be found, 
 that the violent emotions which are fometimes pro- 
 duced by the diftrelTes of the ftage, take their rife, 
 in moft cafes, from a momentary belief, that the dif- 
 treffes are real. I fay, in moft cafes ; becaufe I ac- 
 knowledge, that independently of any fuch belief, 
 there is fomething contagious in a faithful exprefflon 
 of any of the pailions. 
 
 The emotions produced by tragedy are, upon this 
 fuppofition, fomewhat analogous to the dread we 
 feel when we look down from the battlement of a 
 tower.* In both cafes, we have a general conviction, 
 that there is no ground for the feelings we experi* 
 ence ; but the momentary influences of imagination 
 are fo powerful as to produce thefe feelings, before 
 reflection has time to come to our relief. 
 
 * 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 as 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 precau- 
 tions for their own safety, but remain completely masters of them- 
 selves in situations where other men, engrossed with their imagi- 
 nary danger, would experience a total suspension of their faculties, 
 x^ny strong passion which occupies the mind produces, for the mo- 
 ment, the same effect with habit. A person alarmed with the ap- 
 prehension 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 ap.- 
 peared inaccessiMe after their violent passions had subsided. 
 
I 
 
 OF THE HUMAN MIND, 13? 
 
 CHAPTER FOURTR 
 
 Of AhJiraEiion. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 General obfervations on this Faculty of the Mind. 
 
 THE origin of appellative, or, in other words, the 
 t)rigin of thofe clalTes of objedls which, in the fchools, 
 are called genera^ 2Lndfpecies, has been confidered by 
 fome philofophers as one of the moft difficult prob- 
 lems in metaphyfics. The account of it which is 
 given by Mr. Smith, in his Diflertation on the Ori- 
 gin of Languages, appears to me to be equally fimple 
 and fatisfaclory. 
 
 " The aflignation'* (fays he) " of particular names, 
 *' to denote particular objeds ; that is, the inftitution 
 *' of nouns fubftantive ; would probably be one of 
 " the firft fteps towards the formation of Language. 
 *' The particular cave, whofe covering fheltered the 
 ** favage from the weather ; the particular tree, 
 *' whofe fruit relieved his hunger ; the particular 
 " fountain, whofe water allayed his thiril ; would 
 *' firft be denominated by the words, cave, tree, foun- 
 *' tain ; or by whatever other appellations he might 
 *' think proper, in that primitive jargon, to mark 
 *' them. Afterwards, when the more enlarged ex- 
 ** perience of this f ivage had led him to obferve, 
 *' and his neceffary occafions obliged him to make 
 " mention of, other caves, and other trees, and other 
 " fountains ; he would naturally beftow upon each 
 *' of thofe new objeds, the fame name by which he 
 *'' had been accuftomed to exprefs the fimilar objed 
 S 
 
1S8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " he was firft acquainted with. And thus, thofe 
 ** woods, which were originally the proper names of 
 " individuals, would each of them infenfibly become 
 " the common name of a multitude."* 
 
 " It is this application" (he continues) " of the 
 *' name of an individual to a great number of obje<5ls, 
 ** whofe refemblance naturally recals the idea of that 
 " individual, and of the name which expreffes it, 
 " that feems originally to have given occafion to the 
 " formation of thofe clafles, and affortments, which, 
 *' in the fchools, are called genera 2iud /pedes ; and of 
 *' which the ingenious and eloquent Rouffeau finds 
 ** himfelf fo much at a lofs to account for the origin. 
 " What conftitutes a /pedes, is merely a number o'f 
 *' objeds, bearing a certain degree of refemblance to 
 *' one another ; and, on that account, denominated 
 " by a fingle appellation, which may be applied to 
 *' exprefs any one of them."t 
 
 This view of the natural progrefs of the mind, in 
 forming claflifications of external obje<5ls, receives 
 fome illuftration from a fad mentioned by Captain 
 Cook in his account of a fmall illand called Wateeoo, 
 which he vifited in failing from New Zealand to the 
 Friendly iflands. " The inhabitants," fays he, were 
 " afraid to come near our cows and horfes, nor did 
 " they form the leaft conception of their nature, 
 " But the flieep and goats did not furpafs the limits 
 
 * The same account of the progress of the mind in the 
 formation of genera, is given by the Abbe de Condillac. 
 
 ** Un enfant appelle du nom cl^Arl/re le premier arbre 
 " que Hvous lui montfons. Un second arbre qu'il voit en- 
 '^ suite lui rapelle la meme idee ; il lui donne le meme 
 " nom ; de meme a un troisieme, a un quatrieme, et voila 
 " le mot d"* Arbre donne d'abord a un individu, qui devient 
 ** pDUf lui un nom de classe ou de g. nre, une idee abstraite 
 " qui comprend tous les arbres en general." 
 
 f Dissertation on the Origin of Languages, annexed t^ 
 Mr. Smith's Theory of Moral Sentiments. 
 
OP THE HUMAN MIN1>. 139 
 
 '^ of their ideas ; for they gave us to unclerftand that 
 " they knew them to be birds. It will appear^" he 
 adds, "rather incredible, that human ignorance could 
 " ever make fo ilrange a miftake, there, not being 
 " the moft diftant limilitude between a fheep or 
 " goat, and any winged animal. But thefe people 
 " feemed to know nothing of the exiftence of any 
 *' other land animals, befides hogs, dogs, and birds. 
 " Our (heep and goats, they could fee, were very 
 " different creatures from the two firfl, and therefore 
 " they inferred that they muft belong to the latter 
 " clafs, in which they knew that there is a conlider- 
 *' able variety of fpecies.*' — I would add to Cook's 
 very judicious remarks, that the miftake of thefe 
 iflanders probably did not arife from their coniider- 
 ing a flieep or a goat as bearing a more ftriking re- 
 femblance to a bird, than to the two claffes of quad- 
 rupeds with which they were acquainted ; but to 
 the want of a generic word, fuch as quadruped^ com- 
 prehending thefe two fpecies ; which men in their 
 fituation would no more be led to form, than a per- 
 fon who had only feen one individual of each fpecies, 
 would think of an appellative to exprefs both, inftead 
 of applying a proper name to each. In confequence 
 of the variety of birds, it appears, that they had a 
 generic name comprehending all of them, to which 
 it was not unnatural for them to refer any new ani- 
 mal they met with. 
 
 The claflihcatiou of different objects fuppofes a 
 power of attending to fome of their qualities or at- 
 tributes, without attending to the reft ; fi)r no two 
 objects are to be found without fome fpecific differ- 
 ence ; and no affortment or arrangement can bo for- 
 med among things not perfectly alike, but by lofing 
 fight of their diftinguifhing peculiarities, and limit- 
 ing the attention to thofc attributes which belong 
 to tliem in common. Indeed, without this power 
 of attending feparately to things which our feiifes 
 
140 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 prefent to us in a ftate of union, we never could have 
 had any idea of number ; for, before we can confider 
 different objeds as forming a multitude, it is necef- 
 fa: y that we fhould be able to apply to ail of them 
 one common name ; or, in other words, that we 
 fliould reduce them all to the fame genus. The va- 
 rious objeds, for example, animate and inanimate, 
 which are, at this moment, before me, I may clafs and 
 number in a variety of different ways, according to 
 the view of them that I chufe to take. I may reckon 
 fuccellively the number of (heep, of cows, of horfes, 
 of elms, of oaks, of beeches ; or I may firft reckon 
 the number of animals, and then the number of 
 trees ; or I may at once reckon the number of all 
 the organized fubftances which my fenfes prefent to 
 me. But whatever be the principle on which my 
 claflification proceeds, it is evident, that the objeds 
 numbered together, muft be conlidered in thofe re- 
 fpecls only in which they agree with each other ; 
 and that it I had no power of feparating the combi- 
 nations of fenfe, I never could have conceived them 
 as forming a plurality. 
 
 Ihis power of confidering certain qualities or at- 
 tributes of an objecl apart from the refl ; or, as I 
 would rather chufe to define it, the power which the 
 underftanding has, of feparating the combinations 
 which are prefented to it, is diflinguifhed by logi- 
 cians by the name of abjiradion. It has been fup- 
 pofed, by fome philofophers, (with what probability 
 I fhall not now inquire,) to form the characleriftical 
 attribute of a rational nature. That it is one of the 
 moil important of all our faculties, and very inti- 
 mately connected with the exercife of our reafoning 
 powers, is beyond difpute. And, I flatter myfelf, it 
 will appear from the fequel of this chapter, how 
 much the proper management of it conduces to the 
 fucccfs of our philofophical purfuits, and of our gen- 
 eral condud in life. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 141 
 
 The fubferviency of Abftraclion to the power of 
 Reafoiiing, and alfo, its fubferviency to the exertiv>ns 
 of a Poetical or Creative Imagination, (hall be after- 
 wards fully illuftrated. At prefent, it is fufEcient 
 for my purpofe to remark, that as abftra<5lion is the 
 ground- work of claffification, without this faculty 
 of the mind we Ihould have been perfectly incapable 
 of general fpeculation, and all our knowledge muft 
 necefTarily have been limited to individuals ; and 
 that fome of the moft ufeful branches of fcience, 
 particularly the different branches of mathematics, 
 in which the very fubjects of our reafoning are ab- 
 ftraclions of the underftanding, could never have 
 poilibly had an exiftence. With refped to the 
 fubferviency of this faculty to poetical imagination, 
 it is no lefs obvious, that, as the poet is fupplied 
 with all his materials by experience ; and as his 
 province is limited to combine and modify things 
 which really exift, fo as to produce new wholes of 
 his own ; fo every exertion which he thus makes of 
 his powers, prefuppofes the exercife of abftraclion 
 in decompohng and feparating actual combinations. 
 And it was on this account, that, in the chapter on 
 Conception, I was led to make a diftinclion between 
 that faculty, which is evidently hmple and uncom- 
 pounded, and the power of Imagination, which (at 
 leaft in the fenfe in which I employ the word in 
 thefe inquiries) is the refult of a combination of va- 
 rious other powers. 
 
 I have introduced thefe remarks, in order to point 
 out a difference between the -ibflradions which are 
 fubfervient to reafoning, and vhofe which are lubfer- 
 vient to imagination. And, if I am not miftaken,it is 
 a diflindion which has not been fufHcientiy attended 
 to by fome writers of eminence. In every inlf ance in 
 which imagination is employed in forming new 
 wholes, by decompounding and combining the per- 
 ceptions of fenfe, it is evidently nccelTary that the 
 
142 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 poet or the painter fhould be able to ftate to him- 
 felf the circumftances abftracled, as feparate objeds 
 of conception. But this is by no means requifite in 
 every cafe in which abftradion is fubfervient to the 
 power of reafoning ; for it frequently happens, that 
 we can reafon concerning one quality or property 
 of an objedl abftracted from the reft, while, at the 
 fame time, we find it impoflible to conceive it fepa- 
 rately. Thus, I can reafon concerning extenfion 
 and figure, without any reference to color ; although 
 it may be doubted, if a perfon poifefled of fight can 
 make extenfion and figure fteady objects of concep- 
 tion, without conneding with th^m one color or 
 another. Nor is this always owing (as it is in the 
 inftance now mentioned) merely to the affociatiou 
 of ideas ; for there are cafes, in which we can r6afon 
 concerning things leparately, which it is impoffible 
 for us to fuppofe any being fo conftituted as to con- 
 ceive apart. Thus, we can reafon concerning 
 length, abftracled from any other dimenfion ; al- 
 though, furely, no underftanding can make length, 
 without breadth, an object of conception. And, by 
 the way, this leads me to take notice of an error, 
 which mathematical teachers are apt to commit, in 
 explaining the firft principles of geometry. By 
 dwelling long on Euclid's firft definitions, they lead 
 the ftudent to fuppofe that they relate to notions 
 which are extremely myfterious ; and to ftrain his 
 powers in fruitlefs attempts to conceive, what cannot 
 poffibly be made an objed: of conception. If thefe 
 definitions were omitted, or very flightly touched 
 upon, and the attention at once directed to geomet- 
 rical reafonings, the ftudent would immediately per- 
 ceive, that although the lines in the diagrams are 
 really extended in two dimenfions, yet that the de- 
 monftrations relate only to one of them ; and that 
 the human underftanding has the faculty of reafon- 
 ing concerning things feparately, which are always 
 
OP THE ITUMAN MIND. 14S 
 
 prefented to us, both by our powers of perception 
 and conception, in a ftate of union. Such abftrac- 
 tions, in truth, are familiar to the moft illiterate of 
 mankind ; and it is in this very way that they are 
 infenfibly formed. When a tradefman fpeaks of the 
 length of a ruom, in contradillindion to its breadth ; 
 or when he fpeaks of the diftance between any two 
 objeds ; he forms exa<Elly the fame abftraclion, 
 which is referred to by Euclid in his fecond defini- 
 tion ; and which moft of his commentators have 
 thought it neceffiry to jlluftrate by prolix meta- 
 phyfical difquilitions. 
 
 I fhall only obferve farther, with refpe^l to the na- 
 ture and province of this faculty of the mind, that 
 notwithflanding its elTential fubferviency to every a£t 
 of claffification, yet it might have been exercifed, al- 
 though we had only been acquainted with one indi- 
 vidual objed. Although, for example, we had nev. 
 er feen but one rofe, we might ftill have been able 
 to attend to its color, without thinking of its other 
 properties. This has led fome philofophers to fup- 
 pofe, that another faculty befides abftradion, to 
 which they have given the name of generalization, 
 is neceffary to account for the formation of genera 
 and fpecies ; and they have endeavored to fhew, 
 that although generalization without abftradion is 
 impoflible ; yet that we might have been fo formed, 
 as to be aWe to abftradl, without being capable of 
 generalizing. The grounds of this opinion, it is not 
 neceffary for me to examine, for any of the purpof- 
 66 which I have at prefent in view. 
 
144 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 SECTION ir. 
 
 Of the ObjeSls of our Thoughts^ when we 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 
 philofophers, that the qualities of external objects 
 are perceived, by means of images or fpecies tranf- 
 mitted to the mind by the organs of fenfe : an opin- 
 ion of which I already endeavored to trace the ori- 
 gin, from certain natural prejudices fuggelled by 
 the phenomena of the material world, rhe fame 
 train of thinking has led them to fuppofe that, in 
 the cafe of all our other intelledual operations, there 
 exift in the mind certain ideas diftin6t from the 
 minditfelf; and that thefe ideas are the objeds a- 
 bout which our thoughts are employed. When I 
 recollect, for example, the appearance of an abfent 
 friend, it is fuppofed that the immediate objc£l of 
 my thought is an idea of' my friend ; which I at firft 
 received by my fenfes, and which I have been ena- 
 bled to retain in the mind by the faculty of memo- 
 ry. When I form to myfelf any imaginary combi- 
 nation by an effort of poetical invention, it is fup- 
 pofed in like manner, that the parts which I com- 
 bine, exV*ed previoufly in the mind ; and furnifh 
 the materials on wliich it is the province of imagin- 
 ation to operate. It is to Dr.* Reid we owe the im- 
 portant remark, that all thefe notions are wholly 
 hypothetical ; that it is impoiTible to produce a fiiad- 
 ow of evidence in fupport of them ; and that, even 
 although we were to admit their truth, they would 
 not render the phenomena in queflion more intelli- 
 gible. According to his principles, therefore, we 
 have no ground for fuppofing, that^ in any one op- 
 
 J 
 
©F THE HUMAN MIND. 145 
 
 eration of the mind, there exifts in it an objed dif- 
 tinct from the mind itfelf ; and all the common ex- 
 preflions which involve fuch a fuppofition are to be 
 confidered as unmeaning circumlocutions, which 
 ferve only to dlfguife from us the real hittory of the 
 intelledlual 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 tlian I have done in the text, in what 
 sense he calls in question the existence of idecv ; for the meaning 
 which this word is employed to convey in popular discourse, di£ 
 fers widely from that whicli 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 conoep- 
 ■** tion, apprehension, notion. To have an idea of any thir^g, is 
 ** to conceive it. To have a distinct idea, is to conceive it dis- 
 *' tmctly. To have no idea of it, is not to conceive 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 idea, it 
 " does not signify that act of the mind which we call thought, or 
 ^* conception, but some object of thought. Of the^e 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 ; a,nd others in the brain, 
 ** Of sensorium." p. 213. 
 
 *' The Peripatetic system of ppecies and phantasms, as well as 
 " the Platonic system of ideas, is grounded upon this principle, 
 *' that in every kind of thought, there must be some object that 
 " really exists ; in every operaiion of the mind, somtthir.g to work 
 ** upon. Whether thi:. '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 
 " objfcLs, is of no consequence in the present argument." Ibid. 
 p. -388. 
 
 *' So much is this opinion fixed in the minds of philosophers, 
 •* that, 1 doubt not but it will appear to most, a very strange par- 
 " adox, or rather a contradiction, that men should think without 
 ** ideas. But this appearance of contradiction arises from the am- 
 *' biguity 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 
 
 T 
 
146 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " We are ^t a lofs to know/' (fay? this excellent 
 philofopber,) " how we perceive diftant objeds j 
 *' how we remember things pafl ; how we imagine 
 " things that have no exiftence. Ideas in the mind 
 '' feem to account for all thefe operations ; they are 
 *' all by the means of ideas reduced to one opera- 
 *' tion ; to a kind of feeling, or immediate percep- 
 " tion of things prefent, and in contad with the 
 *' percipient ; and feeling is an operation fo famil- 
 *' iar, that we think it needs no explanation, but 
 " may ferve to explain other operations." 
 
 " But ihis 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 muft therefore be in the percipient, a power 
 *' to feel, or to perceive. How this power is produ- 
 *' ced, and how it operates, is quite beyond the reach 
 *' of oUr knowledge. As little can we know, wheth- 
 " er this power muft be limited to things prefent, 
 *' and in contact with us. Neither can any man 
 '^ pretend to prove, that the Being who gave us the 
 *' power to perceive things prefent, may not give 
 *' us the power to perceive thii.gs diftant, to remem- 
 " ber things paft, and to conceive things that never 
 « exifted.*'* 
 
 In another part of his work, Dr. Reid has occafion 
 
 " undoubtedly a oontradiction. But an idea, according to the def- 
 " inition given oi it by philosophers, is not thought, but an object 
 *' of thought, which really exists, and is perceived, &c." Ibid. p. 
 890. 
 
 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 explain- 
 ed ; it would be better, perhaps, to avoid it altogether ; but 1 have 
 found it difficult to do "^o, without adopting unusual niodes of ex- 
 pression. I flatter myself that 1 have used it with due caution, 
 
 * Essays on the Intellectual Powers, p. 214. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 14? 
 
 to trace the origin of the prejudice which has led phi- 
 lofophers to fuppofe, that, in all the operations of the 
 underftanding, there muft be an objed of thought, 
 which really exitls while we think of it. His re- 
 marks on this fubjedl, which are highly ingenious 
 and fatisfadory, are contained in his account of the 
 different theories concerning conception.* 
 
 As in all the ancient metaphyfical fyftems it was 
 taken for granted, (probably from the analogy of 
 ©ur external perceptions,) that every exertion of 
 thought implies the exiftence of an objed: diftinct 
 from the thinking being ; it naturally occurred, as 
 a very curious queftion. What is the immediate ob- 
 jed of our attention, when we are engaged in any 
 general fpeculation ? or, in other words, what is the 
 nature of the idea correfponding to a general term? 
 When I think of any particular obje<5t which I have 
 formerly perceived, fuch as a particular friend, a par- 
 ticular tree, or a particular mountain, lean compre- 
 hend what is meant by a picture or reprefentatioa 
 of fuch objects ; and therefore the explanation giv- 
 en by the ideal theory of that act of the mind which 
 we formerly called Conception, if not perfectly fatis- 
 fadtory, is at leaft not wholly unintelligible. But 
 what account Ihall we give, upon the principles of 
 this theory, of the objeds of my thoughts, when I 
 employ the words, friend, tree, mountain, as gener- 
 ic terms ? For, that all the things I have ever per- 
 ceived are individuals ; and confequently, that the 
 ideas denoted by general words, (if luch ideas exift,) 
 are not copied from any originals that have fallen 
 under my obfervation ; is not only felf-evident, but 
 almoft an identical propoiition. 
 
 In anfwer to this queftion, the Platonifts, and at a 
 ftill earlier period, the Pythagoreans, taught, that, 
 although thefe univerfal ideas are not copied from 
 
 * Essays on the Intellectual Powers, p. 378, 
 
148 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 any objects perceivable by fenfe, yet that they have 
 an exiltence independent of the human mind, and 
 are no more to be confounded with the underlland- 
 iiig, of which they are the proper objects, than ma- 
 terial things are to be confounded with our pr w- 
 ers of external perception : that as all the individu- 
 als which compofe a genus, muft polTefs fomething 
 in common ; and as it is in confequence of this, that 
 they belong to that genus, and are diftinguifhable 
 by the fame name, this comn.on thing forms the ef- 
 fence of each ; and is the objed of the underftand- 
 ing, when we reafon concerning the genus. They 
 maintained alfo, that this con mon efl'ence,* not- 
 withftanding its infeparable union with a m>uititude 
 of different individuals, is in itfelf one, and indivifi- 
 ble. 
 
 On mod of thefe points, the philofophy of Arlf- 
 totle feems to have coincided very nearly with that 
 of Plato. The language, ho v ever, which thefe phi- 
 lofophers employed on this lubjed was different, 
 ^nd gave to their doctrines the appearance of a wid- 
 er diverfiiy than probably exilled between their o- 
 pinions. While Plato was led, by his pailion for 
 the marvellous and the myfterious, to inlift on the 
 incomprehenfible union of the fam.e idea or eifence, 
 with a number of individuals, without multiplication 
 or divifion ;! Ariilotle, more cautious, and aiming at 
 
 * In this very imperfect sketch of the opinions of the ancients 
 concerning universalt-^ I have substituted, instead of the word i^^^?, 
 the ord esse^Ke, as better fitted to convey to a n odern reader the 
 true import of Plato's expressions. 1 he word emntta is said to have 
 hf en lirst emplo} ed by Cicero ; and it was afterwards adopted by 
 the schoolmen, in the same sense in which the Platonists uted the 
 word idea. See Dr. Keid's Essays on the Intellectual Powers, page 
 473. 
 
 t '* The idea of a thing," (says Plato,) " is that w hich makes 
 ** Q7ie of the nic.r.y ; which, preserving the unity ard inrcgrity ol its 
 " own nature, runs through and mixes with things it^inite jn 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 149 
 
 greater perfpicuity, contented himfelf with faying, 
 that all individuals are compofed of maiter and 
 form; and that it is in confequence of poiTefli cr a 
 common form, that different individuals belong to 
 the fame genus. But they both agreed, that, as the 
 matter, or the individual natures of objects were per- 
 ceived by fenfe ; fo the general idea, or effence, or 
 form, was perceived by the intellect ; and that, as 
 the attention of the vulgar was chiefly engrolTed with 
 the former, fo the latter furnifhed to the philofopher 
 the materials of his fpeculations. 
 
 The chief difference between the opinions of Plato 
 and Ariftotle on the fubjedt of ideas, related to the 
 mode of their exiftence. That the matter of which 
 all things are made, exifted from eternity, was a 
 principle which both admitted ; but Plato farther 
 taught, that, of every fpecies of things, there is an 
 idea or form which alfo exifted from eternity ; and 
 that this idea is the exemplar or model according to 
 which the individuals of the fpecies were made ; 
 whereas Ariftotle held, that, although matter may 
 exift without form, yet that forms could not exift 
 without matter.* 
 
 <* numbpr ; and yet, however multiform it may appear, is always 
 " the same • so that by it we find out and discriminate the thing, 
 ** whatever shapes it may assume, and under whatever disguise it 
 ** may cunceal itself." — Flaio in Philebo ; (q loted by ttje Au- 
 thor of the Origin and progress of Language, vol. i. p. 100, 2d 
 edit.) 
 
 * In this axjcour^t of the difference betweeit Plato and Aristotle 
 on the subject of ideas, 1 have chiefly followed Brucker, whose 
 -very laborious researches with respect to 'his 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 
 tlie subject is involved in much obscurity, and has divided the 
 opinions of verv eminent writers. The reader will find the result 
 of Brucker's inquiries, in his own words, in Note QF.3 
 
 The authority of Brucker, in this instance, has the more weight 
 
150 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The dodrine of the Stoics concerning univerfals, 
 differed widely from thofe both of Plato and Arifto- 
 tle, and feems to have approached to a fpeculation 
 which is commonly fuppofed to be of a more recent 
 origin, and which an eminent philofopher of the pref- 
 ent age has ranked among the difcoveries which do 
 the greateft honour to modern genius.* 
 
 Whether this doctrine of the Stoics coincided en* 
 tirely with that of the Nominalifts, (whofe opinions 
 I fhall afterwards endeavour to explain,) or whether 
 it did not refemble more, a doctrine maintained by 
 another feci of fchoolmen called Conceptualifts, I fhall 
 not inquire. The determination of this queftion is 
 interefiing only to men of erudition ; for the knowl- 
 edge we pofTefs of this part of the Stoical philofophy, 
 is too imperfect to afllil us in the farther profecution 
 of the argument, or even to diminifh the merit of 
 thofe philofophers who have, in modern times, been 
 led to iimilar conclufions.f 
 
 with me, as it coincides in the noost 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 particu- 
 lars 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 Alexandrian 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. Ir; so far as the ideal theory 
 was an attempt to explain the manner in which our general spec- 
 ulations 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 Progress of Language,'* 
 vol. i. p. 33. 2d edit. 
 
 * Treatise of Human Nature, book i. part i. sect. 7. 
 
 t See Note [G.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 151 
 
 As it IS not my obje^l, in this work, to enter into 
 hiftorical details, any farther than is neceflary for il- 
 luftrating the fubjefts of which I treat, I (hall pafs 
 over the various attempts which were made by the 
 Ecledic philofophers, (a feci which arofe at Alexan- 
 dria about the beginning of the third century,) to 
 reconcile the dodlrines of Piaro and Ariftotle con- 
 cerning ideas. The endlefs difficulties, it would ap- 
 pear, to which their fpeculations led, induced, at iaft, 
 the more cautious and modeft inquiries to banifh 
 them entirely from Dialedics, and to content them- 
 felves with ftudying the arrangements or claflifica- 
 tions of univerfals, which the antient philofophers 
 had made, without engaging in any metaphyfical 
 difquifitions concerning their nature. Porphyry, in 
 particular, although he tells us, that he had fpecula- 
 ted much on this fubjecl ; yet, in his Introduction 
 to Ariftotle's Categories, waves the confideration of 
 it as obfcure and intricate. On fuch queftions as 
 thefe 'y " Whether genera and fpecies exift in nature, 
 " or are only conceptions of the Human Mind ; and 
 *' (on the fuppolition that they exift in nature) 
 ** whether they are inherent in the objedls of fenfe, 
 *' or disjoined from them ?" he declines giving any 
 determination. 
 
 This paffage in Porphyry's Introduction is an ob- 
 jed of curioiity ; as, by a fmgular concurrence of 
 circumftances, it ferved to perpetuate the memory 
 of a controverfy from which it was the author's in- 
 tention to divert the inquiries of his readers. Amidft 
 the diforders produced by the irruptions of the Bar- 
 barians, the knowledge of the Greek tongue was al- 
 moft entirely loft ; and the ftudies of philofophers 
 were confined to Latin verfions of Ariftotle's Di.'.lec- 
 tics, and of Porphyry's Introduction concerning the 
 Categories. With men who had a relifli for fuch 
 difquifitions, it is probable that the pi^fiage already 
 quoted from Porphyry, would have a rendcncy rath- 
 
152 ELEMENTS OE THE l»mLOSOPHY 
 
 er to excite than to damp curiofity ; and according* 
 ly, we have reafon to believe, that the controverfy 
 to which it relates continued, during the dark ages, 
 to form a favourite fuhject of diicullion. The opin- 
 ion which was prevalent was, (to ufe the fcholafiic 
 language of the times,) that univerfals do not exift 
 before things, nor after things, but in things \ that is, 
 (if I may be allowed to attempt a commentary upon 
 expreffions to which I do not pretend to be able to 
 annex very precife notions,) univerfal ideas have not 
 (as Plato thought) an exiflence feparable from indi- 
 vidual objefts ; and, therefore, they could not have 
 exiiled prior to them in the order of time ; nor yet, 
 (according to the dodlrine of the Stoics,) are they 
 mere conceptions of the mind, formed in confequence 
 of an examination and comparifon of particulars ; 
 but thele ideas or forms are from eternity unitedin* 
 feparably with that matter of which things confiit ; 
 ©r, as the Ariftotelians fometimes exprefs themfelves, 
 the forms of things are from eternity immerfed in 
 matter. — The reader will, I hope, forgive me for en- 
 tering into thefe details, not only on account of t^^eir 
 connection with the obfervations which are to follow; 
 but as they relate to a controverfy which, for maijy 
 ages, employed all the ingenuity and learning in Eu- 
 rope ; and which, therefore, however frivolous in it- 
 felf, deferves the attention of phiioiophers, as one of 
 the mod curious events which occurs in the hiftory 
 of the Human Mind. 
 
 Such appears to have been the prevailing opinion 
 concerning the nature of univerlals, till the eleven tUj 
 century ; when a new do6trinc, or (as fome autho 
 think) a doctrine borrowed from the fchool of Zen( 
 was propofed by Rofcelinus ;* and foon after ver 
 widely propagated over Europe by the abilities anj 
 eloquence of oneof hisfcholars, the celebrated Pet( 
 
 * See Note [H.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 1^ 
 
 Abelard. According to thefe philofophers, there are 
 no exiftences in nature correfponding to general 
 terms ; and the objeds of our attention in all our 
 general fpeculations are not ideas, but words. 
 
 In confequence of this new doctrine, the fchoolmen 
 gradually formed thenifelves into two fedls : one of 
 which attached itfelf to the opinions of Rofcelinus and 
 Abelard ; while the other adhered to the principles 
 of Aridotle. Of thefe fecfs, the former are known 
 in literary hiftory by the name of the Nominalifts j 
 the latter by that of the Realiils. 
 
 As it is with the doctrine of the Nominalifts that 
 my own opinion cm this fubject coincides ; and as I 
 propofe to deduce from it fome confequences, which 
 appear to me important, 1 (hall endeavor to ftate it 
 as clearly and precifely as I am able, purfuing, how- 
 ever, rather the train of my own thoughts, than 
 guided by the reafonings of any particular author. 
 
 I formerly explained in what manner the words, 
 which, in the infancy of language, were proper 
 names, became gradually appellatives ; in confe- 
 quence of which extenlion of their fignification, they 
 would exprefs, when applied to individuals, thofe 
 qualities only which are common to the whole gen- 
 us. Now, it is evident, that, with refpedt to indi- 
 viduals of the favne genus, there are two clafles of 
 truths ; the one, particular truths relating to each 
 individual ap2.rt, and deduced from a confideration 
 of its peculiar and diftinguifhing properties ; the 
 other, general truths, deduced trom a confideration 
 of their common qualities ; and equally applica- 
 ble to all of them. Such truths may be conven- 
 iently exprefled, by means of general terms j fo as 
 to form propofitions, comprehending under them as 
 many particular truths, a^ there are individuals com- 
 prehended under the general terms. It is farther 
 evident, that there are two ways in which fuch gen- 
 eral truths may be obtained ; either by fixing the 
 U 
 
154 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 attention on one individual, in fuch a manner that 
 our reafoning may involve no circumftmces but 
 thofe which are common to the whole genus ; or, 
 (laying afide entirely the conlideration of things,) by 
 means of the general terms with which language 
 fuppl'es us. In either of thefe cafes, our inveftiga- 
 tions muft neceffarily lead us to general conclufions. 
 In the firft cafe ; our attention being limited to 
 thofe circumftances, in which the fubjecl of our rea- 
 foning refembles all other individuals of the fame 
 genus, whatever we demonftrate with refped: to this 
 fubjecl muft be true of every other to which the 
 fame attributes belong. In the fecond cafe ; the 
 fubjedt of our reafoning being expreifed by a generic 
 word, which applies in common to a number of in- 
 dividuals, the conclufion we form muft be as exten- 
 five in its application, as the name of the fubjecl is in 
 its meaning. The former procefs is analogous to 
 the pradice of geometers, who in their moft general 
 reafonings, dired the attention to a particular dia- 
 gram : the latter, to that of algebraifts, who carry 
 on their inveftigations by means of fymbols.* In cafes 
 of this laft fort, it may frequently happen, from the 
 affociation of ideas, that a general word may recal 
 fome one individual to which it is applicable ; but 
 this is fo far from being neceifary to the accuracy of 
 our reafoning, that, excepting in fome cafes, in which 
 it may be ufeful to check us in the abufe of general 
 
 * These two iivetliods of obtaining general truths proceed on 
 the same principles ; and are in fact, much less different from each 
 other, than they appear tp be, at first view. When we carry on 
 a process of general reasoning, by fixing our attention on a partic- 
 ular individual of a genus, this individual is to be considered merely 
 as a sign or representative ; and differs from any other sign only m 
 this, that it bears a certain retsemblance 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 ex- 
 pressions of these magnitudes, in the same respects which picture- 
 writing differs from arbitrary characters. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 155 
 
 terms, it always has a tendency, more or lefs, to 
 miflead us from the truth. As the decifion of a judge 
 muft neceffarily be impartial, when he is only ac- 
 quainted with the relations in which the parties (land 
 to each other, and when their names are fupplied by 
 letters of the alphabet, or by the fiditious names of 
 Titius, Caius, and Sempronius ; fo, in every procefs 
 of reafoning, the concluiion we form is moft likely 
 to be logically juft, when the attention is confined 
 folely to figns ; and when the imagination does not 
 prefent to it thofe individual objeds which may warp 
 the judgment by cafual affociations. 
 
 To thefe remarks, it may not be improper to add, 
 that although in our fpeculations concerning indi- 
 viduals, it is pollible to carry on procelTes of reafon- 
 ing, by fixing our attention on the objeds themfelves, 
 without the ufe of language ; yet it is alfo in our 
 power to accomplifli the fame end, by fubilituting 
 for thefe objects, words, or other arbitrary figns. 
 The difference between the employments of language 
 in fuch cafes, and in our fpeculations concerning 
 claffes or genera, is ; that in the former cafe the ufe 
 of words is, in a great meafure, optional ; whereas, 
 in the latter, it is eflentially neceffary. This obfer- 
 vation deferves our attention the more, that, if I am 
 not miftaken, it has contributed to miflciid fome of 
 the Realifts ; by giving rife to an idea, that the ufe 
 of language, in thinking about univerfals, however 
 convenient, is not more neceffary than in thinking 
 about individuals. 
 
 According to this view of the procefs of the mind, 
 in carrying on general fpeculations, that idea which 
 the antient philofophers confidered as the ciTence of 
 an individual, is nothing more than the particular 
 quality or qualities in which it refembles other indi- 
 viduals of the fame clafs ; and in confequence of 
 which, a generic name is applied to it. It is the pof- 
 feflion of this quality, that entitles the individual to 
 
156 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 the generic appellation ; and which, therefore, may 
 be faid to be eflential to its claffification vvirh that 
 particular genus ; but as all clarifications are to a 
 certain degree arbitrary, it does not neceffaniy tol- 
 low, that it is more effentiai to its exiflence as an in- 
 dividual, than various other qualities which we are 
 accuftomed to regard as accidental. In other words, 
 (if I may borrow the language of modern philolo- 
 phy,) this quality forms its nominal, but not its real 
 elTence. 
 
 Thefe obfervations will, I flatter myfelf, be fuffi- 
 cient for the latisfaclion of fuch of my readers as are 
 at all converfant with philofophical inquiries. Fur 
 the fake of others, to whom this dilquifition may 
 be new, I have added the following illullrations. 
 
 J fhall have occafion to examine, in another part 
 of my work, how far it is true, (as is commonly be- 
 lieved,) that every procefs of reafoning may be re- 
 folved into a feries of fyilogifms ; and to point out 
 fome limitations, with which, 1 apprehend, it is ne- 
 cefTary that this opinion fliould be received. As it 
 would lead me, however, too far from n':y preient 
 fubjed, to anticipate any part of the doctrine which 
 I am then to propof , I fhall, in the following re- 
 marks, proceed on the fuppofition, that the fyllogiftic 
 theory is well-founded ; a fuppofition which, altho' 
 not fi:ri(5lly agreeable to truth, is yet fufhciently ac- 
 curate for the ufe which I am now to make of it. 
 Take, then, any flep of one of Euclid's demonflra- 
 tions ; for example, the firil flep of his firft propofi- 
 tion, and flate it in the form of a fyllogifm. — " All 
 *' flrait lines, drawn from the centre of a circle to the 
 *^ circumference, are equal to one another." " But A 
 *' B, and C D, are flraight lines, drawn from the centre 
 '' of a circle to the circumference. Therefore, A B 
 " is equal to C D." — It is perfe<5l:iy manifeff , that, in 
 order to feel the force of this conclufion, it is by no 
 means neceffary, that I fliould annex any particular 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 157 
 
 notions to the letters AB or CD, or that I fhould 
 comprehend what is meant by equality^ or by a circle^ 
 its centre^ and its circumference. Every perfon muft 
 be latisfied, that the truth of the conclulion is ne- 
 celTarily implied in that of the two preniites ; w hat- 
 ever the particular things may be to which thefe 
 premifes may relate. In the following fyllnglfm, 
 too : — *' All men mull die ; — Peter is a man ; — there- 
 *' fore Peter muft die ;" — the evidence of the conclu- 
 fion does not in the ieaft depend on the particular 
 notions 1 annex to the words man^ and Peter ; but 
 would be equally complete, if we were to fubltitute 
 inftead oF them, two letters of the alphabet, or any 
 other iniignificant characters. — " All X's muft die ; 
 *' — Z is an X ; — therefore Z muft die ;" — is a lyllo- 
 gifm which forces the affent nolefs than the former. 
 It is farther obvious, that this fyllogifm would be 
 equally conclufive, if, inftead of the word die^ I were 
 to fubftitute any other verb that the language con- 
 tains ; and that, in order to perceive the juftneis of 
 the inference, it is not even neceffary that I fhouid 
 underftand its meaning. 
 
 In general, it might be eafily fhewn, that all the 
 rules of logic, with refpecl to lyllogifms, might be 
 demonftrated, without having recourfe to any thing 
 but letters of the alphabet ; in the fame manner, 
 (and I may add, on the very fame principles,) on 
 which the algebraift demonftrates, by means of thefe 
 letters, the various rules for tranfpofing the terms of 
 an equation- 
 
 From what has been faid, it follows, that the af- 
 fent we give to the conciufion of a fyllogifm does 
 not refult from any examination of the notions ex-" 
 preiled by the different propositions of which it is 
 composed, but is an immediate confequence of the 
 relations in which the words ftand to each other. 
 The truth is, that, in every fyllogism, the inference 
 is only a particular inftance of the general axiom. 
 
158 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 that whatever is true universally of any fign, muft 
 also be true of every individual which that fign can 
 be euipioyed to exprefs. Adiritting, therefore, 
 that every procels ot reasoning may be refolved in- 
 to a ieries of fyllogiims, it follows, that this opera- 
 tion of the mind furnifhes no proof of the exiftence 
 of any thing correfponding to general terms, dis- 
 tind from the individuals to which thefe terms are 
 applicable. 
 
 rhese remarks, I am very fenfible, do, by no 
 means, exhaufl the fubjed ; for there are various 
 nujJes of reaioning, to which the fylogiftic theory 
 does not apply. 13ut,in ail of them, without excep- 
 tion, it will be found, on examination, that the evi- 
 dence of our -^oncfulions appears imn ediately from 
 the confideration of the words in which the premif- 
 es are exprefl'ed ; without any reference to the 
 things which they denote. Ihe imperfect account 
 which is given of dedudive evidence, in the recei- 
 ved fyftems of logic, makes it iti.pofTible for me, in 
 this place, to profecute the fubjed ar.y farther. 
 
 After all that I have faid on the ule of laiiguage 
 as an inftrument of reafoning, I can ealily foreiee a 
 variety of objedions, which may occur to the di»d- 
 rine I have been endeavouring to eftablifh. But 
 without entering into a particular examination of 
 thefe ohjedions, I believe 1 may venture to afjirm, 
 that moii:, if not all, of them take their rife from 
 confounding reafoning, or dedudion. properly so 
 called, with certain other intelledual procefies, 
 which ir la nectfiary for us to employ in the invefti- 
 gation of truth. That it is frequently of effential 
 importance to us, in our fpeculations, to withdraw 
 our attention from w^ords, and to dired it to the 
 things they denote, I am very ready to acknowl- 
 edge. All that I afTert is, that, in so far as our 
 fpeculations con (id of that procefs of the mind which 
 is properly called reafoning, they may be carried on 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 159 
 
 by words alone ; or, which comes to the fame thing, 
 that every procefs of reafoning is perfectly analo- 
 gous to an algebraical operation. What 1 mean by 
 " the other intelle<5lual procefTes diftin<51: from rea- 
 *' foning, which it is neceflary for us fometimes to 
 " employ in the inveftigation of truth," will, I hope, 
 appear clearly from the following remarks. 
 
 In algebraical inveftigations, it is well known, 
 that the practical application of a general expreffion, 
 is frequently limited by the conditions which the 
 hypothefis involves ; and that, in confequence of a 
 want of attention to this circumftance, fome math- 
 ematicians of the firft eminence have been led to a- 
 dopt the moft paradoxical and abfurd conclufions> 
 Without this cautious exercise of the judgment, in 
 the interpretation of the algebraical language, no 
 dexteritv in the use of the calculus will be fufficient 
 
 4 
 
 to preferve us from error. Even in algebra, there- 
 fore, there is an application of the intellectual pow- 
 ers perfedily diftindt from any procefs of reafoning ; 
 and which is abfolutely neceflary for conducting us 
 to the truth. 
 
 In geometry, we are not liable to adopt the fame 
 paradoxical conclufions, as in algebra ; becaufe the 
 diagrams to which our attention is directed, ferve 
 as a continual check on our reafoning powers. 
 Thefe diagrams exhibit to our very fenfes, a variety 
 of relations among the quantities under confidera- 
 tion, which the language of algebra is too general 
 to exprefs ; in confequence of which, we are not 
 confcious of any effort of the judgment diftinct from 
 a procefs of reafoning. As every geometrical in- 
 veftigation, however, may be exprefled algebraxally, 
 it is manifeft, that, in geometry, as well as in alge- 
 bra, there is an exercife of the intellectual powers, 
 diftinct from the logical procefs ; although, in the 
 former fcience, it is rendered iiy eafy, by the ufe of 
 diagrams, as to efcape our attention. 
 
160 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The fame fource of error and of abfurdity, which 
 exiils in algebra, is to be found, in a much greater 
 degree, in the other branches of knowledge. Ah- 
 ftracting entirely from the ambiguity of laniruage ; 
 and fuppofing alfo our reafonings to be logically ac- 
 curate, it would ftill be neceffary for us, from time to 
 time, in all our fpeculations, tp lay alide the ufe of 
 words, and to have recourfe to particular examples, 
 or illuftrations, in order to correct and to limit our 
 general concluiions. — To a want of attention to this 
 circumftance, a number of the fpeculative abfurdi- 
 ties which are current in the world, might, I am 
 perfuaded, be eafily traced. 
 
 Belides, however, this fource of error, which is in 
 fome degree common to all the fciences, there is a 
 great variety of others, from which mathematics 
 are entirely exempted : and which perpetually tend 
 to lead us aftray in our philofophical inquiries. Of 
 thefe, the moft important is, that ambiguity in the 
 fignification of words, which renders it fo difficult 
 to avoid employing the fame expreflions in different 
 fenfes, in the courfe of the fame procefs of reafon- 
 ing. This fource of miftake, indeed, is apt, in a 
 much greater degree, to affect our conclufions in 
 metaphyfics, morals, and politics, than in the differ- 
 ent branches of natural philofophy ; but, if we ex- 
 cept mathematics, there is no fcience whatever, in 
 which it has not a very fenfible influence. In alge- 
 bra, we may proceed with perfect fafety through 
 the longed: inveftigations, without carrying our at- 
 tention beyond the ligns, till we arrive at the laft re- 
 fult. But in the other fciences, excepting in thol 
 cafes in which we have fixed the meaning of all oui 
 terms by accurate definitions, and have rendered th< 
 ufe of thefe terms perfectly familiar to us by ver] 
 long habit, it is but feldom that we can proceed ii 
 this manner without danger of error. In many ci 
 fes, it is neceffary for us to keep up, during th^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 161; 
 
 whole of our inveftigations, a fcrupulous and con- 
 ftant attention to the (ignification of our exprefiions ; 
 and, in mofl cafes, this caution in the ufe of words, 
 is a much more difficult effort of the mind, than the 
 logical procefs. But iliil this furniflies no excep- 
 tion to the general do6lrine already delivered j for 
 the attention we find it neceifary to give to the im- 
 port of our words, arifes only from the accidental 
 circHmftance of their ambiguity, and has no effen- 
 tial cbnne(flion with that procefs of the mind, which 
 is properly called reafoning ; and which confills in 
 the inference of a conclufion from premifes. In all 
 the fciences, this procefs of the mind is perfedlly a- 
 nalogous to an algebraical operation ; or, in other 
 words, (when the meaning of our expreffions is once 
 fixed by definitions,) it may be carried on intirely 
 by the ufe of figns, without attending, during the 
 time of the procefs, to the things fignified. 
 
 The conclufion to which the foregoing obferva- 
 tions lead, appears to me to be decifive of the queC- 
 tion, with refped to the objects of our thoughts 
 when we employ general terms ; for if it be grant- 
 ed, that words, even when employed without any 
 reference to their particular fignification, form an 
 inftrument of thought fufficient for all the purpofes 
 of reafoning; the only fliadow of an argument in 
 proof of the common do<5i:rine on the iuhjecl, (I 
 mean that which is founded on the impoffibility of 
 explaining this procefs of the mind on any other hy- 
 pothefis,) falls to the ground. Nothing lefs, furely, 
 than a convi<5lion of this impoffihiiity, could have fo 
 long reconciled philoibphers to an hypothefis unfup- 
 ported bv any diredl evidence ; and acknowledged 
 even by its warmeft defenders, to involve muchdif* 
 ficulty and myfi:ery. 
 
 It does not fall within my plan, to enter, in this 
 part of my work, into a particular confideration of 
 the practical confecjueates which loiiow from tUe 
 
162 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 foregoing doi^rine. I cannot, however, help re- 
 marking the innpartance of cultivating, on the one 
 hand, a talent for ready and various iiluftration ; 
 and, on the other, a habit of reafoning by means of 
 general terms. The former talent is neceflary, not 
 only for corred:ing and limiting our general conclu- 
 fions, but for enabling us to apply our knowledge, 
 when occalion requires, to its real practical ufc. The 
 latter ferves the double purpofe, of preventing our 
 attention from being diftracted during the courfe of 
 our reafonings, by ideas which are foreign to the 
 point in queilion ; and of diverting the attention 
 from thofe conceptions of particular objedtsand par- 
 ticular events which might diflurb the judgment, 
 by the ideas and feelings, which are apt to be affo- 
 ciated with them, in confequence of our own cafual 
 experience. 
 
 This laft obfervation points out to us, alfo, one 
 principal foundation of the art of the orator. As 
 his obje6l is not fo much to inform and to fatisfy the 
 underflandings of his hearers, as to force their im- 
 mediate affent ; it is frequently of ufe to him to 
 clothe his reafonings in that fpecific and figurative 
 language, which may either awaken in their minds 
 aflbciations favorable to his purpofe, or may divert 
 their attention from a logical examination of his ar- 
 gument. A procefs of reafoning fo expreffed, af 
 fords at once an exercife to the judgment, lo the imi 
 agination, and to the paflions ; and is apt, evei 
 when loofe and inconiequential, to impofe on tlu 
 bell underftandings. 
 
 It appears farther, from the remarks which hav< 
 been made, that the perfedion of philofophical Ian;i 
 guage, confidered either as an infirurricnt of thought; 
 or as a medium of communication with others^ con- 
 fifts in the ufe of expreflions, which from their gen- 
 erality, have no tendency to awaken the powers o£ ^ 
 conception and imagination ^ or, in other words, it j 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 163 
 
 confifts in its approaching, as nearly as pofTible, in 
 its nature, to the language of algebra. And hence 
 the effects which long habits of philofophical fpecu- 
 lation have, in weakening, by difufe, thofe faculties 
 of the mind, which are neceffary for the exertions 
 of the poet and the orator ; and of gradually form- 
 ing a ftyle of compofition, which they who read 
 merely for amufement, are apt to cenfure for a want 
 of vivacity and of ornament. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Remarks on the Opinions of fome modern Fhilofophers on 
 the Subjed of the foregoing SeStion, 
 
 AFTER the death of Abelard, through whofe a* 
 bilities and eloquence the fed of Nominalifts had 
 enjoyed, for a few years, a very fplendid triumph, 
 the fyftem of the Realifts began to revive ; and it 
 was foon fo completely re-eftablifhed in the fchools, 
 as to prevail, with little or no oppofition, till the 
 fourteenth century. What the circumlhnces were, 
 which led philofophers to abandon a do<5lrine, which 
 feems fo ftrongly to recommend itfelf by its fimpli- 
 city, it is not very eafy to conceive. Probably the 
 heretical opinions, which had fubjed:ed both Abe- 
 lard and Rofcelinus to the cenfure of the church, 
 might create a prejudice alfo againft their philofoph- 
 ical principles ; and probably too, the manner in 
 which thefe principles were ftated and defended, 
 was not the cleared, nor the moft fatisfaclory.* The 
 principal caufe, however, I am difpofed to think, of 
 the decline of the fedl of Nominalills, was their want 
 
 ♦ The great argument which the Nominalists employed against 
 the existence of universals was : " Entia non sunt multiplicanda 
 
 '■' prajter nsc.-^Siitateno." 
 
164 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of fome palpable example, by means of which they 
 might illuftrate their doci:rine. It is by the ufe 
 which algebraifts make of the letters of the alphabet 
 in carrying on their operations, that Leibnitz and 
 Berkeley have been moil fucceisful in explaining the 
 ufe of language as an inllrument of thought; and,as in 
 the Xllth century, the algebraical art was entirely un^ 
 known,RofceUnus and Abelard muft have been redu- 
 ced to the neceffity ot conveying their leading idea 
 by general circumlocutions ; and muft have found 
 conliderable difficulty in ftating it in a manner fatis- 
 fadory to themfelves : a confideration, by the way, 
 •which, if it accounts for the flow progrefs which 
 this dodlrine made in the world, places in the more 
 ftr iking light, the genius of thofe men whole fagacity 
 led them, under fo great difadvantages, to approach 
 fc a conc'ufion fo juft and pliilofophic il in itfelf, and 
 fo oppofite to the prevailing opinions of their age. 
 
 In the fourteenth century, this fe<^feems to have 
 been almoft completely extindl ; their doctrine being 
 equally reprobated by the two great parties which 
 then divided the fchools, the followers of Duns Sco- 
 tus and of Thomas Aquinas. Thefe, although they 
 differed in their manner of explaining the nature of 
 \uuverfals, and oppofed each other's opinions wiih 
 much afperity, yet united in reje^ling the dodrine 
 of the Nominalifts, not only as abfurd, but as lead- 
 ing to the moft dangerous confequences. At laft, 
 William Occam, a native of England, and a fchilar 
 of Duns Scotus, revived the ancient controverfy : 
 and with equal ability and fuccefs vindicated the 
 long-abandoned philofophy of Rofcelinus. From 
 this time the difpute was carried on with great 
 warmth, in the univerfities of France, of Germany, 
 and of England ; more particularly in the two for- 
 mer countries, where the fovereigns were led, by 
 fom.e political views, to intereft themfelves deeply 
 in the conteft j and even to employ the civil power 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINB. J 65 
 
 in fupporting their favorite opinions. The emperor 
 Lewis of Bavarii, in return for the afliriance which, 
 in his difputes with the Pope,* Occam had given to 
 him by his writings, fided with the Nominalifts. 
 Lewis the Eleventh of France, on the other hand, at- 
 tached himfelf to the Realifts, and made their an- 
 tagonifh the objects of a cruel pcrfecution.f 
 
 The proteftant reformation, at length involved 
 xnen of learning in difcuflions of a more interefting 
 nature ; but even the zeal of theological controver- 
 fy could hardly exceed that with which the N omin- 
 alifts and Realifts had for fometime before maintain- 
 ed their reipe£tive doctrines. " Clamores primuru 
 " ad ravim," cfays an author who had himfelf been 
 an eye-witnefs of thefe Uterary difputes) " hinc im- 
 " probitas, faunae, minae, convitia, dum luclantur, et 
 " uterque alterum tentat profternere : confumtis 
 *' verbis venitur ad pugnos, ad veram lu6tam ex fi(5i:a 
 " et fimulata. Quia etiam, qua2 contingunt in palae- 
 " ftra, illic non defunt, colaphi, alapae, confputio, cal- 
 " ces, morfus, etiam quae jam fupra leges palaeftrae, 
 " fufles, ferrum, faucii multi, nonnunquam occi(i.**+ 
 That this account is not exaggerated, we have the 
 teftimony of no lefs an author than Erafmus, who 
 mentions it as a common occurrence : " Eos ufque 
 *' ad pallorem, ufque ad convitia, ufque ad fputa, 
 *' nonnunquam et ufque ad pugnos invicem digladi- 
 *' ari, alios ut Nominales, alios ut Reales, loqui,"§ 
 
 * Occam, we are told, was accustomed to say to the Emperor : 
 " Tu me defendas gladio, et ego te defeadam calaino.'* Brucker, 
 vol. iii. p. 848. 
 
 t Mostieim's Ecclesiastical History. 
 
 t LUDOVICUS ViVES. 
 
 § The Nominalists procured the death of John Haes, who was 
 a "Realist ; and in their letter to Lewis King of France, do not pre- 
 tend to deny that he fell a victim to the resentment of their gect. 
 The Realists, on the other hand, obtained, in the year 1479, the 
 condemnation of John de Wesalia, who was attached to the party 
 
166 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The difpute to which the foregoing obfervations 
 relate, although for fome time after the Reformation, 
 interrupted by theological difquifitions, has been 
 fince occafionally revived by difff^rent writers ; and, 
 fingular as it may appear, it has not yet been brought 
 to a concluiion in which all parties are agreed. 1 he 
 names, indeed, of Nominalifts and Realitls ex^ft no 
 longer ; but the point in difpute between thefe two 
 celebrated ieds, coincides precifely wirh a queftion 
 which has been agitated in our own times, ano which 
 lias led to one of the moli beautiful fpeculations of 
 modern philofcphy. 
 
 Of the advocates who have appeared for the doc- 
 trine of the Nviminalifts, (ince the revival of letters, 
 the moft diilinguifhed are, Hobbes, Berkeley, and 
 Hume. The firft has, in various parts of his works, 
 reprobated the hypotheiis of the Realiils ; and has 
 ftated the opinions of their antagonifts with that 
 acutenefs, fimplicity, and precifion, which diftinguifh 
 all his writings.* The fecond, coniidering (and in 
 
 of the Nominalists. These eontfending sects carried their fury so 
 far as to charge each other with ** the sin against tiie Hoi/ 
 Ghost." 
 
 Mosheim's Ecclesiastical History. 
 
 * *' The nniversaiity of one name to many things, hath been the 
 " cause that men think the thing.-' 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 somethifig else, that we call Man, viz. Man in g:eneraj ; de- 
 *' ceiving themselves, by taking tlie universal, or general appella- 
 *' tion. for the thing it slgnifielh : For if one bhould desire the 
 ** painter to make liim the picture of a man, which is as much as 
 " to say, of a man in general ; he ;nea;uth no more, but that the 
 *' painter should chuse what man he plea?erh to draw, which must 
 " needs be some of tliem that are, or have been, or may be ; none 
 " of which are univer^al. But when he would have him to draw 
 " the picture of the king, or any particular person, he limiteth the 
 *• painter to that one person he chuseth. It is plain, therefore, 
 *• that there is nothing universal btit names ; which are therefore 
 '^ called indefinite, because we limit them not ourselves, but lc«u'& 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND* 167 
 
 my opinion, juftly) the docElrines of the antients con- 
 cerning univerfals, in fupport of which fo much in- 
 genuity had been employed by the Realifts, as the 
 great fource of my-ftery and error in the abftradt 
 faiences, was at pains to overthrow it completely, by 
 fome very ingenious and original fpeculations of his 
 own. Mr. Hume's* view of the fubje<fV, as he him- 
 felf acknowledges, does not differ materially from 
 that o^ Berkeley ; whom, by the way, he feems to 
 have regarded as the author of an opinion, of which 
 he was only an expoiitor and defender ; and which, 
 fince the days of Rofcelinus and Abelard, has been 
 familiarly known in all the univerfities of Europe.f 
 
 « them to be applied 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 pro- 
 *' per name, or by some such other way." 
 
 HoBBES's Tripos, chap. v. § 6. 
 
 * " A very material question has been started concerning ab- 
 " stract or general ideas : Whether they be general or particular 
 " in the mind's conception of them ? A great philosopher has dis- 
 <' puted the received opinion in this particular ; and has asserted;, 
 " that all general ideas are nothing but particular ones annexed to 
 ** a certain term, which gives them a more extensive signification, 
 " and makes them recal, upon occasion, other individuals, 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 endeavor to con- 
 ** firm it by some arguments, which, I hope, will put it beyond alJ 
 *' doubt and controversy.*' 
 
 Treatise of Human Nature, bock i. part i. § 7. 
 
 t Leibnitz, too, has declared himself a partisan of this sect, in a. 
 dissertation " De Stilo Philosophico Marii Nizolii." Thi;- Nizo- 
 lius published a book at Parma, in the year 1553, entitled, •' De 
 «* Veris principiis et vera hatione Philosophandi ;" in which he 
 opposed several of the doctrines of Aristotle, particularly his opin- 
 ion concerning universuls. An edition of this work, with a Pre- 
 face and Notes, was published by Leibnitz at Fraiickfort, in the 
 year 1670. The Preface and Notes are to be found in the fourth 
 volume ol his vvorkb, by Dutens. (^Geneva, 17G8.) 1 have inser- 
 ted a short extract from the former, in Note (I) at the end of the 
 volume. 
 
168 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 Notwithftanding, however, the great merit of thefe 
 writers, in defending and illuftrating the fyftem of 
 the Nominalifts, none of them feem to me to have 
 been fully aware oi the important confequences to 
 which it leads- "l he Abbe de Gondillac was, I be- 
 lieve, the firft (if we except, perhaps, Leibnitz) who 
 perceived that, if this fyftem be true, a talent for 
 reaioning muft confift, in a great meafure, in a fkil- 
 ful ufe of language as an inftrument of thought. 
 The moft valuable of his remarks on this fubjecl are 
 contained in a treatife De i* Art de Fevfer^ which 
 forms the fourth volume of his " Cours d'Etude." 
 
 Dr. Campbell, too. in his Philofophy of Rhetoric, 
 has founded, on the principles of Berkeley and Hume, 
 a very curious and interefting fpeculation, of which 
 I fhall have occafion afterwards to take notice. 
 
 The explanation which the do&ines of thefe wri- 
 ters afford, of the procefs of the mind in general rea- 
 foning, is fo fimple, and at the fame time, in n.y ap- 
 preheniion, fo fatisfadory, that, I own, it is with 
 fome degree of iurprife I have read the atten:pts 
 which have lately been made to revive the fyftem of 
 the Realifts. One of the ableft of thefe attempts is 
 by Dr. Price ; who in his very valuable Treatile on 
 Morals, has not only employed his ingenuity in fup- 
 port of fome of the old tenets of the Platonic fchool, 
 but has even gone fo far as to follow Plato's example, 
 in coniiecling this fpeculation abcmt univerfals, with 
 the fublinie queftions of natural theology. The ob- 
 fervations which he has offered in lupport of thefe 
 opinions, I have repeatedly perufed with all the at- 
 tention in my power ; but without being able to en- 
 ter into his views, or even to con prehend fully his 
 n^.eajiing. Indeed, I muft acknowledge, that it ap- 
 pears to me to afford no flight prefun ption againft; 
 the prii.c'ipies on which he proceeds, when I obferve, 
 that an author, remarkable, on moft occafions, for 
 preciiion of ideas, and for perfpicuity of ftyle, never 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 169 
 
 fails to lofe himfelf in obfcurity and myftery, when 
 he enters on thefe difquilitions. 
 
 Dr. Price's reafonings in proof of the exiftence of 
 univerfals, are the more curious, as he acquiefces in 
 fome of Dr. Reid's conclufions with refpedt to the 
 ideal theory of perception. That there are in the 
 mind, images or refemblances of things external, he 
 grants to be impoflible ; but ftiil he feems to luppofe, 
 that, in every exertion of thought, there isfomething 
 immediately prefent to the mind, which is the ob- 
 jetl of its attention. " When abftracl truth is con- 
 " templated, is not" (fays he) '*■ the very objecl itfelf 
 " prefent to the mind ? When millions of intellects 
 *' contemplate the equality of every angle of a femi- 
 " circle to a right angle, have they not all the fame 
 " objed in view ? Is this objed nothing ? Or is it 
 " only an image, or kind of (hadow ? Thefe inqui- 
 " ries," he adds, " carry our thoughts high."* 
 
 The difEculty which has appeared fo puzzling to 
 this ingenious writer, is, in truth, more apparent 
 than real. In the cafe of Perception, Imagination, 
 
 * The whole passage is as follows : " The word idea is some- 
 " times used to signify the immediate object of the mind in think- 
 " ing, considered as something in the mind, which represents the 
 *' real object, but is different from it. This sense of an idea is de- 
 " rived from the notion, that when we think of any external exist- 
 " ence, there is something immediately present to the mind, which 
 '* it contemplates distinct from the object itself, that being at a 
 " distance. But what is this ? It is bad language to call it an ira- 
 " age in the mind of the object. Shall we gay then, that there is 
 " indeed no such thing ? But would not this be the same as to say 
 " that, when the mind is employed 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 
 ** this object nothing ? Or is it only an image or kind of shadow ? 
 ^<— These inquiries carrv our thoughts high." 
 
 X ' 
 
17Q ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 and Memory, it has been already fully fhewn, lllaf 
 we have no reafon to believe the exiftence of any 
 thing in the mind diftini^ from the mind itfelf ; 
 and that, even upon the fuppofition that the fac^ 
 were other wife, our intellectual operations would be 
 juft as inexplicable as they are at prefent. Why then 
 fliould we fuppofe, that,, in our general fpeculations, 
 there muft exiil: in the mind fome objed: of its 
 thoughts, when it appears that there is no evidence 
 of the exiftence of any fuch object, even when the 
 mind is employed about individuals ? 
 
 Still, however, it may be urged,, that, although, in 
 fuch cafes, there fhould be no objed of thought in 
 the mind, there muft exift fomething or other to 
 which its attention is direded. To this difficulty I 
 have no anfwer to make, but by repeating the fa6l 
 which I have already endeavored to eftablifh ; that 
 there are only two ways in which we can poffibly 
 fpeculate about claffes of objects ; the one, by means 
 of a word or generic term ; the other, by means of 
 one particular individual of the clafs which we con- 
 lider as the reprefentative of the reft ; and that thefe 
 two methods of carrying on our general fpecula- 
 tions, are at bottom fo much the fame, as to author- 
 ife us to lay down as a principle, that, without the 
 ufe of figns, all our thoughts muft have related to 
 individuals. When we reafon therefore, concerning 
 claffes or genera, the objects of our attention are mere- 
 ly iigns ; or if, in any inftance,the generic word fhould 
 recal fome individual, this circumftance is to be re- 
 garded only as the confequence of an accidental af- 
 fociation, which has rather a tezadency to difturb, 
 than to affift us in our reafoning. 
 
 Whether it might not have been pofiible for the 
 Deity tO' have fo formed us, that we might have Jbeen 
 capable of reafoning concerning claffes of objects, 
 without the ufe of figns, I ftiall not take upon me to 
 determine. But this we may venture to affirm with 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. ' 171 
 
 confidence, that man is not fuch a being. And in. 
 deed, even if he were, it would not therefore necef- 
 farily follow, that there exifts any thing in a genus, 
 diftincl from the individuals of which it is compofed ; 
 for we know that the power which we have of 
 thinking of particular objects without the medium 
 pf figns, does not in the leaft depend on their exift- 
 ence or non-exiftence, at the moment we think of 
 them. 
 
 It would be vaii^, however, for us, in inquiries of 
 this nature, to indulge ourfelves in fpeculating about 
 poflibilities. It is of more confequence to remark 
 the advantages which we derive from our actual con- 
 ftitution ; and which, in the prefent inftance, appear 
 to me to be important and admirable : inafmuch as 
 it fits mankind for an eafy interchange of their in- 
 telledlual acquifitions ; by impofing on them the ne* 
 ceffity of employing, in their folitary fpeculations, 
 the fame inftrument of thought, which forms the 
 eftablifhed medium of their communieatioriS with 
 each other. 
 
 In the very flight fl^etch which I have given of the 
 controverfy between the Nominalifts and the Real- 
 ifts about the exiftence of univerfals, I have taken no 
 notice of an intermediate feci called Conceptualifts ; 
 whofe diftinguifliing tenet is faid to have been, that 
 the mind has a power of forming general concep- 
 tions.* From the indiftindnefs and inaccuracy of 
 
 * '* Nominales, deserta paulo Abelardi hypothesi, universalia in 
 *« notionibas atque eonceptibus mentis ex rebus singiilaribus ab- 
 *' stractione formatis consistere statuebant, unde conceptuales dicti 
 »' sunt." — — Brucker, vol. iii. p. 908. (Lips. 1706.) 
 
 ** Nominalium tres erant familiae. Aliqui ut Rocelinus, univcr- 
 " salia meras esse voces docuerunt. A.iii iterum in solo intellectu 
 " possuerunt, atque nieros animi conceptus esse autumarunt, quos 
 ^* conceptuales aliqui vocant, et a nominalibus distinguunt, qt»an- 
 '' quaoi alii etiam confundant. Alii fuerunt, qui universalia qu«- 
 *' iiverunt, non tarn in vocibus, quam in sermonibus integris, quod 
 
172 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 their language on the fubjecl, it is not a very eafy 
 matter to afcertain precileiy what was their opinion 
 on the point in queflion ; but, on the whole, I am 
 inclined to think, that it amounted to the two fol- 
 lowing propolitions : firft, that we have no reafon to 
 believe the exiftence of any eflences, or univerfal 
 ideas, correfponding to general terms ; and fecondly, 
 that the mind has the power of reafoning concerning 
 genera^ or dalles of individuals, without the mediation 
 of language. Indeed 1 cannot think of any other hy- 
 potheiis which it is poflible to form on the fubjecl, 
 diftincl from thofe of the two celebrated feels already 
 mentioned. In denying the exiftence of univerfals, 
 we know that the Conceptualifts agreed with the 
 Nominalifts. In what, then, can we fuppofe that 
 they differed from them, but about the necellity of 
 language as an inftrument of thought, in carrying 
 on our general fpeculations ? 
 
 With this fed of Conceptualifts, Dr. Reid is dif- 
 pofed to rank Mr. Locke ; and I agree with him fo 
 far as to think, that, if Locke had any decided opin- 
 ion on the point in difpute, it did not differ materi- 
 ally from what I have endeavored to exprefs in the 
 two general proportions which I have juft now fta- 
 ted. The apparent inconfiftencies which occur in 
 that part of his Eflay in which the queftion is difcuf- 
 fed, have led fubfequent authors to reprefent his fen- 
 timents in different lights ; but as thefe inconffften- 
 cies plainly fliew, that he was neither fatisfied with 
 the fyftem of the Realifts nor with that of the Nom- 
 inalists ; they appear to me to demonftrate that he 
 leaned to the intermediate hypothefis already men- 
 
 ** Joh. Sarisberiens's 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 i as I find myself unable to comprehend their doc- 
 trine. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 173 
 
 tioned, notwithftanding the inaccurate and paradox, 
 ical manner in which he has expreffed it.* 
 
 May 1 take the liberty of adding, that Dr. Reid*s 
 own opinion feems to me alfo to coincide nearly with 
 that of the Conceptualifts ; or, at leatt, to coincide 
 with the two propoiitions which I have already fup. 
 pofed to contain a fummary of their dodrine ? The 
 abfurdity of the ancient opinion concerning univer- 
 fals, as maintained both by Plato and Arillotle, he 
 has expofed by the cleareft and moft deciilve argu- 
 ments ; not to mention, that by his own very ori- 
 ginal and important fpeculati^nsxoncerning the ide- 
 al theory, he has completely deftroyed that natural 
 prejudice from which the whole fyftem of univerfal 
 ideas gradually took rife. If, even in the cafe of in- 
 dividuals, we have no reafon to believe the exillence 
 of any object of thought in the mind, diftind from 
 the mind itfelf, we are at once relieved from all the 
 diiEculties in which philofophers have involved 
 themfelves, by attempting to explain, in confiftency 
 with that ancient hypothelis, the procefs of the mind 
 in its general fpeculations. 
 
 On the other hand, it is no lefs clear, from Dr. 
 Reid's criticifms on Berkeley and Hume, that his 
 opinion does not coincide with that ot rht Nomin- 
 alifts ; and that the power which the mind .poflefTes 
 of reafoning concerning clafles of objects, appears to 
 him to imply fome faculty, of which no notice is ta- 
 ken in the fyftems of thefe philofophers. 
 
 The long experience 1 have had of the candor of 
 this excellent author, encourages me to add, that, in 
 Itating his opinion of the fubje6t of univerfals, he 
 has not expreffed himfelf in a manner fo completely 
 fatisfactory to my mind, as on moft other occafions. 
 That language is not an effential inftrument of 
 thought i.. our general reafonings, he has no where 
 pofitively afferted. At the fame time, as he has not 
 * See Note [K.] 
 
%74f ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 affirmed the contrary, and as he has declared him- 
 felt diflktisfied with the doctrines of Berkeley and 
 Hume, his readers are naturally led to conclude, 
 that this is his real opinion on the lubjed. His fi- 
 ience on this point is the more to be regretted, as it 
 is the only point about which there can be any reafon- 
 able controverfy among thole who allow his refuta- 
 tion of the ideal hppothefis to be fatisfadory. In 
 confequence of that refutation, the whole difpute 
 between the Realifts and the Conceptualifls falls at 
 once to the ground ; but the difpute between the 
 Conceptuallfts and the Nominalifts (which involves 
 the great queftion concerning the ufe of figns in gen- 
 eral fpeculation) remains on the fa-me footing as be- 
 fore. 
 
 In order to juftify his own expreflions concerning 
 univerfals ; and in oppofition to the language of 
 Berkeley and Hume, Dr. Reid is at pains to illuf- 
 tratea diftinc^ion between conception and imagina- 
 tion, which he thinks, has not been fufficiently atten- 
 ded to by philofophers. " An univerfal," fays he, 
 *• is not an object of any external fenfe, and there- 
 " fore cannot be imagined *, but it may be diftinclly 
 " conceived. When Mr. Pope fays, " The proper 
 " ftudy of mankind is man ;" I conceive his mean- 
 '-^ ing diftinclly ; although I neither imagine a black 
 " or a white, a crooked or a ftraight man. I can con- 
 •"^ ceive a thing thatis impoffible ; but I cannot diftin<^- 
 " ly imagine a thing that is impoffible. I can con- 
 " ceive a propofition or a demonftration, but I can- 
 " not imagine either. I can conceive underftand- 
 " ing and will, virtue and vice, and other attributes 
 " of the miiid ; but I cannot imagine them. In 
 " like manner, I can diftindlly conceive univerfals j 
 " but I cannot imagine them."* 
 
 It appears from this paffage, that, by conceiving 
 univerfals, Dr. Reid means nothing more, than un^ 
 * P. 482. 
 
OF THE HtTMAN MIND. 17^ 
 
 derftanding the meaning of propofitions involving 
 general terms. But the obfervations he has made 
 (admitting them in their full extent) do not in the 
 leaft afFect the queftion about the neceflity of iigns, 
 to enable us to fpeculate about fuch propofitions. 
 The vague ufe which metaphyfical writers have made 
 of the word conception^ {pi which I had occafion to 
 take notice in a former chapter,) has contributed m 
 part to embarrafs this fubjed:. That we cannot con- 
 ceive univerfals in a way at all analogous to that in 
 which we conceive an abfent obje<5l of fenfe, is grant- 
 ed on both fides. Why then fhould we employ 
 the fame word conception^ to exprefs two operations 
 of the mind which are effentially different ? When 
 we fpeak of conceiving or underflanding a general 
 propofition, we mean nothing more than that we 
 have a conviction,(founded on our previous ufe of the 
 words in which it is expreffed,) that we have it in 
 our power, at pleafure, to fubflitute, inflead of the 
 general terms, fome one of the individuals compre- 
 hended under them. When we hear a propofition 
 announced, of which the terms are not familiar to 
 us ; we naturally defire to have it exemplified, or 
 illuflrated, by means of fome particular inflance ; 
 and when we are once fatisfied by fuch an applica- 
 tion, that we have the interpretation of the propo- 
 fition at all times in our power, we make no fcruple 
 to fay, that we conceive or underfland its meaning ; 
 although we fhould not extend our views beyond 
 the words in which it is announced, or even although 
 no particular exemplification of it fhould occur to 
 us at the moment. It is in this fenfe only, that the 
 terms of any general propofition can poflibly be un- 
 derflood : and therefore Dr. Reid's argument does 
 not, in the leaft, invalidate the dodlrine of the Nom- 
 inal! fls, that, without the ufe of language, (under 
 which term I comprehend every fpecies of figns,) we 
 flioukl never have been able to extend our fpecula- 
 tions beyond individuals. 
 
j 76 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 That, in many cafes, we may fafely employ in our 
 reafonings, general terms, the meaning of which we 
 are not even able to interpret in this way, and con- 
 fequently, which are to us wholly infignificant, I had 
 occafion already to demonftrate, in a former part of 
 this feclion. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Continuation of the fame SubjeB.-^Inferences with refpeEl 
 to the life of Language as an Injirument of Thought^ 
 and the Errors in Reafonmg to which it occafionally 
 gives rife* 
 
 IN the laft Section, I mentioned Dr. Campbell, as 
 an ingenious defender of the fyftem of the Nomin- 
 alifts ; and I alluded to a particular application which 
 he has made of their doctrine. The reafonings which 
 I had tlien in view, are to be found in the feventh 
 chapter of the fecond book of Km Philofophy of 
 Rhetoric ; in which chapter he propofes to explain 
 how it happens, " that nonlenfe lb often efcapes be- 
 " ing deteded, both by the WTiter and the reader." 
 The title is fomewhat ludicrous in a grave philofoph- 
 ical work ; but the difquifition to which it is pre- 
 fixed, contains many acute and profound remarks 
 on the nature and power of figns, both as a medi- 
 um of communication, and as an inilrument of 
 thought. 
 
 Dr. Campbell's fpeculations with refpecl to lan- 
 guage as an inftrument of thought, feem to have 
 been fuggefted by the following paflage in Mr. 
 Hume's Treatile of Human Nature. " I believe, ev- 
 " ery one who examines the fituation of his mind 
 " in reafoning, will agree with me, that we do not 
 " annex diftind and complete ideas to every 
 " term we make ule of ; and that in talking of Gov- 
 
OF trtE HUMAN MIND* 177 
 
 '^^ eminent. Church, Negociation, Conqueft, we fel- 
 '^' dom fpread out in our minds all the finriple ideas 
 " of which thefe complex ones are compofed. It is, 
 " however, obfervable, that, notwithftanding this 
 " imperfe6lion, we may avoid talking nonfenfe on 
 " thefe fubje^ls ; and may perceive any repug- 
 " nance among the ideas, as well as if we had a full 
 " comprehenlion of them. Thus if, inftead of fay- 
 " ing, that, in war, the trt^isker have always re- 
 '^^ courfe to negociation, we fhould fay, that they 
 " have always recourfe to conqueft ; the cuftonj 
 *' which we have acquired, of attributing certain 
 ** relations to ideas, ftill follows the words, and 
 *' makes us immediately perceive the abfurdity o£ 
 *^ that propofition." 
 
 In the remarks which Dr. Campbell has made on 
 this palTage, he has endeavored to explain in what 
 inanner our habits of thinking and fpeaking, grad- 
 ually eftablifh in the mind, fuch relations among the 
 words we employ, as enable us to carry on proceffes 
 of reafoning by means of them, without attending 
 in every inflance to their particular fignification. 
 "With moft of his remarks on this fubjecl I perfectly 
 agree ; but the illuftrations he gives of them, are of 
 too great extent to be introduced here ; and I would 
 not wdfh to run the risk of impairing their perfpicu- 
 ity, by attempting to abridge them. I muft there- 
 fore refer fuch of my readers as wifh to profecute 
 the fpeculation, to his very ingenious and philofoph- 
 ical treatife. 
 
 " In confequence of thefe circumftances," (fays 
 Dr. Campbell,) " It happens that, in matters which 
 *' are perfectly familiar to us, we are able to reafon 
 '* by means of v/ords, without examining, in every 
 " inflance, their fir^nification. Almoft all the polTi- 
 " ble applications of the terms (in other words, all 
 " the acquired relations of the iigns) have become 
 " cuftomarv to us. The confequence is, that an un- 
 ' Y 
 
178 ' ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " ufual application of any term is inftantly detected ; 
 " this detection breeds doubt, and this doubt occa- 
 *' lions an immediate recourfe to ideas. The re- 
 *' courfe of the mind, when in any degree puzzled 
 " with the Cgns, to the knowledge it has of the 
 " things fignified, is natural, and on fuch fubjecls 
 " perfectly eafy. And of this recourfe the difcove- 
 '' ry of the meaning, or of the unmeaningnefs of 
 *' what is faid, is the immediate efFed. But in mat- 
 *' ters that are by no means familiar, or are treated 
 *^' in an uncommon manner, and in fuch as are of an 
 *' abftruse and intricate nature, the cafe is widely 
 " different." The inftances in which we are chief- 
 ly liable to be impofed on by words without mean- 
 ing are, (according to Dr. Campbell,) the three fol- 
 lowing : 
 
 Firft, Where there is an exuberance of metaphor. 
 
 Secondly, "When the terms moft frequently occur- 
 ring, denote things which are of a complicated na- 
 ture, and to which the mind is not fufficiently fa- 
 miliarifed. Such are the words, Government, 
 Church, State, Conftitution, Polity, Power, Com- 
 merce, Legiflature, Jurifdidion, Proportion, Syme- 
 try. Elegance. 
 
 Thirdly, When the terms employed are very ab- 
 ftrad:, and confequently of very exteniive fignifica- 
 tion.* For an illuflration of thefe remarks, I muft 
 
 * ^ The more general any word is in its signification, it is the 
 " more liable to be abused by an improper or unmeaning applica- 
 " lion. A very general term is applicable alike to a multitude of 
 " different individuals, a particular term is applicable but to a few. 
 ** When the rightful applications of a word are extremely nume- 
 " rous, they cannot all be so strongly fixed by habit, but that, for 
 " greater security, v/e must perpetually recur in our minds from 
 ** the sign to the notion we have of the tiling signified ; and for 
 ** the reason aforementioned, it is in such instances difficult precise- 
 " ly to ascertain this notion. Thus the latitude of a word, though 
 *' different from its ambiguity, hath often a similar effect." — Phi- 
 losophy of Khetorac, vol. ii. p. 122. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 179 
 
 refer the reader to the ingenious work which I juft 
 now quoted. 
 
 To the obvervations of thefe eminent writers, I 
 fliall take the liberty of adding, that we are doubly li- 
 able to the miftakes they mention, when ^^e make 
 ufe of a language which is not perfectly familiar to 
 us. Nothing, indeed, I apprehend, can fhew more 
 dearly the ufe we make of words in reafoning than 
 this, that an obfervation which, when expreffed in 
 our own language, feems trite or frivolous, often ac- 
 quires the appearance of depth and Originality, by 
 being tranflated into another. For my own part, at 
 leaft, I am confcious of having been frequently led, 
 in this way, to form an exaggerated idea of the 
 merits of ancient and df foreign authors ; and it has 
 happened to me more than once, that a fentence, 
 which feemed at firft to contain fomething highly 
 ingenious,and profound, when tranflated into words 
 familiar to me, appeared obvioufly to be a trite or a 
 nugatory propofition. 
 
 The effecfl produced by an artificial and inverted 
 flyle in our own language, is fimilar to what we ex- 
 perience when we read a compofition in a foreign 
 one. The eye is too much dazzled to fee diftincliy. 
 " Aliud ftyli genus," (fays Bacon,) " totum in eo eil, 
 *' ut verba fnit aculeata, fententiae concifce, oratio 
 " denique potius verfa quam liila, quo fit, ut omnia, 
 " per hujufmodi artificium, magis ingeniofa vide- 
 " antur quam re vera fmt. Tale invenitur in Sene- 
 " ca effufius, in Tacito et Piinio fecundo moderati, 
 " us." 
 
 The deranged collocation of the \^ords in I.atin 
 compofition, aids powerfully the inipolition we have 
 now been confidering, and renders that language an 
 inconvenient medium of philofophi^al communica- 
 tion ; as well as an inconvenient inilrument of accu- 
 rate thought. Indeed, in all languages in which this 
 latitude in the arrangement of the words is admit- 
 
180 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ted, the affociations among words muft be loofer, 
 than where one invariable order is followed ; and 
 of confequence, on the principles of Hume and 
 Campbell, the miftakes which are committed in rea- 
 fonings expreffed in fuch languages, will not be fo 
 readily detedled. 
 
 The errors in reafoning, to which we are expofed 
 in confequence of the ufe of words as an inftrument 
 of thought, will appear the lefs furprifing, when we 
 conlider that all the languages which have hitherto 
 exitled in the world, have derived their origin from 
 popular ufe ; and that their application to philofophr 
 ical purpofes, was altogether out of the view of thofe 
 men who firft employed them. Whether it might 
 not be pofiible to invent a language, which would 
 at once facilitate philofophical communication, and 
 form a more convenient inftrument of reafoning and 
 of invention, than thofe we poffefs at prefent, is a 
 que lion of very difficult difcuffion ; and upon which 
 I fhall not prefume to offer an opinion. The fail- 
 lire of Wilkin's very ingenious attempt towards a re- 
 al charader, and a philofophical language, is not per- 
 haps deciiive againft fuch a projecl ; for, not to men- 
 tion fome radical defers in his plan, the views of 
 that very enunent philofopher do not feem to have 
 extended much farther than to promote and extend 
 the literary intercourfe among different nations. 
 Leibnitz, fo far as I know, is the only author who 
 has hitherto conceived the pofTibility of aiding the 
 powers of invention and of reafoning, by the ufe of 
 a more convenient inflrument of thought ; but he 
 has no where explained his ideas on this very inter 
 efting fubjed. It is only from a converfation of 
 his with Mr. Boyle and Mr. Oldenburgh, when he 
 was in England in 167S, and from fome imperfecl 
 hints in different parts of his works,* that we find 
 
 >SeeNote[L.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 181 
 
 it had engaged his attention. In the courfe of this 
 converfation he obferved, that Wilkins had mifta- 
 ken the true end of a real charader which was not 
 merely to enable different nations to correfpond ea- 
 fily together, but to ajffift the reafon, the invention, 
 and the memory. In his writings, too, he fome- 
 where fpeaks of an alphabet of human thoughts, 
 which he had been employed in forming, and which, 
 probably, (as Fontenelle has remarked) had fome re- 
 lation to his univerfal language.* 
 
 The new nomenclature which has been introduced 
 into chymiftry, feems to me to furnifh a ftriking il- 
 luftration of the effecl of appropriated and well-de- 
 fined expreilions, in aiding the intellectual powers ; 
 and the period is probably not far diftant, when iim« 
 ilar innovations will be attempted in fome of the oth- 
 er fciences. 
 
 * " M. Leibnitz avoit conga le pfojet d'une langue philo- 
 ** sophique et universelle. Wilkins Eveque de Chester, et 
 '* Dalgarnoy avoient travaille ; mais des le tems qu'il etoit 
 " en Angleterre, il avoit dit a Messieurs Boyle et d* Old- 
 " enboiirg qa'il ne croj'oit pas que ces grands honnnies 
 *' eussent encore frappe au bur. lis pouvoient bien faire 
 " que des nations qui na s'enlendoient pas eussent aisement 
 ** commerce, maia ils n 'avoient pas attrappe les veri tables 
 " caracteres reels, qui eloient Tinstrament le plus fin dont 
 ** Pesprit bumain se put servir, et qui devoient extremc- 
 " ment faciliter et le raisonnement, et la memoire, et l*in- 
 " veniion des chose?. Ils devoient ressembler, autant qu'il 
 ** etoit possible, aux caracteres d'algebre, qui en effct sont 
 *' tres simples, et ties expressifs, qui n'ont jamais ni super- 
 " fluite ni equivoque, et dont toutes les varietes sont rai- 
 '' sonnees. II a parle en quelque endroit, d'un alpliabet 
 '^^ des pensees humaines, qu'il meditnit. Selon toutes les 
 • appareDces,cet alphabet avoit rapport a ss langue univer- 
 n-'lle." Ehge de jM. Lei hsnz, par M. de Fontekelle. 
 
182 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Of the Purpofes to which the Powers of AhflraBion and 
 Generaufatwi are fuhfervitnt, 
 
 IT has been already ftiewn, that, without the ufe 
 of figns, all our knowledge muft neceflkrily have been 
 limited to individuals, and that we {ht)uld have been 
 perteclly incapable both of claffification and general 
 reafoning. Some authors have maintained, that 
 without the power of generalifation, (which I have 
 endeavored to fhow, means nothing more than the 
 capacity of employing general terms,) it would have 
 been impoflible for us to have carried on any fpecies 
 of reafoning whatever. But 1 cannot help thinking 
 that this opinion is erroneous ; or, at leaft, that it is 
 very imperfeclly Hated, The truth is, it appears to 
 me to be juft in one fenfe of the word reafoning^ but 
 falfe in another ; and I even fufped it is falle in that 
 fenfe of the word in which it is moft commonly em- 
 ployed. Before, therefore, it is laid down as a gen- 
 eral propofition, the meaning we are to annex to 
 this very vague and ambiguous term, fliould be 
 afcertained with precilion. 
 
 It has been remarked by feveral writers that 
 the cxpeclition which we feel of the continuance 
 of the laws of nature, is not founded upon rea- 
 foning ; and different theories have of late beei 
 propofed to account for its origin. Mr. Hum< 
 refblves it into the affociation of ideas. Dr. Reid^ 
 on the other hand, maintains, that it is an origi 
 principle of our conftitution, which does not admit 
 of any explanation ; and which, therefore, is to b< 
 ranked among thofe general and ultimate fadls, be^ 
 yond which, philofophy is unable to proceed.* With- 
 
 * In inqnirjes of this nature, so far removed from the 
 common courte of literary pursuits, it always gives me 
 
OP THE HUMAN MIND. 183 
 
 out this principle of expeftation, it would be impof- 
 fiblc for us to accommodate our conduct to the ef- 
 tablifhed courfe of nature ; and, accordingly, we find 
 that it is a principle coeval with our very exiftence ; 
 and, in fome meafure, common to man with the 
 lower animals. 
 
 It is an obvious confequence of this doftrine, that, 
 although philofophers be accuftomed to ftate what 
 are commonly called the laws of nature, in the form 
 of general propofitions, it is by no means neceffary 
 for the pradical purpofes of life, that we fhould ex- 
 prefs them in this manner ; or even that we Ihould 
 exprefs them in words at all. The philofopher, for 
 
 pleasure to remark a coincidence of opinion among different 
 philosophers ; particularly among men of original genius, 
 and who have been educated in different philosophical sys- 
 tems. The following passage, in which M. de Condorcet 
 gives an account of some ot the metaphysical opinions of 
 the late Mr. Turgot, approaches very nearly to Dr. Reid's 
 doctrines. 
 
 ** La memoire de nos sensations, et la faculte que nous 
 •' avons de reflechir sur ces sensations passees et de les 
 *' combiner, sont le seul principe de nos ccnnoissances. La 
 " supposition qu'il existe des loix constantcs auxquelles 
 " tons ies phenomenes observes sont assujettis de maniere 
 " a reparoitre dans tous les temps, dans toutes les circon- 
 '• stances, lels qu'ils sent determines par ces loix, est le 
 *' seul fondement de la certitude de ces connoissances. 
 
 " Nous avons la conscience d'avoir observe cette con- 
 ** stance, et un sentiment involontaire nous force de croire 
 '* qu'elle continue a de subsister. La probabilite qui en 
 " resulte, quelque grande qu'elle soit, n'est pas une certi- 
 " tude. Aucune relation necessaire ne lie pour nous le 
 " passe a Tavenir, ni la Constance de ce que j'ai vu a celle 
 '* de ce que j'aurois continue d'observer si j'etoisresie dans 
 " des circonstances semblables ; mais I'imfTession qui me 
 ** porte a regarder comme existant, comme red ce qui m'a 
 *' presenie ce caractere de Constance est irresistible." — Fif 
 de Turcot, partie ii. p. 56. 
 
 " Quand un Francois et un Anglois present de meme, 
 ** (says Voltairc,j il faut bien qu'iis aient raison." 
 
184 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPiriT 
 
 example, may ftate it as a law of nature, that " fir^ 
 fcorches ;" or that " heavy bodies, when unlupport* 
 ed, fall downwards :" but, long before the ufe of 
 artificial figns, and even before the dawn of reafon^ 
 a child learns to ad: upon both of thefe fuppolitions. 
 In doing fo, it is influenced merely by the inftinctive 
 principle which has now been mentioned, directed 
 in its operation (as is the cafe with many other in- 
 ftinds) by the experience of the individual. If man, 
 therefore, had been deilined for no other purpofes, 
 than to acquire fuch an acquaintance with the courfe 
 of nature, as is necellary for the prefervation of his 
 animal exiflence ; he might have fulfilled all the 
 ends of his being without the ufe of language. 
 
 As we are enabled, by our inftinclive anticipation 
 of phyfical events, to accommodate our conduct to 
 what we forefee is to happen, fo we are enabled, in 
 many cafes, to increafe our power, by employing 
 phyfical caufes as inftruments for the accomplilliment 
 of our purpofes ; nay, we can employ a feries of fuch 
 caufes, lo as to accomplifh very remote effects. We 
 can employ the agency of air, to increafe the heat of 
 a furnace ; the furnace, to render iron malleable ; 
 and the iron to all the various purpofes of the me- 
 chanical arts. Now, it appears to me, that all ':his 
 may be conceived and done without the aid of ian* 
 guage : and yet, afl'urediy, to difcover a ferit:^. of 
 means fubfervient to a panicular end ; or, in other 
 words, an effort of m-echanicai invention ; implies, 
 according to the common doctrines of philofophers, 
 the excrcife of our reafoning powers. In this fenfe, 
 therefore, of the word realoning, I am inclined to 
 think, that it is not effentially connected with the 
 faculty of generalifation, or with the ufe of figns. 
 
 It is fome confiruiation of this conciufion, that 
 favages, whofe mjnds are almoft wholly occupied 
 \vith particulars, and who have neither inclination 
 nor capacity fcr general fpcculations, are yet occa- 
 
OP THE HUMAN MIND. 18,^ 
 
 iionally obferved to employ a long train of means for 
 accomplifliing a particular purpofe. Even fomething 
 of this kind, but in a very inferior degree, may, I 
 think, be remarked in the other animalb ; and that 
 they do not carry it farther, is probably not the ef- 
 fedb of their want of generalifation, but of the imper- 
 fection of fome of thofe faculties which are common 
 to them with our fpecies ; particul irly of their pow- 
 ers of attention and recollection. I he inftances which 
 are commonly produced, to prove that they are not 
 deftitute of the power of reafoning, are all examples 
 of that fpecies of contrivance which has been men- 
 tioned ; and are perfectly diftind from thofe intel- 
 lectual proceffes to which the ufe of iigns is effential- 
 ly fubfervient.* 
 
 *One of the best attested instances which I have met 
 with, of sagacity in the lower aninaals, is iricrntioned b^' M, 
 Bailly, in his Lettre sur les Animaux^ addressed to M. Le 
 Roy. 
 
 *' Un dc mes amis, homme d'espritet digne deconfiance, 
 *' m'a raconie deux faits dont il a ee temoin. II a* oil ua 
 ** singe tres intelligent ; il s'amufoii a lui donner des noix 
 " dont Tanimal etoit ires friand ; mais il les ph'^oit assez 
 ** loin, pour que retenu par sa chaine, le singe ne pUf pas les 
 *' aiteiodre : apies bien des efforts inutilt^s qui ne servent 
 *'* qu'a preparer Tinvention, le singe, voyani passer un do- 
 ** mesiique portant une serviette sous le bras, fe saisii de 
 " cette serviette, et s'en servit pour atteindre a la noix et 
 '* Tamener jusqu' a lui. La maniere de casser la noix exi- 
 " gea une nouvclle invention ; il en vint a bout, en p]a9:int 
 ** la noix a terre, en y faifant tomber de haut une pierjeoa 
 *' un caillou pour la briser. Vous vovez. Monsieur, que 
 *' sans avoir connu, comme Gallilee, les l»>ixd«r la chute des 
 " corps, le singe avoit bien remarque la torce que ces corps 
 ** acquierent par la chutt;. Ce moycn cependi»nt se trouva 
 " en defaut. Un jour qu'il avoit plu, la terre etoit molle, 
 *' la noix enfon^-it, tt la pierre n'avoit plus d'aciion pour 
 " la briser. Que fii le singe ? II alia chercher un tuileau, 
 " pla^alanoix dr^ssus^eten laissant tombe- la pierre il brisa 
 ** la noix qui nN-nfonCoit plus."— Z)wc6>t/r5 et memoires par 
 
 z 
 
186 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Whether that particular fpecies of mechanical con-* 
 trivance which has now been mentioned, and which 
 confifts merely in employing a feries of phyfical cau- 
 fes to accomplifh an effeft which we cannot produce 
 immediately, Ihould or fhould not be dignified with 
 the name of reafoning, 1 ftiall not now inquire. It 
 is fufficient for my prefent purpofe to remark, that 
 it is ell'entially different from thofe intellectual pro- 
 ceffes to which the ufe of iigns is indifpenfibly ne- 
 ceffiry. At the fame time, I am ready to acknowl- 
 edge, that what I have now faid, is not ftrictly ap- 
 plicable to thofe more complicated mechanical inven- 
 tions, in which a variety of powers are made to con- 
 fpire at once to produce a particular effed. Such 
 contrivances, perhaps, may be found to involve pro- 
 ceffes of the mind which cannot be carried on with- 
 out figns. But thefe queftions will fall more pro- 
 perly under our confideration when we enter on the 
 fubject of reafoning* 
 
 In general, it may be remarked, that, in fo far as 
 our thoughts relate merely to individual objeds, or 
 to individual events, which we have adually per- 
 ceived, and of which we retain a diftinft remem- 
 brance/ we are not under the necelTity of employing 
 
 PAvteitr de VHistoire de VAstronotmc, A Paris, 1790, 
 tome ii. p. 126. 
 
 Admitting thf;se facts to be accurately stated, the}- siiH 
 leave an essential distinction between man and brutes j for 
 in none of the contrivances here mentioned, is there any 
 thing analogous to tnose ihtc llcctual processes which lead 
 ihe mind to general conclusions, and which (according to 
 the foregoing doctrine) imply the use of the general terms. 
 Those powers, therefore, which enable us to classify ob- 
 jects, and to employ signs as an instrument of thought, are, 
 as far as we can judge, peculiar to the human species. 
 
 * I have thought it proper to add this limitation of the 
 general proposition ; because individual objects^ and indi- 
 vidual events, which have not fallen under the examination 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. iS? 
 
 words. It frequently, however, happens, that when 
 the fubjeds of our confideration are particular, our 
 reafoning with refped: to them may involve very 
 general notions ; and, in fuch cafes, although we 
 may conceive, without the ufe of words, the things 
 about which we reafon, yet we muft neceffarily have 
 recourfe to language in carrying on our fpeculations 
 concerning them. If the fubjeds of our reafoning 
 be general, (under which defcription I include all 
 our reafonings, whether more or kfs comprehenfive, 
 which do not relate merely to individuals,) words 
 are the fole objeds about which our thoughts are 
 employed. According as thefe words are compre- 
 henfive or limited in their lignification, the conclu- 
 lions we form will be more or lefs general ; but this 
 accidental circumftance does not in the leaft afFcol 
 the nature of the intelledtual procefs ; fo that it may 
 be laid down as a propofitijon which holds without 
 any exception, that, in every cafe, in which we ex- 
 
 of our senses, cannot possibly be made the subjects of our 
 consideration, but by means of language. The manner irj 
 whiclj we think of such objects and events, is accurately 
 described in the foUowinj^ passage of Wollaston ; however 
 unphiiosophical the conclusion may be v/hich he iiedu.ces 
 from his reasoning, 
 
 *^ A njan is not known ever the more to posterity, because 
 *^ his naii>e is transmitted to them ; he doih not live, because 
 " his pame does. When it is said, Julius Caesar subdued 
 " Gaul, beat Pompey, changed liie Koman commonwealth 
 *' into a monarchy, Sec. it is the same thing as to say, the 
 *' conqueror of Pompey wa«» C«sar ; that is, Csesar, and the 
 " conqueror of Pompey, ar^ ihe siime thing ; and Caesar is 
 *' as much known by the one distinction as the other.— 
 *' The amount then is only this : ihat the conqueror of 
 *' Pompey conquered Pompey ; or somebody concjuered 
 ** Pompey ; or rather, since Pompey is as litde known ncvr 
 *' as Ciesar, somebody conquered somebody. Such a poor 
 '* business is this boasted immortality ; and such, as has 
 ' been here described, is the ihiug calh d glory among us T' 
 Reli^'wn of Nat> Df.l. p. ur. 
 
18S ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tend our fpeculations beyond individuals, language? 
 is not only an ufeful auxiliary, but is the fole inftru- 
 ment by which they are carried on. 
 
 Thefs remarks naturally lead me to take natice of 
 what forms the charaderiftical diftind:ion between 
 the fpeculations of the philofopher and of the f ulgar. 
 It is not, that the former is accuftomed to carry on 
 his proceffes of reafoning to a greater extent than 
 the latter ; but that the conclufions he is accuftom- 
 ed to form, are far more comprehenlive, in confe- 
 quence of the habitual employment of more compre- 
 henlive terms. Among the moft unenlightened of 
 mankind, we often meet with individuals who pof- 
 fefs the reafoning faculty in a very eminent degree ; 
 but as this faculty is employed merely about partic- 
 ulars, it never can condud them to general truths ; 
 and, of conlequence, whether their purfuits in life 
 lead them to fpeculation or to adion, it can only fit 
 them for d'^ftinguifhing themfelves in fome very lim- 
 ited and fubordinate fphere. The philofopher, 
 whofe mind has been familiarifed by education, and 
 by his own refiedlions, to the correct ufe of more 
 comprehenlive terms, is enabled, without perhaps a 
 greater degree of intellectual exertion than is necef- 
 fary for managing the details of ordinary bufinefs, to 
 arrive at general theorems ; which, when illuftrated 
 to the lower dalles of men, in their particular appli- 
 cations, feem to indicate a fertility of invention, lit- 
 tle fhort of fupernatural* 
 
 *"• General reasonings seem intricate, merely because 
 " ih-y are general; nor is it easy for the bulk of mankind 
 ** to (iistingulsh,in a great number of pariiculars, that com- 
 ** mon circumstance in which they all agree, or to extract 
 *' it, pure and unmixt, from the other superfluous circum- 
 *' stances. Every judgment or conclusion with them is 
 *' pa'ticular. They cannot enlarge their view to those uni- 
 " versal propositions, ^vhich comprehend under them an in- 
 *' finite number of individuals, and include a v/hole science 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 189 
 
 The analogy of the algebraical art may be of uib 
 in iUuftrating thefe obfervations. The difference, in 
 fa6l, between the inveiligations we carry on by its 
 aflillance, and othtr procefles of reafoning, is more 
 inconfiderable than is commonly imagined ; and, if 
 I am not miftaken, amounts only to this, that the 
 former are expreffed in an appropriated language, 
 with which we are not accuftomed to alTociate par- 
 ticular notions. Hence they exhibit the efficacy of 
 figns as an inftrument of thought in a more diflinct 
 and palpable manner, than the Ipeculations we car- 
 ry on by words, which are continually awakening 
 the power of Conception. 
 
 When the celebrated Vieta fhewed algebraifts, 
 that, by fubftituting in their invefligations letters of 
 the alphabet, inftead of known quantities, they might 
 render the folution of every problem lubfervient to 
 the difcovery of a general truth, he did not increafe 
 the difHculty of algebraical reafonings ; he only en- 
 larged the lignification of the terms in which they 
 were expreffed. And if, in teaching that fcience, it 
 is found expedient to accuftom itudents to folve 
 problems by means of the particular numbers which 
 are given, before they are made acquainted with lit- 
 eral or fpecious arithmetic, it is not becaufe the for-. 
 mer procefles are lefs intricate than the latter, but be- 
 caufe their fcope and utility are more obvious, and 
 becaufe it is more eafy to illuftrate, by examples than 
 by words, the difference between a particular couj- 
 cluiion, and a general theorem. 
 
 The difference between the intelleflual procefTes 
 of the vulgar and of the philofopher, is perfectly a- 
 nalogous to that between the two dates of the alge- 
 
 ** in a singli; theorem. Their eve is confounded with such 
 " an exici^s ve prospect ; and the conclusior.s derived fr( m 
 " it, «;ven though clearly expressed, seem intricate and ob- 
 scure." 
 
 Hume's Political Discourses. 
 
190 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 braical art before and after the time of Vieta ; the 
 general terms which are ufed in the various fciences, 
 giving to thofe who can employ them with corred:- 
 nefs and dexterity, the fame fort of advantage over 
 the uncultivated iagacity of the bulk of mankind, 
 which the expert algebraift pofleffes over the arith* 
 fnetical accomptant. 
 
 If the foregoing dodrine be admitted as juft, it 
 exhibits a view of the utility of language, which ap- 
 pears to me to be peculiarly (Iriking and beautiful ; 
 as it fhews that the fame taculties which, without 
 the ufe of figns, muft neceffariiy Iiave been limited 
 to the confideration of individual obje<5is and partic- 
 ular events, are, by means of figns, fitted to embrace, 
 without effort, thofe comprehenfive theorems, to the 
 difcovery of which, in detail, the united efforts of 
 the whole human race would ha/e been unequal. 
 The advantage our animal Ifrength acquires by the 
 ufe of mechanical engines, exhibits but a faint inu 
 age of that increafe of our intelle(5tual capacity which 
 we owe to language. — It is this increafe of our nat- 
 ural powers of comprehenfion, which feems to be 
 the principal foundation of the pleafure we receive 
 from the difcovery of general theorems. Such a 
 dffcovery gives us at once the command of an infin- 
 ite variety of particular truths, and cotnmunicates 
 to the mind a fentiment of its own power, not un- 
 like tt> what we feel when we contemplate the mag- 
 nitude of thofe phyfical effects, of which we have 
 acquired the command by our mechanical contri- 
 vances. 
 
 It may perhaps appear, at firfl, to be a farther con- 
 fequence of the prmciples I have been endeavoring 
 to eflablifh, that the difficulty of philofophical diC 
 coveries is much lefs than is commonly imagined j 
 but the truth is, it only follows from them, that this 
 difficulty is of a different nature from what we are 
 apt to fuppofe, on a fuperficial view of the fubjed. 
 
OF THE HUMAN Mmo. 191 
 
 To employ, with Ikill, the very delicate inllrument 
 which nature has made eflentially fubfervient to 
 general reaioning, and to guard againft the errors 
 which refult from an injudicious ufe of it, require 
 an uncommon capacity of patient attention, and a 
 cautious circumfpeclion in conducing our various 
 intelleclual proceffes, which can only be acquired by 
 early habits of philofophical refledlion. To aflift and 
 dired us in making this acquifition ought to form 
 the moft important branch of a rational logic ; a 
 fcience of far more extenfive utility, and of which 
 the principles lie much deeper in the philofopby of 
 the human mind, than the trifling art which is com- 
 monly dignified with that name. The branch in 
 particular to which the foregoing obfervations more 
 immediately relate, muft forever remain in its in- 
 fancy, till a moft difficult and important defidera- 
 tum in the hiftory of the mind is fupplied, by an ex- 
 planation of the gradual fteps by which it acquires 
 the ufe of the various clafles of words which com- 
 pole the language of a cultivated and enlightened 
 people. Of fome of the errors in reafoning to which 
 we are expofed by an incautious ufe of words, I 
 took notice in the preceding fedion ; and I Ihall 
 have occafion afterwards to treat the fame fubjed 
 more in detail in a fubfequent part of my work. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Of the Errors to which ive are liable in Speculation, and 
 in the condud of affairs ^ in confcquence of a rafh appli- 
 cation of general Principles* 
 
 IT appears fufficiendy from the reafonings which 
 I offered in the preceding Setlion, how important 
 are the advantages wliich the philofopher acquires, 
 by quitting the ftudy of particular'^:, and dirccling 
 
192 ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 his attention to general principles. I flatter myfelf 
 it appears farther, from the fame reafonings, that it 
 is in confequenee of the ufe of language alone, that 
 the human mind is rendered capable of thefe com- 
 prehenfive ipeculations. 
 
 In order, however, to proceed with fafety in the 
 tife of general principles, much caution and addrefs 
 are neceffary, both in eftablifliing their truth, and 
 in applying them to practice. Without a proper 
 attention to the circumftances by which their appli* 
 cation to particular cafes muft be modified, they 
 will be a perpetual fource of miftake, and of difap- 
 pointment, in the condufl of affairs, huwever rigid- 
 ly juft they may be in themfelves, and however ac- 
 curately we may reafon from them. If our general 
 principles happen to be falfe, they will involve us 
 in errors, not only of conduct but of (peculation ; 
 and our errors will be the more numerous^ the more 
 comprehenfive the principles are on which we pro- 
 ceed. 
 
 To illuftrate thefe obfervations fully, would lead 
 to a minutenefs of dilquifition inconfiftent with my 
 general plan ; and I fhall therefore, at prefent, con- 
 fine myfelf to fuch remarks as appear to be of moft 
 elTential im]>ortance. 
 
 And, in the firft place, it is evidently impofiible 
 to eftablifh folid general principles, without the pre- 
 vious lludy of particulars ; in other words, it is ne- 
 celLiry to begin with the examination of individual 
 objeds, and individual events; in order to lay a 
 ground- work of accurate clafiification, and for a 
 juft inveiligation of the laws of nature. It is in 
 this way only that we can expect to arrive at gene- 
 ral principles, which may be fafely relied on, as 
 guides to the knowledge of particular truths : and 
 unless our principles admit of such a pradical ap- 
 plication, however beautiful they may appear to be 
 in theory, they are of far less value than the iimit- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 193 
 
 ed acquifitions of the vulgar. The truth of thefe 
 remarks is^now fo univerfally admitted, and is in- 
 deed fo obvious in itfelf, that it would be fuperflu- 
 ous to multiply words in fupporting them ; and I 
 fhould fcarcely have thought of ftating them in 
 this Chapter, if lome of the moft celebrated philof- 
 ophers of antiquity had not been led to difputc 
 them, in conlequence of the miftaken opinions 
 which they entertiiined concerning the nature of u- 
 niverfals. Forgetting that genera and /pedes are 
 mere arbitrary creations which the human mind 
 forms, by withdrawing the attention from the dif. 
 tinguifhing qualities of objects, and giving a common 
 name to their refembling qualities, they conceived 
 univerfals to be real exiliences, or, (as they expref- 
 fed it) to be the elTences of individuals ; and flatter- 
 ed themfelves with the belief, that by direding tlieir 
 attention to thefe eHences m the firft inftance, they 
 might be enabled to penetrate the fecrets of the uni- 
 verfe, without fubmittiiig to the ftudy of nature in 
 detail. Thefe errors, which were common to the 
 Piatonifts and the Peripatetics, and which both of 
 them feem to have adopted from the Pythagorean 
 fchool, contributed,' perhaps, more than any thing 
 elfe, to retard the progrefs of the ancients in phyfic- 
 al knowledge. The late learned Mr. Harris is al- 
 moft the only author of the prefent age who has 
 ventured to defend this plan of philolophifing, in 
 oppofition to that which has been fo fuccelstuiiy fol- 
 lowed by the difciples of lord Bucon. 
 
 " The Platonics," fays he, " confidering fcience 
 " as fomething aicertained, definite, and fleady, 
 *' would admit nothing to be its objccSi: which was 
 *' vague, indefinite, and paffing. For this realon 
 *' they excluded all individuals or objeds of fenle, 
 " and (as Amutor.ius oxprefles it) railed themfelves 
 *' in their contemplations from beings particular to 
 "beings univerfal, and which, from their own na^ 
 Aa 
 
194* ELEMENTS OE THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " ture, were eternarl and definite.'" — " Confonant to" 
 " this was the advice of Plato, with refpecl to the 
 " progrefs of our fpeculations and inquiries, to de- 
 " fcend from thofe hi^s^her genera, which include ma- 
 ** ny fubordinate fpecies, down to the loweft rank 
 ** of fpecies, thofe which include only individuals. 
 *' But here it was his opinion, that our inquiries 
 *' fhould flop, and, as to individuals, let them whol- 
 *' ly alone ; becaufe of th^fe there could not pofTibly 
 *' be any fcience/'* 
 
 " Such," continues this author, " was the method 
 ^* of ancient philofophy. The fafliion, at prefent, 
 " appears to be fomewhat altered, and the bufinefs 
 *' of philofophers to be little elfe than the colleding 
 *' from every quarter, into voluminous records, an 
 ** infinite number of fenfible, particular, and uncon- 
 •' neded fads, the chief effect of which is to excite 
 ** our admiration." — In another part of his works 
 the fame author obferves, that " the mind, truly 
 *' wife, quitting the ftudy of particulars, as knowing 
 *' their multitude to be infinite and incomprehenfi- 
 *' ble, turns its intellectual eye to what is general 
 ** and comprehcnfive, and through generals learns to 
 •' fee, and recognife whatever exifts."t 
 
 If we abftract from thefe obvious errors of the an- 
 cient philofophers, with refped to the proper order 
 to be obferved ia our inquiries, and only fuppofe 
 them to end where the Piatonifts faid that they 
 fliould begin the magnificent encomiums they be- 
 ftowed on the utility of thofe comprehenfive truths 
 which form the obje<5l: of fcience (making allowance 
 for the obfcure and myfterious terms in which they 
 expreffed them) can icarcely be regarded as extrava- 
 gant. It is probable tiiat from a few accidental in- 
 ilances of luccefsful inveftigation, they had beeis 
 
 * Harris's Three Treatises, page 341, 342. 
 t Ibid p. 227. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 195 
 
 •itruck with the wonderful effed of general principles 
 in increafmg the intdledual power of the human 
 mind ; and, mifled by that impatience in the fludy 
 of particulars which is fo often connected with the 
 confcioufnefs of fuperior ability, they'labored to per- 
 fuade themfelves, that, by a life devoted to abftrad 
 meditation, fuch principles might be rendered as 
 immediate objeds of intellectual perception, as the 
 individuals which compofe the material world arc 
 of our external fenfes. By connedling this opinion 
 with their other d®clrlnes concerning univerlals, 
 they were unfortunately enabled to exhibit it in fo 
 myfterious a form, as not only to impofe on them- 
 felves, but to perplex the underilandings of all the 
 Jearned in Europe, for a long fuccefllon of ages. 
 
 The conclulion to which we are led by the fore- 
 going obfervations is, that the foundation of all hu- 
 man knowledge muft be laid in the examination of 
 particular objects and particular fad:s ; and that it is 
 only as far as our general principles are refolvable 
 into thefe primary elements, that they poflefs either 
 truth or utility. It muft not, however, be under- 
 llood to be implied in this conclufion, that all our 
 knowledge muft ultimately reft on our own proper 
 experience. If this were the cafe, the progrefs of 
 fcience, and the progrefs of human improvement, 
 muft have been wonderfully retarded ; for, if it had 
 been neceftary for each individual to torm a claflifi- 
 cation of objects, in confequence of obfervations and 
 abftradtions of his own, and to infer from the actual 
 examination of particular facts, the general truths on 
 which his conduct proceeds ; human aftVirs would 
 at this day remain nearly in the fame ftate to which 
 they were brought by the experience of the firft gen- 
 eration. In fact, this is very nearly the (ituation of 
 the fpecies in all thole parts of the world, in which 
 "the exiftence of the race depends on the feparate ef- 
 forts which each individual makes, in procuring for 
 
196 fiLEMENTS OF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 himfelf the necefTaries of life ; and in which, of con- 
 fequence, the habits and acquirements of each indi- 
 vi«lual muft be the refuk of his own perfonal expe- 
 rience. In cultivated fociety, one of the firft acqui- 
 iitions which children make, is the ufe of language ; 
 by which means they are familiarifed. from their 
 earlieft years, to the confideratic »n of ciiilTes of objedls, 
 and of general truths ; and before that time of life 
 at which the favage is poffefTed of the knowledge ne- 
 celTary for his own prefervation, are ena' 'led to ap- 
 propriate to themfelves the accumulated dilcoveries 
 of ages. 
 
 Notwithftanding, however, the ftationary condi- 
 tion in which the race mult, of neceflity, continue, 
 prior to the feparation of arts and profeflions ; the 
 natural difpofition of the mind to afcend from par- 
 ticular truths to general conclufions, could not fail to 
 lead individuals, even in the rudeft itate of fociety, 
 to colled: the refults of their experience, for their 
 own inftrudion and that of others. But, without 
 the ufe of general terms, the only poilible way of 
 communicating fuch conclulions, would be by means 
 of fome particular example, of which the general 
 application was (Iriking and obvious. In other 
 •words, the wifdom of luch ages will neceflarily be 
 exprefTed in the form of fables or parables, or in the 
 Hill (impler form of proverbial inftances ; and not in 
 the fcientific form of general maxims. In this way, 
 undoubtedly, much ufeful inftrudion,both of a pru- 
 dential and moral kind, might be conveyed : at the 
 fame time, it is obvious, that, while general truths 
 continued to be exprefsed merely by particular exem- 
 plifications, they would afford little or no opportu- 
 nity to one generation to improve on the fpeculations 
 of another ; as no effort of the underflanding could 
 combine them together, or employ them as premifes, 
 in order to obtain other conclufions more remote 
 and comprehenfive. For this purpofe, it is ablolute- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 197 
 
 ly neceflary that the fcope or nidral of the fable 
 fliouU be feparated entirely from its acceflfory cir- 
 cumftances, and ftated in the form of a g-^nerai pro- 
 poiition. 
 
 From what has nvow been faid, it appears, how 
 much the progrefs of human reafon, which neceffa- 
 rily accompanies the progrefs of Ibciety, is owing to 
 the introduction of general terms, and to the ui'e of 
 general proportions. In confpquence of the gradual 
 improvements which take place in language as an 
 inftrument of thought, the claffifications both of 
 things and fids with which the infant faculties of 
 each fucceflive race are converfant, are more juil and 
 more comprehenfive than thofe of their predeceflors : 
 the difcoveries which, in one age, were confined to 
 the ftudious and enlightened few, becoming in the 
 next the eftabliflied creed of the learned ; and in the 
 third, forming part of ttie elementary principles of 
 education. Indeed, among thofe who enjoy the ad- 
 vantages of early inftru6lion,fome of the moll remote 
 and wonderful conclufions of the human intelled, 
 are, even in infancy, as completely famiUarifed to 
 the mind, as the moil obvious phenomena which 
 the material world exhibits to their fenfes. 
 
 If thefe remarks be juft, they open an unbounded 
 profpedt of intellectual improvement to future ages ; 
 as they point out a provifion made by nature to fa- 
 cilitate and abridge, more and more, the procefs of 
 ftudy, in proportion as the truths to be acquired in- 
 creafe in number. Nor is this profped derived from 
 theory alone. It is encouraged by the pad hillory 
 of all the fciences ; in a more particular man^^er, by 
 that of mathematics, in which the ftate of difcovery, 
 and the prevailing methods of inftrudion, may, at 
 all times be eafily compared together. In this lail 
 obfervation I have been anticipated by a late emi- 
 nent mathematician, whofe eloquent and philofoph- 
 ical llatement of the argument cannot fail to carry 
 
198 ELExMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 convi6lion to thofe, who are qualified to judge ot 
 the fads on which his conclufion is founded : 
 
 " To fuch ot my readers, as may be flow in 
 *' admitting the poflibility of this progreffive im- 
 *' provement in the human race, allow me to ftate 
 *' as an example, the hiflory of that fcience in which 
 ** the advances of difcovery are the moft certain, and 
 " in which they may be meafured with the greateft 
 *' precifion. Thofe elementary truths of geometry 
 ^' and of aftronomy which, in India and Egypt, 
 *' formed an occult fcience, upon which an ambitious 
 *' priefthood founded its influence, were become, in 
 *' the times of Archimedes and Hipparchus, the fub- 
 *' je6ls of common education in the public fchools of 
 *' Greece. In the lafl: century, a few years of fludy 
 " were fufficient for comprehending all that Archi- 
 *' medes and Hipparchus knew ; and, at prefent, 
 *' two years employed under an able teacher, carry 
 *' the ftudent beyond thofe conclufions, which limit- 
 *' ed the inquiries of Leibnitz and of Newton. Let 
 ** any perfon reflect on thefe fads : let him follow 
 *' the immenfe chain which conneds the inquiries of 
 *' Euler with thofe of a Prieft of Memphis ; let him 
 " obferve, at each epoch, how genius outftrips the 
 *' prefent age, and how it is overtaken by mediocrity 
 *• in the next ; he will perceive, that nature has 
 " furniflied us with the means of abridging and fa- 
 *' cilitating our intelledual labor, and that there is 
 *' no reafon for apprehending that fuch fimplifica- 
 *' tions can ever have an end. He will perceive, 
 ^^ that at the moment when a multitude of particu- 
 " lar folutions, and of infulated fads, begin to dis- 
 " trad the attention, and to overcharge the memo- 
 " ry, the former gradually lofe themfelves in one 
 *' general method, and the latter unite in one gen- 
 *' eral law ; and that thefe generalizations continu- 
 *' ally fucceeding on.e to another, like the fucceilive 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. , I9^ 
 
 ** multiplications of a number by itfelf, have no 
 ^ other limit, than that infinity which the human 
 " faculties are unable to comprehend.* 
 
 SECTION VII. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Subje6l^ — Differences in the In* 
 ielledual Charaders of Individuals^ arifingfrom their 
 Afferent Habits of Ab/ira6lion and Generalifation, 
 
 IN mentioning as one of the principal efFeci:s of 
 civllifation, its tendency to familiarife the mind to 
 general terms, and to general propofitions, I did not 
 mean to fay, that this influence extends equally to 
 all the claffes of men in fociety. On the contrary, 
 it is evidently confined, in a great meafure, to thofe 
 who receive a liberal education ; while the minds of 
 the lower orders, like thofe of favages, are fo habitu- 
 ally occupied about particular objeds and particular 
 events, that, although they are fometimes led, from 
 imitation, to employ general exprefilons, the ufe 
 which they make of them is much more the refult of 
 memor}' than judgment ; and it is but feldom that 
 they are able to comprehend fully, any procefs of 
 reafoning in which they are involved. 
 
 It is hardly neceffary for me to remark, that this 
 obfervation, with refpe6l: to the incapacity of the 
 vulgar for general fpeculations, (Pike all obfervations 
 of a fimilar nature,) mufl be received with fome re- 
 ftrictions. In fuch a ftate of fociety as that in which 
 we live, there is hardly any individual to be found, 
 to whom fome general terms, and Ibme general 
 truths, are not pertedly familiar ; and, thei efore, the 
 foregoing conclulions are to be confidercd as deicrip- 
 tive of thofe habits of thought alone, which are moll 
 
 * See Note [M.] 
 
200 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 prevalent in their mind. To abridge the labor of 
 reafoning, and of memnry, by direding the attention 
 to general principles, inftead of particular truths, is 
 the profefled aim of all philofophy ; and according 
 as individuals have more or lels of the philofophic 
 fpirit, their habitual fpeculations (whatever the na- 
 ture of their purfuits may be) will relate to the for- 
 mer, or to the latter, of thefe obje^fls. 
 
 There are, therefore, among the men who are ac- 
 cuftomed to the exercile of their intelleffual powers, 
 two claiTes, whofe habits of thought are remarkalDly 
 diftinguillied from each other ; the one clafs com- 
 prehending what we commonly call men of bufinefs, 
 or, more properly, men of detail ^ the other, men 
 of abftradlion ; or, in other words, philofophers. 
 
 The advantages which, in certain rcfpefts, the 
 latter of thefe poflefs over the former, have been 
 already pointed out ; but it muft not be fuppofed, 
 that thefe advantages are always pur chafed without 
 fome inconvenience. As the folidity of our general 
 principles depends on the accuracy of the particular 
 obfervations into which they are ultimately refolva- 
 ble, fo their utility is to be eftimated by the practical 
 applications of which they admit : and it unfortu- 
 nately happens, that the fame turn of mind which is 
 favourable to philofophical purfuits, unlefs it be kept 
 under proper regulation, is extremely apt to difqual- 
 ify us for applying our knowledge to ufe, in the ex- 
 ercife of the arts, and in the conduct of affairs. 
 
 In order to perceive the truthof thefe remarks, it 
 is almoft fulEcient to recollect, that as claflification, 
 and, of confequence, general reafoning, prefuppofe 
 the exercife of abftraftion ; a natural dilpofition to 
 indulge in them, cannot fail to lead the mind to over- 
 look the fpecific difference of things, in attending to 
 their common qualities. To fucceed, however, in 
 pradice, a familiar and circumftantial acquaintance 
 with the particular objects which fall under our ob- 
 fervation, is indifpenlably neceffary. 
 
OF THfi HUMAN MIND. 201 
 
 But, farther ; As all general principles are founded 
 on claffifications which imply the exercife of abilrac- 
 tions ; it is neceflary to regard them, in their prac- 
 tical applications, merely as approxinidtions to the 
 truth ; the defeds of which, muft be fupplied by 
 habits acquired by perfonal experience. In conlid- 
 ering, for example, the theory of the mechanical 
 powers ; it is ufual to hmplify the objects of our 
 conception, by abftracling from friction, and from 
 the weight of the different parts of which they are 
 compofed. Levers are confidered as mathematical 
 lines, perfectly inflexible ; and ropcb, as matheniati- 
 cal lines, perfectly flexible ; and by means of thefe, 
 and fimilar abftraclions, a fubjecf, which is in itfeif 
 extremely complicated, is brought within the reach 
 of elementary geometry. In the theory of politics, 
 we find it neceflary to abftracf from many of the 
 peculiarities which diftinguifli diff'erent forms of 
 government from each other, and to reduce them to 
 certain general clafles, according to their prevailirg 
 tendency. Although all the governments we have 
 ever feen, have had more or lefs of mixture in their 
 compofltion, we reafon concerning pure monarchies, 
 pure ariftocracies, and pure democracies, as if thei e 
 really exifted political eftablifliments correfpondirg 
 to our definitions. Without fuch a claflification, it 
 would be impoflible for us to fix our attention, amidfl: 
 the multiplicity of particulars which the iiibjed pre- 
 fents to us, or to arrive at any general principles, 
 which might f^rve to guide our enquiries in com* 
 paring different inftitutions together. 
 
 It is for a fimilar reafon, that the fpeculative farmer 
 reduces the infinite variety of foils to a few general 
 defcriptions 5 the phyfician, the infinite variety of 
 bodily conftitutions to a few temperaments ; and 
 the moralift, the infinite variety of human characters 
 to a few of the ruling principles of action. 
 
 Notwithftanding, however, the obvious advanta- 
 Bb 
 
202 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ges we derive from thefe clafTifications, and the gen- 
 eral conclufions to which they lead ; it is evidently 
 impollible, that principles, which derived their ori- 
 gin from efforts of abilra^lion, ftiould apply literally 
 to praciice ; or, indeed, that they {hould afford us 
 any confiderable affiftance in conduct, without a 
 certain degree of practical and experimental fkill. 
 Hence it is, that the mere theorift fo frequently ex- 
 pofes himfelf, in real life, to the ridicule of men 
 whom he defpifes ; and in the geneal eftimation of 
 the world, falls below the level of the common 
 drudges in bufinefs and the arts. The walk, indeed, 
 of thefe unenlightened praditioners, muft neceifari- 
 ly be limited by their accidental opportunities of ex- 
 perience ; but, fo far as they go, they operate with 
 facility and fuccefs ; while the merely fpeculative 
 philofopher, although pofTelfed of principles which 
 enable him to approximate to the truth, in an infin- 
 ite variety of untried cafes, and although he fees, 
 with pity, the narrow views of the multitude, and 
 the ludicrous pretenfions with which they frequent- 
 ly oppofe their trifling fuccelTes to his theoretical fpec- 
 ulations, finds himfelf perfecl:ly at a lofs, when he is 
 called upon, by the fimpleil occurrences of ordinary 
 life, to carry his principles into execution. Hence 
 the origin of that maxim, " which" (as Mr. Hume 
 remarks) " has been fo induftriouHy propagated by 
 *^ the dunces of every age, that a man of genius is 
 unfit for bufinefs." 
 
 In what confifts practical or experimental Ikill, it 
 is not eafy to explain completely ; but, among other 
 things, it obvioufly implies, a talent for minute and 
 comprehenfive and rapid obfervation ; a memory, 
 at once retentive and ready ; in order to prefent to 
 us accurately, and without reflection, our theoi et'cal 
 knowledge ; a prefence of mind, not to be difcon- 
 certed by unexpectv^d occurrences ; and, in fome 
 cafes, an uncommon degree of perfection in the ex- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 2QS 
 
 ternal fenfes, and in the mechanical capacities of the 
 body. All thefe elements of praclical (kill, it is ob- 
 vious, are to be acquired only by habits of active ex- 
 ertion, and by a familiar acquaintance with real oc- 
 currences ; for, as all the pradical principles of our 
 nature, both intellecflual and animal, have a reference 
 to particulars, and not to generals, fo it is in the ac* 
 tive fcenes of life alone, and amidft the details of bu- 
 finefs, that they can be cultivated and improved. 
 
 The remarks which have been already made, are 
 fufficienc to iiluftrate the impoifibility of acquiring 
 a talent for bufmefs, or for any of the pradical arts 
 of life, without actual experience. They Ihew alfo, 
 that mere experience, without theory, may qualify 
 a man, in certain cafes, for diftinguifhing himfeif in 
 both. It is not, however, to be imagined, that in 
 this way individuals are to be formed for the un- 
 common, or for the important fituations of fociety, 
 or even for enriching the arts by new inventions 5 
 for, as their addrefs and dexterity are founded en- 
 tirely on imitation, or derived from the lelTons which 
 experience has fuggefted to them, they cannot polli- 
 bly extend to new combinations of circumftances. 
 Mere experience, therefore, can, at beft, prepare the 
 mind for the fubordinate departments or Hfe ; for 
 conducting the eftabliflied routine of bufiiiefs, or for 
 a ferviie repetition in the arts of common opera- 
 tions. 
 
 In the charader of Mr. George Grenville, which 
 Mr. Burke introduced in his celebrated Speech on 
 American Taxation, a lively pidture is drawn of the 
 infudiciency of mere experience to qualify a man for 
 new and untried fituations in the adminiftration of 
 government. The obfervations he makes on this 
 fubject, are exprelTed with his ufual beauty and feli- 
 city of language ; and are of fo general a nature, 
 that, with fome trifling alterations, they may be ex- 
 tended to all the pradical purfuits of life. 
 
204 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " Mr. Grenville was bred to the law, whkh is, in 
 *' my opinion, one of the firft and nobleft of human 
 *' fciences ; a fcience which does more to quicken 
 *' and invigorate 'heunderftanding, than all the oth- 
 *' er kinds of learn* ng put together ; but it is not 
 " apt, except in perfons very happily born, to open 
 *' and to liberalife the mind exactly in the fame pro- 
 *' P')rtion. Pafling from that fludy, he did not go 
 " very largely into the world, but plunged into bu- 
 " linefs ; I mean, into bufinefs of office, and the lim- 
 *' ited and fixed methods and forms eftabliftied 
 *' there. Much knowledge is to be had, undoubted- 
 *' ly, in that line ; and there is no knowledge which 
 *' is not valuable. But it may be truly laid, that 
 " men too much converfant in office, are rarely 
 *' minds of remarkable enlarajement. Their habits 
 *' of office are apt to give them a turn to think the 
 *' fubftance of bufinefs not to be much more impor- 
 " tant, than the forms in which it is conducted* 
 *' Thefe forms are adapted to ordinary occafior-s ; 
 " and, therefore, perfons who are nurtured in office, 
 *' do admirably well, as long as things go on in their 
 *' common order ; but when the high roads are bro- 
 *' ken up, and the waters out, when a new and 
 *' troubled fcene is opened, and the file affords no 
 *' precedent, then it is, that a greater knowledge of 
 *' mankind, and a far more extenfive comprehenfion 
 " of things, is requifite, than ever office gave, or than 
 *' office can ever give." 
 
 Nor is it in new combinations of circumftances 
 alone, that general principles affift us in the conduct 
 of affairs ; they render the application of our pradli- 
 cal fkill more unerring, and more perfed. For, as 
 general principles limit the utility of practical Ikill to 
 fupply the imperfections of theory, they diminifh 
 the number of cafes in which this fkill is to be em- 
 ployed ; and thus, at once, facilitate its improve- 
 ment, wherever it is requifite j and leflen the errors 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 205 
 
 to which It is liable, by contrafting the field within 
 which it is poflible to commit them. 
 
 It would appear then, that there are two oppofite 
 extreme . into which men are apt to fall, in prepar- 
 ing themfelves for the duties of adive life. 1 he 
 one arifes from habits of abftracElion and generalifa- 
 tion carried to an excefs ; the other from a minute, 
 an exclufive, and an unenlightened attention to the 
 objects and events which happen to fall under their 
 actual experience. 
 
 In a perfect fyftem of education, care fliould be 
 taken to guard againft both extremes, and to unite 
 habits of abftradlion with habits of bufinefs, in fuch 
 a manner as to enable men to confider things, either 
 in general, or in derail, as the occafion may require. 
 Whichever of thefe habits may happen to gain an 
 undue afcendant over the mind, it will neceffarily 
 produce a character limited in its powers, and fitted 
 only for particular exertions. Hence fome of the 
 apparent inconfiftencies which we may frequently 
 remark in the intellectual capacities of the fame per- 
 fon. One man, from an early indulgence in ab- 
 ftra6t fpeculation, pofT ffes a knowledge of general 
 principles, and a talent for general reafoning, united 
 with a fluency and eloquence in the ufe of general 
 terms, which feem, to the vulgar, to announce abili- 
 ties fitted for any given ficuation in life : while, in 
 the conduct of the fimpleft afiliirs, he exhibits every 
 mark of irrefolution, and incapacity. Another not 
 only a.ts with propriety, and fkill, in circumftances 
 which require a minute attention to details, but pof- 
 felT^s an acutenefs of reafoning, and a facility of ex- 
 preflion on all fubjects, in which nothing but what 
 is particular is involved ; while, on general topics, 
 he is perfectly unable either to reafon, or to judge. 
 It is this lalt turn of mind, which I think we have, 
 in moft inftances, in view, when we fpeak of good 
 fenfe, Or common fenfe, in oppofition to icience and 
 
206 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 philofophy. Both philofophy and good fenfe imply 
 the exercife of our reafoning powers ; and they dif- 
 fer from each other only, according as thele powers 
 are applied to particulars or to generals. It is on 
 good ienfe (in tlie acceptation in which 1 have now 
 explained the tern)) that the fuccefs of men in the 
 inlerior walks of life chiefly depends ; but, that it 
 does not always indicate a capacity for abftracl fci- 
 ence, or for general fpeculation, or for able condud 
 in fituations which require comprehenfive views, is 
 matter even of vulgar remark. 
 
 Althofigh, however, each of thefe defers has a 
 tendency to limit the utility of the individuals in 
 whom it is to be found, to certain ftations in focie- 
 ty ; no comparifon can be made, in point of origin- 
 al value, between the intelled:ual capacities of the 
 two clalTes of men to which they charadleriflical- 
 ly belong. The one is the defect of a vigorous, an 
 ambitious, and a comprehenfive genius, improperly 
 directed ; the other, of an underftanding, minute 
 and circumfcribed in its views, timid in its exertions, 
 and formed for fervile imitation. Nor is the for- 
 mer Refect, (hovi^ever difficult it may be to remove 
 it when confirmed by long habit,) by any means fo 
 incurable as the latter ; for it arifes, not from ori- 
 ginal conftitution, but from fome fault in early 
 education ; while every tendency to the oppofite ex- 
 treme is more or lefs charad:eriftical of a mind, ufe- 
 ful, indeed, in a high degree, when confined to its 
 proper fphere, but deftined, by the hand that form- 
 ed it, to borrow its lights from another. 
 
 As an additional proof of the natural fuperiority 
 which men of general views poflefs over the com- 
 mon drudges in bufinefs, it may be farther obferved, 
 that the habits of inattention incident to the former, 
 arife in part from the little interefi: which they take 
 in particular objeds and particular occurrences, and 
 are not wholly to be afcribed to an incapacity of at- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 20? 
 
 tention. When the mind has been long acaiftora- 
 ed to the confideration of claffes of objects and of 
 comprehenfive theorems, it cannot, without fome 
 degree of effort, defcend to that humble walk ot ex- 
 perience, or of ad:ion, in which the nieaneft of 
 mankind are on a level with the greateft. In im- 
 portant iituations, accordingly, men of the moft 
 general views, are found not to be ini^erior to the 
 vulgar in their attention to details ; becaufe the ob- 
 jedls and occurrences which fuch fituations prefent, 
 roufe their pa (lions, and intereft their curiofity,from 
 the magnitude of the confequences to which they 
 fead. 
 
 When theoretical knowledge and practical Ikili 
 are happily combined in the fame perfon, the intel- 
 le^rual power of man appears in its full perfection ; 
 and fits him equally to conduct, with a mafterly 
 hand, the details of ordinary bufinefs, and to con- 
 tend fuccefsfully with the untried difficulties of new 
 and hazardous fituations. In conducing the for- 
 mer, mere experience may frequently be a fufficient 
 guide, but experience and fpeculation muft be com- 
 bined together to prepare us for the latter. " Ex- 
 " pert men," fays Lord Bacon, " can execute and 
 " judge of particulars one by one ; but the general 
 " counfels, and the plots, and the marfhalling of af- 
 " fairs, come bell from thofe that are learned." 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Subjed. — life and Abufj of gen- 
 eral Principles /'« Politics,* 
 
 THE foregoing remarks, on the dangers to be 
 apprehended from a rafli application of general prin- 
 
 * The events which have happened since the publication of the 
 former edition of this volume in 1792, naight hiive enabled me \f* 
 
208 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ciples, hold equally with refpe^l to raoft of the prac- 
 tical arts. Among thefe, however, there is one of 
 far fuperior dignity to the reft ; which, partly on 
 account of its importance, and partly on account of 
 fome peculiarities in its nature, feems to be entitled 
 to a more particular confideration. The art 1 allude 
 to, is that of Legillation ; an art which differs from 
 all others in fome very eil'ential refpecls, and to 
 which, the reafonings in the laft Section muft be ap- 
 plied with many reftriclions. 
 
 Before proceeding farther, it is neccffary for me 
 to premife, that it is chiefly in compliance with 
 common language and common prejudices, that I 
 am fometimes led, in the following obiervations, to 
 contraft theory with experience. In the proper 
 fenfe of the word Theory, it is fo far from {landing 
 in oppofition to experience, that it imphes a knowl- 
 edge of principles, of which the moll extenfive ex- 
 perience alone could put us in pofTeflion. Prior to 
 the time of Lord Bacon, indeed, an acquaintance 
 with facls was not confidered as effential to the form- 
 ation of theories ; and from thefe ages, has defcen- 
 dedto us, an indifcriminate prejudice againfl gener- 
 al principles, even in thofe cafes in which they have 
 been fairly obtained in the way of induction. 
 
 confirm many of the observations in this Section, by an appeal to 
 facts stiU fresh in the reco!l<?ction of my Readers ; and in one or 
 two instances by slight verbal corrections, to guard against the 
 possibility of uncandid misinterpretation : but, for various reasons, 
 which it is unnecessary to state at poescnt, 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 fa- 
 vorable to the good order and tranquility of society, cannot be dis- 
 puted ; ar^d as far as I myself am personally interested, I have no 
 wish to vitiate the record which it exhibits of my opinions. 
 
 On some pomts which are touched upon very slightly here, I 
 have explained myself more fully, in the fourth Section of my Bi- 
 ographical Account of Mr. SmHh, read before the Royal Society of 
 Edinburgh in 1793, and published in the thifd Volume of their 
 Transactions. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 209 
 
 But not to difpute about words : there are plain- 
 ly two fets of political reafoners ; one of which con- 
 fider the actual inftirutions of mankind as the only 
 fafe foundation for our conclulions, and think every 
 plan of legiflation chimerical, which is not copied 
 from one which has already been realifed ; while 
 the other apprehend that, in many cafes, we may 
 reafon fafely a priori from the known principles of 
 human nature, combined with the particular cir- 
 cumftances of the times. The former are common- 
 ly underftood as contending for experience in oppo- 
 fition to theory ; the latter are accufed of trufting 
 to theory unfupported by experience : but it ought 
 to be remembered, that the political theorift, if he 
 proceeds cautioufly and philofophically, founds his 
 conclufions ultimately on experience, no lefs than 
 the political empiric ; — as the aftronomer, who pre- 
 dicts an eclipfe from his knowledge of the principles 
 of the fcience, refts his expedation of the event on 
 fads which have been previoufly afcertained by ob- 
 fervation, no lefs than if he inferred it, without any 
 reafoning, from his knowledge of a cycle. 
 
 There is, indeed, a certain degree of practical jQ?:ill 
 which habits of bufinefs alone can give, and without 
 which the moft enlightened politician muft always 
 appear to difadvantage when he attempts to carry his 
 plans into execution. And as this fkill is often fin 
 confequence of the ambiguity of language) denoted 
 by the word Experience ; while it is feldom poiTeiTed 
 by thofe men, who have moft carefully ftudied the 
 theory of legiflation ; it has been very generally 
 concluded, that politics is merely a matter of rout- 
 ine, in which philofophy is rather an obftacle to fuc- 
 cefs. The ftatefman who has been formed among 
 official details, is compared to the pra<^ical engineer \ 
 the fpeculative legiflator, to the theoretical mechan- 
 ician who has pafled his life among books and dia- 
 grams. — In order to afcertain how far this opinion 
 Cc 
 
210 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 is juft, it may be of ufe to compare the art of leg- 
 ill ition with thofe pradical applications of mechan- 
 ical principles^ by which the oppofers of political 
 theories have fo often endeavored to illullrate their 
 reafonings. 
 
 I. In the firft place, then, it may be remarkedjthat 
 the errors to which we are liable, in the ufe of gen- 
 eral mechanical principles, are owing, in moft inftan^ 
 ces, to the effedl which habits of abftraction are apt 
 to have, in withdrawing the attention from thofe 
 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 tafte,or 
 by early habits, to prefer the fpeculations of the 
 clofet, to the buftle of adive life, and to the fatigue of 
 nvinute and circumftantial obfervation. 
 
 In politics, too, one fpecies of principles is often 
 misapplied from an inattention to circumftances j 
 thofe which are deduced from a few examples of par- 
 ticular governments, and which are occalionally quo- 
 ted as univerfal political axioms, which every wife 
 legillator ought to affume as the ground-work of 
 his reafonings. But this abufe of general princi- 
 ples (hould by no means be afcribed, like the abfur- 
 dities of the fpeculative mechanician, to over-refine- 
 ment, and the love of theory ; for it arifes from 
 weakneiTes, which philofophy alone can remedy ; 
 an unenlightened veneration for maxims which are 
 fuppofed to have the fanction of time in their favor, 
 and a paflive acquiefcence in received opinion s. 
 
 There is another clafs of principles, from which 
 political concluiions have fometimes been deduced j 
 and which, notwithftandiiig the common prejudice 
 againil them, are a much lurer foundation for our 
 reafonings : I allude, at prefent, to thofe principles 
 which we obtain from an examination of the human 
 conltitution, aad of the general laws which regulate 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 211 
 
 the courfe of human aiFairs ; principles, which are 
 certainly the refult of a much more extenfive induc- 
 tion, than any of the inferences that can be drawn 
 from the hiftory of a6tua} eftablifhments. 
 
 In applying, indeed, fuch principles to pradice, it 
 is neceffary (as well as in mechanics) to pay attention 
 to the peculiarities of the cafe ; but it is by no 
 means neceffary to pay the fame fcrupulous atten- 
 tion to minute circumftances, which is effential in 
 the mechanical arts, or in the management of private 
 bufinefs. There is even a danger of dwelling too 
 much on details, and of rendering the mind incapa- 
 ble of thofe abftract and comprehenfive views of hu- 
 man affairs, which can alone furnifh the ftatefman 
 with fixed and certain maxims for the regulation 
 of his conduct. " When a man, (fays Mr. Hume) 
 " deliberates concerning his conduct in ^rny pariku' 
 " lar affair, and forms fchemes in politics,trade,oecon- 
 '' omy, or any bufinefs in life, he never ought to 
 <* draw his arguments too fine, or connect too long 
 " a chain of confequences together. Something is 
 " fure to happen, that will difconcert his reafoning, 
 *' and produce an event different from what he ex- 
 " pe6ted. But when we reafon upon general fub- 
 " jeds, one may juftly afiirm, that our fpeculations 
 " can fcarce ever be too fine, provided they are juft ; 
 " and that the difference betwixt a common man 
 " and a man of geniils, is chiefly feen in the fhallow- 
 '' nefs or depth of the principles upon which they 
 *' proceed. — 'Ti 3 certain that general principles, how- 
 " ever intricate they may feem, mull always, if they 
 " are juft and found, prevail in the general courfe of 
 '* things, though they may fail in particular cafes ; 
 *' and it is the chief bufinefs of philofophers to re- 
 ** gard the general courfe of things. I may add, 
 " that it is alfo the chief bufinefs oi politicians ; ef- 
 " pecially in the domefl:ic governinent of the ftate, 
 ^ where the public good, which is, or ought to be. 
 
512 ELEMENTS OV TH3 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " their obje(^, depends on the concurrence of amul- 
 *' titude of cafes, not, as in foreign politics, upon ac- 
 " cidents, and chances, and the caprices of a few per- 
 « fons."* 
 
 11. The difficulties which, in the ir>echanical arts, 
 limit the application of general principles, remain in- 
 variably the fame from age to age : and whatever 
 obfervations we have made on them in the ccmrfe of 
 our paft experience, lay a fure foundation for future 
 practical ikill ; and fupply, in fo far as they reach, 
 the defecfts of our theories. In the art of govern- 
 ment, however, the pradical difficulties whicTi occur 
 are of a very different nature. They do not prefent 
 to the ftatefman, the fame fteady fubjecl of examin- 
 ation, which the effeds of fridion do to the engi- 
 neer. They arife chiefly from the paffions and o- 
 pinions of men, which are in a (late of perpetual 
 change ; and, therefore, the addrefs which is necef- 
 fary to overcome them, depends lefs on the accura- 
 cy of our obfervations with relpeft to the paft, than 
 on the fagacity of our conjectures with refpect to 
 the future. In the prefent age, more particularly, 
 when the rapid communication, and the univerfal 
 diffufion of knowledge, by means of the prefs, ren- 
 der the lituation of political focieties effentially dif- 
 ferent from what it ever was formerly, and fecure in- 
 fallibly^ againft every accident, the progrefs of hu- 
 man reafon ; we may venture to predid, that they 
 are to be the moft fuccefsful ftatefmen, who, paying 
 all due regard to paft experience, fearch for the rules 
 of their conduct chiefly in the peculiar circumftan- 
 ces of their own times, and in an enlightened an- 
 ticipation of the future hiftory of mankind. 
 
 Ill In the mechanical arts, if, at any time we are 
 at a lofs about the certainty of a particular fact, we 
 have it always in our power to bring it to the teft of 
 
 * Political Discourses^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 213 
 
 experiment. But it is very feldom that we can ob- 
 tain in this way any ufeful conclufion in politics : 
 not only becaufe it is difficult to find two cales in 
 which the combinations of circumftances are precife- 
 ly the fame, but becaufe our acquaintance with the 
 political experience of mankind is much more im- 
 perfecl than is commonly imagined. By far the 
 greater part of what is called matter of fact in poli- 
 tics, is nothing elfe than theory ; and, very frequent- 
 ly, in this fcience, when we think we are oppofing 
 experience to fpeculation, we are only oppofing one 
 theory to another. 
 
 To be fatisfied with the truth of this obfervation, 
 it is almoft fufficient to recoiled how extremely dif- 
 ficult it is to convey, by a general defcription, a juft 
 idea of the actual ftate of any government. That 
 every fuch defcription muft neceifarily be more or 
 lefs theoretical, will appear from the following re» 
 marks. 
 
 1. Of the governments which have hitherto ap- 
 peared in the hiftory of mankind, few or none have 
 taken their rife from political wifdom, but have been 
 the gradual refult of time and experience, of circum- 
 ftances and emergencies. In procefs of time, indeed, 
 every government acquires a fyfl:ematical appear- 
 ance : for although its different parts arofe from cir- 
 cumftances which may be regarded as accidental and 
 irregular ; yet there muft exift, among thefe parts, 
 a certain degree of confiftency and analogy. Where- 
 ever a government has exifted for ages, and men 
 have enjoyed tranquillity under it, it is a proof that 
 its principles are not eifentially at variance with 
 each other. Every new inftitution which was intro- 
 duced, muft have had a certain rererence'to the laws 
 and ufagcs exifting before, otherwife it could not 
 have been permanent in its operation. If any one, 
 contrary to the fpirit of the reft, fhould have occa- 
 fionally mingled with them, it muft foon have fallen 
 
S14 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 inty defuetude and oblivion ; and thofe alone would 
 remain, which accorded in their general tendency, 
 *' Quas ufu obtinuere,*' fays Lord Bacon, " li non 
 *' bona, at faltem apta inter fe funt." 
 
 The neceflity of ftudying particular conftitutions 
 of government, by the help of fyftematical defcrip- 
 tions of them,(fuch defcriptions, for example, as are 
 given of that of England by Montefquieu and Black- 
 Hone,) arifes from the fame circumftances, which 
 render it expedient, in moil inftances, to ftudy par- 
 ticular languages, by conlulting the writings of 
 grammarians. In both cafes, the knowledge we 
 wifli to acquire, comprehends an infinite number of 
 particulars, the confideration of which, in detail, 
 would diftracfl the attention, and overload the mem- 
 ory. The fyftematical defcriptions of politicians, 
 like the general rules of grammarians, are in a high 
 degree ufeful, for arranging, and Amplifying, the ob- 
 jeds of our ftudy ; but in both cafes, we muft re- 
 member, that the knowledge we acquire in this man- 
 ner, is to be received with great limitations, and 
 that it is no more pollible to convey, in a fyftemati- 
 cal form, a juft and complete idea of a particular go- 
 vernment, than it is to teach a language completely 
 by means of general rules, without any practical af- 
 iiftance from reading or converfation. 
 
 2. The nature and fpirit of a government, as it 
 is actually exertifed at a particular period, cannot 
 always be colled:ed ; perhaps it can feldom be col- 
 leded from an examination of written laws, or of 
 the eftablifhed forms of a conftitution. Thefe may 
 continue the fame for a long courfe of ages, while 
 the government may be modified in its exercife, to 
 a great extent, by gradual and undefcribable altera- 
 tions in the ideas, manners, and character, of the 
 people ; or by a change in the relations which dif- 
 ferent orders of the community bear to each other. 
 In every country whatever, befide the eftablilhed 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 215 
 
 laws, the political flate of the people is affe<n:ed by an 
 infinite-variety of circumftances, of which no words 
 can convey a conception, and which are to be colledl- 
 ed only from a<5tual obfervation. Even in this way, 
 it is not eafy for a perfon who has received his edu- 
 cation in one country, to ftudy the government of 
 another ^ on account of the difficulty which he muft 
 neceffarily experience, in entering into the affocia- 
 tions which influence the mind under a different 
 fyftem of manners, and in afcertaining (efpecially 
 upon political fubjedls) the complex ideas conveyed 
 by a foreign language. 
 
 In confequence of the caufes which have now been 
 mentioned, it lometimes happens, that there are ef- 
 fential circumftances in the adual ftate of a govern- 
 ment, about which the conftitutional laws are not 
 only filent, but which are diredly contrary to all the 
 written laws, and to the fpirit of the conlUtution 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 caufes, than in 
 the latter ; and, of confequence, it rarely happens, 
 even when we have an opportunity of feeing a polit- 
 ical experiment made, that we can draw from it any 
 certain inference, with refped tothejuftnefs of the 
 principles by which it was fuggefted. In thofe com- 
 plicated machines, to which the flruclure of civil fo- 
 ciety has been frequently compared, as all the differ- 
 ent parts of which they are compofed are fubjecled 
 to phyfical laws, the errors of the artift muft necefla- 
 rily become apparent in the laft refult ; but in the 
 political fyftem, as well as in the animal body, where 
 the general conftitution is found and healthy, there 
 is a fort of vis medicatrix, which is fufficient for the 
 cure of partial diforders ; and in the one cafe, as well 
 as in the other, the errors of human art are frequent- 
 ly correded and concealed by the wifdom of nature. 
 
216 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Among the many falfe eftimates which we daily 
 make of human ability, there is perhaps none more 
 groundlels than the exaggerated conceptions we are 
 apt to form of that fpecies of political wifdom which is 
 fuppofed to be the fruit of long experience and of 
 profelTional habits. " Go ;" (faid the chancellor 
 Oxeniliern to his fon, when he was fending him to 
 a congrefs of ambafHidors, and when the young man 
 was expreffing his diffidence of his own abilities for 
 fuch an employment ;) " Go, and fee with your 
 *' own eyes, Ouam parva fapieniia regitur mundus /" 
 The truth is, (however paradoxical the remark may 
 appear at firft view,) that the fpeculative errors of 
 ftatefmen are frequently lefs fenfible in their efFecls, 
 and, of confequence, more likely to efcape without 
 detection, than thole of individuals who occupy in- 
 ferior ftations in fociety. The efFecls of mifcondudt 
 in private life, are e^fily traced to their proper 
 fource, and therefore the world is feldom far wrong 
 in the judgments which it forms of the prudence or 
 of the imprudence of private characters. But in 
 confidering the affairs of a great nation, it is fo diffi- 
 cult to trace events to their proper caufes, and to 
 diftinguifti the effeds of political wifdom, from thofe 
 whch are the natural refult of the fituation of the 
 people, that it is fcarcely poffible, excepting in the 
 cafe of a very long adminiflration, to appreciate the 
 talents of a ttatefman from the fuccefs or the failure 
 of his meafures. In every fociety, too, which, in 
 confequence of the general fpirit of its government, 
 enjoys the bleffings of tranquillity and liberty, a great 
 part of the political order which we are apt to afcribe 
 to legiflative fagacity, is the natural refult of the 
 felfifh purfuits of individuals ; nay, in every fuch 
 fociety, (as I already hinted,) the natural tendency 
 to improvement is lo ftrong, as to overcome mr-ny 
 powerful obftacles, which the imperfection of hu- 
 man inititutions oppofes to its progrefs. 
 
OF THE I-rUMAN MIND.. 21? 
 
 " From thefe remarks, it feems to follow, that, altho' 
 in the mechanical aits, the errors of theory may 
 freqtiently be corrected by repeated trials, without 
 having recourfe to general principles ; yet, in the 
 machine of government, there is fo great a variety 
 of powers at work, befide the influence of the ftates- 
 man, that it is vain to expect the art of legiilation 
 ftiould be carried to its greatell pofiible perfedion 
 by experience alone. 
 
 Still, however, it may be faid, that in the mofi: 
 imperfect governments of modern Europe, we have 
 an experimental proof, that they fecure, to a very 
 great degree, the principal objects of the focial union. 
 Why hazard thefe certain advantag s, for the un- 
 certain effedts of changes, fuggefted by mere theory ; 
 and not reft fati^>fied with a meafure of political hap- 
 pinefs, which appears, from the hiftory of the world, 
 to be greater than has commonly fallen to the lot 
 of nations ? 
 
 With thofe who would carry their zeal againft re- 
 formation fo far, it is in^poflible to argue ; and it 
 only remains for us to regret, that the number of 
 fuch reafoners has, in all ages of the world, been fo 
 great, and their influence on human affairs fo exten- 
 five. j:: 
 
 " There are fome men,'* (fays Dr. Johnfon,) of 
 " narrow views, and grovelling conceptions, who, 
 " without the inftigation of perfonal malice, treat 
 *' every new attempt as wild and chimerical 4 and 
 " look upon every endeavor to depart from the 
 " beaten traft, as the rafli effort of a warm imagin- 
 " ation, or the glittering fpeculation of an exalted 
 " mind, that may pleafe and dazzle for a time, but 
 " can produce no real or lafting advantage. 
 
 " Thefe men value themfelves upon a perpetual 
 
 " fcepticifm ; upon beUeving nothing bur their own 
 
 *' fenfes ; upon calling for demonftration where it 
 
 ** cannot pofTibly be obtained ; and, iometimes, 
 
 Dd 
 
215 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " upon holding out againfl it when it is laid before 
 *' them ; upon inventing arguments againft the fuc- 
 " cefs of any new undertaking ; and, where argu- 
 " ments cannot be found, upon treating it with con- 
 *'' tempt and ridicule. 
 
 " Such have been the mofl formidable enemies of 
 " the great benefactors of the world ; for their no- 
 "^ tions and discourfe are fo agreeable to the lazy, 
 " the envious, and the timorous, that they feldom 
 " fail oi becoming popular, and directing the opin- 
 " ions of mankind."* 
 
 With refpe6i: to this fceptical dispofition, as appli- 
 cable to the prefent ftate of fociety, it is of impor- 
 tance to add, that, in every government, the ftabili- 
 ty and the influence of eftabliftied authority, muft 
 depend on the coincidence between its meafures and 
 the tide of public opinion ; and that, in modern Eu- 
 rope, in confequence of the invention of printing, 
 and the liberty of the prefs, public opinion has ac- 
 quired an afcendant in human affairs, which it never 
 poffeffed in thofe ftates of antiquity from which mod 
 of our political examples are drawn. The danger, 
 indeed, of fudden and rafli innovations cannot be too 
 ftrongly inculcated ; and the views of thofe men who 
 are forward to promote them, cannot be reprobated 
 with too great feverity. But it is poflible alfo to fall 
 into the oppofite extreme ; and to bring upon focie- 
 ty the very evils we are anxious to prevent, by an 
 obftinate oppofition to thofe gradual and neceiTary 
 reformations which the genius of the times demands. 
 The violent revolutions which, at different periods, 
 have convulfed modern Europe, have arifen, not 
 from afpirit of innovation in fovereigns and flates- 
 men ; but from their bigotted attachment to antiqua- 
 ted forms, and to principles borrowed from lels en- 
 lihtened ages. It is this reverence for abufes which 
 
 * Life of Drake, by Dr. Johksok. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 21^ 
 
 liave been fanclioned by time, accompanied with an 
 inattention to the progrefs of public opinion, which 
 has, in moft inftances, blinded the rulers of manking, 
 till government has loft all its efficiency ; and till the 
 rage of innovation has become too general and too 
 violent, to be fatislied wih changes, which, if propof- 
 ed at an earlier period, would have united, in the 
 fupport of eftablifhed inftitutions, every friend to 
 order, and to the profperity of his country. 
 
 Thefe obfervations I ftate with a greater confi- 
 dence, that thefubllanceof them is contained in the 
 following aphorifms of Lord Bacon ; a philofopher 
 who (if we except, perhaps, the late Mr. Turgot) 
 feems, more than any other, to have formed enlight- 
 ened views with refpedl to the poffible attainments 
 of mankind ; and whofe fame cannot fail to increafe 
 as the world grows older, by being attached, not to 
 a particular fyftem of variable opinions, but to the 
 general and infallible progrefs of human reafon, 
 
 " Quis novator tempus imitatur, quod novationes 
 *' ita inlinuat, ut fenfus fallant ? 
 
 " Novator maximus tempus ; quidni igitur tem- 
 •' pus imitemur ? 
 
 " Morofa morum retentio, res turbulenta eft,3eque 
 *' ac novitas. 
 
 " Cum per fe res, mutentur in deterius, fi confilio 
 "in melius non mutentur, quis tinis erit mali ?" 
 
 The general conclufion to which thefe obferva- 
 tions lead, is fufficiently obvious ; that the perfeclion 
 of political wifdom does not confift in an indifcrimi- 
 nate zeal againft reforms, but in a gradu:il ard pru- 
 dent accommodation of eftabliOied inftitutions to the 
 varying opinions, manners, and circumltances of 
 mankind. In the actual application, however, of 
 this principle, many difficulties occur, which it re- 
 quires a very rare combination of talents to fur- 
 mount : more particularly in the prefent age ; when 
 the prefs has, to ib wonderful a degree, emancipated 
 
^20 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 human reafon from the tyranny of antient prejudi- 
 ces ; and has roufed a fpirit of free difcuflion, unex- 
 ampled in the hiftory of former times. 
 
 1 hat this fudden change in the ftate of the world, 
 fliould be accompanied with fome tempcTary difor- 
 ders, is by no means furprifing. While the multi- 
 tude continue imperfectly enlightened, they will be 
 occafionaliy mifled by the artifices of demagogues ; 
 and even good men, intoxicated with ideas of theo- 
 retical perfection, may be expected, fon etimes to 
 facrifice, unintentionally, the tranquillity of their 
 coremporaries, to an over-ardent zeal for the g( od 
 of pofterity. Notwithllanding, however, thefe evils, 
 which every friend to hun^anity muft lament, I. 
 would willingly believe, that the final effects refult- 
 ing from this fpirit of reformation, cannot fail to be 
 favourable to human happinefs ; and there are fome 
 peculiarities in the prefent condition of mankind, 
 which appear to me to juftify more fanguine hopes 
 upon the fubject, than it would have been reafona- 
 ble for a philofopher to indulge at any former period. 
 An attention to thefe peculiarities is abfoiurely ne- 
 ceffary to enable us to form a coiT»petent judgment 
 on the queilion to which the foregoing obfervations 
 relate ; and it leads to the illuftration of a doctrine to 
 which I have frequently referred in this work ; the 
 gradual improvement in the condition of thefpecies^ 
 which may be expected from the progrefs of reafon 
 and the diffufion of knowledge. 
 
 Among the many circumitances favorable to hu- 
 man happinefs in the prefent ftate of the world, the 
 moft important perhaps, is, that the fame events 
 which have contributed to loofen the foundations of 
 the ancient fabrics of defpotifm, have made it prac- 
 ticable in a much greater degree than it ever was 
 formerly, to reduce the principles of.legiflation to a 
 fcience, and to anticipate the probable courfe of pop- 
 ular opinions. It is ealy for the ftatefman to form 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 22) 
 
 to himfelf adiftinct and fteady idea of the ultimate 
 objects at which a wife legillitor oupjht to aim, and 
 to fbrefee that modification of the foci il order, to 
 which human affairs have, of then^felves, a tendency 
 to approach ; and, therefore, his praclical fa,L>; tcity 
 and addrefs are limited to the c ire of accompiifhing 
 the important ends which he has in view, as effv:ctu- 
 ally and as rapidly as is confident with the quct of 
 individuals, and with the rights arifing from actual 
 efl:abliihments. 
 
 In order to lay a folid foundation for the fcience 
 of politics, the firft fi:ep ought to be, to ^.fcertain that 
 form of fociety which is perfectly agreeable to na- 
 ture and to juflice ; and what are the principles of 
 lei^illation neceffary for maintaining it. Nor is the 
 inquiry fo difficult as might at firft be apprehended ; 
 for it might be eafily fhewn, thai the greater part of 
 the political diforders which exit! among mankind, 
 do not arife from a want of fdrefight in politicians, 
 which has rendered their laws too general, but f rum 
 their having trufted too little to the operation of 
 thofe fimple inititutions which nature and juftice 
 recommend ; and, of confequence, that, as fociety ad- 
 vances to its perfection, the number of laws may be 
 expected to diminilh, initead of increafing, and the 
 fcience of legillation to be gradually fiiijpiified. 
 
 The CEconomical fyftem which, about thirty years 
 ago, employed the fpeculations of fome ingenious 
 men in France, feems to me to have been the firft at- 
 tempt to afcertain this ideal perfection of the focial 
 order ; an J the light which, fince that period, has 
 been thrown on the fubje6t, in different parts of Eu- 
 rope, is a proof of what the human mii^d is able to 
 accomplifh in fuch inquiries, when it jias once re- 
 ceived a proper direction. To all the various tenets 
 of theie writers, I would, by no means, be under- 
 ftood to fubfcribe ; nor do I confider their fylfem 
 as fo perfect in every different part, as fome of its 
 
^2^ ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 more fanguine admirers have reprefented it to be. 
 A few of the moft important principles of political 
 ^economy, they have undoubtedly eibibliftied with 
 demonftrative evidence ; but what the world is 
 chiefly indebted to them for, is, the commencement 
 which they have given to a new branch of fcience, 
 and the plan of inveftigation which they have ex- 
 hibited to their fuccelTors. A fhort account of what 
 I conceive to be the fcope of their fpeculations, will 
 juliify theie remarks, and will comprehend every 
 thing w^hich I have to ofFer at prefent, in anfwer to 
 the queftion by which they were fuggelled. Such 
 an account I attempt with the greater fatisfa£fion, 
 that the leading views of the earlieft and moft en- 
 lightened patrons of the ceconomical fyftem have, in 
 my opinion, been not more mifreprefcnted by its op- 
 ponents, than mifapprehended by fome who have 
 adopted its concluhons,* 
 
 In the firit place, then, I think it of importance to 
 remark, that the objecl of the ceconomical fyftem 
 ought by no means to be confounded (as I believe 
 it commonly is in this country) with that of the U- 
 topian plans of government, which have, at different 
 times, been offered to the world ; and which have 
 fo often excited the juft ridicule of the more fober 
 and reafonable inquirers. Of thefe plans, by far the 
 greater ilumber proceed on the fuppofition, that 
 the focial order is entirely the effocl of human art ; 
 and that wherever this order is imperted, the evil 
 may be traced to fome wMut of forefight on the part 
 of the legiflitor ; or to fome inattention of the ma- 
 giftrate to the compHcated ftrudure of that machine 
 of which h^ '^regulates the movements. The pro- 
 jects of reform, therefore, which fuch plans involve, 
 are, in genefal, well entitled to all the ridicule and 
 contempt they have met with ; inafmuch as they 
 
 * See Note [N.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 22S 
 
 imply an arrogant and prefumptuous belief in their 
 authors, of the fuperiority of their own political fa- 
 gacity, to the accumulated wifdom of former ages. 
 The cafe is very different with the ceconomical fyf- 
 tem ; of which the leading views (fo far as I am able 
 to judge) proceed on the two following fuppofi- 
 tions : Firft, that the focial order is, in the moll ef- 
 fential refpects, the refult of the wifdom of nature, 
 and not of human contrivance ; and, therefore, that 
 the proper bufinefs of the pohtician, is not to divide 
 his attention among all the different parts of a ma- 
 chine, which is by far too complicated for his com- 
 prehenfion ; but by proteding the rights of individ- 
 uals, and by allowing to each, as complete a liberty 
 as is compatible with the perfed: fecurity of the rights 
 of his fellow-citizens ; to remove every obftacle 
 which the prejudices and vices of men have oppof- 
 ed to the eftablifhment of that order which fociety 
 has a tendency tg afiume. Secondly ; that, in pro- 
 portion to the progrefs and the diffuiion of knowl- 
 edge, thofe prejudices, on a Ikilful management of 
 which, all the old fyftems of policy proceeded, muft 
 gradually difappear ; and, confequently, that (what- 
 ever may be his prediledlion for ancient ufages) the 
 inevitable courfe of events impofes on the politician 
 the neceflity of forming his meafures on more folid 
 and permanent principles, than thofe by which the 
 w^orld has hitherto been governed. Both of thefe 
 fuppofitions are of modern origin. The former, fo 
 far as I know, was firil Hated and illuftrated by the 
 French CEconomifts. The latter has been obviouily 
 fuggefted by that rapid improvement which has ac- 
 tually taken place in every country in Europe where 
 the prefs has enjoyed a moderate degree of liberty. 
 
 It may be farther remarked, with refpect to the 
 greater part of the plans propofed by Utopian pro- 
 jectors, that they proceed on the fuppf)^ition of x 
 miraculous reformation in the moral character of a. 
 
224 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 people^ to be efledicd by fome new fyftem of educa- 
 tion. All fuch plans (as Mr. HuniC has judly obfer- 
 ved) may be fafely abandoned as imprad:icable and 
 vifionary. But this objedion does not app^y to the 
 ceconomical fyftern ; the chief expedieni of which, 
 for promoting moral improvement, is not that edu- 
 cation which depends on the attention and care of 
 our inflruclors ; but an education which necelTariiy 
 refults from tlie political order of fociety. " How 
 " ineffeclual" (faid the Roman poet) " are the wif- 
 " eft laws, if they be not fupported by good morals!" 
 How ineffeclual ffay the CEconomifts) are all our ef- 
 forts to preferve the morals of a people, if the laws 
 which regulate the political order, doom the one half 
 of mankind to indigence, to fraud, to fervility, to 
 ignorance, tofuperftition ; and the other half to be 
 the Haves of all the follies and vices which relult from 
 the infolence of rank, and the felfiilinefs of opu- 
 lence ? Suppofe for a moment, th»it the inordinate 
 accumulation of wealth in the hands of individuals, 
 which we every w^here meet with in modern Eu- 
 rope, w^ere gradually dimirifhcd by abolifhing the 
 law of entails, and by eftabiifhing a perfecfl freedom 
 of commerce and ot induftrv ; it is almoft felf evi- 
 dent, that thib fimple alteration in the order of loci- 
 ety ; an alteration which has been often demonftra- 
 ted to be the moft effedual and the moft infallible 
 meafure for promoting the wealth and population 
 of a country ; would contribute, m.ore than all the 
 labours of moralifts, to fecure the virtue and the hap- 
 pinefs of all the claffes of mankind. It is w'orthy 
 too of remark, that fuch a plan of reformation does 
 not require, for its accomplifliment, any new^ and 
 complicated inftitutions ; and therefore docs not 
 proceed upon any exaggerated conception of the ef- 
 ficacy of human policy. On the contrary, it requires 
 only (like moft of the other expedients propoied by 
 this fyftern) the gradual abolition of thofe arbitrary 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. ^ 2^5 
 
 and unjuft arrangements, by which the order of na- 
 ture is difturbed. 
 
 Another miftaken idea concerning the ceconomi- 
 cal fyftem is, that it is founded entirely upon theory, 
 and unfupported by facts. That this may be the 
 cafe with refped: to fome of its doctrines, I (hall not 
 difpute : but, in general, it may be fafely affirmed, 
 that they reft on a broader baiis ot facls, than any- 
 other fpeculations which have been yet offered to 
 the world ; for they are founded, not on a few ex- 
 amples collected from the fmall number of govern- 
 ments of which we poil'efs an accurate know ledge ; 
 but on thofe laws of human nature, and thofe max- 
 ims of common fenfe, which are daily verified in the 
 intercourfe of private life. 
 
 Of thofe who have fpeculated on the fubjedt of le- 
 giflition, by far the greater part feem to have con- 
 fidered it as a fcience fui getieris ; the firft principles 
 of which can be obtained in no other way, than by 
 an examination of the condu<5t of mankind in their 
 political capacity. The CEconomifts, on the contra- 
 ry, have fearched for the caufes of national profperi- 
 ty, and national improvement, in thofe arrange- 
 ments, which our daily obfervations (hew to be fa- 
 vorable to the profperity and to the improvement 
 of individuals* The form'er refemble thole philofo- 
 phers of antiquity, who, affirming, that the phenom- 
 ena of the heavens are regulated by laws pecuUar to 
 themfelvcs, difcouraged every attempt to invefiigate 
 their phyfical caufes, which was founded upon facts 
 collected from common experience. The latter have 
 aimed at accomplifhing a reformation in pofitics, 
 fimilar to what Kepler and Newton accomplifhed in 
 aftronomy ; and, by fubjeding to that cc^mmon- 
 fenfe, which guides mankind in their private con-- 
 cerns, thofe queftions, of which none were fuppofed 
 to be competent judges, bui men initiated in the 
 myfteries of goveruuieut, have given a beginning to 
 E R 
 
226 ELEMENTS OF THB PHrLOSOPHY 
 
 a fcience which has already extended very widely 
 our political profpecls ; and which, in its progrefs^ 
 may probably aflford an illuflration, not lefs flriking 
 than that which phyfrcal aftronomy exhibits, of the 
 limplicity of thofe laws by which the univerfe is gov- 
 erned. 
 
 When a political writer, in order to expofe the 
 folly of thofe commercial regulations, which aim at 
 the encouragement of domeftic induftry by reftraints 
 on importation, appeals to the maxims upon which 
 men adl in private life ; when he remarks, that the 
 taylor does not attempt to make his own flioes, but 
 buys them of the fhoemaker ; that the flioemaker 
 does not attempt to make his own clothes, but em- 
 ploys a taylor ; and when he concludes, that what is 
 prudence in the conducl: of every private family, can 
 icarcely be folly in that of a great kingdom ;* he 
 may undoubtedly be faid, in one fenfe, to indulge in 
 theory ; as he calls in queftion the utiUty of inilitu- 
 tions which appear, from the fact, to be not incom- 
 patible with a certain degree of political profperity. 
 But, in another fenfe, and in a much more philo- 
 fophical one, he may be faid to oppofe to the falfe 
 theories of ftatefmen, the common fenfe of man- 
 kind ; and thofe maxims of expediency, of which 
 every man may verify the truth by his own daily 
 obfervation. 
 
 There is yet another miftake, (of ftill greater con- 
 fequence, perhaps, than any of thofe I have mention- 
 ed,) which has milled moft of the opponents, and 
 even fome of the friends, of the eeconomical fyftem ; 
 an idea that it was meant to exhibit a political or- 
 der, which is really attainable in the prefent itate of 
 Europe. So different from this were the vii^ws of 
 its moil enlightened advocates, that they have uni- 
 
 * See Mr. Smith's profound and original " Inquiry into theNa- 
 ** ture and Causes of the Wealth of Nations;' 
 
<DF THE HUMAN MIND. 22? 
 
 formly retted their only hopes of its gradual eftab- 
 lifhmeut in the world, on that influence in the con- 
 dud of human affairs, which philofophy may be ex- 
 pe l^ed gradually to acquire, in confequence of the 
 progrefs of reafon and civilization. To fuppofe that 
 a period is ever to arrive, when it fhall be realifed 
 in its full extent, would be the height of erthufiafm 
 and abfurdity ; but it is furely neither eothufiafm 
 nor abfurdity to afSrm, that governments are more 
 or lefs perfect, in proportion to the greater or fmal- 
 ler number of individuals to whom they afford the 
 means of cultivating their intellectual and moral 
 powers, and whom they admit to live together on a 
 liberal footing of equality ; — or even to expect, that, 
 in proportion to the progrefs of reafon, govern- 
 ments will adually approach nearer and nearer to 
 this defcription. 
 
 To delineate that ftate of political fociety to which 
 governments may be expected to approach nearer and 
 nearer as the triumphs of philofophy extend, was, I 
 apprehend, the leading object of the earlieft and 
 moft enlightened patrons of the oeconomical fyftem. 
 It is a Itate of fociety, which tliey by no means in- 
 tended to recommend to particular communities, as 
 the moft eligible they could adopt at prefent ; but 
 as an ideal order of things, to which they have a 
 tendency of themfelves to approach, and to which 
 it ought to be the aim of the legiflator to facilitate 
 their progrefs. In the language of mathematicians, 
 it forms a limit to the progrcflive improvement of the 
 political order ; and, in the mean time, it exhibits a 
 ftandard of comparifon, by wliich the excellence of 
 particular inftitutions may be eftimated. 
 
 According to the view which has now been giv- 
 en of the oeconomical fyftem, its principles appear 
 highly favorable to the tranquillity of fociety ; inaf- 
 much as, by infpiring us with a confidence in the 
 triumph which truth and liberty muft infallibly 
 
228 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 gain in the end over error and injuftice, it has a ten- 
 dency to difcourage every plan of innovation which 
 is to be fupported by violence and bloodfhed. And, 
 accordingly, fuch has always been the language of 
 thofe who were bed acquainted with the views of 
 its authors. '' If we attack opprelTors, before we have 
 *' taught the opprefTed/' (fays one of the ableft of 
 its prefent fupporters,*) " we fhall rifk the lofs of 
 *' liberty, and roufe them to oppc^fe the progrefs of 
 '' reafon. Hiftnry affords proofs of this trut h. How 
 *' often, in fpite of the efforts of the friends of free- 
 '' dom, has the event of a fingle battle reduced na- 
 *' tions to the flavery of ages ! 
 
 " And what is the kind of liberty enjoyed by 
 " thofe nations, which have recovered it by force of 
 *' arms, and not by the intluence of philofophy ? 
 " Have not moft of them coi founded the forms of 
 *' republicanifm with the enjoy u ent of right, and 
 " the defpotifm of numbers with liberty ? How ma- 
 " ny laws, contrary to the rights of nature, have 
 *' difhonored the code of every people which has re- 
 *' covered its freedom, during thofe ages in which 
 " reafon was flill in its infancy 1" 
 
 " Why not profit by this fatal experience, and 
 ^^ wifely wait the progrefs of knowledge, in order 
 " to obtain freedom more effe<^ual, more fubllantial, 
 " and more peaceful ? Why purfue it by blood and 
 " inevitable confufion, and truii that to chance, 
 " which time muft certainly, and without blood- 
 *' fhed, beftow ? A fortunate iiruggle may, indeed, 
 " relieve us of many grievances under which we 
 " labour at prefent, but if we wifli to fecure the per- 
 " fediion, and the permanence of freedom, we muft 
 " patiently wait the period when men, emancipated 
 ^' from their prejudices, and guided by philofophy, 
 
 * M. Condorcet. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 229 
 
 " (tnll be rendered worthy of liberty, by compre- 
 " hending its claims."* 
 
 Nor is -it the employment of violent and fanguina- 
 ry means alone, in order to accompiilh poUtii^l in- 
 novations, that this enlightened and humane philofo- 
 phy has a tendency to difcourage. By extending 
 our views to the whole plan of civil lodety, and 
 fhewing us the mutual relations and dependencies of 
 its moft diftant parts, it cannot fail to check that in- 
 difcriminate zeal againft eftablifhed inlti utions, 
 which arifes from partial views of the focial fyftem ; 
 as well as to produce a certain degree of fee; ticifm 
 with refped: to every change, the fuccefs of which is 
 not infured by the prevailing ideas and manners of 
 the age. Sanguine and inconlider ate projeclb of re- 
 formation are frequently the offspring of clear and 
 argumentative and fyftematical underftandings ; but 
 rarely of comprehenfive minds. For checking them, 
 indeed, nothing is fo effectual, as a general lurvey of 
 the complicated flrucfure of fociety. Even although 
 fuch a furvey fhould oe fuperficial, provided it be 
 conducted on an extenfive fcale, it is more uieful, at 
 lead, for this purpofe, than the moft minute and 
 fuccefsful inquiries, which are circumfcribed within 
 a narrow circle. If it fliould teach us nothing elfe, 
 it will at leaft fatisfy us of the extreme difficulty of 
 predicting, with confidence, the remote eflldts of 
 new arrangements ; and that the perfection of polit- 
 ical wifdom confifts not in incumbering the machine 
 of governments with new contrivances to obviate 
 
 *To some of my readers it may appear trifling to remark, 
 that, in availing myself of an occasional coinc idcnce of ^en- 
 timeijt wiih a cotemporary Aathor, I would not Oe under- 
 stood to become responsible f )r the consistency of his per- 
 sonal conduct with his philosf)phical principles, nor to sub- 
 scribe to any one of his opinions, but thise to which I 
 have expressed my assent In incorporating: them with my 
 own composition, [A^ate to second Edilion.^ 
 
230 ELEMENTS OF TAE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 every partial inconvenience, but in removing grad- 
 ually, and innperceptibly, the obftacles which tiifturb 
 the order of nature, and (as Mr. Adciilon lonnewhere 
 exprefles it) " in grafting upon her inftitufions." 
 
 When the ceconon)ical fyftem, indeed, is firft pre- 
 fented to the mind, and when we compare the per- 
 fection which it exhibits, with the aclu;il ftate of hu- 
 man affairs, it is by no means unnatural, that it 
 fliould fuggefl plans of reformation too violent and 
 fuJden to be practicable. A more complete ac- 
 quaintance, however, with the fubjed, will efFeclu- 
 ally cure thefe iirfl impreilions, by pointing out to 
 us the miichieFs to be apprehended from an injudi- 
 cious combination of theoretical perfection with our 
 eit ibiifhed laws, prejudices, and manners. As the 
 various unnatural modes and habits of living, to 
 which the bodily conflitution is gradually reconciled 
 by 'i courfe of luxurious indulgences, have luch a 
 tendency to correct each other's effects, as to render 
 a partial return to a more (imple regimen, a danger- 
 ous, and, fometimes, a fatal experiment ; fo it is pof- 
 fible, that many of our imperfect political inflitutions 
 may be fo accommodated to each other, that a par- 
 tial execution of the moft plaufible and equitable 
 plans of reformation, might tend, in the firft initance, 
 to fruftrate thofe important purpofes which we are 
 anxious to promote, lo it not poflibie, for example, 
 that the influence which is founded on a reipe<5t for 
 hereditary rank, may have iis ufe in counteracting 
 that ariftocracy which arifes from inequality of 
 wealth ; and which fo many laws and prejudices 
 confpire to fupport ? That the former fpecies of in- 
 fluence is rapidly declining of itfeif, in confequence 
 of the progrefs which commerce and philofophy have 
 already made, is fufficiently obvious ; and, 1 think, 
 it may reafonably be doubted, whether a well wifher 
 to mankind would be difpofed to accelerate its def- 
 trudion, till the true principles of political oeconomy 
 
Of THE HUMAN MIND. Si^f 
 
 are completely underftood and acknowledged by 
 the world. 
 
 Various other examples might be produced, to \U 
 luftrate the dangers to be apprehended from the 
 partial influence of general principles in politics ; or, 
 in other words, from an exclufive attention to par- 
 ticular circumftances in the political order, without 
 comprehenfive views of the fubject. It is only upon 
 a limited mind, therefore, that fuch ftudies will pro- 
 duce a paffion for violent innovations. In more 
 comprehenfive and enlightened underftandings, their 
 natural efFed is caution and diffidence with refpecl 
 to the illue of every experiment, of which we do not 
 perceive diftincWy all the remote confequences. 
 Nor is this caution at all inconfiftent with a firm con- 
 fidence in the certainty of that triumph which truth 
 and liberty muft infallibly gain in the end over error 
 and injuftice. On the contrary, it is a natural and 
 obvious confequence of fuch a conviction ; inasmuch 
 as the fame arguments on which this convidii^m is 
 founded, prove to us, that the progrefs of mankind 
 towards the perfedion of the focial order, muft ne- 
 ceflarily, in every caufe, be gradual ; and that it 
 muft be diverfified in the courfe it takes, according 
 to the fituations and charaders of nations. To di- 
 redi, and, as far as poilible, to accelerate, this pro- 
 grefs, ought to be the great aim of the enlightened 
 liatefman, and, indeed, of every man who wiflies 
 well to his fpecies ; but it is neceflary for him al- 
 ways to remember, that confiderable alterations in 
 the eftablifhed order, are very feldom to be affected 
 immediately and diredly by political regulations ; 
 and that they are, in all cafes, moft fucce(stul and 
 moft permanent, when they are accompiifhed grad- 
 ually by natural caufes, freed horn thofe reftraints 
 "wh^ch had formerly checked their operation. In 
 the governments, indeed, of modern Europe, it is 
 much more neceflary to abolifh oldinftitutions, thaa 
 
2S2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 to introduce new ones ; and if this reformation be 
 kept lleadily in view, and not puUied farther at any 
 time than circumftances render expedient, or the 
 ideas of the times recommend, the eflential princi- 
 ples of a more perfect order of things, will gradual- 
 ly eftablilh themifelves, without any convulfion. 
 
 According to this view of the fubjcd, the fpecu- 
 lation concerning the perfe6t order of fociety, is to 
 be regarded merely as a defcription of the ultimate 
 objeds at which the ftatesman ought to aim. The 
 tranquiiiity of his adminiftration, and the immediate 
 fuccels of his m.eafures, depend on his good fenfe, and 
 his practical fkill. And his theoretical principles on- 
 ly enable him to direct his meafures fteadily and 
 wifely, to promote the improvement and happinefs 
 of mankind ; and prevent hiwi from being ever led 
 allray from thefe important objects, by more linated 
 views of temporary expedience.* 
 
 * The foregoing observations on the general aim of the 
 CEconomical System refer solely (as must appear evident 
 to those who have peniscd them with attention) to the doc- 
 trines it contains on the article of Political Economy, The 
 Theory of Government which it inculcates, is of the most 
 dangerous tendency ; recommending, in strong and unqual- 
 ified terras, ao unmixed despotism ; and reprobating all 
 constitutional checks on the sovereign authority. Many 
 English writers, indeed, with an almost incredible ignor- 
 ance of the works which they have presumed to censure, 
 have spoken of them, as if they encouraged political princi- 
 ples of a very difierent complexion ; but the truth is, that 
 the dibciples of ^uesnai (without a single exception) car- 
 ried their zeal for the pnwer ol the monarch, and what 
 they called the Unity of Legislation^ to so extravagant a 
 length, as to treat with contempt, those mixed establish- 
 ments which allow any share whatever of legislative influ- 
 ence to the representatives of the people. On the one hand, 
 the evidence of this system appeared to its partisans sa 
 complete and irresistible, that they flattered tbemhclves 
 monarchs would soon see wiih an itKuitive conviction, the 
 identity of their own interests with those of the nations ihey 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 233 
 
 Before cloflng this difquifition, it may be proper 
 for me to attempt to obviate a little more fully than 
 I have done, an objecllon which has been frequently 
 drawn from the pail experience of mankind, againil 
 that fuppofition of their progrellive improvement, 
 on which all the foregoing reafonings proceed. 
 How mournful are the vicillitudes which hillory ex- 
 hibits to us, in the courfe of human affairs ; and how 
 little foundation do they afford to our fanguine prof- 
 pects concerning futurity ! If, in thofe parts of the 
 earth which were formerly inhabited by barbarians, 
 we now fee the moft fplendid exertions of genius, 
 and the happiell forms of civil policy, we behold 
 others which, in antient times, were the feats of 
 
 are called to govern ; and, on the other hand, they conten- 
 ded, that it is only under the strong and steady government 
 of a race of hereditary princes, undistracted by the prejudi- 
 ces and local interests which warp the deliberations of 
 popular assemblies, that a gi adual and systematical approach 
 can be nrjade to the perfection of law and policy. '1 he ve- 
 ry first of ^ut\sfia2''s maxims states, as a fundamental prin- 
 ciple, that the sovereign authority, utiresirained by any 
 constitutional checks or balances, should be lodged in the- 
 hands of a single person ; and the same doctrine is main- 
 tained zealously by all his followers ; — by none of them 
 more explicitly than by Mercier de la Riviere^ whose trea- 
 tise on *' the natural and essential f>rder oF political socie- 
 ties," might have been expected to attract some roticc in 
 this country, from the praise which iMr. Smith has bestow- 
 ed on the perspicuity of his style, and the dislirctness ot his 
 arrangement. 
 
 If some individuals who formerly professed an enthusi- 
 astic attachment to the doctrines of this sect, have, at a later 
 period of their lives, distinguished themselves bv an enthu- 
 siasm no less ardent in opposition to the principles advan- 
 ced in their writings, the fact only aflcrds an additional il- 
 lustration of a trmh 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 trans- 
 itions is from the violence and intolerance of one extreme 
 to those of another. \Note to ftecQ7id Edition,] 
 
 Ff 
 
^34 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fcience, of civilization, and of liberty, at prefent inn. 
 merfed in fuperftition, and laid wafte by defpolifm. 
 After a fhort period of civil, of military, and of 
 literary glory, the profpe6l has changed at once : 
 the career of degeneracy has begun, and has proceed- 
 ed till it could advance no farther ; or fome unfore- 
 feen calamity has occurred, which has obliterated, 
 for a time, all memory of former improvements, 
 and has condemned mankind to re-trace, flep by 
 ftep, the fame path by which their forefathers had 
 rifen to great nefs. In a word ; on fuch a retrofpecl- 
 ive view of humaan aflfairs, man appears to be the 
 mere fport of fortune and of accident ; or rather, 
 he appears to be doom.ed, by the condition of his 
 nature, to run alternately the career of improvement 
 and of degeneracy ; and to realife the beautiful but 
 melancholy fable of Sifyphus, by an eternal renova- 
 tion of hope and of difappointment. 
 
 In oppofition to thefe difcouraging views of the 
 Hate and profpecl of man ; it may be remarked in 
 general, that in the courfe of thele latter ages, a va- 
 riety of events have happened in the hiftory of the 
 world, w^hich render the condition of the human 
 race effentially different from what it ever was 
 among the nations of antiquity ; and which, of con- 
 fequence, render all our reafbnings concerning their 
 future fortunes, in fo far as they are founded mere- 
 ly on their paft experience, unphilofophical and in- 
 conclulive. The alterations which have taken place 
 in the art of war, in confequence of the invention of 
 firearms, and 'of the modern fcience of fortification, 
 have given to civilized nations a fecurity againft the 
 irruptions of barbarians, which they never before 
 pijfieiTed. The more extended, and the more con- 
 ftant intercourfe, v^hich the improvements in com- 
 merce and in the art of navigation have opened, 
 among the diftant quarters of the globe, cannot fail 
 to operate in undermining local and national preju- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 2S5 
 
 dices, and in imparting to the whole fpecies the in- 
 telleclual acquifitions of each particular community. 
 The accumulated experience of ages has already- 
 taught the rulers of mankind, that the moil fruitful 
 and the moft permanent fources of revenue, are to be 
 derived, not from conquered and tributary provin- 
 ces, but from the internal profperity and wealth of 
 their own fubje<fls : — and the fame experience now 
 begins to teach nations, that the increafe of their own 
 wealth, fo far from depending on the poverty and 
 deprellion of their neighbors, is intimately connect- 
 ed with their induftry and opulence ; and confe- 
 quently, that thofe commercial jealoufies, which 
 have hitherto been fo fertile a fource of animofity 
 among different ftates, are founded entirely on 
 ignorance and prejudice. Among all the circum- 
 ftances, however, which diftinguifli the prefent ftate 
 of mankind from that of antient nations, the inven- 
 tion of printing is by far the moft important ; and, 
 indeed, this fingle event, independently of every oth- 
 er, is fufficient to change the whole courfe of human 
 affairs. 
 
 The influence which printing is likely to have on 
 the future hiftory of the world, has not, T think, 
 been hitherto examined, by philofophers, with the 
 attention which the importance of the fubjed de- 
 ferves. One reafon for this may, probably, have 
 been, that, as the invention has never been made but 
 once, it has been confidered rather as the effect of a 
 fortunate accident, than as the refult of thofe general 
 caufes on which the progrefs of fociety feems to de- 
 pend. But it may be reafonably quclliorod, how 
 far this idea be juft. For, although it fliould be al- 
 lowed, that the invention of printing was accidental, 
 with refpcdt to the individual who made it, it may, 
 with truth, be confidered as the natural refult of a 
 ftate of the world, when a number of great and con- 
 tiguous nations are all engaged in the ftudy of lite- 
 
256 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 rature, in the purfuit of fcience, and In the prafticc 
 of the arts ; infomuch, that I do not think it extra- 
 vagant to affirm, that, if this invention had not been 
 made by the particular perfon to whom it is afcribed, 
 the fame art, or fome analagous art, anfwering a fim- 
 ilar purpofe, would have infallibly been invented by 
 fome other perfon, and at no very diftant period. 
 The art of printing, therefore, is intitled to be con- 
 fidered as a Hep in the natural hiftory of man, no 
 lefs than the art of writing ; and they who are fcep- 
 tical about the future progrefs of the race, merely in 
 confequence of its paft hiftory, reafon as unphilo- 
 fophically, as the member of a favage tribe, who, de- 
 riving his own acquaintance with former times from 
 oral tradition only, fliould effect to call in queftion 
 the efficacy of written records, in accelerating the 
 progrefs ot knowledge and of civilization. 
 
 What will be the particular effi3d:s of this inven- 
 tion, (which has been, hitherto, much checked in its 
 operation, by the reftraints on the liberty of the 
 prefs in the greater part of Europe,) it is beyond the 
 reach of human fagacity to conjedure ; but, in gen- 
 eral, we may venture to predict with confidence, 
 that, in every country, it will gradually operate to 
 widen the circle of fcience and civilization ; to dif- 
 tribute more equally, among all the members of the 
 community, the advantages of the political union j 
 and to enlarge the balls of equitable governments, 
 by increaiing the number of thofe who underfland 
 their value, and are interefted to defend them. The 
 fcience of legiflation, too, with all the other branches 
 of knowledge which are connected with huriBan im- 
 provement, may be expected to advance with rapidi- 
 ty ; and, in proportion as the opinions and inlfitu- 
 tions of men approach to truth and to juftice, they 
 will be iecurea againlf thofe revolutions to which hu- 
 man affairs have always been hitherto fubject. Opinio- 
 num enim commenia delet dies^ naiura judicla confinnaU 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 237 
 
 The revolutions incident to the democratical 
 ftates of antiquity furnifh no folid objeclion to the 
 foregoing obfervadons : for none of thefe ftates en- 
 ji)yed the advantages which modern times derive 
 from the difFufion, and from the rapid circulation of 
 of knowledge. In thefe ftates moft of the revolu- 
 tions which happened, arofe from the ftruggles of 
 demagogues, who employed the pafllons of the mul- 
 titude, in fubferviency to their own intereft and am- 
 bition ; and to all of them, the ingenious and ftrik- 
 ing remark of Hobbes will be found applicable ; 
 that " Democracy is nothing but an ariftocracy of 
 " orators, interrupted fometimes by the tem.porary 
 " monarchy of a fmgle orator.'* While this contin- 
 ued to be the cale, democratical conftitutions were, 
 undoubtedly, the moft unfavorable of any to the 
 tranquillity of mankind ; and the only way to pre- 
 fer ve the order of fociety was, by fkiifully balan- 
 cing againft each other, the prejudices, and the fepa- 
 rate interefts, of different orders of citizens. That 
 fuch balances, however, will every day become lefs 
 neceffary for checking the turbulence of the demo- 
 cratical fpirit in free governments, appears probable 
 from this ; that among the various advantages to be 
 expecled from the liberty of the prcfs, one of the 
 greateft is, the effe€t which it muft neceflarily have 
 in diminilhing the influence of popular eloquence ; 
 both by curing men of thofe prejudices upon which 
 it operates, and by fubje^ting it to the irrefiftible 
 control of enlightened opinions. In the republican 
 ftates of antiquity, the eloquence of demagogues was 
 indeed a dangerous engine of faction, while it afpir- 
 cd to govern nations by its unlimited fway in di- 
 reding popular councils. But, now, when the effu- 
 fions of the orator are, by means of the prefs, lub- 
 jccted to the immediate tribunal of an inquifitivo 
 age, the eloquence of Icgiflative aflemblies is forced 
 to borrow its tone from the fpirit of the times ; and 
 
238 liLIiMENTS or THE PHILOSOPHT 
 
 if it retain its afcendant in human affairs, it can only 
 be, by lending its aid to the prevailing- caufe, and to 
 the permanent interefts of truth and of freedom. 
 
 Of the progrefs which may yet be made in the 
 different branches of moral and political philofophy, 
 we may form fome idea, from what has already hap- 
 pened in phyiics, fmce the time that Lord Bacon 
 united, in one ufefui direction, the labors of thofe 
 who cultivate that fcience. At the period when he 
 wrote, phyfics was certainly in a more hopelefs 
 ilate, than that of moral and political philofophy in 
 the prefent age. A perpetual fucceflion of chimer- 
 ical theories had, till then, amuied the world ; and 
 the prevailing opinion was, that the cafe would con- 
 tinue to be the fame for ever. Why then lliould 
 we defpair of the competency of the human faculties 
 toeftabiiih folid and permanent fyftems, upon other 
 fubjeds, which are of ftiil more ferious importance ? 
 Phyiics, it is true, is free from many difficulties 
 which obilrud our progrefs in moral and poHtical 
 inquiries ; but, perh ^ps, thia advantage may be 
 more than counterbalanced by the tendency they 
 have to engage a m.ore univerfal, and a more ear- 
 ned attention in confequence of their coming home 
 more immediately to our " bufinefs and our bo- 
 foms." When thefe fciences too begin to be profe- 
 cuted on a regular and fyilematical plan, their im- 
 provement will go on with an accelerated velocity 5 
 not only as the number of fpeculative minds will be 
 every day increafed in the diffufion of knowledge, 
 but as an acquaintance with the juft rules of inquiry 
 will more and more place important difcoveries 
 within the reach of ordinary underftandings. "Such 
 " rules," (fays Lord Bacon) " do, in fome fort, e- 
 *' qual men's wits, and leave no great advantage or 
 " pre-eminence to the perfe^' andexceilent motions 
 " of the fpirit. To draw a llraight line,'or to de- 
 ^- fcribe a circle, by aim of hand only, there mufl be 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. Q3^ 
 
 " a great difFerence between an unfleady and an un- 
 " pradifed hand, and a fteady and practiied ; but, to 
 " do it by rule or compafs, it is much alike." 
 
 Nor muft we onut to mention the value which 
 the art of printing communicates to the moft limit- 
 ed exertions of literary induftry, by treafuring them 
 up as materials for the future examination of more 
 enlightened inquirers. In this refpecl the prefs be- 
 llows upon the fciences, an advantage fomewhat a- 
 nalogjus to that which the mechanical arts derive 
 from the divifion of labor. As in thefe arts, the 
 exertions of an uninformed multitude, are united by 
 the comprehenfive ikill of the artift, in the accom- 
 plifhment of effects aftonifhing by their magnitude, 
 and by the complicated ingenuity they difplay ; fo, 
 in the fciences, the obfervations and conjeftures of 
 obfcure individuals on thofe fubjecls which are lev- 
 el to their capacities^ and which fall under their own 
 immediate notice, accumulate for a courfe of years ; 
 till at laft, fotne pliilofopher arifes, who combines 
 thefe fcattered materials, and exhibits, in his fyftem, 
 not merely the force of a fmgle mind, but the intel- 
 lectual power of the age in which he lives. 
 
 It is upon thefe lalt confiderations, much m.ore 
 than on the efforts of original genius, that I would 
 reft my hopes of the progrefs of the race. What 
 genius alone could accompiifli in fcience, the world 
 has already feen : and I am ready to fubfcribe to the 
 opinion of thofe who think, that the fplendor of its 
 paft exertions is not likely to be obfcured by the 
 fame of future philofophers. But the exoeriment 
 yet remains to be tried, what lights may be thrown 
 on the moft iir.portant of all fuhjects, by the free 
 difcullionsof inquifitive nations, unfettered by prej- 
 udice, and ftimulated in their inquiries by every 
 motive thit can awaken whatever is either generous 
 or felfifli in human nature. How trifling are t!ie 
 effeds which the bodily ftrength of an individual is 
 
240 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 able to produce, (however great may be his natural 
 endowments,) when compared with thofe which 
 have been accomplKhed by the confpiring force of an 
 ordinary multitude ? It was not the fmgle arm of a 
 Tliefeus, or a Hercules, but the hands of fuch men as 
 ourfelves, that, in ancient Egypt, raifed thofe mon- 
 uments of architecture, which remain from age to 
 age, to atteft the wonders of combined and of per- 
 fcvering induftry ; and, while they humble the im- 
 portance of the individual, to exalt the dignity, and 
 to animate the labors, of the fpecies. 
 
 Thefe views with refpecl to the probable improve- 
 ment of -the world, are fo conducive to the comfort 
 of thofe who entertain them, that even, althougli 
 they were founded in delufion, a wife man woulci 
 be difpofed to cherifh them. What Ihould have in- 
 duced fome refpedable writers to controvert them, 
 with fo great an afperity of expreilion, it is not eafy 
 to conjecture ; for whatever may be thought of their 
 truth, their practical tendency is furely favorable to 
 human happinefs ; nor can that temper of mind, 
 which difpofes a man to give them a welcome recep- 
 tion, be candidly fufpecled of deligns hoftile to the 
 interefts of humanity. One thing is certain, that 
 the greateft of all obilacles to the improvement of 
 the world, is that prevailing belief of its impropabil- 
 ity, which damps the exertions of fo many individ- 
 uals ; and that, in proportion as the contrary opin- 
 ion becomes general, it reaiifes the event which it 
 leads us to anticipate. Surely, if any thing can have 
 a tendency to cail forth in the public fervice the ex- 
 ertions of individuals, it muft be an idea of the mag- 
 nitude of that work in which they are confpiring, 
 and a belief of the permanence of thofe 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 defpair of the fortunes of the re- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 241 
 
 public ; — fo the good citizen of the world, whatev- 
 er may be the political afped of his own times, will 
 never defpair of the fortunes of the human race ; 
 but will ad upon the conviction, that prejudice, 
 flavery, and corruption, muft gradually give way to 
 truth, liberty, and virtue ; and that, in the moral 
 world, as well as in the material, the farther our ob- 
 fervations extend, and the longer they are continu- 
 ed, the more we (hall perceive of order and of be- 
 ne volent delign in the univerfe. 
 
 Nor is this change in the condition of Man, in 
 confequence of the progrefs of reafon, by any means 
 contrary to the general analogy of his natural hifto- 
 ry. In the infancy of the individual, his exiften e 
 is prefer ved by inftincts, which difappear afterwards, 
 when they are no longer neceffary. In the favage 
 ilate of our fpecies, there are inftind:s which feem to 
 form a part of the human conftitution ; and of which 
 no traces remain in thofe periods of fociety in which 
 their ufe is fuperfeded by a more enlarged experi- 
 ence. Why then fhould we deny the probabiUiy of 
 iomething limilar to this, in the hiftory of mankind 
 confidered in their political capacity ? I have already 
 had occafion to obferve, that the governments which 
 the world has hitherto feen, have feldom \>r never 
 taken their rife from deep-laid fchemes of human 
 policy. In every ftate of fociety which has yet ex- 
 ifted, the multitude has, in general, aded trom the 
 immediate impulfe of paflion, and from the prefTure 
 of their wants and neceffiries ; and, therefore, what 
 we commonly call the political order, is, at leaft in a 
 great meafure, the refult of the paflions and wants of 
 man, combined with the circumftances of his fitua- 
 tion ; or, in other words, it is chiefly the refult of 
 the wiCdom of nature. So beautifully, indeed, do 
 thefe paflions and circumllances a<fl in fublerviency 
 to her deiigns, and fo invariably have they been 
 found, in the hiftory of pall ages, to conduct him 
 Go 
 
!i42 ELEMENTS' OF TKJE I'HILOSOPIIY 
 
 in time to certain beneficial arrangements, that we 
 can hardly bring ourfelves to believe, that tlie end 
 was not forefeen by thoic who. were engaged in the 
 purfuit. Even la thofe rude periods- of fociety, 
 when, like the lower animals, he follows blindly his 
 inftinclive principles of adion, he is led by an invifi- 
 ble hand, and contributes his fhare to the execution 
 of a plan, of the nature and advantages of which he 
 has no conception. The operations of the bee, 
 when it begins, for the firft time, to form its cell^ 
 conveys to us a ftriking image of the efforts of un- 
 enlighrened Man, in conducting the operations of an 
 infant government. 
 
 A great variety of prejudices might be mentioned, 
 which are found to prevail univerfally among our 
 fpecies in certain periods of fociety, and which feem 
 to be effentially neceffary for maintaining its order, 
 in ages when men are unable to comprehend the 
 purpofes for which governments are inftituted. As 
 fociety advances, thefe prejudices gradually lofe their 
 influence on the higher claffes, and would probably 
 foon difappear altogether, if it were not found ex- 
 pedient to prolong, their exiflence, as a fource of au- 
 thority over the multitude. In an age, however^ 
 of univerfal and of unrellrained difcufhon, it is ii 
 poflible that they can long maintain their empire 
 nor ought we to regret their decline, if the imporJ 
 tant ends to which they have been fubfervient ii 
 the pait experience of mankind, are found to be a( 
 comphflied by the growing light of philolbphy. Oi 
 this iuppofition, a hiftory of human prejudices, 
 far as they have fupplied the place of more enlarge< 
 political, views, may, at fome future period, furnisl 
 to the philofopher a fubjeft of fpeculation, no lefri 
 pleafing and inftructive, than that beneficent wifdom 
 of nature, which guides the operations of the lower 
 animals ; and which, even in our own fpecies, takes 
 upon itfelf the care of the individual in the infancy 
 of humao reafon. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIN©. £43 
 
 rhave only to obferve farther, that, in proportion 
 as thefe profpefts, v/ith refpect to the progrefs of 
 reafon, the difFufion of knowledge, and the confe- 
 quent improvement of mankind, fhall be realifed ; 
 the political hiilory of the world will be regulated 
 by fteady and uniform caufes, and the philoiopher 
 will be enabled to form probable conjedures with 
 refped to the future courfe of human affairs. 
 
 It is juftly remarked by Mr. Hume, that " what 
 " depends on a few perfons is, in a great meafure, to 
 *' be afcribed to chance, or fecret and unknown 
 " caufes : what arifes from a great number, may of- 
 *' ten be accounted for by determinate and known 
 *' caufes." " To judge by this rule,*' (he continues,) 
 *' the domeftic and the gradual revolutions of a flate 
 " muft be a more proper objeft of reafoning and ob- 
 " fervation, than the foreign and the violent, which 
 " are commonly produced by fingle perfons, and are 
 "more influenced by whim, folly, or caprice, than 
 *' by general pailions and interefts. The depreflion 
 *' of the Lords, and rife of the Commons, in Eng- 
 *' land, after the flatutes of alienation and the in- 
 " creafe of trade and induftry, are more cafily ac- 
 •' counted for by general principles than the depref- 
 " Con of the Spaniih, and rife of the French monar- 
 *' chy, after the death of Charles the Fifth. Had 
 ^' Harry the Fourth, Cardinal Richlieu, and Louis 
 '• the Fourteenth, been Spaniards ; and Philip the 
 " Second, Third and Fourth, and Charles the Sec- 
 " ond, been Frenchmen ; the hiftory of thefe na^ 
 " lions had been entirely reverfed." 
 
 From thefe principles, it would feem to be a ner 
 ccflkry confequence, that, in proportion as the cir- 
 cumftances fliail operate which I have b^en endeav- 
 oring to iiluftrate, ihe whole fyftem of human affairs 
 including both the domeftic order of f )ciety in par- 
 ticular ftates, and the relations which exifl among 
 different communities, in confequence of war and 
 
244* ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 negociation, will be fubjefled to the influence of 
 caufes which are " known and determinate." Thofe 
 domeftic .ifFairs, which, according to Mr. Hume, are 
 already proper fubjec^s of reafoning and obfervation, 
 in confequence of their dependence on general in- 
 terefls and pailions, will become fo, more and more, 
 daily, as prejudices fhall decline, and knowledge fhall 
 be difFufed among the lower orders : while the re- 
 lations among the different ftates, which have depen- 
 ded hitherto, in a great meafure, on the " whim, 
 '' folly, and caprice,** of fingle perfons, will be grad- 
 ually more ar.d more regulated by the general inter- 
 efts of the individals, who compofe them, and by 
 the popular opinions of more enlightened times. 
 Already, during the very fliort interval which has 
 elapled iince the publication of Mr. Hume's writings, 
 an aftonifliing change has taken place in Europe. 
 The myfteries of courts have been laid open ; the 
 influence of fecret negociation on the relative fitua- 
 tion of ftates has declined ; and the ftudies of thofe 
 men whofe public fpirit or ambition devotes them 
 to the fervice of their country, have been diverted 
 from the intrigues of cabinets, and the details of the 
 diplomatic code, to the liberal and manly purfuits of 
 pohtical philofophy. 
 
 A 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 24^ 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH. 
 OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS. 
 
 THE fubject on which I am now to enter, natu- 
 rally divides itfelf into two Parts. The firft, relates 
 to the influence of Affociation, in regulating the 
 fucceflion of our thoughts ; the Second, to its influ- 
 ence on the intelledual powers, and on the moral 
 character, by the more intimate and indiflbluble com« 
 binations which it leads us to form in infancy and 
 in early youth. The two inquiries, indeed run in- 
 to each other ; but it will contribute much to the 
 order of our fpeculations, to keep the foregoing ar- 
 rangement in view. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 «F THE INFLUENCE OF ASSOCIATION IN REGaLATINCt? 
 THE SUCCESSION OF OUR THOUGHTS, 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 General Ob fervations on this Part of our Conftiiulion^ and 
 on the Language of Philofophers zvith refped to it, 
 
 THAT one thought is nften fuggefted to the mind 
 by another ; and that the fight of an external objcd 
 often recals former occurrences, and revives former 
 feelings, are fadts which are perfectly familiar, even 
 to thofe who are the leafl: difpofed to fpeculate con- 
 cerning the principles of their nature. In paflii^g 
 along a road which we have formerly travelled in 
 the company of a friend, the particulars of the con- 
 
246 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 verfation in which we were then engaged, are fre- 
 quently fuggefted to us by the objc(5ls we meet with^ 
 In fuch a fcene, we recoiled that a particular lubjed: 
 was ftarted ; and, in palling difierent houfes, and 
 plantations, and rivers, the arguments we were dif- 
 cufling when we lafl: faw them, recur fpontaneoufly 
 to the memory. The connection which is formed 
 in the mind between the words of a language and 
 the ideas they denote ; the connection which is for- 
 med between the different words of a difcoarfe we 
 have committed to tremory ; the connexion be- 
 tween the different notes of a piece of mufic in the 
 mind of the mufician, are all obvious inftances of the 
 fame general law of our nature. 
 
 The influence of perceptible objeds in reviving 
 former thoughts and former feelings, is more par- 
 ticularly remarkable. After time has, in fome de- 
 gree, reconciled us to the death of a friend, how 
 wonderfully are we affected the firft time we enter 
 the houfe where he lived ! Every thing we fee ; the 
 apartment where he ftudied ; the chair upon which 
 he fat, recal to us the happinefs we have enjoyed to- 
 gether ; and we iliould feel it a fort of violation of 
 that refpecl we owe to his memory, to engage in any 
 light or indiifefent difcourfe when fuch objeds are 
 before us. In the cafe, too, of thofe remarkable 
 fcenes which interefl the curiofity, from the memo- 
 rable perfons or tranfaclions which we have been ac- 
 cuflomed to conned with them in the courfe of our 
 ftudies, the fancy is more awakened by the aclual 
 perception of the fcene itfelf, than by the mere con- 
 ception or imagination of it. Hence the pleafure we 
 enjoy in vifiting claflical ground ; in beholding the 
 retreats whicli infpired the genius of our favorite 
 authors, or the fields which ha^e been dignified by 
 exertions of heroic virtue. How feeble are the 
 amotions produced by the livdlieft conception of 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 247 
 
 modern Italy, to what the poet felt, when, amidit 
 
 the ruins of Rome, 
 
 " He drew th' inspiring breath of antient arts, 
 
 *' \nd trod the sacred walks 
 
 «* Where, at each step, imagination burns !*'*" 
 
 The well-known efFed of a particular tune on 
 Swifs regiments when at a diftance from home, fur- 
 nilhes a very ftriking illuftration of the peculiar 
 power of a perception, or of an impreffion on the 
 fenfes, to awaken aifociated thoughts and feehngs ; 
 and numberlefs fa^c^s of a fimilar nature muft have 
 occurred to every perfon of moderate fenfibility, in 
 the courfe of his own experience. 
 
 " Whilft we were at dinner," C^ays Captain King,) 
 " in this miferable hut, on the banks of the river 
 ** Awatfka ; the guefts of a people with whofe exift- 
 ** ence we had before been fcarce acquainted, and 
 « at the extremity of the habitable globe ; a folitary, 
 " half- worn pewter fpoon, whofe Ihape was familiar 
 " to us, attracted our attention ; and, on examina- 
 *' tion, we found it ftamped on the back with the 
 *^ word London, I cannot pafs over this circumftance 
 " in filence, out of gratitude for tjie many pleaiant 
 *' thoughts, the anxious hopes, and tender remem- 
 <* brances, it excited in Us. Thofe who have expe- 
 *' rienced the efFecls that long abfence, and extreme 
 ^' diftance from their native country, produce on the 
 *' mind, will readily conceive the pleafure fuch a irr- 
 ** fling incident can give." 
 
 The difference between the effect of a perception 
 and an idea, in a«vakening affociated thoughts and 
 feelings, is finely defcribed in the introduction to the 
 fifth book Dejinibus, 
 
 " We agreed," (fays Cicero,) " that we Ihould 
 " take our afternoon's walk in the academy, as at 
 
 » " Quacunqae ingredimur," (says Cicero, speaking of Atheiis.^ 
 ^ in aliquam liistoriam vestigium ponimus.'* 
 
248 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ** that time of the day it was a place where there was 
 *' no refort of company. Accordingly, at the hour 
 •« appointed, we went to Pifo's. We paffed the 
 '* time in cr.nverfing on different matters during our 
 *' fhort walk from the double gate, till we came to 
 '* the academy, that juftly celebrated fpot ; which, 
 *' as we wifhed, we found a perfect foiitude.'* " I 
 *« know not," (faid Pifo,) *' whether it be a natural 
 *' feeling, or an illufion of the imagination founded 
 *' on habit, that we are more powerfully affeded by 
 ** the light of thofe places which have been much 
 *' frequented by illuftrious men, than when we either 
 *' liften to the recital, or read the detail, of their great 
 '' adions. At this moment, I feel llrongly the emo- 
 " tion which I fpeak of. I fee before me, the per- 
 ^^ feci form of Plato, who was wont to difpute in 
 '• this very place *. thefe gardens not only recai him 
 *^ to my memory, but prelent his very perfon tc> my 
 " fenfes, I fancy to rnyfclf, that here flood Sptufip- 
 *' pus ; there Xenocrates, and here, on this bench, 
 *' fat his difcipie Polemo. To me, our antient fenate- 
 " houfe leems peopled with the like viionary Forms ; 
 " for, often, when I enter it, the ihades of Scipi(>, of 
 '' Cato, and of Laslius, and, in particular, of my vcn- 
 *' arable grandfather, rife to my imagination. In 
 *' fliort, fuch is the effect of local fituation in recall- 
 '' ing affociated ideas to the mind, that it is not 
 *' without reafon, fome philofophers have founded 
 " on this principle a fpecies of artificial memory." 
 
 This iiiiluence of perceptible objects, in awaken- 
 ing affociated thoughts and affociated feelings, feems 
 to arife, in a great meafure, from their permanent 
 operation as exciting or iuggefting caufes. When a 
 train of thought takes its rife from an idea or con- 
 ception, the firff idea foon difappears, and a feries of 
 others fucceeds, which are gradually lefs and lefs 
 related to that with which the train commenced ; 
 but, in the cafe of perception, the exciting caufe re- 
 
OP THE HUMAN MIND. 249 
 
 mains fteadily before us ; and all the thoughts and 
 feelings which have any relation to it, crowd into the 
 mind in rapid fucceffion ; ftrengthening each other's 
 effects, and all confpiring in the fame general im- 
 preffion. 
 
 I already obferved, that the connections which 
 exift among our thoughts, have been long familiirly 
 known to the vulgar, as well as to philof jphers. It 
 is, indeed, only of late, that we have been poffeffed 
 of an appropriated phrafe to exprefs them ; but that 
 the general fad is not a recent difcovery, may be in- 
 ferred from many of the common maxims of pru- 
 dence and of propriety, which have plainly been lug- 
 gefted by an attention to this part of our conftitu- 
 tion. When we lay it down, for example, as a gen- 
 eral rule, to avoid in converfation all expreflions, and 
 all topics of difcourfe, v/hich have any relation, 
 however remote, to ideas of an unpleafant nature, 
 we plainly proceed on the fuppofition that there are 
 certain connexions among our thoughts, which 
 have an influence over the order of their fucceffion. 
 It is unneceflary to remark, how much of the com- 
 fort and good-humor of focial life depends on an at- 
 tention to this confideration- Such attentions are 
 more particularly eflential in our intercourfe with 
 men of the world ; for the commerce of fociety has 
 a wonderful efFed in increaiing the quicknefs and 
 the faciUty with which we affociate all ideas which 
 have any reference to life and manners ;* and, of 
 
 * The superiority which the man of the world possesses over 
 the recluse student, in his knowledge of mankind, is partly the re- 
 sult of this quickness and facility of aJ-sociation. Thoi^e trifling 
 circumstances in conversation and behavior, which, to the latter, 
 convey only their most obvious and avowed meaning, lay open to 
 the former, many of the trains of thought which are connected 
 with them, and frequentl)i give him a distinct view of a character, 
 on that very side where it is supposed to be most concealed from 
 his observation. 
 
 Hh 
 
250 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 confequence, it muft render the fenfibllity alive to 
 many circumftances which, from the remotenefs of 
 their relation to the fituation and hiftory of the par- 
 ties, would otherwife have pafTed unnoticed. 
 
 When an idea, however, is thus fuggefled by aflb- 
 ciation, it produces a flighter imprellion, or, at leaft; 
 it produces its impreilion more gradually, than if it 
 were prefented more diredly and immediately to 
 the mind. And hence, when we are under the ne- 
 ceffity of communicating any difagreeable informa- 
 tion to another, delicacy leads us, inftead of mention- 
 ing the thing itfelf, to mention fomething elfe from 
 which our meaning may be underftood. In this 
 manner, we prepare our hearers for the unwelcome 
 intelligence. 
 
 The distinction between grofs and delicate flattery, 
 is founded upon the fame principle. As nothing is 
 more ofFc-nlive than flattery which is direct and point- 
 ed, praife is confidered as happy and elegant, in pro- 
 portion to the flightnefs of the affociations by which 
 it is conveyed. 
 
 To this tendency which one thought has to intro- 
 duce another, phllofophers have given the name of 
 the AJfociation cf ideas ; and, as I would not wifli, ex- 
 cepting in a cafe of neceility, to depart from common 
 language, or to expofe myfelf to the charge of deli- 
 vering old doctrines in a new form, I fliall continue 
 to make ufe of the lame expreffion. I am fenfible, 
 indeed, that the expreffion is by no means unexcep- 
 tionable ; and that, if it be ufed (as it frequently has 
 been) to comprehend thofe laws by which the fuc- 
 cellion of all our thoughts and of all our mental op- 
 erations is regulated, the word idea muft be under- 
 flood in a fenle much more extenfive than it is com- 
 monly employed in. It is very juftly remarked by 
 Dr. Reid, that " memory, judgment, reafoning, 
 *^ paffions, afiedlions, and purpofes ; in a word, every 
 *' operation of the niind, excepting thofe of fenfe, is 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 251" 
 
 ^^ excited occafionally^in the train of our thoughts : 
 " fo that, if we make the train of our thoughts to be 
 *' only a train of ideas, the word idea muft be under- 
 " ftood to denote all thefe operations." In contin- 
 uing, therefore, to employ, upon this fubjecl, that 
 language, which has been confecrated by the practice 
 of our bell philofophical wTiters in England, I would 
 not be underftood to difpute the advantages which 
 might be derived from the introduction of a new 
 phrafe, more precife and more applicable to the 
 fad. 
 
 The ingenious author Vv'hom I lad quoted, feems 
 to think that the affocialion of ideas has no claim to be 
 conlidered as an original principle, or as an ultimate 
 fact in our nature. " I believe," (fays he,) " that 
 " the original principles of the mind, of which we 
 *' can give no account, but that fuch is our conftitu- 
 '' tion, are more in number than is commonly 
 " thought. But we ought not to multiply them 
 *« without neceffity. That trains of thinking, which, 
 " by frequent repetition, have become familiar^ 
 *' ftiould fpontaneoufly offer themfelves to our fancy, 
 " feems to require no other original quality but the" 
 " power of habit." 
 
 With this obfervation I cannot agree ; becaufe I 
 think it more philofophical to rcfolve the power of 
 habit into the affociation of ideas, than to refolve the 
 affociation of ideas into habit. 
 
 The word habit, in the fenfe in which it is com- 
 monly employed, expreffes that facility which the 
 mind acquires, in all its exertions, both animr.l and 
 intellectual, in confequence of practice. We apply it 
 to the dexterity of the workman ; to the extempo- 
 rary fluency of the orator ; to the rapidity of the 
 arithmetical accountant. That this facility is the 
 effect of practice, we know from experience to be a 
 fad: : but it does not feem to be an ultimate fact, 
 nor incapable of analyfis. 
 
252 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 In the Effay on Attention, I ihewed that the efFe6ls 
 of practice are produced partly on the body, and 
 partly on the mind. The mufcles which we employ 
 in mechanical operations, become ftronger, and be- 
 come more obedient to the will. This is a fad, of 
 which it is probable that philofophy will never be 
 able to give any explanation. 
 
 But even in mechanical operations, the effeds of 
 practice are produced partly on the mind ; and, as 
 far as this is the cafe, they are refolvable into what 
 philofopliers call, the ajfociation of ideas ; or into that 
 general fact, which Dr. Reid himfelf has ftated, " that 
 *' trains of thinking, which, by frequent repetition, 
 *' have become familiar, fpontaneoufly offer them- 
 " felves to the mind." In the cafe of habits which 
 are purely intellectual, the eifeds of pradice refolve 
 themfelves completely into this principle : and it ap- 
 pears to me more precife and more fatisfad:ory, to 
 ilate the principle itfelf as a law of our conftitution, 
 than to flur it over under the concife appellation of 
 habit^ which we apply in comnion to mind and to 
 body. 
 
 1 he tendency in the human mind to afTociate or 
 connect its thoughts together, is fometimes called 
 (but very improperly) the imagination. Between 
 thefe two parts of our conftitution, there is indeed 
 a very intimate relation ; and it is probably owing 
 to this relation, that they have been fo generally con- 
 founded under the fame name. "When the mind is 
 occupied about abfent objects of fenfe, (which, I be- 
 lieve, it is habitually in the great majority of man- 
 kind,) its train of thought is merely a feries of con- 
 ceptions ; or, in common language, of imaginations.* 
 In the cafcj too, of poetical imagination, it is the af- 
 
 * Accordingly, Hobbes calls the train of thought in the mil 
 " Consequentia sive series imaginationum.'* *' Per seriem imaj 
 " nationum intelligo successionecn unius cogitationis ad aliam." 
 J^EviATHAN, cap. iii. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 253 
 
 fociation of ideas that fupplies the materials out of 
 which its combinations are formed ; and when fuch 
 an imaginary combination is become familiar to the 
 mind, it is the aflbciation of ideas that connects its 
 different parts together, and unites them into one 
 whole. The aflbciation of ideas, therefore, although 
 perfedlly diftind: from the power of im.agination, is 
 immediately and eflentially fubfervient to all its ex- 
 ertions. 
 
 The laft obfervation feems to me to point out, al- 
 fo, the circumftance which has led the greater part 
 of Engliih writers, to ufe the words Imagination 
 and Fancy as fynonymous. It is obvious that a cre- 
 ative imagination, when a perfon poflefles it fo ha- 
 bitually that it may be regarded as forming one of 
 the characleriftics of his genius, implies a power of 
 fummoning up, at pleafure, a particular cUfs of 
 ideas ; and of ideas related to each other in a par-* 
 ticular manner ; which power can be the refult on^ 
 ly, of certain habits of aflbciation, which the indi- 
 vidual has acquired. It is to this power of the 
 mindjwhich is evidently a particular turn of thought, 
 and not one of the common principles of our nature, 
 that our befl: writers (fo for as I am able to judge) 
 refer, in general, when ihey make ufe of the word 
 fancy : I fay, in general ; for in difquifitions rf this 
 fort, in which the beft writers are feldom precife and 
 fteady in the employment of words, it is only to 
 their prevailing practice that we can appeal as an au-^ 
 thority. What the particular relations are, by 
 which thofe ideas are connected that are fubfervi- 
 ent to poetical imagination, I fhall not enquire at 
 prefent. I think they are chiefly thofe of refem- 
 blance and analogy. But whatever they may be, 
 the power of fummoning up at pleafure the ideas fo 
 related, as it is the ground-work of poetical genius, 
 is of fufEcient importance in the human conftitu- 
 tion to deferve an appropriated name \ and, for this 
 
2^4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 purpofe, the word fancy would appear to be the 
 moft convenient that our language affords. 
 
 Dr Rcid has fomewhere obfierved, that " the part 
 " of our conftitution on which the aflociation of 
 *' ideas depends, was called, by the older Englifh 
 " writers, /tf 7^/^ or fancy •** an ufe of the word, wc 
 may remark, which coincides, in many inftances, 
 with that which I propofe.to make of it. It differs 
 from it only inthis,that thefe writers applied it to the 
 affociation of ideas in general, whereas I reftricl its 
 application to that habit of affociation, which is fub- 
 fervient to poetical imagination. 
 
 According to the explanation, which has now- 
 been given of the word Fancy, the office of this pow- 
 er is to colled: materials for the Imagination ; and 
 therefore the latter power prefuppofes the former, 
 while the former does not neceffarily fuppofe the 
 latter. A man whole habits of affociation prefent to 
 him, for illuftrating or embellifhing a fubjecl, a num- 
 ber of refembling or of analogous ideas, we call a 
 man of fancy ; but for an effort of imagination, va- 
 rious other powers are neceffary, particularly the 
 powers of tafle and of judgment ; without which, 
 we can hope to produce nothing that will be a fcmrce 
 of pleafure to others. It is the power of fancy which 
 fupplies the poet with metaphorical language, and 
 with all the analogies which are the foundation of 
 his allufions ; but it is the power of imagination that 
 creates the complex fcenes he defcribes, and the fic- 
 titious charaders he delineates. To fancy, we ap- 
 ply the epithets of rich or luxuriant ; to imagina- 
 tion, thofe of beautiful or fublime. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 255 
 
 SECTION II. 
 Of the principles of ajfociation among our idem, 
 
 THE facls which I flated in the former feclion, to 
 illuftrate the tendency of a perception, or of an 
 idea, to fuggeft ideas related to it, are io obvious as 
 to be matter of common remark. But the relations 
 which connedl all our thoughts together, and the 
 laws which regulate their fucceflloup were but little 
 attended to before the publication of Mr. Hume's 
 writings. 
 
 It is well known to thofe who are in the leaft con-- 
 verfant with the prefent ftate of metaphyiical fci- 
 ence, that this eminent writer has attempted to re- 
 duce all the principles of affociation among our ideas 
 to three : Refemblance, Contiguity in time and 
 place, and Caufe and EfFed. The attempt was great, 
 and worthy of his ^nnius ; but it has been Ihewn by 
 feveral writers lince his time,* that his enumeration 
 is not only incomplete, but that it is even indiftind, 
 fo far as it goes. 
 
 * See in particular, Lord Kaincies's Elements of Criticism, and 
 Dr. Gerard's Essay on Genius. See also Dr. Campbell's Philoso- 
 phy 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 brevity, 
 that" the relations, by which we are led from one thought toan- 
 " other, in tracing out, or hunting ofter^^ (as he calls it,) " any par- 
 " ticular thought which does not immediately occur, are chiefly 
 " three ; Resemblance, Contrariety, and Contiguity." 
 
 See Drntrtathm^ Mora: and CriUcal,]^. 9. Also p. 145. 
 
 The passage to which Dr. Beattie refers, is as follows : 
 
 'Ora.v uv avj5^'f<.v>)0'xa,7>(.«.^flt, KivuyLi^oc, rojv ttporffoji rtva Ktm<7fUf., tois 
 ■a* KtvYi^uiMtv, (xs^ yiv bkuvt) siu/^s. Alo xxt TO s^s^ns ^psvofjiey totiaravres 
 
 rnro yivtrxi -n ava^nKris. 
 
 Ari^tot. de MeniQr. et Rem'miic, vol. i. p. 681. Edit. Lu Val. 
 
^56 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 It is not neceffary for my prefent purpofe, that I 
 fliould enter into a critical examination of this part 
 of Mr. Hume's fyftem ; or that I Ihould attempt to 
 fpecify thofe principles of aifociation which he has 
 omitted. Indeed it does not feem to me, that the 
 problem admits of a fatisfaclory folution ; for there 
 is no poflible relation among the obje<^s of our 
 knowledge, which may not ferve to connect them 
 together in the mind ; and, therefore, although one 
 enumeration may be more comprehenfive than an- 
 other, a perfectly complete enumeration is fcarcely 
 to be expected. 
 
 Nor is it merely in confequence of the relations 
 among things, that our notions of them are alTo- 
 ciated : they are frequently coupled together by 
 means of relations among the words which denote 
 them ; fuch as a fimilarity of found, or other cir- 
 cumftances ftill more trifling. The alliteration which 
 is fo common in poetry, and in4)roverbial fayings, 
 feems to arife, partly at leaft, from aflbciations of 
 ideas founded on the accidental circumftance, of the 
 two words which exprefs them beginning with the 
 fame letter. 
 
 " But thousands die, without or this or that, 
 ^^ Die ; and endow a College, or a Cat.'* 
 
 Pope's Ep. to Lord Batiiurst. 
 
 ''• Ward tried, on Puppies, and the poor, his drop." 
 
 Id. Imitat. of Horace. 
 
 ^' Puffd, powders, patches ; Bibles, billets-doux-" 
 
 Rape of the Lock, 
 
 This indeed pleafes only on flight occafions, when it 
 may be fuppofed that the mind is in fome degree play- 
 ful, and under the influence of thofe principles of 
 aflbciation which commonly take place when we are 
 carelefs and difengaged. Every perfon mufl: be of- 
 fended with the fecund line of the following couplet. 
 
©F THE HUMAN MiND. 25? 
 
 which forms part of a very fublime defcription 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 thefe obfervations, it may be addedsthat things 
 which have no known relation to each other are of- 
 ten aflbciated, in confequence of their producing 
 fimilar efleds on the mind. Some of the fineft po- 
 etical allufions are founded on this principle ; and 
 occordingly,if the reader is not poffefled of fenfibility 
 congenial to that of the poet, he will be apt to over- 
 look their meaning, or to cenfure them as abfurdJ 
 To fuch a critic it would not be eafy to vindicate the^ 
 beauty of the following flanza, in an Ode addreffed 
 to a Lady by the Author of the Sea/ens. 
 
 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 faid, that the view of the fubject 
 which I propofe to take, does not require a complete 
 enumeration of our principles of affociation. There 
 is, however, an important diftindion among them, 
 to which I (hall have occafion frequently to refer ; 
 and which, as far as I know, has not hitherto attract- 
 ed the notice of philofophers. The relations up- 
 on which fome of them are founded, are perfectly 
 obvious to the mind ; thofe which are the founda- 
 tion of others, are difcovered only in confequence of 
 particular efforts of attention. Of the former kind, 
 are the relations of Relemblance and Analogy, of 
 Contrariety, of Vicinity in time and place, and thofe 
 which arise from accidental coincidences in the found 
 of different words. Thefe, in general, connedl our 
 thoughts together, when they are fuffered to take 
 I I 
 
25S ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 their natural courfe, and when we are confcioiis of 
 little orno adive exertion. Of the latter kind, are 
 the relations of C lufe and Eifed:, of Means and End, 
 of Pre mi fes and Condudon ; and thofe others, which- 
 regulate the train of thought in the mind of th^ phi- 
 lofopher, when he is engaged in a particular invefti- 
 gation. 
 
 It is owing to this diftinclion, that tranfitions,. 
 which would be highly offenfive in philofophical 
 writings, are the moll: plealing of any in poetry. In 
 the former fpecies of compofition, we exped to fee 
 an author lay down a diftinct plan or method, and ob- 
 ferveit rigoroufly ; without allowing hirafelf to ram- 
 ble into digrefiions, fuggefted by the accidental ideas 
 or expreflions which may occur to bjm in his prog- 
 refs* In that ftate of mind in which poetry is read, 
 fuch digrefiions are not only agreeable, but neceffary 
 totheeffed; and an arrangement founded on the 
 fpontaneous and feemingly cafual order of our 
 thoughts, pleafes more than one fuggefted by an ac- 
 curate analyfis of the fubjed:. 
 
 How a jfurd would the long digreffion in praife 
 of Liduftry, in Thompfon's Autumn, appear, if it 
 occurred in a profe effay ! — a digreflion, however^ 
 which, in that beautiful poem, arifes naturally and 
 infenlibly from the view of a luxuriant harveft ; and 
 which as naturally leads the Poet back to the points 
 where his excurfiou began : 
 
 All is the gift of Industry ; whatever 
 Exalts, embellishes, and renders life 
 Delightful. Pensive Winter, cheer'd bv him, 
 Sits at the social fire, and happy hears 
 Th' excluded tempest idly rave abng ; 
 His harden'd fingers 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 wandering Song. 
 
&V THE HUMAN MIND. 25^ 
 
 In Goldfmith's Traveller, the tranfitions are ma- 
 aged with confumniate skill ; and yet, how differ- 
 ent from that logical method which would be f uited 
 to a philofophical difcourfe on the ftate of fociety in 
 the different parts of Europe ! Some of the fineft are 
 fuggefted by the afTociating principle of Contrafl. 
 Thus, after defcribing the effeminate and debaied 
 Romans, the Poet proceeds to the Swifs : 
 
 My soul, turn from them-— turn we to survey 
 Where rougher climes a nobler race display. 
 
 And, after painting fome defeds in the manners of 
 this gallant but unrefined people, his thoughts are 
 led to thofe of the French : 
 
 To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, 
 I turn — and France displays her bright domain. 
 
 The tranfition which occurs in the following lines, 
 feems to be fuggefted by the accidental mention of 
 a word .; and is certainly one of the happieft in cmr 
 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 1 
 — Fired at the sound, my Genius spreads her wing. 
 And flies, where Biitain courts the western spring. 
 
 Numherlefs illuilrations of the fame remark niight 
 be colleded from the ancient Poets, more particu- 
 larly from the Georgics of Virgil, where the fingu- 
 iar felicity of the tranfitions has attra<5led the notice 
 even of thofe, who 'iiave been theleail dilpofed to in- 
 dulge themfelves in philofophical refinements con- 
 cerning the principles of Critic ifm. A celebrated 
 inftance of this kind occurs in the end of the firft 
 Book : — the confideration of the weather and of its 
 xiommon prognoftics leading the fancy, in the firft 
 
260 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 place, to thofe more extraordinary phenomena 
 which, according to the luperftirious belief of the 
 vulgar, are the forerunners of political Revolutions ; 
 and, afterwards, to the death of Caefar, and the bat- 
 tles ofPharfalia andPhilippi. The manner in which 
 the Poet returns to his original fubje^t, difplays that 
 exquifite art which is to be derived only from the 
 diligent and enlightened ftudy of nature. 
 
 Scilicet et tempus veniet, cum finibus illis 
 i-\gricohi, incur vo terram niolitus aratro, 
 Exe^a invenit't scaNi a ruhigine pila j 
 Aut gravibus rastris galeas pulsabit inanes, 
 Gtandiaque effossis mirabitur ossa sepulcbris. 
 
 The facility with which ideas are affociated in the 
 mind, is very different in different individuals : a 
 circumflance which, as I Ihall afterwards Ihew, lays 
 the foundation of remarkable varieties among men, 
 both in refpecf of genius and of charader. I am 
 inclined, too, to think that in the other fex (proba-- 
 bly in confequence of early education) ideas are more 
 eafily affociated together, than in the minds of men. 
 Hence the livelinefs of their fancy, and the fuperi- 
 ority they pofTefs in epiflolary writing, and in thofe 
 kinds of poetry, in which the principal recommenda- 
 tions are, eafe of thought and exprefTion. Hence, 
 too, the facility with which tkey contnici: or lofe 
 habits, and accommodate their minds to new fitua- 
 tions ; and, I may add, the dilpofition they have to 
 that fpecies of fuperflition v hich is founded on acci- 
 dental combinations of circumflances. The influ- 
 ence which this facility of affociation has on the pow- 
 er of Tafte, Ihall be afterwards ccnfidcrcd. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 26l 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 0/tJje Power which the Mind has over the Train of its 
 
 Thoughts, 
 
 BY means of the Affociation of Ideas, a conftant 
 current of thoughts, if I may uie the expreilion, is 
 made to pafs through the mind while we are awake. 
 Sometimes the current is interrupted, and the 
 thoughts diverted into a new channel, in confe- 
 quence of the ideas fuggefted by other men, or of 
 the objects of perception with which we are iur- 
 rounded. So completely, however, is the mind in 
 this particular fubje^ted to phyfical laws, that it has 
 been juftly obferved,* we cannot, by an eifort of our 
 will, call up any one thought ; and that the train of 
 our ideas depends on cauies which operate in a man- 
 ner inexplicable by us. 
 
 This obfervation, although it has been cenfured 
 as paradoxical, is almoft felt-evident ; for, to call up 
 a particular thought, fuppofes it to be already in the 
 mind. As I fliall have frequent occafion, however, 
 to refer to the obfervation afterwards, I (h.ill endea- 
 vor to obviate the only objection which, 1 think, can 
 reafonably be urged againft it ; and which is found- 
 ed on that operation of the mind, which is common- 
 ly called recollection or intentional memory. 
 
 It is evident, that, before we attempt to recolle(5t 
 the particular circumflances of any event, that event 
 in general muft have been an object of our attention. 
 We remember the outlines of the ftory, but cannot 
 at hrft give a complete account of it. If we wifli to 
 recal thefe circumftar.ces, there are only two ways in 
 which we can proceed. We mull either form dif- 
 
 * By Lord Kaimes, and others. 
 
262 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ferent fuppofitions, and then confider which of thefe 
 tallies beft with the other circumftances of the event ; 
 or, by revolving in our mind the circun)ftances we 
 remember, we muft endeavor to excite the recollec- 
 tion of the other circumftances affociated with them. 
 The firft of thefe procefTes is, properly fpeaking, an 
 inference of reafon, and plainly furniflies no excep- 
 tion to the doctrine already delivered. We have an 
 inftance of the other mode of recollection, when we, 
 are at ^ lofs for the beginning of a fentence in recit- 
 ing a compcjfition that we do not perfe<51:ly remem- 
 ber ; in which cafe we naturally repeat over, two or 
 three times, the concluding words of the preceding 
 fentence, in order to call up the other words which 
 aifed to be connected with them in the memory. In 
 this inftance, it is evident, that the circumftances we 
 delire to remember, are not recalled to the mind in 
 immediate confequence of an exertion of volitionj^ 
 but are fuggelted by fome other circumftances with 
 ■which they are connected, independently of our will, 
 by the laws of our conftitution. 
 
 NoCwithftanding, however, the immediate depen- 
 dence of the train of our thoughts on the laws of 
 aflt)ciation, it muft not be imagined that the will pof- 
 fefles no influence over it. This influence, indeed, 
 is not exercifed directly and immediately, as we are 
 apt to iuppofe, on a fuperficial view of the fubject : 
 but it is, neverthelefs, very extenfive in its effects 5 
 and the different degrees in which it is pofleffed by 
 /iifferent individuals, conftitute fome of the moft 
 ftriking inequalities among men, in point of intellec- 
 tual capacity. 
 
 Of the powers which the mind poflefles over the 
 train of its thoughts, the moft obvious is its power 
 of Angling out any one of them at pleafure ; of de- 
 taining it ; and of making it a particular objedt of 
 attention. By doing fo, we not only flop the fuc- 
 cfiflion that would otherwife take place ; but in coiu 
 
O^ THE HUMAN MIND, ^QS- 
 
 ieqii^nce of our bringing to view the lefs obvious re- 
 lations among our ideas, we freq^uently divert the 
 current of our thoughts into a new channel. If, for 
 example, when I am indolent and inactive, the name 
 of Sir Ifaac Newton accidentally occur to me, it wili 
 perhaps fuggeft, one after another, the names of 
 fome other eminent mathematicians and aftrono- 
 mers, or of fome of his illuftrious contemporaries and 
 friends : and a number of them may pafs in review 
 before me, without engaging my curiofity in any 
 conGderable degree. In a different ftate of mind, 
 the name of Newton will lead my thoughts to the 
 principal incidents of his life, and the more ftriking 
 features of his character : or, if my mind be ardent 
 and vigorous, will lead my attention to the fublime 
 difcoveries he made ; and gradually engage me in 
 fome philofophical inveftigation. To every objed:, 
 there are others which bear obvious and ftriking re- 
 lations ; and others^ alfo, whofe relation to it does 
 not readily occur to us, unlefs we dwell upon it for 
 fomt: time, and place it before us in different points 
 of view. 
 
 But the principal power we pofTefs over the train 
 of -mr ideas, is founded on the influence which our 
 habits of thinking have on the laws of Afibciation ^ 
 an influence which is fo great, that we may often 
 form a pretty fhrewd judgment concerning a man's 
 prevailing turn of thought, from the tranfitions he 
 makes in converfation or in writing. It is well known, 
 too, that by means of habit, a particular aflbeiating 
 principle may be ftrengthened to fuch a degree, as 
 to give us a command of all the different ideas in 
 our mind, which have a certain relation to each oth- 
 er ; fo that when any one of the clafs occurs to us 
 we have almoft a certainty that it will fuggeft the 
 reft. What confidence in his own powers muft a 
 fpeaker polTefs, wiien he rites without premeditation, 
 in a popular aiTembiy, to amufe his audience with a 
 
^64 ELEMENTS OF TttE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 lively or an humorous fpeech ! Such a confHcnce, it 
 is evident, can only ariie from a long experience of 
 the flrength of particular affociating principles. 
 
 To how great a degree this part ot our conlHtu- 
 tion may be influenced by habit, appears from facls 
 which are famiUar to every one. A man who has an 
 ambition to become a punfter, feldom or never fails 
 in the attainment of his object ; that is, he feldom or 
 never fails in acquiring a power which other men have 
 not, of fummoningup,on a particular ^ccafion, a num. 
 ber of words different from each other in meaning, & 
 refembling each other, more or lefs, in found. I am 
 inclined to think that even genuine wit is a habit ac- 
 quired in a limilar way ; and that, although forhe 
 individuals may, from natural conftitution, be more 
 fitted than others to acquire this habit ; it is found- 
 ed in every cafe on a peculiarly ftrong aiTociation 
 among certain claffes of our ideas, which gives the 
 perfon who poffeffes it, a cdrhmand over thofe ideas 
 which is denied to ordinary men^ But there is no 
 inflance in which the effecf of habits of aiTociation is 
 more remarkable, than in thofe men who poffefs a 
 facility of rhyming. That a man fliould be able to 
 exprefs his thoughts perfpicuoufly and elegantly, un- 
 der the reftraints which rhyme impofes, would ap- 
 pear to be incredible, if we did not know it to bo 
 fa^. Such a pov^;er implies a wonderful command 
 both of ideas and of expreflbns ; and yet daily expe- 
 rience fhews, that it may be gained v/ith very little 
 pradice. Pope tells us with refpefl to himfelf, that 
 he could exprefs himself not only more cbncifely, 
 but more eaiily, in rhyme than in profe* 
 
 * *' When habit is OKce gained, nothing so easy as practice, 
 " Cicero writes, that Antipater the Sidonian could pour forth 
 " hexameters extempore,- and that, whenev^er he chose to versify, 
 *' words followed him of course. We may add to Ant»p:itrr, the 
 *^ antient rhapscdists of the Greeks, and the modern Jinpioviaa-tori 
 *< of the Italian*." Ha^^s'b PhU. hiq. 109, 1 l.Oi' ' 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 265 
 
 Nor IS it only in thefe trifling accomplifliments 
 that we may trace the influence of habits of afTocia- 
 tion. In every inftance ot invention, either in the 
 fine arts, in the mechanical arts, or in the fciences, 
 there is fome new idea, or forae new, combination 
 of ideas, brought to light by the inventor. This, 
 undoubtedly, may often happen in a wa/ which he 
 is unable to explain ; that is, his invention may be 
 fuggefted to him by fome lucky thought, the origin 
 of which he is unable to trace. But when a man 
 poflefles an habitual fertility of invention in any par- 
 ticular art or fcience, and can rely, with confidence, 
 on his inventive powers, whenever he is called upon 
 to exert them, he mufl have acquired, by previous 
 habits of fludy, a command over certain clafTes of 
 his ideas, which enables him, at pleafure, to bring 
 them under his review. The illuftration of thele 
 fubjedls may throw light on fome procefTes of the 
 mind, which are not in general well underflood : 
 and I (hall, accordingly, in the following Sedion, of- 
 fer a few hints with refped to thofe habits of affo- 
 ciation which are the foundation of wit ; of the 
 < tf>w er of rhyming ; of poetical fancy j and of in- 
 vention in matters of fcience. 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 Itluji rations of the Do6lrine ftated in the -preceding Sedion, 
 
 I. Of Wit. 
 
 ACCORDING to Locke, Wit confifls " in the 
 " aflfemblige of ideas ; and putting thofe together 
 *' with quicknefs and variety, wherein can be found 
 
 any refemblance or congruity."* I would add to 
 
 cc 
 
 * Essp/ on Htiman Understanding, book ii. chap. 1 1 
 
 Kk 
 
266 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 this definition, (rather by way of explanation thaii 
 aniendment,) that Wit implies a power of calling up 
 at pleafure the ideas which it combines : and I ana 
 inclined to believe, that the entertainment which it 
 gives to the hearer, is founded, in a confiderable de- 
 gree, on his furprife, at the command which the man 
 of wit has acquired over a part of the conftitution, 
 which is fo little fubjecl to the will. 
 
 That the efFe6b of wit depends partly, at leaft, on 
 the circumftance now mentioned, appears evidently 
 from this, that we are more pleafed with a bon inotj 
 which occurs in converfation, than with one in print ; 
 and that we never fail to receive difgull from wit, 
 when we fufpect it to be premeditated. The plea- 
 fure, too, we receive from wit, is heightened, when 
 the original idea is ftarted by one perfon, and the re- 
 lated idea by another. Dr. Campbell has remarked, 
 that " a witty repartee is infinitely more pleafmg, 
 " than a witty attack ; and that an allufion will ap- 
 " pear excellent when thrown out extempore in con- 
 " verfation, which would be deemed execrable in 
 *' print." In all thefe cafes, the wit confidered abfo- 
 lutely is the fame. The relatione which are difcov- 
 ered between the compared ideas are equally nevy : 
 and yet, as foon as we fufpecl that the wit was pre- 
 meditated, the pleafure we receive from it is infinite- 
 ly diminiflied. Inffances indeed may be mentioned, 
 in which we are pleafed with contemplating an un- 
 expeded relation between ideas, without any refer- 
 ence to the habits of alTociation in the mincl of the 
 perfon who difcovered it. A bon mot produced at 
 the game of crofs-purpofes, would not fail to create 
 amufenient ; but in fuch cafes, our pleafure feems 
 chiefly to arife from the furprife we feel at fo extra- 
 ordinary a coincidence between a queftion and an 
 anfwer coming from perfons who had no direct com- 
 munication with each other. 
 
 Of the efFed added to wit by the promptitude 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. ^7 
 
 With which its combinations are formed. Fuller ap- 
 pears to have had a very juft idea, from what he has 
 recorded of the focial hours of our two great Eng- 
 3i(h Dramatifts. " Johnfon's parts were not fo rea- 
 " dy to run of themfelves, as able to anfwer the fpur ; 
 " fo that it may be truly faid of him, that he had an 
 *' elaborate wit, wrought out by his own induftry. — 
 *' Many were the wit-combats between him and 
 *' Shakespeare, which two I behold like a Spanifh 
 *' great galleon, and an Englifh mao of war. John- 
 " fon (like the former) was built far higher in learn- 
 " ing ; folid, but flow in his performances. Shake- 
 " fpeare, with the Englifh man of war, leil'er in bulk, 
 *' but lighter in failing, could turn with all tides, tack 
 ** about and take advantage of all winds, by the 
 *' quicknefs of his wit and invention.*'* 
 
 I before obferved, that the pleafure we receive 
 from wit is increafed, when the two ideas between 
 which the relation is difcovered, are fuggufted by 
 different perfons. In the cafe of a bon mot occur- • 
 ring in converfation, the reafon of this is abundant- 
 ly obvious ; becaufe, when the related ideas are 
 fuggefted by different perfons, we have a proof that 
 the wit was not premeditated. But even in a writ- 
 ten compofition , we are much more delighted 
 when the fubjed was furnifhed to the author by an* 
 other perfon, than when he chufes the topic on which 
 he is to difplay his wit. How much would the plea- 
 fure we receive from the Key to the Lock be diminifli- 
 ed, if we fufpected that the author had the key in 
 view when he wrote that poem ; and that he intro- 
 duced fome expreflions, in order to furnifli a fubje<^ 
 for the vvit of the commentator ? How totally would 
 It deftroy the pleafure we receive from a parody on 
 a poem, if we fufpefled that both were productions 
 of the fame autlior ? The truth feems to be, that 
 
 * History of the Worthies of England. London, 1 662. 
 
'^68\ ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 when both the related ideas are fuggefted by the 
 fame perfoii, we have not a very fatisfadory proof 
 of any thing uncommon in the intelledual habits of 
 the author. We may fufped that both ideas occur- 
 red to him at the fame time ; and we know that in 
 the duUeft and moft phlegmatic minds, fuch extra- 
 ordinary aflbciations wili fome tinies take place. 
 But when the fubjed: of the wit is furnifhed by one 
 perfon, and the wit fuggefted by another, we have a 
 proof, not only that the author's ndnd abounds with 
 fuch fingular aflbciations, but that he has his wit per- 
 fectly at command. 
 
 As an additional confirmation of thefe obfer ra- 
 tions, we may remark, that the more an author is 
 limited by his fubject, the more we are pleafed with 
 his wit. And, therefore, the effect of wit does not 
 arife folely from the unexpeded relations which it 
 prefents to the mind, but arifes, in part, from the 
 furprife it excites at thofe intelledual habits which 
 give it birth. It is evident, that the more the au- 
 thor is circumfcribed in the choice of his materials, 
 the greater muft l^e the command which he has ac- 
 quired over thofe aflbciating principles on which wit 
 depends, and of confequence, according to the fore- 
 going dodrine, the greater muft be the furprife and 
 the pleafure which his wit produces. In Addifon's 
 celebrated verfes to Sir Godfrey Kneller on his pid- 
 ure (^f George the Firft, in which he compares the 
 painter to Phidias, and the fubjeds of his pencil to 
 the Grecian Deities, the range of the Poet's wit was 
 rieceffarily confined within very narrow bounds; and 
 what principally delights us in that performance is, 
 the furprifiog eafe and felicity with which he runs 
 the parallel between the Englifh hiftory and the 
 Greek mythology. Of all the allufions which the 
 following pafiage contains, there is not one, taken 
 fingly, of very extraordinary merit ; and yet the ef- 
 fed of the whole is uncommonly great, from the fm- 
 
CF THE HUMATT MIND. 269 
 
 guhf power of combination, which fa long and fo 
 difficult an exertion difcovers. 
 
 ** Wise Phidias thus, his skill to prove, 
 " Thro' many a god advanced to Jove, 
 " And taught the polish'd rocks to shine 
 " Wilh airs and lineanoentb divine, 
 " Till Greece amaz'd and half afraid, 
 *< Th* asse -nbled peities survey'd. 
 
 " Great Pan, who wont to chase thefarr, 
 " And lov'd the spreading oak, was there ; 
 ** Old Saturn, too, with up -cast eyes^ 
 " Beheld his abdicated skies ; 
 "^And mighty Mars for war renowned, 
 ** 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 trouWed ocean's queen, 
 " Match'd with a mortal next was saSBJ 
 ** Reclin n^ 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 pleafure we derive irom that af- 
 femblage of ideas which it prefents, is greatly height- 
 ened and enlivened by our furprife at the conaniand 
 difplayed over a part of the conflitution, which, in 
 our own cafe, we find to be fo little fubje^l to the 
 will. We confider Wit as a fort of feat or trick of 
 intellectual dexterity, analogous, in fome relpeds, to 
 the extraordinary performances of jugglers ana rope- 
 dancers ; and . in both caies, the pieafure we receive 
 from the exhibition, is explicable m part, (I, by no 
 means, fay entirely J or. the fame principles. 
 
 If thefe remarks be juft, it feems to follow as a con- 
 fecjuence, that thofe men who are moil deficient in 
 
t>70 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 the power of prompt combination,will be moft poign- 
 antly afFecled by it, when exerted at the will of an- 
 other : and therefore, the charge of jealoufy and en- 
 vy brought againft rival Wits, when difpofed to 
 look gra^re at each other's jefts, may perhaps be ob- 
 viated in a way lefs injurious to their charafters. 
 
 The fame remarks fugged a limitation, or rather 
 an explanation, of an alTertion of Lord Chefterfield's 
 that " genuine wit never made any man laugh 
 " fmce the creation of the world." The obferva- 
 tion, I br^lieve, to be juft, if by genuine wit, we 
 mean wit wholly divefted of every mixture of hum- 
 or : and if by laughter we mean, that convulfive and 
 noify agitation which is excited by the ludicrous. — 
 But there is unqueftionably ^ifmUe appropriated to 
 the flaihes of wit 5 — a fmile of furprife and wonder ; 
 -—not altogether unlike the efFed produced on the 
 mind and the countenance, by a feat of legerdemain 
 when executed with uncommon fuccefs. 
 
 11. Of Rhyme, 
 
 The pleafure we receive from rhyme, feems alfo 
 to arife, partly, from our furprife at the cammand 
 which the Poet muft have acquired over the train 
 of his ideas, in order to be able to exprefs liimfelf 
 with elegance, and the appearance of eafe, under the 
 reftraint which rhyme impofes. In witty or in hu- 
 morous performances, this furprife ferves to enliven 
 that which the wit or the humor produces, and 
 renders its efFecls more fenfible. How flat do the 
 livelieft and moft ludicrous thoughts appear in blank 
 verfe ? And how wonderfully is the wit of Pope 
 heightened, by the eafy and happy rhymes in which 
 it is expreffed ? 
 
 It muft not, however, be imagined, either in the 
 cafe of wit or of rhyme,that the pleafure arifes foleljr 
 from our furprife at the uncommon habits of alfoci- 
 
dF THE HUMAN MIND. 271 
 
 ation which the author difcovers. In the former 
 cafe, there muft be prefented to the mind, an unex- 
 pected analogy or relation between different ideas ; 
 and perhaps other circumftances muft concur to ren- 
 der the wit perfed. If the combination has no oth- 
 er merit than that of bringing together two ideas 
 which never met before, we may be furprifed at its 
 oddity, but we do not confider it as a proof of wit. 
 On the contrary, the want of any analogy or rela- 
 tion between the combined ideas, leads us to fufpe<51:, 
 that the one did not fugged the other, in confe- 
 quence of any habits of affociation ; but that the 
 two were brought together by ftudy, or by mere 
 accident. All that I affirm is, that when the analo- 
 gy or relation is pleaiing in itfelf, our pleafure is 
 heightened by our furprife at the author's habits of 
 affociation when compared with our own. In the 
 cafe of Rhyme, too, there is undoubtedly a certain 
 degree of pleafure ariling from the recurrence of 
 the same found. We frequently obferve children 
 amufe themfelves with repeating over fingle words 
 which rhyme together : and the lower people, who 
 derive little pleafure from poetry, excepting in fo 
 far as it affeds the ear, are fo pleafed with the echo 
 of the rhymes, that when they read verfes where it 
 is not perfed:, they are apt to fupply the Poet's de- 
 fers, by violating the common rules of pronuncia- 
 tion. This pleafure, however, is heightened by 
 our admiration of th<3 miraculous powers which the 
 poet muft have acquired over the train of his ideas, 
 and over all the various modes of exprelTion which 
 the language affords, in order to convey inilruclion 
 and entertainment, without tranfgrefling the eftab- 
 iifhed laws of regular verfification. In fome of the 
 lower kinds of poetry ; for example, in acroftics, 
 and in the lines which are adapted to bouts rmci^ t! e 
 merit lies entirely in this command of thought and 
 expreUion \ or, in other words, in a command of 
 
272 ELEMENTS OF THE PHfLOSOPHY 
 
 ideas founded on extraordinary habits of affociation. 
 Even feme authors of a fuperior clafs, occalionaily 
 ihew an inclination to ditplay their knack at rhym- 
 ing, by introducing, at the end of the iirft line of a 
 couplet, fome word to which the language hardly af- 
 fords a correfp:)i.ding found. Swift, in his more 
 trifling pieces, abounds with inftances of this ; and 
 in Hudibras, when the author ufes his double and 
 tripple rhymes, many couplets have no merit what- 
 ever but what arifes from dilScuIty of execution. 
 
 The pleafure we receive from rhyme in lerious 
 compofitions, arifes from a combination of different 
 circumftances which my prefent fubject does not 
 lead me to inveftigate particularly.* lam perfuad- 
 €d, however, that it arifes, in part, from our fur- 
 prife at the Poet's habits of aflbciation, which enable 
 him to convey his thoughts with eafe and beauty, 
 notwithftanding the narrow limits within which his 
 choice of expreftion is confined. One proof of this 
 is, that if there appear any mark of conftraint, eith- 
 er in the ideas or in the exprefTion, our pleafure is 
 proportionally diminiflied. The thoughts muft 
 feem to fuggeft each other, and the rhymes to be only 
 an accidental circumflance. The fame remark may 
 
 • In Elegiac poetry, the recurrence of the same sound, and the 
 un;formity in the structure of the vt-rbification which thisneces- 
 t^arily occasions, are peculiarly suited to the inactivity of the mind, 
 and to the slow and equable siccebsion of its ideas, when under 
 the influence of tender or melancholy passions ; and, accordingly, 
 in such cases, even the La*in jwets, though the genius of their 
 language be vtry ill fitted for compositions in rhyme, occasionally 
 indulge themselves in something very nearly approaching to it. 
 
 ** Memnona si mater mater pioravit Achillem, 
 " Et tangant roagnas tristia fata DeiiS ; 
 *' Flebilis indignos Elegeia solve capHIos, 
 '' Ah nimis ex verouunc tibi nomen erit." 
 
 Ivlany other instances of the same kiud might be produced frwn 
 Elegiac verse? of Ovid and Tib«jllo9; 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 273 
 
 be made on the meafure of the verfe. When in its 
 greateft perfection, it does not appear to be the re- 
 fult of labor, but to be dictated by nature, or 
 prompted by infpiration. In Pope's bed verfes, the 
 idea is exprefled with as little inverfion of ftyle, and 
 with as much concifenefs, precifion, and propriety, 
 as the author could have attained, had he been writ- 
 ing profe : without any apparent exertion on his 
 part, the words feem fpontaneouily to arrange 
 themfelves in the moil mufical numbers. 
 
 " While still a child, nor yet a fool to fame, 
 '* 1 lisp'd in numbers, for the numbers came.'* 
 
 This facility of verfification, it is true, may be, and 
 probably is, in mod cafes, only apparent : and it 
 is reafonable to think, that in the moll perfedl poet- 
 ical productions, not only the choice of w^ords, but 
 the choice of ideas, is influenced by the rhymes. — 
 In a profe compofition, the author holds on in a di- 
 rect courfe, according to the plan he has previoufly 
 formed ; but in a poem, the rhymes which occur 
 to him are perpetually diverting him to the right 
 hand or to the left, by fuggefting ideas which do 
 not naturally rife out of his fubjecl. This, I pre- 
 fume, 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 cafe in facl, the Foet 
 mufl employ all his art to conceal it : infomuch that, 
 if he finds himfelf under the neceflity to introduce,on 
 account of the rhymes, a fuperfluous idea, or an 
 awkward exprefGon, he mud place it in the firfl 
 line of the couplet, and not in the fecond ; for the 
 reader, naturally prefuming that the lines were com- 
 pofed in the order in which the author arranges 
 L L 
 
374 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 / 
 
 thetn^ is more apt to fufpe^l the fecond line to be ac- 
 commodated to the firft, than the firft to the fecond. 
 And this flight artifice is, in general, fufilcient to 
 impofe on that degree of attention with which poe- 
 try is read. Who can doubt that, in the follow- 
 ing lines, Pope wrote the firft for the fake of the 
 fecond I 
 
 " A wit's a feather, and a chief a rod ; 
 
 « An honest man's the noblest work of God." 
 
 Were the firfi: of thefe lines, or a line equally un- 
 meaning, placed laft, the couplet would have ap- 
 peared execrable to a perfon of the moft moderate 
 tafte. 
 
 It affords a ftrong confirmation of the foregoing 
 obfervations, that the Poets of fome nations have de- 
 lighted in the pradice of alliteration, as well as of 
 rhyme, and have even confidered it as an effential 
 circumftance in verfification. Dr. Beattie obferves, 
 that " fome antient Englifli poems are more diftin- 
 " guifhed 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 fort of anapeftic meafure, it feems to have 
 " been a rule, that three words, at leaft, of each line 
 " fhould begin with the fame letter." A late author 
 informs us, that, in the Icelandic poetry, aUiteration 
 is confidered as a circumfi:ance no lefs effential than 
 rhyme.* He mentions alfo feveral other reftraints, 
 which muft add wonderfully to the difficulty of ver- 
 fification y and whicli" appear to us to be perfedly 
 
 * '* 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 hemis* 
 " ticks, of which every one contiiined six syllables ; and it was 
 ** not allowed to augment this number, except in cases of th*j 
 *' greatest necessity." See Van Troil's Letters^n Iceland, p. 2C8> 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 275 
 
 Arbitrary and capricious. If that really be the cafe, 
 the whole pleafure of the reader or hearer arifes 
 from his furprife at the facility of the Poet's compo- 
 lition under thefe complicated reftraints ; that is, 
 from his furprife at the command which the Poet has 
 acquired over his thoughts and expreflions. In our 
 rhyme, I acknowledge, that the coincidence of found 
 iS agreeable in itfelf ; and only aiErm, that the plea- 
 fure which the ear receives from it, is heightened by 
 the other coniideration. 
 
 III. OfPoeUcal Fancy, 
 
 Tfiere is another habit of aflbciation, which, in 
 fome men, is very remarkable ; that which is the 
 foundation of Poetical Fancy : a talent which agrees 
 with Wit in fome circumftances, but which differs 
 from it eifentially in others. 
 
 The pleafure we receive from Wit, agrees in one 
 particular with th^ pleafure which arifes from poet- 
 ical allufions ; that in both cafes we are pleafed 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 allufion can, with propriety, 
 have a place in ferious poetry, unlefs it either illuf- 
 trate or adorn the principal fubjecl. If it has both 
 thefe recommendations, the allufion is perfe<fl. If 
 it has neither, as is often the cafe with the allufions 
 of Cowley and of Young, the Fancy of the Poet de» 
 generates into Wit. 
 
 If the obfervations be well-founded, they fugged 
 a rule with refpedl to poetical allufions, which has 
 not always been fufficiently attended to. It frequent- 
 ly happens, that two fubjects bear an analogy to each 
 
 *I speak here of pure and unmixed wit, and not of wit, blended, 
 »s it is most commonly, with some degree ot humor. 
 
276 ELEMENTS OF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Other in more refpeds than one ; and where fuch 
 can be found, they undoubtedly furnifli the moil 
 favorable of all occafions tor the difplay of Wit. — 
 But in ferious poetry, I am inclined to think, that 
 however ftriking thefe analogies may be ; and al- 
 though each of them might, with propriety, be 
 made the foundation of a fepr^rate allufion ; it is im- 
 proper, in the courfe of the fame allufion, to include 
 more than one of them ; as, by doing fo, an author 
 difcovers an afFedlation of Wit, or a defire of tracing 
 analogies, inftead of illuftrating or adorning the fub- 
 jed of his compofition, 
 
 I formerly defined Fancy to be a power of aflbci- 
 ating ideas according to relations of refemblance and 
 analogy. This definition will probably be thought 
 too general ; and to approach too near to that given 
 of Wit. In order to difcover the necelTary limita- 
 tions, we fhall confider what the circumftances are, 
 which pleafe us in poetical allufions. As thefe allu- 
 fions are fuggefted by Fancy, and are the moft ftrik- 
 ing inftances in which it difplays itfelf, the received 
 rules of Critics with refpe<El to them, may throw 
 fome light on the meiital power which gives them 
 birth. 
 
 1. An allufion pleafes, by illuftrating a fubjed: 
 comparatively obfcure. Hence, I apprehend, it will 
 be found, that allufions from the intellectual world 
 to the material, are more pleafing, than from the 
 material world to the intelleflual. Mafon, in his 
 Ode to Memory, compares the influence of that fac- 
 ulty over our ideas, to the authority of a general 
 over his troops : 
 
 _^— ""thou, whose sway 
 ** The throng'd idea! hosts obey ; 
 " Who bidst their'ranks now^ vanish, now appear, 
 " Flame in the van, or darken in the rear." 
 
 Would the allufion have been equally pleafing, from 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 277 
 
 ii general marfhalling his foldiers, to Memory and 
 the fucceflion of ideas ? 
 
 The efFecl of a literal and fpiritlefs tranflation of a 
 work of genius, has been compared to that of the 
 figures which we fee, when we look at the wrong 
 fide of a beautiful piece of tapeftry. The allufion is 
 ingenious and happy ; but the pieafure which we 
 receive from it arifes, not merely from the analogy 
 which it prefents to us, but from the iiluflraiion 
 which it affords of the author's idea. No one, fure- 
 ly, in fpeaking of a piece of tapeftry, would think 
 of comparing the difference between its fides, to 
 that. between an original compofition and a literal 
 tranllation ! 
 
 Cicero, and after him Mr. Locke, in illuftrating 
 the difficulty of attending to the fubjeds of our con- 
 fcioufnefs, have compared the mind to the Eye, 
 which fees every objecl around it, but is invifible to 
 itfelf. To have compared the Eye, in this refpecl, 
 to the Mind, would have been abfurd. 
 
 Mr. Pope's comparifon of the progrefs of youth- 
 ful curiofity, in the purfuits of fcience, to that of a 
 traveller among the Alps, has been much, and juftiy, 
 admired. How would the beauty of the allufion 
 have been diminiflied, if the Alps had furnifhed the 
 original fubjed:, and not the illuilration ! 
 
 But although this rule holds, in general, I ac- 
 knowledge, that inftances may be produced, from 
 our moft celebrated poetical performances, of allu- 
 fions from material objecfs, both to the intelleclual 
 and the moral worlds. Thefe, however, are com- 
 paratively few in number, and are not to be found 
 in defcriptive or in didactic works ; but in compo- 
 fitions written under the influence of fome particu- 
 lar paflion, or which are meant to exprefs fome pe- 
 culiarity in the mind of the author. Thus, a melan- 
 choly man, who has met with many misfortunes in 
 life, will be apt to moralize on every phyfical event, 
 
278 ELEMENTS OF THE PrilLOSOPHV 
 
 and every appearance of nature ; becaufe his atten- 
 tion dwells more habitually on human life and con- 
 duel, than on the material objects around him. Ihis 
 is the cafe with the banifhed Duke, in Shakefpeare'B 
 As you like it, who, in the language of that Poet, 
 
 " Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, 
 *' Sermons in stones, and good in every thing." 
 
 But this is plainly a diftempered flate of the mind ; 
 and the allulions pleafe, not fo much by the analo- 
 gies they prefent, as by the picture they give of the 
 character of the perfon to whom they have oc- 
 curred. 
 
 2. An allufion pleafes, by prefenting a new and 
 beautiful image to the mind. The analogy or the 
 refemblance between this image and the principal 
 fubjed, is agreeable of itfelf, and is indeed neceflary 
 to furnifli an apology for the tranfition which the 
 writer makes ; but the pleafure is wonderfully height- 
 ened, when the new image thus prefented is a beau- 
 tiful one. The following allufion, in one of Mr. 
 Home's tragedies, appears to me to unite almoft 
 €very excellence : 
 
 " 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 on- 
 ly between light and hope, and between darknefs 
 and fear ; but between the rapid fucccfiion of light 
 and ftiade, and the momentary influences of thefe 
 oppofite emotions : and, at the Lime time, the new 
 image which is prefented to us, is one of the moft 
 beautiful and ftriking in nature. 
 
 The foregoing observations fuggeft a reafon why 
 the principal ftores of Fancy are commonly fuppofed 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 279 
 
 to be borrowed from the material world. Wit has 
 a m*)re extenfive province, and delights to make new 
 combinations, whatever be the nature of the com- 
 pared ideas : but the favorite excurfions of Fancy, 
 are from intelleclual and moral fubjeds tn the ap- 
 pearances with which our fenfes are converfant. 
 The truth is, that fuch allufions pleafe more than any 
 others in poetry. According to this limited idea of 
 Fancy, it prefuppofes, where it is pofTelfed in an emi- 
 nent degree, an extenlive obfervation of natural ob- 
 jects, and a mind fufceptible of ftrong impreflions 
 from them. It is thus only that a ilock of images can 
 be acquired ; and that thefe images will be ready to 
 prefent themfelves, whenever any analogous fubject 
 occurs. And hence probably it is, that poetical genius 
 is almoft always united with an exquilite fenfiibiTity to 
 the beauties of nature. 
 
 Before leaving the fubje6l of fancy,, it may not be 
 improper to remark, that its two qualities are, liveli- 
 nefs and luxuriancy. The word lively refers to the 
 quicknefs of the aflbciation. The word rich or luxu- 
 riant to the variety of alTociated ideas. 
 
 IV. Of Invention in the Arts and Sciences, 
 
 To Thefe powers of Wit and Fancy, that of Inven- 
 tion in the Arts and Sciences has a ftriking refem- 
 blance. Like them it implies a command over cer- 
 tain clafTes of ideas, which, in ordinary men are not: 
 equally fubject to the will : and like them, too, it \i] 
 the refult of acquired habits, and not the original gift 
 of nature. 
 
 Of the procefs of the mind in fcicntific invention, 
 I propofe afterwards to treat fully, under the article 
 of Reafoning ; and I fliall therefore confine myfelf 
 at prefent to a few detached remarks upon lome 
 views of the fubjecl which are fuggctled by the fore- 
 going inquiries. 
 
■2S0 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 Before we proceed, it may be proper to take no* 
 tice of the diitinclion between Invention and Difco- 
 very. The objecl of the former, as has been fre- 
 quently remarked, is to produce fomething which 
 had no exigence before ; that of the latter, to bring 
 to light fomething which did exift, but which was 
 concealed from com.mon obfervation. Thus we lay. 
 Otto Guerricke invented the air-pump ; Sarictorius 
 invented the thermometer ; Newton and Gregory 
 invented the reflecting telefcope : Galileo difcover- 
 ed the folar fpots ; and Harvey difcovered the circu- 
 lation of the blood. It appears, therefore, that im- 
 provements in the Arts are properly called inventions ; 
 and that fads brought to hght by means of obferva- 
 tion, are properly called dif cover ies. 
 
 Agreeable to this analogy, is the ufe which we 
 make of thefe words, when we apply them to lub- 
 jeds purely intellectual. As truth is eternal and im- 
 mutable, and has no dependence on our belief or 
 difbelief of it, a perfon who brings to light a truth 
 formerly unknown, is faid to make a difcovery. A 
 perfon, on the other hand, who contrives a new 
 method of difcovering truth, is called an inventor. 
 Phythagoras, we fay, difcovered the forty-feventh 
 propofition of Euclid's firfl book ; Newton difcov- 
 ered the binomial theorem ; but he invented the 
 method of prime and ultimate ratios : and he inven- 
 ted the method of fluxions. 
 
 In general, every aavancement in knowledge is 
 conddered as a difcovery ; every contrivance by 
 which we produce an eifect, or accomplilh an end, is 
 confidered as an invention. Difcoveries in fcience, 
 therefore, unlefs they are made by accident, imply 
 the exercife of invention ; and, accordingly, the 
 word invention is commonly ufed to exprefs origin- 
 ality of genius in the Sciences, as well as in the Arts. 
 It is in this general fenfe that I employ it in the fol* 
 lowing obfervatiofis. 
 
 \ 
 
OF THfi HUMAN MIND» 231 
 
 tt was before remarked, that in every inftance of 
 invention, there is fome new idea, or fome new com- 
 bination of ideas, which is brought to light by the 
 inventor ; and that, although this may fometime.'? 
 happen, in a way which he is unable to explain, yet 
 when a man poffeiTes an habitual fertility of inven- 
 tion in any particular Art or Science, and can rely, 
 with confidence, on his inventive powers, whenever 
 he is called upon to exert them ; he mufl have ac- 
 quired, by previous habits of ftudy, a command over 
 thofe clalfes of his ideas, which are fubfervient to the 
 particular effort that he wifhes to make. In what 
 manner this command is acquired, it is not pofllble, 
 perhaps, to explain completely ; but it appears to me 
 to be chiefly in the two following ways* In the firft 
 place, by his habits of fpeculation, he may have ar- 
 ranged his knowledge in fuch a manner as may ren- 
 der it eafy for him to combine, at pleafure, all the 
 various ideas in his mind, which have any relation 
 to the fubjed about which he is occupied : or, fe- 
 condly, he may have learned by experience, certain 
 general rules, by means of which, he can direct the 
 train of his thoughts into thofe channels in which the 
 ideas he is in queft of may be moft likely to occur 
 to him. 
 
 I. The former of thefe obfervations, I Ihall not 
 ftop to illudrate particularly, at prefent ; as the fame 
 fubjeft will occur afterwards, under the article of 
 Memory. It is fufficient for my purpofe, in thif? 
 chapter, to remark, that as habits of fpeculation have 
 a tendency to claflify our ideas, by leading us to re- 
 fer particular fads and particular truths to general 
 principles ; and as it is from an approximation and 
 comparifon of related ideas, that new difcoveries in 
 moft inftances refult ; the knowledge of the philofo- 
 pher, even fuppofing that it is not more extenfive, i$ 
 arranged in a manner much more favorable to in- 
 vention, than in a mind unaccuftomed to fyftem. 
 Mm 
 
282 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 How much invention depends on a proper combi- 
 nation of the materials of our knowledge, appears 
 from the refources which occur to men of the loweft 
 degree of ingenuity, when they are prefled by any 
 alarming difficulty and danger ; and from the unex- 
 pected exertions made by very ordinary characters, 
 when called to lituations which roufe their latent 
 powers. In fuch cafes, I take for granted, that ne- 
 ceffity operates in producing invention, chiefly by 
 concentrating the attention of the mind to one fet of 
 ideas ; by leading us to view thefe in every light, and 
 to combine them varioufly with each other. As the 
 fame idea may be connected with an infinite variety 
 of others by different relations ; it may, according 
 to circumflances, at one time, fuggefl one of thefe 
 ideas, and, at another time, a different one. When 
 we dwell long on the fame idea, we obtain all the 
 others to which it is any way related, and thus are 
 furnifhed with materials on which our powers of 
 judgment and reafoning may be employed. The ef- 
 fect of the divifion of labor, in multiplying mechan- 
 ical contrivances, is to be explained partly on the 
 fame principle. It limits the attention to a particu- 
 lar fubject, and familiarifes to the mind all the pofli- 
 ble combinations of ideas which have any relation 
 to it. 
 
 Thefe obfervations fuggeft a remarkable diflference 
 between Invention and Wit. The former depends, 
 in mofl inflances, on a combination of thofe ideas, 
 which are connected by the lefs obvious principles 
 of affociation ; and it may be called forth in almoft 
 any mind by the prefTure of external circumflances. 
 The ideas which mufl be combined, in order to pro- 
 duce the latter, are chiefly fuch as are affociated by 
 thofe llighter connexions which take place when the 
 mind is carelefs and difengaged. " If you have real 
 '^ wit," fays Lord Cheflerfield, " it will flow fponta- 
 ** neoufly, and you need not aim at it , for in that 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINB. 283 
 
 " cafe, the rule of the gofpel is reverfed ; and it will 
 ** prove, feek and you fhail not find" Agreeably 
 to this obfervation, wit is promoted by a certain de- 
 gree of intoxication, which prevents the exercife of 
 that attention, which is necelTary for invention in 
 matters of Science. Hence too it is, that thofe who 
 have the reputation of Wits, are commonly men 
 confident in their own powers, v/ho allow the train 
 of their ideas to follow in a great meafure, its natural 
 courfe ; and hazard, in company, every thing, good 
 or bad, that occurs to them. Men of modelly and 
 tafte feldom attempt wit in a promifcuous fociety ; 
 or if they are forced to make fuch an exertion, they 
 are feldom fuccefsful. Such men, however, in the 
 circle of their friends, to whom they can unbofom 
 themfelves without referve, are frequently the moft 
 amufing and the moft interefting of companions ; as 
 the vivacity of their wit is tempered by a correct 
 judgment, and refined manners ; and as its effed: is 
 heightened by that fenfibility and delicacy, with 
 which we fo rarely find it accompanied in the com- 
 mon intercourfe of life. 
 
 When a man of wit makes an exertion to diftin- 
 guifli hiii^felf, his fallies are commonly too far fetch- 
 ed to pleafe. He brings his mind into a Hate ap- 
 proaching to that of the inventor, and becomes rath- 
 er ingenious than witty. This is often the cafe with 
 the writers whom Johnfon diftinguifhes by the nam« 
 of the Metaphyfical Poets. 
 
 Thofe powers of invention, which neceffity occa- 
 iionally calls forth in uncultivated minds, fome indi- 
 viduals poflefs habitually. The related ideas which, 
 in the cale of the former, are brought together by 
 the flow eiForti of attention and rccolleclion, prefent 
 themfelves to the latter, in confequence of a more 
 fyftematical arrangement of their knowledge. The 
 inftantaneoufnefs with which fuch remote combina- 
 tions are effected, fometimcs appear fo wonderful. 
 
'^S4i rL£MENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 that we arc apt to afcribe it to fomething like infpi- 
 ration ; bvit it muil be remembered, that when any 
 fubjcd llvongly and habitually occupies the thoughts, 
 it gives i:;; ;iii iiitereft in the obfervation of the moft 
 trivial cirtun^liance which we fufpecl to have any re- 
 lation to ir, however diftant ; and by thus render- 
 ing the couiiiion objedls and occurrences which the 
 accidents of life prefent to us, fubi'ervient to one par- 
 ticular employment of the intelledual powers, eftab- 
 lifhes in the rjeniory a connection between our fa- 
 vorite puriuit, raid all the materials with which expe- 
 rience and reficdlion have fupplied us for the farther 
 profecution of it. 
 
 II. I obferved, in the fecond place, that invention 
 may be facilitated by general rules, which enable the 
 inventor to dired the train of his thoughts into par- 
 ticular channels. Thefe rules (to afcertain which, 
 ought to be one principal object of the logician) will 
 afterwards fall under my consideration, when \ come 
 to exam.ine thofe intellectual procelTes which are fub- 
 fervient to the difcovery of truth. At prefent, I 
 Ihall confine mylelf to a few general remarks ; in 
 flating which, I have no other aim than to fhew, to 
 how great a degree invention depends on cultivation 
 and habit, even in thofe fciences in which it is gen- 
 erally fuppofed, that every thing depends on natural 
 genius. 
 
 When we confider the geometrical difcoveries of 
 the ancients, in the form in which they are exhibit- 
 ed in the greater pirt of the works which have fur- 
 vived to our times,it is feldom poflible for us to trace 
 the fteps by which they were led to their conclu- 
 :fions : and, indeed, the objecls of this fcience are {o 
 unlike thofe of all others, that it is not unnatural for 
 a perfon who enters on the ftudy, to be dazzled by 
 its novelty, and to form an exaggerated conception 
 of the genius of thofe men who firft brought to 
 light fuch a variety of truths, fo profound and fo 
 
GF THE HUMAN MIND. 2S5 
 
 remote from the ordinary courfe oFour fpeculations. 
 We find, however, that even at the time when the 
 ancient analyfis was unknown to the moderns ; fuch 
 mathematicians as had attended to the progrefs of 
 the mind in the difcovery of truth, concluded a pri- 
 ori^ that the difcoveries of the Greek geometers did 
 not, at firft, occur to them in the order in which 
 they are ftated in their writings. The prevailing 
 opinion was, that they had been polIclTed oi fome 
 fecret method of inveftigation, which they carefully 
 concealed from the vvorld ; and that they publifhed 
 the r.efult of their labors in fuch a form, as they 
 thought would be moft likely to excite the admira- 
 tion of their readers. " O quam bene foret," fays 
 Petrtis Nonius^ " fi qui in fcientiis mathematicisfcrip- 
 ** ferint authores, fcripta reliquiiTent inventa fua 
 *'eadem methodo, et per eofdem difcurfus, quibus ip- 
 " ii in ea primum inciderunt ; et non, ut in mecha- 
 " nica loquitur Ariftoteles de artificibus, qui nobis 
 ** foris oftendunt fuasquas fecerint machinas, fed ar- 
 *' tificium abfcondunt, ut magisappareantadmirabi- 
 *' les. Eft utique inventio in arte qualibet diverfa 
 " multum a traditione : neque putandum eft pluri- 
 •^' mas Euclidis et ArchimedispropofitionesfuliTe ab 
 " illis ea via inventas qua nobis iili ipfas tradide- 
 ** runt "* The revival of the ancient analyfis, by 
 fome late mathematicians in this country, has, in 
 part, juftified thefe remarks, by Ihewing to how 
 great a degree the inventive power of the Greek 
 geometers were aided by that method of inveftiga- 
 tion ; and by exhibiting fome ftriking fpecimens of 
 addrefs in the practical application of it. 
 
 The folution of problems, indeed, it may be faid, 
 is but one mode in which mathematical invention 
 
 * See some other passages to the same ' purpose, quoted from dif- 
 ferent .vriters, by Dr. Simpson, in the preface to his Restoration 
 of the Loci Plaiji of AppoHonius Pergaaus, Glasg. 1749* 
 
^86 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 may be difpiayed. The difcovery of new truths j« 
 what we chiefly admire in an original genius ; and 
 the method of analyfis gives us no fatisfadion with 
 refpe<^ to the procefs by which they are obtained. 
 
 To remove this difficulty completely, by explain- 
 ing all the various ways in which new theorems may 
 be broijght to light, would lead to inquiries foreign 
 to this work. In order, however, to render the pro- 
 cefs of the mind, on fuch occafions, a litde lefs myf- 
 terious than it is commonly fuppofed to be : it may 
 be proper to remark, that the moft copious fource 
 of difcoveries is the inveftigation of problems ; 
 which feldom fails (even although we lliouid not fuc- 
 ceed in the attainment of the object which we have 
 in view) to exhibit to us fome relations formerly un- 
 obferved among the quantities which are under 
 confideration. Of fo great importance is it to con- 
 centrate the attention to a particular lubjeft, and 
 to check that wandering and diflipated habit of 
 thought, which, in the cafe of moft perfons, renders 
 their fpeculations barren of any profit either to them- 
 felves or to others. Many theorems, too, have been 
 fuggefted by analogy ; many have been inveftigated 
 from truths formerly known by altering or by gen- 
 eralifmg the hypothefis ; and rrany have been ob- 
 tained by afpecies of induction. An illufiration of 
 thefe various procefles of the mind would not only 
 lead to new and curious remarks, but would con- 
 tribute to diminifli that blind admiration of original 
 genius, which is one of the chief obftacles to the 
 improvement of fcience. v 
 
 The hiftory of natural philofophy, before and after 
 the time of Lord Bacon, affords another very ftrik- 
 ing proof, how much the powers of invention and 
 difcovery may be affifted by the ftudy of method ; 
 and in all the fciences, without exception, whoever 
 employs his genius with a regular and habitual fuc- 
 cefs, plainly Ihews, that it is by means of general m 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 28^ 
 
 rules that his inquiries are conducled. Of thefe 
 rules, there may be many which the inventor never 
 ftated to himfelf in words ; and, perhaps, he may 
 even be unconfcious of the alliftance which he de- 
 rives from them ; but their influence on his genius 
 appears unqueftionably from the uniformity with 
 which it proceeds ; and in proportion as they can be 
 afcertained by his own fpeculations, or collected by 
 the logician from an examination of his refearches, 
 iimilar powers of invention will be placed within 
 the reach of other men, who apply themfelves to the 
 fame ftudy. 
 
 The following remarks, which a truly philofoph- 
 ical artift has applied to painting, may be extended, 
 with fome trifling alterations, to all the different 
 employments of our intelledual powers. 
 
 '' What we now call genius, begins, not where 
 " rules, abftra£lly tjtken, end ; but where known, 
 *' vulgar, and trite rules have no longer any place. — 
 " It muft of neceflity be, that works of genius, as 
 " well as every other effe<i, as it muft have its caufe, 
 '' muft likewife have its rules ; it cannot be by 
 *' chance, that excellencies are produced witfa any 
 " conftancy, or any certainty, for this is not thena- 
 " ture of chance ; but the rules by which men of 
 *' extraordinary parts, and fuch as are called men of 
 " genius, work, are either fuch as they difcover by 
 ** their own peculiar obfervation, or of fuch a nice 
 " texture as not eafily to admit handling or exprefl- 
 '' ing in words. 
 
 " Unfubftantial, however, as thefe rules may feem, 
 " and difiicult as it may be to convey them in writ- 
 " ing, they are ftill feen and felt in the mind of the 
 " artift ; and he works from them with as much cer- 
 " tainty, as if they were embodied, as I may fay, 
 " upon paper. It is true, thefe refined principles 
 " cannot be always made palpable, like the more 
 " grofs rules of Art ; yet it does not follow, but that 
 
288 ELEMENTS OF TH^ PHILOSOt^HY 
 
 " the mind may be put in fuch a train, that It fhall 
 *' perceive, by a kind of fcientific fenfe, that propri- 
 " ety, which words can but very feebly fuggeft."* 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 JppUcation of the Principles fiaied in the foregoing Sec- 
 tions of this Chapter^ to explain the Phenomena cf 
 Dreaming. 
 
 WITH refpect to the Phenomena of Dreaming, 
 three different queftions may be propofed. I'irlt : 
 What is the ftate of the mind in fleep ? or, in other 
 words, what faculties then continue to operate, and 
 w^hat faculties are then fufpended ? Secondly ; how 
 far do our dreams appear to be influenced by our 
 bodily fenfations ; and in what refpeds do they vary, 
 according to the different conditions of the body in 
 health, and in ficknefs ? Thirdly ; virhat is the change 
 which fieep produces on thofe parts of the hody^ with 
 which our mental operations are more immediately 
 conneded ; and how does this change operate, in di- 
 verifying, fo remarka'Ty, the phenomena which cur 
 rfiinds then exhibit, from thofe of which we are con- 
 fcious in our waking hours? Of thefe three quef- 
 tions, the firfl belongs to the philofophy of the Hu- 
 man Mind ; and it is to this queftion that the fol- 
 lowing inquiry is almofi: entirely confined. The fec- 
 ond is more particularly interefting to tlie medical 
 inquirer, and does not properly fall under the plan of 
 this work. The third feems to me to relate to a fub- 
 je6V, which is placed beyond the reach of the human 
 faculties. 
 
 It will be granted, that, if we could afcertain the 
 flate of the mind in lleep, fo as to be able to relblve 
 
 * Discourses by Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 289 
 
 llie various phenomena of dreaming into a fmalle'r 
 number of general principles ; and ftill more, if we 
 could refolve them into one general facl ; we fliould 
 be advanced a very important (lep in our enquiries 
 upon this fubjecl ; even although we fhould lind it 
 impollible to ihew, in what manner this change in 
 the ftate of the mind refults from the change which 
 fleep produces in the ilate of the body. Such a ilep 
 would at leaft gratify, ro a certain extent, that difpo- 
 fition of our nature which prompts us to afcend from 
 particular fads to general laws ; and which is the 
 foundation of all our philofophical refearches ; and, 
 in the prefent inftance, I am inclined to think, that 
 it carries us as far as our imperfedi faculties enable 
 us to proceed. 
 
 In conducting this inquiry with refpecl to the ftate 
 of the mind in fleep, it feems reafonable to expect, 
 that fome light may be obtained from an examina- 
 tion of the circumltances which accelerate or retard 
 its approach ; for when we are difpofed to reft, it is 
 natural to imagine, that the ftate of the mind ap- 
 proaches to its ftate in fleep, more nearly, than when 
 we feel ourfelves alive and aftive, and capable of ap- 
 plying all our various faculties to their proper pur- 
 pofes. 
 
 In general it may be remarked, that the approach 
 of fleep is accelerated by every circumflance which 
 dioiiniflies or sufpends the exercile of the mental 
 powers ; and is retarded by every thing which has 
 a contrary tendency. When we wifli for fleep, we 
 naturally endeavor to withhold, as much as poflible, 
 all the active exertions of the mind, by difengaging 
 our attention from every interefting fubjed: of 
 thought. When w^e are difpofed to keep awake, we 
 naturally fix our attention on fome fubjccl which is 
 caicQiated to afibrd employment to our inteiledlual 
 powers, or to roufe and exercife the acUve principles 
 of our nature. 
 
 N N 
 
290 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 It is well known, that there is a particular clafs 
 of founds which compofe us to lleep. The hum of 
 bees ; the murmur of af(^untain ; the reading of an 
 uninterefting difcourfe ; have this tendency in a re- 
 markable degree. If we examine this clafs of founds, 
 we fliali find that it confirts wholly of fuch as are fit- 
 ted to withdraw the attention of the mind from its 
 own thoughts ; and are, at the lame time, not 
 fufficiently interefting to engage its attention to 
 themfelves. 
 
 It is alfo matter of common obfervation, that chil- 
 dren andperfons of little rcfle^lion, who are chiefly 
 occupied about fenfible objects, and whofe mental 
 at^ivity is, in a great mealure, fufpended, as foon as 
 their perceptive powers are unemployed ; find it ex- 
 tremely difficult to continue awake, when they are 
 deprived of their ufual engagements. The fame 
 thing has been remarked of favages, whofe time, 
 like that of the lower animals, is almoft completely 
 divided between fleep and their bodily exertions.* 
 
 From a confideration of thefe facls, it feems rea- 
 fonable to conclude, that in fleep thofe operations of 
 the mind are fufpended, which depend on our voli- 
 tion ; for if it be certain, that before we fall afleep, 
 we muft withhold, as much as we are able, the ex- 
 ercife of all our different powers ; it is fcarcely to be 
 imagined, that, as foon as fleep commences, thefe 
 powers fliould again begin to be exerted. The mjore 
 probable concluiion is, that when we are defirous^ 
 to procure fleep, we bring both mind and body, as 
 nearly as we can, into that ftate in which they are 
 to continue after fleep commences. The difference, , 
 
 ♦ " 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 labor. An animal whose 
 " body is at rest, and who does not reflect, must be disposed to ! 
 " sleep of course." Noies- on Firglnia, by Mr. Jerekson, p. 255-, 
 
 ^i 
 
OF THE HUMAN .MIND. 291 
 
 therefore, between the ftate of the mind when we 
 are inviting fleep, and when we are adually aileep, 
 is this ; that in the former cafe, although its adive 
 exertions be fufpended, we can renew them, if we 
 pleafe. In the other cafe, the will lofes its influence 
 over all our powers both of mird and body ; in con- 
 fequence of fome phyfical alteration in the fyflem, 
 which we Ihall never, probably, be able to ex- 
 plain. 
 
 In order to illuftrate this conclufion a little farth- 
 er, it may be proper to remark, that if the fufpen- 
 fion of our voluntary operations in fleep be admitted 
 as a fact, there are only two fuppofitions which can 
 be formed concerning its caufe. The one is, that the 
 power of volition is fufpended ; the other, that the 
 win lofes its influence over thofe faculties of the mind, 
 and thofe members of the body, which, during our 
 waking hours, are fubjeded to its authority. If it 
 can be fhewn, then, that the former fuppofition is not 
 agreeable to fad, the truth of th^ latter feems to fol- 
 low as a neceflary confequence. 
 
 1. That the power of volition is not fufpended 
 duringfieep, appears from the efl'orts which we are 
 confcious of makincr while in that fituation. We 
 
 o 
 
 dream, for example, that we are in danger ; and we 
 attempt to call out for afliftance. The attempt, in- 
 deed, is, in general, unfuccefsful ; and the founds 
 which we emit, are feeble and indiftincl ; but this 
 only confirms, or, rather, is a neceffary confequence 
 of the fuppofition, that, in fleep, the connexion be- 
 tween the will and our voluntary operations, is dis- 
 turbed, or interrupted. The continuai.ce of the 
 power of volition is demonftrated by the eflbrt, how- 
 ever ineffe<5^ual. 
 
 In hke manner, in the courfe of an alarming 
 dream,vve are fometimes confcious of making an ex- 
 ertion to lave ourlelvesj by flight, frc^m an apprehend- 
 ed danger ; but in Ijpite of all cur efforts, we contin- 
 
2D2 liLEMJSNTS OF TH2 PHILOSOPHY 
 
 uein bed. In fuch cafes, we commonly dream, that 
 wc aire attempting to efcape, and are prevented by 
 fome external obliacle ; but the facl feems to be, 
 that the body is, at that time, not fubject to the will. 
 Daring the diflurbed reft which we fometimes have 
 when the body is indifpofed, the mind appears to 
 retain lbm,e pov/er over it ; but as, even' in thefe 
 cafes, the motions which are made, coniift rather of 
 a general agitation of the v;^hole fyflem, than of the 
 regular exertion of a particular member of it, with 
 a view to produce a certain effect ; it is reafonable 
 to conclude, that, in perfectly found fleep, the 
 mind, although it retains the power of volition, re- 
 tains no inliuence whatever over the bodily organs. 
 
 In that particular condition of the fyftem, which 
 is known by the name oi incubus^ we are cqnfcious of 
 a total want of power over the body : and, I be- 
 lieve, the common opinion is, that it is this want of 
 power whicli diftinguifhes the incuka from all the 
 other modifications >of ileep. But the more probable 
 fuppoflrion feems to be, that every fpecies of fleep is 
 accompanied with a fufpenfion of the faculty of vol- 
 untary motion ; and that the incubus has nothing pe- 
 culiar in it but this, that the uneaiy fenfations which 
 areproduced by the accidental pofiure of the body^ 
 and which we find it impoffible to remove by our 
 own efforts, render us diftincliy confcious of our in-- 
 capacity to move. One thing is certain, that the 
 inflant of our awaking, and of our recovering the 
 command of our bodily organs, is one and the 
 fame. 
 
 2. The lame conclufion is confirmed by a differ- 
 ent view of the fubjecl. It is probable, as was aU 
 ready obferved, that when we are anxious to pro^ 
 cure fleep, the ftate into which we naturally bring 
 the mind, approaches to its ftate after fleep commen- 
 ces. Now it is nianifeft, that the means which na* 
 ture directs us to employ on fuch occafions, is net to 
 
Of THE HUMAN MINlf. 293 
 
 fufpend the power of volition, but to fufpend the ex- 
 ertion of thofe powers whofe exercife depends on 
 volition. If it were necefTary that volition fliould 
 be fufpended before we fall afleep, it would be im- 
 poiUbie for us, by our own efforts, to halten the mo- 
 ment of reft. The very fuppolition of fuch eftbrts 
 is abfurd ; for it implies a continued will to fupend 
 the ads of the will. 
 
 , According to the foregoing do<5lrine with refpe^t 
 to the ftate of the mind in lleep, the effecl which is 
 produced on our mental operations. Is ftrikingly an- 
 alogous to that which is produced on our bodily 
 powers. From the obfervations which have been 
 already made, it is manifeft, that in fleep, the body is, 
 in a very inconfiderable degree, if at ail, fubjedl to 
 our command. The vital and involuntary motions, 
 however, fufter no interruption, but go on as when 
 we are awake, in confequence of the operation of 
 fome caufe unknown to us. In Hke manner, it would 
 appear, that thofe operations of the mind which de- 
 pend on our volition are fufpended ; while certain 
 other operations are, at leaft, occalionally, carried 
 on. This analogy naturally fuggefts the idea, that 
 all our mental operations, which are independent of 
 our will, may continue during fleep ; and that the 
 phenomena of dreaming may, perhaps, be produced 
 by thefe, diveriified in their apparent effedls, in con- 
 fequence of the fufpenfion of our voluntary pov.ers. 
 
 If the appearances which the mind exhibits during 
 fleep, are found to be explicable on this general 
 principle, it will pollefs all the evidence which the 
 nature of the fubjecf admits of. 
 
 It was formerly fhcwn, that the train of thought 
 in the mind does not depend invnediately on our will, 
 but is regulated by certain general laws of aflbcia- 
 tion. At the fame time, it appeared, that among 
 the various fubjcc^s which thus fpontaneoufly pre- 
 fent thcmfelves to our notice, w-© have the power of 
 
294 ELERftNTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 lingling out any one that we chufe to confider, and 
 of making it a particular object of attention ; and 
 that by doing fo, we not only can flop the train tha^ 
 would otherwife have fucceeded, but frequently can 
 divert the current of our thoughts into a new chan- 
 nel. It alfo appeared, that we have power (which 
 may be much improved by exercife) of recalling 
 paft occurrences to memory, by a voluntary effort 
 of recollection. 
 
 The indire6l influence which the mind thus pofTeff. 
 es over the train of its thoughts is fo great, that dur- 
 ing the whole time we are awake, excepting in thofe 
 cafes in which we fall into what is called a reverie, 
 and fufFer our thoughts to follow their natural 
 courfe, the order of their fucceflioil is always regu- 
 lated more or iefs by the will. The will, indeed, in 
 regulating the train of thought, can operate only (as 
 I already fliewel) by availing itfelf of the efUblifhed 
 laws of affociation ; but ftill it has the power of ren- 
 dering this train very different from what it would 
 have been, if thefelaws had taken place without its 
 interference. 
 
 From thefe principles, combined with the general 
 fa6f which I have endeavored to eflablifh, with re- 
 fpecl to the ftate of the mind in fleep, two obvious 
 confequences follow : Firfl,That when we are in this 
 fituation, the fucceflion of our thoughts, in fo far as 
 it depends on the laws of affociation, may be carried 
 on by the operation of the Cime unknown caufes by 
 which it is produced while we are awake ; and, Sec- 
 ondly, that the order of our thoughts, in thefe two 
 flates of the mind, muft be very different ; inafmuch 
 as, in the one, it depends folely on the laws of affoci- 
 ation ; and in the other, on thefe laws, combined 
 with our own voluntary exertions. 
 
 In order to afcertain how far thefe concluiions are 
 agreeable to truth, it is neceffary to compare them 
 with the known phenomena of dreaming. For 
 which purpofe, I ihall endeavor to fliew, Firft, That 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND* 29S 
 
 the fucceflion of our thoughts in fleep, is regulated 
 by the fame general laws of affociation to which it is 
 fubje6ted while we are awake ; and. Secondly, That 
 the circumftances which difcriminate dreaming from 
 our waking thoughts, are fuch as muil neceffarily 
 arife from the fufpeniion of the influence of the 
 will. 
 
 I. That the fucceflion of our thoughts in fleep, is 
 regulated by the fame general laws of aflociation, 
 which influence the mind while we are awake, ap- 
 pears from the following confiderations. 
 
 1. Our dreams are frequently fuggefted to us by 
 bodily fenfations : and with thefe, it is well known, 
 from what we experience while awake,that particu- 
 lar ideas are frequently very fl:rongly aflbciated. I 
 have been told by a friend, that having occafion, in 
 confequence of an indilpofition, to apply a bottle of 
 hot water to his feet when he went to bed, he dream- 
 ed that he was making a journey to the top of 
 Mount ^tna, and that he found the heat of the 
 ground almoft infupportable. Another perfon, hav- 
 ing a blifl:er applied to his head, dreamed that he was 
 fcalped by a party of Indians. I believe every one 
 who is in the habit of dreaming, will recoiled inftan- 
 ces, in his own cafe, of a fimilar nature. 
 
 2. Our dreams are influenced by the prevailing 
 temper of the mind ; and vary, in their complexion , 
 according as our habitual difpoiilion, at the time, in- 
 clines us to checrfulnefs or to melancholy. Not that 
 this obfervation holds without! exception; but it 
 holds fo generally, as must convince us, that the 
 ftate of our fpirits has fome effect on our dreams, as 
 well as on our v/aking thoughts. Indeed, in rhe lat- 
 ter cafe, no lefs than in the former, this effect may 
 be countcraded, or modified, by various other cir- 
 cumdances. 
 
 After having made a narrow efcape from any al- 
 arming danger, we are apt to awake, in the courfe 
 
296 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of our fleep, with fudden ftartings ; imagining that 
 we are drowning, or on the brink of a precipice. — ^ 
 A fevere misfortune, which has affected the mind 
 deeply, influences our dreams in a fimilar way ; and 
 fuggells to us a variety of adventures, analogous, ih 
 fome meafure, to that event from which our diflrefs 
 arifes. Such, according to Virgil, were the dreams 
 of the f orfaken Dido. 
 
 '* Agjt ipse farentem, 
 
 *' In somis ferus ^neas ; semperque rellnqni, 
 '* Sola sibi ; semper longam i icomitata videlur, 
 **• Ire viam, et Tyrlos des^rla quserere terra.'* 
 
 3. Oar dreams are influenced by our prevailing 
 habits of aflbciation while awake. 
 
 In a former part of this work, I conlidered the 
 extent of that power which the mind may acquire 
 over the train of its thoughts j and I obferved, that 
 thofe intelledual diver fities among men, which we 
 commonly refer to peculiarities of genius, are, at 
 lead in a great meafure, refoivable into difi'erences 
 in their habits of afllKiation. One man poflefles a 
 rich anci beautiful fancy, which is at all times obedi- 
 ent to liis will. Another poflefles a quicknefs of re- 
 coiieclion, which enables him, at a moment's v.'arn- 
 ing, to bring together all the refults of his pafl: expe- 
 rience, and of his part refleclions, which can be of ufe 
 for illuftrating any propofed fubjecc. A third can, 
 without effort, coiled his attention to the moil ab- 
 ftract queftions in philofophy ; can perceive, at a 
 glance, the fliortefl and the mofl: effedual procefs 
 for arriving at the truth ; and can banifli from his 
 mind every extraneous idea, which fancy or cafual 
 aflbciation may fuggefl, to diflract his thoughts, or to 
 miflead his judgment. A fourth unites all thefe pow- 
 ers in a capacity of perceiving truth with an almoft 
 intuitive rapidity ; and in an eloquence which ena- 
 bles him to command, at pleafure, whatever his 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 29? 
 
 memory and his fancy can fupply, to illu (Irate and to 
 adorn it. The occalional exercife which fuch men 
 make of their powers, may undoubtedly be faid, in 
 one fenfe, to be unpremeditated or uniludied ; but 
 they all indicate previous habits of meditation or 
 ftudy, as unqueftionably, as the dexterity of the ex- 
 pert accountant, or the rapid execution of the profef- 
 fional mulician. 
 
 From what has been faid, it is evident, that a train 
 of thought which, in one man, would require a pain- 
 ful effort of ftudy, may, in another, be almoft Spon- 
 taneous ; nor is it to be doubted, that the reveries 
 of.iludious men, even when they allow, as much as 
 they can, their thoughts to follow their own courfe, 
 are more or lefs connected together by thofe princi- 
 ples of aflbciation, which their favorite purfuits tend 
 more particularly to ftrengthen. 
 
 The influence of the fame habits may be traced 
 diftindly in fleep. There are probably few mathe- 
 maticians, who have not dreamed of an intereding 
 problem, and who have not even fancied that they 
 were profecuting the inveftigation of it with much 
 fuccefs. They whofe ambition leads them lo the 
 ftudy of eloquence, are frequently confcious, during 
 fleep, of a renewal of their daily occupations ; and 
 fometimes feel themfelves pofTelTed of a fluency of 
 fpeech, which they never experienced before. The 
 Poet, in his dreams, is tranfported into Elyiium, and 
 leaves the vulgar and unfatisfadory enjoyments of 
 humanity, to dwell in thofe regions of enchantment 
 and rapture, which have been created by the divine 
 imaginations of Virgil and of Taffo. 
 
 " 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 pUw, 
 *^ And shed a roseate smile on Nature's face. 
 
 Oo 
 
29^8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " Not Titian's pencil e'er could so array, 
 *^ So fieece with clouds the pure etherial space; 
 *' Nor could it e'er such melting forms display, 
 " As loose on flowery beds all langaishingly 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 fucceflion of our 
 thoughts in dreaming, is influenced by our prevail- 
 ing habits of alTociation ; it may be remarked, that 
 the fcenes and occurrences which mod frequently 
 prefent themfelves to the mind while we are aileej), 
 are the fcenes and occurrences of childhood and early 
 youth. The facility of alTociation is then much 
 greater than in more advanced years ; and although, 
 during the day, the memory of the events thus aiTo- 
 ciated, may be banilhed by the objeds and purfuits 
 which preis upon our fenfes, it retains a more perma- 
 nent hold of the mind than any of our fubfequent ac- 
 quifitions ; and, like the knowledge which we poflefs 
 of our mother tongue, is, as it were, interwoven and 
 incorporated with all its moil effential habits. Ac- 
 cordinglyy in old men, whofe thoughts are, in a 
 great meafure, difengaged from the world, the 
 tranfactions of their middle age, which once feemed 
 fo important, are often obliterated j while the mind 
 dwells, as in a dream, on the fports and the compan- 
 ions of their infancy. 
 
 I (hall only obferve farther, on this head, rhat in 
 our dreams, as well as when awake, we occafionally 
 make ufe of words as an inftrument of thought. 
 Such dreams, however, do not affect the mind with 
 fuch emotions of pleafare and of pain, as thofe in 
 which the imagination is occupied with particular 
 objects of fenfe. The effect of philofophical fludies, 
 
 * Castle of Indolence. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. f M 
 
 in habituating the mind to the almoft conftant em- 
 ptoyment of this inflrument, and of confequence, its 
 effect in weakening the imagination, was formerly- 
 remarked. If I am not millaken, the influence of 
 thefe circumftances may alfo be traced in the hiftory 
 of our dreams ; which, in youth, commonly involve, 
 in a much greater degree, the exercife of imagination ; 
 and afFedt the mind with much more powerful emo- 
 tions, than when we begin to employ our maturer 
 faculties in more general and abftrad fpeculations. 
 
 From thefe different obfervatioiiS, we are author- 
 ifed to conclude, that the fame laws of alfociation 
 which relgulate the train of our thoughts while we 
 are awake, continue to operate during ileep. I now 
 proceed to confider, how far the circumftances which 
 difcriminate dreaming from our waking thoughts, 
 correfpond with thole which might be expected to 
 refult from the fufpenflorj^of the influence of the will. 
 
 1. If the influence of the will be fufpended du- 
 ring fleep, all our voluntary operations, fuch as re- 
 collection, reafoning, &c. muft alfo be fufpended. 
 
 That this really is the cafe, the extravagance and 
 inconfiftency of our dreams are fufHcient proofs. We 
 frequently confound together times and places the 
 molt remote from each other ; and, in the courfe of 
 the fame dream, conceive the fame perfon as exift- 
 ing in different parts of the world. Sometimes we 
 imagine ourfelves converfing with a dead friend, 
 without remembering the circumftances of his death, 
 although, perhaps, it happened but a few days be- 
 fore, and affedted us deeply All this proves clearly, 
 that the fubjeds which then occupy our thoughts, 
 are luch as prefent themfelves to the mind fpontane- 
 oufly ; and that we have no power of employing 
 our reafon in comparing together the different parts 
 of our dreams ; or even of exerting an a(ft of recol- 
 le<^ion, in order to afcertain how far they are con- 
 fiftent and poflible. 
 
30® ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The proceffes of reafoning, in which we fometimes 
 fancy ourfelves to be engaged during lleep, furnifh 
 no exception to the foregoing obfervation ; for al- 
 though every fuch procefs, the firft time we form it, 
 implies volition ; and, in particular, implies a recol- 
 lection of the premifos, till we arrive at the conclu- 
 iion ; yet when a number of truths have been often 
 prefented to us as necelfarily connected with each 
 other, this feries may afterwards pafs through the 
 mind, according to the laws of affociation, without 
 any more activity on our part, than in thofe trains 
 of thought which are the moft loofe and incoherent. 
 Nor is this mere theory. I may venture to appeal 
 to the confcioufnefs of every man accuftomed to 
 dream, whether his reafonings during fleep do not 
 feem to be carried on without any exertion of his 
 wiij ; and with a degree of facility, of which he was 
 never confcious while awake. Mr. Addifon, in one 
 of his Spedators, has made this obfervation ; and 
 his teftimony, in the prefent inftance, is of the greater 
 weight, that he had no particular theory on the fub- 
 ject to fupport. " There is not,*' (fays he,) " a more 
 *' painful action of the mind than invention, yet in 
 *' dreams, it works with that eafe and adivity, that 
 *' we are not fenfible when the faculty is employed. 
 '' For inftance, I believe every one, fome time or 
 *' other, dreams that he is reading papers, books, or 
 *' letters ; in which cafe the invention prompts fo 
 " readily, that the mind is impoled on, and mif- 
 *' takes its own fuggeftions for the compofition of 
 ** another."* 
 
 2. If the influence of the will during fleep be fuf- 
 pended, the mind will remain as paifive, while it? 
 thoughts change from one fubjecl to another, as it 
 does during our waking hours while different per^ 
 cepK:ible objects are prefented to our fenf©s. 
 
 * 1^0. 487. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. SOI 
 
 Of this paflive It^ite of the mind in our dreams, it 
 is unneceflary to multiply proofs ; as it has always 
 been confidered as one of the mofi: extraordinary 
 circumiiances with which they are accompanied. If 
 our dreams, as well as our waking thoughts, were 
 fubjecl to the will, is it not natural to conclude, that, 
 in the one cafe, as well as in the other, we would en- 
 deavor to banifli, as much as we could, every idea 
 which had a tendency to difturb us ; and detain 
 thofe only which we found agreeable ? So far, how- 
 ever, is this power over our thoughts from being 
 exercifed, that we are frequently opprelTed, in fpite 
 of all our efforts to the contrary, with dreams which 
 affedt us with the moft painful emotions. And, in- 
 deed, it is matter of vulgar remark, that our dreams 
 are, in every cafe, involuntary on our part ; and 
 that they appear to be obtruded on us by fome ex- 
 lernal caufe. This fad: appeared fo unaccountable to 
 the late Mr. Baxter, that it gave rife to his very 
 whimfical theory, in which he afcribes dreams to 
 the immediate influence of feparate fpirits on the 
 mind. 
 
 3. If the influence of the will be fufpended during 
 fleep, the conceptions which we then form of fenfible 
 objeds will be attended with a belief of their real ex- 
 iftence, as much as the perception of the fame objeds 
 is while we are awake. 
 
 In treating of the power of Conception, I former- 
 ly obferved, that our belief of the feparate and inde- 
 pendent exiftence of the objects of our perceptions, 
 is the refult of experience ; which teaches us that 
 thefe perceptions do not depend on our will. If I 
 open my eyes, I cannot prevent myfelf from feeing 
 the proipccl before me. The cafe is different with 
 refpect to our conceptions. While they occupy the 
 mind, to the exclufion of every thing elfe, I endeav- 
 ored to fhew, that they are always accompanied 
 with belief j but as we can banifli them from the 
 
502 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 mind, during our waking hours, at pleafure 4 and 
 as the momentary belief which they produce, is con- 
 tinually checked by the furrounding objeds of our 
 perceptions, we learn to confider them as fictions of 
 our own creation ; and, excepting in fome accident- 
 al cafes, pay no regard to them in the condud: of 
 life. If the dodrine, however, formerly ftated with 
 refped to conception be juft, and if, at the fame 
 time, it be allowed, that deep fufpends the influence 
 of the will over the train of our thoughts, we fhould 
 naturally be led to expect, that the fame belief which 
 accompanies perceptions while we are awake, fliould 
 accompany the conceptions which occur to us in our 
 dreams. It is fcarcely neceflliry for me to remark, 
 how ftrikingly this conclufion coincides with ac- 
 knowledged fads. 
 
 May it not be confidered as fome confirmation of 
 the foregoing do6fcrine, that when opium fails in 
 producing complete fleep, it commonly produces one 
 of the effects of fleep, by fufpending the adivity of 
 the mind, and throwing it into a reverie ; and that 
 •while we are in this ftate, our conceptions frequent- 
 ly aiFe<^ us nearly in the fame manner, as if the ob- 
 jefts conceived were prefentto our fenfes ?* 
 
 Another circumflance with refped to our concep- 
 tions during fleep, deferves our notice. As the fub- 
 jecls which we then think upon occupy the mind 
 exclufively ; and as the attention is not diverted by 
 the objeds of our external fenfes, our conceptions 
 muft be proportionably lively and fteady. Every 
 perfon knows how faint the conception is which we 
 form of any thing, with our eyes open, in compari- 
 fon of what we can form with our eyes fliut : and 
 that, in proportion as we can fufpend the exercife of 
 all our other fenfes, the livelinefs of our conception 
 
 * See Ihe Baron de Tott's Account of the Opiuai-takers at 
 Constantinople. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 50S 
 
 increafes. To this caufe is to be afcribed, in part, 
 the efFed which the dread of fpirits in the dark, has 
 on fome perfons, who are fully convinced in fpecula- 
 tion, that their apprehenfions are groundlefs ; and to 
 this alfo is owing, the effect of any accidental per- 
 ception in giving them a momentary relief from 
 their terrors. Hence the remedy which nature 
 points out to us, when we find ourfelves overpow- 
 ered by imagination. If every thing around us be 
 lilent, we endeavor to create a noife, by fpeaking a- 
 loud, or beating with our feet ; that is, we flrive 
 to divert the attention from the fubjeds of our im- 
 agination, by prefenting an objedt to our powers of 
 perception. The conclufion which I draw from 
 thefe obfervations is, that, as there is no ftate of the 
 body in which our perceptive powers are fo totally 
 unemployed as in fleep, it is natural to think, that 
 the objects which we conceive or imagine, muft then 
 make an impreffion on the mind, beyond compari- 
 fon greater, than any thing of which we can have 
 experience while awake. 
 
 From thefe principles may be derived a fimple, 
 and, I think, a fatisfadory explanation of what fome 
 writers have reprefented as the moft myfterious of 
 all the circumftances conneded with dreaming ; the 
 inaccurate eftimates we are apt to form of Time^ 
 while we are thus employed 'y- — an inaccuracy which 
 fometimes extends fo far, as to give to a fingle in- 
 fiance, the appearance of hours, or perhaps of days. 
 A fudden noife, for example, fuggeils a dream con- 
 neded with that perception ; and, the moment af- 
 terwards, this noife has the effed of awaking us ; and 
 yet, during that momentary interval, a long feries 
 of circumftances has paffed before the imagination. 
 The ftory quoted by Mr. Addifon* from the Turkifli 
 Tales, of the Miracle wrought by a Mahometan 
 
 * SPEfTATOR, No. 94, 
 
304 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Doctor, to convince an infidel Sultan, is, in fuch cafes, 
 »early verified. 
 
 The hicts I allude to at prefent are generally ex- 
 plained by fuppofing, that, in our dreams, the rapdi- 
 ity of thought is greater than while we are awake : 
 but there is no neceflity for having recourfe to fuch 
 a fuppofition. The rapidity of thought is, at all 
 times fuch, that, in the twinkling of an eye, a crowd 
 of ideas may pafs before us, to which it would re- 
 quire a long difcourfe to give utterance ; and tranf- 
 adions may be conceived, which it would re- 
 quire days to realize. But, in fleep, the conceptions 
 of the mind are mifl:aken for realities ; and there- 
 fore, our efl:imates of time will be formed, not accor- 
 ding to our experience of the rapidity of thought, 
 but according to our experience of the time requi- 
 fite for realizing what we conceive. Something 
 perfe<flly analogous to this may be remarked in the 
 perceptions we obtain by the fenfe of fight. When 
 I look into a ftiew-box, where the deception is im- 
 perfect, I fee only a fet of paltry daubings of a few 
 inches diameter ; but, if the reprefentation be exe- 
 cuted with fo much fkill, as to convey to me the idea 
 of a diftant profpect, every object before me fwells 
 in its dimenfions, in proportion to the extent of 
 fpace which I conceive it to occupy ; and what feem- 
 ed before to be fhut up within the limits of a fmall 
 wooden frame, is magnified, in my apprehendon, 
 to an immenfe landfcape of woods, rivers, and moun- 
 tains. 
 
 The phenomena which we have hitherto explain- 
 ed, take place when lleep feems to be complete ; that 
 is, when the mind lofes its influence over all thofe 
 powers whofe exercife depends on its will. There 
 are, however, many cafes in which lleep feems to 
 be partial ; that is, when the mind lofes its influ- 
 ence overy^;??^ powers, and retains it over others. In 
 the cafe of the fonuumbuli^ it retains its power over 
 the limbs, but it poireiTes no influence over its own 
 
OP THE HUMAN MIND. S05 
 
 thoughts, and fcarcely any over the body ; excepting 
 thofe particular members of it which are employed 
 in walking. In madnefs, the power of the will over 
 the body remains undiminifhed, while its influence 
 in regulating the train of thought is in a great meaf- 
 ure fufpended ; either in confequence of a particu- 
 lar idea, which engrolTes the attention, to the exclu- 
 lion of every thing elfe, and which we find it impof- 
 fible to banifh by our efforts ; or in confequence of 
 our thoughts fucceeding each other with fuch rapid- 
 ity, that we are unable to flop the train. In both 
 of thefe kinds of madnefs, it is worthy of remark, 
 that the conceptions or imaginations of the mind be- 
 coming independent of our will, they are apt to be 
 miflaken for aclual perceptions, and to affecl us in 
 the fame manner. 
 
 By means of this fuppofition of a partial fleep, any 
 apparent exceptions which the hiflory of dreams 
 may afford to the general principles already ftated, 
 admit of an eafy explanation. 
 
 Upon reviewing the foregoing obfervations, it 
 does not occur to me, that I have in any inflance 
 tranfgreffed thofe rules of philofophifing, which, 
 fince the time of Newton, are commonly appealed to, 
 as the tefls of found invefligation. For, in the firfi 
 place, I have not fuppofed any caufes which are not 
 known to exifl ; and fecondly, I have Ihewn, that 
 the phenomena under our confideration are necefla- 
 ry confequences of the caufes to which I have refer- 
 red them. I have not fuppofed, that the mind ac- 
 quires in fleep, any new faculty of which we are not 
 confcious while awake ; but only (what we know 
 to be a fad:) that it retains fome of its powers, while 
 the exercife of others is fufpended : and 1 have d^ 
 duced fynthetically,the known phenomena of dream- 
 ing, from the operation of a particular clafs of our 
 faculties, unconnected by the operation of another. 
 I flatter myfelf, therefore, that this inquiry will not 
 P p 
 
S0& ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 only throw fome light on the ftate of the mind in 
 lleep ; but that it will have a tendency to illuftrate 
 the mutual adaptation and fubferviency which exifls 
 among the different parts of our conftitution, when 
 we are in a complete pofleflion of all the faculties and 
 principles which belong to our nature.* 
 
 CHAPTER FIFTH, 
 
 ' PART SECOND. 
 
 Of the Influence of Aflbciation on the Intelleduai 
 and on the Adive Powers. 
 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Of the Influence of cafual AJfociations on our ffeculativf 
 Conclufions. 
 
 THE Aflbciation of Ideas has a tendency to warp 
 our fpeculative opinions chiefly in the three follow- 
 ing ways : 
 
 Firll, by blending together in our apprehenfions, 
 things which are really diftinci: in their nature ; fo 
 as to introduce perplexity and error into every pro- 
 cefs of reafoning in which they are involved. 
 
 Secondly, by mifleading us in thofe anticipations 
 of the future from the pall, which our conltitutioH 
 difpoles us to form, and which are the great founda- 
 tion of our condud in life. 
 
 Thirdly, by conneding in the mind erroneous 
 
 * See Note [O.j 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 507 
 
 ©pinions, with truths which irrefiftibly command 
 our afl'ent, and which vve feel to be of importance to 
 human happinefs. 
 
 A (hort iliuftration of thefe remarks, will throw 
 light on the origin of various prejudices ; and may, 
 perhaps, fuggeft fome practical hints with refped to 
 the coiidud of the underitanding, 
 
 I. I formerly had occafion to m.ention feveral in- 
 ftances of very intimate affociations formed between 
 two idevis which have no necefTary connection with 
 each other. One of the moft remarkable is, that 
 which exifts in €very pcrfon's mind between the no- 
 tions of colour and of extenfion. The former of thefe 
 words exprefles (at leail in the fenfe in which we 
 commonly employ it) a fenfation in the mind ; the 
 latter denotes a quality of an external obje<5l ; fo that 
 there is, in fact, no more conn^dion between the 
 two notions than between thofe of pain and of fo- 
 lidity ;* and yet, in confequence of our always per- 
 ceiving exteniion, at the lame time at which the fen- 
 fation of colour is excited in the mind, we find it 
 impofTible to think of that fenfation, without con- 
 ceiving exteniion along with it. 
 
 Another intimate aflbciation is formed in every 
 mind between the ideas oifpace and of time. When 
 we think of an interval of duration, we always con- 
 ceive it as foniething analogous to a line, and we 
 apply the fame language to both lubjecls. Wefpeak 
 of a long 2ind /hort time, as weW oi 2 long Tindjhort dift- 
 ance, and we are not confcious of any metaphor in 
 doing fo. Nay, fo very perfect does the analogy ap- 
 pear to us, that Bofcovich mentions it as a curious 
 circumftance, that extcnfum fhould have three di- 
 menfions, and duration only one. 
 
 This apprehended analogy seems be founded 
 wholly on an afTociation between the ideas of fpacf 
 
 * JSee Note [P.] 
 
308 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 and of time, arifing from our always meafuring the 
 one of thefe quantities by the other. We measure 
 time bv motion, and motion by extenfion. In an 
 hour, the hand of the clock moves over a certain 
 fpace ; in two hours, over double the fpace ; and 
 fo on. Hence the ideas of fpace and of time become 
 very intimately united, and we apply to the latter 
 the words long ^udjhort^ before and after ^ in the fame 
 manner as to the former. 
 
 The apprehended analogy between the relation 
 which the different notes in the fcale of mufic bear 
 to each other, and the relation of fuperiority and in- 
 feriority, in refpe61: of polition, among material ob- 
 jects, arifes alfo from an accidental afibciation of 
 ideas. 
 
 What this afibciation is founded upon, I fhall not 
 take upon me to determine ; but that it is the effed: 
 of accident, appears clearly from this, that it has not 
 only been confined to particular ages and nations ; 
 but is the very reverfe of an affociation which was 
 once equally prevalent. It is obferved by Dr. Greg- 
 ory, in the preface to his edition of Euclid*s works, 
 that the more ancient of the Greek writers looked 
 upon grave founds as high, and acute ones as low ; 
 and that the prefent mode of expreliion on that 
 fubjed, was an innovation introduced at a later pe- 
 riod.* 
 
 In the inllances which have now been mentioned, 
 our habit of combining the notions of two things, 
 becomes fo flrong, that we find it impoflible to think 
 of the one, without thinking at the fame time of 
 the other. Various other examples of the fame fpe- 
 cies of combination, although, perhaps, not alto* 
 gether fo flriking in degree, might eafily be collected 
 from the fubjecls about which our metaphyfical fpec- 
 wlations are employed. T^Qfenfatms^ for inflance, 
 
 « See Note [Q.] 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. , SOD 
 
 which are excited in the mind by external object!?, 
 and the perceptions of material qualities whicli follow 
 thefe I'enfations, are to be diftinguifhed from each 
 other only by long habits of patient reflecfion. A 
 clear conception of this diftin6lion may be regarded 
 as the key to all Dr. Reid's reafonings concerning 
 the procels of nature in perception ; and, till it has 
 once been rendered familiar to the reader, a great 
 part of his writings muft appear unfatisfacffory and 
 obfcure. — In truth, our progrefs in the philofophy of 
 the human mind depends much more on that fevere 
 and difcriminating judgment, which enables us to 
 feparate ideas which nature or habit have intimate- 
 ly combined, than on acutenefs of reafoning or fer- 
 tility of invention. And hence it is, that metaphyf- 
 ical ftudies are the beft of all preparations for thofe 
 philofophical purfuits which relate to the condud: of 
 life. In none of thefe do we meet with cafual com- 
 binations fo intiaiate and indiflbluble as thofe which 
 occur in metaphylics ; and he who has been accuf- 
 tomed to fuch difcriminations as this fcience requires, 
 will not eifily be impoled on by that confufion of 
 ideas, which warp the judgments of the multitude 
 in moral, religious, and political inquiries. 
 
 From the fads which have now been flated, it is 
 cafy to conceive the manner in which the affociation 
 of ideas has a tendency to millead the judgment, in 
 the firft of the three cafes already enumerated. 
 When two fubjecb of thought are fo intimately con- 
 nefted together in the mind, that we find it fcarcely 
 poflible to confider them apart ; it muft require no 
 common efforts of attention, to conduct any procefs 
 of reafoning which relates to either I formerly 
 took notice of the errors to which we are expofed 
 in confequence of the ambiguity of words ; and of 
 the neceflity of frequently checking and correcting 
 our general reafonings by means of particular ex- 
 amples y but in the cafes to which I allude at prefent. 
 
310 ELEMENTS OF THE PmLOSOPHY 
 
 there is (if I may ufe the expreffion) an ambiguity 
 of things ; fo that even when the mind is occupied 
 about particulars, it finds it difficult to feparate the 
 proper object of its attention from others with which 
 it has been long accuftomed to blend them. The 
 cafes, indeed, in which fuch obftinate and invincible 
 affociations are formed among different fubjefls of 
 thought, are not very numerous, and occur chiefly 
 in our metaphyfical refearches ; but in every mind, 
 cafual combinations, of an inferior degree of ftrength, 
 have an habitual effed in difturbino: the intellectual 
 powers, and are not to be conquered without per- 
 fevering exertions, of which few men are capable. 
 The obvious efFe<5ls which this tendency to combina- 
 tion produces on the judgment, in confounding to- 
 gether thofe ideas which it is the province of the 
 nietaphyfician to diflinguifli, fufficiently illuftrate the 
 mode of its operation in thofe numerous inftances, 
 in which its influence, though not fo complete and 
 ftriking, is equally real, and far more dangerous. 
 
 II. The aflbciation of ideas is a fource of fpecula- 
 tive error, by mifleading us in thofe anticipations of 
 the future from the paft, which are the foundation 
 of our conduct in life. 
 
 The great objed: of philofophy, as I have already 
 remarked more than once, is to afcertain the laws 
 which regulate the fucceffion of events, both in the 
 phyfical and moral worlds ; in order that, when 
 called upon to act in any particular combination of 
 circumflances, we may be enabled to anticipate the 
 probable courfe of nature from our paft experience 
 and to regulate our condu(5t accordingly. 
 
 As a knowledge of the eftabUfhed connexions 
 among events, is the foundation of fagacity and of 
 Ikill, both in the pracftical arts, and in the conduct of 
 life, nature has not only given to all men a ftrong 
 difpofition to remark, with attention and curiofity, 
 Aofe phenomena which have been obferved to hap- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. $] t 
 
 jpen nearly at the fame time ; but has beautifully 
 adapted to the uniformity of her own operations, 
 the laws of affociation in the human mind. By ren- 
 dering contiguity in iinie one of the ftrongeft of our 
 affociating principles, (he has conjoined together in 
 our thoughts, the fame 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 fcene in which we are deftined to 
 
 aa. 
 
 The degree of experience which is neceffary for 
 the prefervation of our animal exiftence, is acquired 
 by all men without any particular efforts of lludy. 
 The laws of nature, which it is moft material for us 
 to know, are expofed to the immediate obfervation 
 of our fenfes ; and eftablifb, by means of the princi- 
 ple of affociation, a correfponding order in our 
 thoughts, long before the dawn of reafon and re- 
 flexion ; or at leaft long before that period of child- 
 hood, to which our recollection afterwards extends. 
 
 This tendency of the mind to affociate together 
 events which have been prefented to it nearly at the 
 fame time j although, on the vvhole, it is attended 
 with infinite advantages, yet, like many other prin- 
 ciples of our nature, may occafionally be a fource of 
 inconvenience, unlefs we avail ourfelves of our rea- 
 Ibn and of experience in keeping it under proper re- 
 gulation. Among the various phenomena which 
 are continually pafling before us, there is a great 
 proportion, whofe vicinity in time does not indicate 
 % conftancy of conjunction ; and unlefs we be care- 
 ful to make the diiHndi(;n between thefe two claffes 
 of connexions, tlie order of our ideas will be apt t(» 
 correfpond with the one as well as with the c;ther ; 
 and our unenlightened experience of tlie pad, will 
 fill the mind, in numbericfs inllances, with vain ex- 
 pecl^itions, or with groundlefs alarms, conceriiing the 
 future. This difpofition to confound together acci- 
 
312 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 dental and permanent connedlions, is one great 
 fource of popular fup- rftitions. Hence the regard 
 which is paid to unlucky days ; to unlucky colours ; 
 and to the influence of the planets ; apprehenfions 
 which render human life, to many, a continued fe- 
 ries of abfurd terrors. Lucretius compares them to 
 thofe which children feel, from an idea of the exift- 
 ence of fpirits in the dark : 
 
 " Ac veluti pueri trepidant, atque omnia coecis 
 *' In tenebris metuiint, sic nos in luce timemus, 
 " Interdum nihilo quae sunt metuenda magis." 
 
 Such fpeclres can be difpelled by the light of phi- 
 lofophy only ; which, by accuftoming us to trace 
 eftablifhed connexions, teaches us to defpife thofe 
 which are cafual ; and, by giving a proper direction 
 to that bias of the mind which is the foundation of 
 fuperftition, prevents it from leading us aftray. 
 
 In the inftances which \^e have now been confid- 
 ering, events come to be combined together in the 
 mind, merely from the accidental circumftance of 
 their contiguity in time, at the moment when we 
 perceived them. Such combinations are cor.iined, 
 in a great meafure, to uncultivated and unenlight- 
 ened minds ; or to thofe individuals who, from na- 
 ture or education, have a more than ordinary facility 
 of affociation. But there are other accidental com- 
 binations, which are apt to lay hold of the moft vig- 
 orous underftandings ; and from which, as they are 
 the natural and necelTary refult of a limited experi- 
 ence, no fuperiority of intellect is fufEcient to pre- 
 ferve a philofopher, in the infancy of phylicaj 
 fcience. 
 
 As the connecSlions among phyfical events are dis- 
 covered to us by experience alone, it is evident, that 
 when we fee a phenomenon preceded by a number 
 of different circumflances, it is impoflible for us to 
 determine, by any reafoning a priori^ which of tbefe 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 313 
 
 circumftances are to be regarded as the conjlant^ and 
 which as the accidental^ antecedents of the effect. If, 
 in the courfe of our experience, the fame combina- 
 tion of circumftances is always exhibited to us with- 
 out any alteration, and is invariably followed by the 
 fame refult, we muft for ever remain ignorant, whe- 
 ther this refult be connected with the whole combi- 
 nation, or with one or more of the circumftances 
 combined ; and therefore, if we are anxious, upon 
 any occafion, to produce a fimilar effed, the only- 
 rule that we can follow with perfect fecurity, is to 
 imitate in every particular circumftance the combina- 
 tion which we have feen It is only where we have 
 an opportunity of feparating fuch circumftances from 
 each other ; of combining them varioufly together; 
 and of obferving the effects which refult from thefe 
 difierent experiments, that we can afcertain with 
 precifion, the general laws of nature, and ftrip phyf- 
 ical caufes of their accidental and uneffential concom- 
 itants. 
 
 To illuftrate this by an example. Let \js fuppofe 
 that a favage, who, in a particular inftance, had found 
 himfelf relieved of fome bodily indifpolition by a 
 draught of cold water, is a fecond time afflicted with 
 a limilar diforder, and is defirous to repeat the fame 
 remedy. With the limited degree of experience 
 which we have here fuppofed him to poffefs, it would 
 be impoflible for the acuteft philofopher, in his fitu- 
 ation, 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, therefore, to 
 enfure the fuccefs of the remedy, he will very nat- 
 urally, and very wifely, copy, as far as he can recolledt, 
 every circumftance which accompanied the firft ap- 
 plication of it. He will make ule of the fanie cup, 
 draw the water from the lame fountain, hold his 
 
S14 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 body in the fame pofture, and turn his face in the 
 fame direction ; and thus all the accidental circum- 
 fiances in which the firft experiment was made, will 
 come to be alTociated equally in his mind with the 
 effedl produced. The fountain from which the wa- 
 ter was drawn will be confidered as pofleffed of par- 
 ticular virtues ; and the cup from which it w^as drunk, 
 will be fet apart from vulgar ufes, for the fake of 
 ihofe who may afterwards have occafion to apply the 
 remedy. It is the enlargement of experience alone, 
 and not any progrefs in the art of reafoning, which 
 can cure the mind of thefe afTociations, and free the 
 practice of medicine from thofe fuperftitious obfer- 
 vances with which we always find it incumbered 
 among rude nations. 
 
 Many inftances of this fpecies of fuperftition might 
 be produced from the works of philofophers who 
 have flourifhed in more enlightened ages. In par- 
 ticular, many might be produced from the writings 
 of thofe phylical inquirers who immediately fucceed- 
 ed to Lord Bacon ; and who, convinced by his ar- 
 guments, of the folly of all reafonings a priori^ con- 
 cerning the laws of nature, were frequently apt t» 
 run into the oppofite extreme, by recording every 
 circumilance, even the mod ludicrous, and the moft 
 obvioufly ineffential, which attended their experi- 
 ments.* 
 
 The obfervatlons which have been hitherto made, 
 relate entirely to affociations founded on cafual com- 
 binations of material objeds, or of phyftcal events. 
 The effeds which thefe afibciations produce on the 
 
 * The reader will scarcely believe, that the followng ciije for a 
 dysentery, is copied 'verb-.dhn 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 antimonia! medicine, give hiui^ 
 " one dram of this white powder for one dose, in some good 
 " dial, whether conserve or liquor." 
 
 1 cor^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. SIS 
 
 tinderftanding, and which are fo palpable, that they 
 cannot fail to ftrike the moft carelefs obferver, will 
 prepar'e the reader for the remarks I am now to 
 l^make, on fome analogous prejudices which warp our 
 opinions on ftill more important fubjecis. 
 
 As the ellablifiied laws of the material world, 
 which have been exhibited to our fenfes from our 
 infancy, gradually accommodate to themfelves the 
 order of our thoughts ; fo the moft arbitrary and 
 capricious inlHtutions and cuftoms, by a long and 
 conftant and exclufive operation on the mind, ac- 
 quire fuch an influence in forming the intelledtual 
 habits, that every deviation from them not only pro- 
 duces furprife, but is apt to excite fentiments of con- 
 tempt and of ridicule. A perfon who has never ex- 
 tended his views beyond that fociety of which he 
 himfelf is a member, is apt to confider many pecu- 
 liarities in the manners and cuftoms of his country- 
 men as founded on the univerfal principles of the 
 human conftitution ; and when he hears of other 
 nations, whofe practices in fimilar cafes are different, 
 he is apt to cenfure them as unnatural, and to def* 
 pife them as abfurd. There are two clafles of men 
 who have more particularly been charged with this 
 weaknefs ; thofe who are placed at the bottom, and 
 thofe who have reached the fummit of the feale of 
 refinement ; the fromer from ignorance, and the lat- 
 ter from national vanity. 
 
 For curing this clais of prejudices, the obvious 
 expedient which nature points out to us, is to extend 
 our acquaintance with human affairs, either by 
 means of books, or of perfonal obfervation. The ef- 
 fedls of travelling, in enlarging and enlightening the 
 mind, are obvious to our daily experience ; and 
 limilar advantages may be derived (although, per- 
 haps, not in an equal degree) from a careful ftudy 
 of the manners of paft ages or of diftant nations, as 
 they are defcribed by the hiftorian. In making, 
 
516 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 however, thefe attempts for our inteliedual improve- 
 ment, it is of the utmoft conlequence to us to vary, 
 to a confiderable degree, the objects of Obr attention ; 
 in order to prevent any danger of our acquiring an 
 exciufive prefereni e for the caprices of any (me peo- 
 ple, whofe political fituation, or whofe moral char- 
 acter, may attach us to them as faultlets models for 
 our imitation. The fame weaknefs and verfatility 
 of mind ; the fame facility of affociation, which, in 
 the cafe of a perfon who has never extended his 
 views beyond his own community, is a fource of na- 
 tional prejudice and of national bigotry, renders the 
 mind, when forced into new fituations, eafily fufcep- 
 tible of other prejudices no lefs capricious ; and fre- 
 quently prevents the time, which is devoted to tra- 
 velling, or to ftudy, from being fubfervient to any 
 better purpofe, than an importation of foreign fafh* 
 ions, or a ftill more ludicrous imitation of antient 
 follies. 
 
 The philofopher whofe thoughts dwell habitual- 
 ly, not merely upon what is, or what has been, 
 but upon what is beft and moft expedient for man- 
 kind ; who, to the ftudy of books, and the ob- 
 fervation of manners, has added a careful exami- 
 nation of the principles of the human conflitu- 
 tion, and of thofe which ought to regulate the focial 
 order ; is the only perfon who is efFedually fecured 
 againfl both the weakneiTes which I have defcribed. 
 By learning to feparate what is elTential to morality 
 and to happinefs, from thofe adventitious trifles 
 which it is the province of falhion to direct, he is 
 equally guarded againft the follies of national preju- 
 dice, and a weak deviation, in matters of indifier- 
 ence, from eftablifhed ideas. Upon his mind, thus 
 occupied with important fubjects of reflection, the 
 fluctuating caprices and fafliions of the tiroes lofe 
 their influence ; while accufl:omed to avoid the flave- 
 ry of local and arbitrary habits, he poflefles^ in his 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, SIT 
 
 own genuine fimplicity of characler, the fame pow- 
 er of iiccoinrao(iUion to external circumftances, 
 whica men of the world derive from the pliability 
 of their talle, and the verfatility of their manners. 
 As the order, too, of his ideas is accommodated, not 
 to what is cafualiy prefented from without, but to 
 his own fyftematical principles, his aiTociations are 
 fubjecl only to thofe flow and pleafing changes which 
 arife from his growing light and improvii;g reaion ; 
 and, in fuch a period of the world is tae prefent, 
 when the piefs not only excludes the poilibility of a 
 permanent retrogradation in hum.an affairs, but ope* 
 rates with an irrefiftible though gradual progrefs, in 
 undermining prejudices and in extei;ding the tri- 
 umphs of philofophy, he may reafonably indulge the 
 hope, that fociety will every day approach nearer 
 and nearer to what he wnfhes it to be. A man of 
 fuch a character, inflead of looking back on the pafl 
 with regret, finds himfelf (if I may ufe the expref- 
 iion) more at home in the world, and more fatisfied 
 with its order, the longer he lives in it. The mel- 
 ancholy contrafls which old men are fometimes dif- 
 pofed to flate, between its condition, when they are 
 about to leave it, and that in which they found it at 
 the commencement of their career, arifes, in mofl 
 cales, from the unlimited influence which in their 
 early years they had allowed to the fafhions of the 
 times, in the formation of their characfers. How 
 different from thole fentiments and profped:s which 
 dignified the retreat of Turgot, and brightened the 
 declining years of Franklin ! 
 
 The que rulous temper, however, which is inci- 
 dent to Old men, although it renders their manners 
 difagreeable in th intercourle of focial life, is by 
 no means the moft contemptible form in which the 
 prejudices 1 have now been defcribing may difplay 
 their influence. Such a temper indicates at leall a 
 certain degree of obfervation, in marking the viciiTu 
 
SI 8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tudes of human affairs, and a certain degree of fen- 
 fibility in early life, which has connected plcafing 
 ideas with the fcenes of infancy and youth. A ve- 
 ry great proportion of mankind are, in a great 
 meafure, incapable either of the one or of the other ; 
 and, fuffering thenifelves to be carried quietly along 
 with the dream of fafhion, and finding their opinions 
 and their feelings always in the fame relative fitua- 
 tion to the fleeting objects around them, are per- 
 fectly unconfcious of any progrefs in their own 
 ideas, or of any change in the manners of their age. 
 In vain the philofopher reminds them of the opin- 
 ions they yefterday held ; and forewarns them, 
 from the fpirit of the times, of thofe which they are 
 to hold tomorrow. The opinions of the prefent 
 moment feem to them to be infeparible from their 
 conftitution ; and when the profpecls are reallfed, 
 which they lately treated as chimerical, their minds 
 are fo gradually prepared for the event, that they be- 
 hold it without any emotions of wonder or curiofi- 
 ty ; and it is to the philofopher alone, by whom it 
 was predidled, that it appears to furnifli a fubjedt 
 worthy of future refiedion. 
 
 The prejudices to which the laft obfervations re- 
 late, have their origin in that difpofition of our na- 
 ture, which accommodates the order of our ideas, 
 and our various intelle£tual habits, to whatever ap- 
 pearances have been long and familiarly prefented 
 to the mind. But there are other prejudices, which, 
 by being intimately affociated with the effential 
 principles of our conftitution, or with the original 
 and univerfal laws of our belief, are incomparably 
 more inveterate in their nature, and have a far 
 more extenfive influence on human character and 
 happinefs, 
 
 III. The manner in which the affociation of ideas 
 operates in producing this third clafs of our fpecu^ 
 lative errors, may be conceived, in part, from what 
 
OF TfTE HUMAN MlND. 319 
 
 was formerly faid, concerning the fuperftitious ob- 
 fervances, which are mixed with the praiftice of med- 
 icine among rude nations. As all the different cir- 
 cumftances which accompanied the firft adminiftra- 
 tion of a remedy, come to be confidered as eflential 
 to its future fuccefs, and are blended together in 
 our conceptions, without any difcrimination of their 
 relative importance , fo, whatever tenets and cere- 
 monies we have been taught to conne£t with the re- 
 ligious creed of our infancy, become almoft apart of 
 our conftitution, by being indiffolubly united with 
 truths which are effential to happinefs, and which 
 we are led to reverence and to love, by all the beft 
 difpolitions of the heart. The aftonifhment which 
 the peafant feels, when he fees the rites of a religion 
 different from his own, is not lefs great than if he 
 faw fome flagrant breach of the moral duties, or 
 fome dired: a6t of impiety to God ; nor' is it eafy 
 for him to conceive, that there can be any thing 
 worthy in a mind which treats with indifference, 
 what awakens in his own breafl all its befl and fub- 
 limeft emotions. '' Is it pollible," (fays the old and 
 expiring Bramin, in one of MarmonteFs tales, to the 
 young Englifh officer who had faved the life of his 
 daughter,) "is it pofTible, that he to whofe compaf- 
 *' fion I owe the prefervation of my child, and who 
 *' now foothes my lafl moments with the confolations 
 " of piety, fhould not believe in the god Vijinou^ and 
 " his nine metamorphofes !*' 
 
 What has now been faid on the nature of Wigious 
 fuperftition, may be applied to many other fubjects. 
 In particular, it may be applied to thofe political 
 prejudices which bias the judgment even of enhght- 
 ened men in all countries of the world. 
 
 How deeply rooted in the human frame are thofe 
 important principles, which interefl the good man in 
 the profperity of the world ; and more efpecially in 
 the profperity of that beloved community to which 
 
52G ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 he belongs ! How fraall, at the fame time, Is the 
 number of individuals who, accuilomed to contem- 
 plate one modification alone of the fbcial order, are 
 able to diiHnguiih the circumtlances which are ef- 
 fential to human happinefs, from thofe which are in- 
 different or hurtful ! In fuch a iituation, how natu- 
 ral is it for a man of benevolence, to acquire an in- 
 difcriminate and fuperflitious veneration for all the 
 inflitutions under which he has been educated ; as 
 thefe inflitutions, however capricious and abfurd in 
 themfelves, are not only familiarifed by habit to all 
 his thoughts and feelings, but are confecrated in his 
 mind by an indifrolul3le affociation with duties 
 which nature recommends to his affections, and 
 which reafon commands him to fulfil. It is on thefe 
 accounts that a fuperflitious zeal againfl 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 for row of the more en- 
 lightened philofopher, is juftly entitled, not only to 
 his indulgence, but to his efleem and affedion. 
 
 The remarks which have been already made> are 
 fufficient to fhew, how neceiLiry it is for us, in the 
 formation of our philofophical principles, to exam- 
 ine with care all thofe opinions which, in our early- 
 years, we have imbibed from our inffrudors ; or 
 which are connected with our own local situation. 
 Nor does the univerfility of an opinion among men 
 who have received a fimilar education, afford any 
 prefumption in its favor ; for however great the dif- 
 ference is, which a wife man will always pay to com- 
 mon belief, upon thofe fubjects which have employ- 
 ed the unbialfed reafon of mankind, he certainly 
 owes it no refpecl, in fo far as he fufpeds it to be in- 
 fluenced by fafhion or authority. Nothing can be 
 more jufl than the obfervation of Fontenelle, that 
 " the number of thofe who believe in a fyflem al- 
 " ready eflabliflied in the world, does not, in the 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIN©. S2l 
 
 *' leaft, add to its credibility ; but that the number 
 *^ of thofe who doubt of it, has a tendency to dimin- 
 « ifh it/' 
 
 The fame remarks lead, upon the other hand, to 
 another conclufion of ftill greater importance ; that, 
 notwithftanding the various falfe opinions which are 
 current in the world, there are fome truths, which 
 are infeparable from the human underftanding, and 
 by means of which, the errors of education, in moft 
 inftances, are enabled to take hold of our belief. 
 
 A weak mind, unaccuilomed to reflexion, and 
 which has paflively derived its moft important opin- 
 ions from habit or from authority, when, in confe- 
 quence of a more enlarged intercourfe with the 
 world, it finds, that ideas which it hod been taught 
 to regard as facred, are treated by enlightened and 
 worthy men with ridicule, is apt to lolie its rever- 
 ence for the fundamental and eternal truths on which 
 thefe acceflbry ideas are grafted, and eafily falls a 
 prey to that fceptical phiiofophy which teaches, that 
 all the opinions, and all the principles of adlion by 
 which mankind are governed, may be traced to the 
 influence of education and exmaple. Amidft the 
 infinite variety of forms, however, which our verfa- 
 tile nature afTumes, it cannot fail to ftrike an atten- 
 tive obferver, that there are certain indeHble fea- 
 tures common to them all. In one fituation, we 
 find good men attached to a republican form of gov- 
 ernment ; in another, to a monarchy ; but in all fit- 
 uations, we find them devoted to the fervice of their 
 country and of mankind, and difpofed to regard, 
 with reverence and love, the mofl abfurd and capri- 
 cious inftitutions which cuflom has led them to con- 
 nect with the order of fociety. The different ap- 
 pearances, therefore, which the political opinions 
 and the political condudl of men exhibit, while they 
 demonftrate to what a wonderful degree human na- 
 ture may be influenced by fituation and by early 
 R R 
 
322 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 inftru^lion, evince the exigence of fome commorjr 
 and original principles, which fit it for the political 
 uni')n, and iUuftrate the uniform operation of thofe 
 laws of affociation, to which, in all the ftages of fo- 
 ciety, it is equally fubjecl. 
 
 Similar obfervations are applicable, and, indeed,. 
 in a ftill more ftriking degree, to the opinions of 
 mankind on the important queftions of religion and 
 morality. The variety of fyftems which they have 
 formed to themfelves concerning thefe fubjedls, has 
 often excited the ridicule of the fceptic and the liber- 
 tine ; but if, on the one hand, this variety fliews, 
 the folly of bigotry, and the reafonablenefs of mu- 
 tual indulgence ; the curiofity which has led men in 
 every lituation to fuch fpeculations, and the influ- 
 ence which their, con clulions, however abfurd, have 
 had on their character and their happinefs, prove, no 
 lefs clearly, on the other,that there muft be fome prin- 
 ciples from which they all derive their origin ; and 
 invite the philofopher to afcertain what are thefe 
 original and immutable laws of the human mind. 
 
 " Examine" (fays Mr. Hume) " the religious prin- 
 ^^ ciples which have prevailed in the w^orld. You 
 *' will fcarcely be perfuaded, that they are any thing 
 " but fick men's dreams j or, perhaps, will regard 
 " them more as the playfome whimfies of monkeys 
 " in human fliape, than the ferious, pofitive, dog- 
 " matical afleverations of a being, who dignifies him- 
 
 " felf with the name of rational." " To oppofe 
 
 " the torrent of fcholaftic religion by fuch feeble 
 " maxims as thefe, that it is impoflible for the fame 
 '' thing to be and not to be ; that the whole is great- 
 *' er than a part ; thai two and three make five ; is 
 *' pretending to fl:op the ocean with a bulrufli.'* 
 But what is the inference to which we are led by 
 thefe obfervations ? Is it, (to ufe the words of this 
 ingenious writer,) " that the whole is a riddle, an 
 " aenigma, an inexplicable myftery j and that doubt. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINO. ^523 
 
 "^^ uncertainty, and fufpenfe, appear the only refult 
 " of our moft accurate fcrutiny concerning this fub- 
 *' jecl ?'* Or fliould not rather the melancholy hif^ 
 tories which he has exhibited of the follies and ca- 
 prices of fuperftition, direct our attention to thofe 
 facred and indelible chara6lers on the human mind, 
 which all thefe perveriions of reafon are unable to 
 obliterate ; like that image of himfelf, which Phidi- 
 as wifhed to perpetuate, by ftamping it fo deeply on 
 the buckler of his Minerva ; "^ ut nemo delere pof- 
 ^' fet aut divellere, qui totam ftatuam non imminuer- 
 " et."* In truth, the more ftriking the contradic- 
 tions, and the more ludicrous the ceremonies to 
 which the pride of human reafon has thus been rec- 
 onciled ; the ftronger is our evidence that religion 
 has a foundation in the nature of man. When the 
 greateft of modern philofophers declares, that " he 
 *' would rather believe all the fables in the Legend, 
 " and the Talmud, and Alcoran, than that tliis uni- 
 ^' verfal frame is without mind ;"t he has exprefled 
 the fame feeling, which, in all ages and nations, has 
 led good men, unaccuftomed to reafoning, to an 
 implicit faith in the creed of their infancy ; — a feel- 
 ing which affords an evidence of the ^xiftence of 
 the Deity, incomparably more ftriking, than if, 
 unmixed with error and undebafed by fuperlHtion, 
 this moft important of all principles had command- 
 ed the univerfal affent of mankind. Where are the 
 other truths, in the whole circle of the fciences, 
 which are fo effential to human happinefs, as to pro- 
 cure an eafy accefs, not only for themfelv€s, but for 
 whatever opinions may happen to be blended with 
 them ? Where are the truths fo venerable and com- 
 manding, as to impart their own fublimity to every 
 
 * Select Discourses by John Smith, p. 1 19. Cambridge, 1 67S. 
 .t Loid Bacon, in his Essays. 
 
324 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 trifling memorial which recals them to our remem- 
 brance ; to bellow folemnity and elevation on every 
 mode of expreflion by which they are conveyed ; and 
 which, in whatever fcene they have habitually occu- 
 pied the thoughts, confecrate every obje8: which it 
 prefents to our fenfes, and the very ground we have 
 been accuitomed to tread ? To attempt to weaken 
 the authority of fuch impreflions, by a detail of the 
 endlefs variety of forms, which they derive from 
 calual afTociations, is furely an employment unfuita- 
 ble to the dignity of philoibphy. To the vulgar, it 
 may be amuling, in this, as in other inff ances, to in- 
 dulge their wonder at what is new or uncommon ; 
 but to the philofopher it belongs to perceive, under 
 all thefe various difguiles, the workings of the fame 
 common nature ; and in the fuperftitions of Egypt, 
 no lefs than in the lofty vifions of Plato, to recog- 
 nize the exiilence of thofe moral ties which unite the 
 heart of man to the Author of his being. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 
 Influence of the AJfociation of Ideas on our Judgments in 
 Matters ofTafie. 
 
 THE very general obfervations which I am to 
 make in this Sedion, do not prefuppofe any particu- 
 lar theorv concerning the nature of Tafte. It is fuf- 
 ficient for my purpofe to remark, that Tafle is not 
 a fimple and original faculty, but a power gradually 
 formed by experience and oblervation. It implies, 
 indeed, as its ground-work, a certain degree of nat- 
 ural fenfibility ; but it implies alfo the exercife of 
 the judgment ; and is the flow refult of an attentive 
 examination and comparifon of the agreeable or difa- 
 greeable effects produced on the mind by external 
 objeds. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINB. 325 
 
 Such of my readers as are acquainted with *' An 
 " Effay on the Nature and Principies of Tafte," late- 
 ly publiflied by Mr. Alifon, will not be furprifed 
 that I decline the difcuilion of a fubjed: which he 
 has treated with fo much ingenuity and elegance. 
 
 The view which was formerly given of the pro- 
 cefs, by which the general laws of the material 
 world are inveftigated, and which I endeavoured to 
 illuftrate by the Sate of medicine among rude na- 
 tions, is ftridly applicable to the hiilory of Tafte. 
 That certain objeds are fitted to give pleafure, and 
 others difguft, to the mind, we know from experi- 
 ence alone ; and it is impollible for us, by any rea- 
 foning a priori^ to explain, how the pleafure or the 
 pain is produced. In the works of nature we find, 
 in many inftances. Beauty and Sublimity involved 
 among circumftances, which are either indifferent, 
 or which obftrucls the general efFed : and it is only 
 by a train of experiments, that we can feparate thofe 
 circumflantes from the reft, and afcertain with 
 what particular qualities the pleafing effect is con- 
 neded. x'^ccordingly, the inexperienced artift, 
 when he copies Nature, will copy her fervilely, that 
 he may be certain of fecuring the pleafing effect ; 
 and the beauties of his performances will be encum- 
 bered with a number of fuperfluous or of difagreea- 
 ble concomitants. Experience and obfervation a- 
 lone can enable him to make this difcrimination : 
 to exhibit the principles of beauty pure and unadul- 
 terated, and to form a creation of his own, more 
 faultlefs than ever fell under the obfervation of his 
 fenfes. 
 
 This analogy between the progrefs of Tafte from 
 rudenefs to refinement ; and the progrefs of phyfical 
 knowledge from the fuperftitions of a favage tribe, 
 to the inveftigation of the laws of nature, proceeds 
 on the fuppofition, that, as in the material world 
 there are general facts, beoynd which philofophy is 
 
326 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 unable to proceed ; fo, in the conftitution of man, 
 there is an inexplicable adaptation of the mind to 
 the objeds with which his faculties are converfant ; 
 in confequence of which, thefe objects are fitted to 
 produce agreeable or difagreeable emotions. In both 
 cafes, reafoning may be employed with propriety to 
 refer particular phenomena to general principles ; 
 but in both cafes, we mull at laft arrive at principles 
 of which no account can be given, but that fuch is 
 the will of our Maker. * 
 
 A great part, too, of the remarks which were 
 made in the lafl Sed:ion on the origin of popular 
 prejudices, may be applied to explain the influence 
 of cafual afl'ociations on Tafte ; but thefe remarks do 
 not fo completely exhauft thefubject, as to fuperfede 
 the neceflity of farther illuftration. In matters of 
 Tafte, the effects which we confider, are produced 
 on the Minditfelf ; and are accompanied either with 
 pleafure or with pain. Hence the tendency to cafual 
 afTociation, is much ftronger than it commonly is, 
 with refpecl to phyfical events ; and when fuch af- 
 fociations are once formed, as they do not lead to 
 any important inconvenience, fimilar to thofe which 
 refult from phyfical miftakes, they are not fo likely 
 to be corrected by mere experience, unaflifted by 
 ftudy. To this it is owing, that the influence of af- 
 fociation on our judgments concerning beauty and 
 deformity, is ftill more remarkable than on our fpec- 
 ulative conclulions ; a circumftance which has led 
 fome philofophers to fuppofe, that aflbciation is fuf- 
 ficient to account for the origin of thefe notions ; 
 and that there is no fuch thing as a ftandard of Tafte, 
 founded on the principles of the human conftitution. 
 But this is undoubtedly puftiing the theory a great 
 deal too far. The aflbciation of ideas can never ac- 
 count for the origin of a new notion ; or of a plea- 
 fure eflentially different from all the others which 
 we know. It may indeed, enable us to conceive 
 
O? THE HUMAN MIND. S27 
 
 how a thing indifferent in itfelf, may become a fource 
 of pleafure, by being conneded in the mind with 
 fomething elfe which is naturally agreeable ; but it 
 prefuppofcs, in every inftance, the exiftence of thofe 
 notions and thofe feelings which it is its province to 
 combine : infomuch that, I apprehend, it will be 
 found, wherever affociation produces a change in 
 our judgments on matters of Tafte, it does io, by co- 
 operating with fome natural principle of the mind;, 
 and implies the exiftence of certain original fources 
 of pleafure and uneaiinefs. 
 
 A mode of drefs, which at firft appeared awkward, 
 acquires, in a few weeks or months, the appearance 
 o£ elegance. By being accuflomed to fee it worn 
 by thofe whom we conSder as models of Tafte, it be- 
 comes affociated with the agreeable impreflicms 
 which we receive from the eafe and grace and re- 
 finement of their manners. When it pleafes by it- 
 felf, the effect is to be afcribed, not to the objed: ac- 
 tually before us, but to the impreflions with which 
 it has been generally connected, and which it nat- 
 urally recals to the mind. 
 
 This obfervatioR points out the caufe of the perpet- 
 ual viciffitudes in drefs, and in every thing whofe 
 chief recommendation arifes from faihion. It is evi- 
 dent that, as far as the agreeable effed: of an orna- 
 ment arifes from aflbciation, the effedt will continue 
 only while it is confined to the higheft orders. When 
 it is adopted by the multitude, it not only ceafes to 
 be affociated with ideas of tafte and refinement, but 
 it is affociated with ideas of affedation, abiurd imi- 
 tation, and vulgarity. It is accordingly laid afide 
 by the higher orders, who ftudioully avoid every 
 circumftance in external appearance, which is dc- 
 bafed by low and common ufe ; and they are led to 
 exercife their invention, in the introduction of fome 
 new peculiarities, which firft become fafhionable, 
 then common, and laft of all, are abandoned as vul- 
 gar. 
 
528 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 It has been often remarked, that after a certain 
 period in the progrefs of fociety, the public Tafle 
 becomes corrupted ; and the different produdions 
 of the fine arts begin to degenerate from that fim- 
 plicity, which they had attained in their ftate of 
 greateil perfection. One reafon of this decline is 
 fuggefted by the foregoing obfervations. 
 
 From the account which has been given of the 
 natural progrefs of Tafte, in feparating the genuine 
 principles of beauty from fuperiluous and from of- 
 fenlive concomitants, it is evident, that there is a 
 limit, beyond which the love of fimplicity cannot be 
 carried. No bounds, indeed, can be fet to the cre- 
 ations of genius ; but as this quality occurs feldogi 
 in an eminent degree, it commonly happens, that 
 after a period of great refinement of Tafte, men be- 
 gin to gratify their love of variety, by adding fu- 
 perfluous circumllances to the finifhed models ex- 
 hibited by their predeceflors, or by making other 
 trifling alterations on them, with a view merely of 
 diveriifying the effed. Thefe additions and altera- 
 tions, indifferent, perhaps, or even in fome degree 
 offenfive in them.felves, acquire foon a borrowed 
 beauty, from the connexion in which we fee them, 
 or from the influence of fafliion ; the fame caufe 
 which at firft produced them, continues perpetually 
 to increafe their number ; and Tafte returns to bar- 
 barifm, by almoft the fame fteps which conduded 
 it to perfection. 
 
 The truth of thefe remarks will appear ftill more 
 Unking to thofe who con Oder the wonderful effect 
 which a writer of fplendid genius but of incorred 
 tafte, has in misleadir^g the public judgn.ent. The 
 peculiarities of fuc-i an author are confecrated by 
 the' connexion in which we fee them, and even 
 pleafe, to a certain degree, when detached from the 
 excellencies of his composition, by recalling to us 
 the agreeable impreffions with which they have been 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 329 
 
 formerly aflbciated. How many imitations have 
 we feen, of the affedtations of Sterne, by men who 
 were unable to copy his beauties ? And yet thefe 
 imitations of his defers ; of his abrupt manner ; of 
 his minute fpecifications of circumftances ; and e- 
 ven of his dafhes, produce, at firft, fome effect on 
 readers of fenfibility, but of uncultivated tafte, in 
 confequence of the exquiiite ftrokes of the pathetic, 
 and the fingular vein of humour, with which they 
 are united in the original. 
 
 From what has been faid, it is obvious, that the 
 circumftances which please, in the objeds of Tafte, 
 are of Two kinds : Firft, thofe which are fitted to 
 pleafe by nature, or by affociations which all man- 
 kind are led to form by their common condition ; 
 and Secondly, thofe which pleafe in confequence of 
 affociations arifing from local and accidental circum- 
 ftances. Hence, there are two kinds of Tafte : the 
 one enabling us to judge of thofe beauties which 
 have a foundation in the human conftitution ; the 
 other, of fuch objects as derive their principal rec- 
 ommendation from the influence of fafliion. 
 
 Thefe two kinds of Tafte are not always united in 
 the fame perfon : indeed, I am inclined to think, 
 that they are united but rarely. The perfedicm of 
 the one, depends much upon the degree in which 
 we are able to free the mind from the influence of 
 cafual affociations ; that of the other, on the contra- 
 ry, depends on a facility of affociation which ena- 
 bles us to fall in, at once, with ail the turns of the 
 fafliion, and (as Shakefpeare exprefles it,) "to catch 
 the tune of the times." 
 
 I fliall endeavour to illuftrate fome of the forego- 
 ing remarks, by applying them to the fubje<5l of 
 language, which affords numberlefs inftances to ex- 
 emplify the influence which the affociation of ideas 
 has on our judgments in matters of Tafte. 
 
 In the fame manner in which an article of drefs 
 S s 
 
330 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 acquires an appearance of elegance or of vulgarity 
 from the perfons by whom it is habitually worn y fo 
 a particular mode of pronunciation acquires an air 
 of fafhion or of rufticity, from the perfons by whom 
 it is habitually employed. The Scotch accent is 
 furely in itfelf as good as the Englifti ; and with a 
 few exceptions, is as agreeable to the ear : and yet 
 how ofFenfive does it appear, even to us, who have 
 been accuftomed to hear it from our infancy, when 
 compared with that which is ufed by our fouthern 
 neighbours ! — No reafon can be given for this, but 
 that thf capital of Scotland is now become a provin- 
 cial town, and London is the feat of our court. 
 
 The diftinclion which is to be found, in the lan- 
 guages of all civilifed nations, between low and po- 
 lite modes of expreffion, arifes from fimilar caufes. 
 It is, indeed, amufing to remark, the folicitude with 
 which the higher orders, in the monarchies of mod- 
 ern Europe, avoid every circumftance in their exte- 
 rior appearance and manner, which, by the moft 
 remote affociation, may in the minds of others, 
 connect them with the idea of the multitude. Their 
 whole drefs and deportment and converfation are 
 ftudioufly arranged to convey an impofing notion 
 of their confequence ; and to recal to the fpeflator 
 by numberlefs flight and apparently unintentional 
 hints, the agreeable impreffions which are affocia- 
 ted with the advantages of fortune. 
 
 To this influence of aflbciation on language, it is 
 necefTary for every writer to attend carefully, who 
 wifhes to exprefs himfelf with elegance. For the 
 attainment of correclnefs and purity in the ufe of 
 words, the rules of grammarians and of critics may 
 be a fufficient guide ^ but it is not in the works ©f 
 this clafs of authors, that the higher beauties of 
 flyle are to be ftudied. As the air and manner of 
 a gentleman can be acquired only by living habitu- 
 ally in the befl fociety, fo grace in compufition mufl 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 331 
 
 be attained by an habitual acquaintance with clafli- 
 cal writers. It is indeed neceflary fo^ our informa- 
 tion, that we ihould perufe occafionally, many books 
 which have no merit in point of expreffion ; but I 
 believe it to be extremely ufeful to all literary men, 
 to counterad the efFed of this mifcellaneous reading, 
 by maintaining a conftant and familiar acquaintance 
 with a few of the moil faultlefs models which the 
 language affords. For want of fome ftandard of 
 this fort, we frequently fee an author's tafte in wri- 
 ting alter much to the worfe in the courfe of his 
 life ; and his later productions fall below the level 
 of his early effays. D'Alembert tells us, that Vol- 
 taire had always lying on his table, the Petit Car- 
 cniie of Maffillon, and the tragedies ot Racine ; the 
 former to fix his tafte in profe compoiition, and the 
 latter in poetry. 
 
 In avoiding, however, expreflions which are de- 
 bafed by vulgar ufe, there is a danger of running 
 into the other extreme, in queft of fafluonable 
 vi^ords and phrafes. Such an affedlation may, for a 
 few years, gratify the vanity of an author, by giv- 
 ing him the air of a man of the world; but the rep- 
 utation it beftows, is of a very tranfitory nature. 
 The works which continue to pleafe from age to 
 age, are written with perfed fimplicity ; while thofe 
 which'captivate the multitude by a display of mere- 
 tricious ornaments, if, by chance, they Ihould fur- 
 vive the fafliions to which they are accommodated, 
 remain only to furnilh a fubjecl of ridicule to pof- 
 terity. The portrait of a beautiful woman, in the 
 fafliionable drefs of the day, may pleafe at the mo- 
 ment it is painted ; nay, may perhaps pleafe more 
 than in any that the fancy of tlie artift could have 
 fugqjefted ; but it is only in the plainefl and fimpleft 
 drapery, that the moft perfect form can be tranf- 
 mitted with advantage to future tinies. 
 
 The exceptions which the hiftory of literature 
 
3-32 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 feems to furnifli to thefe obfervations, are only ap- 
 parent. That, in the works of our beft autliors, 
 there are many beauties which have long and gen- 
 erally been admired, and which yet owe their whole 
 efFed to affociation, cannot be disputed : but in iuch 
 cafes, it will always be found, that the afTocia- 
 tions which are the foundation of our pleafure, 
 have, in confequence of fome peculiar combination 
 of circumftances, been more widely difFufed, and 
 more permanently eftablifhed among mankind, 
 than thofe which date their origin from the capri- 
 ces of our own age are ever likely to be. An ad- 
 miration for the claflical remains of antiquity is, at 
 prefent, not lefs general in Europe, than the advan- 
 tages of a liberal education : and that fuch is the ef- 
 fect of this admiration, that there are certain capri- 
 ces of Tafte, from which no man who is well edu- 
 cated is entirely free. A compofition in a modern 
 language, which fliould fometimes depart from the 
 ordinary modes of expreffion, from an affedation of 
 the idioms which are confecrated in the claffies, 
 would pleafe a very wide circle of readers, in con- 
 fequence of the prevalence of claflical aflbciations ; 
 and, therefore, iuch afFe<51:ations, however abfurd 
 when carried to a degree of Angularity, are of a far 
 fuperior clafs to thofe which are adapted to the fafli- 
 ions of the day. But ttill the general principle 
 holds true, that whatever beauties derive their ori- 
 gin merely from cafual aflbciation, muft appear ca- 
 pricious to thofe to whom the aflbciation does not 
 extend ; and that th^ fimplefl: fl:yle is that which 
 continues longefl: to pleafe, and which pleafes mofl: 
 univerfally In the writings of Mr. Harris, there is 
 a certain claflical air, which will always have many 
 admirers, while antient learning continues to be 
 cultivated ; but which, to a mere Englifli reader, 
 appears fomewhat unnatural and ungraceful, when 
 compared with the compolition of Swift or of Ad- 
 difon. 
 
QF THE HUMAN MmD. 333 
 
 The analogy of the arts of ftatuary and painting, 
 may be of ufe in ill u ft rating thefe remarks. The 
 influence of antient times has extended to thefe, as 
 well as lo the art of writing ; and in this cafe, no 
 lefs than in the other, the tranfcendant power of 
 genius has eftabliflied a propriety of choice in mat- 
 ters of indifference, and has, perhaps, confecrated, 
 in the opinion of mankind, fbme of its own caprices. 
 
 " Many of the ornaments of art," (fays Sir J( >ftiua 
 Reynolds,) " thofe at leaft for which no reafon can 
 *^ be given, are tranfmitted to us, are adopted, and 
 " acquire their confequence, from the company in 
 *' which we have been uied to fee them. As Greece 
 *' and Rome are the fountains from whence have 
 " flowed all kinds of excellence, to that veneration 
 *V which they have a right to claim for the pleafure 
 " and knowledge which they have afforded us, we 
 *' voluntarily add our approbation of every orna- 
 " ment and every cuftom that belonged to them, 
 *' even to the fafliion of their drefs. For it may be 
 " obferved, that, not fatisfied with them in their 
 " own place, we make no difficulty of drefling ftat- 
 *' utes of modern heroes or fenators in the fafhion 
 " of the Roman armour, or peaceful robe ; and e- 
 " ven go fo far as hardly to bear a ftatue in any oth- 
 " er drapery.** 
 
 " The figures of the great men of thofe nations 
 ** have come down to us in fculpture. In fculpture 
 ** remain almoft all the excellent fpecimens of ancient 
 *' art. We have fo far aflbciated perfonal dignity 
 *' to the perfons thus reprefented, and the truth of 
 *' art to their manner of reprefentation, that it is not 
 *« in our power any longer to feparate them. This 
 *« is not fo in painting : becaufe, having no excellent 
 *' ancient portraits, that connection was never form- 
 " ed. Indeed, we could no more venture to paint 
 " a general ofiicer in a Roman military habit, than 
 *f we could make a llatue in the prefent uniform. 
 
36-4 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 «' But fince we have no ancient portraits, to fhew 
 *' how ready we are to adopt thofe kind of prejudi- 
 <« ces, we make the beft authority among the mod- 
 '^ erns ferve the fame purpofe. The great variety of 
 <« excellent portraits with which Vandyke has en- 
 " riched this nation, we are not content to admire 
 *^ for their real excellence, but extend our approba- 
 " tion even to the drefs which happened to be the 
 «* fafliion of that age. By this means, it muft be 
 *' acknowledged, very ordinary pidlures acquired 
 '' fomething of- the air and effecl of the works of 
 " Vandyke, and appeared therefore, at firft fight, 
 ** better pidlures than they really were. They ap- 
 *' peared fo however, to thofe only who had the 
 " means of making this afibciation."* 
 
 The influence of affociation on our notions con- 
 cerning language, is ftill more ftrongly exempUfied 
 in poetry than in profe. As it is one great objedt 
 of the poet, in his ferious productions, to elevate the 
 imagination of his readers above the groffnefs of fen- 
 lible objects, and the vulgarity of common life, it be- 
 comes peculiarly neceifary for him to rejed the ufe 
 of all words and phrafes which are trivial and hack- 
 neyed. Among thofe which are equally pure and 
 equally perfpicuous, he, in general, finds it expedient 
 to adopt that which is the leaft common. Milton 
 prefers the words Rhene and Danaw, to the more 
 common words Rhine aud Danube. 
 
 " A multitude, like which the populous North 
 <* Pour'd never from his frozen loins, to pass 
 ** Rhene or the Danaw."t 
 
 In the following line, 
 
 " Things unatteaipted yet in prose or rhyme/* 
 
 ♦Reynold's Discourses, p. 313, etseq. 
 t Paradise Lost, book i. I. 351, 
 
OF THE Human mind. 335 
 
 how much more fuitable to the poetical ftyle does 
 the expreffion appear, than if the author had faid, 
 
 " Things unattempted yet in prose or verse." 
 
 In another paflage, where, for the fake of variety, 
 he has made ufe of the laft phrafe, he adds an epi« 
 thct, to remove it a little from the familiarity of or- 
 dinary difcourfe, 
 
 -*' in prose or numerous verse."* 
 
 In confequence of this circumftance, there arifes 
 gradually in every language a poetical diction, 
 which differs widely from the common dicl:ion of 
 profe. It is much lefs fubjed to the vicifTitudes of 
 fafhion, than the polite modes of expreflion in fa- 
 miliar converfation ; becaufe, when it has once been 
 adopted by the poet, it is avoided by good profe 
 writers, as being too elevated for that fpecies of com- 
 pofiiion. It may therefore retain its charm, as long 
 as the language exifts ; nay, the charm may increafe, 
 as the language grows older. 
 
 Indeed, the charm of poetical diction muft increafe 
 to a certain degree, as polite literature advances. 
 For when once a fet of words has been confecrated 
 to poetry, the very found of them, independently of 
 the ideas they convey, awakens, every time we hear 
 it, the agreeable imprellions which were connected 
 with it when we met with them in the performan- 
 ces of our favorite authors. Even when ilrung to- 
 gether in fentences which convey no meaning, they 
 produce fome effed: on the mind of a reader of fen- 
 iibility : an effedt, at leaft, extremely different from 
 that of an unmeaning fentence in profe. 
 
 Languages differ from each other widely in the 
 copioulnefs of their poetical didion. Our own pof- 
 
 * Paradise Lost, book i. I. 150. See Newton's Edit. 
 
336 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 feffes, in this refpec^, important advantages over the 
 French : not that, in this language, there are no 
 words appropriated to poetry, but becaufe their 
 number is, comparatively fpeaking, extremely lim- 
 ited. 
 
 The fcantinefs of the French poetical di^lion is, 
 probably, attended with the lefs inconvenience, that 
 the phrafes which occur in good profe writing are 
 lefs degraded by vulgar application than in Englifh, 
 in confequence of the line being more diftind:ly and 
 more ftrongly drawn between polite and low ex- 
 preffions in that language than in ours. Our po- 
 ets, indeed, by having a language appropriated 
 to their own purpofes, not only can preferve a 
 dignity of expreflion, but can connect with the 
 perufal of their compofitions, the plealing im- 
 preffions which have been produced by thofe of 
 their predeceffors. And hence, in the higher forts 
 of poetry where their object is to kindle, as much 
 as poflible, the enthufiafm of their readers, they 
 not only avoid, fludioufly, all expreflions which 
 are vulgar, but all fuch as are borrowed from falh- 
 ionable life. This certainly cannot be done in an 
 equal degree by a poet who writes in the French lan- 
 guage. 
 
 In Englifh, the poetical didion is fo extremely co- 
 pious, that it is liable to be abufed ; as it puts it in 
 the power of authors of genius, merely by ringing 
 changes on the poetical vocabulary, to give a certain 
 degree of currency to the moft unmeaning compo- 
 fitions. In Pope's Song by a Per/on of Quality^ the 
 incoherence of ideas is fcarceiy greater than what is 
 to be found in fome admired paffages of our fafh- 
 ionable poetry. 
 
 Nor is it merely by a difference of words, that the 
 language of poetry is diflin^uifhed from that of 
 profe. When a poetical arrangement of words has 
 once been eiiablifhed by authors of reputation, the 
 moft common expreflions. by being prefented in this 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. SS7 
 
 ©onfecrated order, may ferve to excite poetical aflb- 
 ciatioiis. 
 
 On the other hand, nothing more completely de- 
 ftroys the charm of poetry, than a tiring of words 
 which the cuftom of ordinary difcourfe has arran- 
 ged in fo invariable an order, that the whole phrafe 
 ,may be anticipated from hearing its commencement. 
 A lingle word frequently ftrikes us as flat and profaic, 
 in confequence of its familiarity ; but two fuch 
 words coupled together in the order of converfation 
 can fcarcely be introduced into ferious poetry with- 
 out appearing ludicrous. 
 
 No poet in our language has fhewn fo ftrikingly 
 as Milton, the wonderftil elevation which ftyle may 
 derive from an arrangement of words, which, while 
 it is perfedly intelligible, departs widely from that 
 to which we are in general accuftomed. M?.ny of 
 his moft fublime periods, when the order of the words 
 is altered, are reduced nearly to the level of profe. 
 
 To copy this artifice with fuccefs, is a much more 
 difficult attainment than is commonly imagined ; 
 and, of confequence, when it is acquired, it fecures 
 an author, t© a great degree, from that crowd of imi- 
 tators who fpoil the efFed of whatever is noj: beyond 
 their reach. To the poet who ufes blank verfe, it is 
 an acquifition of ftill more efTential confequence than 
 to him who exprelTes himfelf in rhyme ; for the 
 more that the ftrudlure of the verfe approaches iq 
 profe, the more it is necelfary to give novelty and 
 dignity to the compofition. And accordingly, a- 
 mong our magazme poets, ten thoufand catch the 
 ftruAure of Pope's vorfification, for one who ap* 
 proaches to the manner of Milton, or of Thomfon. 
 
 The facility, however, of this imitation, like eve- 
 ry other, increafes with the number of thole who 
 have ftudied it with fuccefs ; for the more numer- 
 ous the authors who have employed their genius in 
 any one dire6bion, the more copious are the materi- 
 
SS8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 als out of which mediocrity may felec^ and combine, 
 fo as to efcapc the charge of plagair'-fm. And, in 
 fa6l, in our own language, this, as well as the other 
 great refource of poetical expreflion, the employ- 
 ment of appropriated words, has had its efFe6l fo 
 much impaired by the abule which has been made 
 of it, that a few of our beft poets of late have en- 
 deavored to ftrike out a new path for themfelves, by 
 refting the elevation of their compofition chiefly on 
 a fingular, and, to an ordinary writer, an unattaina- 
 ble union of harmonious verlification, with a natu- 
 ral arrangement of words, and a fimple elegance of 
 expreflion. It is this union which feems to form 
 the diftinguifliing charm of the poetry of Gold- 
 fmith. 
 
 From the remarks which have been made on t he 
 influence of the aflbciation of ideas on our ju dg- 
 ments in matters of tafte, it is obvious how much 
 the opinions of a nation with refped to merit in 
 the fine arts, are likely to be influenced by the form 
 of their government, and the ftate of their man- 
 ners. Voltaire, in his difcourfe pronounced at his 
 reception into the French academy, gives feveral 
 reafons why the poets of that country have not fuc- 
 ceeded in defcribing rural fcenes and employm.ents. 
 The principal one is, the ideas of meannefs, and pov- 
 erty and wretchednefs, which the French are accuf- 
 tomed to aflcKiate with the profefiion of hufbandry. 
 The fame thing is alluded to by the Abbe de Lille, in 
 the preliminary difcourfe prefixed to his tranflation 
 of the Georgics. " A tranflation," fays he, " of this 
 *' poem, if it had been undertaken by an author of 
 " genius, would have been better calculated than 
 '* any other work, for adding to the riches of our 
 " language. A verfion of the ^neid itfelf, howev- 
 *« er well executed, would, in this refped:, be of lefs 
 " utility ; inafmuch as the genius of our tongue ac- 
 *' commodates itfelf m.ore eafily to the defcription 
 
QF THE HUMAN MIND. 559^ 
 
 " of heroic achievements, than to the details of nat- 
 " ural phenomena, and of the operations of hufband- 
 " ry. To force it to exprefs thefe with fuitable dig- 
 " nity, would have been a real conqueft over that 
 " falfe delicacy, which it has contracted from our 
 " unfortunate prejudices." 
 
 How different muft have been the emotions with 
 which this divine performance of Virgil was read by 
 an ancient Roman, while he recoiieded that period 
 in the hiftory of his country, when dictators were 
 called from the plough to the defence of the ftate, 
 and after having led monarchs in triumph, returned 
 again to the fame happy and independent occupa- 
 tion. A ftate of manners to which a Roman author 
 of a later age looked back with fuch enthujlafm, 
 that he afcribes, by a bold poetical figure, the flour- 
 ifhing ftate of agriculture under the republic, to the 
 grateful returns which the earth then made to the 
 illuftrious hands by which flxe was cultivated. — 
 " Gaudente terra vomere laureato, et triumphali 
 " aratore.'** 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Oft/je Influence of AJfodation on our aBive PrincipleSy and 
 on our moral Judgments, 
 
 IN order to illuftrate a little farther, the influ- 
 ence of the Affociation of Ideas on the human mind, I 
 fhall add a few remarks on lome of its eft'edls on our 
 a6live and moral principles. In ftating thefe re- 
 marks, I fliall endeavor to avoid, as much as poflible, 
 every occafion of controverfy, by confining myfelf 
 to fuch general views of the fubje<5t, as do not pre- 
 fuppofe any particular enumeration of our original 
 principles of acT:ion, or any particular fyflera con- 
 
 * riin. Nat. Hiit.xviiL 4. 
 
340 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 cerning the nature of the moral faculty. If my 
 health and leifure enable me to carry my plans into 
 execution, I propofe, in the fequel of this work, to 
 refume thefe inquiries, and to examine the various 
 opinions to which they have given rife. 
 
 The manner in which the aifjciation of ideas ope- 
 rates in producing new principles of adion, has been 
 explained very diltindlly by different writers. What- 
 ever conduces to the gratification of any natural ap- 
 petite, or of any natural defire, is itfelf defired on 
 account of the end to which it is fubfervient ; and 
 by being thus habitually affociated in our apprehen- 
 lion with agreeable objects, it frequently comes, in 
 procefs of time, to be regarded as valuable in itfelf, 
 independently of its utility. It is thus that wealth 
 becomes, with many, an ultimate obje6l of purfuit ; 
 although, at firft, it is undoubtedly valued, merely 
 on account of its fubferviency to the attainm.ent of 
 other objecls. In like manner, men are led to defire 
 drefs, equipage, retinue, furniture, on account of the 
 eftimation in which they are fuppofed to be held by 
 the public. Such delires are called by Dr. Hutche- 
 l^on* fecondary defires ; and the origin is explained 
 by him in the way which I have mentioned. " Since 
 *' we are capable," fays he, " of reflection, memory, 
 " obfervation, and reafoning about the diltant ten- 
 " dencies of objects and actions, and not confined to 
 " things prefent, there muft arife, in confequenceof 
 *' our original delires, fecondary deOres of every 
 *' thing imagined ufeful to gratify any of the primg^ 
 '* ry defires ; and that with ftrength proportioned to 
 ** the feveral original defires, and imagined ufeful- 
 *^* nefs or neceflity of the advantageous objed." — 
 " Thus," he continues, " as foon as we con^e to ap- 
 " prehend the ufe of wealth or power to gratify any 
 *' of our original defires, we muft alfo defire them ; 
 " and hence arifes the univerfality of thefe defires 
 
 * See his Essay on the Nature and Conduct of the Passions. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINB. 341 
 
 " of wealth and power, fince they are the means of 
 *« gratifying all other defires." The only thing that 
 appears to me exceptionable in the foregoing paf- 
 fage is, that the author claffes the defire of power 
 with that of wealth ; whereas I apprehend it to be 
 clear, (for reafons which I (hall ftate in another part 
 of this work,) that the former is a primary defire, 
 and the latter a fecondary one. 
 
 Our moral judgments, too, may be modified, and 
 even perverted, to a certain degree, in confequence 
 of the operation of the lame principle. In the fame 
 manner in which a perfon who is regarded as a mo- 
 del of tafi:e may introduce, by his example, an abfurd 
 or fantaftical drefs ; fo a man of fplendid virtues 
 may attract fome efteem alfo to his imperfections ; 
 and, if placed in a confpicuous fituation, may render 
 his vices and follies objeiEls of general imitation 
 among the multitude. 
 
 " In the reign of Charles 11." fays Mr. Smith,* 
 " a degree of licentioufnefs was deemed the charac- 
 ** terillic of a liberal education. It was conneded, 
 " according to the notions of thofe times, with gen- 
 <« erofity, fincerity, magnanimity, loyalty ; and pro- 
 « ved that the perfon who aded in this manner, was 
 " a gentlem^, and not a puritan. Severity of man- 
 " riers, and regularity of conduct, on the other hand, 
 " were altogether unfafliionable, and were connedt- 
 <« ed, in the imagination of that age, with cant^ cun- 
 " ning, hypocrify, and low manners. To fuperfi- 
 " cial minds, the vices of the great feem at all times 
 " agreeable. They jonneft them, not only with 
 ** the fplendor of fortune, but with many fuperior 
 ** virtues which they afcribe to their fuperiors ; with 
 " the. fpirit of freedom and independency ; with 
 *' franknefs, generofity, humanity, and poUtenefs. 
 
 *' The virtues of the inferior ranks of people, on 
 
 • 
 
 * Theory of Moral Sentiments. 
 
342 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " the contrary, their parfimonious frugality, their 
 " painful induftry, and rigid adherence to rules, 
 " feeni to them mean and difagreeable. They con- 
 " ned them both with the meannefs of the ftation 
 " to which thefe qualities commonly belong, and 
 " with many great vices which they fuppofe ufually 
 " accompany them ; fuch as an abjefl, cowardly, ill- 
 *' natured, lying, pilfering difpofition." 
 
 The theory which, in the foregoing palTages from 
 Hutchefonand Smith, is employed fojuftly and phi- 
 lofophically to explain the origin of our fecondary 
 defires, and to account for fome perverfions of our 
 moral judgments, has been thought fufficient, by 
 fome later writers, to account for the origin of all 
 our adive principles without exception. The firft 
 of thefe attempts to extend fo very far the applica- 
 tion of the dv)dlrine of Aflbciation was made by the 
 Rev, Mr. Gay, in a diifertation " concerning the 
 " fundamental Principle of Virtue," which is prefix- 
 ed by Dr. Law to his tranilation of Archbifhop 
 King's Effay " On the Origin of Evil." In this 
 differtation, the author endeavours to fhew, " that 
 " our approbation of morality, and all affeclions 
 '' whatfoever, are finally refolvable into reafon, 
 " pointing out private happinefs, and are conver- 
 '' fant 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 aflbciation of ideas, and may properly 
 " be called habits" The fame principles have been 
 fince pufhed to a much greater length by Dr. Hart- 
 ley, whofe fyftem (as he himfelf informs us) took 
 rife from his accidentally hearing it mentioned as 
 an opinion of Mr. Gay, " that the afl()ciation of i- 
 " deas was fufficient to account for all our intelled:- 
 *' ual pleafures and pains*." 
 
 *Mr. Hume too, who in mj opinion has carried this principle 
 ©f the Association of Ideas a great deal too far; has compared the 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 34S 
 
 It muft, I think, in juftice, be acknowledged, 
 that this theory, concerning the origin of our affect- 
 ions, and of the moral fense, is a moft ingenious re- 
 finement upon the felfifh fyftem, as it was formerly 
 taught ; and that, by means of it, the force of many 
 of the common reafonings againft that fyftem is e- 
 luded. Among thefe reafonings, particular ftrefs 
 has always been laid on the inftantaneousnefs with 
 which our affe(^ions operate, and the moral fenfe 
 approves or condemns ; and on our total want of 
 confcioufnefs, in fuch cafes, of any reference to our 
 own happinefs. The modern advocates for the 
 felfifh fyftem admit the fad to be as it is ftated by 
 their opponents ; and grant, that after the moral 
 fense and our various affedlions are formed, their 
 exercife, in particular cafes, may become completely 
 difinterefted ; but ftill they contend, that it is upon 
 a regard to our own happinefs that all thefe princi- 
 ples are originally grafted. The analogy of avarice 
 will ferve to illuftrate the fcope of this theory. It 
 cannot be doubted that this principle of action is ar- 
 tificial. It is on account of the enjoyments which it 
 enables us to purchafe, that money is originally de- 
 fired ; and yet, in procefs of time, by means of the 
 agreeable impreffions which are afTociated with it, 
 it comes to be defired for its own fake ; and even 
 continues to be an objed of our purfuit, long after 
 we have loft all relifh for thofe enjoyments which it 
 enables us to command. 
 
 Without meaning to engage in any controverfy 
 on the fubjed, I fhall content myfelf with obferving, 
 in general, that there muft be fome limit, beyond 
 
 universality of its applications in the philosophy of nriind, 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.'* Trent, if Hum. Nat. vol. i. 
 p. 30 
 
344 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPIiy 
 
 which the theory of aflbciation cannot poflibly be car- 
 ried ; for the explanation which it gives, of the for- 
 mation of new principles of action, proceeds on the 
 fuppofition that there are other principles previoufly 
 exifling in the mind. The great queftion then is, 
 when we are arrived at this Umit ; or, in other 
 words, when we are arrived at the fimple and origin- 
 al laws of our conftitution. 
 
 In conducing this inquiry, philofophers have been 
 apt to go into extremes. Lprd Kaims, and fome 
 otherauthors, have been cenmred, and perhaps juft- 
 ly, for a difpofition to multiply original principles to 
 an unneceffary degree. It may be queftioned, whe- 
 ther Dr. Hartley, and his followers, have not fome- 
 times been milled by too eager a deiire of abridging 
 their number. 
 
 Of thefe two errors, the former is the leaft com- 
 mon, and the leaft dangerous. It is the leaft com- 
 mon, becaufe it is not fo flattering as the other to 
 the vanity of a theorift ; and it is the leaft danger- 
 ous, becaufe it has no tendency, like the other, to 
 give rife to a fuppreflion, or to a mifreprefentation 
 of fads ; or to retard the progrefs of the fcience, by 
 beftowing upon it an appearance of fyftematical per- 
 fedion, to which, in its prefent ftate, it is not enti- 
 tled. 
 
 Abftrading, however, from thefe inconveniences, 
 which muft always refult from a precipitate reference 
 of phenomena to general principles, it does not feem 
 to me that the theory in queftion has any tendency 
 to weaken the foundation of morals. It has, indeed, 
 fome tendency, in common with the philofophy of 
 Hobbes and of Mandeville, to degrade the dignity of 
 human nature ; but il leads to no fceptical conclu- 
 fions concerning the rule of life. For, although we 
 were to grant, that all our principles of action are 
 acquired ; fo ftriking a difference among them muft 
 ftill be admitted, as is fufiicient to diftinguifti clearly 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 345 
 
 thofe univerfal laws which where intended to regu- 
 late human condud, from the local habits which are 
 formed by education and fafliion. It muft ftill be 
 admitted, that while fome adive principles are con- 
 fined to particular individuals, or to particular tribes 
 of men ; there are others, which, arifing from cir- 
 cumftances in which all the lituations of mankind 
 mud agree, are common to the whole fpecies. Such 
 adive principles as fall under this laft defcription, 
 at whatever period of life they may appear, are to 
 be regarded as a part of human nature, no lefs than 
 the inftincl of fudion ; in the fame manner as the 
 acquired perception of ditlance by the eye, is to be 
 ranked among the perceptive powers of man, no lefs 
 than the original perceptions of lany of our other 
 fenfes. 
 
 Leaving, therefore, the queftion concerning the 
 origin of our adive principles, and of the moral fac- 
 ulty, to be the fubjed of future dilcuflion, I (hall 
 conclude this Sedion with a few remarks of a more 
 pradical nature. 
 
 It has been fhewn by different writers, how much 
 of the beauty and fublimity of n.aterial objeds arifes 
 from the ideas and feelings which we have been 
 taught to afTociate with them. The impreflion pro- 
 duced on^the external fenfes of a poet, by the moft 
 fir iking fcene in nature, is precifely the fame with 
 what is produced on the fenfes, of a peafant or a 
 tradefman ; yet how different is the degree of plea- 
 fure refulting from this impreflion ! A great part of 
 this difference is undoubtedly to be afcribed, to the 
 ideas and feelings which the habitual fludies and 
 amufetnents of the poet have affociated with his or- 
 ganical perceptions. 
 
 A fimilar obfervation may be applied to all the va- 
 rious objeds of our purfuit in life. Hardly any one 
 of them is appreciated by any two men in the fame 
 manner ; and frequently what one man confiders ^s 
 Uu 
 
346 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 effential to his happinefs, is regarded with indifier- 
 ence or diflike by another. Of thefe differences of 
 opinion, much is, no doubt, to be afcribed to a diverfi- 
 ty of conftitution, which renders a particular employ- 
 ment of the intellecftual or adive powers agreeable 
 to one man, which is not equally fo to another. But 
 much is alfo to be afcribed to the effefl of afTociation ; 
 which, prior to any experience of human life, con- 
 neds pleafmg ideas and pleafmg feelings with differ- 
 ent objedls, in the minds of different perfons. 
 
 In confequence of thefe afG)ciations, every man 
 appears to his neighbor to purfue the object of his 
 wifhes, with a zeal difproportioned to its intrinfic 
 value ; and the prilofopher (whofe principal enjoy- 
 ment arifes from fpeculation) is frequently apt to 
 fmile at the ardour with which the aftive part of 
 mankind purfue, what appear to him to be mere 
 fliadows. This view of human affairs, fome writers 
 have carried fo far, as to reprefent life as a fcene of 
 mere illuiions, where the mind refers to the objecls 
 around it, a coloring which exifts only in itfelf ; and 
 where, as the Poet expreffes it, 
 
 *' Opinion gilds with varying rays, 
 
 " Those painted clouds which beautify out days.*' 
 
 It may be queffioned, if thefe reprefentations of 
 human life be ufeful or juft. That the cafual affo- 
 ciations which the mind forms in childhood, and in 
 early youth, are frequently a fource of inconvenience 
 and of mifcondud, is fufliciently obvious ; but that 
 this tendency of our nature increafes, on the whole, 
 the fum of human enjoyment, appears to me to be 
 indifputable ; and the inftances in which it mifleads 
 us from our duty and our happinefs, only prove, to 
 what important ends it might be fubfervient, if it 
 were kept under proper regulation. 
 
 Nor do thefe leprefen tat ions of life (admitting 
 them in their full extent) julUf y the pradical infer- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 347 
 
 ences which have been often deduced from them,with 
 refpect to the vanity of our purfuits. In every cafe, 
 indeed, in which our enjoyment depends upon aflb- 
 ciaiion, it may be faid, in one fenfe, that it arifes 
 from the mind itfelf ; but it does not therefore fol- 
 low, that the external objed which cuftom has ren- 
 <lered the caufe or the occafion of agreeable emotions, 
 is indifferent to our happinefs. The efFed which 
 the beauties of nature produce on the mind of the 
 poet, is wonderfully heightened by aflbciation ; but 
 his enjoyment is not, on that account, the lefs exquif- 
 ite : nor are the objects of his admiration of the lefs 
 value to his happinefs, that they derive their princi- 
 pal charms from the embellifhments of his fancy. 
 
 It is the bufinefs of education, not to countera(51:, 
 in any inftance, the eftabliflied laws of our conftitu- 
 tion, but to dired: them to their proper purpofes. 
 That the influence of early aflbciations on the mind 
 might be employed, in the moft effectual manner, to 
 aid our moral principles, appears evidently from the 
 effects which we daily fee it produce, in reconciling 
 men to a courfe of adion which their reafon forces 
 them to condemn ; and it is no lefs obvious that, by 
 means of it, the happinefs of human life might be 
 increafed, and its pains diminiihed, if the agreeable 
 ideas and feelings which children are fo apt to con- 
 nect with events and with fituations which depend 
 on the caprice of fortune, were firmly affociated in 
 their apprehenfions with the duties of their ftations, 
 with the purfuits of fcience, and with thofe beauties 
 of nature which are open to all. 
 
 Thefe obfervations coincide nearly with the an- 
 tient ftoical doctrine concerning the influence of 
 imagination!*^ on morals ; a fubjedt, on which many im- 
 
 * According to the use which I make of the wonis Imagination 
 and Association, in this work, their effects are obviously distinguish- 
 able. I have thought it proper, however, to illustrate the difier- 
 ence between them a little more fully in Note [R.] 
 
348 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 portant remarks, (though expreffed in a form differ- 
 ent from that which modern philofophers have in- 
 troduced, and, perhaps, not altogether fo precife and 
 accurate,) are to be found in the Difcourfes of Epic- 
 tetus, and in the Meditations of Antoninus.* This 
 dodrine of the Stoical fchool, Dr. Akenfide has in 
 view in the following paffage : 
 
 " Action treads the path 
 " In which Opinion says he follows good, 
 <f 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 
 " 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."! 
 
 * See what Epictetus has remarked on the y^^an otx ^e7 (pavra- 
 fftwv. (Arrian, 1. i. c. 12.) 'Oia, av voXXaxis (pxvra.crOriS, roixvrvi cot 
 tartxi V ^latfoia. ^atrrtroii yot^ viro ruv (^xvroia-nifv ^ ^v^y,. ^onrri «» 
 «vT>3y, T*) (Tvn^iKx. ruv roturuv ^ocrraa-tuvj &C. &C. Allton, I. V. C 
 16. ' 
 
 t Pleasures of ImaginRtion, b iii* 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 349 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 General Remarks on the Subjeds treated in the foregoing 
 Sedions of this Chapter* 
 
 IN perufing the foregoing Sedions of this Chap, 
 ter, I am aware, that fome of my readers may be apt 
 to think that many of the obfeivations which I have 
 made, might eafily be refolved into more general 
 principles. I am alfo aware, that, to the followers 
 of Dr. Hartley, a fimilar objedlion will occur againft 
 all the other parts of this work; and that it will appear 
 to them the effed of inexcufable prejudice, that I 
 fhould ftop ftiort fo frequently in the explanation 
 of phenomena ; when he has accounted in fo fatif- 
 fadory a manner, by means of the aiTociation of 
 ideas, for all the appearances which human nature 
 exhibits. 
 
 To this objedion, I fhall not feel myfelf much in- 
 terefted to reply, provided it be granted that my 
 obfervations are candidly and accurately ftated fo 
 far as they reach. Suppofmg that in fome cafes I 
 may have flopped fhort too foon, my fpeculations, 
 although they may be cenfured as imperfeft, cannot 
 be confidered as Handing in oppofition to the conclu- 
 fions of more fuccefsful inquirers. 
 
 May I be allowed farther to obferve, that fuch 
 views of the human mind as are contained in this 
 work, (even fuppofing the obiedion to be well- 
 founded,) are, in my opinion, mdifpenfably necef- 
 fary, in order to prepare the way for thofe very ge- 
 neral and comprehenfive theories concerning it, 
 which fome eminent writers of the prefent age 
 have been ambitious to form. ? 
 
 Concerning the merit of thefe theories, I fhall not 
 prefume to give any judgment. I fhall only remark, 
 
330 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 that, in all the other fciences, the progrefs of difcov- 
 ery has been gradual, from the lefs general to the 
 more general laws of nature ; and that it would be 
 fingular, indeed, if, in the Philoiophy of the Hu- 
 man Mind, a fcience, which but a few years ago 
 was confeffedly in its infancy, and which certainly 
 labours under many difadvantages peculiar to itfelf, 
 a ilep fhould, all at once, be made to a fingle princi- 
 ple comprehending all the particular phenomena 
 Wtiich we know. 
 
 Suppofmg fuch a theory to be completely eftablifli- 
 ed, i. would dill be proper to lead the minds of flu- 
 dems to it by gradual fleps. One of the mofl 
 important ules of theory, is to give the memory a 
 permanent hold, and a prompt command, of the 
 particular facts which we were previoufly acquaint- 
 ed with ; and no theory can be completely under- 
 ftood, unlefs the mind be led to it nearly in the or- 
 der of invefligation. 
 
 It is more particularly ufeful, in conducing the 
 fludies of others, to familiarife their minds, as com- 
 pletely as poilible, with thofe laws of nature for 
 which we have the direct evidence of fenfe, or of 
 confcioufnefs, before directing their inquiries to the 
 more abftrufe and refined generalizations of fpecula- 
 tive curioiity. In natural philofophy, fuppofmg the 
 theory of Bofcovich to be true, it would llill be pro- 
 per, or rather indeed abfolutely necefTary, to accuf- 
 tom ftudents, in the firft flage of their phyfical edu- 
 cation, to dwell on thofe general phyfical fadts 
 which fall under our adual obfervation, and about 
 which all the practical arts of life are converfant. In 
 like manner, in the philofophy of mind, there are 
 many general facets for which we have the dire<ft 
 evidence of confciousnefs. The words Attention, 
 Conception, Memory, Abftraction, Imagination, 
 Curiofity, Ambition, Compaffion, Refentment, ex- 
 prefs powers and principles of our nature, which 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 351 
 
 every man may ftudy by refleding on his own in- 
 ternal operations. Words correfponding to thefe, 
 are to be found in all languages, ar.d may be corilid- 
 ered as forming the firft attempt towards a philo- 
 phical claflification of intellectual and mora) phe- 
 nomena. Such a claflification, however imperfect 
 and indiftindl, we may be affured, muft have fome 
 foundation in nature ; and it is at leaft prudent, for 
 a philofopher to keep it in view as the ground- work 
 of his own arrangement. It not only directs our 
 attention to thofe facts in the human conftitution, 
 on which every folid theory in this branch of fci- 
 ence muft be founded ; but to the fa^ts, which, in 
 all ages, have appeared to the common fenfe of man- 
 kind, to be the moft Itriking and important ; and of 
 which it ought to be the great object oi theorifts, 
 not to fupercede, but to facilitate the fludy. 
 
 There is indeed good reafon for believing, that 
 many of the facts which our confcioufnefs would 
 lead us to confider, upon a fuperficial view, as ulti- 
 mate fads are refolvable into other principles ftill 
 more general. '' Long before we are capable of 
 " reflection,** (fays Dr. Reid) " the original per- 
 " ceptions and notions of the mind are fo mixed, 
 " compounded and decompounded, by habits, affo^ 
 *' ciations, and abftractions, that it is extremely 
 " difKcult for the mind to return upon its own 
 *' footfteps, and trace back thofe operations which 
 " have employed it fince it firft began to think 
 " and to a6t." The fame author remarks, that, 
 " if we could obtain a diftinct and full hiftory 
 " of all that hath pafTed in the mind of a child, from 
 *' the begmning of life and fenfation, till it grows up 
 " to the ufe of reafon ; how its irifant faculties be- 
 ** gan to work, and how they brought forth and 
 " ripened all the various notions, opinions, and fenti- 
 *' mcnts, which we find in ourf elves when we come to 
 *' be capable of reflection j this would be a treafure of 
 
552 ELEMENTS OF TM£ PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " Natural Hiftory, which would probably give mote 
 " light into the human faculties, than all the fyftems 
 *^ oi philofophers about thetn, fince the beginning of 
 •* the world.*' To accomplifli an analyfis of thefe 
 complicated phenomena into the fimple and original 
 principles of our conftitution, is the great objedt of 
 this branch of philofophy ; but, in order to fucceed, 
 it is neceflkry to afcertain facls before we begin to 
 reafon. and to avoid generalizing, in any inftance, 
 till we have completely fecured the ground that we 
 have gained. Such a caution, which is neceflary in 
 all the iciences, is, in a more peculiar manner, necef- 
 fary here, where the very facts from which all 
 our inferences m.ufl: be drawn, are to be afcertain- 
 ed only by the moll patient attention ; and, where 
 almoil: all of them are, to a great degree, difguifed : 
 partly by the inaccuracies of popular language, and 
 partly by the miftaken theories of philofophers. 
 
 I have only to add, that, although I have retained 
 the phrafe of the Aflbciation of Ideas, in compliance 
 with common language, I am far from being com- 
 pletely fatisfied with this mode of exprellion. I have 
 retained it, chiefly that I might not expofe myfelf 
 to the cenfure of delivering old dodrines in a new- 
 form. 
 
 As I have endeavored to employ it with caution, 
 I hope that it has not often mifled me in my reafon- 
 ings. At the fame time, I am more and more con- 
 vinced of the advantages to be derived from a re- 
 formation of the common language, in moft of the 
 branches of fcience. How much fuch a reforma- 
 tion has effected in Chemiftry is well known ; and it 
 is evidently much more neceifary in the Philofophy 
 of Mind, where the prevailing language adds to the 
 common inaccuracies of popular expreilions, the pe- 
 culiar difad vantage of being all fuggefted by the a- 
 nalogy of matter. Often, in the compofition of this 
 
OP THE PIUMAN MIND. ^oH 
 
 work, have I recollecled the advice of Bergman to 
 Morveaui* '^ In reforming the nomenclature of 
 " chemiftry, fpare no word which is improper. 
 " They who underftand the fubjecl already, will iuf- 
 " fer no inconvenience ; and they to whom the fub- 
 " yi^ck is new, will comprehend it with the greater 
 " facility." But it belongs to fuch authors alone, 
 as have extended the boundaries of fcience by their 
 own difcoveries, to introduce innovations in lan- 
 guage with any hopes of fuccefs. 
 
 CHAPTER SIXTH. 
 
 OF MEMORY. 
 SF£TION I. 
 
 General Obfervations on Memory,. 
 
 AMONG the various powers of the underftand- 
 ing there is none which has been fo attentively ex- 
 amined by philofophers, or concerning which Id ma- 
 ny important fads and obfervations have been col- 
 lected, as the faculty of Memory. This is partly to 
 be afcribed to its nature, which renders it eafily dif- 
 tinguifhable from all the other principles of our con- 
 llitution, even by thofe who have not been accui- 
 tomed to metaphyfical invefligations, and partly to 
 
 * '* Lesavam Prof^sseur crUpsal, M. Bergman, ccrivoit 
 "^ a iVl. de Morveau dans les derniers teinj^s dc sa vie, ne 
 " laites graces a aucune denoii)inaiion impropre. Ctux 
 " qui savent deja entendiont toujours ; ceux qui ne savenc 
 " pas encore tntendronl plutoi." Mediode de Noinei.clat. 
 Chemiqae,par MM. Morveau, Lavoisier, &c. 
 Ww 
 
354} ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 its immediate fubferviency, not only to the purfuits 
 of fcience, but to the ordinary bulinefs of life ; in 
 confequence of which, many of its moft curious laws 
 had been obferved, long before any analyfis was at. 
 tempted of the other powers of the mind ; and have 
 for many ages, formed a part of the common max- 
 ims which 'Afe to be found in every treatife of edu- 
 cation. Some important remarks on the fubjecf, 
 may, in particular, be collected from the writings of 
 the ancient rhetoriciaas. 
 
 The word Memory is not employed uniformly in 
 the fame precife ferife ; but it always expreifes fome 
 modification of that faculty, which enables us to 
 treafure up, and preferve for future ufe, the knowl- 
 edge we acquire ; a faculty which is obvioufly the 
 great foundation of ail intellectual improvement, and 
 without which, no advantai^e could be derived from 
 the moft enlarged experience. This faculty implies 
 two things : a capacity of retaining knowledge ^ 
 and a power of recalling it to our thoughts when 
 we have occafion to apply it to ufe. The word 
 Memory isfometimes employed to exprefs the capa- 
 city, and fometimes the power. When we fpeak of 
 a retentive memory, we ufe It in the former fenfe ; 
 Yv^hen, of a ready memory, in the latter. 
 
 The various particulars which compofe our ftock 
 of knowledge arc, from time to time, recalled to our 
 thoughts, in one of two ways ;^ ibfnetimes they re- 
 cur lo us fpontaneoufly, or at lead, without any in- 
 terference on our part ; in other cafes, they are re- 
 called, in confequence of an effort of our will. For 
 the former operation of the mind, we have no ap- 
 propriated name in our language, diflincl from Mem- 
 ory. The latter, too, is often called by the fame 
 name, but is more properly diflinguillied by the 
 word Recolle6lion, 
 
 There are, I believe, fome other acceptations be- 
 fides thefe, in which the w^ord Memory has been oc- 
 
OF THE HUMAN KflND. 353 
 
 cafionally employed ; but as its ambiguities are not of 
 Aich a nature as to iniflead us in our prefent inquiries, 
 I ihall not dwell any longer on the illuftration of dif- 
 tindions, which to the greater part of readers niighc 
 appear uninterefting and minute. One diftinclion 
 only, relative to this fubject, occurs to me, as defer- 
 ving particular attention. 
 
 The operations of Memory relate either to things 
 and their relations, or to events. In the former cafe, 
 thoughts which have been previoufly in the mind, 
 may recur to us, without fuggefting the idea of the 
 paft, or of any modification of time whatever ; as 
 when I repeat over a poem which I have got by heart 
 or when 1 think of the features of an abfent friend. 
 In this laft inftance, indeed, philofophers diftinguilh 
 the a£l of the mind by the name of Conception ; 
 but in ordinary difcourfe, and frequently even in 
 philofophical writing, it is conlidered as an exertion 
 of Memory. In thefe and fimilar cafes, it is obvi- 
 ous that the operations of this faculty do not necef- 
 farily involve the idea of the paft. 
 
 The cafe is different with refpecl to the memory 
 of events. When I think of thefe, I not only recal 
 to the mind the former (U:)iecls of its thoughts, but 
 I refer the event to a particular point of time ; fo 
 that of every fuch a<fl of memory, the idea of the 
 paft is a neceffary concomitant. 
 
 I have been led to take notice of this diuin(5lion, 
 in order to obviate an objection which fome of the 
 phenomena of Memory leem to prefent, againft a 
 dodlrine which I formerly ftated, when treating of 
 the powers of Conception and Imagination. 
 
 It is evident, that when 1 think of an event, in 
 which any object of fenfe was concerned, my recol- 
 ledlion of the event muft neceffarily involve an act 
 of Conception. Thus, when I think of a dramatic 
 reprefentation which 1 have recently feen, my recol- 
 ledion of what I faw, jjieceflarily involves a concep- 
 
356 ELEMENTS OF THE PHlLOaOPHY 
 
 tion of the different aclors by whom it was performt? 
 ed. But every acl of recolleclion which relates tq 
 events, is accoinpanied with a belief of their paft ex- 
 igence. How tiien are we to reconcile this conclur 
 fion with the doctrine formerly maintained concern- 
 ing Conception, according to which every exertion 
 of that power is accompanied with a belief, that its 
 objecl: exifts before us at the prefent moment ? 
 
 The only way that occurs to me of removing this. 
 diilicuky, is by fuppoling, that the remembrance of 
 a paft event, is not a limple ad of the mind : but 
 that the mind firft forms a conception of the event, 
 and then judges from circumftances, of the period of 
 time to which it is to be referred : a fuppofition 
 which is by no means a gratuitous one, invented to 
 anfwer a particular purpofe ; but which, as far as I 
 am able to judge, is agreeable to facl : for if we have 
 the power, as will not be difputed, of conceiving a 
 paft event without any reference to time, it follows, 
 that there is nothing in the ideas or notions which 
 memory prefents to us, which is neceffarily acco mpa- 
 nied with a belief of paft exiftence, in a way analo- 
 gous to that in which our perceptions are accompa- 
 nied with a belief of the prefent exiftence of tlieir 
 objects ; and therefore, tliat the reference of the e- 
 vent to the particular period at which it happened, 
 is a judgment founded on concr)mitant circumftan- 
 ces. So long as we are occupied with the concep- 
 tion of any particular objed: connected with the e- 
 vent, we believe the prefent exiftence of the objecl ; 
 but this belief, which in moft cafes, is only momen- 
 tary, is inftantly corrected by habiis of judging ac- 
 quired by experience ; and as foon as the mind is 
 difengaged from inch a belief, it is left at liberty to 
 refer the event to the period at which it actually 
 happened. Nor will the apparent inftantaneGulnels 
 of fuch judgments be confidered as an unfurmounta- 
 ble obierlion to the doctrine now advanced, bv 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 357 
 
 thofe who have reflected on the perception of dift- 
 ance obtained by fight, which, although it feems to 
 be as immediate as any perception of tcmch, has oeen 
 fhewn by philofophers to be the refult of a judgment 
 founded on experience and obfervation. The re- 
 ference we make of paft events to the particular 
 points of time at which they took place, will, I am 
 inclined to think, the more we confider the fubjeck, 
 be found the more ftrikingly analogous to the efti- 
 mates of di fiance we learn to form by the eye. 
 
 Although, however, I am, myfelf, fatisfied with 
 the conclulion to which the foregoing reafonings lead, 
 I am far from expecting that the cafe will be the fame 
 with all my readers. Some of their objections, 
 which I can eafily anticipate, might, I believe, be ob- 
 viated by a little farther difcuilion ; but as the quef- 
 tion is merely a matter of curiofity, and has no ne- 
 ceffary connection with the oblervations I am to 
 make in this Chapter, I (hall not profecute the fub- 
 jecl at prefent. The opinion, indeed, we furm con- 
 cerning it, has no reference to any of the dodlrines 
 maintained in this work, excepting to a particular 
 fpeculation concerning the belief accompanying con- 
 ception, which I ventured to ftate, in treating of 
 that fubje6l, and which, as it appears to be extreme- 
 ly doubtful to fome whofe opinions I reiped:, I pro- 
 pofed with a degree of diffidence fuitable to the dif- 
 faculty of fuch an enquiry. The remaining obferva-* 
 tions which I am to make on the power of memory, 
 whatever opinion may be formed ©f their impor- 
 tance, will furniih but little room for a diverlity of 
 judgment concerning their truth. 
 
 In confidering this part of our conftitution, one of 
 the mod obvious and ilriking queftions that occurs, 
 is, what the circumilances are which determine the 
 memory to retain fome things in preference to oth- 
 ers ? Among the fubjecls which fucceflively occupy 
 pur thoughts, by far the greater number vaniih^ 
 
58 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 without leaving a trace behind them ; while others 
 become, as it were, a part of ourfelves, and, by their 
 accumulations, lay a foundation for our perpetual 
 progrefs in knowledge. Without pretending to ex- 
 liauft thefubject, I (hall content myfelf at prefent with 
 a partial folution of this difficulty, by illuftrating the 
 dependence of memory upon two principles of our 
 nature, with which it is plainly very intimately con* 
 necled ; attention, and the affociation of ideas. 
 
 I endeavored in a former chapter to {hew, that 
 there is a certain ad of the mind, ^diftinguifhed, 
 both by philofophers and the vulgar, by the name of 
 attention,) without which even the olDJeds of our 
 perceptions make no impreilion on the memory. It 
 is alfo matter of common remark, that the perma- 
 nence of the impreffion which any thing leaves in 
 the memory, is proportioned to the degree of atten- 
 tion which was originally given to it. The obfer- 
 vation has been fo often repeated, and is fo manifeft- 
 ly true, that it is unneceffary to offer any illuftration 
 of it.* 
 
 I have only to obferve farther, with refped to at- 
 tention, confidered in the relation in which itftands 
 to memory, that although it be a voluntary ad, it 
 requires experience to have it always under com- 
 
 * It seems to b? owing to this dependence of memory on atten- 
 tion, that it is easier to get by heart a composition, after a 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 explained by him on the same 
 principle to whioh I have referred it. 
 
 " ^ufe expectantur et attentionem excitant, rnelius haerent qnam 
 "quie prtetervolant. Itaque si scriptum aliqiiod vicies perlegeris, 
 *' non tarn facile illud memoriter disces, quaru si illiid legas decies, 
 « tentando interim illud recitare, et ubi deficit memoria, inspiciend© 
 
 " librum." 
 
 Bacon, Nov, Org. lib. ii. aph. 26. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. S59 
 
 mand. In the cafe of objeds to which we have been 
 taught to attend at an early period of life, or which 
 are calculated to roufe the curiofity, or to affect any 
 of our paflions, the attention fixes itfelf upon them, 
 as it were fpontaneoully, and without any effcirt on 
 our part, of which we are confcious How perfect- 
 ly do we remember, and even retain, for a long courfe 
 of years, the faces and the hand- writings of our ac- 
 quaintances, although we never took any particular 
 pains to fix them in the memory ? On the other hand, 
 if an ©bjed does not intercll fome principle of our na- 
 ture, we may examine it again and again, with a wifh 
 to treafure 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 fee it. A perfon, for example, who has not 
 been accuftomed to attend particularly to horfes or 
 to cattle, may ftudy for a confiderable time the ap- 
 pearance of a horfe or of a bullock, without being 
 able a few days afterwards to pronounce on his 
 identity ; while a horfe-dealer or a grazier recolleds 
 many hundreds of that clafs of animals with which 
 he is converfant, as perfectly as he does the faces of 
 his acquaintances. Jn order to account for this, I 
 would remark, that although attention be a volun- 
 tary ad, and although we are always able, when we 
 choofe, to make a momentary exertion of it ; yet, 
 unlefs the object^p which it is derected be really in- 
 terefting, in fome degree, to the curiofity, the train 
 of our ideas goes on, and we immediately forget our 
 purpofe. When we are employed, theretorc, in 
 Itudying fuch an objedt, it is not an exclulive and 
 fteady attention that we give to it, but we are lofing 
 fight of it, and recurring to it every initant ; and 
 the painful efforts of which we are confcious, are 
 not (as we are apt to fuppofe them to be) eflbrts of 
 uncommon attention, but unfuccefsful attempts to 
 keep the mind fleady to its object, and to exclude 
 
S60 ELEMENTS OF THE PHlLb^OPHf 
 
 the extraneous ideas, which are from time to tim6 
 foliciting its notice. 
 
 If theie obfervations be well founded, they afford 
 an explanation of a facl which has been often re- 
 marked, that objects are eafily renaembered which 
 afFecl any of the paflions.* The pallion allifts the 
 memory, not in confequence of any immediate con- 
 nection between them, but as it prefents, during thd 
 time it continues, a fteady and exclufive object to the 
 attention. ^ 
 
 The connediion between memory and the afibcia- 
 tion of ideas, is fo ftriking, that it has been fuppofed 
 by fome, that the whole of its phenomena might be 
 refolved into this principle. But this is evidently 
 not the cafe. The afibciation of ideas connects our 
 various thoughts with each other, fo as to prefent 
 them to the mind in a certain order ; but it prefup- 
 pofes the exiitence of thefe thoughts in the mind ; 
 or, in other words, it prefuppofes a faculty of retain- 
 ing the knowledge which we acquire. It involves 
 alio a power of recognizing, as former objects of at- 
 tention, the thoughts that from time to time occur 
 to us ; a power which is not implied in that law of 
 our nature vv^hich is called the affociation of ideas; 
 It is pofiible, furely, that our thoughts might have 
 fucceeded each other, according to the fame laws as 
 at prefent, without fuggefling to us at all the idea of 
 the paft ; and, in fad:, this i'uppoi^on is realifed to 
 a certain degree in the cafe of fome old men, who 
 retain pretty exactly the information which they re- 
 ceive, but are fometimes unable to recollect in what 
 manner the particulars which they find connected 
 
 * " Si quas res in vita videmus parvas, usi'atas, quotidiai.as, ea2 
 " meminisse non solemus ; propterca quod nulla nisi nova aut ad- 
 *•• mirabiii re commovetur animus. At si quid videmus aut au(^ 
 ** mus egregie turpe, aut honestum, inusitatum, magnum, incr 
 •' bile, ridiculum, id diu meiiiinisse consuevimus." 
 
 Jd Herenn. lib, S 
 
 ad^ 
 
 1 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. SG\ 
 
 together in their thoughts, at firft came into the 
 mind ; whether they occurred to them in a dream, 
 or were communicated to them in converfation. 
 
 On the other hand, it is evedent, that without the 
 affociating principle, the powers of retaining our 
 thoughts, and of recognizing them when they ocur 
 to us, would have been of Uttle ufe ; for the mofb 
 important articles of our knowledge might have re- 
 mained latent in the mind, even when thcfe occa- 
 fions prefented themfelves to which they are imme- 
 diately applicable. In confequence of this law of 
 our nature, not only are all our various ideas made 
 to pafs, from time to time, in review before us, and 
 to offer themfelves to our choice as fubje6ts of medi- 
 tation, but when an occafion occurs which cads for 
 the aid of our paft experience, the occafion itfelf re- 
 cals to us all the information upon the fubjedl which 
 that experiehce has accumulated. 
 
 The foregoing obfervations comprehend an analy- 
 fis of memory fufficiently accurate for my prefent 
 purpofe : fome other remarks, tending to illuftrate 
 the fame fubjed more completely, will occur in the 
 remaining fedions of this chapter. 
 
 It is hardly necelTary for me to add, that when we 
 have proceeded fo far in our inquiries concc rning 
 Memory, as to obtain an analyfis of that power, and 
 to afcertain the relation in which it (lands to the 
 other principles of our conftitution, we have advan- 
 ced as far towards an explanation of it as the nature 
 of the fubject permits. The various theories which 
 have attempted to account for it by traces or im- 
 preflions in the fenforium, are obvioufly too unphi- 
 lofophical to deferve a particular refutation.* Such, , 
 indeed, is the poverty of language, that we cannot 
 fpealv on the fubjedl without employing expreflions 
 
 * See Note [S.] 
 
 Xx 
 
362 ELEIvlENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 which fugged one theory or another ; but it is of 
 importance for us always to recoiled, that thefe ex- 
 preffions are entirely figurative, and afford no ex- 
 planation of the phenomena to which they refer. 
 It is partly with a view to remind my readers of this 
 confideration, that, finding it impoflibie to lay 
 afide completely metaphorical or analogical words, I 
 have ftudied to avoid fuch an uniformity in the em- 
 ployment of them, as might indicate a preference to 
 one theory rather than another ; and by doing fo, 
 have perhaps fometimes been led to vary the meta- 
 phor oftener and more fuddenly, than would be 
 proper in a compofition which aimed at any degree 
 of elegance. This caution in the ufe of the common 
 language concerning memory, it feemed to me the 
 more neceffary to attend to, that the general difpo- 
 lition which every perfon feels at the commencement 
 of his philofophical purfuits, to explain fhe phenom- 
 ena of thought by the laws of matter, is, in the cafe 
 of this particular faculty, encouraged by a variety of 
 peculiar circumftances. The analogy between com- 
 mitting a thing to memory that we wifli to remem- 
 ber, and engraving on a tablet a facl that we wafli to 
 record, is fo tlr iking as to prefent itfelf even to the 
 vulgar ; nor is it perhaps lefs natural to indulge the 
 fancy in confidering memory as a fort of repofitory, 
 in which we arrange and preferve for future ufe the 
 materials of our information. The immediate de- 
 pendence, too, of this faculty on the ftate of the 
 body, which is more remarkable than that of any 
 other faculty whatever, (as appears from the effeds 
 produced on it by old age, difeafe, and intoxication,) 
 is apt to ftrike thofe who have not been much con- 
 versant with thefe inquiries, as beftuwing fbme piaii- 
 fibility on the theory which attempts to explain its 
 phenomena on mechanical principles. 
 
 I cannot help taking this opportunity of expreff- 
 ing a wifii, that medical writers would be at 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 363 
 
 more pains than they have been at hitherto, to 
 aicertain the various effects which are produced 
 on the memory by difeafe and old age. Thefe 
 effects are widely diverfified in different cafes. In 
 fome it would feem that the memory is impaired, in 
 confequence of a diminution of the power of atten- 
 tion ; in others, that the power of recollection is dis- 
 turbed, in confequence of a derangement of that part 
 of the conftitution on which the affociation of ideas 
 depends. The decay of memory, which is the com- 
 mon effect of age,feems to arife from the former of 
 thefe caufes. It is probable, that, as we advance in 
 years, the capacity of attention is weakened by fome 
 phylical change in the conftitution ; but it is alfo 
 reafonable to think, that it lofes its vigor partly from 
 the effect which the decay of our fenfibility, and 
 the extinction of our pafllons, have, in diminifhing 
 the intereft which we feel in the common occurren- 
 ces of life. That no derangement takes place, in 
 ordinary cafes, in thai part of the conftitution on 
 which the affociation of ideas depenc's, appears from 
 the diftind and circumftantial recollection which old 
 men retain of the tranfactions of their youth.* In 
 fome difeafes, this part of the conftitution is evident- 
 ly affedted. A ftroke of the palfy has been known^ 
 (while it did not deftroy the power of fpeech,) to 
 render the patient incapable of recollecting the names 
 
 * Swift somewhere expresses his surprise, that old men should 
 lemeinber their anecdotes so distinctly, and should, notwithstand- 
 ing, have so little memory as to tell the ssme story twice in the 
 course of the same conversation ; and u similar remark is made by 
 Montaigne, in one of his Essays : " Surtout les Vieillards sont 
 *' dangereux, ii qui la souvenance des choses pass^'es demeure, et 
 ** ont perdu la souvenance de Icurs redites." 
 
 Liv. i. ehap. ix. (Des Menteurs.) 
 
 The fact seems to be, that all their old Ideas remain in the mind, 
 connected as formerly by the difierent associating principles ; but 
 that the power of attention to nev/ ideas ?indnew occurrences is 
 impaired. 
 
364 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of the moll familiar objects. What is ftill more re- 
 markable, the name of an objed has been known to 
 fuggeft the idea of4t as formeriy, although the fight 
 of the object ceafed to fuggeft the name. 
 
 In fo far as this decay of memory which old age 
 brings along with it, is a neceffary confequence of a 
 phyfical changein the conftitution, or a neceffary con- 
 fequence of a diminution of fenfibility, it is the part 
 of a wife man to fubmit cheerfully to the lot of his 
 nature. But it is not unreafonable to think, that 
 fomething may be done by our own efforts, to ob- 
 viate the inconveniences which commonly refult 
 from it. If individuals, who, in the early part of 
 life, have weak memories, are fometimes able to 
 remedy this defed, by a greater attention to arrange- 
 ment in their tranfa<^ions, and to clallification among 
 their ideas, than is neceffary to the bulk of mankind, 
 might it not be poflible, in the fame way, to ward 
 off, at leaft to a certain degree, the encroachnients 
 which time makes on this faculty ? The few old men 
 who continue in the active fcenes of life to the laft 
 moment, it has been often remarked, complain, in 
 general, much lefs of a want of recolledlion, than 
 their cotemporaries. This is undoubtedly owing 
 partly to the effed which the purfuits of bufmeis 
 muft neceffarily have, in keeping alive the power of 
 attention. But it is probably owing alfo to new 
 Iiabits of arrangement, which the mind gradually 
 and infenfibly forms, from the experience of its 
 growing infirmities. The apparent revival of mem- 
 ory in old men, after a temporary decline, (which is 
 a cafe that happens not unfrequently,) feems to favor 
 this fuppofition. 
 
 One old man, I have, myfelf, had the good for- 
 tune to know, whcs after a long, an active, and an 
 honorable life, having begun to feel fome of the ufu- 
 al effed:s of advanced years, has been able to find re- 
 fources in his own fagacity, againft moft of the in- 
 
Of TH£ HUMAN MIND. 365 
 
 conveniences with which they are commonly atten- 
 ded ; and who, by watching his gradual decline with 
 the cool eye of an indifferent obferver, and employ- 
 ing his ingenuity to retard its progrefs, has convert- 
 ed even the infirmities of age into a fouroe of philo- 
 Ibphical amufement. 
 
 SECTION II. 
 Of the Varieties of Memory in different Individuals, 
 
 IT is generally fuppofed, that, of all our faculties. 
 Memory is that which nature has bellowed in the 
 moft unequal degrees on different individuals ; and 
 it is far from being impodible that this opinion may 
 be well founded. If, however, we confider, that 
 there is fcarcely any man who has not memory fuf- 
 licient to learn the ufe of language, and to learn to 
 recognize, at the iirft glance, the appearances of an 
 infinite number of familiar objeds ; befides acquir- 
 ing fuch an acquaintance wuth the laws of nature, 
 and the ordinary courfe of human affairs, as is ne- 
 ceffary for dire<Sing his conduct in life ; we ftiall be 
 fatisfied that the original difparities among men, in 
 this refpecl, are by no means fo immenfe as they 
 i'eem to be at firfl view ; and that much is to be as- 
 cribed to different habits of attention, and to a dif- 
 ference of feledion among the various objeds and 
 events prefented to their curiofity. 
 
 As the great purpofe to which this faculty is fub- 
 fervient, is to enable us to collect, and to retain, for 
 the future regulation of our conduct, the refults of 
 our part experience ; it is evident that the de- 
 gree of perfection which it attains in the cafe 
 of difierent perfons, mud vary ; firfl, with the 
 fi^cility of making the original acquifition ; fee- 
 
366 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ondly, vv'ith the permaiaence of the acquifition ; 
 and thirdly, with the quicknefs or readinefs with 
 which the individual is able, on particular oc- 
 caiions, to apply it to ufe. The qualities, therefore, 
 of a good memory are, in the firll place, to be fiif- 
 ceptible ; fecondly, to be retentive ; and thirdly, to 
 be ready. 
 
 It is but rarely that thefe three qualities are uni- 
 ted in the lame perfon. We often, indeed, meet 
 with a memory which is at once fufceptible and 
 ready ; bat I doubt much, if fuch memories be com- 
 monly very retentive : for, fufceptibility and readi- 
 nefs are both connected with a facility of aflbciating 
 ideas, according to their more obviom relations ; 
 whereas retentivenefs, or tenacioufnefs of memory, 
 depends principally on what is feldom united with 
 this facility, a dilpofition to fyftem and to philofoph- 
 ical arrangement. Thefe obfervations it will be ne- 
 celTary to illuiirate more particularly. 
 
 I have already remarked, in treating of a different 
 fubject, that the bulk of mankind, being but little 
 accuflomed to refled and to generalize, affociate their 
 ideas chiefly according to their more obvious rela- 
 tions ; thofe, for example, of refemblance and of a- 
 nalogy ; and above all, according to the cafual rela- 
 tions ariling from contiguity in time and place : 
 whereas, in the mind of a philofopher, ideas are 
 conmonly aflbciated according to thofe relations 
 wlrch are brought to Hght in confequencc of par- 
 ticular efforts of attention ; fuch as the relations of 
 Caufe and Efftd, or of Premifes and Conclufion. 
 This diffl'rence in the modes of alTociatidn of thefe 
 two claires of men, is the foundation of fome very 
 llriking diverfities between them in refped: of in- 
 telieclual character. 
 
 In the firft place, in confequence of the nature of 
 the relations which connedl ideas together in the 
 mind of the philofopher, it mull neceffarily happen. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, S6t 
 
 tliat when he has occafion to apply to ufe his ac- 
 quired knowledge, time and refledlion will be re- 
 quifite to enable him to recoiled it. In the cafe of 
 thofe', on the other hand, who have not been accuf* 
 tomed to fcientlfic purfuits ; as their ideas are con- 
 nected together according to the moft obvious rela- 
 tions ; when any one idea of a clafs is prefented to 
 the mind, it is immediately followed by the others, 
 which fucceed each other fpontaneoully according 
 to the laws of alTociation. In managing, therefore, 
 the little details of fome fubaltern employment, in 
 which all that is acquired, is a knowledge of forms, 
 and a difpolition to obferve them, the want of a fyf- 
 tematical genius is an important advantage ; becaufe 
 this \V2.ut renders the mind peculiarly lufceptible of 
 habits, and allows the train of its ideas to accommo- 
 date itfelf perfe(5lly to the daily and hourly occur- 
 rences of its lituation. But if, in this refpecl, men 
 of no general principles have an advantage over the 
 philofopher, they fall greatly below him in another 
 point of view ; inafmuch as all the information 
 which they poiTels, mufl neceflarily be limited by 
 their own proper experience ; whereas the philofo- 
 pher, who is accuftomed to refer every thing to gen- 
 eral principles, is not only enabled, by means of thefe, 
 to arrange the fads which experience has taught 
 him, but by reafoning from his principles fynthetic- 
 ally, has it often in his power to determine fads ts 
 priori, which he has no opportunity of afcertaining 
 by obfervation. 
 
 It follows farther, from the foregoing principles, 
 that the intellectual defects of the philofopher, are 
 of a much more corrigible nature, than thofe of the 
 mere man of detail. If the former is thrown by ac- 
 cident into a fcene of bufmefs, more time will per- 
 haps be neceflfary to qualify him for it, than would 
 be requifite for the generality of mankind ; but time 
 and experience will infallibly, fooner or later, ht- 
 
368 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 miliarife his mind completely with his fituation. A 
 capacity for lyftem and for philofophical arrange- 
 ment, unlefs it has been carefully cultivated in early 
 life, is an acquilition which can fcarcely ever be 
 made afterwards ; and, therefore, the defects which 
 I already mentioned, as conne(5led with early and 
 conftant habits of bufinefs, adopted from imitation, 
 and undirected by theory ; may, when once thefe 
 habits are confirmed, be pronounced to be incura- 
 ble. 
 
 I am alfo inclined to believe, both from a theoret- 
 ical view of the fubjecl, and from my own obferva- 
 trons as far as they have reached, that if we wiih to 
 fix the particulars of our knowledge very perma- 
 nently in the memory, the moft efFedual way of do» 
 ing it, is to refer them to general principles. Ideas 
 which are connected together merely by cafual rela- 
 tions, prefent themfelves with readinefs to the mind, 
 fo long as we are forced by the habits of our fitua- 
 tion to apply them daily to ufe ; but when a change 
 of circumllances leads us to vary the objeds of our 
 attention, we find our old ideas gradually to efcape 
 from the recollection : and if it (hould happen that 
 they efcape from it altogether, the only method of 
 recovering them, is by renewing thofe ftudies by 
 which they were at firlt acquired. The cafe is very 
 different with a man whofe ideas, prefented to him 
 at firtc by accident, have been afterwards philofoph- 
 ically arranged and referred to general principles. 
 When he wifhes to recollect them, fome time and 
 reflection will, frequently, be neceffary to enable 
 him to do fo ; but the information which he has 
 once completely acquired, continues, in general, to 
 Jbe an acquifition for life ; or if, accidentally, any ar- 
 ticle of it (hould be loft^ it may often be recovered 
 by 1 procefs of reafoning. 
 
 Something very fimilar to this happens in the 
 ftudy of languages. A perfon who acquires a for- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 360 
 
 eign language merely by the ear, and without any 
 knowledge of its principles, commonly fpeaks 
 it, while he remains in the country where it 
 is fpoken, with more readinefs and fluency, than 
 one who has ftudied it grammatically ; but in the 
 courle of a few years abfence, he finds himfelf aimofi: 
 as ignorant of it as before he acquired it. A lan- 
 guage of which we once underftand the principles 
 thoroughly, it is hardly poflible to lofe by difufe. 
 
 A philofophical arrangement of our ides, is atten- 
 ded with another very important advantage. In a 
 mind where the prevailing principles of afTociaticn 
 are founded on cafual relations among the various 
 objects of its knowledge, the thoughts muft nccefla- 
 rily fucceed each other in a very irregular and dif- 
 orderly manner ; and the occalions on which they 
 prefent themfelves, will be determined merely by 
 accident. They will often occur, when they can- 
 not be employed to any purpofe ; and will remain 
 concealed from our view, when the recolledion of 
 them might, be ufeful. They cannot therefore be 
 conlidered as under our own proper command. 
 But in the cafe of a philofopher, how flow foever 
 he may be in the recollection of his ideas, he knows 
 always where he is to fearch for them, fo as to bring 
 them all to bear on their proper objecl. When he 
 wiflies to avail himfelf of his paft experience, or of 
 his former conclufions, the occafion, itfelf, fummons 
 up every thought in his mind which the occafion re- 
 quires. Or if he is called upon to exert his powers 
 of invention, and of difcovery, the materials of both 
 are always at hand, and are preliented to his view 
 with fucli a degree of connection and arrangem/ent, 
 as may enable him to trace, with eafe, their varioXis 
 relations. How much invention depends upon a pa- 
 tient and attentive examination of our ideas, in order 
 to difcover the lefs obvious relations which fubfifl 
 
 Y Y 
 
STO ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 among them, I had occafion to fliovv, at fome lengthy 
 in a termer Chapter. 
 
 The remarks which have been now made, are fuf- 
 ficient to illuftrate the advantages which the philof- 
 opher derives in the purfuits of fcience, from that 
 fort of fyftematical memory which his habits of ar- 
 rangement give him. It may however be doubted, 
 whether fuch habits be equally favorable to a talent 
 for agreeable converfation ; at leail, for that lively, 
 varied, and unftudied converfation, which forms the 
 principal charm of a promifcuous fociety. The con- 
 verfation which pleafes generally, muft unite the 
 recommendations of quicknefs, of eafe, and of varie- 
 ty : and in all thefe three refpecls, that of the phi- 
 lofopher is apt to be deficient. It is deficient in 
 quicknefs, becaufe his ideas are connected by rela- 
 tions which occur only to an attentive and collected 
 mind. It is deficient in eafe, becaufe thefe relations 
 are not the cafual and obvious ones, by which ideas 
 are afibciated in ordinary memories ; but the flow 
 difcoveries of patient, and often painful, exertion. 
 As the ideas, too, which he affociates together, are 
 commonly of the fame clafs, or at lead are referred 
 to the fame general principles, he is in danger of be- 
 coming tedious, by indulging himfelf in long and 
 fyllematical difcourfes ; while another, poffeikd of 
 the mofl inferior accomplifiiments, by laying his 
 mind completely open to impreflions from without, 
 and by accomm.odating continually the courfe of his 
 own ideas, not only to the ideas which are ilarted 
 by his companions, but to every trifling and unex- 
 pected accident that may occur to give them a new 
 direction, is the life and foul of every fociety into 
 which he enters. Even the anecdotes which the 
 philofopher has collecled, however agreeable they 
 may be in themfeives, are feldom introduced by him 
 into converfation, with that unlludied but happy 
 propriety, which we admire in men of the world,. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 571 
 
 whofe fadls are not referred to general principles, 
 but are fuggefted to their recolledion by the famil- 
 iar topics and occurrences of ordinary life. Nor is 
 it the imputation of tedioufnefs merely, to which 
 the fyftematical thinker muft fubmit from common 
 obfervers. It is but rarely pofiible to explain com- 
 pletely, in a promifcuous fociety, all the various 
 parts of the moft iimple theory ; and as nothing ap- 
 pears "weaker or more abfurd than a theory which is 
 partially Hated, it frequently happens, that men of 
 ingenuity, by attempting it, fink, in the vulgar ap- 
 prehenfion, below the level of ordinary underftand- 
 ings. " Theoriarum vires" (lays Lord Bacon) " in 
 " apta et fe mutuo fuftinente, partium harmonia et 
 " quadam in orbem demonftratione confiftunt, ide- 
 " oque per partes traditae infirmas funt." 
 
 Before leaving the fubjed of Cafual Memory, it 
 may not be improper to add, that how much foever 
 it may difqualify for fyftematical fpeculation, there 
 is a fpecies of loofe and rambling compofition, to 
 which it is peculiarly favorable. With fuch perfor- 
 mances, it is often pleafant to unbend the mind in 
 folitude, when we are more in the humor for con- 
 verfation, than for connected thinking. Montaigne 
 is unqueftionably at the head of this clafs of authors. 
 " What, indeed, are his ElTays," (to adopt his own 
 account of them,) " but grotefque pieces of patch- 
 " work, put together without any certain figure ; or 
 '' any order, connection, or proportion, but what is 
 " accidental ?"* 
 
 It is, however, curious, that in confequence of the 
 predominance in his mind of this fpecies of Memory 
 above every other, he is forced to acknowledge his 
 total want of that command over his ideas, which 
 can only be founded on habits of fyilcmatical ar- 
 rangement. As the paflage is extremely charactcr- 
 iftical of the author, and affords a ffriking confirma- 
 * Liv. i. chao. 27, 
 
^^2 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tlon of fome of the preceding obfervations, I fhali 
 give it in his own vvords. " Je ne me tiens pas bien 
 ** en nia poireilion et difpofition : le hazard y a plus 
 ** de droit que nnoy : Toccafion, la compagnie, le 
 *' branle meme de ma voix tire plus de mon eiprit, 
 " que je n'y trouve lors que je forde et employe a 
 " part moy. Ceci nVadvient auHi, que je ne me 
 " trouve pafs ou je me cherche ; et me trouve plus 
 " par rencontre, que par Tinquifition de mon juge- 
 ^« ment."t 
 
 The differences which I have now pointed out be- 
 tween philofophical and cafual Memory, conftitute 
 the moft remarkable of all the varieties which the 
 minds of different individuals, confidered in refpe6t 
 of this faculty, prefent to our obfervation. But 
 there are other varieties, of a lefs ftriking nature, the 
 conlideration of which may alfo fuggell fome ufefui 
 reflexions. 
 
 It was before remarked, that our ideas are fre- 
 quently aflociated, in confequence of the affociations 
 which take place among their arbitrary figns. In- 
 dred, in the cafe of all our general fpeculaiions, it is 
 difficult to fee in what other way our thoughts can 
 be aflociated ; for, I before endeavored to Ihew, 
 that without the ufe of figns of one kind or another, 
 it would be impofiible for us to make claffes or gen- 
 era, objects of our attention. 
 
 Ail the figns by w^hich our thoughts are expreffed, 
 are addrelTed either to the eye or to the ear ; and 
 the impreflions made on thefe organs, at the time 
 when we firfl receive an idea, contribute to give us 
 a firmer hold of it. Vifible objecl:s (as I obferved in 
 the Cfiapter on Conception) ^re remembered m<ore 
 eafily than thofe of any of our other fenfes ; and 
 hence it is, that the bulk of mankind are more aid- 
 ed in their recollection by the impreflions made on 
 the eye, than by thofe made on the ear. Every 
 * Liv. i. chap. 10. (Du parler prompt ou tardif.) 
 
OF THE HUMAN MLND. 37$ 
 
 perfoii mud have remarked^ in lludying the elements 
 of geometry, how much his recolieclion of the theo- 
 rems was aided, by the diagrams which are connect- 
 ed with them : and I have little doubt, that the dif- 
 ficulty which '.tudents commonly fiocl to remember 
 the propofitions of the fifth book of Euclid, arifes 
 chiefly from this, that the magnitudes to which they 
 relate, are reprefented bv tlraight lines, which do not 
 make lb flrong an impreflion on the memory, as the 
 figures which illuftrate the propofitions in the other 
 five books. 
 
 This advantage, which the objects of fight natural- 
 ly have over thofe of hearing, in the diftindnefs and 
 the permanence of the impreifions which they make 
 on the memory, continues, and even increafes, 
 through Ufe, in the cafe of the bulk of mankind ; 
 becaufe their minds, being but little addicted to 
 general and abftra6t difquifition,are habitually occu- 
 pied, either with the immediate perception of fuch 
 objects, or with fpeculations in which the conception 
 of them is more or lets involved ; which fpeculations, 
 fo far as they relate to individual things and individ- 
 ual events, may be carried on with little or no afiift- 
 ance from language. 
 
 The cafe is different with the philofopher, whofe 
 habits of abftraction and generalifation lay him con- 
 tinually under a necefiity of employing words as an 
 inftrument of thought. Such habits co-operating 
 with that inattention, which he is apt to contract to 
 things external, muft have an obvious tendency to 
 weaken the original powers of recollection and con- 
 ception with refpedt to vifiblc obje(5ts ; and, at the 
 fame time, to ftrengthen the power of retnining pro- 
 pofitions and reafonings exprefTed in language. The 
 common fyftem of education, too, by excrcifing the 
 memory fo much in the acquifition of grammar rules, 
 and of pafTages from the antient authors, contributes 
 gready, in the cafe of men of letters, to cultivate a 
 capacity for retaining words. 
 
374 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 It is furprifing, of what a degree of culture, our 
 power of retaining a fucceflion, even of infignificant 
 founds, is fufceptible. Inftances foiuetimes occur, of 
 men who are eaiily able to commit to memory, a 
 long poem, compofed in a language of which they 
 are wholly ignorant ; and I have, myfelf, known 
 more than one inftance, of an individual, who afrer 
 having forgotten completely the claffical ftudies of 
 his childhood, was yet able to repeat, with fluency, 
 long pafliiges from Homer and Virgil, without an- 
 nexing an idea to the words that he uttered. 
 
 This fufceptibility of memory with refpecl to 
 words, 13 pofTelTed by all men in a very remarkable 
 degree in their early years, and is, indeed, necefl'ary 
 to enable them to acquire the ufe of language ; but 
 unlefs it be carefully cultivated afterwards by con- 
 llant exercife, it gradually decays as we advance to 
 maturity. The plan of education which is followed 
 in this country, however imperfed in many respefts, 
 falls in happily with this arrangement of nature, and 
 ftores the mind richly, even in infancy, with intel- 
 ledual treafures, which are to remain with it through 
 life. The rules of grammar, which comprehend 
 fyftems, more or lefs perfect, of the principles of the 
 dead languages, take a permanent hold of the mem- 
 ory, when the underftanding is yet unable to com- 
 prehend their import : and the claffical remains of 
 antiquity, which, at the time we acquire them do 
 little more than furnifli a gratification to the ear, 
 fupply us with inexhauftible fources of the moft re- 
 fined enjoyment ; and, as our various powers grad- 
 ually unfold themfelves, are poured forth, without 
 eff'ort, from the memory, to delight the imagination, 
 and to improve the heart. It cannot be doubted, 
 that a great variety of other articles of ufeful knowl- 
 edge, particularly with refpect to geographical and 
 chronological details, might be communicated with 
 advantage to children, in the form of memorial lines* 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 375 
 
 It IS only in childhood, that fuch details can be learn- 
 ed with facility ; and if they were once acquired, 
 and rendered perfeflly familiar to the mind, our ri- 
 per years would be fpared much of that painful and 
 uninterefting labor, which is perpetually diftracting 
 our intelle<5lual powers, from thofe more important 
 exertions, for which, in their mature Hate, they feem 
 to be deftined. • 
 
 This tendency of literary habits in general, and 
 more particularly of phylofophical purfuits, to exer- 
 cife the thoughts about words, can fcarcely fail to 
 have fome efFedt in weakening the powers of recol- 
 lection and conception with refpeci to fenlible ob- 
 jects ; and, in fad, I believe it will be found, that 
 whatever advantage the philofopher may polTefs over 
 men of little education, in ftating general propofi- 
 tions and general reafonings, he is commonly infe- 
 rior to them in point of minutenefs and accuracy, 
 when he attempts to defcribe any object which, 
 he has feen, or any event which he has witnelT- 
 ed ; fuppoiing the curiofity of both, in fuch cafes, 
 to be interefted in an equal degree. I acknowledge, 
 indeed, that the undivided attention, which men 
 unaccuftomed to reflection are able to give to the 
 objeds of their perceptions, is, in part, the caufe of 
 the livelinefs and correctnefs of their conceptions. 
 
 With this diverfity in the intellectual habits of 
 cultivated and of uncultivated minds, there is anoth- 
 er variety of memory which feems to have fome 
 connection. In recognizing vifible objects, the mem- 
 ory of one man proceeds on the general appearance, 
 that of another attaches itfelf to fome minute and 
 diftinguifhing marks. A peafant knows the various 
 kinds of trees from their general habits ; a botanift, 
 from thofe characterillical circumftances on which 
 his clalTification proceeds. The laft kind of memo- 
 ry is, I think, moft common among literary men, 
 and arifes from their habit of recollecting by means 
 
376 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 of words. It is evidently niuch eafier to exprefs by 
 a defcription, a number of botanical marks, than the 
 general habit of a tree ; and the fane remark is ap- 
 plicable to other cales of a iimilar nature. But to 
 whatever caufe we afcribe 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 correclnefs, an 
 immenfe number of technical ditcriminations. 
 
 Each of thefe kinds of memory, has its peculiar 
 advantages and inconveniencies, which the dread of 
 bein^ tedious induces me to leave to the invefliffa- 
 tion of my readers. 
 
 SECTION III. 
 
 Of the improvemejit of Memory, — Analyfis of the Princi- 
 pies on which the Culture of Memory depends, 
 
 THE improvement of which the mind is fufcep- 
 tible by culture, is more remarkable, perhaps, in tlie 
 cafe of Memory, than in that of any other of our fa- 
 culties. The fact has been often taken notice of in 
 general terms ; but I am doubtful if the particular 
 mode in which culture operates on this part of our 
 conllitution, has been yet examined by philofophefs 
 with the attention which it deferves. 
 
 Of one fort of culture, indeed, of which Memory 
 is fufceptible in a very ftriking degree, no explana- 
 tion can be given ; I mean the improvement which 
 the original faculty acquires by mere exercife ; or in 
 other words, the tendency which practice has to in- 
 creafe our natural facility of affociation. This efk:6l 
 of pradice upon the memory, ieems to be an ultin ate 
 law of our nature, or rather, to be a particular in- 
 ftarice of that general law, that all our powers, both 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. S77 
 
 of body and mind, may be ftrengthened, by apply- 
 ing them to their proper purpofes. 
 
 Befides, however, the improvement which Mem- 
 ory admits of, in confequence of the effects of exer- 
 cife on the original faculty, it may be greatly aided 
 in its operations, by thofe expedients which reafon 
 and experience fuggeft for employing it to the heft 
 advantage. Thele expedients furnifh a curious fub- 
 jeft of philofophical examination : perhaps, too, the 
 inquiry may not be altogether without ufe ; for, al- 
 though our principal refources for ailifting the mem- 
 ory be fuggefted by nature, yet it is reafonable to 
 think, that in this, as in fimilar cafes, by following 
 out fyftematically the hints which (he fuggefts to us, 
 a farther preparation may be made for our intellect- 
 ual improvement. 
 
 Every perfon mufl have remarked, in entering 
 upon any new fpecies of ftudy, the difficulty of treaf- 
 uring up in the memory its elementary principles ; 
 and the growing facility which he acquires in this ref- 
 pecl, as his knowledge becomes more exteniive. By 
 analifing the different caufes which concur in produ- 
 cing this facility, we may, perhaps, be led to fome 
 concluiions which may admit of a praClical applica- 
 tion. 
 
 1 . In every fcience, the ideas about which it is 
 peculiarly converfant, are connected together by 
 fome particular affociating principle ; in one fcience, 
 for example, by affociations founded on the relation 
 of caufe and effe6l ; in another, by affociations foun- 
 ded on the neceffary relations of mathematical 
 truths ; in a third, on affociations founded on con- 
 tiguity in place or time. Hence one caufe of the 
 gradual improvement of memory with refpecl to the 
 familiar objects of our knowledge ; for whatever be 
 the prevailing affociating principle among the ideas 
 about which we are habitually occupied, it muff ne- 
 
 Zz 
 
378 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 cefTarily acquire additional llrcngth from our favor- 
 ite ftudy. 
 
 2, In proportion as a fcience becomes more fa- 
 miliar to us, we acquire a greater command of at- 
 tention with refpect to the objects about which it is 
 converfant ; for the information which we already 
 pofiefs, gives us an intereft in every new truth, and 
 every new fa6l which have any relation to it. In 
 moft cafes, our habits of inattention may be traced 
 to a want of curioiity ; and therefore fuch habits are 
 to be correded, not by endeavoring to force the at- 
 tentioii in particular inftances, but by gradually 
 learning to place the ideas which we wifh to remem- 
 ber, in an interefting point of view. 
 
 S. When we firft enter on any new literary pur- 
 fuit, we are unable to make a proper difcrimination 
 in point of utihty and importance, among the ideas 
 which are prefented to us ; and b}'^ attempting to 
 grafp at every thing, we fail in making thofe mode- 
 rate acquifitions which are fuited to the limited pow- 
 ers of the human mind. As our information ex- 
 tends, our feleclion becomes more judicious and 
 more confined ; and our knowledge of ufeful and 
 conneded truths advances rapidly, from our ceafing 
 to diftract the attention with fuch as are detached 
 and infignificant, 
 
 4. Every object of our knowledge is related to a 
 variety of others ; and may be prefented to the 
 thoughts, fometimes by one principle of alTociation, 
 and fometimes by another. In proportion, therefore, 
 to the multiplication of mutual relations among our 
 ideas, (which is the natural refult of growing infor- 
 mation, and in particular, of habits of phylolophical 
 ftudy,) the greater will be the number of occalions 
 on which they will recur to the recollection, and the 
 firmer will be the root which each idea, in particu- 
 lar, will take in the memory. 
 
 It followSptoo, from this obfervation, that the h- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 379 
 
 cility of retaining a new facl, or a new idea, will de- 
 pend on the number of relations which it bears to 
 the former objeds of our knowledge ; and, on the 
 other hand, that every fuch acquifition, fo far from 
 loading the memory, gives us a firmer hold of all 
 that part of our previous im formation, with which 
 it is in any degree connected. 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be improper to take this op- 
 portunity of obferving, although the remark be not 
 immediately connected with- our prefent fubjed:, that 
 the acceflion made to the flock of our knowledge, by 
 the new fads and ideas which we acquire, is not to be 
 ellimated merely by the number ot thefe fads and 
 ideas confidered individually *, but by the number of 
 relations which they bear to one another, and to all 
 the different particulars which were previoufly in the 
 mind ; for, " new know^ledge," (as Mr. Maclauriii 
 has w^ell remarked,*) " does not confifl fo much in 
 *' in our having accefs to a new objed, as in com- 
 " paring it with others already known, obferving its 
 " relations to them, or difcerning what it has in 
 " common wuth them, and wherein their difparity 
 " confifls : and, therefore, our knowledge is vaflly 
 " greater than thefum of what all its objeds fepa- 
 " rately could afford ; and when a new objed comes 
 " within our reach, the addition to our knowledge 
 " is the greater, the more we already know ; fo that 
 " it increafes, not as the new objeds increafe, but in 
 " a much higher proportion." 
 
 5. In the lafl place, the natural powers of Menv 
 ory are, in the cafe of the philofopher, greatly aided 
 by his peculiar habits of claflification and arrange- 
 ment. As this is by far the mofl important im- 
 provement of which Memory is fufceptible, I fhall 
 ronfider it more particular than any of the others I 
 have mentioned. 
 
 * See the Conclusion of his View of Newton's Discoveries. 
 
380 ELEMENTS OF THE PriILOSQPHV 
 
 The advantages which the memory derives from, 
 a proper clafiilication of our ideas, may be beft con- 
 ceived by attending to its eflecls, in enabling us ta 
 conduct, with eafe, the common bufinefs of life. In 
 what inextrible confufion would the lawyer or the 
 merchant be immediately involved, if he were to de- 
 pofit, in his cabinet, promifcuoufly, the various writ- 
 ten documents which daily and hourly pafs through 
 his hands ? Nor could this confufion be prevented 
 by the natural powers of memory, however vigor- 
 ous they might happen to be. By a proper diftribu- 
 tion of thefe documents, and a judicious referrence 
 of them to a few general titles, a very ordinary memo- 
 ry is enabled to accomplifh more, than the mod reten- 
 tive, unailifted by method. We knovi^, with certain- 
 ty, where to find any article we may have occafion 
 for, if it be in our pofieffion ; and the fearch is con-« 
 fined within reafon2.bIe limits, inftead of being al- 
 lowed to wander at random amidil a chaos of par* 
 tieulars. 
 
 Or, to take an inflance flili more immediately ap- 
 plicable to our purpofe : fuppofe that a man of letters 
 were to record, in a common-place book, without 
 any method, all the various ideas and facts which 
 occurred to him in the courfe of his ftudies ; w-hat 
 difficulties w^ould hs perpetually experience in apply- 
 ing his acquifitions to ufe ? and how completely and 
 eafily might thefe difficulties be obviated by refer- 
 ing the particulars of his information to certain 
 general heads ? It is obvious, too, that, by doing fo, 
 he would not only have his knowledge much more 
 completely under his command, but as the particu- 
 lars claffed together would all have fome conne<5lion 
 more or less, with each other, he would be enabled 
 to trace with advantage, thofe mutual relations 
 among his ideas, which it is the objecl of philofophy 
 to afcertain. 
 
 A common-place book, conducted without apy 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 381 
 
 method, is an exact picture oF the memory of a man 
 whofe inquiries are not direded by philoiophy. And 
 the advantages of order in treafuring up our ideas 
 in the mind, are perfectly analogous to its effedls 
 when they are recorded in writing. 
 
 Nor is this all. In order to retain our knowledge 
 diftindiy and permanently, it is neceffary that we 
 fliould frequently recal it to our recoiiedion. But 
 how can this be done without the aid of arrangement? 
 Or fuppofing that it were poilible, how much time 
 and labor would be Keceffary for bringing under 
 our view the various particulars of which our infor- 
 mation is compofed ? In proportion as it is properly 
 fyilematifed, this time and labor are abridged. The 
 mind dwells habitually, not on detached fadls, but 
 on a comparatively fmali number of general princi-. 
 pies ; and, by means of thefe, it can fummon up, as 
 occalions may require, an infinite number of partic^ 
 ulars affociated with them ; each of which, confider- 
 ed as a foiitary truth, would have been as burthen- 
 Ibme to the memory, as the general principle with 
 which it is connected. 
 
 I would not wifh it to be underftood from thefe 
 obfervations, that philofophy confifts in clafiification 
 alone ; and that its only ufe is to allift the memory, 
 I have often, indeed, heard this aflerted in general 
 terms ; but it appeal's to me to be obvious, that al- 
 though this be one of its moft important ufes, yet 
 fomething more is neceffary to complete the defini- 
 tion of it. Were the cafe otherwife, it would fol- 
 low, that all claffifications are equally philofophical 
 provided they are equally comprehenfive. The ve- 
 ]?y great importance of this fubject will, I hope, be 
 a fuflicient apology for me, in taking this opportu- 
 nity to correct fome miftaken opinions which have 
 been formed concerning it. 
 
ELEMENTS OP THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Continuation of the fame fuhje6l, — Aid which the Memsc 
 ry derives from Philofophical Arrangement* 
 
 IT was before obferved, that the great ufe of the 
 faculty of Memory, is to enable us to treafure up, 
 for the future regulation of our conduct, the refults 
 of our paft experience, and of our paft reflections. 
 But in every cafe in which we judge of the future 
 from the paft, we muft proceed on the belief, that 
 there is, in the courfe of events, a certain degree, at 
 leall, of uniformity, i^nd, accordingly, this belief 
 is not only juftified by experience, but (as Dr. Reid 
 has fhewn, in a very fatisfadory manner) it forms a 
 part of the original conftitution of the human mind. 
 In the general laws of the material world, this uni- 
 formity is found to be complete ; infomuch that, in 
 the fame combinations of circumftances, we exped:, 
 with the moft perfect affurance, that the fame refults 
 will take place. In the moral world, the courfe of 
 events does not appear to be equally regular ; but 
 flill it is regular, to fo great a degree, as to afford us 
 many rules of importance in the condud of life. 
 
 A knowledge of Nature, in fo far as it is abfolute- 
 ly neceffary for the prefervation of our animal ex. 
 iftence, is obtruded on us, without any reflexion ©n 
 our part, from our earlieft infancy. It is thus that 
 children learn of themfelves to accommodate their 
 conduct to the eftablifhed laws of the material world. 
 In doing fo, they are guided merely by memory, 
 and the inftinCtive principle of anticipation, which 
 has juft been mentioned. 
 
 In forming conclufions concerning future events, 
 the philofopher, as well as the infant, can only build 
 with fafety on paft experience ; and he, too, as well 
 as the infant, proceeds on an inftind:ive belief, for 
 
O^ THE HUMAN MIND. S8S 
 
 tvhich he is unable to account, of the uniformity of 
 the laws of nature. There are, however, two im- 
 portant refped:s, which diftinguifh the knowledge 
 he pofleffes from that of ordinary men. In the firft 
 place, it is far more extenfive, in confequence of the 
 afliftance which fcience gives to his natural powers 
 of invention and difcovery. Secondly, it is not on- 
 ly more eafily retained in the memory, and more con- 
 veniently applied to ufe, in confequence of the man- 
 ner in which his ideas are arranged ; but it enables 
 him to afcertain, by a procefs of reafoning, all thofe 
 truths which may be fynthetically deduced from 
 his general principles. The illuftration of thefe par- 
 ticulars will lead to fome ufeful remarks ; and will 
 at the fame time fliew, that, in difcuffing the fubjed 
 of this Section, I have not loft fight of the inquiry 
 which occafioned it. 
 
 I. 1. It was already remarked, that the natural 
 powers of Memory, together with an inftiticflive an- 
 ticipation of the future from the paft, which forms 
 one of the original principles of the mind, are fufE- 
 cient to enable infants, after a very fhort experience, 
 to preferve their animal exiftence. The laws of na- 
 ture, which it is not fo important for us to know, 
 and which are the objects of philofophical curiofity, 
 are not fo obvioully expofed to our view, but are, in 
 general, brought to li^ht by means of experiments 
 which are made for the purpofe of difcovery ; or, 
 in other words, by artificial combinations of circum- 
 ftances, which we have no opportunity of feeing con- 
 joined in the courfe of our ordinary experience. In 
 this manner, it is evident, that many connexions 
 may be afcertained, which would never have occur- 
 red fpontaneoufly to our obfervation. 
 
 2. There are, too, fome inftances, particularly in 
 the cafe of the aftronomical phenomena, in which 
 event, that appear to common obfervers to be alto- 
 gether anomalous, are found, upon a more accurate 
 
584 ELEMENTS OF T^E PHlLOSdPHY 
 
 and continued examination of them, to be fubje(?led 
 to a regular law. Such are thofe phenomena in the 
 heavens, which we are able to predicl by means of 
 Cycles. In the cafes formerly defcribed, our knowl- 
 edge of nature is extended by placing her in new 
 iituations. In thefe cafes, it is exrended by continu- 
 ing our obfervations beyond the limits of ordinary 
 curiofity. 
 
 3. In the cafe of human affairs, as long as w^e con- 
 fine our attention to particulars, we do not obferve 
 the fame unlforniiry, as in the phenomena of the 
 material world. When, however, we extend out 
 views to events which depend on a combination of 
 different circujutiances, fuch a degree of uniformity 
 appears, as enables us to eftablifh general rules, from 
 which probable conjectures may often be formed 
 with" refpeci: to futurity. It is thus,' that we cati 
 pronounce, with much greater confidence, concern- 
 ing the proportion of deaths which fhall happen in a 
 certain period among a given number of men, than 
 we can predifl the death of any individual ; and 
 that it is more reafonable to employ our fagacity,irt 
 fpeculating concerning the probable determinations 
 of a numerous fociety, than concerning events which 
 depend on the will of a fingle perfon. 
 
 In what manner this uniformity in events depen- 
 ding on contingent circumllances is j^roduced, 1 fliall 
 not inquire at prefent. The advantages which we 
 derive from it are obvious, as it enables us to col- 
 led, from our pad experience, many general rules, 
 both with refpecl to the hill:ory of political focieties, 
 and the characters and condudl of men in private 
 life., 
 
 4. In the laft place ; the knowledge of the philof- 
 opher is more extenfive than that of other men, in 
 confequence of the attention which he gives, nOt 
 merely to objec^ls and to events, but to the relations 
 w^hich different objects and different events bear to 
 each other. 
 
GF THE HUMAN MIND, S8S 
 
 The obfervations and the experience of the vul- 
 gar are almolt wholly limited to things perceived by 
 the fenfes, A fimilarity between different objecls, 
 or between different events, roufes their curiofity, 
 and leads them toxlaflification, and to general rules. 
 But a fimilarity between different relations^ is feldom 
 to be traced without previous habits of philof )phic- 
 al inquiry. Many fuch familiarities or connections, 
 however, are to be found in nature ; and when once 
 they are afcertained, they frequently lead to impor- 
 tant difcoveries ; not only with refped to other re- 
 lations, but with refpec7t to the objecls or to the e- 
 vents which are related. Thefe remarks it will be 
 neceffary to illuftrate more particularly. 
 
 The great object of Geometry is to afcertain the 
 relations which exiff between different quantities, 
 and the connections which exift betw^een different re- 
 lations. When we demonftrate, that the angle at 
 the centre of a circle is double of the angle at the 
 circumference on the fame bafe, we afcertain a reh- 
 tion between two quantities. When we demon- 
 ftrate, that triangles of the fame altitude are to each 
 other as their bafes, we afcertain a conned:ion be- 
 tween two relations. It is obvious, how much the 
 mathematical fciences muft contribute to enlarge our 
 knowledge of the univerfe, in confequence of fuch 
 difcoveries. In that fimpleft of all proceifes of prac- 
 tical geometry, which teaches us to nieafure the 
 height of an acceflible tower, by comparing the 
 length of its Ihadow with that of a ftaff fixed verti- 
 cally in the ground, we proceed on the principle, 
 that the relation between the fhacjow of the ftaff 
 and the height of the flaff is the fame with the 
 relation between the fhadow of the tower and 
 the height of the tower. But the former rela- 
 tion we can afcertain by actual meafurement j 
 and, of confequence, we not only obtain the oth- 
 er relation ; but, as we can meafure one of the 
 A A a 
 
3S6 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 related quantities, we obtain alfo the other quanti- 
 ty. Tn every cafe in which mathematics afliils us 
 in meaiuring the magnitudes or the diftances of ob- 
 ■jecls, it proceeds on the fame principle ; that is, it 
 begins with afcertaining coned:ions among different 
 2*elations, and thus enables us to carry our inquiries 
 from fads which are expofed to the examination of 
 our fenfes, to the moft remote parts of the univerfe. 
 
 I obferved alfo, that there are various relations ex- 
 ifting among phyfical events, and various connec- 
 tions exifting among thefe relations. It is owing 
 to this circumftance, that mathematics is fo ufeful an 
 inftrument in the hands of the phyfical inquirer. In 
 that beautiful theorem of Huyghens, which demon- 
 ftrates, that the time of a complete ofcillation of a 
 pendulum in the cycloid, is to the time in which a 
 body would fall through the axis of the cycloid, as 
 the circumference of a circle is to its diameter, we 
 are made acquainted with a very curious and unex- 
 pe6ted conneftion between two relations ; and the 
 knowledge of this connexion facilitates the deter- 
 mination of a moft important fad with refpedl to the 
 defcent of heavy bodies near the earth's furface, 
 which could not be afcertained conveniently by a dt- 
 red experinient. 
 
 In examining, with attention, the relations among 
 different phyfical events, and the connexions among 
 different relations, we fometimes are led by mere 
 indudion to the difcoveiy of a general law ; while, 
 to ordinary obfervers, nothing appears but irregu- 
 larity. From the writings of the earlier opticians 
 we learn, that, -in examining the firft principles of 
 dioptrics, they were led, by the analogy of the law 
 of reflexion, to fearch for the relation between the 
 angles of incidence and refraction, (in the cafe of 
 light pafling from one medium into another,) in the 
 angles themfelves ; and that fome of them, finding 
 this inquiry unfucc^fsful, took the trouble to deter^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. S87 
 
 mine, by experiments, im the cafe of the media 
 which moft frequently fall under confideration,) the 
 angle of refraction correfponding to every minute of 
 incidence. Some very laborious tables, deduced 
 from fuch experiments, are to be found in the works 
 of Kircher. At length, Snelius difcovered what is 
 now called the law of refradion, which compre- 
 hends their whole contents in a lingle fentence. 
 
 The law of the planetary motions, deduced by 
 Kepler, from the obfervationsofTycho Brahe, is an- 
 other ftriking illuftration of the order, which an at- 
 tentive enquirer is fometimes able to trace, among 
 the relations of phyiical events, when the events 
 themfelves appear, on a fuperficial view, to be per- 
 fectly anomalous. 
 
 Such laws are, in fome refpeds, analogous to the 
 cycles which I have already mentioned ; but they 
 differ from them in this, that a cycle is, commonly, 
 deduced from obfervations made on phyfical events 
 which are obvious to the fenfes : whereas the laws 
 we have now been confidering, are deduced from 
 an examination of relations which are known only 
 to men of fcience. The mod celebrated aitronomic- 
 al cycles, accordingly, are of a very remote antiquity, 
 and were probably difcoverd at a period, when the 
 ftudy of aftronomy confifted merely in accumulating 
 and recording the more ftriking appearances of the 
 heavens. 
 
 II. Having now endeavored to fhew, how much 
 philofophy contributes to extend our knowledge of 
 fad^, by aiding our natural powers of invention and 
 difcovery, I proceed to explain, in what manner it 
 fupercedes the neceflity of Itudying particular truths, 
 by putting us in poireflion of a comparatively fmall 
 number of general principles in which they are in- 
 volved. 
 
 I already remarked the affiftance which philofo- 
 phy gives to the memory, in ccnfequence of the ar- 
 
SS8 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 rangement it introduces among our ideas. In thia 
 refped even a hypothetical theory may facilitate the 
 recollecllon of fafts ; in the fame manner in which 
 the memory is aided in remembering the obje<5i:s of 
 natural hiilory by artificial claffifications. 
 
 The advantages, however, we derive from true 
 philofophy, are incomparably greater than what are 
 to be expe<5l:ed from any hypothetical theories, 
 Thefe, indeed, may affiil us in recollecting the par- 
 ticulars we are already acquainted with ; but it is 
 only from the laws of nature, which have been tra- 
 ced analytically from fads, that we can venture, with 
 lafety, to deduce confequences by reafbning ^ />r/(?r/. 
 An example will illuftrate and confirm this obferva- 
 tion. 
 
 Suppofe that a glafs tube, thirty inches long, is 
 filled with mercury, excepting eight inches, and is 
 inverted as in the Torricellian experiment, fo that 
 the eight inches of common air may rife to the top ; 
 and tiiai I wifh to know at what height the mercu- 
 ry will remain fufpended in the tube, the barometer 
 being at that time twenty-eight inches high. There 
 is here a combination of diiferent laws, which it is 
 neceffary to attend to, in order to be able to predict 
 the refult. 1. The air is a heavy fluid, and the 
 preffure of the atmofphere is meafured by the col- 
 umn of mercury in the barometer. 2. The air is 
 an elaftic fluid ; and its elaflicity at the earth's fur- 
 face (as it refifts the preiTure of the atmofphere) is 
 meafured by the column of mercury in the barometer* 
 3. In different flates, the elaftic force of the air i; re- 
 ciprocally as the fpaces which it occupies. But, in 
 this experiment, the mercury which remains fufpen- 
 ded in the tube, together with the elaftic force of 
 the air in the top of the tube, is a counterbalance to 
 the preflure of the atmofphere y and therefore their 
 joint elled mull be equal to the preflure of a column 
 of mercury twenty- eight inches high. Hence we 
 
€>? THfi HUMAN MIND. 589 
 
 obtain an algt^braical equation, which afTords an eafy 
 folution of the problem. It is further evident, that 
 my knowledge of the phyfical laws which are here 
 combined, puts it in my power to foretell the refult, 
 not only in this cafe, but in all the cafes of a fimilar 
 nature which can be fuppofed. 'Ihe problem, in any 
 particular inftance, might be folved by making the 
 experiment ; but the refult would be of no ufe to 
 me, if the flighted alteration were made on the data. 
 
 It is in this manner that philofophy, by putting 
 us in pofTefllon of a few general fadis, enables us to 
 determine, by reafoning, what will be the refult of 
 any fuppofed combination of them, and thus to 
 comprehend an infinite variety of particulars, which 
 no memory, however vigorous, would have been 
 able to retain. 
 
 In confequence of the knowledge of fuch general 
 fadls the philofopher is relieved from the neceffiiy of 
 treafuring up in his mind, all tbofe truths which are 
 involved in his principles, and which may be dedu- 
 ced from them by reafoning ; and he can often pro- 
 fecute his difcoveries fynthetically, in thofe parts of 
 the univerfe which he has no accefs to examine by 
 immediate obfervation. There is, therefore, this 
 important difference between a hypothetical theory, 
 and a theory obtained by induction ; that the latter 
 not only enables us to remember the facls we already 
 know, but to afcertain by reafoning, many facts which 
 we have never had an opportunity of examining : 
 whereas, when we reafon from a hypothelis a priori^ 
 we are almoft certain of running into error ; and, 
 confequently, whatever may be its ufe to the mem- 
 ory, it can never be trufled to, in judging of cafes 
 which have not previoufly fallen within our experi- 
 ence. 
 
 There are fome fciences, in which hypothetical 
 theories are more ufeful than in others ; shofe fcien- 
 ces, to wit, in which we have occafion for an exten- 
 
a^O ELEMENTS (VF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 five knowledge and a ready recolledion of facls, and 
 which, at the fame time, are yet in too imperfect a 
 ftate to allow us to obtain juft theories by the meth- 
 od of indudion. This is particularly the cafe in the 
 fcience of medicine, in which we are under a ne- 
 ceflity to apply our knowledge, fuch as it is, to prac« 
 tice. It is alfo, in fome degree, the cafe in agricul- 
 ture. In the merely fpeculative parts of phifics and 
 chemiftry, we may go on patiently accumulating 
 fads, without forming any one conclufion, farther 
 than our fa6ls authorize us ; and leave to pofterity 
 the credit of eflablifhing the theory to which our 
 labors are fubfervient. But in medicine, in which 
 it is of confequence to have our knowledge at com- 
 mand, it feems reafonable to think, that hypothetical 
 theories may be ufed with advantage ; provided al- 
 ways, that they are confidered merely in the light of 
 artificial memories, and that the ftudent is prepared 
 to lay them afide, or to correct them, in proportion 
 as his knowledge of nature becomes more extenfive. 
 I am, indeed, ready to confefs that this is a caution 
 which it is more eafy to give than to follow : for it 
 is painful to change any of our habits of arrangement, 
 and to relinquifli thofe fyftems in which we have 
 been educated, and which have long flattered us with 
 an idea of our own wifdom. Dr Gregory mentions* 
 it as a ftriking and diftinguifhing circumftance in the 
 charader of Sydenham, that, although full of hypo- 
 thetical reafoning, it did not render him the lefs at- 
 tentive to obfervation ; and that his hypothefes feem 
 to have fat fo loofely about him, that either they 
 did not influence his practice at all, or he could ea- 
 fily abandon them, whenever they would not bend 
 to his experience. 
 
 * Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physician. 
 
^F THE HUMAN MIN-D. $91 
 
 SECTION V, 
 
 Continuation of the fame fubjed, — Effe6ls produced on iJye 
 Memory by committing to Writing our acquired Knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 HAVING treated at confiderable length of the 
 improvement of memory, it may not be improper, 
 before leaving this part of the fubjecl, to confider 
 what effech are likely to be produced on the mind 
 by the practice of committing to writing our acquir- 
 ed knowledge. That fuch a practice is unfavorable, 
 in fome refpecls, to the faculty of memory, by fuper- 
 feding, to a certain degree, the necellity of its exer- 
 tions, has been often remarked, and I believe is true ; 
 but the advantages with which it is attended in otb- 
 er refpeds, are fo important, as to overbalance great- 
 ly this trilling inconvenience. 
 
 It is not my intention at prefent to examine and 
 compare together the different methods which have 
 been propofed, of keeping a common-place book. 
 In this, as in other cafes of a fimilar kind, it may be 
 difficult, perhaps, or impolTible, to eflablifti any rules 
 which will apply univerfally. Individuals muft be 
 left to judge for themfelves, and to adapt their con- 
 trivances to the particular nature of their literary 
 purfuits, and to their own peculiar habits of affocia- 
 tion and arrangement. The remarks which I am to 
 offer are very general, and are intended merely to 
 illuflrate a few of the advantages which the art of 
 writing affords to the philofopher, for recording, in 
 the courfe of his progrefs through life, the reiuits of 
 his fpeculations, and the fruits of his experience. 
 
 The utility of writing, in enabling one generation 
 to tranfmit its difcoveries to another, and in thus 
 giving rife to a gradual progrefs in the fpecies, has 
 been fufliciently illuftrated by m^ny authors. Little 
 
392 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 attention, however, has been paid to another of itr^ 
 effects, which is uo lefs important ; I mean, to the 
 foundation which it lays for a perpetual progrefs in 
 the intelleclu il powers of the individual 
 
 It k to experience, and to our own refledions, 
 that we are indebted for by far the moft 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 advanced 
 years ; yet, in the cafe of a man of obfervation and 
 inquiry, the judgment may be expected, at lead as 
 long as his faculties remain in perfection, to become 
 every day founder and more enlightened. It is, 
 however, only by the conihnt pradice of writing, 
 that the refuits of our experience, and the pro- 
 grefs of our ideas, can be accurately recorded* 
 If they are trufted merely to the memory, they 
 will gradually vani,fh from it hke a dream, or 
 will come in time to be fo blended with the fuggefl- 
 ions of imagination, that we fhall not be able to realon 
 from them with any degree of confidence. What 
 improvements in fcience might we not flatter our- 
 felves with the hopes of accomplifliing, had we only 
 activity and induftry to treafure up every plaufible 
 hint that occurs to us ! Hardly a day paffes, when 
 many fuch do not occur to ourfelves, or are luggeft- 
 «d by others ; and detached and infulated, as they 
 may appear at prefent, fome of them may perhaps 
 afterwards, at the diitance of years, furniih the key* 
 ilone cf an important fyil:em. 
 
 But it is not only in this point of view that the 
 philolopher derives advantage from the prad:i; e of 
 wricino:. Vv^ithout its aiTiltance, he could feldom be 
 able to advance beyond thofe iimple elenientary 
 truths vi'hich are current in the world, and which 
 form, in the various branches of fcience, the eftab- 
 liflied creed of the age he lives in. How inconfider- 
 able would have been the progrefs of mathematicians.. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 393 
 
 ill their more abftrufe fpeculations, without the aid 
 of the algebraical notation ; and to what fublime 
 difcoveries have they been led by this beautiful con- 
 trivance, which by relieving the memory of the ef- 
 fort neceflary for recollecting the fteps of a long in- 
 Veftigation, has enabled them toprofecute an infinite 
 variety of inquiries, to which the unafntied powers 
 of the human mind would have been altogether un- 
 equal ! In the other fciences, it is true, we have (eU 
 dom or never occafion to follow out fuch long chains 
 of confequences as in mathematics ; but in thefe 
 fciences, if the chain of inveftigation be ihorter, it is 
 far more difficult to make the tranfition from one 
 link to another ; and it is only by dwelling long on 
 our ideas, and rendering them perfed:ly familiar to 
 U3, that fuch tranfitions can, in moft inftances, be 
 made with fafety. In morals and politics^ when we 
 advance a ftep beyond thofe elementary truths which 
 are daily prefented to us in books or converfation, 
 there is no method of rendering our conclufions fa- 
 miliar to us, but by committing them to writing, 
 and making them frequently the fubjedls of our med- 
 ication. When we have once done fo, thefe con- 
 clufions become elementary truths with refpecl 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 difcovery. By follow- 
 ing fuch a plan, wc can hardly fail to have our in- 
 duftry rewarded in due time by fome important im- 
 provement ; and it is only by fuch a plan that we can 
 reasonably hope to extend coniiderably the bounda- 
 ries of human knowledge. I do not fay that thefe hab- 
 its of ffudy are equally favorable to brilliancy of con- 
 verfation. On the contrary, I believe that thofe 
 men who poffefs this accomplifhment in the highefl 
 degree, are fuch as do not advance beyond elemen- 
 tary truths ; or rather, perhaps, who advance only 
 a fingle Itep beyoild them ; that is, who think a lit- 
 Bfib 
 
394 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILO&OPHY 
 
 tie more deeply than the vulgar, but whofe conclu- 
 fions are not fo far removed from common opinions, 
 as to render it neceflary for them, when called upon 
 to defend them, to exhauft the patience of their hear- 
 ers, by Hating a long train of intermediate ideas* 
 They who have pulhed their inquiries much farther 
 than the common fyftems of their times, and have 
 rendered familiar to their own minds the intermedi- 
 ate tteps by which they have been led to their con- 
 clulions, are too apt to conceive other men to be in 
 the fame fituation with themfelves ; and when they 
 mean to inilrucl, are mortified to find that they are 
 only regarded as paradoxical and vifionary. It is 
 but rarely we find a man of very fplendid and vari- 
 ous converfation to be poiTeffed of a profound judg- 
 ment or of great originality of genius. 
 
 Nor is it merely to the philofopher, who wifhes to 
 diftinguifh himfelf by his difcoveries, that waiting 
 affords an ufeful inflrument of fi:udy. Important 
 ailidance may be derived from it by all thofe who 
 wifh to imprels on their minds the inveftigations 
 which occur to them in the courfe of their reading ; 
 for although writing may w^eaken (as I already ac- 
 knowledged it does) a memory for detached obfer- 
 vations, or for infulated facls, it will be found the 
 only effedual method of fixing in it permanently, 
 thofe acquifitions which involve long procefTes of 
 reafoning. 
 
 When we are employed in inquiries of our own, 
 the conclufions which we form make a much deeper 
 and more lailing imprefTion on the memory, than 
 any knowledge which we imbibe pafilvely from an- 
 other. This is undoubtedly owing, in part, to the 
 efFecl which the ardour of difcovery has, in roufing' 
 the activity of the mind, and fixing its attention j 
 but I apprehend it is chiefly to be afcribed to this, 
 that when we follow out a train of thinking of our 
 own, our ideas are arranged in that order which is 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. S95 
 
 moft agreeable to our prevailing habits of afTociation. 
 The only method of putting our acquired knowledge 
 on a level, in this refpedl, with our original fpecula- 
 tions, is, after making ourfelves acquainted with our 
 author's ideas, to (ludy the fubjecl over again in our 
 own way ; to paufe, from time to time, in the 
 courfe of our reading, in order to confider what we 
 have gained ; to recolle<5t what the proportions are, 
 which the author wifhes to eftablifh, and to exam- 
 ine the different proofs which he employs to fupport 
 them. In making fuch an experiment, we com- 
 monly find, that the different fleps of the procefs ar- 
 range themfelves in our minds, in a manner different 
 from that in which the author has ftated them ; and 
 that, while his argument teems, in fome places, 
 obfcure, from its concifenefs ; it is tedious in others, 
 from being unneceffarily expanded. When we have 
 reduced the reafoning to that form, which appears 
 to ourfelves to be the moft natural and fatisfadory, 
 we may conclude with certainty, not that this form 
 is better in itfelf than another, but that it is the beft 
 adapted to our memory. Such reaibnings, there- 
 fore, as we have occafion frequently to apply, either 
 in the bufinefs of life, or in the courfe of our fludies, 
 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 neceffary to refrefh our recollection 
 on the fubjed:, to have recourfe to our own compo- 
 fitton, 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 difputed. Moll people 
 read merely to pafs an idle hour, or to pleafe them- 
 felves with the idea of employment, while their indo- 
 lence prevents them from any aftive exertion ; and 
 a confiderable number with a view to the difplay 
 which they are afterwards to make of their literary' 
 acquifitions. From whiclifoever of thefe motives a 
 
396 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 perfon is led to the perufal of books, it is hardly 
 poflible that he can derive from them any material 
 advantage. If he reads merely from indolence, the 
 ideas which pafs through his mind will probably leave 
 little or no impreflion ; and if he reads from vanity, 
 he will be more anxious to felect ftriking partic- 
 ulars in the matter or expreflion, than to leize the 
 fpirit and fcope of the author's reafoning, or to ex- 
 amine how far he has made 2Lny additions to the 
 ftock of ufeful and folid knowledge. " Though it 
 " is fcarce pollibie," fays Dr. Butler,* " to avoid 
 *' judging, in fome way or other, of almoft every 
 '' thing which offers itfelf to one's thoughts, yet it 
 *' is certain, that many perfons, from different caufes, 
 " never exercife their judgment upon what comes 
 ** before them, in fuch a manner as to be able to deter- 
 " mine how far it be conclufive. They are perhaps 
 *' entertained with fome things, not fo with others ; 
 *' they like, and they diflike ; but whether that which 
 *' is propofed to bs made out, be really made out or 
 *' not ; whether a matter be ftated according to the 
 " real truth of the cafe feems, to the generality of peo- 
 " pie, a circumftance of little or no importance. Ar- 
 " guments are often wanted for fome accidental pur- 
 *' pofe ; but proof, as fuch, is what they never want, 
 *' for their own fatisfaclion of mind, or conduct in 
 *' life. Not to mention the multitudes who read 
 " merely for the fake of talking, or to qualify them- 
 /*^ leives for the world, c>r fome fuch kind of reafons ; 
 " there are even of the few who read for their own 
 *' entertainment, and have a real curiofity to fee 
 ** what is faid, feveral, which is aftonilhing, who 
 " have no fort of curiofity, to fee what is true : 
 *' I fay c**jrioiity, becaufe it is too obvious to be 
 " mentioned how much that religious and facred at- 
 " tention which is due to truth, and to the impor- 
 
 * See the Preface to bis Sermons. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 397 
 
 " tant queftion, what is the rule of life, is loft out 
 *' of the world. 
 
 " For the fake of this whole clafs of readers, for 
 " they are of different capacities, different kinds, and 
 " get into this way froni different occafions, I have 
 ** often wifhed that it had been the cuftom to lay 
 " before people nothing in matters of argument but 
 ^' premifes, and leave them to draw conclufions 
 " themfelves ; which, although, it could not be done 
 " in all cafes, might in many. 
 
 " The great number of books and papers of a- 
 " raufement, which, of one kind or another, daily 
 ••^ come in one's way, have in part occafioned, and 
 *^ moft perfectly fall in with and humor this idle 
 '^ way of reading and confidering things. By this 
 " means, time, even in folitude, is happily got rid of 
 " without the pain of attention ; neither is any part 
 " of it more put to the account of idlenefs ; one 
 " can fcarce forbear faying, is fpent with lefs thought, 
 " than great part of that which is fpent in reading." 
 
 If the plan of ftudy which I formerly defcribed 
 were adopted, it would undoubtedly diminiih very 
 much the number of books which it would be pof- 
 fible to turn over ; but I am convinced that it would 
 add greatly to the flock of ufeful and fohd knowl- 
 edge ; and by rendering our acquired ideas in fome 
 meafure our own, would give us a more ready and 
 practical command of them : not to mention, that 
 if we are pofTefled of any inventive powers, fuch ex- 
 ercifes would continually furnifli them with art op- 
 portunity of difplaying themfelves upon all the dif. 
 ferent fubjecls which may pafs under our review. 
 
 Nothing, in truth, has fuch a tendency to weaken, 
 not only the powers of invention, but the intelleclu- 
 al powers in general, as a habit of extenfive and va- 
 rious reading, without reflection. The activity and 
 force of the mind are gradually impaired, in confe- 
 quence of difufej and not unfrequently all our 
 
398 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 principles and opinions come to be loft, in the infift- 
 ite niultiplicity and difcordancy of our acquired 
 ideas. 
 
 By confining our ambition to purfue the truth 
 with modefty and candor, and learning to value our 
 acquifitions only as far as they contribute to make 
 us wV'?r ind happier, we m ly perhaps be obliged to 
 facrifice the temporary admiration of the common 
 difpenfers of literary fame ; but we may reft aflur- 
 cd, that it is in this way only we can hope to make 
 real pro.grefs in knowledge, or to enrich the world 
 with ufeful inventions. 
 
 " It requires courage, indeed," (as Helvetius has 
 remarked,) " to remain iu,norant of thofe ufelefs fub- 
 *' jecls which are generally valued ;'* but it is a cour- 
 age necelTary to men who either love the truth, or 
 who afpire to eftabiifh a permanent reputation. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 Continuation of the fame Subjed. — Of Artificial Memory* 
 
 BY an Artificial Memory is meant, a method of 
 conneding in the mind, things difficult to be remem- 
 bered, with things eafily remembered ; fo as to ena- 
 ble it to retain, and to recollect the former by means 
 of the latter. For this purpofe, various contrivan- 
 ces have been propofed, but I think the foregoing 
 definition applies to all of them. 
 
 Some forts of artificial memory are intended to 
 affift the natural powers of the human mind on par- 
 ticular occafions, which require a more than ordina- 
 ry effort of recollection ; for example, to affift a 
 public fpeaker to recoiled: the arrarjgement of a long 
 difcourfe. Others have been devifed with a view 
 to enable us to extend the circle of our acquired 
 knowledge, and to give us a more ready command 
 of all the various particulars of our information. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 395i> 
 
 The topical Memory, fo much celebrated among 
 the ancient rhetoricians, comes under the former 
 defcription. 
 
 I already remarked, the efFed of fenfible objeds 
 in recalling to the mind the ideas with which it hap- 
 pened to be occupied, at the time when thefe objects 
 were formerly perceived. In travelling along a road 
 the fight of the more remarkable fcenes we meet 
 with, frequently puts us in mind of the fubjecls we 
 were thinking or talking of when we lafl faw them. 
 Such fads, which are perfectly familiar even to the 
 vulgar, might very naturally fuggeft the poflibility 
 of affifting the memory, by eftabiifhing a connection 
 between the ideas we wifli to remember, and cer- 
 tain fenfible objects, which have been found from 
 experience to make a permanent impreffion on the 
 mind.* I have been told of a young woman, in a ve- 
 ry low rank in life, who contrived a method of com- 
 mitting to memory the fermons which fhe was ac- 
 cuftomed to hear, by fixing her attention during the 
 different heads of the difcourfe, on different com- 
 partments of the roof of the church ; in fuch a man- 
 ner, as that, when fhe afterwards faw the roof, or 
 recollected the order in which its compartments 
 were difpofed, (he recollected the method which the 
 preacher had obferved in treating his fubject. This 
 contrivance was perfectly analogous to the topical 
 memory of the ancients; an art which, whatever 
 be the opinion we entertain of its ufe, is certainly 
 entitled, in a high degree, to the praife of ingenui- 
 Suppofe that I were to fix in my memory the dif- 
 
 * " Cum in loca aliqua post tempus reversi sumu«, non ipsa ag- 
 <« noscimus tantum, sed etiam, quae in his fecerimus, reminiscimur, 
 ** per^oneeque subeunt, nonunquam tacitae quoque cogitationes in 
 « mentem reverluntur. Nata est igitur, ut in plerisque, ars ab ex- 
 «' perimento." 
 
 tiLi>cT. Liit. Or at. lib. xi. cap. 2. 
 
400 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ferent apartments in feme very large building, and 
 that I had accuftomed myfelf to think of thefe a- 
 partments always in the fame invariable order. Sup- 
 pofe farther, that, in preparing myfelf for a public 
 difcourfe, in which T had occailon to treat of a great 
 variety of particulars, I was anxious to fix in my 
 memory the order I propofed to obferve in the com- 
 munication of my ideas. It is evident, that by a 
 proper divifion of my fubjed into heads, and by 
 conneding each head with a particular apartment^ 
 (which 1 could ealily do, by conceiving myfelf to 
 be fitting in the apartment while I was fludying the 
 part of my difcourfe I meant to conned w^ith it,) the 
 habitual order in which thefe apartments occurred 
 to my thoughts, would prefent to me, in their prop- 
 er arrangement, and without any effort on my part^ 
 the ideas of which I was to treat. It is alfo obvious; 
 that a very little pradice would enable me to avail 
 myfelf of this contrivance, without any embarrafT- 
 ment or diftradion of my attention.* 
 
 As to the utility of this art, it appears to me to 
 depend entirely on the particular objed which we 
 fuppofe the fpeaker to have in view ; whether, as 
 was too often the cafe with the ancient rhetoricians, 
 to bewilder a judge, and to filence an adverfary ; or 
 fairly and candidly to lead an audience to the truth. 
 On the former fuppofition, nothing can poffibly give 
 an orator a greater fuperiority, than the poflellion 
 
 * In so far as it was the object of this species of artificial mem- 
 ory to assist on orator in recollecting the plan and arrangennent 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 fa- 
 cilitate the recollection of a premeditated composition. In what 
 manner this was done, it is not easy to conjecture from the imper- 
 fect explanations of the art, which have been transmitted to mod- 
 ern times. The reader may consult Cicero de Orat. lib. ii. cap. 
 S7, 88. Rhetor, ad Herenniuvij lib. iii. cap. 16. et sccji. — Qv:^C'njfc. 
 luit, Orat. lib, xi. cap. 2. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 401 
 
 of a fecret, which, while it enables him to exprefs 
 himfelf with facility and the appearance of method, 
 puts it in his power, at the fan^e time, to difpofe his 
 arguments and his facts, in whatever order he judg- 
 es to be the moft proper to rniflead the judgment, 
 and to perplex the memory, of thofe whom he ad- 
 dreffes. And fuch, it is manifeft, is the effect, not 
 only of the topical memory of the ancients, but of 
 all other contrivances which aid the recoUedion, up- 
 on any principle different from the natural and lo- 
 gical arrangement of our ideas. 
 
 To thofe on the other hand, who fpeak with a view 
 to convince or to inform others, it is of confequence 
 that the topics which they mean to illuftrate, fhould 
 be arranged in an order equally favorable to their 
 own recolledion and to that of their hearers. For 
 this purp-^fe, nothing is effedual, but that method 
 which is fuggefted by the order of their own invef- 
 tigations ; a method which leads the mind from one 
 idea to another, either by means of obvious and 
 ftriking alfociations, or by thofe relations which 
 connect the different ileps of a clear and accurate 
 proceis of reafoning. It is thus only that the atten- 
 tion of an audience can be completely and inceffant- 
 ly engaged, and that the lubflance of a long dif- 
 courfe can be remembered without effort. And it 
 is thus only that a fpeaker, after a mature confider- 
 ation of his fubjedl, can poffefs a juft confidence in 
 his own powers of recolledion, in Hating all the 
 different premifes which lead to ihe conclufion he 
 wifhes to eftabiifli. 
 
 In modern times, fuch contrivances have been ve- 
 ry little, if at all, made ufe of by public Ipe.ikers; 
 but various ingenious attempts have been made, to 
 afliff the memory, in acquiring and retaining thofe 
 branches of knowledge which it has been fuppoied 
 neceffary for a fcholar to carry always about wltli 
 him ; and which, at the fame time, from the num- 
 C cc 
 
402 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ber of particular details which they involve, are not 
 calculated, of themfelves, to make a very lafting im- 
 preflion on the mind. Of this fort is the Menioria 
 Technica of Mr. Grey, in vv'hich a great deal of his- 
 torical, chronological and geographical kowledge is 
 comprifed in a fet of verfes, which the ftudent is fup- 
 pofed to make as familiar to himfelf as fchool-boys 
 do the rules of grammar. Thefe verfes are, in gen- 
 eral, a mere affemblage of proper names, difpofed in 
 a rude fort of meafure ; fome flight alterations be- 
 ing occafionally made on the final fyllables of the 
 words, fo as to be fignificant (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 ufeful to affociate with the 
 names. 
 
 I have heard very oppofite opinions w**th refped: 
 to the utility of this ingenious fyftem. The prevail- 
 ing opinion is, I believe, againft it ; although it has 
 been mentioned in terras of high approbation by 
 fome writers of eminence. Dr. Prieftley, whofe 
 judgment, in matters of this fort, is certainly enti- 
 tled to refpect, has fald, that " it is a method fo ea- 
 " fiiy learned, and which may be of fo much ufe in 
 *' recolleding dates, when other methods are not at 
 " hand, that he thinks all perfons of a liberal educa- 
 " tion inexcufable, who will not take the fmall de- 
 " gree of pains that is neceffary to make themfelves 
 " matters of it; or who think any thing mean, or 
 '' unworthy of their notice, which is fo ufeful and 
 " convenient."* 
 
 In judging of the utility of this, or of any other 
 contrivance of the fame kind, to a particular perfon, 
 a great deal mufl depend on the fpecies of memory 
 which he has received from nature, or has acquired 
 in the courfe of his early education. Some men, as 
 I already remarked,) efpecially among thofe who 
 * Lectures on History, p. 15T, 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIKD, 403 
 
 have been habitually exercifed in childhood in get- 
 ting by heart grammar rules,) have an extraordina- 
 ry facility in acquiring and retaining the mofl bar- 
 barous and the moft infignificant verfes ; which an- 
 other perfon would find as difficult to remember, as 
 the geographical and chronological details of which 
 it is the objed of this art to relieve the memory. 
 Allowing, therefore, the general utility of the art, 
 no one method, perhaps is entitled, to an exclufive 
 preference ; as one contrivance may be beft fuited 
 to the fiiculties of one perfon, and a very different 
 one to thofe of another. 
 
 One important objedion applies to all of them, 
 that they accuftom the mind to aflbciate ideas by ac- 
 cidental aud arbitrary connexions ; and, therefore, 
 how much foever they may contribute in tlie courfc 
 of converfation, to an oftentatious difplay of acquir- 
 ed knowledge, they are, perhaps, of little real fer- 
 vice to us, when we are feriouily engaged in the 
 purfuit of truth. I own, too, I am very doubtful 
 with refpecl to the utility of a great part of that in- 
 formation which they are commonly employed to 
 impreft on the memory, and on which the generali- 
 ty of learned men are difpofed to value themfelves. 
 It certainly is of no ufe, but in fo far as it is fubfervi- 
 ent to the gratification of their vanity ; and the ac- 
 quifition of it confumes a great deal of time and at- 
 tention, which might have been employed in extend- 
 ing the boundaries of human knowledge. To thofe, 
 however, who are of a different opinion, fuch con- 
 trivances as Mr. Grey's may be extremely ufeful : 
 and to all men they may be of fervice, in fixing in 
 the memory thofe infuiated and uninterefling par- 
 ticulars, which it is either neceffary for them to bs 
 acquainted with, from their fituation ; or which cuf- 
 tom has rendered, in the conmion opinion, eiTential 
 branches of a liberal education. I w^ould, in particu- 
 lar, recommend this author's method of recolleding 
 
404 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 dates, by fubftituting letters for the numeral cy- 
 phers ; and forming theie letters into words, and 
 the words into verles. I have found it, at leaft in 
 my own cafe, the moft effeclual of all fuch contrivan^ 
 ces of which I have had exoerience. 
 
 SECTION vn. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Std)jed. — Importance of making 
 a preper Se'edion among the Objects of our Knowledge^ 
 in order to derive Advantage from the Acquifttions of 
 
 Memory, 
 
 THE cultivation of Memory, with all the helps 
 that we can derive to it from art, will be of little ufe 
 to us unlefs w^e make a proper felection of the par- 
 ticulars to be remembered. Such a felection is ne- 
 celTary to enable us to profit by reading ; and ftiil 
 more fo, to enable us to profit by obfervation, to 
 wh'ch every man is indebted for by far the moft val- 
 uable part of his knowledge. 
 
 When we firft enter on any new literary purfuit, 
 we commonly find our efforts of attention painful 
 and unfatisfadlory. We have no difcrimination in 
 our curiofity ; and by grafping at every thing, we 
 fail in making thofe moderate acquifitions which are 
 fuited to our limited faculties. As our knowledge 
 extends, we learn to know what particulars are like- 
 ly to be of ufe to us ; and acquire a habit of dired- 
 ing our examination to thefe, without difiracling the 
 attention with others. It is partly owing to a fimi- 
 3ar circumftance, that moft readers complain of a de- 
 fect of memory, when they firft enter ^n the ftudy 
 of hiftory. They cannot fep..* ate important from 
 trifling fads, and find themlelves unable to retain 
 any thing, from their anxiety to fecure the whole. 
 
 In order to give a proper diredion to our atten- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 405 
 
 tion in the courfe of our ftudles, it is ufeful, before 
 engaging in particular purfuits, to acquire as famil- 
 iar an acquaintance as pofTible with the great outlines 
 of the different branches of fcience ; with the moft 
 important conclufions which have hitherto been 
 formed in them, and with the moft important defid- 
 erata which remain to be fupplied. In the cafe too 
 of thofe parts of knowledge, which are not yet ripe 
 for the formation of philofophical fyttems, it may 
 be of ufe to ftudy the various hypothetical theories 
 which have been propofed for connecting together 
 and arranging the phenomena. By fuch general 
 views alone we can prevent ourfelves from being loft, 
 amidft a labyrinth of particulars, or can engage in a 
 courfe of extenfive and various reading, with an en- 
 lightened and difcriminating attention. While they 
 withdraw our notice from barren and infulated fa<5ls, 
 they direct it to fuch as tend to illutlrate principles 
 which have either been already eftablilhed, or which^ 
 from having that degree of connexion among them- 
 felves, which is ncceffary to give plaufibility to a hy- 
 pothetical theory, are likely to furnifli, in time, the 
 materials of a jufter fyiiem. 
 
 Some of the followers of Lord Bacon have, I 
 think, been led, in their zeal for the method of in- 
 duction , to cenfure hypothetical theories with too 
 great a degree of feverity. Such theories have cer- 
 tainly been frequently of ufe, in putting philofophers 
 upon the road of difcovery. Indeed, it has proba- 
 bly been in this way, that moft difcoveries have been 
 made ; for although a knowledge of fads muft be 
 prior to the formation of a juft theory, yet a hypo- 
 thetical theory is generally our beft guide to the 
 knowledge of ufeful facts. If a man, without for- 
 ming to himfelf any conjecture concerning the un- 
 known laws of nature, were to fet himfelf merely to 
 accumulate fads at random, he might, perhaps, ftum- 
 ble upon feme important difcovery j but by far the 
 
406 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 greater p:irt of his labors would be wholly ufelefs. 
 Every philofophical inquirer, before he begins a fet 
 of experiments, has fome general principle in his 
 view, which he fufpecls to be a law of nature :* and 
 although his conjedlures may be often wrong, yet 
 they ferve to give his inquiries a particular 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 difcover the 
 phiio fcipher's ftone, and the quadrature of the circle, 
 have led to many ufeful difcoveries in chemiflry and 
 mathematics. And they have plainly done fo, mere- 
 ly by limiiting the field of obfervation and inquiry, 
 and checking that indifcriminate and defultory at- 
 tention which is fo natural to an indolent mind. A 
 hypothetical theory, however erroneous, may an- 
 fwer a fimilar purpofe. " Prudens interrogatio,'* 
 (fays Lord Bacon,) " eft dimidium fcientias. Vaga 
 " enim expericntia et fe tantum fequens mera palpa- 
 *' tio eft, et homines potius ftupefacit quam infor- 
 " mat " What, indeed, are Newton's queries, but 
 fo many hypothefes which are propof^d as fubjects 
 of examination to philofophers ? And did not even 
 the great doctrine of gravitation take its firft rife 
 from a fortunate conjedure ? 
 
 While, therefore, we maintain with the followers of 
 Bacon, that no theory is to be admitted as proved, 
 any farther than it is fupported by facts, we (hould, 
 at the fame time, acknowledge our obligations to 
 thofe writers who hazard their conjectures to the 
 world with modefty and diffidence. And it may 
 not be improper to add, that men of a fyftematizing 
 
 * « Recte siqiiidem Piato, " Qui aliquid quaprit, id ipsum, quo4 
 •■' quaerit, general! quadam notions comprehendit : aliter, qui fieri 
 " potest, ut iUud, cmn fuerit inventum, agnoscat ?" Idcirco quo 
 -'- ampiior et certior fuerit anticipatio nostra ; eo magis directa et 
 '- compendiosa erit investigatio.'* 
 
 De Aug. Sclent, lib V. cap. 3. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 407 
 
 turn are not now fo ufelefs as formerly ; for we are 
 already pofTefled of a great ftock of fadls ; and there 
 is fcarcely any theory fo bad as not to bring togeth- 
 er a number of particulars which have a certain de- 
 gree of relation or analogy to each other. 
 
 The foregoing remarks are applicable to all our 
 various (Indies ; whether they are condudled in the 
 way of reading, or of obfervation. From neither of 
 thefe two fources of information can we hope to de- 
 rive much advantage, unlefs we have fome general 
 principles to direc^t our attention to proper objeds.. 
 
 With refpect to obfervation, fome farther cautions 
 may be ufeful ; for in guarding againft an indifcrim- 
 inate accumulation of particulars, it is poflible to fail 
 into the oppofite extreme, and to acquire a habit of 
 inattention to the phenomena which prefent them- 
 felves to our fenfes. The former is the error of men 
 of little education ; the latter is more common a« 
 mong men of retirement and ftudy. 
 
 One of the chief efFeds of a liberal education, is 
 to enable us to withdraw our attention frpm the 
 prefent objeds of the perceptions, and to dwell at 
 pleafure on the pad, the abfent, or the future. But 
 when we are led to carry thefe efforts to an excefs, 
 either from a warm and romantic imagination, or 
 from an anxious and fanguine temper, it is eafy to 
 fee that the power of obfervation is likely to be weak- 
 ened, and habits of inattention to be contraded. — 
 The fame effect may be produced by too early an in- 
 dulgence in philofophical purfuits, before the mind 
 has been prepared for the ftudy of general truths by 
 exercifmg its faculties among particular objeds, and 
 particular occurrences. In this way, it contracts an 
 averfion to the examination of details, from the 
 pleafure which it has experienced in the contempla- 
 tion or in the difcovery of general principles. Both 
 of thefe turns of thought, however, preluppofe a 
 certain degree of obfervation j for the materials of 
 
408 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ioiagination are fapplied by the fenfes ; and the gen- 
 eral truths which occupy* the philofopher, would be 
 w^holly unintelligible to him, if he was a total ftran- 
 ger to all experience with reipe£l to the courfe of na- 
 ture and of human life. The obfervations, indeed, 
 which are made by men of a warm imagination, are 
 likely to be inaccurate and fallacious ; and thofe of 
 the fpeculative philofopher are frequently carried no 
 farther than is neceflary to enable him to compre- 
 hend the terms which relate to the fubjecls of his 
 reafoning ; but both the one and the other muft 
 have looked abroad occaiionally at nature, and at 
 the world ; if not to afcertain facls by aclual examina- 
 tion, at leaft to ftore their minds with ideas. 
 
 The metaphyfician, whofe attention is directed to 
 the faculties and operations of the mind, is the only- 
 man who poiTefles within himfelf the materials of 
 liis fpeculations and rcafonings. It is accordingly- 
 among this clafs of literary men, that habits of inat- 
 tention to things external have been carried to the 
 greateil extreme. <■■ 
 
 It is obferved by Dr. Reid, that the power of reflec- 
 tion, (by which he means the power of attending to 
 the fubjecls of our concioufnefs,) is the laft of our in- 
 telledual faculties which unfolds itfelf ; and that in 
 the greater part of mankind it never unfolds itfelf at 
 all. It is a power, indeed, which being fubfervient 
 merely to the gratification of metaphyseal curiofity, 
 it is not elTentially neceflary for us to poflefs, in any 
 coftfiderable degree. The power of obfervation, on 
 the other hand, which is necefl^u'y for the preferva- 
 tion even of our animal exigence, diicovers itfelf 
 in infants long before they attain the ufe of fpeech ; or 
 rather, I fhould have faid, as foon as they come into 
 the world : and where nature is allowed free fcope, 
 it continues active and vigorous through life. Jt 
 was plainly the intention of nature, that in infancy 
 and youth it Ihould occupy the mind almoft cxclu- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 409 
 
 lively, and that we fliould acquire all our neceffary 
 information before engaging in fpeculations which 
 are lefs eflential : and accordingly this is the hiftory 
 of the intelledual progrefs, in by far the greater 
 number of individuals. In confequence of this, the 
 difficulty of metaphyfical refearches is undoubtedly 
 much increafed ; for the mind being conftantly oc- 
 cupied in the earlier part of life about the proper- 
 ties and laws of matter, acquires habits of inatten- 
 tion to the fubjects of confcioufnefs, which are not 
 to be furmounted, without a degree of patience and 
 perfeverance of which few men are capable : but 
 the inconvenience would evidently have been greatly 
 increafed, if the order of nature had, in this refpeft, 
 been reverfed, and if the curiofity had been excited 
 at as early a period, by the phenomena of the intel- 
 lectual world, as by thofe of the material. Of what 
 would have happened on this fuppofition, we may 
 form a judgment from thofe men who, in ( onfe- 
 quence of an exceffive indulgence in metaphyfical 
 purfuits, have weakened, to an unnatural degree, 
 their capacity of attending to external objedls and 
 occurrences. Few metaphyficians, perhaps, are to 
 be found, who are not deficient in the power of ob- 
 fervation : for, although a tafte for fuch abftracb 
 fpeculations is far from being common, it is more 
 apt, perhaps, than any other, when it has once been 
 formed, to take an exclufive hold of the mind, and 
 to {hut up the other lources of intelledual improve- 
 ment. As the metaphyfician carries within himfelf 
 the materials of his reafoning, he is not under a ne- 
 ceffity of looking abroad for fubjecls of fpeculation 
 or amufement ; and unlefs he be very careful to 
 guard againft the efFeds of his favorite purfuits, he 
 is in more danger than literary men of any other 
 denomination, to lofe all intereft about the common 
 and proper objects of human curiofity. 
 
 Dod 
 
410 ELEMENTS Of THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 To prevent any danger from this quarter, I appre- 
 hend that the lludy of the mind Ihould form the 
 iaft branch of the education of yi)uth ; an order 
 which nature herfelf feems to point out, by what I 
 have already remarked, with refpecl to the devel- 
 opement of our facuhies. After the underftanding 
 is well ftored with particular fads, and has been con- 
 verfant with particular fcientific purfuits,it will be en- 
 abled to fpecuhte concerning its own powers with 
 additional advantage, and will run no hazard of in- 
 dulging too far in fuch inquiries. Nothing can be 
 more abfurd, on this as well as on many other ac- 
 counts, than the common practice which is followed 
 in our univerfities, of beginning a courfe of philofoph- 
 ical education with the ftudy of logic. If this order 
 were completely reverfed ; and if the ftudy of logic 
 were delayed till after the mind of the ft:udent was 
 well ftored with particular fadls in phyiics, in chem- 
 iftry, in natural and civil hiftory ; his attention 
 might be^ led with the moft important advantage, 
 and without any danger to his power of obfervation^ 
 to an examination of his own faculties ; which, be- 
 fidcs opening to him a new and pleafing field of 
 fpeculation, would enable him to form an eftimate 
 of his own powers, of the acquifitions he has made, 
 of the habits he has formed, and of the farther im- 
 provements of which his mind is fufceptible. 
 
 In general, wherever habits of inattention, and an 
 incapacity of obfervation, are very remarkable, they 
 will be found to have arifen from fome defect in ear- 
 ly education I already remarked, that, when nature 
 is allowed free fcope, the curiofity, during early 
 youth, is alive to every external objed:, and to 
 every external occurrence, while the powers of 
 imagination and reflection do not difplay them- 
 felves till a much later period ; the former till 
 about the ag?^ of puberty, and the latter till we ap- 
 proach to manhood. It fometimes, however, hap- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4)1 
 
 pens that, in confequence of a peculiar difpofition 
 of mind, or of an infirm bodily conilitution, a child 
 is led to feek amufement from books, and to lofe a 
 relifli for thofe recreations which are fuited to his 
 age. In fuch inftances, the ordinary progrefs of the 
 intellectual powers is prematurely quickened ; but 
 that beft of all educations is loft, which nature has 
 prepared both for the philofopher and the man of 
 the world, amidft the active fports and the hazard- 
 ous adventures of childhood. It is from thefe alone, 
 that we can acquire, not only that force of character 
 which is fuited to the more arduous fituations oi 
 life, but that complete and prompt command gf at- 
 tention to things external, without which the high- 
 eft: endowments of the underftanding, however they 
 may fit a man for the ft)litary fpeculations of the 
 clofet, are but of little ufe in the practice of affairs, 
 or for enabling him to profit by his perfonal experi- 
 ence. 
 
 Where, however, fuch habits of inattention have 
 unfortunately been contracted, we ought not to de- 
 fpair of them as perfectly incurable. The attention, 
 indeed, as I formerly remarked, can feldom be forced 
 in particular inftances ; but we may gradually learn 
 to place the obje6ts we wifli to attend to, in lights 
 more interefting than thofe in which we have been 
 accuftomed to view them. Much may be expected 
 from a change of fcene, and a change of purfuits ; 
 but above all, much may be expected from foreign 
 travel. The objects which we meet with excite our 
 furprife by their novelty ; and in this manner we 
 not only gradually acquire the power of obferving 
 and examining them with attention, but, from the 
 effects of contraft, the curiofity comes to be roufed 
 with refpect to the correfponding objects in our own 
 country, which, from our early familiarity with 
 them, we had formerly been accultomed to overlook. 
 In this refpect the effects of foreign travel, in direct- 
 
412 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 ing the attention to familiar objects and occurrences, 
 is Ibmewhat analogous to that which the ftudy of a 
 dead or a foreign language produces, in leading the 
 curiolity to exaniine the grammatical ftrudure of our 
 own. 
 
 Confiderable advantage may alfo be derived, in 
 overcoming the habits of inattention, which we may 
 have contracted to particular fubjecls, from ftudying 
 the fyftems. true or falfe, which phllofophers have 
 propofed for explaining or for arranging the h£ts 
 conneded with them. By means of thefe fyftems, 
 not only is the curiofity circumfcribed and direded, 
 inftead of being allowed to wander at random, but, 
 in confequence of our being enabled to conriect facts 
 with general principles, it becomes interefted in the 
 examination (;f thofe particulars which would other- 
 wife have efcaped our notice. 
 
 SECTION VIII. 
 
 Of the Connexion between Memory and fhilofophical 
 Genius. 
 
 IT is commonly fuppofed, that genius is feldom 
 united with a very tenacious memory. So far, how- 
 ever, as my own obfervation has reached, I can 
 fcarcely recoiledl one perfon who poffeffes the for- 
 mer of thefe qualities, without a m.ore than ordinary 
 Ihare of the latter. 
 
 On a fuperficial view of the fubjeCl, indeed, the 
 common opinion has fome appearance of truth ; for, 
 we are naturally led, in confequence of the topics 
 about which converfation is ufually employed, to ef- 
 timate the extent of memory, by the impreflion 
 which trivial occurrences make upon it ; and thefe 
 in general efcape the recolledion of a man of ability, 
 not becaufe he is unable to retain them, but becaufe 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 413 
 
 he does not attend to them. It is probable, likewife, 
 that accidental affociations, founded on contiguity 
 in time and place, may make but a flight impreffion 
 on his mind. But it does not therefore follow, that 
 his ftock of fads is fmall. They are conneded to- 
 gether in his memory by principles of aflbc^ation, 
 different from thofe which prevail in ordinary minds; 
 and they are on that very account the more uferul : 
 for as the affcKiations are founded upon real connec- 
 tions among the ideas, (although they may be lefs 
 conducive to the fluency, and perhaps to the wit of 
 converfation,) they are of incomparably greater ufe 
 in fuggefting fads which are to ferve as a founda- 
 tion for reafoning or for invention. 
 
 It frequently happens, too, that a man of genius, 
 in confequence of a peculiarly ftrong attachment to 
 a particular fubjed, may firft feel a want of inclina- 
 tion, and may afterwards acquire a want of capacity 
 of attending to common occurrences. But it is 
 probable that the whole ftock of ideas in his mind, 
 is not inferior to that of other men ; and that how- 
 ever unprofitably he may have direded his curiolity, 
 the ignorance which he difcovers on ordinary fub- 
 jeds does not arife from a want of memory, but 
 from a peculiarity in the feledion which he has 
 made of the objeds of his ftudy. 
 
 Montaigne* frequently complains in his writings, 
 of his want of memory ; and he indeed gives many 
 very extraordinary inftances of his ignorance on 
 fome of the moft ordinary topics of information- 
 But it is obvious to any perfon who reads his works 
 with attention, that this ignorance did not proceed 
 from an original defed of memory, but from the 
 
 * II n'est homme a qui il siese si mal de se mi^sler de par- 
 ler de meinoire. Car je n'en recogoov quasi trace en inoy ; 
 et ne pense qu'il y en ait au monde une autre si niarveil- 
 leuse en defaillance. 
 
 JEssais de Montaigne, liv. i. cb. 9. 
 
414 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fingular and whimfical dire^lion which his curiofity 
 had taken at an early period of life. " I can do 
 " nothing," fays he, " without my memorandum 
 *' book ; and fo great is my difficulty in remember- 
 " ing proper names, that I am forced to call my do- 
 " melHc fervants by their offices. I am ignorant of 
 " the greater part of our coins in ufe ; of the difFer- 
 " ence of one grain from another, both in the earth 
 " and in the granary ; what ufe leaven is of m making 
 " bread, and why wine muft Hand fome time in the 
 *' vat before it ferments." Yet the fame author ap- 
 pears evidently, from his writings, to have had his 
 memory ftored with an infinite variety of apothegms, 
 and of hiftorical palTages, which had itruck his imagi- 
 nation ; and to have been familiarly acquainted, not 
 oifly with the names, but with the abfurd and explo- 
 ded opinions of the antient philofophers ; with the 
 ideas of Plato, the atoms of Epicurus, the plenum and 
 vacuum of Leucippus and Democritus, the water of 
 Thaies, the numbers of Pythagoras, the infinite of 
 Parmenides, and the unity of Mufasus. In complain- 
 ing too of his want of prefence of mind, he direclly 
 acknowledges a degree of memory which, if it had 
 been juuicioufly employed, would have been more 
 than fufficient for the acquifition of all thofe common 
 branches of knowledge in which he appears \o have 
 been deficient. " When I have an oration to fpeak," 
 fays he, '^ of any confiderable length, I am reduced 
 " to the miferable neceffity of getting it, word for 
 " word, by heart." 
 
 The firange and apparently inconfiflent combina- 
 tion of knov/ledge and ignorance which the writings 
 of Montaigne exhibit, led Malebranche (who feems to 
 have formed too low an opinion both of his genius 
 and charader) to tax him with affectation ; and even 
 to call in queftion the credibility of fome of his affer- 
 tions. But no one who is well acquainted with this 
 mofl amufing author, can reafonably fufped his ve^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 415 
 
 racity ; and, In the prefent inftance, I can give him 
 complete credit, not only from my general opinion 
 of his fincerity, but from having obferved, in the 
 courfc of my own experience, more than one exam- 
 ple of the fame fort of combination ; not indeed 
 carried to fuch a length as Montaigne defcribes, but 
 bearing a ftriking refemblance to it. 
 
 The obfervations which have already been made, 
 account, in part, for the origin of the common opin- 
 ion, that genius and memory are feldom united in 
 great degrees in the fame perfon ; and at the fame 
 time fliew, that fome of the fads on which that opin- 
 ion is founded, do not juftify fuch a conclufion. Be- 
 fides thefe, however, there are other circumftances, 
 which at firft view, feem rather to indicate an in- 
 confiftency between extenlive memory and original 
 genius. 
 
 The fpecies of memory which excites the greateft 
 degree of admiration in the ordinary intercourfe of 
 fociety, is a memory for detached and infulated 
 fads ; and it is certain that thofe men who are pof- 
 felTed of it, are very feldom diftinguiflied by the 
 higher gifts of the mind. Such a fpecies of memo- 
 ry is unfavorable to philofophical arrangement ; be- 
 caufe it in part fupplies the place of arrangement. 
 One great ufe of philofophy, as I already ihewed, is; 
 to give us an exteniive command of particular 
 truths, by furnilhing us Vv'ith general principles, un- 
 der which a number of fuch truths is comprehended. 
 A perfon in whofe mind cafual affociations of time 
 and place make a lafting impreflion, has not the 
 fame inducements to philofophize, with others who 
 conned fads together, chiefly by the relations of 
 caufe and efFecl, or of premifes and conclufion. I 
 I have heard it obferved, that thofe men who have; 
 rifen to the grcatefl eminence in the profellion of law, 
 have been in general fuch as had, at lirll, an avcrfion 
 to the fludy. The reafon probably is, that to a mind 
 
416 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 fond of general principles, every ftudy muft be at 
 firft difguiling. which prefents to it a chaos of fadls 
 apparently unconneded with each other. But this 
 love of arrangement, if united with perfevering in- 
 duftry, will at laft conquer every difficulty ; will in- 
 troduce order into what feenied on a fuperficial view, 
 a mafs of confulion, and reduce the dry and unin- 
 terefting detail of pofitive iiatutes into a fyllem com- 
 paratively luminous and beautiful. 
 
 The oblervation, I believe, may be made more 
 general, and may be applied to every fcience in which 
 there is a great multiplicity of fa6ts to be remember- 
 ed. A man deftitute of genius may, with little ef- 
 fort, treafure up in his memory a number of partic- 
 ulars in chemiftry or natural hiftory, which he re- 
 feirs to no principle, and from which he deduces no 
 conclufion ; and from his facility in acquiring this 
 {lock of information, may flatter himfeif with the 
 belief that he pofleffes a natural tafte for thefe bran- 
 ches of knowledge. But they who are really deflin- 
 ed to extend the boundaries of fcience, when they 
 firil enter on new purfuits, feel their attention dis- 
 tracted, and their rnemor}^ overloaded Vv^ith facls 
 among which they can trace no relation, and are 
 fometimes apt to defpair entirely of their future pro- 
 grefs. In due time, however, their fuperiority ap- 
 pears, and arifes in part from that very diflatisfac- 
 tion which they at firft experienced, and which does 
 not ceafe to ftimulate their inquiries, till they are 
 enabled to trace, amidft a cliaos of apparently uncon- 
 nected materials, that fimplicity and beauty which 
 always charaderife the operations of nature. 
 
 There are, befides, other circumftances which re- 
 tard the progrel's of a man of genius, when he en- 
 ters on a new purfuit, and which fometimes render 
 him apparently inferior to thofe who are pofleffed of 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 41? 
 
 ordinary capacity. A want of curiofity,* and of in- 
 vention, facilitates greatly the acquifition of knowl- 
 edge. It renders the mind paffive, in receiving the 
 ideas of others, and faves all the time which might 
 be employed in examining their foundation, or in 
 tracing their confequences. They who are pofTelTed 
 of much acutenefs and originality, enter with diffi- 
 culty into the views of others ; not from any defe6b 
 in their power of appreheniion, but becaufe they 
 cannot adopt opinions which they have not examin- 
 ed ; and becaufe their attention is often feduced bv 
 their own fpeculations. 
 
 It is not merely in the acquifition of knowledge 
 that a man of genius is likely to find himfelf furpaf- 
 fed by others : he has commonly his information 
 much lefs at command, than thofe who are polTefled 
 of an inferior degree ot originahty ; and, what is 
 /bmewhat remarkable, he has it leaft of all at com- 
 mand on thofe fubjecls on which he has found his 
 invention moft fertile. Sir Ifaac Newton, as we are 
 told by Dr. Pemberton, was often at a lofs, when 
 the converlation turned on his own difcoveries.f It 
 is probable that they made but a flight impreflion 
 on his mind, and that a confcioufnefs of his inven- 
 tive powers prevented him from taking much jains 
 to treafure them up in his memory. Men of little 
 ingenuity feldom forget the ideas they acquire ; be- 
 caufe they know that when an occalion occurs for 
 applying their knowledge to ufe, they muft truft to 
 memory and not to invention. Explain an arith- 
 metical rule to a perfon of common underllanding, 
 who is unacquainted with the principles of the 
 fcience ; he will foon get the rule by heart, and be- 
 
 * 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." 
 
 t See Note [T.] 
 E E e 
 
418 ELEMENTS Of THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 come dexterous in the application of it. Another^ 
 of more ingenuity, will examine the principle of the 
 rule before he applies it to ufe, and will fcarcely take 
 the trouble to commit to memory a procefs, which 
 he knows he can, at any time^ with a little reflection, 
 recover. The confequence will be. that, in the prac- 
 tice of calculation, he will appear more flow and hef- 
 itating, than if he followed the received rules of a- 
 rithmetic without reflection or reafoning. 
 
 Something of the fame kind happens every day 
 in converfation. By far the greater part of the o- 
 pinions we announce in it, are not the immediate 
 refult of reafoning on the fpot, but have been previ- 
 oufly formed in the clofet, or perhaps have been a- 
 dopted implicitly on the authority of others. The 
 promptitude, therefore, with which a man decides in 
 ordinary difcourfe, is not a certain teft of the quick- 
 nefs of his appreheniion ;* as it may perhaps arife 
 from thofe uncommon efforts to furnifh the memo- 
 ry with acquired knowledge, by which men of flow 
 parts endeavor to compenfate for their want of in- 
 vention ; while, on the other hand, it is poflible 
 that a confcioufnefs of originality may give rife to a 
 manner apparently embarraffed, by leading the per- 
 fon who feels it, to truft too much to extempore ex- 
 ertions.! 
 
 * Memoriafacit prompti ingenii famam,ut ilia quae dlcimusnon 
 domo attulisse, sed ibi protinus sumpsisse videamur. 
 
 ^uiNCfiL. Inst. Orat. lib. xi. cap. 2. 
 
 fin the foregoing observations it is not meant to be implied, 
 that originality of genius is incompatible with a ready recollection 
 of acquired knov/ledge ; but only that it has a tendency unfavora- 
 ble to it, and that more time and practice will commonly be re- 
 cessary to familiarise the mind of a man of nivention to the ideas 
 of others, or even to the conclusions of his own understanding, than 
 are requisite in ordinary cases. Habits of literary conversation, 
 and, still more, habits of extempore discussion in a popular assena- 
 bly, are peculiarly useful in giving us a ready and practical com- 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 419 
 
 III general, I believe it may be laid down as a rule, 
 that thofe who carry about with them a great de- 
 gree of acquired information, which they have al- 
 ways at command, or who have rendered their own 
 difcoveries fo familiar to them, as always to be in a 
 condition to explain them, without recolledion, are 
 very feldom pofieffed of much invention, or even of 
 much quicknefs of apprehenfion. A man of origin- 
 al genius, who is fond of exercifing his reafoning 
 powers anew on every point as it occurs to him, 
 and who cannot fubmit to rehearfe the ideas of oth- 
 ers, or to repeat by rote the conclufions which he 
 has deduced from previous reiledion, often appears, 
 to fuperficial obfervers, to fall below the level of or- 
 dinary underftandings ; while another, deftitute both 
 of quicknefs and invention, is admired for that 
 promptitude in his decifions, which arifes from the 
 inferiority of his intelle<5lual abilities. 
 
 It muft indeed be acknowledged in favor of the 
 ^aft defcription of men, that in ordinary converfa- 
 tion they form the moft agreeable, and perhaps the 
 moft inftrud:ive, companions. How inexhaullible 
 foever the invention of an individual may be, the 
 variety of his own peculiar ideas can bear no pro- 
 portion to the whole mafs of ufeful and curious in- 
 formation of which the world is already poflbfled. 
 The converfation, accordingly, of men of genius, is 
 fometimes extremely limited ; and is interefting to 
 the few alone, who know the value, and who can 
 diftinguilh the marks of originality. In confequence 
 too of that partiality which every man feels for his 
 own fpeculations, they are more in daiigcr of being 
 dogmatical and difputatious, tiian thofe who have no 
 fyftem which they are interefted to defend. 
 
 mand of our knowledge. There Is much good sense in the follov/- 
 ing aphorism of Bacon : " Reading maUei: a full man, writing a 
 *' correct man, and speaking a ready man." See a commentary 
 c^n this aphorism in one of the Numbers of the Adventurer. 
 
420 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 The fame obfervations may be applied to authors. 
 A book which contains the difcoveries of one indi- 
 vidual only, may be admired by a few, who are in- 
 timately acquainted with the hiftory of t^he fcience 
 to which it relates, but it has little chance for p(>pu- 
 larity with the multitude. An author who poffeffes 
 induftry fufHcient to collect the ideas of others, and 
 judgment fufHcient to arrange them fkilfully, is the 
 moft likely perfon to acquire a high degree of lite- 
 rary fame : and although, in the opinion of enlight- 
 ened judges, invention forms the chief characteriftic 
 of genius, yet it commonly happens that the objecls 
 of public admiration are men who are much lefs dif- 
 tinguifhed by' this quality, than by extenfive learn- 
 ing and cultivated tafte. Perhaps too, for the muU 
 titude, the latter clafs of authors is the moft ufeful ; 
 as their writings contain the more folid difcoveriea 
 which others have brought to light, feparated from 
 thofe errors with which truth is often blended in the 
 firft formation of a fyftem. 
 
 CHAPTER SEVENTH. 
 
 OF IMAGINATION- 
 SECTION I. 
 
 Analyjis of Imagination. 
 
 IN attempting to draw the line between Concep- 
 tion and Imagination, I have already obferved, that 
 the province of the former is to prefent us with an 
 exact tranfcript of what we have formerly felt ancl 
 
Of THE HUMAN MIND. 421 
 
 perceived ; that of the latter, to make a feledion of 
 qualities and of circum fiances from a variety of dif- 
 ferent objecls, and by combining and difpofing thefe^ 
 to form a new creation of its own. 
 
 According to the definitions adopted, in general, 
 by modern philofophers, the province of imagina- 
 tion would appear to be limited to objedls of light, 
 '' It is the fenfe of fight," (fays Mr. Addifon,; " which 
 " furniflies the Imagination with its ideas ; fo that 
 *^ by the pleafures of Imagination, 1 here mean fuch 
 " as arife from vifible objecls, either when we have 
 " them actually in view, or when we calbup their 
 " ideas into our minds, by paintings, fi;atues, def- 
 " criptions, or any the like occafions. We cannot, 
 " indeed, have a fingle image in the fancy, that did 
 " not make its firft entrance through the fight." 
 Agreeably to the fame view of the fubjeCl, Dr. Reid 
 oblerves, that " Imagination properly fignifies a iive- 
 " ly conception of objecls of fight ; the former pow- 
 ^' er being diflinguifhed from the latter, as a part 
 " from the whole." 
 
 That this limitation of the province of imagination 
 to one particular clafs of our perceptions is altogeth- 
 er arbitrary, feems to me to be evident ; for, al- 
 though the greater part of the materials which Im- 
 agination combines be fupplied by this fenfe, it is nev- 
 erthelefs indifputable, that our other perceptive fac- 
 ulties alfo contribute occafionally their lliare. How 
 many pleafing images have been borrowed from the 
 fragrance of the fields and the melody of the groves j 
 not to mention that filler art, whole magical influ- 
 ence over the human frame, it has been, in all ages, 
 the highefl boafl of poetry to celebrate ! In the fol- 
 lowing paflagc, even the more grofs fenfations of 
 Tafle form the llibjedl of an ideal repalt, on which 
 it is impofiible not to dwell with fome complacency ; 
 particularly after a perufal of the preceding lines, in 
 which the Poet defcribes ** the wonders of the Tor- 
 rid Zone." 
 
422 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Bear me, Pomona ! to thy citron groves ; 
 To where the lemon and the piercing lime, 
 With the deep orange, glowing thro' 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, otretch'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 Baccus pours ! Nor, on its slender twigs 
 Low bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd j 
 Nor, creeping thro' the woods, the geUd race 
 Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells 
 Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp. 
 Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride 
 Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er 
 The Poets imag'd in the golden age ; 
 (iuick let me strip thee of thy spiny coat, 
 Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove !* 
 
 What an affemblage of other conceptions, differ- 
 ent from all thofe hitherto mentioned, has the^ gen- 
 ius of Virgil coiiibined in one diftich ! 
 
 Hie gelidi fontes, hie mollia prata, Lycori, 
 Hie nemus : hie ipso tecum consumerer aBVO. 
 
 Thefe obfervations are fufficient to fhow, how in- 
 adequate A notion of the province of Imagination 
 (conlidered even in its reference to the fenfible 
 world) is conveyed by the definitions of Mr. Addifon 
 and of Dr. Reid. — But the fenfible world, it mufi: be 
 remembered, is not the only field where Imagination 
 exerts her powers. All the objeds of human knowl- 
 edge fupply materials to her forming hand ; diver- 
 fifying infinitely the works fhe produces, while the 
 mode of her operation remains effentially uniform. 
 "As it is the fame power of Reafoning which enables 
 US to carry on our inve (ligations with refpecl to in- 
 dividual objeds, and with refpecl to claffes or gene- 
 ra ; fo it was by the fame proceiTes of analyfis and 
 
 * Thprason's Summer. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 423 
 
 Combination, that the genius of Milton produ- 
 ced the Garden of Eden ; that of Harrington, the 
 Commonwealth of Qceana ; and that of Shakefpeare, 
 the charaders of Hamlet and Falfiaff. '1 he difTer- 
 ence between thefe feveral efforts of invention, coa- 
 fifts only in the manner in which the original mate- 
 rials were acquired ; as far as the power of Imagin- 
 ation is concerned, the procefles are perfedly analo- 
 gous. 
 
 The attempts of Mr. Addifon and of Dr. Reid to 
 limit the province of Imagination to objeds of fight, 
 have plainly proceeded from a very important facl, 
 which it may be worth while to illuflrate more par- 
 ticularly ; — That the mind has a greater facility, 
 and, of confequence, a greater delight in recalling 
 the perceptions of this fenfe than thofe of any of the 
 others ; while at the fame time, the variety of qual- 
 ities perceived by it is incomparably greater. It is 
 this fenfe, accordingly, which fupplies the painter and 
 the ftatuary with all the fubjecls on which their gen- 
 ius is exercifed ; and which furnifhes to the defcrip- 
 tive poet the largefl and the mofl: valuable portion 
 of the materials which he combines. In that abfurd 
 fpecies of profe compofition, too, which borders on 
 poetry, nothing is more remarkable than the pre- 
 dominance of phrafes that recal to the memory, 
 glaring colours, and thofe fplendid appearances of 
 nature, which make a ftrong impreflion on the eye. 
 It has been mentioned by different writers, as a char- 
 acleriftical circumftance in the Oriental or Afiatic 
 ftyle, that the greater part of the m.etaphors are ta- 
 ken from the celeftial luminaries. " The Works of 
 " the Perfians," (fays M. de Voltaire,) " are like th*. 
 " titles of their kings, in which we are perpetually 
 *' dazzled with the lun and the moon.'* Sir WiK 
 liam Jones, in a fhort Eflay on the Poetry of Eaflern 
 Nations, has endeavored to fliew, that this is not 
 owing to the bad tafle of the Afialics, but to the old 
 
424. ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHV 
 
 language and popular religion of their country. 
 But the truth is, that the very fame criticifm will be 
 found to apply to the juvenile productions of every 
 author pofleil'ed of a warm imagination ; and to the 
 compofitions of every people among whom a culti- 
 vated and philofophical tafle has not eftablilhed a 
 fufficiently marked diftinclion between the appropri- 
 ate ftyles of poetry and of profe. The account giv- 
 en by the Abbe Girard of the meaning of the Vv'ord 
 Phebus, as employed by the French critics, confirms 
 Urongly this obfervation. " Le Phebus a un briilant 
 '• qui iignifie, ou femble fignifier quelque chofe : le 
 " foleil y entre d'ordinaire ; & c'eil peut-etre ce qui, 
 *' en notre langue, a donne lieu au nom de Phe- 
 
 Agreeably to thefe principles. Gray, in defcribing 
 the infantine reveries of poetical genius, has fixed, 
 with exquillte judgment, on this clafs 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 thefe remarks it may be eafily nnderflood, 
 why the word huagination, in its moft ordinary ac- 
 ceptation, Ihould be applied to cafes where our con- 
 ception's are derived from the fenfe of fight ; although 
 the province of this power be, in fa6l, as unlimited 
 as the fphere of human enjoyment and of human 
 thought. Hence, the origin of thefe partial defini- 
 tions which I have been attempting to correct ; and 
 hence too, the origin of the word Lnagimiion ; the 
 etymology of which implies manifeftly a reference 
 to vifible objecls. 
 
 i To all the various modes in which Imagination 
 •may difplay itfelf, the greater part of the memarks 
 
 * Synonymes Francois. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 425 
 
 tontained in this Chapter will be found to apply, 
 under proper limitations ; but, in order to render 
 the fubject more obvious to the reader's examina- 
 tion, I fhall, in the farther profecution of it, endeav- 
 or to convey my ideas, rather by means of particu- 
 lar examples, than in the form of general principles ; 
 leaving it to his own judgment to determine, with 
 what modifications the conciuiions to which we are 
 led, may be extended jio other combinations of cir- 
 cumdances. 
 
 Among the innumerable phenomena which this 
 part of our conftitution prefents to our examination, 
 the combinations which the mind forms out of ma- 
 terials fupplied by the power of Conception recom- 
 mend themfelves ftrongly, both by their fimplicity, 
 and by the interefting nature of the difcuflions to 
 which they lead. I fliall avail myfelf, therefore, as 
 much as poflible, in the following enquiries, of w^hat- 
 ever iliuftrations I am able to borrow from the arts 
 of Poetry and of Painting ; the operations of Imagi- 
 nation in thefe arts furnifhing the moil intelligible 
 and pleafing exemplifications of the intelledlual pro- 
 cefles, by which, in thofe analogous but lefs pal- 
 pable inftances that fall under the confideration of 
 the Moraliit, the mind deviates from the models pre- 
 fented to it by experience, and forms to itfelf, new 
 and untried objects of purfuit. It is in confequence 
 of fuch proceffes (which, how little foever they n}ay 
 be attended to, are habitually pafling in the thoughts 
 of all men,) that huoian affairs exhibit lo bufy and 
 fo various a fcene ; tending, in one cafe, to improve- 
 ment, and, in another, to decline ; according as our 
 notions of excellence and of happinefs are jull or er- 
 roneous. 
 
 It was obferved, in a former part of this work, 
 that Imagination is a complex power.* It includes 
 
 *See page 123, 
 FFf 
 
426 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 Conception or fimple Apprehenfion, which enables 
 us to form a notion of thofe former objeds of per- 
 ception or of knowledge, out of which we are to 
 make a feleftion ; Abitraclion, which feparates the 
 fele^ed materials from the qualities and circumllan- 
 ces which are connected w^ith them in nature ; and 
 Judgment or Tafte, which feleds the materials, and 
 directs their combination. To thefe powders, we 
 may add, that particular habit of affociation to which 
 I formerly gave the name of Fancy ; as it is this 
 which prefects to our choice, ail the different mate- 
 rials which are fubfervient to the efforts of Imagin- 
 ation, and which may therefore be confidered as 
 forming the groundwork of poetical genius. 
 
 To illuflrate thefe obfervations, let us confider the 
 Heps by which Milton muft have proceeded in crea- 
 ting his imaginary Garden of Eden. When he firft 
 propofed to himfelf that fubje61: of defcription, it is 
 reafonable to fuppofe, that a variety of the moil 
 ftriking fcenes which he had feen crowded into his 
 mind. The Affociation of Ideas fuggefled them, 
 and the pow^er of conception placed t ach of them 
 before him with all its beauties and imperfedions. 
 In every natural fcene, if we delline it for any par- 
 ticular purpofe, there are defeds and redundancies, 
 which art may lometimes, but cannot always, cor- 
 rect. But the power of Imagination is unlimited. 
 She can create and annihilate ; and difpofe, at plea- 
 fure, her woods, her rocks, and her rivers. Milton, 
 accordingly, would not copy his Eden from any one 
 fcene, but would felecl from each the features which 
 were moil eminently beautiful. The power of ab- 
 flraclion enabled him to make the feparation, and 
 Tafte directed him in the felection. Thus he was 
 furniilied with his materials ; by a fkilful combina- 
 tion of which, he has created a iandfcape, more per- 
 fe6t probably in all its parts, than was ever realifed 
 in nature j and certainly very different from any 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 42? 
 
 thing which this country exhibited, at the period 
 when he wrote. It is a curious remark of Mr. Wal- 
 pole, that Milton's Eden is free from the defects 
 of the old Englifli garden, and is imagined on the 
 fame principles which it was referved for the prefent 
 age to carry into execution. 
 
 From what has been faid, it is fufEciently evident, 
 that Imagination is not a fimple power of the mind, 
 like Attention, Conception, or Abftraction ; but 
 that it is formed by a combination of various facul- 
 ties. It is farther evident, that it muft appear un- 
 der very different forms, in the cafe of different 
 individuals ; as fome of its component parts 
 are liable to be greatly influenced by habit, and 
 other accidental circumflances. The variety, for 
 example, of the materials out of which the com- 
 binations of the Poet or the Painter are formed, 
 will depend much on the tendency of external fitu- 
 ation, to ftore the mind with a multiplicity of Con- 
 ceptions ; and the beauty of thefe combinations will 
 depend entirely on the fuccefs with which the pow- 
 er of Tafte has been cultivated. What we call, 
 therefore, the power of Imagination, is not the gift 
 of nature, but the refult of acquired habits, aided by 
 favorable circumftances. It is not an original en- 
 dowment of the mind, but an accomplifhment form- 
 ed by experience and (ituation ; and which, in its 
 different gradations, fills up all the interval between 
 the firft efforts of uncutored genius, and the fublime 
 creations of Raphael or of Milton. 
 
 An uncommon degree of Imagination conftitutes 
 poetical genius ; a talent which, although chieHy dif- 
 played in poetical compofition, is alfo the foundation 
 (though not precifely in the fame manner) of vari- 
 ous other Arts. A few remarks on the relation 
 which Imagination bears to fome of the moft inter- 
 efting of thefe, will throw additional light on its nar 
 tare and office. 
 
428 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 SECTION 11. 
 
 Of Imagination conftdered in its Relation to fonie of the 
 Fine Arts, 
 
 AMONG the Arts connefled with Imagination, 
 fome not only take their rife from this power, but 
 produce objeds which are addrelled to it Others 
 take their rife from Imagination, but produce objects 
 which are addreifed to the power of Perception. 
 
 To the latter of thefe two claiTes of Arts, belongs 
 that of Gardening ; or, as it has been lately call- 
 ed, the art of creating Landiicape. In this Art, the 
 defigner is limited in his creation by nature ; and 
 his only province is to correct, to improve, and to 
 adorn. As he cannot repeat his experiments, in or- 
 ,der to obferve the effect, he muft call up, in his im- 
 agination, the fcene which he means to produce ; 
 and apply to this imaginary fcene his tafte and his 
 judgment^; or, in other words, to a lively concep- 
 tion of vifible objects, he muft add a power (which 
 long experience and attentive obfervation alone can 
 give him) of judging beforehand, of the effect which 
 they would produce, if they were aftually exhibited 
 to his fenfes. This power forms, what Lord Chat- 
 Iiam beautifully and expreffively called, the Prophetic 
 Eye oj Tajle ; that eye which (if I may borrow the 
 language of Mr. Gray) " fees all the beauties that a 
 *' place is fufceptible of, long before they are born ; 
 " and when it plants a feedUng, already fits under 
 " the fhade of it, and enjoys the effect it will have, 
 " from every point of view that lies in the prof- 
 " pe£t."* But although the artift who creates a 
 landfcape, copies it from his imagination, the fcene 
 which he exhibits is addreffed to the fenfes, and may 
 
 * Gray's works, by Ma<;on^ p. 277. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 429 
 
 produce its full effect on the minds of others, with- 
 out any effort on their part, either of imagination 
 or of conception. 
 
 To prevent being mifunderftood, it is neceffary 
 for me to remark, that, in the laft obfervation, I fpeak 
 merely of the natural effects produced by a land- 
 fcape, and abftracl entirely from the pleafure which 
 may refult from an accidental affociation of ideas 
 with a particular fcene. The effect refulting from 
 fuch aifociations will depend, in a great meafure, on 
 the livelinefs with which the affociated objects are 
 conceived, and on the affecting nature of the pict- 
 ures which a creative imagination, when once rouf- 
 ed, will prefent to the mind ; but the pleafures thus 
 arifing from the accidental exercife that a landfcape 
 may give to the imagination, muft not be confoun- 
 ded with thofe which it is naturally fitted to pro- 
 duce. 
 
 In Painting, (excepting in thofe inflances in which 
 it exhibits a faithful copy of a particular object,) the 
 original idea mull: be formed in the imagination : 
 and, in moft cafes, the exercife of imagination mufl 
 concur with perception, before the picture can pro- 
 duce that efted: on the mind of the fpectator which 
 the artill has in view. Painting, therefore, does 
 not belong entirely to either of the two claffes of 
 Arts formerly mentioned, but has fomething in com- 
 mon with them both. 
 
 As far as the Painter aims at copying exactly 
 what he fees, he may be guided mechanically by 
 general rules ; and he requires no aid from that cre- 
 ative genius which is charafteriflical of the Poet. 
 The pleafure, however, which refults from painting, 
 confidcred merely as an imitative art, is extremely 
 trifling ; and is fpecifically different from that which 
 it aims to produce, by awakening the imagination. 
 Even in portrait-painting, the fervile copyift of na- 
 ture is regarded in no higher light than that of a 
 
430 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tradefman. " Deception," (as Reynolds has excel- 
 lently obferved,) " inftead of advancing the art, is 
 *' in reality, carrying it back to its infant ftate. The 
 " firll: eflays of Painting were certainly nothing but 
 *' mere imitations of individual objects ; and when 
 **= this amounted to a deception, the artift had accom- 
 " plifhed his purpofe."* 
 
 When the hiftory or the landfcape Painter indul- 
 ges his genius, in forming new combinations of his 
 own, he vies with the Poet in the nobleft exertion of 
 the poetical art : and he avails himfelf of his profef- 
 fionai Ikiil, as the Poet avails himfelf of language, 
 only to convey the ideas in his mind. To deceive 
 the eye by accurate reprefentations of particular 
 forms, is no longer his aim ; but, by the touches of 
 an expreflive pencil, to fpeak to the imaginations of 
 others. Imitation, therefore, is not the end which 
 he propofes to himfelf, but the means which he em- 
 ploys in order to accomplilh it : nay, if the imita- 
 tion be carried fo far as to preclude all exercife of 
 the fpedator's imagination, it will difappoint, in a 
 great meafure, the purpofe of the artift. 
 
 In Poetry, and in every other fpecies of compofi- 
 tion, in which one perfon attempts, by means of 
 language, to prefent to the mind of another, the ob- 
 jecls of his own imagination ; this power is neceffa- 
 ry, though not in the fame degree, to the author 
 and to the reader. When we perufe a defcription, 
 we naturally feel a difpoiition to form, in our own 
 minds, a diftindl pidure of what is defcribed ; and 
 in proportion to the attention and intereft which the 
 fubjed excites, the pidure becomes fteady and de- 
 terminate. It is fcarcely poflible for us to hear 
 much of a particular town, without forming fome 
 notion of its figure and fize and fituation j and in 
 
 * Notes on Mason's Translation of Fresno-^ 's Poem on the Art 
 of Painting, p. 1 J 4. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 431 
 
 reading hiftory and poetry, I believe it feldom hap- 
 pens, that we do not annex imaginary appearances 
 to the names of our favorite charaders. It is, at 
 the fame time, almoft certain, that the imaginations 
 of no two men coincide upon fuch occaiions ; and, 
 therefore, though both may be pleafed, the agreea- 
 ble imprefHons which they feel, may be widely dif- 
 ferent from each other, according as the pidures by 
 which they are produced are more or lefs happily 
 imagined. Hence it is, that when a perfon accuf- 
 tomed to dramatic reading, fees, for the firfl time, 
 one of his favorite charaders reprefented on the 
 ftage, he is generally diifatisfied with the exhibition, 
 however eminent the ador may be : and if he fhould 
 happen, before this reprefentation, to have been ve- 
 ry familiarly acquainted with the charader, the cafe 
 may continue to be the fame through life. For my 
 own part, I have never received from any Falftaft 
 on the ftage, halt the pleafure which Shakefpeare 
 gives me in the clofet ; "and I am perfuaded, that I 
 Ihould feel fome degree of uneaiinefs, if I were pref- 
 ent at any attempt to perfonate the figure or the 
 voice of Don Quixote or Sancho Panca. It is not 
 always that the ador, on fuch occaiions, falls fhort of 
 our expedation. He difappoints us, by exhibiting 
 fomething different from what our imagination had 
 anticipated, and which confequently appears to us, 
 at the moment, to be an unfaithful reprefentation of 
 the Poet's idea : and until a frequent repetition 
 of the performance has completely obliterated our 
 former impreflions, it is impoffible for us to form an 
 adequate eftimate of its merit. 
 
 Similar obfervations may be applied to other fub- 
 jeds. The fight of any natural fcene, or of any 
 work of art, provided we have not previoufly heard 
 of it, commonly produces a greater effed, at firft, 
 than ever afterwards ; but if in confequence of a de- 
 fcription, we have beep led to form a previous no- 
 
432 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 tion of it, I apprehend, the eiFecl will be found leis 
 pleaiing, the firft time it is feen, than the fecond. 
 Although the defcription fiiould fall fliort greatly of 
 the reality, yet the difappointment which we feel, 
 on meeting with fomething different from what we 
 expected, diminifhes our fatisfaction. The fecond 
 time we fee the fcene, the effect of novelty is indeed 
 lefs than before ; but it is ftill confiderable, and the 
 imagination now anticipates nothing which is not 
 reaiifed in the perception. 
 
 The remarks which have been made, afford a fat- 
 isfaclory reafon why fo few are to be found v/ho 
 have a genuine relifh for the beauties of poetry. 
 The defigns of Kent and of Brown evince in their 
 authors a degree of imagination entirely analogous 
 to that of the defcriptive poet ; but when they are 
 once executed, their beauties (excepting thofe which 
 refult from affociation) meet the eye of every fpec- 
 tator. In poetry the effect is inconfiderable, unlefs 
 upon a mind which poffeffes fome degree of the au- 
 thor's genius ; a mind amply furnifhed, by its pre- 
 vious habits, with the means of interpreting 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 
 w^hich exprefs complex ideas, feldom convey pre- 
 cifely the fame meaning to different individuals, and 
 that hence arifes much of the ambiguity of language. 
 The fame obfervation holds, in no inconfiderable de- 
 gree, with refpedt to the names of fenfible objeiR^s. 
 When the v/ords River, Mountain, Grove, occur in 
 a defcription, a perfon of lively conceptions natur- 
 ally thinks of fome particular river, mountain, and 
 grove, that have made an impreflion on his mind ; 
 and whatever the notions are, which he is led by 
 his imagination to form of thefe objects, they mult 
 neceflarily approach to the ilandard of what he has 
 
OF THE HUMAJr MIND. 433 
 
 feen. Hence it Is evident that, according to the 
 different habits and education of individuals ; accor- 
 ding to the livelinefs of their conceptions, and ac- 
 cording to the creative power of their imaginations, 
 the fame words will produce very different effedi 
 on different minds. When a perfon who has re- 
 ceived his education in the country, reads a defcrip- 
 tion of a rural retirement ; the houfe, the river, the 
 woods, to which he was firft accuftomed, prefent 
 themfelves fpontaneoufly to his conception, accom- 
 panied, perhaps, with the recollection of his early 
 friendihips, and all thofe pleafing ideas which are 
 commonly affociated with the fcenes of childhood 
 and of youth. How different is the effedl of the de- 
 fcription upon his mind, from what it would pro- 
 duce on one who has paffed his tender years at a 
 dittance from the beauties of nature, and whofe in- 
 fant fports are conneded in his memory with the 
 gloomy alleys of a commercial city ! 
 
 But it is not only in interpreting the particular 
 words of a defcription, that the powers of Imagina- 
 tion and Conception are employed. They are far- 
 ther neceffary for filling up the differeat parts of 
 that pidure, of which the moft minute defcriber can 
 only trace the outline. In the beft defcription, 
 there is much left to the reader to fupply j and the 
 efFed which it produces on his mind will depend, in 
 a confiderable degree, on the invention and tafte 
 with which the pidure is finifhed. It is therefore 
 poffible, on the one hand, that the happiefl efforts 
 of poetical genius may be peruied with perfed in- 
 difference by a man c)f found judgment, and not def- 
 titute of natural fenfibility ; and on the other hand, 
 that a cold and commonplace defcription may be 
 the means of awaken. ng, in a rich and glowing im- 
 agination, a degree of enthufiafm unknown to the 
 author. 
 
 Gog 
 
434? ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 All the different arts which I have hitherto men- 
 tioned as taking their rife from the imagination, 
 have this in common, that their primary objeft is to^ 
 pleafe. This oblervation applies to the art of Poet- 
 ry, no lefs than to the others ; nay, it is this circum- 
 ftance which chara6lerifes Poetry, and diftinguiflies 
 it from all the other claffes of literary compofition. 
 The objed of the Philofopher is to inform and en- 
 lighten mankind ; that of the Orator, to acquire an 
 afcendant over the will of others, by bending to his 
 ^ own purpofes their judgments, their imaginations, 
 and their paflions : but the primary and the diftin- 
 guifhing aim of the Poet is to pleafe ; and the princi- 
 pal refource which he poiTeffes for this purpofe, is 
 by addreffing the imagination. Sometimes, indeed, 
 he may feem to encroach on the province of the 
 Philofopher or of the Orator ; but, in thefe inftan- 
 ces, he only borrows from them the means by which 
 he accomplifhes his end. If he attempts to enlight- 
 en and to inform, he addreffes the underftanding 
 only as a vehicle of pleafure : if he makes an appeal 
 to the paflions, it is only to paflions which it is pleaf- 
 ing to indulge. The Philofopher, in like manner, 
 in order to accomplifh his end of inflruc^ion, may 
 find it expedient, occafionally, to amufe the imagin* 
 ation, or to make an appeal to the paflions : the Or- 
 ator may, at one time, ilate to his hearers a procefs 
 of reafoning ; at another, a calm narrative of facls ; 
 and, at a third, he may give the reins to poetical fan- 
 cy. But flill the ultimate end of the Philofopher is 
 to inflrud, and of the Orator to perfuade ; and w^hat- 
 ever means they make ufe oif, which are not fubfer- 
 vient to this purpofe, are out of place, and obflruct 
 the effect of their labors. 
 
 The meafured compofition in which the Poet ex- 
 preffes himfelf, is only one of the means which he 
 employs to pleafe. As the delight which he con- 
 veys to the imagination, is heightened by the other 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 435 
 
 agreeable impreffions which he can unite in the 
 mind at the fame time ; he lludies to beftow, upon 
 the medium of communication which he employs, 
 all the various beauties of which it is fufceptible. 
 i^mong thefe beauties, the harmony of numbers is 
 not the leaft powerful ; for its effed is conflant, 
 and does not interfere with any of the other pleaf- 
 ures which language produces. A fuccdiion of a- 
 greeable perceptions 'is kept up by the organical ef- 
 fect of words upon the ear ; while they inform the 
 underftanding by their pcrfpicuity and precifion, or 
 pleafe the imagination by the pictures they fuggeft, 
 or touch the heart by the aflbciations they awaken. 
 Of all thefe charms of language, the Poet may avail 
 himfelf ; and they are all (6 many inllruments of his 
 art. To the Philofopher and the Orator they may 
 Gccafionally be of ufe ; and to both they muft be con- 
 fiantly fo far an objed of attention, that nothing may 
 occur in their compofitions, which may diftrad the 
 thoughts, by offending either the ear or the tafte ; 
 but the Poet muft fiot reft fatisfied with this nega- 
 tive praife. Pleafure is the end of his art ; and the 
 more numerous the fources 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 fubfervient to our happinefs, is a fource of 
 pleafure, when prefented to our conceptions, and 
 may fometimes derive from the heightenings of im- 
 agination, a momentary charm, which we exchange 
 with reludance for the fubftantial gratifications of 
 the fenfes. The province of the painter, and of the 
 flatuary, is confined to the imitation of vifible objeds 
 and to the exhibition of fuch intellectual and moral 
 qualities, as the human body is fitted to exprefs. In 
 ornamental architecture, and in ornamental garden- 
 ing, the fole aim of the artift is to give pleafure to 
 
436 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 the eye, by the beauty or fublimity of material forms. 
 But to the poet all the glories of external nature ; 
 all that is amiable or interefting, or refpe£lable in 
 human charader ; all that excites and engages our 
 benevolent afFe(5lions : all thofe truths which make 
 the heart feel itfelf better and more happy ; all 
 thefe fupply materials, out of which he forms and 
 peoples a world of his own, where no inconvenien* 
 ces damp our enjoyments, and where no clouds dar- 
 ken our profpects. 
 
 That the pleafuresof poetry arife chiefly from the 
 agreeable feelings which it conveys to the mind, by 
 awakening the imagination, is a propofition which 
 may feem too obvious to ftand in need of proof. As 
 tke ingenious Inquirer, however, into " The Origin 
 of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful," has dif- 
 puted the common notions upon this fubjed:, I fhall 
 conlider fome of the principal arguments by which 
 he has fupported his opinion 
 
 The leading principle of the theory which I am 
 now to examine is, " That the common efFecl of po- 
 " etry is not to raife ideas of things ;" or, as I would 
 rather chufe to exprefs it, its common effed is not 
 to give exercife to the powers of conception and im- 
 agination. That I may not be accufed of mifrepre- 
 fentation, I fhall ftate the doclrine at length in the 
 words of the author. " If words have all their pof- 
 " fible extent of power, three effecls arife in the 
 " mind of the hearer. The firft is the found ; the 
 " fecond, the pidure, or reprefentation of the thing 
 " lignified by the found ; the third is, the offeBion 
 *' of the foul produced by one or by both of the fore- 
 " going. Compounded abftrad: words, {^honor, juf- 
 " tice, liberty, and the like,) produce the firit and 
 " the lafl of thefe effects, bu^ not the fecond. Sim- 
 " pie abilracts are uied to fignify fome one fmiple 
 '* idea, without much adverting to others which 
 ** may chance to attend it ; as blue, green, hot, cold^ 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4S7 
 
 " and the like : thefe are capable of efFeding all 
 ^' three of the purpofes of words ; as the aggregate 
 *' words, man, caftle, horfe, &c. are in a yet higher 
 " degree. But I am of opinion, that the rnoft 
 " general effed even of thefe words, does not arife 
 " from their forming pictures of the feveral things 
 « they would reprefent in the imagination ; be- 
 " caufe, on a very diligent examination of my 
 « own mind, and getting others to coniider theirs, 
 « I do not find that once in twenty times any 
 « fuch pidlure is formed ; and when it is, there is 
 <« moil: commonly a particular effort of the imagina- 
 <« tion for that purpofe. But the aggregate words 
 <« operate, as I faid of the compound abftracts, not 
 « by prefenting any image to the mind, but by hav- 
 <« ing from ufe the fame effect on being mentioned, 
 « that their original has when it is feen. Suppofe 
 <« we were to treat a paiTage to this efFedt : " The 
 « river Danube rifes in a moift and mountainous 
 « foil in the heart of Germany, where, winding to 
 « and fro, it waters feveral principalities, until turn- 
 «« ing into Auftria, and leaving the walls of Vienna, 
 « it paiTes into Hungary ; there with a vaft flood, 
 «« augmented by the Saave and the Drave, it quits 
 <« Chriftendom, and rolling through the barbarous 
 " countries which border on Tartary, it enters by 
 <« many mouths into the Black Sea." In this defcrip- 
 <« tion many things are mentioned ; as mountains, 
 '« rivers, cities, the fea, &c. But let any body exam- 
 <« ine himfclf, and fee whether he has had imprelTed 
 «' on his imagination any pictures of a n^er, moun- 
 <« tain, watery foil, Germany, &c. Indeed, it is impof- 
 <* fible, in the rapidity and quick fuccefllon of words 
 " in converfation, to have ideas both of the found of 
 " the word, and of the thing reprefented ; befides, 
 " fome words exprefling real effences, are fo mixed 
 " with others of a general and nominal import that 
 *' it is impracticable to jump from fenfe to thought, 
 
438 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 " from particulars to generals, from things to words, 
 *' in fuch a manner as to anfwer the purpofes of life ; 
 " nor is it neceffary that we fhould." 
 
 In farther confirmation of this dodlrine, Mr. Burke 
 refers to the poetical works of the late amiable and 
 ing;enious Dr. Blacklock " Here^^ fays he, " is a< 
 '' poet^ doubt lefs as much affeSled by his own defrriptionsy 
 ^^ as any that reads them can be ; and yet he is affected 
 " with this ftrong enthufiafm, by things of which he 
 " neither has, nor can pofllbly have, any idea, far- 
 " ther than that of a bare found ; and why may not 
 *' thofe who read his works be affedled in the fame 
 " manner that he was, with as little of any real ideas 
 " of the things deCcribed." 
 
 Before I proceed to make any remarks on thefe 
 palTages, I muft obferve in general, that I perfeclly 
 agree with Mr. Burke, in thinking that a very great 
 proportion of the words which we habitually em- 
 ploy, have no effect to " raife ideas in the mind ;'* 
 or to exercife the powers of conception and imagin- 
 ation. My notions on this fubjed: I have already 
 fufHciently explained in treating of Abflradion. 
 
 I agree with him farther, that a great proportion 
 of the words which are ufed in poetry and eloquence, 
 produce very powerful effecfls on the mind, by ex- 
 citing emotions which we have been accuftomed to 
 affociate with particular founds j without leading 
 the imagination to form to itfelf any pidures or rep- 
 refentations ; and his account of the manner in 
 which fuch words operate, appears to me fatisfadtory. 
 " Such words are in reality but mere founds ; but 
 " they are founds, which, being ufed on particular 
 ." occafions, wherein we receive feme good, or fuf- 
 " fer fome evil ; or fee others affected with good or 
 " evil ; or which we hear applied to other intereft- 
 " ing things or events ; and being applied in fuch 
 " a variety of cafes, that we know readily by habit 
 " to what things they belong, they produce in the 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 4S9 
 
 " mind, whenever they are afterwards mentioned, 
 " eiFeds limilar to thofe of their occafioras. The 
 " founds being often ufed without reference to any 
 " particular occaiion, and carrying ftill their firft im- 
 " preflions, they at laft utterly lofe their connection 
 " with the particular occafions that gave rife to 
 " them ; yet the found, without any annexed no- 
 " tion, continues to operate as before." 
 
 Notwithftanding, however, thefe conceflions, I 
 cannot admit that it is in this way poetry produces 
 its principal effect. Whence is it that general and 
 abftradl expreffions are fo tame and lifelefs, in com- 
 parifon of thofe which are particular and figurative ? 
 Is it not becaufe the former do not give any exer- 
 cife to the imagination, like the latter ? Whence the 
 diftindion, acknowledged by all critics, ancient and 
 modern, between that charm of words which evapo- 
 rates in the procefs of tranflation, and thofa perma- 
 nent beauties, which prefenting to the mind the dif- 
 tindlnefs of a picture, may impart pleafure to the 
 moft remote regions and ages ? Is it not, that in the 
 one cafe, the Poet addrefl'es himfelf to affociations 
 which are local and temporary ; in the other, to 
 thofe effential principles of human nature, from 
 which Poetry and painting derive their common at- 
 tractions ? Hence, among the various fources of the 
 fublime, the peculiar ftrefs laid by Longinus on 
 
 what he calls ViJlOns^ QS?ixvToiaitxi'^ orav a. ^£7*3?, tu' £v$&t'cr<a<3-- 
 
 In treating of abftraction I formerly remarked, 
 that the perfection of philofophical ftyle is to ap- 
 proach as nearly as poflible to that fpecies of language 
 we employ in algebra, and to exclude every expref- 
 iion which has a tendency to divert the attention by 
 
 * Dc Sublim. § xv. — Quas (pxirxaixs Graeci vccant, nos sane 
 Vis'iones appellamus ; per quas imagines rerum absentiiim ita re- 
 praesentantur animo, ut eas cernere ocuiis ac praesentes habeie vi- 
 deamur, QuI^CT. Inst. Orat. vi. 2. 
 
440 ELEMENTS OF THB PHILOSOPHY 
 
 exciting the imagination, or to bias the judgment 
 by cafual aflociations. For this purpofe the Philof- 
 opher ought to be fparing in the employment of 
 figurative words, and to convey his notions by gen- 
 eral terms which have been accurately defined. To 
 the Orator, on the other hand, when he wifhes to 
 prevent the cool exercife of the underilanding, it 
 may, on the fame account, be frequently ufed to de- 
 light or to agitate his hearers, by blending with his 
 reafonings the illufions of poetry, or the magical in- 
 fluence of founds confecrated by popular feelings* 
 A regard to the different ends thus aimed at in Phi- 
 lofophical and in Rhetorical compofition, renders the 
 ornaments which are fo becoming in the one, incon- 
 fiftent with good tafl:e and good fenfe, when adopted 
 in the other. 
 
 In Poetry, as truth and facls are introduced, not 
 for the purpofe of information, but to convey plea- 
 fure to the mind, nothing offends more, than thofe 
 general expreflions which form the great inftrument 
 of philofophical reafoning. The original pleafures, 
 which it is the aim of poetry to recal to the mind, 
 are all derived from individual objedls ; and, of con- 
 fequence, (with a very few exceptions, which it 
 does not belong to my prefent fubjecl:s to enume- 
 rate,) the more particular, and the more appropria- 
 ted its language is, the greater will be the charm it 
 pofTefies. 
 
 With refpecl to the defcription of the courfe of the 
 Danube already quoted, I fhall not difpute the rcfult 
 of the experiment to be as the author reprefents it. 
 That words may often be applied to their proper 
 purpofes, without our annexing any particular 
 notions to them, I have formerly fiiewn at great 
 length ; and 1 admit that the meaning of this defcrip- 
 tion may be fo underftood. But to be underilood, 
 is not the fole object of the poet ; his primary object 
 is to pleaie ; and the pleafure which he conveys will. 
 
OF THE HUMAN kiND. 441 
 
 in general be found to be proportioned to the beau- 
 ty and livelinefs of the images which he fuggefts. In 
 the cafe of a poet born blind, the effect of poetry 
 muft depend on other caufes ; but whatever opinion 
 we may form on this point, it appears to me impof- 
 lible, that fuch a poet ftiould receive, even from his 
 own defcriptions, the fame degree of pleafure which 
 they may convey to a reader, who is capable of con- 
 ceiving the fcenes which are defcribed. Indeed this 
 inftance which Mr. Burke produces in fupport of 
 his theory, is fufficient of itfelf to ihew, that the the- 
 ory cannot be true in the extent in which it is 
 Hated. 
 
 By way of contrail to the defcription of the Dan- 
 ube, I {hall quote a ftanza from Gray, which affords 
 a very beautiful example of the two different effects 
 of poetical expreflion. The pleafure conveyed by 
 the two lall lines refolves almofl entirely into Mr. 
 Burke's principles ; but, great as this pleafure is, 
 how inconiiderable is it in comparifon of that arifing 
 from the continued and varied exercife which the 
 preceding lines give to the imagination ? 
 
 " In clinaes beyonci the solar road, 
 ♦* Where shaggy forms o'er ice-built mountains roam« 
 " The muse has broke the twilight-gloom, 
 " To cheer the shiv'ring natives' 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 effedt of the 
 
 folemn and uniform flow of the verfe in this exquif- 
 
 ite ftanza, in retarding the pronunciation of the 
 
 reader j fo as to arreft his attention to every fuccef- 
 
 Hnh 
 
442 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 five picture, till it has time to produce its proper 
 impreilion. More of the charm of poetical rythm 
 arifes from this circumftance, than is commonly im- 
 agined. 
 
 To thofe who wifli to fludy the theory of poetical 
 expreflion, no author in our language affords a rich- 
 er variety of illutirations than the poet laft quoted. 
 His merits, in many other refpects, are great ; but 
 his fkill in this particular is more peculiarly confpic- 
 uous. How much he had made the principles of 
 this branch of his art an object of iludy, appears 
 from his letters publiihed by Mr. Mafon. 
 
 I have fometimes thought, that, in the laft line of 
 the following paffage, he had in view the two dif- 
 erent effects of words already defcribed ; the efFedk 
 of fome, in awakening the powers of Conceptioa 
 and Imagination ; and that of others, in exciting 
 affociated 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 fame Subject, —^Relation of Imaging" 
 tion and of Tafte to Genius. ^ 
 
 FROM the remarks made in the foregoing Sec- 
 tions, it is obvious, in what manner a perfon accuf- 
 tomed to analyfe and combine his conceptions, may 
 acquire an- idea of beauties fuperior to any which he 
 has feen realifed. It may alfo be eafily inferred, 
 that a habit of forming fuch intelledual combinations, 
 and of remarking their effects on our own minds, 
 muft contribute to refine and to exalt the Tafte, 
 to a degree which it never can attain in thofe men> 
 
OF THE HUMAN MINO. 443 
 
 who ftudy to improve it by the obfervation and 
 comparifon of external objects only. 
 
 A cultivated Talle, cotnbined with a creative Im- 
 agination, conftitutes Genius in the Fine Arts. 
 Without tafte, imagination could produce only a 
 random analyfis and combination of our conceptions; 
 and without imagination, talte would be deftitute 
 of the faculty of invention. Thefe two ingredients 
 of genius may be mixed together in all poiiible pro- 
 portions ; and where either is poffefi'ed in a degree 
 remarkably exceeding what falls to the ordinary 
 ihare of mankind, it may compenfate in fome meaf- 
 ufe ior a deficiency in the other. An uncommonly 
 corred tafte, with little imagination, if it does not 
 produce works which excite admiration, produces 
 at leaft nothing which can offend. An uncommon 
 fertility of imagination, even when it offends, excites 
 our wonder by i's creative power ; and fhews what 
 i-t could have performed, had its exertions been gui- 
 ded by a more perfe<5l: model. 
 
 In the infancy of the Arts, an union of thefe two 
 powers in the fame mind is necelTary for the pro- 
 duction of every work of genius. Tafte, without 
 imagination, is, in fuch a fituation, impoflible ; for^ 
 as there are no monuments of antient genius on 
 which it can be formed, it muft be the reiult of ex- 
 periments, which nothing but the imagination of 
 every individual can enable him to make. Such a 
 tafte muft neceffarily be imperfed^ in confequence 
 of the limited experience of which it is the refult ; 
 but, without imagination, it could not have been ac- 
 quired even in this imperfecl degree. 
 
 In the progrefs of the Arts the cafe comiCS to be 
 altered. The produdions of genius accumulate to 
 fuch an extent, that tafte may be formed by a care- 
 ful ftudy of the works of others ; and as formerly 
 imagination had ferved as a neceffary foundation for 
 l:afte, fo tafte begins now to invade the province of 
 
444< ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 imagination. The combinations which the latter 
 faculty has been employed in making, during a long 
 fucceflion of ages, approach to infinity ; and prefent 
 fuch ample materials to a judicious feleclion, that 
 with a high ftandard of excellence, continually pre- 
 fent to the thoughts, induftry, affifted by the moft 
 moderate degree of imagination, will, in time, pro- 
 duce performances, not only more free from faults, 
 but incomparably more powerful in their efifects, 
 than the moil origiiiai efforts of untutored genius, 
 which, guided by an uncultivated tafte, copies after 
 an" inferior model of perfedion. What Reynolds 
 obferves of Painting, may be applied to all the other 
 Fine Arts ; that, '^ as the Painter, by bringing togeth- 
 *' er in one piece, thofe beauties, which are difperfed 
 *' amongft a great variety of individuals, produces a 
 *' figure more beautiful than can be found in nature ; 
 '' fo that artift who can unite in himfelf the excel- 
 *^ lencies of the various painters, will approach near- 
 *' er to perfeftion than any of his mailers,'** 
 
 SECTION IV. 
 
 Of ike Influence of Imagination on Human Chara^er and 
 Happinefs. 
 
 HITHERTO we have confidered the power of 
 Imagination chiefly as it is connected with the Fine 
 Arts. But it deferves our attention flill more, on 
 account of its extenfive influence on human charac- 
 ter and happinefs. 
 
 The lower animals, as far as we are able to judge, 
 are entirely occupied with the objects of their pref- 
 ent perceptions : and the cafe is nearly the fame 
 with the inferior orders of our own Ipecies. One 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 445 
 
 of the principal efFeds which a Hberal education pro- 
 duces on the mind, is to accullom us to withdraw 
 our attention from the objects of fenfe, and to di- 
 red: it, at pleafure, to thofe intellectual combiaations 
 which delight the imagination. Even, however, a- 
 mong men of cultivated underftandings, this faculty- 
 is pofTeiTed in very unequal degrees by different in- 
 dividuals ; and thefe differences (whether refulting 
 from original conilitution or from early education) 
 lay the foundation of fome llriking varieties in hu- 
 man character. 
 
 What we commonly call fenfibility, depends, in a 
 great raeafure, on the power of imagination. Point 
 out to two men, any objecl of compaflion ; — a man, 
 for example, reduced by misfortune from eafy cir- 
 cumflances to indigence. The one feels merely in 
 proportion to what he perceives by his fenfes. The 
 other follows, in imagination, the unfortunate man 
 to his dwelling, and partakes with him and his fam- 
 ily in their domeftic diftrefles. He liftens to their 
 converfation, while they recal to remembrance the 
 flattering profpects they once indulged ; the circle of 
 friends they had been forced to leave ; the liberal 
 plans of education which were begun and interrupt- 
 ed ; and pictures out to himfelf all the various re- 
 fources which dehcacy and pride fuggeft, to conceal 
 poverty from the world. As he proceeds in paint- 
 ing, his fenfibility increafes, and he weeps, not for 
 what he fees, but for what he imagines. It will be 
 faid, that it was his fenfibility which originally rouf- 
 ed his imagination ; and the obfervation is undoubt- 
 edly true ; but it is equally evident, on the other 
 hand, that the warmth of his imagination increafes 
 and prolongs his fenfibility. 
 
 This is beautifully illuftrated in the Sentimental 
 Journey of Sterne, While engaged in a train of re- 
 fle^fions on the State Prifons in France, the acciden- 
 tal fight of a flarling in a cage fuggefls to him the 
 
4^6 ELEMENTS OF THE PHItOSOPHY • 
 
 idea of a captive in his dungeon. He indulges lii^ 
 imagination, " and looks through the twilight of the 
 " grated door to take the pidture." 
 
 '" I beheld/' (fays he,) '^ his body half-wafted a- 
 ** way with long expedation and confinement, and 
 '* felt what kind of ficknefs of the heart it is, which 
 *' arifes from hope deferred. Upon looking nearer, 
 " I faw him pale and feverifli ; in thirty years the 
 *' wertern breeze had not once fanned his blood : he 
 *' had feen no fun, no moon, in all that time, nor had 
 *' the voice of friend or kinfman breathed through 
 
 *' his lattice. His children But here my heart 
 
 *' began to bleed, and I was forced to go on with an- 
 *' other part of the portrait. 
 
 " He was fitting upon the ground, in the fartheft 
 " corner of his dungeon, on a little ftraw, which 
 " was alternately his chair and bed : a little calen-^ 
 " der of fmall fl:icks was laid at the head, notched all 
 " over with the difmal days and nights he had paf- 
 " fed there : — he had one of thefe little fiicks in his 
 ** hand and with a rufl:y nail he was etching another 
 *' day of mifery to add to the heap. As I darkened 
 ** the little light he had, he lifted up a hopelefs eye 
 *^ towards the door, then caft it down — {hook his 
 *' head, and went on with his work of afEidion." 
 
 The foregoing obfervations may account, in part, 
 for the efFed: which exhibitions of fiftiiious difirefs 
 produce on fome perfons, who do not difcover much 
 fenfibility to the difiireifes of real life« In a Novel, 
 or a Tragedy, the pidure is completely finiflied in all 
 its parts ; and we are made acquainted not only 
 with every circumfliance on which the difi:refs turns, 
 but with the fentiments and feelings of every char- 
 acter with refjped to his fituation. In real life we 
 fee, in general, only detached fcenes of the Tragedy ; 
 and the impreflion is flight, unlefs imagination fin- 
 iflies the charaders, and fupplies the incidents that 
 are wanting. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 447 
 
 it is not only to fcenes of diftrefs that imagina- 
 tion increafes our fenfibility. It gives us a doub- 
 le ihare in the profperity of others, and enables us 
 to partake, with a more lively interefl, in every for- 
 tunate incident that occurs either to individuals or 
 to communities. Even from the productions of the 
 earth, and the viciflitudes of the year, it carries for- 
 ward our thoughts to the enjoyments they bring 
 to the fenfitive creation, and by interefling our be- 
 nevolent affections in the fcenes we behold, lends a 
 new charm to the beauties of nature. 
 
 I have often been inclined to think that the appa- 
 rent coldnefs and felfifhnefs of mankind may be tra- 
 ced, in a great meafure, to a want of attention and a 
 want of imagination. In the cafe of misfortunes 
 which happen to ourfelves, or to our near connec- 
 tions, neither of thefe powers is neceffary to make us 
 acquainted with our fituation ; fo that we feel, of 
 neceflity, the correfpondent emotions. But without 
 an uncommon degree of both, it is impoffible for 
 any man to comprehend completely the fituation of 
 his neighbor, or to have an idea of a great part of 
 the diflrefs which exifls in the world. If we feel 
 therefore more for ourfelves than for others, the dif- 
 ference is to be afcribed, at leaft partly, to this ; that, 
 in the former cafe, the fa^s which are the founda- 
 tion of our feelings, are more fully before us than 
 they poflibly can be in the latter. 
 
 In order to prevent mifapprehenfions of my mean- 
 ing, it is neceffary for me to add, that I do not mean 
 to deny that it is a law of our nature, in cafes in 
 which there is an interference between our own in- 
 tereft and that of other men, to give a certain degree 
 of preference to ourfelves ; even fuppofmg our 
 neighbor's fituation to be as completely known to us 
 as our own. I only affirm, that, where this prefer- 
 ence becomes blameable and unjuff, the effect is to 
 
44B ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 be accounted for partly in the way I mentioned.* 
 One ilriking proof of this is, the powerful emo'ions 
 which may be occafionally excited in the minds of 
 the moil callous, when the attention has once been 
 fixed, and the imagination awakened, by eloquent 
 and circumftantial and pathetic defcription. 
 
 A very amiable and profound moralift in the ac- 
 count which he has given of the origin of our fjnfe 
 of juftice, has, I think, drawn a lefs pleafing pidure 
 of the natural conftitution of the human mind, than 
 is agreeable to truth. " To difturb," (fays he,) 
 '^ the happinefs of our neighbor, merely becaufe it 
 *' ftands in the way of our own ; to take from him 
 *' what is of real ufe to him, merely becaufe it may be 
 " of equal or of more ufe to us ; or, to indulge, in this 
 " manner, at the expence of other people^ the nat- 
 *' ural preference which every man has for his own 
 *' happinefs above that of other people, is what no 
 '« impartial fpeclator can go along with. Every man 
 " is, no doubt, firft and principally recommended to 
 '' his own care ; and as he is fitter to take care of 
 *' himfelf than of any other perfon, it is fit and right 
 " that it fhould be fo. Every man, therefore, is 
 " much more deeply interefted in whatever imme- 
 " diately concerns himfelf, than in what concerns 
 *' any other man : and to hear, perhaps, of the 
 " death of another perfon with whom we have no 
 " particular connection, will give us lefs concern, 
 " will fpoil our ftomach, or break our reft, much 
 " lefs than a very infignificant difafter which has be- 
 " fallen ourfelves. But though the ruin of our 
 '^^ neighbor may afFecl us much lefs than a very fmall 
 *=' misfortune of our own, we mufi: not ruin him to 
 <^.' prevent that fmall misfortune, nor even to pre- 
 
 * I say parlly ; for habits of inattention to the situation of oth- 
 er men, undoabtcdiy prei-uppoce sojxie defect in the Eocial affec. 
 tions, 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND, 449 
 
 *^ vent our own ruin. We muft here, as in all oth- 
 *' er cafes, view ourfelves not fo much according to 
 " that light in which we may naturally appear to our- 
 " felves,as according to that in which we naturally ap- 
 " pear to others. Tho' every man may, according to 
 " the proverb, be the whole world to himfelf, to the 
 " reft of mankind he is a moft infignificant part 
 " of it. Though his own happinefs may be of more 
 " importance to him than that of all the world be- 
 *' fides, t@ every other perfon it is of no more con- 
 " fequence than that of any other man. Though it 
 " may be true, therefore, that every individual, in 
 " his own breaft, naturally prefers himfelf to all man- 
 *' kind, yet he dares not look mankind in the face, 
 *^ and avow that, he ads according to this principle. 
 " He feels that, in this preference they can never go 
 " along with him, and that how natural foever it 
 *' may be to him, it muft always appear exceflive 
 " and extravagant to them. When he views him- 
 *' felf in the light in which he is confcious that oth- 
 *' ers will view him, he fees that to them he is but 
 " one of the multitude, in no reiped: better than 
 *' any other in it. If he would acl fo as that the 
 *' impartial fpedator may enter into the principles of 
 " his conduA, which is what of all things he has the 
 " greateft defire to do, he muft, upon this, as upon 
 •' all other occalions, humble the arrogance of his 
 " felf-love, and bring it down to fomething which 
 " other men can go along with." 
 
 I am ready to acknowledge, that there is much 
 truth in this paffage ; and that a prudential regard 
 to the opinion of others, might teach a man of good 
 fenfe, without the aid of more amiable motives, to 
 conceal his unreafonable partialities in favor of him- 
 felf, and to acl agreeably to what he conceives to be 
 the fentiments of impartial fpedators. But I cannot 
 help thinking, that the fad is much too ftrongly 
 ftated with refped to the natural partiality of felf- 
 1 1 i 
 
450 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 love, fuppofing the fituation of our neighbors to be 
 as completely prefented to our view, as our own 
 muft of necellity be. When the Orator wifhes to 
 combat the felfifti paffions of his audience, and to 
 roufe them to a fenfe of what they owe to mankind ; 
 what mode of perfuafion does nature didate to him ? 
 Is it to remind them of the importance of the good 
 opinion of the world, and of the necefllty, in order 
 to obtain it, of accommodating their condud to the 
 fentiments of others, rather than to their own feel- 
 ings ? Such conliderations undoubtedly might, with 
 fome men, produce a certain effed ; and might lead 
 them to affume the appearance of virtue ; but they 
 would never excite a fentiment of indignation at the 
 thought of injuflice, or a fudden and involuntary 
 burft of difintereiled aifeclion. If the Orator can 
 only fucceed in fixing their attention to fad:s, and 
 in bringing thefe hd:s home to their imagination by 
 the power of his eloquence, he has completely at- 
 tained his objed. No fooner are the fads appre- 
 hended, than the benevolent principles of our na- 
 ture diiplay themfelves in all their beauty. The 
 moft cautious and timid lofe, for a moment, all 
 thought of themfelves, and defpifing every confider- 
 ation of prudence or of fafety, become wholly en« 
 grolTed with the fortunes of others. 
 
 Many other fads, which are commonly alleged 
 as proofs of the original felfifhnefs of mankind, may 
 be explained, in part, in a fimilar way ; and may be 
 traced to the habits of inattention, or to a want of 
 imagination, ariling, probably, from fome fault in 
 early educationl 
 
 What has now been remarked with refped to the 
 focial principles, may be applied to all our other paf- 
 lions, excepting thofe which take their rife from the 
 body. They are commonly ftrong in proportion to 
 the warmth and vigor of the imagination* 
 
 It is, however, extremely curious,^ that when an 
 imagination, which is naturally phiegmatic,or which. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 451 
 
 like thafe of the vulgar, has little adivity from a 
 want of culture, is fairly roufed by the defcriptions of 
 the Orator or of the Poet, it is more apt to produce 
 the violence of enthufiafm, than in minds of a fupe- 
 rior order. By giving this faculty occafional ex- 
 €rcife, we acquire a great degree of command over 
 it. As we can withdraw the attention at pleafure 
 from objecls of fenfe, and tranfport ourfelves into a 
 world of our own, fo when we wifli to moderate 
 our enthuiiafm, we can difmifs the objeds of ima- 
 gination, and return to our ordinary perceptions 
 and occupations. But in a mind to which thefe in- 
 telledlual vifions are not familiar, and which bor- 
 rows them completely from the genius of another, 
 imagination, when once excited, becomes perfedlly 
 ungovernable, and produces foinething like a tem- 
 porary infanity. Hence the wonderful efFed:s of 
 popular eloquence on the lower orders ; effects 
 which are much more remarkable, than what it ever 
 produces on men of education ^ 
 
 SECTION V. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Suhje6i. — Inconveniences refuli^ 
 ingfrom an ill-regulated Imagination, 
 
 IT was undoubtedly the intention of Nature that 
 the objects of perception fliould produce much ftron- 
 ger impreffions on the mind than its own operations. 
 And, accordingly, they always do fo, when proper 
 care has been taken in early life, to exercife the dif- 
 ferent principles of our conftitution. But it is pof- 
 fible, by long habits of folitary refleclion, to reverfe 
 this order of things, and to weaken the attention to 
 fenfible objedts to fo great a degree, as to leave the 
 condud almoft wholly under the influence of ima^ 
 gination. Removed to a dillance from fociety, and 
 
453 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 from the purfuits of life, when we have been lon^ 
 accuftomed to converfe with our own thoughts, and 
 have found our ad:ivity gratified by intellectual ex- 
 ertions, which afford fcope to all our powers and af- 
 fections, without expoling us to the inconveniences 
 refulcing from the buftle of the world, we are apt to 
 contra<^ an unnatural predile6lion for meditation, and 
 to lofe all intereft in external occurrences. In fuch 
 a fituation too, the mind gradually lofes that com- 
 mand which education, when properly conducted, 
 gives it over the train of its ideas ; till at length the 
 moft extravagant dreams of imagination acquire as 
 powerful an influence in exciting all its paffions, as 
 if they were realities. A wild and mountainous 
 country, which prefents but a limited variety of ob- 
 jects, and thefe only of fuch a fort as " awake to fol- 
 " emn thought," has a remarkable effect in cherifh- 
 ing this enthufiafm. 
 
 When fuch diforders 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 bufinefs 
 and amufements of the world ; or, if we have fuffi. 
 cient force of mind for the exertion, from refolutely 
 plunging into thofe adtive and interefting and haz- 
 ardous fcenes, which, by compelling us to attend to 
 external circumftances, may weaken the impreffions 
 of imagination, and ftrengthen thofe produced by re- 
 alities. The advice of the poet, in thefe cafes, is Cr 
 qually beautiful and juft : 
 
 ** Go, soft enthusiast ! quit the cypress groves, 
 
 " Nortotherivulet^s loDely moanings 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 puth them night and day. 
 
 ^'' Or join the caravan in quest of scenes 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 453 
 
 " New to your eyes, and shifting every hoqr, 
 
 " Beyond the Alps, beyond the Appenines. 
 
 " Or, more adventurous, rush into the the field 
 
 " Where war grows hot ; and raging thiough the sky, 
 
 " The lofty trumpet swells the madd'ning soui ; 
 
 " And in the hardy camp and toilsome march, 
 
 " Forget all softer and less manly cares."* 
 
 The difordered ftate of mind to which thefe ob- 
 servations refer is the more interefting, that it is 
 chiefly incident to men of uncommon fenfibility and 
 genius. It has been often remarked, that there is a 
 connection between genius and melancholy ; and 
 there is one fenfe of the word melancholy ^ in which 
 the remark is undoubtedly true ; a fenfe which it 
 may be diflSicult to define, but in which it implies 
 nothing either gloomy or malevolent.! This, I 
 think, is not only confirmed by fa6ts,but may be in- 
 ferred from fome principles which were formerly 
 ftated on the fubjecEl of invention ; for as the dif- 
 pofition now alluded to has a tendency to retard 
 the current of thought, and to colled the attention 
 of the mind, it is peculiarly favorable to the dlfcov- 
 ery of thofe profound conclufions which refult from 
 an accurate examination of the lefs obvious relations 
 among our ideas. From the fame principles too, 
 may be traced fome of the effecls which lituation and 
 early education produce on the intellectual charad- 
 er. Among the natives of wild and folitary coun- 
 tries we may exped to meet with fublime exertions 
 of poetical imagination and of philofophical refearch ; 
 while thofe men whofe attention has been diflipated 
 from infancy amidft the buftle of the world, and 
 whofe current of thought has been trained to yield 
 
 * Armstrong. 
 
 f A<(« ri Ttxtris ocrot 'jrs^trrot ysyovxaiv xvocbs, rt kxtx (piXocoptxy, n 
 f!^oX/T/x>!v, -n votvcriV) ♦} rs^txs, (pxivovrxt [xtXtty^o^iKOi ovris. 
 
 AiusroT. Problem, sect. xxx.. 
 
4S4> ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 and accommodate itfelf, every moment, to the rapid 
 fucceflian of trifles, which diverfify faihionable life, 
 acquire, without any effort on their part, the intel- 
 le(flu3l habits which are favorable to gaiety, vivaci- 
 ty, and wit. 
 
 When a man, under the habitual influence of a 
 warm imagination, is obliged to mingle occaflonally 
 in the fcenes of real bufinefs, he is perpetually in 
 danger of being mifled by his own enthufiafm. — 
 What we call good fenfe in the conduct of life, con- 
 iiflis chiefly in that temper of mind which enables its 
 poflefl*or to view, at all times, with perfe<5l coolnefs 
 and accuracy, all the various circumfl;ances of his iitu- 
 ation ; fo that each of them may produce its due 
 impreflion on him, without any exaggeration arif- 
 ing from his own peculiar habits. But to a man of 
 an ill-regulated imagination, external circumflances 
 only ferve as hints to excite his own thoughts, and 
 the condud he purfues has, in general, far lefs ref- 
 erence to his real fituation, than to fome imaginary 
 one, in which he conceives himfelf to be placed : in 
 confequence of which, while he appears to himfelf to 
 be ading with the moft perfect wifdom and confift- 
 ency, he may frequently exhibit to others all the 
 appearances of folly. Such, pretty nearly, feems to 
 be the idea which the Author* of the " Reflexions 
 on the Character and Writings of Roufleau," has 
 formed of that extraordinary man. " His faculties,'* 
 we are told, " were flow in their operation, but his 
 *' heart was ardent : it was in confequence of his 
 " own meditations, that he became impaflioned : he 
 *^ difcovered no fudden emotions, but all his feelings 
 *' grew upon reflexion. It has, perhaps, happened 
 " to him to fall in love gradually with a woman, by 
 " dwelling on the idea of her during her abfence. 
 *' Sometimes he would part with you with all his 
 
 * Madame de Stail. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 455 
 
 " former afFedions ; but if an expreflion had efcaped 
 *' you, which might bear an unfavorable conftruc- 
 *' tion, he would recoiled it, examine it, exaggerate 
 " it, perhaps dwell upon it for a month, and con- 
 *' elude by a total breach with you. Hence it was, 
 " that there was fcarce a poflibility of undeceiving 
 ** him ; for the light which broke in upon him at 
 ** once was not fufficient to efface the wrong im- 
 *' preffions which had taken place fo gradually in his 
 " mind. It was extremely difficult, too, to contin- 
 ** ue long on an intimate footing with him. A word, 
 *' a gefture, furniflied him with matter of profound 
 *' meditation : he connected the moft trifling cir- 
 ** cumftances like fo many mathematical propofitions, 
 *' and conceived his conclufions to be fupported by 
 *' the evidence of demonftration. I believe," contin- 
 ues this ingenious writer, " that imagination was 
 •^ the ftrongefl of his faculties, and that it had almoft 
 " abforbed all the reft. He dreamed rather than ex- 
 " ifted, and the events of his life might be faid, 
 " more properly, to have paffed in his mind, than 
 *^ without him : a mode of being, one fliould have 
 " thought, that ought to have fecured him from 
 " diftruft, as it prevented him from obfervation ; 
 *' but the truth was, it did not hinder him from at- 
 *' tempting to obferve ; it only rendered his obfer- 
 " vations erroneous That his foul was tender, no 
 ** one can doubt, after having read his works ; but 
 ^ his imagination fometimes interpofed between hi& 
 " affections, and deflroyed their influence : he ap- 
 " peared fometimes void of fenfibility ; but it was 
 *' becaufe he did not perceive objects inch as they 
 " were. ' Had he feen them with our eyes, his 
 " heart would have been more affected than ours.** 
 In this very'ftriking defcription we fee the melan- 
 choly picture of fenfibility and genius apprc^aching 
 to infanity. It is a cafe, probably, that but rarely 
 occurs, in the extent here defcribed : but, I believe. 
 
456 ELEMENTS OF TKS PHILOSOPHY 
 
 there is no man who has lived much in the world, 
 who will not trace many refembling features to it, 
 in the circle of his own acquaintances : perhaps there 
 are few, who have not been occafionally confcious 
 of fome refemblance to it in themfelves. 
 
 To thefe obfervations we may add, that by an ex- 
 ceffive indulgence in the pleafures of irhagination,, 
 the tafte may acquire a faftidious refinement unfuit- 
 able t© the prefent fituation of human nature ; and 
 thofe intelledtual and moral habits, which ought to 
 be formed by a<^ual experience of the world, may 
 be gradually fo accommodated to the dreams of po- 
 etry and romance, as to difqualify us for the fcenes 
 in which we are deftined to ad:. Such a diftemper- 
 ed ftate of the mind is an endles fource of error ; 
 more particularly when we are placed in thofe crit- 
 ical fituations, in which our condud: determines our 
 future happinefs or mifery ; and which, on account 
 of this extenfive influence on human life, form the 
 principal ground-work of fiditious compofition. The 
 efFed of novels, in mifleading the pallions of youth, 
 with refpecl to the moft interefting and important 
 of all relations, is one of the many inftances of the in- 
 conveniences refulting from an ill- regulated imagin- 
 ation. 
 
 The paffion of love has been, in every age, the 
 favorite fubjecft of the poets, and has given birth to 
 the fined productions of human genius. Thefe are 
 the natural delight of the young and fufceptible, long 
 before the influence of the pallions is felt ; and from 
 thefe a romantic mind forms to itfelf an ideal model 
 of beauty and perfeclion, and becomes enamoured 
 with its own creation. On a heart which has been 
 long accuftomed to be thus warmed by the imagin- 
 ation, the excellencies of real characters make but a 
 flight impreflion : and, accordingly, it will be found, 
 that men of a romantic turn, unlefs when under the 
 influence of violent paflions, are feldoni attached to 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 457 
 
 a particular objed. Where, indeed, fuch a turn is 
 united with a warmth of temperament, the efFe<Ets 
 are different ; but they are equally fatal to happinefs. 
 As the diftindions which exill among real characters 
 are confounded by falfe and exaggerated conceptions 
 of ideal perfedion, the choice is direded to fome ob- 
 jed by caprice and accident ; a flight refemblance is 
 miftaken for an exadt coincidence ; and the defcrip- 
 tions of the poet and novelift are applied literally 
 to an individual, who perhaps falls fliort of the com- 
 mon ftandard of excellence. " I am certain," fays 
 the Author laft quoted, in her account of the char* 
 ader of Rouffeau, " that he never formed an attach- 
 ** ment which was not founded on caprice. It was 
 ** illufions alone that could captivate his paffions ; 
 *' and it was neceflary for him always to accomplifli 
 ** his mittrefs from his own fancy. I am certain al- 
 « fo," fhe adds, " that the woman whom he loved 
 " the moft, and perhaps the only woman whom he 
 *' loved conftantly, was his own Julie J* 
 
 In the cafe of this particular paffion, the efFeds of 
 a romantic imagination are obvious to the moft care- 
 lefs obferver ; and they have often led moralifts to 
 regret, that a temper of mind fo dangerous to hap- 
 pinefs fliould have received fo much encouragement 
 from fome writers of our own age, who might have 
 employed their genius to better purpofes. Thefe, 
 however, are not the only effeds which fuch habits 
 of ftudy have on the charader. Some others, which 
 are not fo apparent at firft view, have a tendency, 
 not only to miflead us where our own happinels is 
 at ftake, but to defeat the operation of thofe adiv^ 
 principles which were intended to unite us to focie- 
 ty. The manner in which imagination influences the 
 mind, in the inftances which I allude to at prefent, 
 is curious, and deferves a more particular explana*. 
 tion. 
 
 KKk 
 
4SS ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSFOPHY 
 
 I {hall have occafion afterwards to llievv,* in treat- 
 ing of our moral powers, that experience diminifh- 
 es the influence of paflive impreflions on the mind, 
 but ftrengthens our adive principles. A courfe of 
 debauchery deadens the fenfe of pleafure, but increa- 
 fes the defire of gratification. An immoderate ufe 
 of ftrong liquors deftroys the feniibility of the palate, 
 but ftrengthens the habit of intemperance. The en- 
 joyments we derive from any favourite purfuit grad- 
 ually decay as we advance in years : and yet we 
 continue to profecute our favorite purfuits with in- 
 creafing fteadinefs and vigor. 
 
 On thefe two laws of our nature is founded our 
 capacity of moral improvement. In proportion as 
 we are accuftomed to obey o\xy fenfe of duty, the in- 
 fluence of the temptations to vice is diminilhed ; 
 while, at the fame time, our habit of virtuous con- 
 dud is confirmed. How many paflive impreflions^ 
 for inftance, muft be overcome, before the virtue or 
 beneficence can exert itfelf uniformly and habituaUy ! 
 How many circumftances are there in the diftrefles 
 of others, which have a tendency to alienate our 
 hearts from them, and which prompt us to withdraw 
 from the fight of the miferable ! The impreflions we 
 receive from thefe, are unfavorable to virtue : their 
 force, however, every day diminiflies, and it may 
 perhaps, by perfeverance, be wholly deftroyed. It 
 is thus that the character of the beneficent man is 
 formed. The pafiive impreflions which he felt ori- 
 ginally, and which counteracted his fenfe of duty, 
 have loft their influence, and a habit of beneficence 
 is become part of his nature. 
 
 It muft be owned, that this reafoning may, in part, 
 be retorted ; for among thofe paflive impreflions, 
 which are weakened by repetition, there are fome 
 
 * The following reasoning was suggested to me by a passage in 
 Butler's Analogy, vfhx6U the reader will find in Note [U] at the 
 ejid of the volume. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 459 
 
 which have a beneficial tendency. The uneafinefs, 
 in particular, which the fight of diftrefs occafions, is 
 a ftrong incentive to ads of humanity ; and it can- 
 not be denied that it is lelTened by experience. This 
 might naturally lead us to expe6l, that the young ^ 
 and unpradifed would be more dilpofed to perform 
 beneficent acftions, than thofe who are advanced in 
 life, and who have been familiar with fcenes of mif- 
 ery. And, in truth, the fadl would be fo, were it 
 not that the effeS: ojf cuftom on this paflive impref- 
 fion is counteracted by its efFed on others ; and, 
 above all, by its influence in ftrengthening the adive 
 habit of beneficence. An old and experienced phy-» 
 lician is lefs affected by the fight of bodily pain, than 
 a younger practitioner ; but he has acquired a more 
 confirmed habit of aflifting the fick and helplefs, and 
 would offer greater violence to his nature, if he 
 fhould withhold from them any relief that he has in 
 his power to beftow. In this cafe, we fee a beauti- 
 ful provifion made for our moral improvement, as 
 the effects of experience on one part of our conftitu- 
 tion, are made to counterad itseffedls on another. 
 
 If the foregoing obfervations be well founded, it 
 will follow, that habits of virtue are not to be form- 
 ed in retirement, but by mingling in the fcenes of 
 adive life, and that an habitual attention to exhibi- 
 tions of fiditious diflrefs, is not merely ufelefs to the 
 charader, but pofitively hurtful. 
 
 It will not, I think, be difputed, that the frequent 
 perufal of pathetic compofitions diminifhes the unea- 
 finefs which they are naturally fitted to excite. A 
 perfon who indulges habitually in fuch fludies, may 
 feel a growing delire of his ufual gratification, but 
 he is every day lefs and lefs affeded by the fcenes 
 which are presented to him. I believe it would be 
 difficult to find an ador long hackneyed on the flage, 
 who is capable of being completely interefted by the 
 .diflreffes of a tragedy. The effed of fuch compofiv 
 
460 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHT 
 
 tions and reprefentations, in rendering the mind 
 callous to adlual diftrefs, is ftill greater ; for as the 
 imagination of the Poet almoft always carries him 
 beyond truth and nature, a familiarity with the tra- 
 gic fcenes which he exhibits, can hardly fail to dead- 
 en the impreflion produced by the comparatively 
 trifling fufferings which the ordinary courfe of hu- 
 man affairs prefents to us. In real life, a provifion is 
 made for this gradual decay of fenlibilicy, by the 
 proportional decay of other paffive impreffions, 
 which have an oppofite tendency, and by the addi- 
 tional force which our adive habits are daily acquir- 
 ing. Exhibitions of fiditious diftrefs while they 
 produce the former change on the character, have 
 no influence in producing the latter : on the contra- 
 ry, they tend to ftrengthen thofe paffive impreffions 
 which countera(5t beneficence. The fcenes into which 
 the Novelift introduces us are, in general, perfectly 
 unlike thofe which occur in the world. As his ob- 
 jed: is to pleafe, he removes from his defcriptions 
 every circumftance which is difgufting, and prefents 
 "US with hiftories of elegant and dignified diftrefs. It 
 is not fuch fcenes that human life exhibits. We 
 have to ad, not with refined and elevated charac- 
 ters, but with the mean, the illiterate, the vulgar, 
 and the profligate. The perufal of fiditious hiftory 
 has a tendency to increafe that difguft which we na- 
 turally feel at the concomitants of diftrefs, and to 
 cultivate a falfe refinement of tafte, inconfiftent with 
 our condition as members of fociety. Nay, it is 
 poffible for this refinement to be carried fo far, as 
 to witlK^raw a man from the duties of life, and even 
 from the fight of thofe diftrefles which he might al- 
 leviate. And, accordingly, many are to be found, 
 who, if the fituations of romance were realifed, 
 would not fail to difplay the virtues of their favorite 
 charaders, whofe fenfe of duty is not fufficiently 
 firong to engage them in the humble and private 
 fcenes of human mifery. 
 
OF THB HUMAN MIND. 461 
 
 To thefe efFeds of fi(5litious hiftory we may add» 
 that it gives no exercife to our adive habits. In re- 
 al life, we proceed from the paflive irapreflion to 
 thofe exertions which it was intended to produce* 
 In the contemplation of imaginary fufferings, we ftop 
 ihort at the impreflion, and whatever benevolent 
 difpofitions we may feel, we have no opportunity of 
 carrying them into adion. 
 
 From thefe reafonings it appears, that an habitual 
 attention to exhibitions of fictitious diftrefs, is in ev- 
 ery view calculated to check our moral improvement. 
 It diminifhes that unealinefs which we feel at the 
 iight of diftrefs, and which prompts us to relieve it. 
 It ftrengthens that difguft which the loathfome con- 
 comitants of diftrefs excite in the mind, and which 
 prompts us to avoid the fight of mifery ; while, at 
 the fame time, it has no tendency to confirm thofe 
 habits of adive beneficence, without which, the beft 
 difpofitions are ufelefs. I would not, however, be 
 underftood to diftpprove entirely of fiditious narra- 
 tives, or of pathetic compofitions. On the contrary, 
 I think that the perufal of them may be attended 
 with advantage, when the efteds which I have men- 
 tioned are corrected by habits of real bufinefs. They 
 foothe the mind when rufiled by the rude inter- 
 courfe of fociety, and ftealing the attention infenfibly 
 from our own cares, fubftitute, inftead of difcontent 
 and diftrefs, a tender and pleafing melancholy. By 
 exhibitions of characters a little elevated above the 
 common ftandard, they have a tendency to cultivate 
 the tafte in life ; to quicken our difguft ^t what is 
 mean or offenfive, and to form the mind infenfibly 
 to elegance and dignity. Their tendency to culti- 
 vate the powers of moral perception has never been 
 difputed ; and when the influence of fucli percep- 
 tions is powerfully felt, and is united with an active 
 and manly temper, they render the character not 
 only more amiable, but more happy in itfelf, and 
 
462 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY 
 
 more ufeful to others ; for although a rectitude of 
 judgment with refped to conduct, and ftrong mor- 
 al feelings, do, by no means, alone conftitute vir- 
 tue ; yet they are frequently necelTary to direct our 
 behavior in the more critical fituations of life ; and 
 they increafe the intereft we take in the general 
 profperity ot virtue in the world. I believe, like- 
 wife, that by means of fictitious hiftory, difplays of 
 charafter may be moft fuccefsfuUy given, and the 
 various weakneffes of the heart expofed. I only 
 meant to infinuate, that a tafte for them may be car- 
 ried too far ; that the fenfibility which terminates 
 in imagination, is but a refined and felfifh luxury ; 
 and that nothing can efFe6tually advance our moral 
 improvement, but an attention to the adive duties 
 which belong to our flations. 
 
 SECTION VI. 
 
 Continuation of the fame Subjed. — Important Ufes to which 
 the Power of hnagination isfubfervient. 
 
 THE faculty of Imagination is the great fpring of 
 human adivity, and the principal fource of human 
 improvement. As it delights in prefenting to the 
 mind fcenes and characters more perfect than thofe 
 which we are acquainted with, it prevents us from 
 ever being completely fatisfied with our prefent con- 
 dition, or with our paft attainments, and engages us 
 continually in the purfuit of fome untried enjoyment, 
 or of foine ideal excellence. Hence the ardor of the 
 felfifh to better their fortunes, and to add to their 
 perfonal accompliihments ; and hence the zeal of the 
 Patriot and the Philofopher to advance the virtue 
 and the happinefs of the human race. Deltroy this 
 faculty, and the condition of man will become as 
 ftationary as that of the brutes. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 463 
 
 When the notions of enjoyment or of excellence 
 which imagination has formed, are greatly raifed a- 
 bove the ordinary ftandard, they intereft the paffions 
 too deeply to leave us at all times the cool exercife 
 of reafon, and produce that ftate of the mind which 
 is commonly known by the name of Enthuliafm ; a 
 temper which is one of the moft fruitful fources of 
 error and difappointment ; but w^hich is a fource, at 
 the fame time, of heroic actions and of exalted char- 
 afters. To the exaggerated conceptions of elo- 
 quence which perpetually revolved in the mind of 
 Cicero ; to that idea which haunted his thoughts of 
 aliquid immenfum infinitmique ; we are indebted for 
 fome of the moft fplendid difplays of human genius : 
 and it is probable that fomething of the fame kind 
 has been felt by every man who has rifen much a- 
 bove the level of humanity, either in fpeculation of 
 in adtion. It is happy for the individual, when thefe 
 enthufiaftic defires are directed to events which do 
 not depend on the caprice of fortune. 
 
 The pleafure we receive from the higher kinds of 
 poetry takes rife, in part, from that diffatisfaftion 
 which the objefts of imagination infpire us with, for 
 the fcenes, the events, and the characters, with which 
 our fenfes are converfant. Tired and difgufted 
 with this world of imperfeftion, we delight to efcape 
 to another of the poet's creation, where the charms 
 of nature wear an eternal bloom, and where fources 
 of enjoyment are opened to us, fuited to the vaft ca- 
 pacities of the human mind. On this natural love 
 of poetical fiftion. Lord Bacon has founded a very 
 ingenious argument for the foul's immortality ; and, 
 indeed, one of the moft important purpofes to which 
 it is fubfervient, is to elevate the mind above the 
 purfuits of our prefent condition, and to dired the 
 views to higher objeds. In the mean time, it is 
 rendered fubfervient alto, in an eminent degree, to 
 the improvement and happineis of mankind, by the 
 
464j elements of the philosophy 
 
 tendency which it has to accelerate the progrefs of 
 fociety. 
 
 As the pictures which the Poet prefents to us are 
 never (even in works of pure defcription) faithful 
 copies from nature, but are always oieant to be im- 
 provements on the original flie affords, it cannot be 
 doubted that they mutt have fome efFed in refining 
 and exalting our tafle, both with refpe^t to materi- 
 al beauty, and to the objeds of our purfuit in life. 
 It has been alleged, that the works of our defcrip- 
 tive poets have contributed to difFufe that tafle for 
 pi6lurefque beauty, which is fo prevalent in Eng- 
 land, and to recal the public admiration from the fan- 
 taftic decorations of art, to the more powerful and 
 permanent charms of cultivated nature ; and it is 
 certain, that the firfl ardours of many an illuflrious 
 character have been kindled by the compofitions of 
 Homer and Virgil. It is difficult to fay to what a 
 degree, in the earlier periods of fociety, the rude 
 compofitions of the bard and the minflrel may have 
 been inftrumental in humanizing the minds of fav- 
 age warriors, and in accelerating the growth of cul- 
 tivated manners. Among the Scandinavians and 
 the Celtse we know that this order of men was held 
 in very peculiar veneration ; and, accordingly, it 
 would appear, from the monuments which remain 
 of thefe nations, that they were diftinguifhed by a 
 delicacy in the paffion of love, and by a humanity 
 and generofity to the vanquifhed in war, which fel- 
 dom appear among barbarous tribes ; and with 
 which it is hardly poflible to conceive how men in 
 fuch a flate of fociety could have been infpired, but 
 by a feparate clafs of individuals in the community, 
 who devoted themfelves to the pacific profeffion of 
 poetry, and to the cultivation of that creative pow- 
 er of the mind, which anticipates the courfe of hu- 
 man affairs ; and prefents, in prophetic viiion, to 
 the poet and the philofopher, the bleffiiigs which 
 accompany the progrefs of reafon and refinement. 
 
OF THE HUMAN MIND. 465 
 
 Nor muft we omit to mention the important ef- 
 feds of Imagination in multiplying the fources of 
 innocent enjoyment, beyond what this limited fcene 
 affords. Not to infift on the nobler efforts of gen- 
 ius, which have rendered this part of our conftitu- 
 tion fubfervient to moral improvement ; how much 
 has the fphere of our happinefs been extended by 
 thofe agreeable fidlions which introduce us to new 
 worlds, and make us acquainted with new orders of 
 being ! What a fund of amufement, through life, is 
 prepared for one who reads, in his childhood, the 
 fables of ancient Greece 1 They dwell habitually on 
 the memory, and are ready, at all times, to fill up 
 the intervals of bulinefs, or of ferious reflection ; 
 and in his hours of rutal retirement and leifure, they 
 warm his mind with the fire of ancient genius, and 
 animate every fcene he enters, with the offspring of 
 claffical fancy. 
 
 It is, however, chiefly in painting future fcenes 
 that Imagination loves to indulge herfelf, and her 
 prophetic dreams are almofl: always favorable to hap- 
 pinefs. By an erroneous education, indeed, it is 
 pofllble to render this faculty an inftrument of con- 
 fliant and of exquifite distreis ; but in fuch cafes 
 (abfl:rading from the influence of aconftitutional mel- 
 ancholy) the difl:reffes of a gloomy imagination are 
 to be afcribed not to nature, but to the force of early 
 impreflions. 
 
 The common bias of the mind undoubtedly' i?, 
 (fuch is the benevolent appointment of Providence,) 
 to thir.k favorably of the future ; to over-value the 
 chances of poflible good, and to under-rate the riflss 
 of poflible evil ; and in the cafe of fome fortunate 
 individuals, this difpofition remains after a thou- 
 fand difappointments. To what this bias of our na- 
 ture is owing, it is not material for us to inquire : 
 the fad is certain, and it is an important one to our 
 happinefs. It fupports us under the real diftreffes 
 LlI 
 
^60 ELEMENTS OF THE PHILOSOPHY &C, 
 
 of life, and cheers and animates all our labors : and 
 although it is fometimes apt to produce, in a weak 
 and indolent mind, thofe deceitful fuggeftions of 
 ambition and vanity, which lead us to facrifice the 
 duties and the comforts of the prefent moment, to 
 romantic hopes and expectations ; yet it muft be ac- 
 knowledged, when connected with habits of activity , 
 and regulated by a folid judgment, to have a favor- 
 able effedl on the charader, by infpiring that ardor 
 and enthufiafm which both prompt to great enter- 
 prifes, and are neceflary to enfure their fuccefs. 
 When fuch a temper is united (as it commonly is) 
 with plealing notions, concerning the order of the 
 univerfe, and in particular concerning the condition 
 and the profped:s of man, it places our happinefs, in 
 a great meafure, beyond the power of fortune. 
 While it adds a double relifli to every enjoyment, it 
 blunts the edge of all our fufferings ; and even when 
 human life prefents to us no object on which our 
 hopes can reft, it ipvites the imagination beyond the 
 dark and troubled horizon which terminates all our 
 earthly profpe(5ts, to wander unconfined in the re- 
 gions of futurity. A man of benevolence, whofe 
 mind is enlarged by Philofophy, will indulge the 
 fame agreeable anticipations with refpect to fociety ; 
 will view all the different improvements in arts, in 
 commerce, and in the fciences, as co-operating to 
 promote the union, the happinefs, and the virtue of 
 mankind ; and, amidft the political diforders refult- 
 ing from the prejudices and follies of his own times, 
 will look forward with tranfport, to the bleflings 
 which are referved for pofterity in a more enlight- 
 ened age. 
 
NOTES 
 
 AND 
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
C46r 
 
 NOTES, &c. 
 
 NOTE [AJ page 12. 
 
 I AM happy in being able to quote the following pas- 
 sage, in illustration of a doctrine, against which I do not 
 conceive it possible to urge any thing, but the authority of 
 some illustrious names. 
 
 " Puisque I'existence des corps n'est pour nous que la 
 " permanence : d'etres dont les proprieies repondent a un 
 <* certain ordre dc nos sensations, il en resulie qu'elle ti'a 
 *' rien de plus certam 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 que nous faisona sur les etres pensants qui animent 
 " aussi des corps, ne nous roontrent aucune analogic entrc 
 "Tetre qui sent ou qui pense Sc I'etre qui nous offrc le phe- 
 ** nomene de Tetendue ou de I'impenetrabilitie, il n'y a aa- 
 ** cune raison de croire ces etres de la n^eme nature. Ainsi 
 '* la spiritualite de I'ame n'est pas une opinion qui ait be- 
 *' soin de preuvcs, mais le resultat simple & naturel I'unc 
 *•' analyse exacte de nos idees, Sc de nos facultes." 
 
 Vie^e M, Turcot /»tfr 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 studymg 
 the intellectual phenomena. It is chiefly in consequence of 
 his precise ideas with respect to this distinction, that we 
 may remark, in all his metaphysical writings, a perspicuity 
 which is not observable in those of any of his predecessors. 
 
 Dr. Reid has remarked, that although Des Cartes infers 
 the existence of mind, from the operations of which we arc^ 
 
4.70 NOTES AND ILLLUSTRATIONSW 
 
 conscious, vet he eould not reconcile himself to the Botien 
 of an unknown substance, or substratum, to which these op- 
 'crations belonged. And it was on this account, he conjec- 
 tures, that he made the essence of the soul to consist in 
 thought ; as, for a similar reason, he had made the essence 
 of niatter lo consist m extension. But I am afraid, that 
 this supposition is not perfectly reconcilable with Des Car- 
 tes' writings ; for he repeatedly speaks with the utmost 
 confidence of the existence of substances of which we have 
 only a relative 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 quse ita existit, ut nulla alia re indigeat ad existen- 
 '* dum. El quidem substantia quas nulla plane re indigeat, 
 " unica tantum potest intelligi, nempe Dcus, Alias vero 
 *•*• omnes, non nisi ope concursus Dei existere posse percipi- 
 " mus. Atque ideo nomen substantive non convenit Deo 
 " et illis univoce ut dici solet in scholia ; hoc est, nulla ejus 
 ** nominis significatio, potest distincte intelligi, quse Deo, 
 *' et creaturis ait communis. 
 
 '' Possunt autem substantia corporea, et mens, sive sub- 
 '* stantia cogitans, creata, sub hoc communi conceptu intel- 
 '* ligi ; quod sint res, quse solo Dei concursu agent ad ex- 
 " istendum, Verumtamen non potest substantia primum 
 " animadverti ex hoc solo, quod sit res existens, quia hoc 
 *' solum per se nos non afficit : sed facile ipsam agnosci- 
 " mus ex quolibet ejus attribute, per communem illam no- 
 " tionem, quod nihili nulla sunt attributa, nulisevse prcprie- 
 " tates aut qualitates. Ex hoc enim, quod aliquod attribu- 
 *' turn adesse percipiamus concludimus aliquam rem exis- 
 " tentem, sive substantiam cui illud tribui possit, necessa- 
 " rio etiam adesse. 
 
 " Et quidem ex quolibet attributo substantia cognosci- 
 " tur ; sed una tamen est cujusque substantise prsecipua 
 " proprietas, quae ipsius naturam assentiamque constituit, 
 " et ad quam alise omnes referuntur. Nempe extensio in 
 *' longum, latum et profundum substantise corporse naturam 
 " constituit ; et cogitatio constituit naturam substantise co. 
 " gitantis." — 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^ 
 Si8 I am unwilling to furnish the slightest occasion for cony 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 471 
 
 Iroversy ; 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 ne- 
 cessarily accompanied with a conviction of my own exist- 
 ence, 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 66. 
 
 DOCTOR REID remarks, that Des Cartes rejected a 
 part only of the antient 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 on- 
 " ly the species or image of it in the mind. The first part, 
 ^' Des Cartes and his followers rejected and refuted by solid 
 •' arguments ; but the second part, neither he nor his fol- 
 " lowers have thought of calling in question ; being persua- 
 '* ded that it is only a representative image in the mind of 
 " the external object that we perceive and not the object 
 " itsetf. And this image, which the peripatetics called a 
 •' species, he calls an idea, changing the aame only, while 
 " he admits the thing." 
 
 The account which this passage contains of Des Cartes 
 doctrine concerning perception, is, 1 believe, agreeable to 
 his prevailing opinion, as it may be collected from the gen- 
 eral 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, 
 however, to the first part of the antient theory, as here sta- 
 ted, it may be proper to remark, that Des Cartes, al- 
 though evidently by no means satisfied with it, sometimes 
 expresses himself as if he rather doubted of it, than express- 
 ly denied it ; and at other times, when pressed with objec- 
 tions 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 aniientdoctrine. 
 " Observandum praeterea, animam, nullis imaginibus ab 
 " objectis ad cerebrum missis egere ut sentiat, (contra quam 
 
473 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " communiter philosophi nostri statuunt,)aut ad minimum 
 " loiige aliter illarum imaginum naturam concipiendam esse 
 " quam vulgo fit. Quum enim circa eas nil considerent, 
 '' prseter similitudiuem earum cum objectis quse reprsesen- 
 " tant, non possunt explicare, qua ratione ab objectis for- 
 " mari queant, et recipi ab organis sensuum exteriorum, 
 *' et demum nervis ad cerebrum transvehi. Nee alia causa 
 " imagines istas fingere eos impulit, nisi quod viderent 
 " mentem nostram efficaciter pictura excitari ad apprehen- 
 " dendum objectum illvid, quod exhibit : ex hoc enim judi- 
 " carunt, illam eodem modo excitandara, ad apprehendenda 
 ** ea quae sensus movent, per exiguas quasdam imagines, 
 " in capite nostro delineatas. Sed nobis contra est advcr- 
 ** tendum, multa prseter imagines esse, quse cogitationes ex- 
 " citant, ut exempli gratia, verba et signa, nulla modo sim* 
 ** ilia lis quse sigwificant" 
 
 Dioptric, cap. 4. § 6. 
 
 In his third meditation (which contains his celebrated 
 argument for the existence of a Deity) the following pas- 
 sage occurs. 
 
 *' Sed hie prsecipue de iis est quserendum quas tanquam 
 " a rebus extra me existentibus desumpias consider©, quae- 
 ** nam me moveat ratio ut illas istis rebus similes esse ex- 
 '* istimem ; nempe ita videor doctus a natura, et prcetera 
 " experior illas non a mea voluntate nee proinde a me ipso 
 " pendere, ssepe enim vel invito obversantur, ut iam,sive ve- 
 '* lim sive nolim,sentio calorem, ct ideo puto sensum ilium, 
 *' sive ideam coloris 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 ; quse rationes an satis 
 *' firmse sint, jam videbo. Cum hie dice me ita doctum 
 ** esse a natura, intelligo tantum spontaneo quodam impetu 
 ** me ferri ad hoc credendum, non lumine aliquo naturali 
 " mihi ostendi esse verum, qu£e duo mullum discrepant, 
 " nam qusecumque lumine naturali mihi ostenduntur, (ut 
 " quod ex eo quod dubitem sequatur me esse, et similia,) 
 *' nullo modo dubia esse possunt, quia nulla alia facultas 
 *' esse potest, cui aeque fidam ac lumini isti, quseque ilia non 
 " vera pos'-lt docere ; sed quantum ad impetus naturales, 
 " jam saepe olim judicavi me ab illis in deterioreni partem 
 *' fuisse impulsum cum de bono eligendo ageretur,i)cc video 
 *' cur iisdem in ulla alia re magis fidam. Deinde quam vis 
 *' idtce illaj a voluntate mea non pendeant, non ideo constat 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 473 
 
 " ipsas a rebus extra me positis necessario procedere ; ut 
 *' enim impetus illi, de quibus mox loquebar, quamvis in 
 *' me sint, a voluntate tamen raea diversi esse videntur, 
 ♦' ita forte etiam aliqua alia est in me facultas nondum mihi 
 '* satis cognitaisiarumidearum effectrix:, uthactenus semper 
 " visum est illas, dum somnio, absque ulla rerum externa- 
 " rum ope in me formari ; ac denique quamvis a rebus a me 
 *' dive'sis procederent, con inde sequitur illas rebus istis 
 *' similes esse debere ; quinimo in multis esepe magnum 
 *' discrimen videor deprehendisse ; sic, exempli causa, duas 
 •* diversas sal is ideas apud me invenio, unam tanquam a 
 *' sensibus haustam et quae maxime inter illas quas advcnti- 
 ** tijis exisiimo est rccensenda, per quam mihi valde par- 
 " vus apparet ; aliam vero ex raiionibus astronomia de- 
 ** sumptam, hoc est ex notionibus quibusdam mihi innatis 
 ** elicitam vel quocumque alio modo a me factam, per quam 
 ** aliquoties major quam terra exhibetur ; utraque profecto 
 *' similis eidem soli extra me existenti esse non potest et 
 *' ratio persuadet illam ei maxime esse dissimilem, quae 
 " quam proxime ab ipso videtur emanasse. Quae omnia 
 *' satis demonsirant me non hactenus ex certo judicio, sed 
 " tantum ex cseco aliquo impulsu credidisse res quasdam a 
 ** me diversas existere, quae 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 ; 
 *' Videria vertere in dubium non tantum utrum idcee aliquas 
 " procedant ex rebus externis, sed etim utrum omnino sint 
 *' externaB res aliquae." I'o which Des Cartes answers : 
 " Notandum est, me nonaffirmasse ideas rerum matcrialium 
 *' ex mente deduci, ut non satis bona fide hie fingis ; ex- 
 " presse enim p.ostea ostendi ipsas a corporibus saepe adve- 
 ** nire, ac per hoc corporum existentiam probari." 
 
 Vide Objectiones in Meditationes Renatt Des Cartes ^ 
 cum ejusdem ad illas Responsionibus. 
 
 NOTE [C,] page 69. 
 
 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- 
 tena does not consist in his premises, but in the concjusion 
 which he draws from thera. 
 
 M Mm 
 
 f 
 
474 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 That ihe object of the physical inquirer is not to tracj? 
 necessary connections or to ascertain the efficient causes of 
 phenomena, is a43rinciple which has been frequently ascrib- 
 ed 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 niaintained by many of the most enlightened, 
 and the least sceptical of our modern philosophers : nor do 
 I know that it was ever suspected to have a dangerous ten- 
 dency, till the publication of Mr. Hume's writings. " If 
 " we accept" (says Dr. Barrow) " the mutual causality and 
 *' dependence of the t^rms of a mathematical demonstration, 
 ** I do not think that there is any other causality in the na- 
 ^*' ture of things, wherein a necessary consequence can be 
 *' founded. Logicians do indeed boast of I do not know 
 ** what kind of demonstrations from external causes either 
 " efficient or final, but without being able to shew one gen- 
 *' uine example of any such ; nay,! imagine it is impossi- 
 ** ble for them so to do. For there can be no such con- 
 " nection of an external efficient cause with its effect," (at 
 least none such can be understood b> 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 form 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 ejects 
 " that the most knowing are acquainted with i for as to 
 *' causes they are as entirely in the dark as the most ignor- 
 ** ant." " 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 Ser7nons, 
 
 ** The laws of attraction and repulsion" (says Dr. Berke- 
 ley) " are to be regarded a& 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 discov- 
 " er the laws of nature ; that is, the general rules and 
 *' methods of motion ; and to account for particular phe- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ^S. 
 
 ** nomena, by reducing them under, or shewing their con- 
 ** formity to such general rules." 
 
 SiRis : or, PhiJo^Qphtcal Inquiries concerning the Fir- 
 tues 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 plienomena or appearances of nature, which are a 
 ** foundation for general rules : and these are a grammar 
 ** for the understanding ot 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 universe, there may be vaticination. And in reality 
 " he that foretels the motions of the planets, or the effects 
 *' of medicines, or the result of chemical or mechanical ex- 
 " periments, may be said to do it by natural vaticination." 
 
 Ibid, p. J 20, 121. 
 
 " instruments, occasions, and signs, occur in, or rather 
 " make up, the whole visible course of nature." 
 
 //^zV. p. 123. 
 
 The following very remarkable passage from Mr, Locke" 
 shews clearly that this eminent philosopher considered the 
 connection 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 rt />rzor7. The passage is ihe 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 com- 
 *' municaiing motion by impulse ; and of our souls, the 
 *< power of exciting motion by thought. These ideas, the 
 '* one of body, the other of our minds, every day's experi- 
 **^ 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, . 
 
4r6 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " 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 mv.ve 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 impulse 
 " which we ascribe to body. Constant experience makes 
 ** us sensible of both of these, though our narrow under- 
 " standings can comprehend neither." 
 
 '* 1 o conclude, sensation convinces us, that there 
 
 " are solid extended substances ; and reflection, that there 
 " are thinkmg 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 far-* 
 *' ther, 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 sub- 
 " stance we know not, should by impulse set body into mo- 
 " tion." Locke, book ii. chap. 28. § S,3, 2S. 
 
 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 connections among physical events, coincide perfect- 
 ly with those of Malebranche on the same subject ; but they 
 were employed by this last writer to support a very differ- 
 ent conclusion. 
 
 At a still earlier period, Hobbes expressed himself with 
 respect to phys]cal 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 
 " future ; 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 foliowed by like consequents, when- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 477 
 
 " soever he seeihthe 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 
 *' whersoever he seeth the antecedent, he looketh again 
 " for the consequent, or when he seeth the consequent, 
 *' raaketh 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 author - 
 ties, that of Lord Bacon, who, although he has no where 
 formerly stated the doctrine now under consideration, has 
 plainly taken it for granted in all his reasonings on the 
 method of prosecuting philosophical inquiries ; for if we 
 could perceive in any instance the manner in which a cause 
 produces 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 natu- 
 ** rae 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 as 
 from some particular expressions in them with regard to 
 causes, I am inclined to believe that his metaphysical no- 
 tions on the subject were not very accurate, and that he 
 was led to perceive the necessity of recurring to observa-i 
 tion and experiment in natural philosophy, not from a spec- 
 ulative consideration of our ignorance concerning necessa" 
 ry connections, b«jt from a conviction, founded on a review 
 of the history of science, of th(i insufficiency of those meth- 
 ods of inquiry which his p.edecessors had pursued. The 
 notion which the ancients had formed of the object of phi- 
 losophy, (which they conceived to be the investigation of 
 efficient causes,)\vas the principal circumstance which mis- 
 led 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 studv of physics. 
 " Perspicuuni est," (sayi. he, in one passage,) " optirnam 
 " philosophandi viam nos sequuturos, si ex ipsius Dei cog- 
 " nitione rerum ab eo creatarum cognitionem deducere 
 " coneraur, ut ita scientiam perfectissimam qusae est effect- 
 " uum per causas acquiramus."* 
 
 • There is, I believe, reason to doubt if Des Cartes had ever read the works 
 ofBacoii. 
 
4?* NOTES AND ILLLUSTRATIOKS: 
 
 The strong prejudice which has been entertained of late 
 against Mr. Hume's doctrine concerning the connection a- 
 mong physical events, in consequence of the dangerous con- 
 clusions to which it has erroneously been supposed to lead, 
 "will, I hope, be a sufficient apology for multiplying so ma- 
 ny authorities in support of it. 
 
 NOTE [D,] page 7t. 
 
 THIS language has even been adopted by philosophers, 
 and by atheists as well as theists. The latter have repre- 
 sented natural events as parts of a great chain, the highest 
 link of which is supported by the Deity. The former have 
 pretended, th.it there is no absurdity in supposing the num- 
 ber ol links to be infinite. Mr. Hume had the merit of 
 shewing clearly to philosophers, that our common language, 
 with respect to cause and effect, is merely analogical ; and 
 that if there be any links among physical events, they must 
 forever remain invisible to us. If this pa'^t of his system 
 be admitted ; and if, at the same time, we admit the author- 
 ity of that principle of the mind, which leads us to refer 
 every change to an efficient cause ; Mr. H\ime's doctrine 
 seems to be more favorable to theism, than even the com- 
 mon notions upon this subject ; as it keeps the Deity al- 
 ways in view, not only as the first, but as the constantly • 
 operating efficient cause in nature, and as the great con- 
 necting 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 110. 
 
 MR. LOCKE, in his Essay on Human Understanding, 
 has taken notice of the quickness with which the opera- 
 tions 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 conaection 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 recoi-* 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS*: 4^9 
 
 Icct in his writings, that have any connection with the doc- 
 trines 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 color, e» £". gold, alabaster, or jet, it is eer- 
 •' tain that the idea thereby imprinted in our mind is of a 
 *' flat circle, variously shadowed, with several degrees of 
 " light and brightness coming to our eyes. But we, hav- 
 " ing by use been accustomed to perceive what kind of 
 *' appearance convex bodies are wont to make in us, and 
 " what alterations are made in the reflections of light by 
 *' the difl^erence of the sensible figure of bodies ; the judg- 
 " ment presently, by an habitual custom, alters the appear- 
 '* ances into their causes ; so that, from that which trulv 
 *' is variety of shadow or color, collecting the figure, it 
 •* makes it pass for a mark of figure, and frames to itself 
 ** the perception of a convex figure, and an uniform color ; 
 ** when the idea we receive from thence is only a plane va- 
 ** riously colored ; 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 ccm- 
 •' prehensive of all our senses, conveying to our minds the 
 " ideas of light and colors, which are peculiar only to that 
 " sense, and also the far diff'erent ideas of space, figure, and 
 ** motion, the several varieties whereof change the appear- 
 " ances of its proper object, viz. light and colors, we bring 
 " ourselves by use to judge of the one by the other. This, 
 ** in many cases, by a settied habit in things whereof we 
 ** have frequent experience, is performed so constantly, and \ 
 *' so quick, that we take that for the perception of oursen- 
 " sation, 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 maa 
 '* 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 so 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 in- 
 
480 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 " into an instant. I speak this in comparison to the acJ- 
 *' tions of the body. Any one may easily observe this in 
 ** his own thoughts, who will take the pains to reflect oa 
 " them. How, as it were in an instant, do our minds, with 
 " one glance, ice all parts of a demonstration, which may 
 " very well be called a long one, if we consider the time it 
 " will require to pat it into words, and step by step shew 
 " it to another ? Secondly, we shall not be much surprised 
 *' that this is done in us with so little notice, if we consid- 
 *' er how the facility which we get of domg things by a 
 •' custom of doing, makes them often pass in as without our 
 " notice. Habits, especially such as arc begun very early, 
 '* come at last to produce actions in us, which often escape 
 '* our o'iservation. 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 a bye-word, do almost in every sentence pronounce 
 " 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 no- 
 " tice 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 in- 
 stance, ill a momentary state of total darkness,) deserves 
 to be added to the cases already mentioned, to shew the 
 dependence of memory upon attention. 
 
 NOTE [FJ page 149. 
 
 "_« — PLATONI quid idea sit, peculiari tractatione 
 ^* proiixe excussimus,* quae consuli ab iis debet, qui accu- 
 ** rate totam rti seriem pernoscere cupiunt. Nos pro 
 " prsesentis institati modo paucis notamus, Platoni ideam 
 " non esse illam, qu£e ex contemplaiione objectorura singu* 
 " larium exsurgit notionem jniversalem rique alicujus geft- 
 *' eralem conceptum, quern recentiores ideam vocant, ille 
 ** e^rj vocavit et ab idea distinxit. Sed idese sunt illi essen« 
 ** tialia rerum omnium singulariura exemplaria, avxoa^tat^ 
 *■'' gaudentia, ad quorum naturam indolemque res singularcs 
 
 * Brucker here alludes to bis work, intitled, Historia Philosophica de 
 Ideis ; which I have never had an opportunity of seeing. 
 
N^OTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 481 
 
 " fonrat92 sunt, et quse illis veram certamque atque stabi- 
 " lem essentiana largiuntur. Has ideas ex divina mente 
 ** oriri, inque ea radicari, sua autem propria substantia gau- 
 '* derc, ct esse ctvrus x«/ ovrus ovrx statuit, et circa earum cog- 
 ** nitipnem versari intellectum humanum, in his rerum es- 
 " sentiis separatim et extra mater iam existentibus cognos- 
 '* cendis cardinem verti totius philosophse asseruit. Ridi- 
 " culutn id visum Aristoteli, dari extra m?teriam ejusmodi 
 " essentias universales, quibus res omnes singulares essen- 
 *' tialiter modificarentur, rato, esse hsec rspsna-i^xrix et nugas 
 " otiosi ingenii, Platonemque sine causa rationeque sufii- 
 " cientihsec somnia ex scholis Pythagoreorum, quae istis en- 
 '" tibus personabant, recepisse, suoque intulisse systemati# 
 *' Cum autem negare non auderet, esse in rebus formas es- 
 " sentiales, has ideas, sive formas, qua voce Platonicum 
 " nomen exprimere maluit, materise ab seterno esse impres- 
 " sas, ct 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 150. 
 
 THE Stoics, who borrowed many of their doctrines 
 from the other schools of philosophy, seem, in particular, 
 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 homin- 
 ** em in abstr^cto, adeoque has species et genera rerum non 
 '* natura existere ; cum ueque in hoc neque in alio homine, 
 " ille homo universalis queat ostendi. Inductione itaque 
 *' facta, cum neque hunc, neque illium, neque aluim hom- 
 " inem esse coUigeret, inferebat nullum esse hominem, 
 '* sicque ludendo ambigua hominis in genere sive abstracto, 
 '* uti logici dicunt, & in individuo sive singulari considera- 
 *' ti notione, incautos exagitabat. Altiora tamen hie latere 
 *' putat P. Bayle, et non in solo verborum lusu substitisse 
 *' Stilponem, sed universalia sive prsedicabilia negavissc.— 
 " Neque prorsus est dissimilc, fuisse Stilponem inter eos, 
 
 "NT vr n 
 
432 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIOiJS. 
 
 " qui universalia prseter nuda nomina nihil esse dicerent^ 
 ** quod et cynicos fecisse et alios, alibi docuimus : quorum 
 " partes postea susceperuut Abaelardi sequaces et lotanom- 
 " inaliutn secia." Brucker, vol. i. p. 619. 
 
 NOTE [H,] page 152. 
 
 " SECULO XI. Ruscelinus vel Ruscelinus sacerdos et 
 ** philosophus Cjmpendiensis, ab Aristotele stcessum fe- 
 " cit, et in Stoicorum castra ita transtit, ut statueret, uni- 
 " versalia, nee ante rem, nee in re existere, nee uUam ha- 
 " bere realem existentiam, sad esse nuda nomina et voees, 
 *' quibus rerum smgularium genera denotentur," 
 
 Brucker, Hist, PhtU vol. iii. p. 906- 
 
 *' Dum Porphyrius prudentur quses^tionem ; an universa- 
 *' lia rvera eXistant, omittendam esse censet, de qua inter 
 *' Platonlcos et Stoieos mire decertari novetat occasionem 
 " suppeditavit otioso Roscelini ingenio, earn novo acuminc 
 *' ingenii aggrediendi definiendique." Ibid, t^ol. iii. p. G74. 
 
 Roscelinus was a native of Britanny, and canon of Com- 
 piegne. He is much celebrated, even by his adversaries, 
 for the acuteness and subtilty of his genius, which he dis- 
 played both in scholastical and theological controversy. He 
 was condemned for Tritheism bv a council assembled at 
 Soissons in the year 1092- (See Mosheim's Ecclesiastical 
 History, J It does not appear that he ever taught in Pa- 
 ris, or that he gave public Lectures ; but he had the honor 
 to direct the studies, and to form the philosophical opin- 
 ions 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 mention- 
 ed as an Englishman by Mallet, in his life of Bacon, and 
 by other writers j a mistake into which they have fallen, 
 by confounding Britain with Bretagne. Very litde is 
 known of the particulars of his life. " Primum nominali- 
 *•■ um aiunt fuisse,'' says Leionitz ; " nescio quetn Ruceli- 
 " num Britonem." See his Dissertation de Stylo Philosoph- 
 ico Miirii Niz^lii. 
 
 The opinion of Abelard concerning Universals, is said 
 to have differed, in some respects, from that of his master, 
 *^ Alius consisiit in vocibus/' says John of Salisbury, who 
 was a scholar of Ai^clard, " licet ha3c opinio cum Roscelino 
 ** suo fere omnino jam evanuerit ; alius sermones intueter, 
 ■^ et ad illos detorquct, quicquid alicubi de univeisalibus 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 4S3 
 
 ^ meminit scriptum. In hac autem opinione deprehensufe 
 " est Peripateticus Abelardus noster.'* 
 
 Metalo^. lib. u. c. ir, 
 
 or this difference between the doctrines of Roscelinus 
 and Abelard, I find myself perfectly unable to give any ac- 
 count ; and I am glad to find that MorhofF acknowledges 
 his ignorance upon the same subject. ^' Alii fuerunt, qui 
 ** universalia qusesiverunt,gnon tarn in vocibus quam in ser- 
 *' monibus integris ; quod Joh. Sarisberiensis adscribit Pe* 
 *' tro Abelardo ; quo quid intelhgat ille, mihi non satis li- 
 " quet." Polyhist* torn. ii. lib. i. cap. 13, § 2. 
 
 Absurd as these controversies may now appear, such 
 was the prevailing taste of the twelfth century, that they se- 
 duced the young and aspiring mind of Abelard from all the 
 other pursuits which Europe then presented to his ambi- 
 tion. — '"• Ut militaris gloriae pompam," says he, " cum hae- 
 *' reditate et prcerogauva primogenitorum meorum fratri- 
 ** bus derelinquens, Martis curiae penitus abdicarem, ut Mi- 
 *' r«;r\ae gremio educarer." Hist. Calam. Suar. c. I. 
 
 Amoag the literary men of this period, none seems to 
 have arisen to such an eminent superiority above his age, 
 in the liberality of his philosophical views, as John of Sal- 
 isbury, the celebrated friend of archbishop Btd^et. In his 
 youth he had studied at Paris under Abelard and other 
 eminent masters, and had applied himself, with distinguish-^ 
 ed ardor and succes, 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 curiosi- 
 ty to revisit the scene of his early studies, and to compare his 
 own acquisitions with those of his old companions. The 
 account which he gives of this visit is stiikingly character- 
 istical, both of the writer and of his age: " Invcnti sunt, 
 '* qui fuerant, et ubi : neque enim ad palmam visi sunt pro^ 
 ** cessisse ad quaestiones pristinas dirimendas, neque propo- 
 '* sitiunculam unam adjecerant. . Expertus 
 
 " itaque sum, quod liquido colligi potest, quia sicut dialec- 
 " tica alias expedit disciplinas, sic, si sola fuerir, jacet ex- 
 sanguis et sterilis. &c." Metalo^. 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 laboran* 
 " mundusjam senuit, in qua plus ten)poris consumptumest 
 ** quam in acquirendo et regendo orbis imperio consum- 
 
484 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 « serit Ceesarea domus : plus efFusum pecuniae, quam in 
 ** omnibus divitiis suis posscderit Croesus. Hasc enim 
 " tamdiu multos tenuit, ut cum hoc unum tota vita quaere- 
 " rent, tandem nee istud, nee aliud invenirent." 
 
 De Nugis Curialium, lib, vii. cap. 12. 
 
 NOTE [I,] page 167. • 
 
 *' SECTA nominalium, omnium inter scholasticas 
 
 ** profundissima, et hodiernae reformaiae philosophandi ra 
 *' tioni congruentissima ; quae quum olim maxima floreret 
 '* nunc apud scholasticos quidem, extincta est. Unde con 
 **jicias decrementa potius quam augmenta acuminis 
 " Quum autem ipse Nizolius noster se Nominalem exser 
 " te profitere non dubitet prope finem capitis sexti, libri 
 ** primi ; et vero in realitate formalitatum et universalium 
 * evertenda ncrvus disputationis ejus omnis potissimum 
 *' contineatur pauca quaedam de Nominalibus subjicere ope- 
 " rae pretium duxi. Nominalcs sunt, qui omnia putant cs- 
 " se nuda nomina praecer substantias singulares, abstracto- 
 " rum igitur et universalium realitatem prorsus tollunt. 
 " Primum autem nominalium aiunt fuisse nescio quem Ru- 
 ** cellinum 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 sevo summae, 
 *' Wilhelmus Occam Anglus, Scoti discipulus, sed mox 
 *' oppugnator maximus, de improviso eam resuscitavit ; 
 *' consensereGregorius Ariminensis, Gabr. Biel, et plerique 
 ** ordinis Augustinianorum, unde et in Martini Lutheri 
 '* scriptis prioribus amor nominalium satis elucet, donee 
 '* procedente tempore erga omnes monachos aequaliier af- 
 ** fectus esse coepit. Generalis autem regula est, qua nom- 
 *' inales passim utuntur ; entia non esse multiplicanda 
 " praeter necessitatcm, Hsec regula ab aliis passim oppug- 
 *' natur, quasi injuria in divinam ubertatem, liberalem poti- 
 " us quam parcam, et varietate ac copia rerum gaudeatem. 
 '' Sed, qui sic objiciunt, non satis mihi nominalium men- 
 *' tem cepisse videntur^ quae, 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 agit, eo ipso naturam, aut potius autorem ejus 
 ^^ Deum ineptae superfluitatis accusat. Si quis astronomus 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 4S5 
 
 '* rationem phenomenorum ccelestium reddere potest paucis 
 " suppositis, meris nimirum mutibus simplicibus circular i- 
 *' bus, ejus certe hypothesis ejus hypothesi praeftirtuda eril, 
 " qui multis orbibus varie implexis ad explicanda ccelestia 
 *' indiget. Ex hac jam regula nominales deduxerunt, om- 
 " nia in rerum natura explicari posse, eisi universalibus et 
 *' formalitatibus realibus prorsus careatus ; qua sententia 
 *' nihil verius, nihil nostri temporis philosopho dignius, us- 
 " que adeo, ut credain ipsum Occamum non tuisse nomin- 
 *' aliorem quam nunc est Thomas Hobbes, qui, ut verum 
 " fatear, mihi, plusquam nominalis videtur. Non conten- 
 '* tus enim cum nominalibus universalia ad nomina reduce- 
 " re, ipsam rerum veritatem aii in nominidus consistere, ac, 
 *' quod majus est, pendere ab arbitrio humano, quia Veritas 
 " pendeat a definitionibus terminorum, defioitiones autem 
 ^' terminorum ab arbitrio humano, Haec est senteniia viri 
 " inter profundissimos seculi censendi, qua, ut dixi, nihil 
 *' potest esse nominahus." 
 
 This passage from Leibnitz has given rise to a criticism 
 of MorhofF, which appears to me to be extremely ill-found- 
 ed. — " Accenset nominalibus" (says he,) ** Leibnitzius 
 *' Thomam Hobbesium, quem ille ipso Occamo nominalio- 
 *' rem, et plusquam nominalem vocat, qui non contentus 
 " cum nominalibus universalia ad nomina reducere, ipsam 
 *' rerum veritatem ait in nominibus consistere, ac quod ma- 
 ** jus est, pendere ab arbitrio humano. Quae bella ejus 
 " sententia, quamquam laudat eam Leibnitzius, monstri 
 " aliquid alit, ac plane nequam est. Immania enim ex uno 
 " summo paradoxo fluunt absurda." 
 
 MoRHoF. Folyhistor. vol. ii. page 81. 
 
 I shall not at present enter into a particular examination 
 of the doctrine here ascribed to Hcbbes, which I shall 
 have occasion to consider afterwards under the article of 
 Reasoning. I cannot, however, help remarking that noth- 
 ing 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 cxpresr.ion (" qui ut verum fatear, 
 mihi plus quam nofuinalis videtur") plainly implies a cen- 
 sure of Hobbt 's philosophy ; and in another dissertation, 
 intitled, Med'itationes de Cognitione^ Ferifate^ et Meis^ he is 
 at pains directly to refute this part of hia svsiem : — *^ Ai- 
 ** que ita habemus quoque discrimen inter definitiones nom- 
 " inales,qua2 notas tantumreiab aliis disceruendse continent, 
 
485 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 '* et reales, ex quibus constat rem esse possibilem, et hac 
 *' ratione satisfit Hobbio qui v. ritates volebat esse arbitra- 
 '* rias, qui exdefirjitionibasnonainalibus penderent^ non con- 
 " siderans realitarem dcfinitionis in arbitrio non esse, nee 
 " quaslibet notiones inter se posse conjungi. Nee defini- 
 " tiones nr.minales sufficiunt ad perfectam scientam, nisi 
 '* quando aliunde constat rem definitam esse possibilem, 
 « &c. &c." 
 
 Leibnitzii Opera^ Edit, Dutens^ torn. ii. p. 16, 17. 
 
 NOTE [K,] page 173. 
 
 *' To form a clear notion of truth, it is very necessary to 
 ^* consider truth of thoughc, and truth of words, distinctly 
 " one from another ; but yet it is very difficult to treat of 
 ** them asunder : because it is unavoidable, in treating of 
 " mental propositions, to make use of words : 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 consideration of the 
 " ideas, as they are in our minds stripped of names, they 
 " lose the nature purely mental propositions, as soon as they 
 ** are put into words. 
 
 " And that vvhich makes it yet harder to treat of mental 
 " and verbal propositions separately, is that most men, if 
 '*noiall, in their thinki ig and reasonings within them- 
 ** selves, make use of words instead of ideas, at least when 
 " the sul)ject of their meditation contains in it complex 
 " ideas." Locke, 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. 
 
 " 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 
 " signs of our ideas put together or separated in affirmative 
 " or negative sentences, &c." Ibid. § 5. 
 
 " Though the examining and judging of ideas by ihem- 
 " 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 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 487 
 
 " 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 propositions so ne- 
 « cessary a part of the treatise of knowledge, 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, rhe latter can never be well made 
 " known, and is very seldom apprehended, but as conceiv- 
 ** ed and expressed in words.'' Book iv. c. 6. § 1,2. 
 
 From thase 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. Plis opinion therefore did not coincide 
 with that which I have ascribed to 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 
 same with Berkley's, had not the foregoing quotations con- 
 tained 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 re- 
 *' al existence of things, but are inventions and creatures of 
 '* the understanding, made by it for its own use, and con- 
 *' cern 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 particu- 
 *' lar things ; and ideas are general, when they are set up 
 *'' as the representatives of many particular things ; but uni- 
 *' versality belongs not to things themselves, which are all 
 ** of them particular in their existence ; even those words 
 " and ideas whicli in their signification are general. When, 
 " therefore, we quit parriculars, the generalb 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 partic- 
 *' lars. For the signification they have, is nothing but a 
 *' relation that by the mind of man is added to ihem." 
 
 Book iii. c. 3. § 11. 
 
483 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 On the whole, it is evident, that Mr. Locke was neithet 
 completely satisfied with the doctrine of the Nominalists, 
 nor with that of the Kealists ; and therefore I think it is 
 with good reason, that Dr. Reid has classed him with the 
 Conceptualists. 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 philoso- 
 phy by the Author of Martinus Scriblerus, although cen* 
 sured for unfairness by Dr. Warburton, is almost justified 
 by some of his expressions. 
 
 NOTE [L,] page 180. 
 
 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 considere 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 I'application pour les charactere, et 
 •' pour la langue, n'est point conforme a ce'qu'on pouvoit 
 *' et devoit faire. J'avois considerecette matiere avant le 
 " livre de Monsieur Wilkins, quand j'etcis un jeune homme 
 ** de dix neuf ans, dans mon petit livre de arte combinatorial 
 ** et mon opinion est que ces characteres veritablement reels 
 *' h. philosophiques doivent repondre a I'analyse des pen- 
 ** sees. 11 est vray que ces characteres presupposent la 
 " veritable philosophic, 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 
 -* veritablement philosophique ne sont que pour excuser 
 *' rim perfection de leurs essais, et marquent seulcment Ics 
 " difficnltes 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 1744. The person mentioned by 
 Leibnitz under the name of M. Dalgarus, was evidently 
 George Dalgarno, a native of Aberd.^en, and author of a 
 small and very rare book, intitled, *"• Ars Signoritm. vulgo 
 *' c/iaracter tmiversalis et lingua phihsojjhicay qua poterunt^ 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 489 
 
 " homines diversissimorum idiomatum^ spatio duarunt septi- 
 *' manarum, omnia animi sui sensa^ fm rebusfamiliaribus^J 
 " non minus intelligibiliter^ sive scribendo^ sive loquendo^ 
 " mutuo commumcare^ quam Unguis propriis vernaculis, 
 *' Prceterea^ hinc etiam poterunt juvenes^ philosophice princi' 
 *-^ pia^ et veram logicce praxin^ citius etfacilius multo im^ 
 " bibere^ quam ex vulgaribus philosophorum scrtptis.'''' 
 
 It is very remarkable that this work of Dalgarno is nev- 
 er (at least as far as I recollect) mentioned by Wilkins ,• 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 the royal favour. 
 
 The treatise de Arte Combinatoria is published in the se- 
 cond 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 ikis 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 
 and Dr. Campbell, in the passages already quoted from them 
 in this section. The performance is entitled, Meditationes 
 de Cogmtione^ Veritate £sf Idets^ and is printed in the second 
 volume of Dutens' edition. 
 
 *• Plerumque autem, prsesertim in analyst longiore, non 
 " totam simul naturam rei intucmur, sed rerum loco signis 
 *' utimur, quorum explicationem in prsesenti aliqua cogita- 
 *' tione compendii causa solemus prsetermittere, scientes, 
 *' aut credentes nos eam habere in protestate : ira cum chi- 
 " liogonum,seu pollygonum mille eaqualium laterum cogito, 
 '^ non semper naturam lateris, et sequalitatis, et millenarii 
 *' (seu cubi a denario) considero, sed vocabulis istis (quo- 
 " rum sensus obscure saltern, atque imperfecte menti ob- 
 *' versatur) in animo utor loco idearum, quas de iis habeo, 
 '* quoniam memini me significationem istorum vocabulorum 
 *' habere, explicationem autem nunc judico necessariam non 
 *' esse ; qualem cogiiationem csecam, vel etiam symbolicam 
 *' appeliare solec, qua et in algebra, et in arithmetica utimur, 
 *' imo fere ubique. Et certe cum notio ralde composita 
 *' est, non possumus omnes ingredientes eam notiones simul 
 *' cogitare : ubi tamen hoc licet, vel saltem in quantum licet, 
 *^ cognitionem voco iniuitivam. Notionis distinctae pri- 
 *' miiivse non alia datur cognitio, quam intuitiva, ut com- 
 " positarum plerumque cogitatio non nisi svmbolica est. 
 Ooo 
 
490 NOTE^ AND ILLLUSTRATIONS: 
 
 " Ex his jam patet, nos eoruna quoque, quse distincte 
 *•* cognoscimus, ideas non precipere, nisi quatenus cogita- 
 *' tione intuitiva utimur. Et sane contingit, ut nos ssepe 
 " falso credames habern in animo ideas rerum, cum falso 
 *' supponimus aliquos terminos, quibus utimur, jam a no- 
 '' bis fuisse explicatos : nee verum aat certe ambiguitati 
 " obnoxium est, quod aiunt aliqui, non posse nos de re ali- 
 " qua dicere, intelligendo quod dicimus, quin ejus habea- 
 " mus ideam. Ssepe enim vocabula ista singula atcunque 
 " intelligimus, aut nos antea intellixisse meminimus, quia 
 " tamen hac cogitatione caeca contenti sumus, et resolution- 
 " em notionum non satis prosequimur, fit ut laieat nos con- 
 " tradictio, quam forte notio composita involvit." 
 
 NOTE [M,]page 199. 
 
 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 pcrfectionnemens successifs de I'espece 
 " humaine un exemple pris dans les sciences ou la marche 
 ** de la verite est la plus sure, ou elle peuj etre mesuree 
 *' avec plus de precision. Ces verites elementaries de ge- 
 ometric et d'astronomie qui avoient eie dans I'lnde et 
 ' dans I'Egypte une doctrine occulte, sur laquelle des pre- 
 ^^ tres ambitieux avoient fonde leur empire^ etoient dans la 
 ^^ Grece, au temps d'Archimede ou d'Hipparquf, des con- 
 ^j noissances vulgaises enseignees dans les ecolcs com- 
 ^^ munes. Dans Ic siecle dernier, il suffisoit de quelques 
 n annees d'eiude pour savoir tout ce qu'Archimede et Hip- 
 it parque avoient pu connoitre ; et aujourd'hui deux annees 
 a deTenseignement d'un professeur vont au-dela de ce que 
 u savoient Leibnitz ou Newton. Qu'on medite cet exem- 
 pt pie, qu'on saisisse cette chaine qui s'etend d'une pretre 
 a de Memphis a Euler, et remplit la distance immense qui 
 t' les separe ; qu'on observe a chaque epoque la genie de- 
 u van^ant le siecle, present, et la mediocrite atteignant a 
 ^^ ce qu'il avoit decouvert dans celui qui precedoii, on ap- 
 ^j prendra que la nature nous a donnc les moyens d'eparg- 
 ^^ ner le temps et de menager I'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 pariiciilicres, de faits isoles commencent a. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS- 491 
 
 ** epuiser I'attention, a fatiguer la memoire, ces theories 
 *' dispersees viennent se perdredanj* une methode generale, 
 " tous Lis faits se reunir dans un fait unique, et que ces 
 " generalizations, ces reunions repetees n'ont, conrime les 
 " multiplications successives d'un nombre par lui-meme, 
 " d'autre limite qu'um infini auquel il est impossible d'at- 
 " teindre." 
 
 Sur P Instruction publique^ par M. Condorcet. 
 
 Continuation of Note [M.] C Second Edition. J 
 
 HOW 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 Perfeciibiiity of Man, 
 and its probable effect in banishing from the earth. Vice, 
 Disease, and Mortality ! Surely they who can reconcile 
 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 Philo- 
 sophical 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 govern- 
 ed by chance or by a blind destiny,overlooksthe beneficentar- 
 rangement 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 experience of 
 mankind, treats with ridicule the supposed tendency of 
 truth and justice to prevail finally over falsehood and ini- 
 quity. If the doctrine which encourages these favorable 
 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 visiona- 
 ary, leads, by a short and inevitable process, to the conclu- 
 sions either of the Arhrist 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 princi- 
 
492 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 pies and their hopes : But what must be the opinions and 
 the views of those, who, during these storms and convul- 
 sions of the Moral World, find at once, in the apparent ret- 
 rogradation of Human Keason, the gratification of their 
 Political Ambition, and the secret triumph of ihcir Scep- 
 tical Theories ? 
 
 Fond, impious Man ! Think' st thou yon Sanguine Cloud, 
 
 Rais'd by thy breath has quench'd the Orb of Day ? 
 
 To-niorrovv, he repairs the golden flood, 
 
 And warms the Nations with redoubled rayt 
 
 NOTE [N,] page 222. 
 
 IT may be proper to remark, that under the title oiOccori' 
 cmists, I comprehend not merely the disciples of ^uesnai, 
 but all those writers in France, who, about the same time 
 with him, began to speculate about the natural order of 
 political 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 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 subject, leave 
 us much room to regret that he had not leisure to execute 
 a work, which he appears to have long meditated, on the 
 principles of moral and political philosophy. 
 
 Pie de M. Turcot. Partie ii. p. 5Z. 
 It is merely for want of a more convenient expression 
 that I have distinguished these different writers by the ti- 
 tle of OcconomisU* It is in this extensive sense that the 
 %vord is commonly imderstood in this country ; but I am 
 sensible that it is somewhat ambiguous, and that, without 
 the explanation which I have given, some of my observa- 
 tions might have been supposed to imply a higher admira- 
 tion dian I ieally entertain of the writings of M. Quesnai, 
 and of the affected phras'rology employed by his sect. 
 
 The connection between M. Turgot and M. Quesnai, 
 and the coincidence of their opinions about the most essen- 
 tial principles of legislation, will I hope justify me for rank- 
 ing the former with the Oeconomists j although his views 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 493 
 
 seem to have been much more enlarged than those of his 
 contemporaries ; and ahhough he expressly disclaimed an 
 implicit acquiescence in the opinions of any particular sect. 
 " M. Turgot etudia la doctrine de M. Gournay et de 
 " M. Quesnai, en profita, se la rendit propre , et la com- 
 *' binant avec la connoissance qu^il avoit du Droit, & avec 
 *' les grandes vues de legislation civile & criminelle qui a- 
 " voient occupe sa tete & interesse son coeur, parvint a en 
 " former sur le gouvernement des nations un corps de prin- 
 " cipes a lui, embrassent les deux autres, et plus complet 
 
 Memoires sur la Vie et les Ouvrages de M. Turcot, 
 par M. DupoNT, p> 40, 41. 
 " II a passe pour avoir ete attache a plusieurs sectes, ou' 
 ** a plusieurs sociefes qu'on appelait ainsi ; et les amis ilou 
 ** avait dans ces societes diverses lui reprochaient sons ces- 
 " se de n'etre pas de leur avis ; & sans cesse il leur repro- 
 " chait de son cote de vouloir faire communaute d'opin- 
 " ions, & de se rendre solidaires les uns pour les autres. 
 " II croyait cette marche propre a retarder les progres 
 " memes de leurs decouvertes." Ibid. p. 41, 43. 
 
 NOTE [O,] page 306. 
 
 THE foregoing observations on the state of the mind in 
 sleep, and on the phenomena of rdeaming, were written as 
 long ago as the year 1772; and were read (nearly in the 
 form in which they now are published) in the year 1773, in 
 a private literary society in this university. A considera- 
 ble number of years afterwards, at a time when I was oc- 
 cupied with very different pursuits, I happened, in turning 
 over an old volume of thebcots Magazine, (the volume for 
 the year 1749,) to meet with a short essay on the same sub- 
 ject, which surprised me by its coincidence with some ideas 
 which had formerly occurred to me. I have reason to be- 
 lieve 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 au- 
 thor was Mr. Thomas Mtlville, a gentleman who died at 
 the early age of 27 ; and whose ingenious observations on 
 light and colors (published in the Essays of the Edinburgh 
 Philosophical Society) are well known over Europe. 
 
494 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The passages which coincide the most remarkably v/ith 
 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 1 have the misfor- 
 tune to differ from some of my friends. 
 
 *' 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 conceiv- 
 " ing or imagining myself to walk up the High-street, in re- 
 "■ lating, 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 imagination is 
 *• entirely similar to those of sensation, though not so strong 
 *' and durable, 
 
 " In this last instance, while the imagination lasts, be itev- 
 " er 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 beliej in this case ; because the 
 " perception is not clear or steady being ever disturbed, 
 ** and soon dissipated, by the superior stsength of intruding 
 *' sensation : yet nothing can be more absurd than to say, 
 ** thai a man may, in the same individual instant, believe he 
 " is in one place, and imagine he is in another. No man 
 *' can demonstrate that the objects of sense exists without 
 ^' him ; we are conscious of nothing but our own sensa- 
 ** tions : however, by the uniformity, regularity, consisten- 
 " cy, and steadiness ot the impressioa, we are led to be- 
 *' lieve, 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 be- 
 '* lief; 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 inten- 
 *' ded to obviate an objection that might be brought against 
 *' the similarity of dreaming and imagination, from our be- 
 *' lieving in sleep that all is real. But there is one fact, 
 " that plainly sets them both on a parallel, that in sleep we 
 '* often recollect that the scenes which we behold are a 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 495 
 
 ** mere dream, in the same manner as a person awake is 
 " habitually convinced that the representations of his ima- 
 " gination are fictitious." 
 
 <■' In this essay we m^ke no inquiry into the state of 
 
 " the body in sleep/' 
 
 '* if the operations of the mind in sleep can be fair- 
 
 <* ly 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 unknown, 
 *' 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 easi- 
 '* er of access, by pursuing and extending the analogies of 
 « nature." 
 
 On looking over the same essay, I find an observation 
 which I stated as my own m page 135 of this work. " The 
 •* mere imagination of a tender scene in a romance, or dra- 
 " ma, 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 influence 
 " on the human mind." 
 
 Continuation of Note [O.] C^^cond Edit? on J 
 
 SOON after the publication of the First Edition of this 
 Work, a difficulty was started to roe with respect to my 
 conclusions concerning the state of the mind ?n sleep, by 
 my excellent friend .vir. 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 in- 
 debted for much pleasure and instruction. The same dif- 
 ficulty was proposed to me, nearly about the same time, by 
 another friend (then at a very early period of life,) who has 
 since honorably distinguished himself by his observa- 
 tions on Dr. Darwin's Zoonomia ; the first fruits of a phi- 
 losophical genius, which, I trust, is destined for yet more 
 important undertakings.* 
 
 # Observations on the Zoonomia of Dr Darwin. By Thomas Brown, 
 Esq. Edinburgh, 1798. 
 
496 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS, 
 
 As Mr. Prevost has, in the present instance, kindly aid- 
 ed me in the task of removing his own objection, I shall 
 take the liberty to borrow his words : 
 
 ** Sans Taction de hi Volonte point d'effort d'attention. 
 " Sans quelque effort d'attention point de Souvenir. Dans 
 « le Sommeil, I'actione de la Volonte est suspendue. Cora- 
 " ment done reste t-il quclque Souvenir des Songes? 
 
 " Je vois hien deux ou trois responses 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'etoitpas parfait ,• ou que Taction 
 ** de la Volonte qui suffit pour le Souvenir n'est pas suspen- 
 ** due dans le Sommeil ; que ce degre d'activite reste a 
 '* Tame ; que ce n'est, pour ainsi, dire, qu* une Volonte 
 ** elemcntaire 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 
 reconcilti completely the apparent inconsistency. The gen- 
 eral conclusions, at the same time, to which I have been 
 led, seem t9 result so necessarily from the facts I have sta- 
 ted, that even although the difficulty in question should re- 
 main for the present unsolved, it would not, in my opinion, 
 materially aflfect 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 
 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 ot the local cir- 
 cumstances by which, in particular cases, the effect is mod- 
 ified) to give a satisfactory explanation. 
 
 Of the solutions suggested by Mr. Prevost, the first co- 
 incides most nearly with my own opinion ; and it approach- 
 es to what I have hinted (in page 133 of this work) con- 
 cerning 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 1 have happen- 
 ed to meet with) who never recollect to have dreamed, ex- 
 cepting when the soundness of their sleep was disturbed by 
 some derangement in their general health, or by some acci- 
 dent which excited a bodily sensation. 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 49r 
 
 Another solution of the difficulty might perhaps be de- 
 rived from the facts (stated in pp. 197", 198, of this volume) 
 which prove " that a perception^ or an idea, which passes 
 " through the mind, without leaving any traoe in ihe menfi- 
 " cry, 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 
 ws after we awake, it might (without our exerting during 
 sleep that attention which is essential to memo>y) revive 
 the same concatenation of particulars with which it was 
 formerly accompanied. And what is a dream^ but such 
 a concatenation of seeming events presenting itself to the 
 imagination during our waking hours ; the origin cf which 
 we learn by experience to refer to that interval which is 
 employed in sleep ; — finding it impossible to conect 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 ©f the preceding day. 
 
 Another cause, it must be owned, presents an Obstacle to 
 such efforts of recollection ; and is, perhaps, adequate of it- 
 self to explain the fact. During the day, we have many 
 aids to memory which are wanting in sleep (those, in par- 
 ticular, which are furnished by the objects of our external 
 senses ;) and of these aids we never fail to avail ourselves, 
 in attencpting to recollect the thoughts in which the day 
 has been spent. We consider, m what place we were at 
 a particular time, and what persons and things we ihete 
 saw ; endeavoring thus to lay hold of our intellectual pro- 
 cesses, by means of the sensible objects with which they 
 were associated : and yet, with all these advantages, the 
 account which most men are able give of their meditations 
 at the close cf a long summer's dd\, will not be found to 
 require many sentences. As in sleep, our communication 
 with the external world is completely interrupted, it is not 
 sui prising, that the memory of our dreams should be much 
 more imperfect than that of our waking th'Ughts ; even 
 supposing us to bestow, at the moment, an equal degree uf 
 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 
 iheir perceptions, while under -the influence of this disor- 
 
498 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 den If the principles I have endeavored to establish be 
 just, tiiis is a necessary consequence of their inattention to 
 what then pa ses around them ; an inattention of which no- 
 body can doubt» who has had an opportunity of witnessing 
 the vacant, and unconscioos stare which their eyes exhibit. 
 The same fact illusirates strongly the suspension, during 
 sleep, of those voluntary powers, to which the operations 
 both of mind and body are at other times subjected. 
 
 These consi:ierations derive additional evidence from a 
 GO'.nmon remark, thar idle people are most apt to dream, 
 or, at least, to recollect dieir dreams. The thoughts of the 
 busy and of the studious are directed by their habitual oc- 
 cupations into a particular channel ; and the spontaneous 
 course of their ideas is checked, and turned aside, by the 
 unremitted activity of their minds. In the heedless and 
 dissipated, the thoughts wander carelessly from object to 
 object, according to the oovious 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 present- 
 ed to them m the course of the f jllowing 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 com- 
 paring the pht-nomena of dreaming with the general prin- 
 ciples to which I have endeavored to referthem. In cases 
 where our dreams are occasioned by bodily sensations, or 
 by bodily indisposition, it may be expected that the distur- 
 bed state of our rest will prevent th?t total cessation of the 
 power of attention, which takes place when sleep is pro- 
 found and complete j and, in such instances, the attention 
 which is given to our passing thoughts, may enable us af- 
 terwards to retrace them bv an act ot recollection. On the 
 other hand, the more general fact imquestionablv is, that at 
 the moment of our awaking, the interval spent in sleep pre- 
 sents a total blank to the memory ; and vet, it happens not 
 unfrequently, ^hat, at the distance of hours, some acciden- 
 tal circumstance occurring to our thoughts, or suggested to 
 us from without, revives a long train of particulars associa- 
 ted in the mind widi each other j to which train (not being 
 able to account otheiwise for the concatenation of its parts) 
 vre give the pame of a Dream, 
 
 After all, I am very far 'from supposing that I have ex- 
 hausted this subject ; and I shall be fully satisfied with the 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 499 
 
 success of my inquiries, if those who are qualified to dis- 
 tinguish between legitimate and hypothetical theories shall 
 admit, that I have pointed out the plan on which these phe- 
 nomena should be studied, and have made so>r;e progress, 
 (how small soever) towards its execution. Much addition- 
 al 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 posssible, to the modes of speaking 
 employed by my predecessors in describing our mental op- 
 erations. 
 
 One remark I must beg leave to recommend to the con- 
 sideration of thorie 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 momtnt 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 
 spontaneously solicits our notice ? The only difference is, 
 that in the latter instance, in consequence of long and con- 
 stant familiarity, they are surveyed by all with little won- 
 der, and by roost with hardly any attention. In the for- 
 mer instance, they rouse the curiosity of the most illiterate, 
 from their comparative infrequency, and from the contrast 
 which, in some respects, iht-y present to the results of our 
 
 habitual experirnce. It is thus, that a peasant who has 
 
 been accustomed from his infancy to see, withotit any emo- 
 tion, 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 r 
 tendency to produce two moral effects equally beneficial. 
 The one is to illustrate the unity of design in nature, by 
 reconciling vyhat seems, from \u rarity or singularity, to be 
 mysterious or incomprehensible, with the general laws 
 which are familiarised to us by daily experience ; the oth- 
 er, 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 a- 
 nomalous applications. 
 
 The phenomena of Dreaming may perhaps, in this last 
 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 
 
500 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 which it is so apt to be withdrawn by that external world, 
 which affords the first, and (for the comnnon purposes of 
 life) the most interesting field for their exercise. In my 
 own case, at least, this supposition has been exacily verifi- 
 ed ; as the speculations concerning the human mind which 
 I have ventured to present to the public, i^ll took their rise 
 from the subject to which this note refers. The observa- 
 tions which I have stated with respect to it iu the text (ex- 
 cepting a very few paragraphs since added) were written at 
 the age of eighteen, and formed a part of the first philo- 
 sophical essay which I recollect to have attempted. I'he 
 same essay contained the substance of w^iat I have introdu- 
 ced in cha,)ter 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 professionally, at the distance of man\ years, to resume 
 the same studies, this short manuscript was almost the on- 
 ly memorial I had preserved of these favorite pursuits of 
 niy early youth ; and from the views which it recalled to 
 me, insensibly arose the Analvsis 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 
 bighlv probable I may magnify the importance beyond 
 their just value. The situation of a public teacher, (I must 
 beg leave to add,) by Igiving an immediate circulation to 
 the doctrines he delivers, exposes him to many inconven- 
 iences which other classes of literary men have in their pow- 
 er to avoid. 
 
 Before concluding these remarks, I cannot help remind- 
 ing my readers once more, that my fundamental principle 
 with respect to the state of the mind in sleep is, — not that 
 the power of volition is then suspended ; but, thai the infu- 
 ence of thewillov^Y iV.G i^cuKiiis both of mind and body 
 is then interrupted. (See pp. 290, 291, 292, 293.) I men- 
 tion this chiefly, in order to mark the difference between ' 
 my doctrine and that maintained in Dr. Darwin's Zoono- 
 mia* According to this ingenious writer, " the power of 
 *' volition is totally suspended in perfect sleep." (Zoono- 
 mia, vol. }. p. 3 15.) — '' In the hicubus*' (he observes,) '' the 
 *'• desire of moving the body is painfully exerted j but th^ 
 
NOTES AND ILLCSTRATIONS. 501 
 
 " power of moviJig it^ or volition, h incapable of action till 
 '* we awake." (p. 288.) Would he no- have stated the 
 fact more correctly, il he had B2iu\\\\^x. volition is painfully 
 exerted ; but that the power of moving the body is suspttn- 
 ded ? In the very accurate phraseology of Mr. Locke, 
 *' volition is an act of the mind, knowingly exerting that 
 " dominion it takes itself to hive over any part of the men, 
 *' by employing it in, or withholding it from any particular 
 '•action." This act of the mind, Dr. D:irwin expresses by 
 the word desire ; an indistinctness still extremely common 
 among metaphysical writers ; although it was long ago re- 
 marked and censured by the eminent author jasr quoted: 
 *' I find" 'says Locke,) " the xvill ofcen confoundt-d 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 30r. 
 
 Dr. REID has with great truth, observed, that Des Cartes"' 
 reasoning against the existence '.f the secondary qualities 
 of matter, owe all their plausibility to the ambiguity of 
 words. — When he affirms, for example that the smell of a 
 rose is not in the flower but in the mind, his proposition 
 amounts only to this, that the rose is not conscious of the 
 sensation of smell : but it does not follow from Des C^^rtes* 
 reasonings, that there is no quality in the rose which ex- 
 cites the sensation of smell in th" mind ; — which is all that 
 any person means when he speaks of the sn^ell of that flow- 
 er. For the word smelL like the names of all secondary 
 qualities, signifies two things, a sensation in the mind, and 
 the unknown quality which fits it to excite that sensation.* 
 
 * Some judicious remarks on this ambiguity in the names of secondary 
 qualities, are made by Malebranche : 
 
 " It is only (says he) since the time of Des Cartes, that those; confused 
 *' and indetermina'e questions, whether fire is hot, grass green, and sugar 
 *' sweet, phihtsophers are in use to answer, b> distinguishing thv.- equivocal 
 '* meaning of tlie words expressing sensible quahties It by heat, cold, and 
 *' savour, yau understand such and such a disposition of parts, or some un- 
 «' known motion of insensible particles, than fire is hot, grass green, and 
 *• sugar sweet. But if by hear and other qualities you understand what I 
 ** ftel by fire, what I see in grass, &.c. fire is not hot, nor gra^s gteen ; for 
 " the heat I feel, and the colours 1 see, are only in th? soul.'* 
 
m NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The same remark applies to that process of reasoning by 
 which Des Caries attempts to prove that there is no hvtat in 
 the fire. 
 
 All this, I think, will he 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 
 Dcs (yat tes' Jrictrine, when cleared of that air of mystery 
 which it derives from the arahiguity of words, differs very 
 little if at all, from (he commouly received notions. But 
 the case seems to be different with respect to colours^ of the 
 nature of which -he vulgar are apt to form a very confused 
 conception, which the philosophy of D a Cartes has a ten- 
 dency t'j correct. Dr. Rtid has jusdy distinguished the 
 quality of colour from what he calls the appearance of col- 
 our, which last can only exist in a mmd*. Now I am dis- 
 posed to believe, that when the vulgar speak of colour, they 
 commonly mean the appearance of colour, or rather they 
 associate the appearance and its cause so intimately togeth- 
 er, that they find it impossible to think of them separately.! 
 The senaarion of colour never f(jrms one simple object of 
 attention to (he 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 im- 
 posiible to conceive colour without extension, though cer- 
 tainly there is no more necessary connection between them, 
 than between extension and smell. 
 
 * Dr. Akens'de, inoneof hisNotes onhUPLEAsuiiEs of Imagination, 
 observes, that colours, as apprehended by the mind, dt> not exist in the body. 
 By trti'^ qualUicatiou, he piainly means lo dib niguish what Dr. Reid calls the 
 appearance of colour, from colour considered as a qualiry of matter- 
 
 + Dr. Reid is of opinion, that the vulgar always ipean to express by the 
 ■word colow, a quality, and not a sensation. '■ Colour (says he) differs from 
 *' other secondary qnaluiesin 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 "^ensa- 
 '♦ tion but to the quility oiily." This question is of no consequence for us 
 to discuss at present, as Dr. Reid acknowledges in the following passage, rliat 
 the sensation and quality are so intima ely united togc her in the mind, that 
 they seem to f >rm only one simple object of thought. *' When we think 
 *' or speak f any particular colour, however simple the notion may seem to 
 '* be which is preseared to the imagination, it is really in some sort com- 
 " pounded ; it involves an unknown cause and a known effect. The name 
 '• of co/yur belongs indeed to the cause only, and not to the effect. But as 
 '* the cause is unkno vn, we can form no distinct conception of it, but by its 
 ** relatioH to the known effect. And therefore both go together in the im- 
 " agination, and are so closely united that they are mistaken fjr one simple 
 ^' object of thought.'* Inquiry into (be Human Mind, chap, vi. sect, 4, 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 50S 
 
 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. Keid's language) the ap- 
 pearance 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 very familiarly conversant with philosophical inquir- 
 ies. — 1 find, at least, that such is the notion which most 
 readily presents itself to my own mind. 
 
 Nor is this reference ot the sensation, or appearance of 
 colour, to an external object, a face altogether singular in 
 our constitution. It is extremely analogous to the reference 
 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 natural- 
 ly say, that 1 feel pain in my hand. The philosophical 
 truth is, that I perceive the cause of the pain to be applied 
 to that part of my body. The sensation itself I cannot re- 
 fer 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- 
 sideratioli, occurs in those sensations of touch which we 
 refer to a place beyond the limits of the body ; as in the case 
 of pain felt in an amputated limb. 
 
 The very mtimate 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 ebt tres evident que h mot couleur ne designe aucii- 
 *' ne proprieie du corps, mais seulement une modificaiion 
 ** de none ame ; qua la blancheur, par exemple,la rongeur, 
 *' &CC. n'existent que dans nous, et nuUement dans le corps 
 " ausquels nous les rapportons ; neanmoins par une habi- 
 " tudc prise des nortre enfance, c'est une chose tres sigu- 
 " Here et digiie de Tattention des metaphysicians, que cc 
 *' penchant que nous avons a rapporter a nne substance 
 *' m<iiericlle et divisible, ce qui appartient reelltmenl a une 
 " substance spirituelle et simple ; et rien n'est peut etre 
 *' plus extraordinaire dans les operations de ncrte ame, que 
 " <le la voir transporter hors d'elle-u.eme et etendre, pour 
 *' ainsi dire, ses sensations sur une substance a laquelle ei- 
 " les ne peuvent appartenir." 
 
^di NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 From the following passage in Condillac's Traite ded 
 Sensations, it appears that the phenomenon here remarked 
 by ci'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 esplain. 
 
 '*On pourroit faire une supposition, ou Todorat appren- 
 " droit a joger parsaitement des grandeurs, des figures, des 
 *' situetions, et des distances. II sufEroit d'un cote de 
 " soumettre ies corpuscules odoriferans aux loix de la diop- 
 *^ trique, et de Tauire, de construire I'oigane de Todorat a 
 ** peu prcs sur le modele de celui de la vue ; ensorte que 
 " Ies rayons odoriferans, apres s*etre croise a Touverture, 
 *' frappassent sur una membrane interiure autant de points 
 '• distincts qu'il y en a sur Ies surfaces d'ou ils seroienc 
 ** reflechis. 
 
 " En pareil cas, nous contracterions bientot Thabitude 
 '*^ d'etendre Ies odeurs sur ies objets, et Ies philosophes ne 
 *' manqueroient pas de dire, que Todorat n'a pas besoin des 
 *' lecons du toucher pour appercevoir des grandeurs et des 
 " figures." 
 
 Ocuvres de Condillac. — Edit* Amst. vol. v. p. 223. 
 
 NOTE [Q,] page 308. 
 
 " VERUM quidem est, quod hodierni musici sic Ibqui 
 *' soleant (acutum in alto reputantes et grave inimo) quod- 
 *' que ex Graxis recentrioribus nonnulli sic aliquando (sed 
 ** rare) loqaitti videantur ; apud quos sensim molevit mos 
 " sic loquendi. — Sed antiquiores Grseci plane contrariuni 
 *« (grave rt- putantes in alto et acutum in imo.j Quod etiam 
 *' ad Boethii tempora continuatum est, qui in schematismis 
 ** suis, grave semper in summo ponit, et acutum in imo." 
 David Gregory, in Prosfat, ad edit, suam Euclid. Op» 
 Gxon. 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 by 
 Dr. Smith, in his Harmonics, from the formation of the voice 
 in siriginj>: ; which Aristides Quiruil'Jmus thus describes ; 
 *' Tmrai ^e ^ />tav ^apvrvis, kxtuQev ava^£po//,iv» ru 'Trnvf/i.aros, 07 0' o^vrris 
 
 ^^sirtTToKns 'Trpoisy.eya^ ^q, £t quidem gravitas fit, si ex inferi- 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS- 505 
 
 " ore parte (gutturis) spirltus sursum feratur, acumen vero, 
 " si per sum mam partem prorumpat ;" (as Meibcmius 
 translates it in his notes.) See Smith's Harmonics^ p. 3. 
 Dr. Beattie,inhis ingenious Essa} on Poetry and Music, 
 says, it is probable that the deepest or gravest sound v/as 
 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 347. 
 
 THE difference between the effects of association and of 
 imagination^ (in the sense in which J employ these words,) 
 in heightening the pleasure or the pain produced on the 
 mind by external objects, will appear from the following 
 remarks : 
 
 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 as- 
 sociations. Imagination is an active exertion of the mind ; 
 and although it may often be difficult to restrain it, it i§ 
 plainly distinguishable in theory from the associations now 
 mentioned. 
 
 2. In every case in which the association of ideas ope- 
 rates, is is implied that some pleasure or pain is recalled 
 which was felt by the mind before. I visit, for example, a 
 scene 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 
 beautiful. I shall not inquire, whether, in such cases, the 
 associated pleasure arises iminedifttely upon the sight of the 
 object, 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 rccals. On 
 neither supposition does it imply the exercise of that crea- 
 tive power of the mind to which we have given the name 
 of Imagination. It is true, that commonlv, on such occa- 
 
 QQq 
 
5Q6 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 sioas, imagination is busy ; and our pleasure is n^uch heigh- 
 tened by ihe colouring which she gives (O the objects of 
 memory. But the difference betv/een the effects which 
 arise from the operation of this facult)-, and those which 
 resuh from association, is not, on that account, the less 
 real. 
 
 The influence of imagination on happiness is chiefly felt 
 by cultivated minds, "j'hat of association extends to all 
 ranks of men, and furnishes the chief instrument oT educa- 
 tion ; insomuch that whoever has the regulacion of the a^^- 
 sociations of another from early infany, is to a great de- 
 gree, 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 
 onlv 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 eith- 
 er wholly or in part from some mental operation to which 
 the perception of it giver, rise, the effect is referred to as- 
 sociation. And, undoubtedly, this language may be em- 
 ployed with propriety, if the word Association be applied 
 to all the ideas and feelings which may arise in the mind, 
 in consequence of the exercise which the sight of the ob- 
 ject may give to the imagination, to the reasoning powers, 
 and to the other principles of our nature. But in (his 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 object derives from ideas, or from 
 feelings which it does not necessarily sug^jest, but which it 
 uniformly recals to the mind, in consequence of early and 
 long continued habits. 
 
 NOTE [S,] page 361. 
 
 THE following passage from Malebranche will be a suf- 
 ficient 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 
 ** affixed to the changes which happen to the filjres of the 
 ** principal parts of the brain, wherein the soul particularly 
 *' resides. 
 
 " This supposition being laid down, the nature of the 
 " memory is explained : for as the branches of a tree, which 
 
NOTE S AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 507 
 
 " 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 (ibrcs 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 j since a man thinks 
 " upon the same things, whenever the brain receives ihv' 
 " same impressions."* 
 
 " The most considerable difFcTences," says the same 
 *^ Author in another passage, *"• that are found in one and 
 " the same person, daring 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 wirh superfluous humors, which the faint and 
 *' languishing heat ot that age is no longer able to disperse : 
 " for as we sec that the fibres which compose the flesh 
 "■ harden by time, and that the flesh of a young partridge is 
 " without dispute more tender than that of an old one, so 
 " the fibics of the brain of a child, or a young person, must 
 " be more soft and delicate than those of persons more ad- 
 *' vanced in years. 
 
 " 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 ir, so the animal 
 *' spirits, by their perpetual agitaiion, 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 thos6 
 " of the same age, drunkards, who for many years togeiher 
 *' have drank to excess either wine, or other such intoxica- 
 " ting liquors, must needs have them more solid and more 
 *' inflexible than those who have abstained from the use of 
 *^ such kind of liquors all their lives/'f 
 
 * Book ii- chap. 5. (Page 54 of Taylor's Transl.) 
 tBook il chap, 6- (Page 56 of Taylor's TranJl.) 
 
408 NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 NOTE [T,] page 417. 
 
 " THOUGH Sir Isaac's memory was much decayed in 
 " the last years of his life, I found he perfectly understood 
 '* his own writings, conirary 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 expected he 
 " should. But as to this it may be observed, that great 
 " geniuses are frequently liable to be absent, not only in re- 
 *' lation to common life, but with regard to some of the 
 ** parts of science thev are the best informed of. Inventors 
 " seem to treasure up in their minds what they have found 
 " out after another manner than those do the same thiags, 
 " 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 
 ** ot 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 458. 
 
 " GOING 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 grad- 
 *' ually more insensible; 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, be- 
 " gets intrepidity, i. e. lessens fear ; to distress, lessens the 
 " passion of pity ; to instances of others mortality, lessens 
 *' the sensible apprehension of our own. And from these 
 *' two observations together, that practical habits are form- 
 *' ed and strengthened by repeated acts ; ard that passive 
 " impressions grow weaker by being repeated upon us ; it 
 " must follow, that active habits may be gradually forming 
 ** and strengthening by a course of acting upon such and 
 
NOTES AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 509 
 
 " 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 strengthened. And 
 " experience confirms this : for active principles, at the ve- 
 *' ry time they are less lively in perception than they were, 
 " are found to be, somehow, wrought more thoroughly in- 
 " to the temper and character, and become more effectual 
 " in influencing our practice. The three things just men- 
 ** tioned may afford instances of it. Ptrcepiioii of danger 
 *' is a natural excitement of passive fear and active caution : 
 *' and by being inured to danger, habits of the latter are 
 " gradually wrought, at the same time that the former 
 ** gradually lessens. Perception of distress in others, 
 *' is a natural excitement passively to pity, and actively to 
 ** relieve it : but let a man set himself to attend to, inquire 
 *' out, and relieve distressed persons, and he cannot but 
 " grow less and less sensibly affected with the various nnis- 
 " eries of life with which he must become acquainted ; 
 *' when yet, at the same time, benevolence, cons'idered not 
 ** as a passion, but as a practical principle of action, will 
 ** strengthen : and whilst he passively compas&ionates the 
 " distressed less, he will acquire a greater aptitude actively 
 ** to assist and befriend 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 mortality, such instances greatly contribute to 
 ** the strengthening a practical regard to it in serious men ; 
 " i. e. to forming a habit of acting with a constant v'ltw to 
 " it." Butler's Analogy^ page 122. 3d edit. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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