about C H A P. about him, and thinks hi mfelf entitled to their ^^- applaufe. He is applauded by all, and feels the fame emotion from this applaufe, as a Ro- man Conful did from a triumph. He has now a confcioufnefs ot fome worth in himfelf. He aflumes a fuperiority over thofe who are not fo wife; and pays refpect to thofe who are wifer than himfelf. He attempts fomething elfe, and is every clay reaping new laurels.
As children grow up, they are dehghted with tales, with childifh games, with deligns and ftratagems: Every thing of this kind ftores the fancy v\ith a new regular train of thought, which becomes familiar by repetition, fo that one part draws the whole after it in the imagination.
The imagination of a child, like the hand of a painter, is long employed in copying the works of others, before it attempts any inven- tion of its own.
The power of invention is not yet brought forth, but it is coming forward, and, like the bud of a tree, is ready to burft its integuments, when fome accident aids its eruption.
There is no pov,'cr of the underilanding that gives fo much pleafure to the owner as that of invention; whether it be employed in mechanics, in fcience, in the conduct of life, in poetry, in wit, or in the fine arts. One who is confcious of it, acquires thereby a worth and importance in his own eye which he had not before. He looks upon himfelf as one w^ho formerly lived upon the bounty and gratu- ity of others, but who has now acquired fome property of his own. ■ When this power begins to be felt in the young mind, it has the grace of novelty added to its other charms, and, like Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 73 like the youngeft child of the family, is caref- CHAP, fed beyond all the reft., ^^'• We may be fure, therefore, that as foon as children are confcious of this power, they will exercife it in fuch ways as are fuited to their age, and to the objefts they are employed about. This gives rife to innumerable new alTociations, and regular trains of thought, which make the deeper impreffion upon the mind, as they are its exclufive property.
I am aware that the power of invention is diftributed among men more unequally than almoft any other. When it is able to produce any thing that is interefting to mankind, we call it genius; a talent which is the lot of very few. But there is perhaps a lower kind, or lower degree of invention that is more com- mon. However this may be, it muft be al- lowed, that the power of invention in thofe who have it, will produce many new regular trains of thought; and thefe being exprelTed in works of art, in -writing, or in difcourfe, will be copied by others.
Thus I conceive the minds of children, as foon as they have judgment to diftinguifh what is regular, orderly, and connected, from a mere medley of thought, are furnifhed with regular trains of thinking by thefe means.
Firjl and chiefly, by copying what they fee in the works and in the difcourfe of others. Man is the moft imitative of all animals; he not only imitates \n\h. intention, and purpofe- ly, what he thinks has any grace or beauty, but even without intention, he is led by a kind of inftincl, which it is difficult to refift, into the modes of fpeaking, thinking, and acting, which he has been accuftomed to fee in in C H A P. in his early years. The more children fee of • what is regular and beautiful in what is pre- fented to them, the more ihey are led to ob- ferve and to imitate it.
This is the chief part of their floek, and .defcends to them by a kind of tradition from thofe who came before them; and we fhall find, that the fancy of mod men is furnifhed from thofe they have converfed with, as well as their religion, language, and manners.
Secondly, By the additions or innovations that are properly their own, thefe will be grea- ter or leCs, in proportion to their fludy and invention; but in the bulk of mankind are not very confiderable.
Every profellion, and every rank in life, has a manner of thinking, and turn of fancy that is proper to it; by which it is characterifed in comedies and works of humour. The bulk of men of the fame nation, of the fame rank, and of the fame occupation, are cafl as it were in the fame mould. This mould itfelf changes gradually, but flowly, by new inven- tions, by intercourfe with ftrangers, or by other accidents.
The condition of man requires a longer in- fancy and youth than that of x^ther animals; for this reafon among others, that almoft every flation in civil fociety requires a multitude of regular trains of thought, to be not only ac- quired, but to be made fo familiar by frequent repetition, as to prefent themfelves fponta- neoufly, when there is occafion for them.
The imagination even of men of good parts never ferves them readily but in things where- in it has been much exercifed. A Minifler of State holds a conference with a foreign AmbalTador, Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 75 baflador, with no greater emotion than a Pro- CHAP feffor in a college prelects to his audience. The imagination of each prefents to him what the occafion requires to be faid, and how. Let them change places, and both would find thcmfelves at a lofs.
The habits which the human mind is capa- ble of acquiring by exercife are wonderful in many inftances; in none more wonderful, than in that verfatility of imagination which a well bred man acquires, by being much exercifcd in the various fcenes of life. In the morning he vifits a friend in afflidion. Here his ima- gination brings forth from its ftore every topic of confolation; every thing that is agreeable to the laws of friendfhip and fympathy, and nothing that is not fo. From thence he drives to the Minifler's levee, where imagination readily fuggefts what is proper to be faid or replied to every man, and in what manner, ac- cording to the degree of acquaintance or fami- liarity, of rank or dependence, of oppofition or occurrence of interefts, of confidence or diftruft, that is between them. Nor does all this employment hinder him from carrying on fome defign with much artifice, and endea- vouring to penetrate into the views of others through the clofeft difguifes. From the levee he goes to the Houfe of Commons, and fpeaks upon the affairs of the nation; from thence to a ball or alfembly, and entertains the ladies- His imagination puts on the friend, the cour- tier, the patriot, the fine gentleman, with more eafe than we put off" one fuit and put on ano- ther, y y This is the effefl of training and exercife. For a man of equal parts and knowledge, but unac- C K A p. unaccuftomed to thofe fcenes of public life, is ^^'- quite difconcerted when firft brought into ^^'^'^^ them. His thoughts are put to flight, and he cannot rally them.
There are feats of imagination to be learned by application and pratlice, as wonderful as the feats of balancers and rope-dancers, and often as ufelefs.
When a man can make a hundred verfes {landing on one foot, or play three or four games at chefs at the fame time without feeing the board, it is probable he hath fpent his life in acquiring fuch a feat. However, fuch un- ufual pheenomena (hew what habits of imagi- nation may be acquired.
When fuch habits are acquired and perfect- ed, they are exercifed without any laborious effort; like the habit of playing upon an in- flrument of mufic. There are innumerable motions of the fingers upon the flops or keys, which mufl be directed in one particular train or fucceffion. There is only one arrangement of thofe motions that is right, while there are ten thoufand that are wrong, and would fpoil the mufic. The Mufician thinks not in the ieafl of the arrangement of thofe motions; he has a diilind; idea of the tune, and wills to play it. The motions of the fingers arrange hemfelves, fo as to anfwer his intention.
In hke manner, when a man fpeaks upon a fubject with which he is acquainted, there is a certain arrangement of his thoughts and words neceifary to make his difcourfe fenfible, per- tinent, and grammatical. In every fentence, there are more rules of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, that may be tranfgreffed, than there are words and letters. He fpeaks without thinking Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 77 thinking of any of thofe rules, and yet obferves^ ^ ^ ^' them all, as if they were all in his eye. ' This is a habit fo fimilar to that of a player on an inftrument, that I think both mufl be got in the fame way, that is, by much practice, and the power of habit.
When a man fpeaks well and methodically upon a fubjed: without fludy, and with perfed eafe, I believe we may take it for granted that his thoughts run in a beaten track. There is a mould in his mind, which has been formed by much practice, or by fludy, for this very fubjed, or for fome other fo fmiilar and ana- logous, that his difcourfe falls into this mould with eafe, and takes its form from it.
Hitherto we have confidered the operations of fancy that are either fpontaneous, or at lead require no laborious effort to guide and dired: them, and have endeavoured to account for that degree of regularity and arrangement which is found even in them. The natural powers of judgment and invention, the plea- sure that always attends the exercife of thofe powers, the means we have of improving thcni by imitation of others, and the effed of prac- tice and habits, feems to me fufficiently to ac- count for this phsenomenon, without fuppofmg any unaccountable attradions of ideas by which they arrange themfelves.
But we are able to dired our thoughts in a certain courfe fo as to perform a deflined talk. Every work of art has its model framed in the imagination. Here the Iliad of Homer, the Republic of Plato, the Principia of New- ton, were fabricated. Shall we beUeve, that thofe works took the form in which they now appear 7S ESSAY IV.
CHAF.appear of themfelves? That the fentlments, ^^- the ir/anners, and the pafiions arranged them- ^""'^'^^ lelves at once in the mind of Homer, fo as to form the Iliad? Was there no more effort in. the compofition, than there is in teUing a well- known tale, or finging a favourite fong? This cannot be believed.
Granting that fome happy thought firft fug- gefted the defign of fmging the wrath of Achilles; yet, furely, it was a matter of judgment and choice where the narration fliould begin, and where it fliould end.
Granting that the fertility of the Poet's ima- gination fuggefl:ed a variety of rich materials; was not judgment neceifary to leleft what was proper, to reject what was improper, to ar- range the materials into a juft compofition, and to adapt them to each other, and to the defign of the whole?
No man can beheve that Homer's ideas, merely by certain fympathies and antipathies, by certain attractions and repulfions inherent in their natures, arranged themfelves according to the moft perfeft 'rules of Epic peetry; and Nevvton's, according to the rules of mathe- matical compofition.
I fliould fooner believe that the Poet, after he invoked his Mufe, did nothing at all but Men to the fong of the goddefs. Poets indeed, and ether artifts, mufl make their works ap- pear natural; but nature is the perfection of art, and there can be no jufl; imitation of na- ture without art: When the building is finiflied, the rubbifh, the fcaffolds, the tools and en- gines, are carried out of fight; but we know it could not have been reared without them.
The Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 79 The train of thinking, therefore, is capable C HAP. of being guided and direded, much in the fame manner as the horfe we ride. The horfe has his flrength, his agiUty, and his mettle in himfelf; he has been taught certain move- ments, and many ufeful habits that make him more fubfervient to our purpofes, and obedient to our will; but to accompHih a journey, he muft be directed by the rider.
In like manner fancy has its original powers, which are very different in different perfons; it has likewife more regular motions, to which it has been trained by a long courfe of difci- pline and exercife; and by which it may extem- pore, and without much effort, produce things that have a confiderable degree of beauty, re- gularity, and defign.
But the mofl perfed works of defign are ne- ver extemporary. Our firfl thoughts are re- viewed; we place them at a proper diftance; examine every part, and take a complex view of the whole: By our critical faculties, wc perceive this part to be redundant, that defici- ent; here is a want of nerves, there a want of delicacy; this is obfcure, that too diffufe: Things are marlhalled anew, according to a fecond and more deliberate judgment; what was deficient, is fupplied; what was diflocated, is put in joint; redundances are lopped off, and the whole polilhed.
Though Poets of all artifts make the higheft claim to infpiration, yet if we believe Horace, a competent judge, no production in that art can have merit, which has not coft fuch labour as this in the birth.
VosO!
Bo ESSAY IV.
CHAP. IV.
Vos 0/ Pofupiiius fanguis^ cartneji reprehendite quod non Malta dies, et multa litura coercuit, atque Perfedum decies non cajiigavit ad unguem.
The conclufion I would draw from all that has been fald upon this fubjecl is. That every thing that is regular in that- train of thought^ which we call fancy or imagination, from the little defigns and reveries of children, to the grandeft productions of human genius, was originally the offspring of judgment or tafte, applied with fome effort greater or lefs. What one perfon compofed with art and judgment, is imitated by another with great eafe. What a man himfelf at firfl compofed with pains, becomes by habit fo familiar, as to offer itfelf fpontaneoufly to his fancy afterwards: But no- thing that is regular, was ever at firft conceived, without defign, attention, and care.
I fhall now make a few refleftions upon a theory which has been applied to account for this fucceffive train of thought in the mind. It was hinted by Mr. Hobbes, but has drawn more attention fmce it was diltindly explained by Mr. Hume.
That author thinks that the train of thought in the mind is owing to a kind of attraction which ideas have for other ideas that bear cer- taiA relations to them. He thinks the complex ideas, which are the common fubjefts of our thoughts and reafoning, are owing to the fame caufe. The relations which produce this at- traction of ideas, he thinks, are thefe three only, to wit, caufation, contiguity in time or place, and fimilitude. He afferts that thefe are the only general principles that unite ideas. And having, in another place, occafion to take Of the Train of Thought /« the Mind. ' 8 r take notice of contrariety as a principle of con-C HAP; neftion among ideas, in order to reconcile this ^^• to his fyflem, he tells us gravely, that contra- riety may perhaps be confidered as a mixture of caufation and refemblance. That ideas which have any of thefe three relations do mu- tually attra£l each other, fo that one of them, being prefented to the fancy, the other is drawn along with it, this he feems to think an origi- nal property of the mind, or rather of the ideas, and therefore inexplicable.
Firji^ I obferve with regard to this theory, that although it is true that the thought of any objeft is apt to lead us to the thought of its caufe or effeft, of things contiguous to it in time or place, or of things refembling it, yet this enumeration of the relations of things which are apt to lead us from one objeft to another, is very inaccurate.
The enumeration is too large upon his own principles; but it is by far too fcanty in reality. Caufation, according to his philofophy, implies nothing more than a conftant conjunction ob- ferved between the caufe and the efFeft, and therefore contiguity mud include caufation, and his three principles of attraction are re- duced to two.
But when we take all the three, the enume- ration is in reality very incomplete. Every relation of things has a tendency, more or lefs, to lead the thought, in a thinking mind, from one to the other; and not only every relation, but every kind of contrariety and oppolition. What Mr. Hume fays, that contrariety may perhaps be confidered as a mixture " of caufa- tion and refemblance," I can as little compre- VoL. 11. G hend C H A P.hend as if he had faid that figure may perhaps ^^' be confidered as a mixture of colour and Our thoughts pafs eafily from the end to the means; from any truth to the evidence on which it is founded, the confequences that may be drawn from it, or the ufe that may be made of it. From a part we are eafily led to think of the whole, from a fubject to its quaHties, or from things related to the relation. Such tran- fitions in thinking mud have been made thou* fands of times by every man who thinks and reafons, and thereby become, as it were, beat- en tracks for the imagination.
Not only the relations of objects to each other influence our train of thinking, but the relation they bear to the prefent temper and difpofition of the mind; their relation to the habits we have acquired, whether moral or intelle<5Lual; to the company we have kept, and to the bufmefs in which we have been chiefly employed. The fame event ^ill fuggefl very different reflections to different perfons, and to the fame perfon at different times, according as he is in good or bad humour, as he is live- ly or dull, angry or pleafed, melancholy or cheerful.
Lord Kaimes, in his Elements of Criticifm, and Dr. Gerard in his Efllay on Genius, have given a much fuller and jufter enumera- tion of the caufes that influence our train of thinking, and I have nothing to add to what they have faid on this fubject.
Secondly, Let us confider how far this attrac- tion of ideas mufl: be refolved into original qualities of human nature.
I be- Of the Train of Thought in the Mind.
83 I believe the original principles of the mind,C HAP. of which we can give no account, but that ^^• fuch is our conflitution, 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, fliould fpon- taneoufly offer themfelves to our fancy, feems to require no other original quality but the power of habit.
In all rational thinking, and in all rational difcourfe, whether ferious or iacetious, the thought muft have fome relation to what went before. Every man, therefore, from the dawn of reafon, mud have been accuftomed to a train of related objeds. Thefe pleafe the un- derflanding, and by cuftom become like beat- en tracks which invite the traveller.
As far as it is in our power to give a direction to our thoughts, which it is undoubtedly in a great degree, they will be directed by the ac- tive principles common to men, by our appe- tites, our paffions, our affections, our reafon, and confcience. And that the trains of think- ing in our minds are chiefly governed by thefe, according as one or another prevails at the time, every man will find in his experience.
If the mind is at any time vacant from every paiiion and defire, there are ftill fome objects that are more acceptable to us than others. The facetious man is pleafed with furprifmg fimilitudes or contrails; the Philofopher with the relations of things that are fubfcrvient to reafoning; the merchant with what tends to pront; and the Politician with what may mend the llate.
G 2 A good CHAP. A good writer of comedy or romance can ^^- feign a train of thinking for any of the perfons of his fable, which appears very natural, and is approved by the beil judges. Now, what is it that entitles fuch a fiftion to approbation? Is it that the author has given a nice attention to the relations of caufation, contiguity, and fimilitude in the ideas? This furely is the lead part of its merit. But the chief part confifts in this, that it correfponds perfectly with the general char after, the rank, the habits, the prefent fituation and paffions of the perfon. If this be a jufl way of judging in criticifm, it follows neceffarily, that the circumftances lad mentioned have the chief influence in fuggefl- ing our trains of thought.
It cannot be denied, that the flate of the body has an influence upon our imagination, according as a man is fober or drunk, as he is fatigued or refrefhed. Crudities and indigeflii- Qn are faid to give uneafy dreams, and have probably a like effed: upon the waking thoughts. Opium gives to fome perfons pleafmg dreams, and pleaiing imaginations when awake, and to others fuch as are horrible and difl:refling, Thefe influences of the body upon the mind can only be known by experience, and I be- lieve we can give no account of them.
Nor can we, perhaps, give any reafon why we mufl think without ceafing while we are awake. I believe we are likcwife originally difpofed, in imagination, to pafs from any one objeft of thought to others that are contiguous to it in time or place. This, I think, may be obferved in brutes and in idiots, as well as in children, before any habit can be acquired that might account for it. The fight of an object 13 Of the Train 0/ Thought m the Mind. ^s IS apt to fugged to the imagination what hasC HAP. been feen or felt in conjunftion with it, even ^^• when the memory of that conjunftion is gone.
Such conjunctions of things influence not only the imagination, but the belief and the paffions, efpecially in children and in brutes; and perhaps all that we call memory in brutes is fomething of this kind.
They ex{^e£t events in the fame order and fucceflion in which they happened before; and by. this expeftation, their adions and paffions^ as well as their thoughts, are regulated. A horfe takes fright at the place where fome objett frighted him before. We are apt to conclude from this, that he remembers the former acci- dent. But perhaps there is only an affociation formed in his mind between the place and the paflion of fear, without any difl:in£t remem- brance.
Mr. Locke has given us a very good chap- ter upon the aflbciation of ideas; and by the examples he has given to illuflrate this dodrine, I think it appears that very ftrong affociations may be formed at once; not of ideas to ideas only, but of ideas to paflions and emotions; and that ftrong aifociations are never formed at once, but when accompanied by fome ftrong paffion or emotion. I believe this muft be re- folved into the conftitution of our nature.
Mr. Hume's opinion, that the complex ideas, which are the common objefts of dif- courfe and reafoning, are formed by thofe ori- ginal attractions of ideas, to which he afcribes the train of thoughts in the mind, will come under confideration in another place.
To put an end to our remarks upon this theo- ry of Mr. Hume, I think he has real merit in bringing CHAP, bringing this curious fubjcd under the view of • Philolbphers, and carrying it a certain length. But I fee nothing in this theory that fliould hinder us to conclude, that every thing in the trains of our thought, which bears the marks of judgment and reafon, has been the product of judgment and reafon previoufly exercifedj either by the perfon himfelf, at that or fome former time, or by fome other perfon. The attradion of ideas will be the fame in a man's fccond thoughts upon any fubjecl as in his firft. Or if fome change in his circumflances, or in the objefts about him, fhould make any change in the attractions of his ideas, it is an equal chance whether the fecond be better than the firfl, or whether they be worfe. But it is cer- tain that every man of judgment and tafte will, upon a review, correct that train of thought which firfl prefented itfel£ If the attractions of ideas are the fole caufes of the regular ar- rangement^of thought in the fancy, there is no ufe for judgment or tafte in any compofition, nor indeed any room for their operation.
There are other reflections of a more practi- cal nature, and of higher importance, to which this fubjeCt leads.
I believe it will be allowed by every man, that our happinefs or mifery in life, that our improvement in any art or fcience which we profefs, and that our improvement in real vir- tue and goodnefs, depend in a very great de- greee on the train of thinking, that occupies the mind both in our vacant and in our more ferious hours. As far therefore as the directi- on of our thoughts is in our power, (and that it is fo in a great meafure, cannot be doubted) it is of the lafl importance to give them that direction Of the Train o/'Thought in the Mind. 87 diredlon which is moft fubfervient to thofe^^AP. valuable purpofes.
What employment can he have worthy of a man, whofe imagination is occupied only about things low and bafe, and grovels in a narrow field of mean unanimating and uninterefling objects, infenfible to thofe finer and more de- hcate fentiments, and blind to thofe more en- larged and nobler views which elevate the foul, and make it confcious of its dignity.
How different from him, whofe imagination, Hke an eagle in her flight, takes a wide prof- pe£l, and obferves whatever it prefents, that is new or beautiful, grand or important, whofe rapid wing varies the fcene every moment, carrying him fometimes through the fairy re- gions of wit and fancy, fometimes through the more regular and fober walks of fcience and philofophy.
The various objefts which he furveys, ac- cording to their different degrees of beauty and dignity, raife in him the lively and agreeable emotions of tafte. Illuftrious human charac- ters, as they pafs in review, clothed with their moral qualities, touch his heart ftill more deep- ly. They not only awaken the fenfe of beauty, but excite the fentiment of approbation, and kindle the glow of virtue.
While he views what is truly great and glo- rious in human conduct, his foul catches the divine flame, and burns with defire to emulate what it admires.
The human imagination is an ample thea- tre, upon which every thing in human Hfe, good or bad, great or mean, laudable or bdfe, is aded.
In CHAP. In children, and in fome frivolous minds, ^ it is a mere toy-fhop. And in fome, who ex- ^^^^^^^^ ercife their memory without their judgment, its furniture is m>ade up of old fcraps of know- ledge, that are thread-bare and worn-out.
In fome, this theatre is often occupied by ghaflly fuperfliticn, with all her train of Gor- gojis, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire. Some- times it is haunted with all the infernal de- mons, and made the forge of plots, and ra- pine, and murder. Here every thing that is black and deteftable is firft contrived, and a thoufand wicked deligns conceived that are never executed. Here, too, the Furies a£t their part, taking a fevere though fecret ven- geance upon the felf-condemned criminal.
How happy is that mind, in which the light of real knowledge difpels the phantoms of fu- perflition: In which the belief and reverence of a perfect all-governing Mind calls out all fear but the fear of afting wrong: In which ferenity and cheerfulnefs, innocence, huma- nity, and candour, guard the imagination againft the entrance of every unhallowed intru- der, and invite more amiable and worthier guefts to dwell!
There fliall the Mufes, the Graces, and the Virtues, fix their abode; for every thing that is great and worthy in human conduQ: mull have been conceived in ihe imagination before it was brought into ad. And many great and good defigns have been formed there, which, for want of power and opportunity, have pro- ved abortive.
The man, whofe imagination is occupied by thefe guefts, muft be wifej he muft be good; and he muft be happy.
ESSAY 89 OF ABSTRACTION. CHAP. I.
Of General Words* THE words we ufe in language are either general words, or proper names. Pro- per names are intended to fignify one individual only. Such are the names of men, kingdoms, provinces, cities, rivers, and of every other crea- ture of God, or work of man, which we chufe to diftinguifh from all others of the kind, by a name appropriated to it. All the other words of language are general words, not appropriated to fignify any one individual thing, but equally related to many.
Under general words therefore, I compre- hend not only thofe which Logicians call ge- neral terms, that is, fuch general words as may make the fubjefl: or the predicate of a pro- pofition, but likewife their auxiharies or ac- ceffories, as the learned Mr. Harris calls them; fuch as prepofitions, conjundions, ar- ticles, which are all general words, though they cannot properly be called general terms.
In every language, rude or polifhed, gene- ral words make the greatefl part, and proper names the leaft. Grammarians have reduced all words to eight or nine clafles, which are called C H A F.ciillcd parts of fpeech. Of thefe there is only *• one, to wit, that of?2om2s, wherein proper names are found. All pronouns, verbs^ parti- ticiples, adverbs, articles, prcpofitions, conjunc- tions, and inter jeclions, are general words. Of nouns, all adjehi'ves are general words, and the greater part q{ Jubfianti'ves. Every fubftantive that has a plural number, is a general word; for no proper name can have a plural number, becaufe it fignifies only one individual. In all the fifteen books of Euclid's Elements, there is not one v/ord that is not general; and the fame may be faid of many large volumes.