ence of causes which are "known and determinate." Those domestic affairs, which, according to Mr. Hume, are already proper subjects of reasoning and observation, in consequence of their dependence on general interests and passions, will become so, more and more, daily, as prejudices shall decline, and knowledge shall be diffused among the lower orders: while the relations among the dif ferent states, which have depended hitherto, in a great measure, on the "whim, folly and caprice" of single persons, will be gradually more and more regulated by the general interests of the individuals who compose them, and by the popular opinions of more enlightened times. Already, during the very short interval which has elapsed since the publication of Mr. Hume's writings, an astonishing change has taken place in Europe. The mysteries of courts have been laid open; the influence of secret negotiation on the relative situation of states has declined: and the studies of those men whose public spirit or ambition devotes them to the service of their country, have been diverted from the intrigues of cabinets, and the details of the diplomatic code, to the liberal and manly pursuits of political philo, sophy.

CHAPTER FIFTH.

OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.

THE subject on which I am now to enter, naturally divides itself into two Parts. The first relates to the influence of Association, in regulating the succession of our thoughts; the second, to its influence on the intellectual powers, and on the moral character, by the more intimate and indissoluble combinations which it leads us to form in infancy and in early youth. The two inquiries, indeed, run into each other; but it will contribute much to the order of our speculations, to keep the foregoing arrangement in view.

PART FIRST.

OF THE INFLUENCE OF ASSOCIATION IN REGULATING THE SUCCESSION OF OUR THOUGHTS.

SECTION I.

General Observations on this Part of our Constitution, and on the Language of Philosephers with respect to it.

THAT one thought is often suggested to the mind of another, and that the sight of an external object often recalls former occurrences,

and revives former feelings, are facts which are perfectly familiar, even to those who are the least disposed to speculate concerning the principles of their nature. In passing along a road which we have formerly travelled in the company of a friend, the particulars of the conversation in which we were then engaged, are frequently suggested to us by the objects we meet with. In such a scene, we recollect that a particular subject was started; and, in passing the different houses, and plantations, and rivers, the arguments we were discussing when we last saw them, recur spontaneously to the memory. The connexion which is formed in the mind between the words of a language and the ideas they denote; the connexion which is formed between the different words of a discourse we have committed to memory; the connexion between the different notes of a piece of music in the mind of the musician, are all obvious instances of the same general law of our nature.

The influence of perceptible objects in reviving former thoughts and former feelings, is more particularly remarkable. After time has in some degree, reconciled us to the death of a friend, how wonderfully are we affected the first time we enter the house where he lived! Every thing we see, the apartment where he studied, the chair upon which he sat, recall to us the happiness we have enjoyed together; and we should feel it a sort of violation of that respect we owe to his memory, to engage in any light or indifferent discourse when such objects are before us. In the case, too, of those remarkable scenes which interest the curiosity, from the memorable persons or transactions which we have been accustomed to connect with them in the course of our studies, the fancy is more awakened by the actual perception of the scene itself, than by the mere conception or imagination of it. Hence the pleasure we enjoy in visiting classical ground, in beholding the retreats which inspired the genius of our favourite authors, or the fields which have been dignified by exertions of heroic virtue. How feeble are the emotions produced by the liveliest conception of modern Italy, to what the poet felt, when amidst the ruins of Rome,

The well-known effect of a particular tune on Swiss regiments when at a distance from home, furnishes a very striking illustration of the peculiar power of a perception, or of an impression on the senses, to awaken associated thoughts and feelings; and numberless facts of a similar nature must have occurred to every person of moderate sensibility, in the course of his own experience.

"Whilst we were at dinner," (says Captain King,)" in this mise"rable hut, on the banks of the river Awatska; the guests of a

"Quacunque ingredimur," (says Cicero, speaking of Athens,) “in aliquam historiam vestigium ponimus."

"people with whose existence we had before been scarce acquaint"ed, and at the extremity of the habitable globe; a solitary, half66 worn pewter spoon, whose shape was familiar to us, attracted our "attention, and, on examination, we found it stamped on the back "with the word, London. I cannot pass over this circumstance in "silence, out of gratitude for the many pleasant thoughts, the anx"ious hopes, and tender remembrances, it excited in us. Those "who have experienced the effects that long absence, and extreme "distance from their native country, produce on the mind, will rea'dily conceive the pleasure such a trifling incident can give.”

The difference between the effect of a perception and an idea, in awakening associated thoughts and feelings, is finely described in the introduction to the fifth book De finibus.

"We agreed," (says Cicero,) "that we should take our after"noon's walk in the academy, as at that time of the day it was a "place where there was no resort of company. Accordingly, at "the hour appointed, we went to Piso's. We passed the time in "conversing on different matters during our short walk from the "double gate, till we came to the academy, that justly celebrated "spot; which, as we wished, we found a perfect solitude." "I "know not," (said Piso,) "whether it be a natural feeling, or an "illusion of the imagination founded on habit, that we are more "powerfully affected by the sight of those places which have been "much frequented by illustrious men, than when we either listen to "the recital, or read the detail, of their great actions. At this mo"ment I feel strongly that emotion which I speak of. I see before "me the perfect form of Plato, who was wont to dispute in this "very place: these gardens not only recall him to my memory, but "present his very person to my senses. I fancy to myself, that "here stood Speusippus; there, Xenocrates, and here, on this bench, "sat his disciple Polemo. To me, our ancient senate-house seems "peopled with the like visionary forms; for, often, when I enter it, "the shades of Scipio, of Cato, and of Lælius, and, in particular, of "my venerable grand-father, rise to my imagination. In short, such "is the effect of local situation in recalling associated ideas to the "mind, that it is not without reason, some philosophers have found"ed on this principle a species of artificial memory."

This influence of perceptible objects, in awakening associated thoughts and associated feelings, seems to arise, in a great measure, from their permanent operation as exciting or suggesting causes. When a train of thought takes its rise from an idea or conception, the first idea soon disappears, and a series of others succeeds, which are gradually less and less related to that with which the train commenced; but, in the case of perception, the exciting cause remains steadily before us, and all the thoughts and feelings which have any relation to it, crowd into the mind in rapid succession, strengthening each other's effects, and all conspiring in the same general impres

sion.

I have already observed, that the connexions, which exist among our thoughts, have been long familiarly known to the vulgar, as well as to philosophers. It is, indeed, only of late, that we have been possessed of an appropriated phrase to express them; but that the general fact is not a recent discovery, may be inferred from many of the common maxims of prudence and of propriety, which have plainly been suggested by an attention to this part of our constitution. When we lay it down, for example, as a general rule, to avoid in conversation all expressions, and all topics of discourse, which have any relation, however remote, to ideas of an unpleasant nature, we plainly proceed on the supposition that there are certain connexions among our thoughts, which have an influence over the order of their succession. It is unnecessary to remark, how much of the comfort and good humour of social life depends on an attention to this consideration. Such attentions are more particularly essential in our intercourse with men of the world; for the commerce of society has a wonderful effect in increasing the quickness and the facility with which we associate all ideas which have any reference to life and manners;* and, of consequence, it must render the sensibility alive to many circumstances which, from the remoteness of their relation to the situation and history of the parties, would otherwise have passed unnoticed.

When an idea, however, is thus suggested by association, it produces a slighter impression, or, at least, it produces its impression more gradually, than if it were presented more directly and immediately to the mind. And hence, when we are under the necessity of communicating any disagreeable information to another, delicacy leads us, instead of mentioning the thing itself, to mention something else from which our meaning may be understood. In this manner we prepare our hearers for the unwelcome intelligence.

The distinction between gross and delicate flattery, is founded upon the same principle. As nothing is more offensive than flattery which is direct and pointed, praise is considered as happy and elegant, in proportion to the slightness of the associations by which it is conveyed.

To this tendency which one thought has to introduce another, philosophers have given the name of the Association of Ideas; and, as I would not wish, excepting in a case of necessity, to depart from common language, or to expose myself to the charge of delivering old doctrines in a new form, I shall continue to make use of the same expression. I am sensible, indeed, that the expression is by no means unexceptionable; and that, if it be used (as it frequently

The superiority which the man of the world possesses over the recluse student, in his knowledge of mankind, is partly the result of this quickness and facility of association.. Those trifling circumstances in conversation and behaviour, which, to the 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 frequently give him a distinct view of a character, on that very side where it is supposed to be most concealed from his observa

tion.

has been) to comprehend those laws by which the succession of all our thoughts and of all our mental operations is regulated, the word idea must be understood in a sense much more extensive than it is commonly employed in. It is very justly remarked by Dr. Reid, that "memory, judgment, reasoning, passions, affections, and pur66 poses; in a word, every operation of the mind, excepting those of sense, is excited occasionally in the train of our thoughts: so that, "if we make the train of our thoughts to be only a train of ideas, "the word idea must be understood to denote all these operations." In continuing, therefore, to employ, upon this subject, that language, which has been consecrated by the practice of our best philosophical writers in England, I would not be understood to dispute the advantages which might be derived from the introduction of a new phrase, more precise and more applicable to the fact.

The ingenious author whom I last quoted, seems to think that the association of ideas has no claim to be considered as an original principle or as an ultimate fact in our nature. "I believe," (says he,) "that the original principles of the mind, of which we can give no "account, but that such is our constitution, are more in number than " is commonly thought. But we ought not to multiply them with"out necessity. That trains of thinking, which, by frequent repeti"tion, have become familiar, should spontaneously offer themselves "to our fancy, seems to require no other original quality but the 66 power of habit."

With this observation I cannot agree; because I think it more philosophical to resolve the power of habit into the association of ideas than to resolve the association of ideas into habit.

The word habit, in the sense in which it is commonly employed, expresses that facility which the mind acquires, in all its exertions, both animal and intellectual, in consequence of practice. We apply it to the dexterity of the workman: to the extemporary 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 fact: but it does not seem to be an ultimate fact, nor incapable of analysis.

In the Essay on Attention, I shewed that the effects of practice are produced partly on the body, and partly on the mind. The muscles which we employ in mechanical operations, become stronger, and become more obedient to the will. This is a fact, of which it is probable that philosophy will never be able to give any explanation.

But even in mechanical operations, the effects of practice are produced partly on the mind; and, as far as this is the case, they are resolvable in what philosophers call the association of ideas; or into that general fact, which Dr. Reid himself has stated, "that trains of "thinking, which, by frequent repetition, have become familiar, "spontaneously offer themselves to the mind." In the case of habits which are purely intellectual, the effects of practice resolve themselves completely into this principle: and it appears to me