out some importance in the more practical philosophy of later times. If these questions concern merely the matter of fact, if the inquiry be, What do people think on these points? It admits of different answers. But this is of less consequence to be known, than to know what is the true view of this subject? The following, we think, is the view, which should be taken. If by heat, cold, and taste in bodies, we merely mean, that there is this or that disposition or motion in the particles, then it must clearly be granted, that fire is hot, that snow is cold, and sugar is sweet. But if by heat is understood what one feels on the application of fire to the limbs, or if by sweetness is understood the sensation of taste, when a sapid body is applied to the tongue, &c., then fire has no heat, sugar no sweetness, and snow is not cold. These states of the mind can never be transformed into any thing material and external. The heat or the cold which I feel, and the different kinds of tastes are sensations in the soul, and nothing else.

§. 210. Whether there be meaning in words?

We say in our common discourse, that there is meaning. in words, that there is meaning in the printed page of an author; and the language is perhaps sufficiently correct for those occasions, on which it is ordinarily employed.. We do not deem it necessary to object to the common mode of speaking in this particular instance, nor to undertake to propose any thing better. But there is here an association of ideas, similar, both in its nature and its effects, to that existing between extension and colour already remarked upon.

When objects external to us are presented to the sense of sight, there is immediately the sensation of some colour. This sensation we have been so long in the habit of referring to the external object, that we speak and act, as if the colour were truly in that object and not in ourselves; in the language of D'Alembert, as if the sensation were transported out of the mind, and spread over the material substance. And it is not until we take some time to re

flect, and until we institute a careful examination, that we become satisfied of our errour.

In the same way when we look upon the page of an author we say it has meaning, or that it is full of thought; whereas in truth, in consequence of a long continued and obstinate association, of which we are hardly sensible ourselves, we transport the meaning or thought out of our selves and spread it upon that page. The thought or meaning is in ourselves, but is placed by us, through the means of a casual but very strong association, in the writ ten marks, which are before us. All the power, which the words have, results from convention, or, what is the same thing, exists in consequence of certain intellectual habits, formed in reference to those words. It is these habits, formed in reference to them, it is this mental correspondence, which gives these characters all their value; and without the mind, which answers to and which interprets them, they could be considered as nothing more than mere black strokes drawn upon white paper, and essentially differing in nothing from the zigzag and unmeaning delineations of a schoolboy on the sand. As all the beautiful variety of colours do not and cannot have an existence without the mind, which has sensations of them or perceives them, so words are useless, are unmeaning, are noth ing without the interpretations of an intellect, that has been trained up so as to correspond to them. Otherwise there would be meaning in the unknown inscriptions on the bricks brought from Babylon; there would be meaning in those hieroglyphical figures on the monuments of Egypt, which have hitherto eluded the efforts to interpret them; they would not stare upon us with the unintelligent vacancy of an idiot. They are now without meaning, without life and intelligence, for this reason and this only, that the minds, which once corresponded to them, and which gave them life and intelligence, are no more. By associa tion, therefore, we refer the meaning to the written characters or words, when in truth it is in the mind, and there alone.

§. 211. Benefit of examining such connections of thought:

It is of great importance to us to be able to separate ideas, which our situation and habits may have intimately combined together. To a person, who has this power in a considerable degree, we readily give the credit of possessing a clear and discriminating judgment. And this mental characteristic is of great consequence not only in pursuing the study of intellectual philosophy, but in the conduct of life. It is in particular directly subservient to the power of reasoning, since all processes of reasoning are made up of successive propositions, the comparison of which implies the exercise of judgment. The associations of thought, which have been mentioned in this chapter, are so intimate or rather almost indissoluble, that they try and discipline the mind in this respect,—they teach it to discriminate. They are worthy to be examined, therefore, and to be understood, not only for the immediate pleasure, which they afford in the discovery of our errours; but also because they have the effect of training up one's powers to some good purpose. Let a person be accustomed to making such discriminations as are implied in fully understanding the instances in this chapter, and he acquires a readiness, which is not easily outwitted; he trains himself to such a quickness of perception in finding out what truly belongs to an object and what does not, as will not allow him to be imposed upon by that confusion of ideas, which in so many cases distorts the judgments of the multitude.

§. 212. Power of the will over mental associations.

In view of what has been said in this and the preceding chapters, the inquiry naturally arises, What is the degree of influence, which we are able to exercise by mere will or volition over associated trains of thought? The answer to be given to this inquiry is, that we have no direct influence or power over them ;-there is a constant train of ideas, but their succession, their coming and departing depends on causes beyond our immediate voluntary control. The truth of the general statement, that we cannot

produce or call up an idea by a mere direct act of the will, and that, consequently, trains of ideas are not di rectly under its control, cannot but appear quite evident on a little reflection. We never can will the existence of any thing without knowing what it is which we will or choose. This requires no further proof than is contained in the proposition itself. Therefore, the expressions, to will to have a certain thought or train of thought, clearly imply the present existence of that thought or train; and, consequently, there can be no such thing as calling up and directing our thoughts by immediate volition.

To this view of want of direct voluntary power over our associated ideas and to the argument in support of it, those mental efforts, which we term recollection or intentional memory, have been brought up as an answer. In cases of intentional memory it will be said, an object or event is remembered, or, in other words, an idea or train of ideas is called up, by mere volition or choice. To this objection we make this reply. It is evident, before we attempt or make a formal effort to remember the particular circumstances of an event, that the event itself in general must have been the object of our attention. There is some particular thing in all cases of intentional remembrance, which we wish to call to mind, although we are totally unable to state what it is; but we know, that it is somehow connected with some general event, which we already have in memory. Now by revolving in mind the great facts or outlines of that event, it so happens, that the particular circumstance, which we were in search of, is called up. But certainly no one can say that this is done by a direct volition;-so far from it, that nothing more is wanted to explain it, than the common principles of association. This statement is illustrated, whenever, in reciting an extract which we had committed to memory, we are at a loss for the beginning of a particular sentence. In such a case we naturally repeat a number of times the concluding words of the preceding sentence, and very soon we recall the sentence, which was fost: not, however, by direct volition, but by association.

§. 213. Associations controlled by an indirect voluntary power.

But we would not be understood to say, that the will possesses no influence whatever over our trains of thought; its influence is very considerable, although it is not, as we have seen, immediate and direct. (1) We have, in the first place, the power of checking or delaying the succession of ideas. This power is always found to exist, when the direction of the mind towards a particular subject is attended with a feeling of desire or interest. We are not, indeed, enabled by our power in this respect either directly to call up or to banish any one or any number of our thoughts. But the consequence is, a variety of trains of thought are suggested, which would not have been suggested, had it not been for the circumstance of the original train being delayed. Thus, in the course of our mental associations, the name of Sir Isaac Newton occurs;-we experience a strong emotion of interest; aided by this interest, we check the current of our thoughts at that name, and we feel and are conscious, that we have within us the ability to do so. While we delay upon it, a variety of series of ideas occurs. At one moment, we think of eminent mathematicians and astronomers, for he himself was one; at another, we think of those cotemporaries, who were his particular friends, whatever their rank in science, because they lived at the same time; a moment after, our minds dwell upon some striking incidents in his life or some marked features in his social or intellectual character;-and again, we may be led to think, almost in the same instant, of some proposition or demonstration, which had once exercised his patience and skill. In consequence of delaying a few moments on the name or rather on the general idea of the man, these different trains of thought are presented; and we can evidently fix our minds upon one of these subjects, if we choose, or have a desire to, and dismiss the others. This is one way, in which by choice or volition we are able to exercise a considerable indirect power over our associations.

(2) We acquire, in the second place, great power over