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underflood, we can fay no otherwife, than that the idea is the thing we difcern.'
The fubftance of which our ideas are the modification, composes, in the opinion of our Author, a fet of material organs of a very fine and fubtile contexture, with which the mind, properly fo called, is furnished, by which it receives all its perceptions, and performs all its operations. These organs Mr. Search has called the mental organs, to diftinguish them from those which are ufually termed the bodily organs. The mental organs are of fo fine and fubtile a nature as to elude the difcernment of the niceft eye and the fineft glaffes. Senfation, reflection, judgment, imagination, the paffions, and the virtues, are only different modifications of them. Impreffions from external objects are conveyed by the fenfes to the mental organs, and tranfmitted by them to the feat of perception, where the mind refides in kingly state, receiving the notices thus communicated, and by the fame inftruments performing actions agreeable to them. The mind is invefted with two powers only, or rather, in philofophical fritnefs and propriety of fpeech, with one power, namely the will, and one capacity, namely the understanding, It perceives the various modifications of the mental organs, and acts according to the appearances which they exhibit. Our Readers will judge for themfelves of the probability of this fcheme, which, finding ourfelves unable to accompany the Author ftep by step through his admirable work, we have extracted from different parts of it. It is the foundation upon which he hath erected his building. The paffivity of the underftanding, and the correfpondent activity of the will, appear to be the main principles of his fyftem, which he hath explained and illuftrated with an aftonishing mixture of reafon and fancy, ferious arguments, witty allufions, plaufible conjectures, and humorous reprefentations.
Having difcourfed, in the firft chapter, on the Faculties of the Mind, he proceeds, in the following chapters, to confider, Action the Caufes of Action-Ideal Caufes--Motives-SatisfactionSenfation-Reflection - Combination of Ideas-Trains (usually ftyled Concatenation of Ideas)—Judgment-Imagination and Understanding-Conviction and Perfuafion-and Knowledge and Conception.
That the mind never acts but upon fome motive: and that fatisfaction is the ingredient which gives weight to our motives, are points which he has laboured to prove, in our opinion, with equal affiduity and fuccefs. In the chapter on Judgment we have a juft, though mortifying, reprefentation of the fallibility and uncertainty of human knowledge: which ought not to make us doubt of the clear judgments of our understanding, but only to make us acknowledge a poffibility of their being erroneous and this, if not overlooked, muft prevent every man
from being fo wedded to an opinion as to turn a deaf ear upon all evidence that can be offered against it.'
Though fenfations which are conveyed to it from external objects furnish the mind with its firft ideas; reflection increases its ftock, which runs into various affortments, and produces other ideas different from the reft whereout they fpring; whence we quickly become provided with ftore of affemblages, affociations, trains, and judgments.' Thefe ftores, together with the repofitory containing them, Mr. Search ftyles, the Imagination. Among the ideas which are brought into view by fome fenfation, or ftart up of their own accord, fome, being more engaging than the reft, attract the notice particularly to themfelves: the mental eye fingles them out from the whole scene exhibited before it, fees them in a ftronger light, holds them longer in view, and thereby gives occafion to their introducing more of their own affociates than they could have done in the rapidity of their natural course. This operation of the notice being frequently repeated, at length becomes itself an object of our obfervation, and thus we difcover a power we have of heightening the colour of our ideas, of changing or directing their courfe by the application of our notice: and the exercise of this power I take to be what is commonly meant by an act of the understanding.' The diftinction between imagination. and understanding is further explained in another fection. This then is the diftinction I would make between the ftores of knowledge contained in our mind. Thofe that have an aptnefs to rise up fpontaneously, or be introduced inftantly by fenfation, whether originally depofited by cuftom, experience, or our own industry, I would affign to imagination; and their rif ing in fuch manner I fhould deem a movement of imagination, On the other hand, those which lie below the furface, and require fome thought and reflection, be it ever fo little, to fetch them up, conceive belonging to the understanding; and that operation whereby they are fo brought to light, I call an act of understanding.
• Perhaps this allotment of the boundaries between the two faculties may be thought arbitrary, and not warranted by any lawful authority; but I do not apprehend authority has yet interfered in the cafe: for though we often diftinguish between understanding and imagination in our difcourfes, yet we as often use them promifcuoufly, and affign the fame territories and operations to the one or the other, according to the humour we are in, or according to the light in which we happen to take things. Therefore, in a matter fo unfettled, every one is at li berty to do as he pleafes, and I have chofen that partition which I think will be moft convenient for the course I am following,
in bringing ourselves acquainted with the nature of the human mind.'
In the fecond part of the first volume Mr. Search resumes the confideration of Motives. The fubjects on which he treats are the Compofition of Motives-Species of Motives-Production of Motives-Tranflation-Sympathy-Introduction of Motives -Paffions-Pleafure-Ufe-Honour-Neceffity --ReasonTemperance-Juftice-Benevolence-and Moral Policy. The Ultimate Good, that is, the good which ftands at the very end of our wishes, and contents the mind without reference to any thing further, is pleafure, or fatisfaction: all other things. are defirable only as they tend, by themselves or in their confequences, to procure it. But in a variety of instances our defires are transferred from the end to the means, which then become motives of themselves, without needing any further inducement to recommend them.' This is the fubject on which our Author treats in the chapter entitled, Tranflation: and in his opinion, it may not be impoffible to make it appear, that all the motives actuating us in our riper years, except fenfations of pleasure and pain, or our natural and acquired appetites, are of the tranflated kind. Through this channel,' he adds, we derive most of our taftes, inclinations, fentiments, moral fenfes, checks of confcience, obligations, impulfes of fancy, attachments to profeffions, fondness for diverfions, regard to reputation, views of prudence, virtues and vices, and, in general, all thofe pursuits, whether of diftant or prefent aims, that render the occupations of men different from the amusements of children.'
The following is the account which Mr. Search gives of the rife of habits and paffions. In his chapter on the Introduction of Motives, he obferves, If we examine our proceedings carefully, we fhall find in all of them a mixture of volition and machinery, and perhaps the latter bearing a greater share than the former. We never enter upon an undertaking without fome purpose starting up in our thoughts, or recommended by the prefent occafion as expedient or agreeable; we choose the meafures for accomplishing it from among the ftores prefented by our understanding; and though we perform the work by our own activity, yet our manner of proceeding is fuch as former practice has made ready to us, and the minute fteps neceffary for compleating it rife mechanically in our imagination. Our la tent motives, which bear fo great a fway in the behaviour of most men, cannot owe their appearance to the mind, because they escape her obfervation when fhe would difcover them and our minute motives prompting us to inadvertent actions, which are far more numerous than commonly fuppofed, must take rise
from fome other spring, because the mind perceives them not the moment before they operate, nor remembers them the mo❤ ment after. Nor are the groffer parts of our machine without their influence upon our actions: the natural temperament of our conftitutión, the accidental condition of our humours, the brifk or flow circulation of our animal fpirits, the circumftances of health or ficknefs, frefhnefs or wearinefs, fulness or emptiness, render the mind alert or unapt for exercife, turn imagination into different trains, excite defires of various kinds, and in great measure model the fhape of our behaviour.
Since there is so close a connection between the parts of our machine acted upon by the mind, and thofe moved by the animal circulation, it follows that each must have an influence upon the other. Our vital fpirits, according as they stand difpofed, force a particular kind of ideas upon the mind, and the latter, in every exertion of her power, caufes an alteration in the courfes of the former: fometimes defignedly, but oftner as a natural confequence of fomething elfe the intends. He that runs, means only to arrive the fooner at the place whither he would go; but, befides this, he quickens his pulfe, heats his flefh, and puts himself out of breath, effects which he did not think of, nor perhaps fhould have enfued, had it been at his option to have helped them. The like happens on other exercifes of our activity, which propagate a motion to the several parts of our body correfponding refpectively with the organs employed in those exercises; and thefe parts, by frequently receiving fuch motions, become difpofed to fall into them again mechanically, or upon the flightelt touch, and thereby excite the fame ideas that generated them. From hence arise our habits, which though learned at first by single, but perhaps inadvertent, acts of the mind, yet recur upon us afterwards involuntarily. Hence, likewife, fpring the paffions, which I take to be only a ftronger fort of habits acquired early in our childhood, when the matter of our compofition, being tender and pliable, may be worked eafily into new channels wherein the animal fpirits may flow more copioufly. For I do not imagine that Nature gave us paffions; fhe may indeed have made each man more fufceptible of one fort than another, but they are brought into form by the action of the mind bending her notice continually to particular fets of objects. Just as Nature may have prepared one man for a dancer by giving him ftrength and fuppleness in his joints, or another for a finger, by giving him a clear and fonorous voice: but it is art and practice that invest them with the refpective faculties of dancing or finging.'
The concluding chapter of this volume is entitled, Limitation of Vitue in which the Author ingenuously acknowledges that though what he has faid may have a tendency to recommend
virtue as the most desirable object a man can purfue, yet there may be fituations and circumftances imagined, in which, according to the doctrine he has advanced, the obligation of virtue would cease. For though it be certain that nothing contributes so much even to perfonal fatisfaction or happiness as virtue, yet if virtue fhould in any inftance expofe to the lofs of life, and thereby take away all capacity of enjoyment, there could remain no fufficient inducement, in that inftance, to the practice of it. To prevent the unfavourable impreffions which this conclufion might leave on the minds of his Readers, Mr. Search has given them the following caution in his introducI do not pretend infenfibility to reputation, but my first and principal with is to be of fome little service to my fellow creatures, by fuggesting fome observations which they may improve to their advantage; and my greatest concern, to avoid doing hurt by misleading into notions of dangerous tendency. Under this caution, I muft warn the Reader againft judging too haftily upon the last chapter of this volume, for I fhould be very forry to have him take his idea of virtue from the very exceptionable figure wherein the is reprefented there. But he will please to obferve that I proceed folely upon the view of human nature, without any confideration of religion or another world, and will expect no compleater edifice than can be erected upon fuch a scanty bottom: and that he may not fit down with a notion of my believing the plan of morality ought to lie upon no other ground, I entreat his attention to the two concluding fections of that chapter; from whence he may augurate that I have a larger fcheme in referve, whereon my building will make a very different appearance from what he fees it here; and poffibly it may be fhewn in good time that I had my reafons for drawing this imperfect sketch before I proceeded to defigns more extenfive.'
We, who have gone through the whole of this ingenious Writer's performance, can vouch for him to our Readers, that in the fequel of his work, he will re-enlarge the empire of virtue, and place her authority upon as extenfive and immoveable a foundation as her rational admirers can wish.
[To be continued.]
A Reprefentation of the Injustice and dangerous Tendency of tolerating Slavery; or of admitting the leaft Claim of private Property in the Perfons of Men, in England. In four Parts. Containing, 1. Remarks on an Opinion given by the then Attorney General and Solicitor General, concerning the Cafe of Slaves in Great Britain. II. Answer to an Objection, made to the foregoing Remarks. III.