OF

CRITICISM.

CHAPTER I.

PERCEPTIONS AND IDEAS IN A TRAIN.

AMA MAN while awake is confcious of a continued train of perceptions and ideas paffing in his mind. It requires no activity on his part to carry on the train: nor can he at will add any idea to the train 1. At the fame time we learn from daily experience,

'For how fhould this be done? what idea is it that we are to add? If we can fpecify the idea, that idea is al ready in the mind, and there is no occafion for any act of the will. If we cannot fpecify any idea, I next demand, how can a perfon will, or to what purpofe, if there be nothing in view? We cannot form a conception of fuch a thing. If this argument need confirmation, I urge experience whoever makes a trial will find, that ideas are linked together in the mind, forming a connected chain; and that we have not the command of any idea independent of the chain.

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VOL. I.

B

that the train of our thoughts is not regulated by chance and if it depend not upon will' nor upon chance, by what law is it governed? The question is of importance in the fcience of human nature; and I promife beforehand, that it will be found of great importance in the fine arts.

It appears, that the relations by which things are linked together, have a great influence in directing the train of thought. Taking a view of external objects, their inherent properties are not more remarkable, than the various relations that connect them together: Caufe and effect, contiguity in time or in place, high and low, prior and pofterior, refemblance, contraft, and a thoufand other relations, connect things together without end. Not a fingle thing appears folitary and altogether devoid of connexion: the only difference is that fome are imtimately connected, fome more flightly; fome near, fome at a diflance.

Experience will fatisfy us of what reafon makes probable, that the train of our thoughts is in a great meafure regulated by the foregoing relations: an external object is no fooner prefented to us in idea, than it fuggefts to the mind other objects to which it is related; and in that manner is a train of thoughts compofed. Such is the law of fucceffion; which must be natural, becaufe it governs all human beings, The law however feems not to be inviolable: it fometimes happens that an idea

arifes in the mind without any perceived connection; as for example, after a profound fleep.

But though we cannot add to the train an un conne&ed idea, yet in a measure we can attend to fome ideas, and difmifs others. There are few things but what are connected with many others; and when a thing thus connected becomes a fubjea of thought, it commonly fuggefts many of its connexions among thefe a choice is afforded; we can infift upon one; rejecting others; and fometimes we infift on what is commonly held the flighter connexion. Where ideas are left to their natural courfe, they are continued through the ftricteft connexions: the mind extends its view to a fon more readily than to a fervant; and more readily to a neighbour than to one living at a dif-, tance: This order, as obferved, may be varied by will, but fill within the limits of related objects; for though we can vary the order of a natural train, we cannot diffolve the train altogether, by carrying on our thoughts in a loofe manner without any connexion. So far doth our power extend; and that power is fufficient for all useful purposes to have more power, would probably be hurtful inftead of being falutary.

Will is not the only caufe that prevents a train of thought from being continued through the ftricteft connexions: much depends on the prefent tone of mind; for a fubject that accords with that tone is always welcome. Thus, in goodfpi

rits, a chearful subject will be introduced by the flighteft connexion; and one that is melancholy, no lefs readily in low fpirits: an interesting fubject is recalled, from time to time, by any connexion indifferently, ftrong or weak; which is finely touched by Shakspeare, with relation to a rich cargo at fea :

My wind, cooling my broth,

Would blow me to an ague, When I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at fea.
I fhould not fee the fandy hour glafs run,
But I should think of fhallows and of flats;
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church,
And fee the holy edifice of ftone,

And not bethink me ftrait of dangerous rocks?
Which touching but my gentle veffel's fide,
Would fcatter all the fpices on the fiream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks;
And, in a word, but now worth this,
And now worth nothing.

Merchant of Venice, at 1. fc. I.

Another caufe clearly diflinguishable from that now mentioned, hath alfo a confiderable influence to vary the natural train of ideas; which is, that in the minds of fome perfons, thoughts and circumflances crowd upon each other by the flightcft connexions. I afcribe this to a bluntness in the difcerning faculty: for a perfon who cannot accu

rately diftinguish between a flight connexion and one that is more intimate, is equally affected by each fuch a perfon muft neceffarily have a great flow of ideas, because they are introduced by any relations indifferently; and the flighter relations, being without number, furnish ideas without end. Tis doctrine is, in a lively manner, illuftrated by Shakspeare:

Falstaff. What is the grofs fum that I owe thee? Hoftefs. Marry, if thou wert an honeft man, thyself and thy money too. Thou didft fwear to me on a parcel-gilt goblet, fitting in my Dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a fea-coal fire, on Wednesday in Whitfun-week, when the Prince broke thy head for likening him to a finging man of Windfor, thou didst fwear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my Lady thy wife. Canft thou deny it? Did not Goodwife Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then, and call me Goflip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us fhe had a good difh of prawns; whereby thou didft defire to eat fome; whereby I told thee they were ill for a green wound. And didst not thou, when he was gone down ftairs, defire me to be no more fo familiarity with fuch poor people, faying, that ere long they fhould call me Madam? And didft thou not kifs me, and bid me fetch thee thirty fhillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath, deny it if Second part, Henry IV. ad 2. fc. 2.

thou canft?

On the other hand, a man of accurate judgement cannot have a great flow of ideas; becaule