one of these must be, that there is an uniformity or order of progression, in the sequences of nature, which indicates purpose or plan; and the belief, therefore, which the mind fixes upon this observation, is in the highest degree rational, and perfectly explicable.

I am not either disposed to deny that there is truth, in part, in the theory, which resolves the instantaneous belief of causation, into the influence of a customary habit of thought. Certainly, the sequences of the natural world are so constant, that we must acquire the habit of passing, in thought, from cause to effect without at every moment stopping to trace the connexion-in the same way, as we pass from a word to its signification, by mere custom, without constantly recollecting that the signification of the word is not accidental but designed. We know, however, whenever we stop a moment to think, that our only reason for affixing the meaning to the word which we believe it to have, is, that men have given it this meaning; and, in like manner, the only reason, which we have, for supposing a natural cause to be indicative of the succeeding effect, is because we know that it is established or fixed so to be, that there is an ar

rangement by which the one is made to follow the other; and, however our minds may habitually run on from the one to the other without any thought at all, yet, whenever we do think, this observation of arrangement, purpose, intention, must be the latent foundation of that confidence or belief, with which we consider the one as the sign or indication of the other. Nor, if the subject is candidly considered, and without any purpose of cavil or controversy, can I see any reasonable objection to this simple explanation of what has been looked upon as something very perplexing and mysterious.

V. The principle which I have endeavoured to establish has thus, I am disposed to think, cleared away the appearances of difficulty and mystery from the questions, respecting our belief, in the continuance of the order of nature, and in the uniform succession of cause and effect. There is another question, in the philosophy of the mind, which has likewise been involved in great mystery, and to which, I think, the same principle supplies an easy solution. I mean, the much-contested subject of GENERAL IDEAS. There seemed to be something so extravagant, in the mysticism of the Pla

tonic school,* in which a general idea was represented as an existence separate from individuals, and even spoken of as discerned in the Deity,—that the moderns have, for the most part, gone to the opposite extreme, of supposing, that there is no such a thing as a general idea at all, and that what passes as such, is only the same name, given to a great many resembling individuals.†

I am inclined, however, to think that the views of the ancient philosophy on this point come nearer the truth than those of our modern schools, which labour under the imperfection of not stating the complete fact, and do not perceive the whole that is included in the relation of resemblance. The Platonists had, at least, the merit of trying to reach that more perfect conception; and, mystical as their language is, it in reality points to the sound view of the subject. When we see a great many resembling objects, the irresistible impression upon our minds is, that they were meant to resemble,-that this uniformity of their likeness is not casual, or accidental,—and that, of whatever number they may consist, they may yet be considered as one

See Note H.

+ See Note 1.

object, in their model or design. This is, in truth, all that is meant by a general idea,—but we do not reach that conception, if, in resembling objects, we do not include the notion of one purpose or design, but conceive, that the only bond of union between them is their being classed under a common name. If purpose did not enter into the impression received from resemblances, there would not be any ingredient, sufficiently one and indivisible, to entitle resembling objects to a common name.-This is the only tie which binds them together, so as to justify those metaphysical refinements, in some measure, by which the Platonists endeavour to educe the one out of the many.

In the plain statement, now made, of this seeming difficulty, it becomes perfectly level to the most common understanding. Every one knows what is meant, by the design or idea, with which a watchmaker, or any other artist, forms a watch or any other mechanical contrivance, and has no difficulty in comprehending how the one design runs through the whole, however numerous the individual productions may be. Now, if, as I have endeavoured to prove, the apprehension of design, in natural objects, is as constantly before the mind, as in the

formations of human art, when we arrange in our minds animals of one sort together, or trees of one sort together, as if the whole sort was only one individual thing to which we affix, accordingly, one name, what is it that we mean, but that there was only one model or plan, upon which each of the sorts was contrived?

In this way, we may see what Plato, and such lofty-minded philosophers, are aiming at, when they say, that general ideas are the ideas of the Divine Mind. If it is meant, that we actually perceive them in the Divine Mind, this may be a sublime flight, but it is extravagant and unintelligible. It is difficult to comprehend, how any mind can perceive the thought of any other mind, whether it be general or particular. I may have a notion what another person is thinking about, but I must make his supposed thoughts my own, before I can perceive them,―for to perceive a thought or idea is nothing else than to think it. In looking over natural objects, we form to ourselves a notion of the plan or model upon which they are formed,-and that is our general idea of them. This is, in a certain rude sense, the idea of the Divine Mind, not certainly perceived there, and, at the best, but a most