very extensive sense, if we make the Train of our Thoughts to be only a Train of Ideas. (See Art. 36. Illus. 1, 2, and 3.)

407. To pass from the name, and consider the thing, we may observe, that the TRAINS OF THOUGHT in the mind are of two kinds :

First, they are either such as flow spontaneously, like water from a fountain, without any exertion of a governing principle to arrange them. (Art. 202.)

Or, secondly, they are regulated and directed by an active effort of the mind, with some view and intention. (Art. 203 and 224.)

Obs. Before we consider these in their order, it is proper to premise, that these two kinds, how distinct soever in their nature, are for the most part mixed, in persons awake and come to years of understanding. (See Art. 199.)

Illus. 1. On the one hand, we are rarely so vacant of all project and design, as to let our Thoughts take their own course without the least check or direction; or if at any time we should be in this state, some object will present itself, which is too interesting not to engage the attention, and rouse the active or contemplative powers that were at rest. (Art. 201.)

2. On the other hand, when a man is giving the most intense application to any speculation, or to any scheme of conduct, when he wishes to exclude every thought that is foreign to his present purpose; such Thoughts will often impertinently intrude upon him, in spite of his endeavors to the contrary, and occupy, by a kind of violence, some part of the time destined to another purpose. One man may have the command of his Thoughts more than another man, and the same man, more at one time than at another; but I apprehend, that in the best trained mind, the Thoughts will sometimes be restive, sometimes capricious and self-willed, even when it is wished to have them most under command.

408. We must ascribe to Him who made us, and not to the mind, the power of calling up any Thought at pleasure, because such a call or volition supposes that Thought to be already in the mind; for otherwise, how should it be the object of volition? As this must be granted on the one hand, so it is no less certain on the other, that a man has a considerable power in regulating and disposing his own Thoughts. Of this every man is conscious, and I can no more doubt of it, than I can doubt whether I think now, as I was obliged 'to think when I wrote the Illustration to Article 90.

Illus. 1. We seem to treat the Thoughts that present themselves to the Fancy in crowds, as a great man treats the persons who attend his levee. They are all ambitious of his attention; he goes round the circle, bestowing a bow upon one, a smile upon another; asks a short question of a third; while a fourth is honored with a particular

conference; and the greater part have no particular mark of attention, but go as they came. It is true, he can give no mark of his attention to those who were not there, but he has a sufficient number for making à choice and distinction.

2. In like manner, a number of Thoughts present themselves to the Fancy spontaneously; but if we pay no attention to them, if we hold no conference with them, they pass with the crowd, and are immediately forgotten, as if they had never appeared. But those to which we think proper to pay attention, may be stopped, examined, and arranged, for any particular purpose which we have in view. (See Chap. VI. Book I.)

409. It may likewise be observed, that a Train of Thought, which was at first composed by application and judgment, when it has been often repeated, and becomes familiar, will present itself spontaneously. Thus, when a man has composed an air in music, so as to please his own ear-after he has played or sung it often--the notes will arrange themselves in just order; and it requires no effort to regulate their succession. (See Art. 136, and Art. 128. Illus.)

Illus. Thus we see, that the Fancy is made up of Trains of Thinking; some of which are spontaneous, others studied and regulated; and the greater part are mixed of both kinds, and take their denomination from that which is most prevalent; and that a Train of Thought, which at first was studied and composed, may by habit present itself spontaneously. (See Art. 130.)

I. Of Spontaneous Trains of Thought.

410. When the work of the day is over, and a man lies down to relax his body and mind, he cannot cease from Thinking, though he desire it. Something occurs to his Fancy, that is followed by another thing; and so his Thoughts are carried on from one object to another, until sleep closes the scene.

Illus. In this operation of the mind, it is not one faculty only that is employed; there are many that join together in its production. Sometimes the transactions of the day are brought upon the stage, and acted over again, as it were, upon this theatre of the Imagination. In this case, Memory surely acts the most considerable part, since the scenes exhibited are not fictions, but realities, which are remembered; yet in this case the Memory does not act aloneother powers are employed, and attend upon their proper objects. The transactions remembered will be more or less interesting; and we cannot then review our own conduct, nor that of others, without passing some judgment upon it. This we approve, that we disapprove. (Art. 355.) This elevates, that humbles and depresses us. (Art. 359.) Persons that are not absolutely indifferent to us, can hardly appear, even to the Imagination, without some friendly or unfriendly emotion. (Art. 360.) We judge and reason about

things as well as persons in such reveries. We remember what a man said and did; from this we pass to his designs, and to his general character, and frame some hypothesis to make the whole consistent. Such Trains of Thought we may call Historical. (See Example, Art. 359.)

411. There are others which we may call romantic, in which the plot is formed by the creative power of Fancy, without any regard to what did or what will happen. In these, also, the powers of judgment, taste, moral sentiment, as well as the passions and affections, come in and take a share in the execution. (See Art. 264. Illus. 1 and 2.)

Illus. 1. In these scenes, the man himself commonly acts a very distinguished part, and seldom does any thing that he does not approve. Here the miser will be generous, the coward brave, and the knave honest. Mr. Addison, in the Spectator, calls this play of the Fancy, castle-building.

2. A castle-builder, in his fictitious scenes, will figure, not according to his real character, but according to the highest opinion he has been able to form of himself, and perhaps far beyond that opinion. For in those imaginary conflicts the passions easily yield to reason, and a man exerts the noblest efforts of virtue and magnanimity, with the same ease as, in his dreams, he flies through the air, or plunges to the bottom of the ocean.

412. The Romantic scenes of Fancy are most commonly the occupation of young minds, not yet so deeply engaged in life as to have their Thoughts taken up by its real cares and business. (See Art. 275 and 269.)

Ilius. 1. Those active powers of the mind, which are most luxuriant by constitution, or have been most cherished by education, impatient to exert themselves, hurry the Thought into scenes that give them play; and the boy commences in Imagination, according to the bent of his mind, a general or a statesman, a poet or an orator. (See Art. 276.)

2. When the Fair Ones become castle-builders, they use different materials; and while the young soldier is carried into the field of Mars, where he pierces the thickest squadrons of the enemy, despising death in all its forms; the gay and lovely nymph, whose heart has never felt the tender passion, is transported into a brilliant assembly, where she draws the attention of every eye, and makes an impression on the noblest heart.

3. But no sooner has Cupid's arrow found its way into her heart, than the whole scenery of her Imagination is changed. Balls and assemblies have now no charms. Woods and groves, the flowery bank and the crystal fountain, are the scenes she frequents in Imagination. She becomes an Arcadian shepherdess, feeding her bleating flock beside that of her Strephon, and wishes for nothing more to complete her present happiness.

4. In a few years the love-sick maid is transformed into the solicitous mother. Her smiling offspring play around her. She views

them with a parent's eye. Her Imagination immediately raises them to manhood, and brings them forth upon the stage of life. One son makes a figure in the army, another shines at the bar; her daughters are happily disposed of in marriage, and bring new alliances to the family. Her" children's children " rise up before her, and venerate her gray hairs.

Corol. Thus, the spontaneous sallies of Fancy are as various as the cares and fears, the desires and hopes, of man.

Illus. 5. These fill up the scenes of Fancy, as well as the page of the satirist. Whatever possesses the heart, makes occasional excursions into the Imagination, and acts such scenes upon that theatre as are agreeable to the prevailing passion. The man of traffic, who has committed a rich cargo to the inconstant ocean, follows it in his thought; and, according as his hopes or his fears prevail, he is haunted with storms, and rocks, and shipwreck; or he makes a happy and a lucrative voyage, and before his vessel has lost sight of land, he has disposed of the profit which she is to bring at her return.

6. The poet is carried into the Elysian fields, where he converses with the ghosts of Homer and Orpheus. The philosopher makes a tour through the planetary system, or goes down to the centre of the earth, and examines its various strata. In the devout man, likewise, the great objects that possess his heart often play in his Imagination; sometimes he is transported to the regions of the blessed, from whence he looks down with pity upon the folly and the pageantry of human life; or he prostrates himself, with devout veneration, before the throne of the Most High; or he converses with celestial spirits about the natural and moral kingdom of God, which he now sees only by a faint light, but hopes hereafter to view with a steadier and a clearer eye.

413. In persons arrived at maturity, there is, even in these spontaneous sallies of Fancy, some arrangement of Thought; and I conceive that it will be readily allowed, that, in those who have the greatest stock of knowledge, and the best natural parts, even the spontaneous movements of Fancy will be the most regular and connected. They have an order, connection, and unity, by which they are no less distinguished from the dreams of one asleep, or the ravings. of one delirious, on the one hand, than from the finished productions of art on the other.

Corol. 1. It is, therefore, in itself highly probable, to say no more of the matter, that whatsoever is regular and rational in a Train of Thought, which, without any study, presents itself spontaneously to a man's Fancy, is a copy of what had been before composed by his own rational powers, or those of some other person. (Illus. 2. Art. 264.)

Example. We certainly judge so in similar cases. Thus, in a book I find a Train of Thinking, which has the marks of knowledge and judgment. I ask how it was produced. It is printed in a book. This does not satisfy me, because the book has neither knowledge nor reason. I am told that a printer printed it, and a compositor set the

types. Neither does this satisfy me. These causes, perhaps, knew very little of the subject. There must be a prior cause of the composition. It was printed from a manuscript. True; but the manuscript is as ignorant as the printed book. The manuscript was written or dictated by a man of knowledge and judgment. Such a Train of Thinking could not originally be produced by any cause that neither reasons nor thinks.

Corol. 2. Whether such a Train of Thinking be printed in a book, or printed, so to speak, in his mind, and issue spontaneously from his Fancy, it must have been composed with judgment by himself, or by some other rational being.

II. Of a regular Train of Thought.

414. By a regular Train of Thought, we mean that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, and an arrangement of its parts, according to some rule, or with some intention. Thus the conception of a design, and of the means of executing it; the conception of a whole, and the number and order of the parts-are instances of the most simple Trains of Thought that can be called regular.

Illus. Man has, undoubtedly, a power (whether we call it taste or judgment, is not of any consequence in the present argument) whereby he distinguishes between a composition and a heap of materials; between a house, for instance, and a heap of stones; between a sentence and a heap of words; between a picture and a heap of colors. Children have no regular Trains of Thought until judgment begins to operate. Those who are born such idiots as never to show any signs of judgment, show as few signs of regularity of Thought. It seems, therefore, that judgment is connected with all regular Trains of Thought, and may be the cause of them.

415. Such Trains of Thought discover themselves in children about two years of age. They can then give attention to the operations of older children in making their little houses and ships, and other such things, in imitation of the works of men.

Illus. 1. They are then capable of understanding a little of language, which shows both a regular Train of Thinking, and some degree of abstraction. I think we may perceive a distinction between the facul ties of children of two or three years of age and those of the most sagacious brutes. They can then perceive design and regularity in the works of others, especially of older children; their little minds are fired with the discovery; they are eager to imitate it, and never at rest till they can exhibit something of the same kind.

2. When a child first learns by imitation to do something that requires design, how does he exult! Pythagoras was not more happy in the discovery of his famous theorem. He seems then first to reflect upon himself, and to swell with self-esteem. His eyes sparkle