the latter, not to the former, and which depends not on the will, nor can be commanded at pleasure. It must be excited by nature, like all other fentiments; and must arife from the particular situation, in which the mind is placed at any particular juncture. Whenever any object is prefented to the me mory or fenfes, it immediately, by the force of cuftom, car ries the imagination to conceive that object, which is usually conjoined to it; and this conception is attended with a feeling or fentiment, different from the loose reveries of the fancy. In this confifts the whole nature of belief. For as there is no matter of fact which we believe fo firmly, that we cannot conceive the contrary, there would be no difference between the conception affented to, and that which is rejected, were it not for fome fentiment, which distinguishes the one from the other. If I fee a billiard-ball moving towards another, on a smooth table, I can easily conceive it to stop upon contact. This con ception implies no contradiction; but ftill it feels very diffe rently from that conception, by which I represent to myself the impulfe, and the communication of motion from one ball

to another

Were we to attempt a definition of this fentiment, we should, perhaps, find it a very difficult, if not an impoffible task; in the fame manner as if we should endeavour to define the feeling of cold or paffion of anger, to a creature who never had an experience of these fentiments. BELIEF is the true and proper name of this feeling; and no one is ever at a lofs to know the meaning of that term; because every man is every moment conscious of the fentiment represented by it. It may not, however, be improper to attempt a defcription of this sentiment; in hopes we may, by that means, arrive at some ana

logies,

The

logies, which may afford a more perfect explication of it. I say then, that belief is nothing but a more vivid, lively, foreible, firm, fteady conception of an object, than what the imagination alone is ever able to attain. This variety of terms, which may feem fo unphilofophical, is intended only to express that act of the mind, which renders realities, or what is taken for fuch, more prefent to us than fictions, caufes them. to weigh more in the thought, and gives them a superior influence on the paffions and imagination. Provided we agree about the thing, 'tis needless to dispute about the terms. imagination has the command over all its ideas, and can join and mix and vary them, in all the ways poffible. It may conceive fictitious objects with all the circumstances of place and time. It may fet them, in a manner, before our eyes, in their true colours, just as they might have exifted. But as it is impoffible, that that faculty of imagination can ever, of itself, reach belief, 'tis evident, that belief confifts not in the peculiar nature or order of ideas, but in the manner of their conception and in their feeling to the mind. I confefs, that 'tis impoffible perfectly to explain this feeling or manner of conception. We may make use of words, which exprefs fomething near it. But its true and proper name, as we obferved before, is belief; which is a term, that every one fufficiently understands in common life. And in philosophy, we can go no farther than af fert, that belief is something felt by the mind, which distinguishes the ideas of the judgment from the fictions of the ima gination. It gives them more force and influence; makes them appear of greater importance; inforces them in the mind; and renders them the governing principle of all our actions. I hear at prefent, for inftance, a perfon's voice with

5

whom

room.

whom I am acquainted; and the found comes as from the next This impreffion of my fenfes immediately conveys my thought to the person, together with all the surrounding objects. I paint them out to myself as existing at present, with the fame qualities and relations, of which I formerly knew them poffeft. These ideas take fafter hold of my mind, than ideas of an inchanted caftle. They are very different to the feeling, and have a much greater influence of every kind, either to give pleasure or pain, joy or forrow.

Let us, then, take in the whole compafs of this doctrine, and allow, that the sentiment of belief is nothing but a conception of an object more intense and steady than what attends the mere fictions of the imagination, and that this manner of conception arifes from a customary conjunction of the object with fomething present to the memory or fenfes : I believe that it will not be difficult, upon these fuppofitions, to find other operations of the mind analogous to it, and to trace up these phænomena to principles ftill more general.

We have already observed, that nature has established connexions among particular ideas, and that no fooner one idea occurs to our thoughts than it introduces its correlative, and carries our attention towards it, by a gentle and infenfible movement. These principles of connexion or affociation we have reduced to three, viz. Refemblance, Contiguity, and Caufation; which are the only bonds, that unite our thoughts together, and beget that regular train of reflection or discourse, which, in a greater or lefs degree, takes place among all mankind. Now here arifes a question, on which the folution of the prefent difficulty will depend. Does it happen, in all thefe

thefe relations, that, when one of the objects is prefented to the senses or memory, the mind is not only carried to the conception of the correlative, but reaches a fteadier and stronger conception of it than what otherwife it would have been able to attain ? This seems to be the cafe with that belief, which arifes from the relation of caufe and effect. And if the cafe be the fame with the other relations or principles of affociation,. this may be established as a general law, which takes place in < all the operations of the mind.

We may, therefore, obferve, as the first experiment to our prefent purpose, that upon the appearance of the picture of an absent friend, our idea of him is evidently enlivened by the resemblance, and that every paffion, which that idea occafions, whether of joy or forrow, acquires new force and vigour. In producing this effect, there concur both a relation and a prefent impreffion. Where the picture bears him no refemblance, or at least was not intended for him, it never fo much as con-veys our thought to him: And where it is abfent, as well as the perfon; though the mind may pafs from the thought of the one to that of the other; it feels its idea to be rather weakened than enlivened by that tranfition. We take a plea- : fure in viewing the picture of a friend, when 'tis fet before us;: when 'tis removed, rather chufe to confider him directly, than by reflection in an image, which is equally distant and obfcure.

The ceremonies of the ROMAN CATHOLIC religion may Be confidered as experiments of the fame nature. The de votees of that fuperftition usually plead in excufe of the mum-meries, with which they are upbraided, that they feel the good effect of thofe external motions, and poftures, and actions, in

enliven

1

enlivening their devotion and quickening their fervor, which otherwife would decay, if directed intirely to distant and immaterial objects. We fhadow out the objects of our faith, say they, in fenfible types and images, and render them more prefent to us by the immediate presence of these types, than 'tis poffible for us to do, merely by an intellectual view and contemplation. Senfible objects have always a greater influence on the fancy than any other; and this influence they readily convey to those ideas, to which they are related, and which they resemble. I fhall only infer from these practices, and this reafoning, that the effect of resemblance in enlivening the ideas is very common; and as in every cafe a resemblance and a present impreffion must concur, we are abundantly supplied with experiments to prove the reality of the foregoing principle.

We may add force to thefe experiments by others of a different kind, in confidering the effects of contiguity as well as of refemblance. 'Tis certain that distance diminishes the force of every idea, and that upon our approach to any object; though it does not discover itself to our fenfes; it operates upon the mind with an influence, which intimates an immediate impreffion. The thinking on any object readily transports the mind to what is contiguous; but 'tis only the actual prefence of an object, that transports it with a fuperior vivacity. When I am a few miles from home, whatever relates to it touches me more nearly than when I am two hundred leagues diftant; though even at that distance the reflecting on any thing in the neighbourhood of my friends or family naturally produces an idea of them. But as in this latter cafe, both the objects of the mind are ideas; notwithstanding there

is