only images of disappointed hope and speedy dissolution. To the cheerful man even the gloom of winter awakens the anticipations of returning spring, and he thinks only of the contrast which, in a few months, will renew the whole face of nature.

It is, in this manner, by the combination of these several laws, that the train of thought is directed. As these various causes operate with unequal power at different times, and are modified by each other, and by the present circumstances of each individual, there arises an infinite variety in the modes of mental association. Hence we should consider it almost miraculous if two men should be affected in exactly the same manner in precisely the same circumstances, so that they should give utterance to their sentiments in the same language. Yet, while all this diversity is known to exist, we are conscious that it is still governed by laws; for we recognize in an instant an abnormal or incoherent association, and attribute it at once either to idiocy or insanity. So delicate are our mental instincts, that he who knows nothing of the laws of association is intuitively aware when they are violated.

It is on the perfection of this delicate instinct, which spontaneously recognizes all the laws of association, that the power of the dramatist essentially depends. He forms conceptions of a variety of characters, and places them in circumstances designed to call forth the intensest emotion. But these circumstances will affect each individual according to his peculiar idiosyncrasy. The dramatic poet has the power of throwing himself into each character, and of feeling instinctively the emotions to which such a human being, under such circumstances, would give utterance. This is one of the rarest gifts with which genius is ever endowed. It is to this power that Shakspeare owes his preeminence. Considered simply as a poet, there are other men of genius

with whom he may come into comparison; but in dramatic exhibition of character he stands, by confession, without a rival.

"Our Shakspeare's magic could not copied be;

Within that circle none dare walk but he."

It may seem, from what I have said, that association evinces a power beyond our control, and that hence we are not responsible for our trains of thought, or the consequences to which they lead. This inference, it is almost unnecessary to add, is unwarranted. By association ideas are suggested, but it still depends on our own volition to determine whether the suggestion shall be heeded. A thought is presented by the law of association; we may accept or reject it. Two dissimilar thoughts are suggested, and we may select either of them at our option. When a particular association is followed repeatedly, we form the habit of thinking in that particular train; but the formation of that habit depended, at each successive step, upon our own will. It is, then, evident that the formation of our characters, whether intellectual or moral, is dependent on ourselves. Hence it is that circumstances are said to form men; that is, the conditions in which we are placed accustom us to certain modes of thinking, which, becoming habitual, render our character fixed and determinate. Hence, also, we see how much character depends upon energy of will, by which the development of our own powers ceases to be the result of accident, and follows in the line marked out for it by reasonable and predetermined choice.

It has been truly remarked, that our associations are frequently the cause of great errors in judgment. When we repeatedly associate two ideas together, we are prone, without examination, to consider the connection by its nature indissoluble. Thus, in youth, having observed many good

men members of our own religious sect, we associate the idea of goodness with that sect, and, going further, consider piety exclusively confined within its limits. Having, again, experienced innumerable benefits arising from a republican government, we not only associate the idea of freedom and intelligence with our own institutions, but suppose that these advantages can be enjoyed under no other conditions of humanity. A multitude of cases of a similar kind will readily suggest themselves. These errors are manifestly to be removed by a larger knowledge of the world, and a more careful and frequent examination of the reasons of our opinions. This subject is treated with great beauty and sound discrimination in Stewart's chapter on Association.

REFERENCES.

Stewart - Vol. i., chap. 5; Locke - Book 11, chap. 33; Reid-Essay 4, chap. 4.

MEMORY is that faculty by which we retain and recall our knowledge of the past. I saw a tree yesterday. I know now that I saw it then and there. I have a conception of a tree, with a certain knowledge that I saw the tree which corresponds to this conception, at some previous time. How I know this I cannot tell, but my consciousness reveals it to me as positive and reliable knowledge.

I have, in the above definition, ascribed but two functions to memory,- the power by which we retain, and that by which we recall, our knowledge of the past. The distinction between these powers is easily observed, for they are not always bestowed in equal degrees. Some men retain their knowledge more perfectly than they recall it. Others

have their knowledge always at command, and make even small acquisitions eminently available.

Stewart divides the first of these functions into susceptibility and retentiveness. A foundation for this distinction evidently exists. Some men acquire with great rapidity, but they very soon forget whatever they have learned. Others acquire with difficulty, but retain tenaciously the knowledge which they have once made their own. Others, again, as I have just remarked, have a remarkable command of their knowledge on all occasions. It must be evident that memory is perfect in the degree in which it is endowed with all these attributes. Men of the highest order of intellect are often preeminently gifted in all these respects. It will be sufficient to mention the names of Leibnitz, Milton, Johnson, Scott, Napoleon, Cuvier, Goethe, Sir W. Hamilton, in order to confirm the truth of this remark. Such men acquire with incredible facility, rarely forget anything which they have learned, and, at will, with remarkable accuracy, concentrate all their knowledge upon the point which they are at the moment discussing.

The knowledge which we obtain by memory may properly be called, in the words of Sir W. Hamilton, representative and mediate, in distinction from presentative and immediate knowledge. When I see a tree, I am conscious of an immediate knowledge, the object being presented directly before my mind. When I remember a tree, there is no external object presented. The tree is represented by the act of the mind itself. I know the tree through the medium of this representation. The immediate object of my thought is this conception of the thing, while, by a power inherent in my intellect, I connect this image with the idea of past reality. That this is true, is evident from the fact that the mental state is precisely the same, whether the object at present is or is not existing. I remember a house

which I saw a year ago. The image of it is distinctly before my mind. I am told that the house has been burned down, and that nothing remains where it stood but a heap of smouldering ruins. This does not at all affect the image I have in my mind. The only difference in the two cases is, that before I contemplated it as the representation of something existing, now only of something that did exist. Concerning this faculty, as thus defined, several important facts may be observed.

1. I have before remarked, when treating of the perceptive faculties, that our knowledge derived from this source is of two kinds, simple and complex. Simple knowledge is merely a state of mind, a consciousness of a peculiar impression made upon our sensitive organism, without giving us an intimation of anything external; a mere affection of the me, without any relation to the not me. The other kind of knowledge is complex; that is, together with this affection of the me, there is communicated to us a knowledge of the not me, in some of its modifications. In this latter case, we form a notion of the not me as something numerically distinct from the me.

Whenever our knowledge is of the latter character, our recollection of it is always attended by a conception, and this conception forms a part of the act of memory. Sir W. Hamilton, on this account, happily describes memory as a recollective imagination. We have before us an image of the object remembered, and are conscious that it represents some past existence. Thus, when we remember a visible object, we form for ourselves a distinct conception of its appearance. We never consider an act of memory complete until this conception is created. Thus, if I am asked whether I remember a village which I passed through some years since, if I can recall the conception of the locality, I answer in the affirmative; if I only know that