rain, and at other times, by the waters flowing from the Ocean; that some animals were innocent, others destructive. Thus far our primitive man, or philosopher, would reason correctly and become, in the language of Lord Bacon, naturæ minister et interpres. But here it is to be remarked, that at the same time, this mode of procedure would conduct him safely in the path of knowledge; yet he would be very liable, in this track, to be betrayed into endless errors. His strongest tendency in this particular, is to rush too precipitately from an individual instance to a general conclusion; and this is what the great Verulam denominates the anticipation of nature. For example, suppose our primitive man to see one of his children bitten by a rattle-snake, and immediately swell and expire; he would draw the inference, that the bite of all snakes is poisonous. Here we see, he would rush to a false conclusion, for out of two hundred and eighteen species of serpents, thirty two only are said to be poisonous. This is truly an instance of the anticipation of nature. Thus we see the rise of that inductive system of philosophising, which, although so simple in its commencement, and so obvious a mode of procedure to the understanding, was unknown to the school for so many ages, and by which the modern cultivators of science have accomplished such wonders. Taking its rise along with all our experience in the evidence of the senses, it enables us gradually to widen and expand our knowledge, until after compassing sea and land, we extend our researches beyond the limits of the earth, and take in the whole solar system, and even scan the heavens. It is at once the instrument by which we attain the most familiar lessons of daily experience, and the sublimest discoveries of philosophy.

From what has been observed in reference to this point, the unsoundness of that philosophy will be apparent, which supposes an inductive principle to be one of the constituent

powers in the constitution of the human mind; when it is perfectly evident, that there is no necessity for resorting to the supposition of such an original instinct, in order to solve the phenomena. All the conclusions at which we arrive, upon the ground of the inductive philosophy, are nothing more than the natural results of the application of reason and good sense, to an examination of the structure and the laws of nature. Experience furnishes us with facts, and reason deduces inferences from them. That philosophy of human nature is as much to be regarded as supposititious and false, which in order to save itself the labour of investigation, would ascribe too many original and elementary principles to the constitution of the human mind, as that which in its solicitude to simplify, would reduce them to too small a number. As, in the latter case, in order to give simplicity, consistency, and finish to any theories we form, we might be led, instead of following the guidance of nature, to put her to the torture in order to exort a favourable answer; so also in the former case we should be in equal danger, in order to save ourselves from the fatigue of frequent and attentive consultation of her, of allotting to her workmanship, materials disavowed by her, and interpolating new laws into her sealed and sacred volume. This mode of proceeding would put an effectual check to science in its attempts to remount to first truths. There is no necessity for admitting the existence of any original inductive principle in our mental constitution, to solve any of the phenomena of the human mind.

I shall first state the theory of Dr. Reid upon this subject, and then attempt its refutation. "This process of the human mind, is so familiar, that we never think of inquiring into the principles upon which it is founded. We are apt to conceive it as a self evident truth, that what is to come must be similar to what is past. Thus, if a certain degree of cold freezes water to-day, and has been known to do so in all time past,

we have no doubt but the same degree of cold will freeze water to-morrow, or a year hence. That this is a truth which all men believe as soon as they understand it, I readily admit; but the question is, whence does this evidence arise?" Again. "Experience informs us that things have been conjoined in time past; but no man ever had any experience of what is future; and this is the very question to be resolved, how we come to believe that the future will be like the past?" Accordingly the following is the Dr's. solution of the question. "The wise author of nature hath implanted in human minds an original principle, by which we believe and expect the continuance of the course of nature, and the continuance of those connections which we have observed in time past." Again he says. "Upon this principle of our constitution, not only acquired perception, but all inductive reasoning, and all our reasoning from analogy, is grounded; and therefore, for want of another name, we shall beg leave to call it the inductive principle. It is from the force of this principle, that we immediately assent to that axiom, upon which all our knowledge of nature is built, that effects of the same kind must have the same cause. A child has found the prick of a pin conjoined with pain: hence he believes and knows, that these things are naturally connected, he knows that the one will always follow the other. If any man will call this only an association of ideas, I dispute not about words, but I think he speaks very improperly. For if we express it in plain English, it is a prescience, that things which he hath found conjoined in time past, will be conjoined in time to come. And this prescience is not the effect of reasoning, but of an original principle of human nature, which I have called the inductive principle. It leads often into mistakes but is of infinite advantage upon the whole. By it, the child once burnt, shuns the fire."

It forms no small objection to this theory, that it supposes a component part, and a very important part too, of our constitution, which had hitherto escaped the penetration of philosophers. In regard to many of the appearances exhibited by the human mind, and the solutions attempted to be given of them, philosophy may be supposed to have long wandered in the dark, from the extreme subtilty of its nature, and the rapidity with which its operations are performed, but it is hardly to be imagined, that their ignorance should have extended to the great principles of its organization. To me it appears no less absurd and unphilosophical, to speak of an original inductive principle of the mind, than it would be to talk of an analytical and synthetical principle; induction, when properly understood, being the instrument by which the mind attains to a knowledge of nature and its laws, and the others, the instruments by which it attains not only to experimental truths or maxims of science, but also to those which are usually denominated eternal and immutable truths. They all three, induction, synthesis, and analysis, are the vehicles employed by human reason to convey her on the road to truth and certainty. If all the appearances of the human mind can be accounted for from the operation of reason, and those other powers and instincts that have been allowed to belong to it, there is no necessity for admitting the existence of this new inductive principle, not recognised by nature as her offspring, or bearing her sacred image and superscription. An instinctive principle of induction, or an instinctive principle by which we draw inferences from facts, which implies, in its very terms, the exercise of reason, is as palpable an absurdity as can well be imagined. And what are the phenomena presented to our inspection, to account for which this supposed inductive principle of our nature must be resorted to? The belief which we have, that the future will be like the past; our confidence in the continuance of the order of nature, from

which results our assent to that axiom upon which all our knowledge of nature is built, that effects of the same kind must have the same cause. Let us put this matter to the test, and see if it will bear a trial of reason and argument. One would imagine that with the slightest pretensions to philosophy, we could hardly mistake in a matter so extremely plain, Suppose the philosopher or primitive man, of whom we have before spoken, to see for the first time water converted by the coldness of winter into a solid mass. According to Dr. Reid, by means of this inductive principle, he has an immediate prescience, to use his own phrase, that the two things, the coldness of the season, and the conversion of water into ice, which were then conjoined, would also be conjoined in time to come. Will any one believe this? Would not this be to give to mankind a most wonderful perspicacity to enable them, in the very outset of experience, to accomplish without labour what is the highest attainment of science, from a consideration of the present to be able to predict the future? It is evident that all he could possibly know in this case, would be, that cold had a tendency to harden water, but as to the future, it would not, it could not enter into his thoughts. There is no power with which man is endowed, which would enable him antecedently to experience, to look one moment into futurity, and determine what would be the state of things in the world, at a period subsequent to that in which he lived at the time. How, then, does he learn to repose confidence in the permanence of the order of nature? Most undoubtedly from frequent experience of that order. Upon Dr. Reid's principles, Adam, when he saw the sun rise and set on the first day of his life, would have a prescience that it would rise and set in future. If this were true, Adam must have possessed a sagacity and penetration, much surpassing those of the most enlightened philosopher at the present day; for it is impossible for us to decide upon any ground of certainty and demonstration, that the sun will rise and set to-morrow. All e q