That the word _impression_ is not so free, as Dr Reid supposes, from that hypothetical meaning which he wished to avoid, I have already remarked. But the reason assigned by him for his preference of it, is unquestionably a just one; since a phrase which expresses the least possible knowledge, must be allowed to be the best suited to human ignorance,--that ignorance, which, not in the philosophy of intellect only, but in whatever track of science we may proceed, and whatever truths we may proudly discover in our way, still meets us at the end of every path, as if to mock at once our weakness and our pride,--and which seems to us to be every where, because it is, wherever we are ourselves. The splendour of nature, as it exists in itself, is, if I may speak figuratively, like sunshine on a boundless plain, on the flowers and herbage of which, though there be innumerable varieties of colour, there is brilliancy in all. But the misfortune is, that, as soon as we have approached near enough to distinguish the diversity of tints, their brilliancy is so obscured by our very approach to them, that their nice diversities are no longer distinguishable; as if man could not move along, without throwing his own shadow on every thing before him. When I say, that we are ignorant of the nature of that change, which is propagated along the nerve to the brain, I speak in reference to an opinion that is universal. But, though it may be _improbable_, it is certainly far from _impossible_, that there is really no such progressive communication, as this which is supposed. The brain and nerves, though, from the difference of names, you might be led, perhaps, to consider them as distinct, I have already said, are not separate organs, but are in continuity with each other, at least as much as various parts of the brain itself, which are comprehended under that single term, can be said to be continuous. When taken together, they form what is truly one complicated sensorial organ,--the organ of all our sensations, according to the different states in which the organ exists, or the different parts of it which are chiefly affected. In _hearing_, for example, a certain state of that part of the sensorial organ, which constitutes the auditory nerves,--in vision, a certain state of that part of it, which constitutes the optic nerves, is necessary to sensation,--and, in both cases, according to the universal supposition on the subject, all or part of the brain likewise must exist in a certain state, of which we know nothing more, than that it is followed, in the one case, by the sensation of sound, in the other case by that of sight. The connexion of the mind with the bodily frame,--which must be equally inexplicable on every supposition that can be formed,--is not supposed, by any philosopher, to depend on the state of a single physical point of the brain alone; and, if it extend to more than _one_ such point, there is nothing,--in the nature of