n THE CONTENTS OF THE MIND. 81 



ond flash of red light to follow the first. If there 

 were no memory of the latter, the state of the mind 

 on the second occasion would simply be a repeti- 

 tion of that which occurred before. There would 

 be merely another impression. 



But suppose memory to exist, and that an idea 

 of the first impression is generated; then, if the 

 supposed sentient being were like ourselves, there 

 might arise in his mind two altogether new impres- 

 sions. The one is the feeling of the succession 

 of the two impressions, the other is the feeling of 

 their similarity. 



Yet a third case is conceivable. Suppose 

 two flashes of red light to occur together, then a 

 third feeling might arise which is neither succes- 

 sion nor similarity, but that which we call co- 

 existence. 



These feelings, or their contraries, are the 

 foundation of everything that we call a relation. 

 They are no more capable of being described than 

 sensations are; and, as it appears to me, they 

 are as little susceptible of analysis into simpler 

 elements. Like simple tastes and smells, or 

 feelings of pleasure and pain, they are ultimate 

 irresolvable facts of conscious experience; and, if 

 we follow the principle of Hume's nomenclature, 

 they must be called impressions of relation. But 

 it must be remembered, that they differ from the 

 other impressions, in requiring the pre-existence 

 of at least two of the latter. Though devoid of 



