CHAPTER THIRD.

OF CONCEPTION.

By Conception, I mean that power of the mind, which enables it to form a notion of an absent object of perception, or of a sensation which it has formerly felt. I do not contend that this is exclusively the proper meaning of the word, but I think that the faculty which I have now defined, deserves to be distinguished by an appropriated name.

Conception is often confounded with other powers. When a painter makes a picture of a friend, who is absent or dead, he is commonly said to paint from memory and the expression is sufficiently correct for common conversation. But in an analysis of the mind, there is ground for a distinction. The power of conception enables him to make the features of his friend an object of thought, so as to copy the resemblance; the power of memory recognises these features as a former object of perception. Every act of memory includes an idea of the past; conception implies no idea of time whatever.*

According to this view of the matter, the word conception corresponds to what was called by the schoolmen simple apprehension; with this difference only, that they included, under this name, our apprehension of general propositions, whereas I should wish to limit the application of the word conception to our sensations, and the objects of our perceptions. Dr. Reid, in his Inquiry, substitutes the word conception instead of the simple apprehension of the schools, and employs it in the same extensive signification. I think it may contribute to make our ideas more distinct, to restrict its meaning :

Shakspeare calls this power" the mind's eye."

"Hamlet.-My father! Methinks I see my father.
"Horatio.-Where, my Lord?

“ Hamlet.—In my mind's eye, Horatio."

Act i. Scene 4.

and for such a restriction, we have the authority of philosophers in a case perfectly analogous.-In ordinary language, we apply the same word perception, to the knowledge which we have by our senses of external objects, and to our knowledge of speculative truth: and yet an author would be justly censured, who should treat of these two operations of the mind under the same article of perception. I apprehend there is as wide a difference between the conception of a truth, and the conception of an absent object of sense, as between the perception of a tree, and the perception of a mathematical theorem.-I have therefore taken the liberty to distinguish also the two former operations of the mind and under the article of conception shall confine myself to that faculty, whose province it is to enable us to form a notion of our past sensations, or of the objects of sense that we have formerly perceived.

Conception is frequently used as synonymous with imagination. Dr. Reid says, that "imagination, in its proper sense, signifies a lively conception of objects of sight." "This is a talent," he remarks," of importance to poets and orators; and deserves a proper name, on account of its connexion with their arts." He adds, that “imagination is distinguished from conception, as a part from a whole."

I shall not inquire, at present, into the proper English meaning of the words conception and imagination. In a study such as this, so far removed from the common purposes of speech, some latitude may perhaps be allowed in the use of words; provided only we define accurately those we employ, and adhere to our own definitions.

The business of conception, according to the account I have given of it, is to present us with an exact transcript of what we have felt or perceived. But we have, moreover, a power of modifying our conceptions, by combining the parts of different ones together, so as to form new wholes of our own creation. I shall employ the word imagination to express this power; and, I apprehend, that this is the proper sense of the word; if imagination be the power which gives birth to the pro

ductions of the poet and the painter. This is not a simple faculty of the mind. It presupposes abstraction, to separate from each other qualities and circumstances which have been perceived in conjunction, and also judgment and taste to direct us in forming the combinations. If they are made wholly at random, they are proofs of insanity.*

The first remarkable fact which strikes us with respect to conception is, that we can conceive the objects of some senses much more easily than those of others. Thus we can conceive an absent visible object, such as a building that is familiar to us, much more easily than a particular sound, a particular taste, or a particular pain, which we have formerly felt. It is probable, however, that this power might be improved in the case of some of our senses. Few people, I believe, are able to form a very distinct conception of sounds, and yet it is certain, that, by practice, a person may acquire a power of amusing himself with reading written music. And in the case of poetical numbers, it is universally known that a reader may enjoy the harmony of the verse, without articulating the words, even in a whisper. In such cases, I take for granted, that our pleasure arises from a very strong conception of the sounds which we have been accustomed to associate with particular written characters.

The peculiarity in the case of visible objects, seems to arise from this; that when we think of a sound or of a taste, the object of our conception is one single detached sensation; whereas every visible object is complex; and the conception which we form of it as a

* In common discourse, we often use the phrase of thinking upon an object, to express what I here call, the conception of it.-In the following passage, Shakspeare uses the former of these phrases, and the words imagination and apprehension as synonymous with each other.

"Who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast?

Or wallow naked in December's snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Oh no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse."

K. RICHARD II. Act. i. Scene 6.

whole, is aided by the association of ideas. To perceive the force of this observation, it is necessary to recollect what was formerly said on the subject of attention. As we cannot at one instant attend to every point of the picture of an object on the retina, so, I apprehend, we cannot at one instant form a conception of the whole of any visible object; but that our conception of the object as a whole, is the result of many conceptions. The association of ideas connects the different parts together, and presents them to the mind in their proper arrangement; and the various relations which these parts bear to one another in point of situation, contribute greatly to strengthen the associations. It is some confirmation of this theory, that it is more easy to remember a succession of sounds, than any particular sound which we have heard detached and unconnected.

The power of conceiving visible objects, like all other powers that depend on the association of ideas, may be wonderfully improved by habit. A person accustomed to drawing, retains a much more perfect notion. of a building or of a landscape which he has seen, than one who has never practised that art. A portrait-painter traces the form of the human body from memory, with as little exertion of attention, as he employs in writing the letters which compose his name.

In the power of conceiving colors, too, there are striking differences among individuals: and, indeed, I am inclined to suspect, that, in the greater number of instances, the supposed defects of sight in this respect, ought to be ascribed rather to a defect in the power of conception. One thing is certain, that we often see men who are perfectly sensible of the difference between two colors when they are presented to them, who cannot give names to these colors with confidence, when they see them apart, and are perhaps apt to confound the one with the other. Such men, it should seem, feel the sensation of color like other men, when the object is present, but are incapable (probably in consequence of some early habit of inattention) to conceive the sensation distinctly when the object is removed. Without this power of conception it is evidently impossible for

them, however lively their sensations may be, to give a name to any color; for the application of the name supposes not only a capacity of receiving the sensation, but a power of comparing it with one formerly felt. At the same time I would not be understood by these observations to deny, that there are cases, in which there is a natural defect of the organ in the perception of color. In some cases, perhaps, the sensation is not felt at all, and in others, the faintness of the sensation may be one cause of those habits of inattention, from which the incapacity of conception has arisen.

A talent for lively discription, at least in the case of sensible objects, depends chiefly on the degree in which the describer possesses the power of conception. We may remark, even in common conversation, a striking difference among individuals in this respect. One man, in attempting to convey a notion of any object he has seen, seems to place it before him, and to paint from actual perception; another, although not deficient in a ready elocution, finds himself, in such a situation, confused and embarrassed among a number of particulars imperfectly apprehended, which crowd into his mind without any just order and connexion. Nor is it merely to the accuracy of our descriptions that this power is subservient: it contributes more than any thing else to render them striking and expressive to others, by guiding us to a selection of such circumstances as are most prominent and characteristical; insomuch that I think it may reasonably be doubted, if a person would not write a happier description of an object from the conception than from the actual perception of it. It has been often remarked, that the perfection of description does not consist in a minute specification of circumstances, but in a judicious selection of them, and that the best rule for making the selection is, to attend to the particulars that make the deepest impression on our own minds. When the object is actually before us, it is extremely difficult to compare the impressions which different circumstances produce, and the very thought of writing a description would prevent the impressions which would otherwise take place. When we afterwards conceive