other parts. Association connects the parts together; it presents them to the mind in their proper arrangement, and helps to sustain them there. We are not equally aided by the laws of association in forming our conceptions of the objects of the other senses. When we think of some sound, taste, touch, or smell, the object of our conception is either a single detached sensation or a series of sensations. In every such detached sensation of sound, taste, touch, or smell, whether we consider it at its first origin, or when it is subsequently recalled, there is not necessarily that fixed and intimate association of the parts which we suppose to exist in every visual perception, and which must exist also in every conception of objects of sight which subsequently takes place. Accordingly, our conceptions of the latter objects arise more readily, and are more distinct, than of the others.-There is a greater readiness and distinctness also, when there is a series of sensations and perceptions of sight, for the subsequent visual conceptions are aided by associations both in time and place; but the recurrence of other sensations and perceptions is aided only by associations in time. § 61. Of the influence of habit on our conceptions. It is another circumstance worthy of notice in regard to conceptions, that the power of forming them depends in some measure on HABIT.-A few instances will help to illustrate the statement, that what is termed Habit may extend to the susceptibility of conceptions; and the first to be given will be of conceptions of sound. Our conceptions of sound are not, in general, remarkably distinct, as was intimated in the last section. It is nevertheless true, that a person may by practice acquire the power of amusing himself with merely reading written music. Having frequently associated the sounds with the notes, he has at last such a strong conception of the sounds, that he experiences, by merely reading the notes, a very sensible pleasure. It is for the same reason, viz., because our conceptions are strengthened by repetition or practice, that readers may enjoy the harmony of poetical numbers without at all articulating the words. In both cases they truly hear nothing; there is no actual sensation of sound; and yet there is a virtual enunciation and melody in the mind. It seems to be on this principle we are enabled to explain the fact, that Beethoven composed some of his most valued musical pieces after he had become entirely deaf; originating harmonic combinations so profound and exquisite as to require the nicest ear as a test, at the very time he was unable to hear anything himself. 62. Influence of habit on conceptions of sight. That our power of forming conceptions is strengthened by habit, is capable of being further illustrated from the sight. A person who has been accustomed to drawing, retains a much more perfect notion of a building, landscape, or other visible object, than one who has not. A portrait painter, or any person who has been in the practice of drawing such sketches, can trace the outlines of the human form with very great ease; it requires hardly more effort from them than to write their names. -This point may also be illustrated by the difference which we sometimes notice in people in their conceptions of colours. Some are fully sensible of the difference between two colours when they are presented to them, but cannot with confidence give names to these colours when they see them apart, and may even confound the one with the other. Their original sensations and perceptions are supposed to be equally distinct with those of other persons; but their subsequent conception of the colours is far from being so. This defect arises partly, at least, from want of practice; that is to say, from the not having formed a habit. The persons who exhibit this weakness of conception have not been compelled, by their situation nor by mere inclination, to distinguish and to name colours so much as is common, 63. Of the subserviency of our conceptions to description. It is highly favourable to the talent for lively description, when a person's conceptions are readily suggested and are distinct. Even such a one's common conversation differs from that of those whose conceptions arise more slowly and are more faint. One man, whether in conversation or in written description, seems to place the object which he wishes to describe directly before us; it is represented distinctly and to the life. Another, although not wanting in a command of language, is confused and embarrassed amid a multitude of particulars, which, in consequence of the feebleness of his conceptions, he finds himself but half acquainted with; and he therefore gives us but a very imperfect and confused notion of the thing which he desires to make known. It has been by some supposed, that a person might give a happier description of an edifice, of a landscape, or other object, from the conception than from the actual perception of it. The perfection of a description does not always consist in a minute specification of circumstances; in general, the description is better when there is a judicious selection of them. The best rule for making the selection is to attend to the particulars that make the deepest impression on our own minds, or, what is the same thing, that most readily and distinctly take a place in our conceptions.-When the object is actually before us, it is extremely difficult to compare the impressions which different circumstances produce. When we afterward conceive of the object, we possess merely the outline of it; but it is an outline made up of the most striking circumstances. The circumstances, it is true, will not impress all persons alike, but will somewhat vary with the degree of their taste. But when, with a correct and delicate taste, any one combines lively conceptions, and gives a description from those conceptions, he can hardly fail to succeed in it. And, accordingly, we find here one great element of poetic power. It is the ability of forming vivid conceptions which bodies forth "The forms of things unknown; the poet's pen 64. Of conceptions attended with a momentary belief. Our conceptions are sometimes attended with belief; when they are very lively, we are apt to ascribe to them a real outward existence, or believe in them. We do not undertake to assert that the belief is permanent; but a number of facts strongly lead to the conclusion that it has a momentary existence. (1.) A painter, in drawing the features and bodily form of an absent friend, may have so strong a conception, so vivid a mental picture, as to believe for a moment that his friend is before him. After carefully recalling his thoughts at such times, and reflecting upon them, almost every painter is ready to say that he has experienced some illusions of this kind. "We read," says Dr. Conolly, "that, when Sir Joshua Reynolds, after being many hours occupied in painting, walked out into the street, the lamp-posts seemed to him to be trees, and the men and women moving shrubs." It is true, the illusion is in these cases very short, because the intensity of conception, which is the foundation of it, can never be kept up long when the mind is in a sound state. Such intense conceptions are unnatural. And, further, all the surrounding objects of perception, which no one can altogether disregard for any length of time, tend to check the illusion and terminate it. (2.) When a blow is aimed at any one, although in sport, and he fully knows it to be so, he forms so vivid a conception of what might possibly be the effect, that his belief is for a moment controlled, and he unavoidably shrinks back from it. This is particularly the case if the blow approaches the eye. Who can help winking at such times? It is a proof of our belief being controlled under such circumstances, that we can move our own hands rapidly in the neighbourhood of the eye, either perpendicularly or horizontally; and, at the same time, easily keep our eyelids from motion. But when the motion is made by another, the conception becomes more vivid, and a belief of danger inevitably arises.-Again, place a person on the battlements of a high tower; his reason tells him he is in no danger; he knows he is in none. But, after all, he is unable to look down from the battlements without fear; his conceptions are so exceedingly vivid as to induce a momentary belief of danger in opposition to all his reasonings. (3.) When we are in pain from having struck our foot against a stone, or when pain is suddenly caused in us by any other inanimate object, we are apt to vent a moment ary rage upon it. That is to say, our belief is so affected for an instant, that we ascribe to it an accountable existence, and would punish it accordingly. This is observed particularly in children and in Savages. It is on the principle of our vivid conceptions being attended with belief, that poets so often ascribe life, and agency, and intention to the rain and winds, to storms, and thunder and lightning. How natural are the expressions of King Lear, overwhelmed with the ingratitude of his daughters, and standing with his old head bared to the pelting tempest! "Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters; I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdoms, called you children." (4.) There are persons who are entirely convinced of the folly of the popular belief of ghosts and other nightly apparitions, but who cannot be persuaded to sleep in a room alone, nor go alone into a room in the dark. Whenever they happen out at night, they are constantly looking on every side; their quickened perceptions behold images, which never had any existence except in their own minds, and they are the subjects of continual disquiet and even terror." It was my misfortune," says Dr. Priestly, "to have the idea of darkness, and the ideas of invisible malignant spirits and apparitions very closely connected in my infancy; and to this day, notwithstanding I believe nothing of those invisible powers, and, consequently, of their connexion with darkness, or anything else, I cannot be perfectly easy in every kind of situation in the dark, though I am sensible I gain ground upon this prejudice continually." In all such cases we see the influence of the prejudices of the nursery. Persons who are thus afflicted were taught in early childhood to form conceptions of ghosts, visible hobgoblins, and unearthly spirits; and the habit still continues. It is true, when they listen to their reasonings and philosophy, they may well say they do not believe in such things. But the effect of their philosophy is merely to check their belief; not in ten cases in a thousand is the belief entirely overcome. Every little while, in all solitary places, and especially in the dark, it |