in the closet, or perhaps have been adopted implicitly on the authority of others. The promptitude, therefore, with which a man decides in ordinary discourse, is not a certain test of the quickness of his apprehension; as it may perhaps arise from those uncommon efforts to furnish the memory with acquired knowledge, by which men of slow parts endeavour to compensate for their want of invention; while, on the other hand, it is possible that a consciousness of originality may give rise to a manner apparently embarrassed, by leading the person who feels it, to trust too much to extempore exertions.†

In general, I believe it may be laid down as a rule, that those who carry about with them a great degree of acquired information, which they have always at command, or who have rendered their own discoveries so familiar to them, as always to be in a condition to explain them, without recollection, are very seldom possessed of much invention, or even of much quickness of apprehension. A man of original genius, who is fond of exercising his reasoning powers anew on every point as it occurs to him, and who cannot submit to rehearse the ideas of others, or to repeat by rote the conclusions which he has deduced from previous reflection often appears, to superficial observers, to fall below the level of ordinary understandings; while another, destitute both of quickness and invention, is admired for that promptitude in his decisions, which arises from the inferiority of his intellectual abilities.

It must indeed be acknowledged in favour of the last description of men, that in ordinary conversation they form the most agreeable, and perhaps the most instructive companions. How inexhaustible soever the invention of an individual may be, the variety of his own peculiar ideas can bear no proportion to the whole mass of useful and curious information of which the world is already possessed. The conversation, accordingly, of men of genius, is sometimes extremely limited; and is interesting to the few alone, who know the value, and who can distinguish the marks of originality. In consequence too of that partiality which every man feels for his own speculations, they are more in danger of being dogmatical and disputatious, than those who have no system which they are interested to defend.

The same observations may be applied to authors. A book which contains the discoveries of one individual only, may be admired by a few, who are intimately acquainted with the history of the science to which it relates, but it has little chance for popularity with the multitude. An author who possesses industry sufficient to collect the ideas of others, and judgment sufficient to arrange them skilfully, is the most

* Memoria facit prompti ingenii famam, ut illa quae dicimus, non domo attulisse, sed ibi protinus sumpsisse videamur. QUINCT. Inst. Orat. lib. xi. cap. 2.

In the foregoing observations it is not meant to be implied, that originality of genius is incompatible with a ready recollection of acquired knowledge; but only that it has a tendency unfavourable to it, and that more time and practice will commonly be necessary to familiarize the mind of a man of invention to the ideas of others, or even to the conclusions of his own understanding, than are requisite in ordinary cases. Habits of literary conversation, and, still more, habits of extempore discussion in a popular assembly, are peculiarly useful in giving us a ready and practical command of our knowledge. There is much good sense in the following aphorism of Bacon: "Reading makes a full man, writing a correct man, and speaking a ready man." See a commentary on this aphorism in one of the Numbers of the Adventurer.

likely person to acquire a high degree of literary fame: and although, in the opinion of enlightened judges, invention forms the chief characteristic of genius, yet it commonly happens that the objects of public admiration are men who are much less distinguished by this quality, than by extensive learning and cultivated taste. Perhaps too, for the multitude, the latter class of authors is the most useful; as their writings contain the more solid discoveries which others have brought to light, separated from those errors, with which truth is often blended in the first formation of a system.

CHAPTER SEVENTH.

OF IMAGINATION.

SECTION I.

Analysis of Imagination.

IN attempting to draw the line between Conception and Imagination, I have already observed, that the province of the former is to present us with an exact transcript of what we have fermerly felt and perceived; that of the latter, to make a selection of qualities and of circumstances from a variety of different objects, and by combining and disposing these, to form a new creation of its own.

According to the definitions adopted, in general, by modern philosophers, the province of imagination would appear to be limited to objects of sight. "It is the sense of sight," (says Mr. Addison,) "which fur"nishes the Imagination with its ideas; so that by the pleasures of Imagination, I here mean such as arise from visible objects, either when "we have them actually in view, or when we call up their ideas into "our minds, by paintings, statues, descriptions, or any the like occa"sions. We cannot, indeed, have a single image in the fancy, that did "not make its first entrance through the sight." Agreeably to the same view of the subject, Dr. Reid observes, that "Imagination properly "signifies a lively conception of objects of sight; the former power be"ing distinguished from the latter, as a part from the whole

That this limitation of the province of imagination to one particular class of our perceptions is altogether arbitrary, seems to me to be evident; for, although the greater part of the materials which imagination combines be supplied by this sense, it is nevertheless indisputable, that our other perceptive faculties also contribute occasionally their share. How many pleasing images have been borrowed from the fragrance of the fields and the melody of the groves; not to mention that sister art, whose magical influence over the human frame, it has been, in all ages, the highest boast of poetry to celebrate! In the following passage, even the more gross sensations of Taste form the subject of an ideal repast, on which it is impossible not to dwell with some complacency; particularly after a perusal of the preceding lines, in which the Poet describes "the wonders of the Torrid Zone."

Bear me, Pomona! to thy citron groves;
To where the lemon and the piercing lime,

With the deep orange, glowing through the green,
Their lighter glories blend. Lay me reclin'd
Beneath the spreading tamarind that shakes,
Fann'd by the breeze, its fever-cooling fruit :
Or, stretch'd amid these orchards of the sun,
O let me drain the cocoa's milky bowl,
More bounteous far than all the frantic juice
Which Bacchus pours! Nor, on its slender twigs
Low bending, be the full pomegranate scorn'd;
Nor, creeping through the woods, the gelid race
Of berries. Oft in humble station dwells
Unboastful worth, above fastidious pomp.
Witness, thou best Anana, thou the pride
Of vegetable life, beyond whate'er

The Poets imag'd in the golden age:
Quick let me strip thee of thy spiny coat,

Spread thy ambrosial stores, and feast with Jove !*

What an assemblage of other conceptions, different from all those hitherto mentioned, has the genius of Virgil combined in one distich!

Hic gelidi fontes, hic mollia prata, Lycori,
Hic nemus hic ipso tecum consumerer aevo.

These observations are sufficient to show, how inadequate a notion of the province of Imagination (considered even in its reference to the sensible world) is conveyed by the definitions of Mr. Addison and of Dr. Reid. But the sensible world, it must be remembered, is not the only field where Imagination exerts her powers. All the objects of human knowledge supply materials to her forming hand; diversifying infinitely the works she produces, while the mode of her operation remains essentially uniform. As it is the same power of Reasoning which ena. bles us to carry on our investigations with respect to individual objects, and with respect to classes or genera; so it was by the same process of Analysis and Combination, that the genius of Milton produced the Garden of Eden; that of Harrington, the Commonwealth of Oceana; and that of Shakspeare, the characters of Hamlet and Falstaff. The difference between the several efforts of invention, consists only in the manner in which the original materials were acquired; as far as the power of Imagination is concerned, the processes are perfectly analogous.

The attempts of Mr. Addison and of Dr. Reid to limit the province of imagination to objects of sight, have plainly proceeded from a very important fact, which it may be worth while to illustrate more particularly-That the mind has a greater facility, and, of consequence, a greater delight in recalling the perceptions of this sense than those of any of the others; while at the same time, the variety of qualities perceived by it is incomparably greater. It is this sense, accordingly, which supplies the painter and the statuary with all the subjects on which their genius is exercised; and which furnishes to the descriptive poet the largest and the most valuable portion of the materials which he combines. In that absurd species of prose composition, too, which borders on poetry, nothing is more remarkable than the predominance of phrases that recall to the memory glaring colours, and those splendid

*Thomson's Summer.

appearances of nature, which make a strong impression on the eye. It has been mentioned by different writers, as a characteristical circumstance in the Oriental or Asiatic style, that the greater part of the metaphors are taken from the celestial luminaries. "The Works of the Per"sians," (says M. de Voltaire,) "are like the titles of their kings, in "which we are perpetually dazzled with the sun and the moon." Sir William Jones, in a short Essay on the Poetry of Eastern Nations, has endeavoured to shew, that this is not owing to the bad taste of the Asiatics, but to the old language and popular religion of their country. But the truth is, that the very same criticism will be found to apply to the juvenile productions of every author possessed of a warm imagination; and to the compositions of every people, among whom a cultivated and philosophical taste has not established a sufficiently marked distinction between the appropriate styles of poetry and of prose. The account given by the Abbé Girard of the meaning of the word Phébus, as employed by the French critics, confirms strongly this observation. "Le Phébus a un brillant qui signifie, ou semble signifier quelque chose: "le soleil y entre d'ordinaire; et c'est peut-etre ce qui, en notre langue, c a donné lieu au nom de Phébus."*

Agreeably to these principles, Gray, in describing the infantine reveries of poetical genius, has fixed, with exquisite judgment, on this class of our conceptions:

Yet oft before his infant eye would run

Such Forms as glitter in the Muse's ray
With Orient hues.-

From these remarks it may be easily understood, why the word Imagination, in its most ordinary acceptation, should be applied to cases where our conceptions are derived from the sense of sight; although the province of this power be, in fact, as unlimited as the sphere of human enjoyment and of human thought. Hence, the origin of those partial definitions which I have been attempting to correct; and hence too, the origin of the word Imagination; the etymology of which implies manifestly a reference to visible objects.

To all the various modes in which imagination may display itself, the greater part of the remarks contained in this chapter will be found to apply, under proper limitations; but, in order to render the subject more obvious to the reader's examination, I shall in the farther prosecution of it, endeavour to convey my ideas, rather by means of particular examples, than in the form of general principles; leaving it to his own judgment to determine, with what modifications the conclusions to which we are led, may be extended to other combinations of circumstances.

Among the innumerable phenomena which this part of our constitution presents to our examination, the combinations which the mind forms out of materials supplied by the power of conception recommend themselves strongly, both by their simplicity, and by the interesting nature of the discussions to which they lead. I shall avail myself, therefore, as much as possible, in the following inquiries, of whatever illustrations I am able to borrow from the arts of Poetry and of Painting; the operations of imagination in these arts furnishing the most intelligi

*Synonymes François.

ble and pleasing exemplifications of the intellectual processes, by which, in those analogous but less palpable instances that fall under the consideration of the Moralist, the mind deviates from the models presented to it by experience, and forms to itself new and untried objects of pursuit. It is in consequence of such processes, (which, how little soever they may be attended to, are habitually passing in the thoughts of all men,) that human affairs exhibit so busy and so various a scene; tending, in one case, to improvement, and, in another, to decline; according as our notions of excellence and of happiness are just or erroneous.

It was observed in a former part of this work, that imagination is a complex power.* It includes Conception or simple Apprehension, which enables us to form a notion of those former objects of perception or of knowledge, out of which we are to make a selection; Abstraction, which separates the selected materials from the qualities and circumstances which are connected with them in nature; and Judgment or Taste, which selects the materials, and directs their combination. To these powers, we may add that particular habit of association to which I formerly gave the name of fancy; as it is this which presents to our choice, all the different materials which are subservient to the efforts of imagination, and which may therefore be considered as forming the ground-work of poetical genius.

To illustrate these observations, let us consider the steps by which Milton must have proceeded in creating his imaginary garden of Eden. When he first proposed to himself that subject of description, it is reasonable to suppose that a variety of the most striking scenes which he had seen crouded into his mind. The association of ideas suggested them, and the power of conception placed each of them before him with all its beauties and imperfections. In every natural scene, if we destine it for any particular purpose, there are defects and redundancies, which art may sometimes, but cannot always, correct. But the power of imagination is unlimited. She can create and annihilate; and dispose, at pleasure, her woods, her rocks, and her rivers. Milton, accordingly, would not copy his Eden from any one scene, but would select from each the features which were most eminently beautiful. The power of abstraction enabled him to make the separation, and taste directed him in the selection. Thus he was furnished with his materials; by a skilful combination of which, he has created a landscape, more perfect probably in all its parts, than was ever realized in nature; and certainly very different from any thing which this country exhibited, at the period when he wrote. It is a curious remark of Mr. Walpole, that Milton's Eden is free from the defects of the old English garden, and is imagined on the same principles which it was reserved for the present age to carry into execution.

From what has been said, it is sufficiently evident, that Imagination is not a simple power of the mind, like Attention, Conception, or Abstraction; but that it is formed by a combination of various faculties. It is farther evident, that it must appear under very different forms, in the case of different individuals; as some of its component parts are liable to be greatly influenced by habit and other accidental circumstances. The variety, for example, of the materials out of which the combinations of the Poet or the Painter are formed, will depend much on

* See Page 70.