SECTION II.

OF THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS.


11. Every one will readily allow, that there is a considerable
difference between the perceptions of the mind, when a man feels the
pain of excessive heat, or the pleasure of moderate warmth, and when he
afterwards recalls to his memory this sensation, or anticipates it by
his imagination. These faculties may mimic or copy the perceptions of
the senses; but they never can entirely reach the force and vivacity of
the original sentiment. The utmost we say of them, even when they
operate with greatest vigour, is, that they represent their object in so
lively a manner, that we could _almost_ say we feel or see it: But,
except the mind be disordered by disease or madness, they never can
arrive at such a pitch of vivacity, as to render these perceptions
altogether undistinguishable. All the colours of poetry, however
splendid, can never paint natural objects in such a manner as to make
the description be taken for a real landskip. The most lively thought is
still inferior to the dullest sensation.

We may observe a like distinction to run through all the other
perceptions of the mind. A man in a fit of anger, is actuated in a very
different manner from one who only thinks of that emotion. If you tell
me, that any person is in love, I easily understand your meaning, and
form a just conception of his situation; but never can mistake that
conception for the real disorders and agitations of the passion. When we
reflect on our past sentiments and affections, our thought is a faithful
mirror, and copies its objects truly; but the colours which it employs