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E S S A

ON THE

INTELLECTUAL POWERS

OF MA N.

By THOMAS R E I D, D. D. F. R. S. E.

PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW.

Who hath put wifdom in the inward parts ? Job.

EDINBURGH:

Printed for JOHN BELL, Parliament Sqtjare,
And G. G. J. & J. ROBINSON, London.

M^CC,LXXXV,

940573

TO

Mr DUGALD STEWART,

LATELY PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS,
NOW PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY^

AND

Dr JAMES GREGORY,

PROFESSOR OF THE THEORY OF PHYSIC,
In the Univerfity of Edinburgh^

My dear Friends^^

1KNOW not to whom I Can addrefs thefe Eflays
with more propriety than to You ; not only on ac-
count of a friendfhip begun in early life on your part,
though in old age on mine, and in one of you I may
fay hereditary ; nor yet on account of that correfpon-
dence in our literary purfuits and amufements, which
has always given me fo great pleafure ; but becaufe, if
thefe Eflays have any merit, you have a confiderable
fliare in it, having not only encouraged me to hope that

a 2 they

iv DEDICATION.

they may be iifeful, but favoured me with your obfer-
vations on every part of them, both before they were
fent to the Prefs and while they were under it.

I have availed myfelf of your obfervations, fo as to
corred: many faults that might other wife have efcaped
me ; and I have a very grateful fenfe of your friendfliip,
in giving this aid to one, who ftood much in need of it ;
having no fhame, but much pleafure, in being inftrudted
by thofe who formerly were my pupils, as one of you
was.

It would be ingratitude to a man wliofe memory I
moft highly refpecl, not to mention my obligations to
the late Lord Kames for the concern he was pleafed to
take in this Work. Having feen a fmall part of it, he
urged me to carry it on ; took account of my progrefs
from time to time ; revifed it more than once, as far as
it was carried, before his death j and gave me his obfer-
vations on it,' both with refped to the matter and the
exprefTion. On fome points we differed in opinion, and
debated them keenly, both in converfation and by ma-
ny letters, without any abatement of his affection, or of
his zeal for the Work's being carried on and publifhed :
For, he had too much liberality of mind not to allow to

others

D E D I a\hJTX J ON. V

others the fame liberty in judging which he claimed to
himfelf.

It is difficult to fay whether that worthy man was
more eminent in adive life or in fpeculation. Very rare,
furely, have been the inftances where the talents for
both were united in fo eminent a degree.

His genius and induftry, in many different branches
of literature, will, by his works, be known to pofterity ;
His private virtues, and public fpirit,his aiUduity, through
a long and laborious life, in many honourable public of-
fices with which he was entrufted, and his zeal to en-
courage and promote every thing that tended to the im-
provement of his country in laws, literature, commerce,
manufadures and agriculture, are heft known to his
friends and cotemporaries.

The favourable opinion which He, and You my Friends,
were pleafed to' exprefs of this Work, has been my chief
encouragement to lay it before the Public; and perhaps,
without that encouragement, it had never feen the light :
For I have always found, that, without fecial intercourfe,
even a favourite fpeculation languifhes ; and that we
caiuiot help thinking the better of our own opinions

when

VI

DEDICATION.

when they are approved by thofc whom we efteem good
judges.

You know that the fubftance of thefe Eflays was de-
livered annually, for more than twenty years, in Lectures
to a large body of the more advanced fludents in thi&
Univerfity, and for feveral years before, in another Uni-
verfity. Thofe who heard me with attention, of whom
I prefume there are fome hundreds alive, will recognife
the dodrine which they heard, fome of them thirty^
years ago, delivered to them more diffufely, and with
the repetitions and illuftrations proper for fuch audi-
ences.

I am afraid, indeed, that the more intelligent reader^
who is converfant in fuch abftraft fubjedls, may think
that there are repetitions ftill left, which might be fpared.
Such, I hope, will confider, that what to one reader is
a fuperfluous repetition, to the greater part, lefs conver-
fant in fuch fubjeds, may be very tifeful. If this apo- ^
logy be deemed infufficient, and be thought to be the
dictate of lazinefs, I claim fome indulgence even for
that lazinefs, at my period of life.

You

DEDICATION,

vu

You who are in the prime of life, with the vigour
which it infpires, will, I hope, make more happy ad-
vances in this or in any other branch of fcience to
which your talents may be applied.

Glasgow-College, 7
June I. 1785, ^

THO. REID.

CONTENTS.

CONTENTS-

Page

PREFACE, - - . . I

ESSAY I. PRELIMINARY.

Chap. i. Explication of words ^ - - _ g

2. Principles taken for grantedy - ~ ^6

3. Of hypothefeSy - _ - 46

4. Of analogy y - . _ j2

5- Of the proper means of knowing the operations of the

mindy - _ _ _ ry

— — 6. Of the difficulty of attending to the operations of our

own minds y - - - 61

7. Divifon of the powers of the mindy - 67

8. Of facial operations of mind, - - 72^

ESSAY II. OF THE POWERS WE HAVE BY MEANS
OF OUR EXTERNAL SENSES.

Chap.^,, \j,^ Of the organs of fcnfcy - - 75.

2. Of the impreffions on the organs y nerves y and brainy 79

3. Hypothefes concerning the nerves and brainy - 82

■ 4. Falfe conclifions drawn from the impreffions before men-

tionedy _ _ _ g^.

5. Of perceptiony - - ' - 105

6. What it is to account for a phenomenon in NaturCy 112

7. Sentiments of Phihfophers about the perception of exter-

nal objeEls ; andyfirfly Of the theory of Father Male-

BRANCHE, _ _ - 115

■ 8. Of the common theory of perception yond of the fentiments

of the Peripatetic Sy and of Des Ca^tes^ 125

b Chap..

CONTENTS.

Chap. 9. Of thefent'anents of Mrl^ocvi'S.^

0. Of the fetithnents of Bifiop Berkeley,

1. Bifhop V>Y.^YiY.\.v.\\ fentiments of the nature of ideas^

2. Of the fentiments of Mr HuME,

3. Of the fentiments of Antony Arnauld,

4. Refledlions on the common theory of ideas^

5. Account of thefyjlem of Leibnitz,

6. Of fenfatlon^ _ _ -

7. Of the objeSls of perception ; andy firfl. Of primary
and fecondary qualities , - - 235

8. Of other obje^s of perception, - - 248

9. Of matter and f pace, - - 257

20. Of the evidence of fenfe, and of belief in general, 267

21. Of the improvemei\t of the fenfes , - - 278
2 2. Of the fallacy of the fenfes, - - 288

Page

156

185
190
197
218
226

ESSAY III. OF MEMORY.

Chap. 1. 'things obvious and certain laith regard to memory, 303

— — 2. Memory an original faculty, - - 306

3. Of duration, - - - - 310

4. Of identity, - - - - 315

— — 5. Mr Locke's account of the origin of our ideas, and

partictdarly of the idea of duration, - 322

' 6. Of Mr hocYL?.''?, account of our perfonal identity, 332

7. Theories concerning memory.

338

ESSAY IV. OF CONCEPTION.

Chap. i. Of conception, or fimple apprehenfton in general, 357

2. Theories concerning conception, - - 378

• 3. Mi/lakes concerning conception, - - 395

4. Of the train of thought in the mind, - - 405

ESSAY

CONTENTS. ati

ESSAY V. OF ABSTRACTION.

Page

Chap. i. Of general ivords^ - - - - 431

"^ — ^* Of general conceptions f - - - 438

r-*-^^ — 3. Of general conceptions formed by analyfihg objeSISy 445

-* 4. Of general conceptions formed by combination^ - 45 j

> 5. Obfervations concerning the names given to our general

notions^ - - - - 471

6. Opinions of Philofopbers about univerfals^ - 475

ESSAY VI. OF JUDGMENT.

Chap. I. Of judgment in general^ _ - - 4^7

2. Of common fenfe^ -' - - - ^ig

3. Sentiments of Philofopbers concerning judgment y ^'}^l

4. Of jirjt principles in general^ - _ _ ^^^

— — 5. T'he firji principles of contingent truths ^ - - 575

6. Firjl principles of neceffary truths y - - 605

7. Opinions ancient and modern about fff principles, 632

8. O/' prejudices, the caufes of error, - - 65 1

ESSAY VII. OF REASONING.

Chap. i. Of reafoning in general, and of demonf ration, - 671

■ 2. Whether morality be capable of demonjlration, - 678

3. Of probable reafoning, _ . _ ggp

4. OfMr'HiswE'^fcepticifm'withregardtoreafon, 697

ESSAY

xii CONTENTS.

ESSAY VIII. OF TASTE.

Page
Chap. i. Of tajle in general^ - - - 713

2. Of the ohjeEis of tajle^ andfrjl of novelty ^ - 72 1

3- Of grandeur, . - _ 72^5

4. Of beauty, - _ . . 737

PREFACE.

PREFACE.

HUMAN knowledge may be reduced to two general heads,
according as it relates to body, or to mind j to things mia-
terial, or to things intelledual.

The whole fyftem of bodies in the Univerfe, of which we
know but a very fmall part, may be called the Material World j
the whole fyftem of minds, from the infinite Creator to the
meaneft creature endowed with thought, may be called the In-
telledlual World. Thefe are the two great kingdoms of nature
that fall within our notice ; and about the one, or the other, or
things pertaining to them, every art, every fcience, and every
human thought is employed ; nor can the boldeft flight of ima-
gination carry us beyond their limits.

Many things^there are indeed regarding the nature and the
ftrudlure both of body and of mind, which our faculties cannot
reach; many difBculties which the ableft Philofopher cannot
refolve ; but of other natures, if any other there be, we have no
knowledge, no conception at all.

That every thing that exifts muft be either corporeal or in-
corporeal, is evident. But it is not fo evident, that every thing

A that

PREFACE.

that exifts muft either be corporeal, or endowed with thought.
Whether there be in the Univerfe, beings, which are neither ex-
tended, folid and inert, like body, nor adlive and intelligent,
like mind, feems to be beyond the reach of our knowledge.
There appears to be a vaft interval between body and mind, and
whether there be any intermediate nature that conne(fls them
together, we know not.

We have no reafon to afcribe intelligence, or even fenfation,
to plants ; yet there appears in them an adlive force and energy,
which cannot be the refult of any arrangement or combination
of inert matter. The fame thing may be faid of thofe powers
by which animals are nouriflied and grow, by which matter
gravitates, by which magnetical and eledlrical bodies attra6t and
repel each other, and by which the parts of folid bodies cohere.

Some have conjedlured that the phaenomcna of the material
world which require a(5live force, are produced by the continual
operation of intelligent beings : Others have conje<flured, that
there may be in the Univerfe, beings that are adlive without in-
telligence, which, as a kind of incorporeal machinery, contrived
by the fupreme Wifdom, perform their deflined tafk without
any knowledge or intention. But, laying afide conjedlure, and
all pretences to determine in things beyond our reach, we muft
reft in this, that body and mind are the .only kinds of being of
which we can have any knowledge, or can form any conception*
If there are other kinds, they are not difcoverable by the facul-
ties which God hath given us ; and, with regard to us, are a&
if they were not.

As

PREFACE.

As therefore all our knowledge is confined to body and mind,
or things belonging to them, there are two great branches of
philofophy, one relating to body, the other to mind. The pro-
perties of body, and the laws that obtain in the material fyftem,
are the objecSls of natural philofophy, as that word is now ufed.
The branch which treats of the nature and operations of minds
has by fome been called Pneumatology. And to the one or the
other of thefe branches, the principles of all the fciences belong.

What variety there may be - of minds or thinking beings
throughout this vaft Univerfe, we cannot pretend to fay. We
dwell in a little corner of God's dominion, disjoined from the
reft of it. The globe which we inhabit is but one of feven planets
that encircle our fun. What various orders of beings may in-
habit the other fix, their fecondaries, and the comets belonging
to our fyftem; and how many other funs may be encircied
with like fyftems, are things altogether hid from us. Although
human reafon and induftry have difcovered with great accuracy
tlie order and diftances of the planets, and the laws of their
motion, we have no means of correfponding with them. That
they may be the habitation of animated beings is very probable ;
but of the nature, or powers of their inhabitants, we are per-
fedly ignorant. Every man is confcious of a thinking principle
or mind in himfelf, and we have fufficient evidence of a like
principle in other men. The ac5lions of brute animals fhow that
diey have fome thinking principle, though of a nature far in-
ferior to the human mind. And every thing about us may con-^
vince us of the exiftence of a fupreme mind, the Maker and
Governor of the Univerfe. Thefe are all the minds of which
reafon can give us any certain knowledge.

A 2 The

PREFACE.

The mind of man is the nobleft work of God which reafbn
difcovers to us, and therefore, on account of its dignity, deferves
our ftudy. It muft indeed be acknowledged, that although it
is of all objedls the neareft to us, and feems the mod within our
reach, it is very difficult to attend to its operations fo as to form
a diftinft notion of them ; and on that account there is no
branch of knowledge in which the ingenious and fpeculative
have fallen into fo great errors, and even abfurdities. Thefe
errors and abfurdities have given rife to a general prejudice
againft all enquiries of this nature. Becaufe ingenious men
have, for many ages, given different and contradidlory accounts
of the powers of the mind, it is concluded, that all fpeculations
concerning them are chimerical and vifionary.

But whatever effecfl this prejudice may have with fuperficial
thinkers, the judicious will not be apt to be carried away with
it. About two hundred years ago, the opinions of men in na-
tural philofophy were as various, and as contradi(5lory, as they
are now concerning the powers of the mind. Galileo, Tor-
RiCELLi, Kepler, Bacon, and Newton, had the fame dif-
couragement in their attempts to throw light upon the material
fyftem, as we have with regard to the intelledual. If they had
been deterred by fuch prejudices, we fhould never have reaped
the benefit of their difcoveries, which do honour to human
nature, and will make their names immortal. The motto which
Lord Bacon prefixed to fome of his writings was worthy of
his genius, Invcinam viam atitfac'iam.

There is a natural order in the progrefs of the fciences, and
good reafons may be affigned why the philofophy of body Ihoul^l

be

PREFACE.

be elder Jijler to that of mind, and of a quicker growth ; but the
laft hath the principle of life no lefs than the firft, and will grow
up, though flowly, to maturity. The remains of ancient phi-
lofophy upon this fubjecfl, are venerable ruins, carrying the marks
of genius and induflry, fufficient to inflame, but not to fatisfy, our
curiofity. In later ages, Des Cartes was the firft that pointed
out the road we ou^ht to take in thofe dark regions. Ma-

LEBRANCHE, ArNAUD, LoCKE, BERKELEY, BuFFIER, HUTCHE-

SON, Butler, Hume, Price, Lord Kames, have laboured to
make difcoveries ; nor have they laboured in vain. For, however
different and contrary their conclufions are, however fceptical
fome of them, they have all given new light, and cleared the
way to thofe who fliall come after them.

We ought never to defpair of human genius, but rather to
hope, that, in time, it may produce a fyftem of the powers and
operations of the human mind, no lefs certain than thofe of op-
'tics or aftronomy.

This is the more devoutly to be "vvifhed, that a diftind know-
ledge of the powers of the mind would undoubtedly give great
light to many other branches of fcience. Mr Hume hath juftly
obferved, that " all the fciences have a relation to human na-
" ture ; and, however wide any of them may feem to run from
" it, they ftill return back by one paflage or another. This i»
" the centre and capital of the fciences, which being once ma-
" fters of, we may eafily extend our conquefts every where."

The faculties of our minds are the tools and engines we muft
ufe in every difquifition ; and the better we underftand their

nature

PREFACE.

nature and force, the more fuccefsfully we ftiall be able to apply
them. Mr Locke gives this account of the occafion of his en-
tering upon his EfTay concerning human underftancling : " Five
" or fix friends (fays he) meeting at my chamber, and difcourfing
" on a fubjedl very "remote from this, found themfelves quickly
" at a ftand, by the difficulties that rofe on every fide. After
" we had for a while puzzled ourfelves, without coming any
" nearer to a refolution of thofe doubts that perplexed us, it
" came into my thoughts that we took a wrong courfe ; and
" that, before we fet ourfelves upon enquiries of that nature,
" it was necefiTary to examine our own abilities, and fee what
" objeds our underftandings were fitted or not fitted to deal
" with. This I propofed to the company, who all readily afi^ent-
" ed ; and thereupon it was agreed that this fhould be our firft
" Enquiry." If this be commonly the caufe of perplexity in
thofe difquifitions which have leaft relation to the mind, it muft
be fo much more in thofe that have an immediate conrie<5lion
with it.

The fciences may be diflingulfhed into two clafTes, according
as they pertain to the material or to the intellecftual world. The
various parts of Natural Philofophy, the mechanical Arts, Che-
miftry. Medicine, and Agriculture, belong to the firft ; but, to
the laft, belong Grammar, Logic, Rhetoric, Natural Theology ;
Morals, Jurifprudence, Law, Politics, and the fine Arts. The
knowledge of the human mind is the root from which thefe
grow, and draw their nourilliment. Whether therefore we con-
fider the dignity of this fubjecSl, or its fubferviency to fcience in
general, and to the nobleft branches of fcience in particular, it
highly deferves to be cultivated.

A

PREFACE.

A very elegant writer, on thtfublime and beautiful^ concludes his
account of the paflions thus : " The variety of the paflions is
" great, and worthy, in every branch of that variety, of the
" moft diligent inveftigation. The more accurately we fearch
*' into the human mind, the (Ironger traces we every where
*' find of his wifdom w^ho made it. If a difcourfe on the
" ufe of the parts of the body may be confidered as a hymn to
" the Creator ; the ufe of the paflions, which are the organs of
" the mind, cannot be barren of praife to him, nor unproduc-
*' tive to ourfelves of that noble and uncommon union of fci-
" ence and admiration, which a contemplation of the works of
" infinite Wifdom alone can afford to a rational mind ; whilfl re-
" ferring to him whatever we find of right, or good, or fair, in
" ourfelves, difcovering his ftrength and wifdom even in our
" own weaknefs and imperfedion, honouring them where we
" difcover them clearly, and adoring their profundity where we
" are lofl in our fearch, we may be inquifitive without imperti-
" nence, and elevated without pride; we may be admitted, if I
" may dare to fay fo, into the counfels of the Almighty, by a
" confideration of his works. This elevation of the mind ought
" to be the principal end of all our fludies, which, if they do
" not in fome meafure effed, they are of very little fervice
■** to us."

ESSAYS

E S S A Y S

O N T H E

INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF MAN.

E S S A Y L

PRELIMINARY.

CHAP. I.

Explication of Words.

THERE is no greater impediment to the advancement of
knowledge than the ambiguity of words. To this chiefly it
is owing that we find feds and parties in mofl branches of fcience ;
and difputes, which are carried on from age to age, without
being brought to an ifTue.

Sophiftry has been more efFedlually excluded from mathematics
and natural philofophy than from other fciences. In mathematics
it had no place from the beginning : Mathematicians having had
the wifdom to define accurately the terms they ufe, and to lay down,
as axioms, the firft principles on which their reafoning is grounded.
Accordingly we find no parties among mathematicians, and hardly
any difputes.

B In

lO

ESSAY I.

CHAP. I. In natural philofophy, there was no lefs fophiftry, no lefs dlfpute
and uncertainty, than in other fciences, until about a century and
a half ago, this fcience began to be built upon the foundation of
clear definitions and felf-evident axioms. Since that time, the fcience,
as if watered with the dew of Heaven, hath grown apace; difputes
have ceafed, truth hath prevailed, and the fcience hath received
greater increafe in two centuries than in two thoufand years before.

It were to be wifhed, that this method, which hath been fo fuccefs-
ful in thofe branches of fcience, were attempted in others : For defini-
tions and axioms are the foundations of all fcrence. But thatdefinitions
may not be fought, where no definition can be given, nor logical defi-
nitions be attempted, where thefubjedl does not admit of them, it may
be proper to lay down fome general principles concerning definition,
for the fake of thofe who are le£s converfant in this branch of logic.

When one undertakes to explain any art or fcience, he will have
occafion to u£e many words that are common to all who ufe the fame
language, and fome that are peculiar to that art or fcience. Words
of the lad kind are called terms of the art, and ought to be diftlntflly
explained, that their meaning may be underflood.

A definition is nothing elfe but an explication of the meaning of
a word, by words whofe meaning is already known. Hence it is
evident, that every word cannot be defined ; for the definition mufl
confifl of words ; and there could be no definition, if there weie
not words previoufly iinderftood without definition. Common
words, therefore, ought to be ufed in their common acceptation ;
and, when they have different acceptations in common language,
thefe, when it is neceffary, ought to be diftlnguifl-ied. But they re-
quire no definition. It is fufiicient to define words that are un-
common, or that are ufed in an uncommon meaning.

It may farther be obferved, that there are many words, which,
though they may need explication, cannot be logically defined. A

logical

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. ii

logical definition, that is, a flrid and proper definition, muft ex- CHAP. I.
prels the kind of the thing defined, and the fpecific difference, by
which the fpecies defined, is diftinguiflied from every other fpecies
belonging to that kind. It is natural to the mind of man to clafs
things under various kinds, and again to fubdivide every kind into
its various fpecies. A fpecies may often be fubdivided into fubor-
dinate fpecies, and then it is confidered as a kind.

From what has been faid of logical definition, it is evident, that
no word can be logically defined which does not denote a fpecies ;
becaufe fuch things only can have a fpecific difference; and a fpe-
cific difference is effential to a logical definition. On this account
there can be no logical definition of individual things, fuch as
London or Paris. Individuals are diflinguifhed either by proper
names, or by accidental circumftances of time or place ; but they
have no fpecific difference ; and therefore, though they may be
known by proper names, or may be defcribed by circumftances or
relations, they cannot be defined. It is no lefs evident, that the
xnoft general words cannot be logically defined, becaufe there is
not a more general term, of which they are a fpecies.

Nay, we cannot define every fpecies of things, becaufe it happen*
fometimes that we have not words to exprefs the fpecific difference.
Thus a fcarlet colour is, no doubt, a fpecies of colour ; but how
fhall we exprefs the fpecific difference by which fcarlet is diftin-
guiflied from green or blue ? The difference of them is immediate-
ly perceived by the eye ; but we have not words to exprefs it.
Thefe things we are taught by logic.

Without having recourfe to the principles of logic, we may ea-
fily be fatisfied that words cannot be defined, which fignify things
perfedlly fimple, and void of all compofition. This obfervation,
I think, was firft made by Des Cartes, and afterwards more
fully illuftrated by Locke. And however obvious it appears to be,
many inftances may be given of great philofophers who have per-

B 2 plexed

12

ESSAY I.

CHAP. I. plexed and darkened the fubjeds they have treated, by not know-
ing, or not attending to it.

When men attempt to define things which cannot be defined,
their definitions will always be either obfcure or falfe. It was one
of the capital defers of Aristotle's philofophy, that he pretended
to define the fimplefl things, which neither can be, nor need to be
defined ; fuch as time and motion. Among modern philofophers,
I know none that has abufed definition fo much as Carolus
WoLFius, the famous German philofopher, who, in a work on
the human mind, called Pfychologia Empirica^ confifting of many
hundred propofitions, fortified by demonftrations, with a propor-
tional accompanyment of definitions, corollaries, and ftholia, has
given fo many definitions of things, which cannot be defined, and
fo many demonftrations of things felf-evident, that the greateft
part of the work confifls of tautology, and ringing changes upon
words.

There is no fubje(5l in which there is more frequent occafion to
ufe words that cannot be logically defined, than in treating of the
powers and operations of the mind. The fimplefl operations of our
minds muft all be exprefled by words of this kind. No man can
explain by a logical definition what it is to think, to apprehend,
to believe, to will, to defire. Every man who underftands the
language has fome notion of the meaning of thofe words ; and
every man, who is capable of reflexion, may, by attending to
the operations of his own mind, which are fignified by them, form
a clear and diftin(5l notion of them ; but they cannot be logically
defined.

Since therefore it is often impoffible to define words which we
muft ufe on this, fubjed:, we muft as much as poflible ufe com-
mon words, in their common acceptation, pointing out their va-
rious fenfes where they are ambiguous ; and when we are obli-
ged to ufe words lefs common, we muft endeavour to explain them

as

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 13

as well as we can, without afFedlng to give logical definitions, CHAP. i.
when the nature of the thing does not allow it.

The following obfervations on the meaning of certain words
are intended to fupply, as far as we can, the want of definitions,
by preventing ambiguity or obfcurity in the ufe of them.

1. By the mind of a man, we underfland that in him which
thinks, remembers, reafons, wills. The effence both of body and
of mind is unknown to us. We know certain properties of the
firfl, and certain operations of the lafl, and by thefe only we can
define or defcribe them. We define body to be that which is
extended, folid, moveable, divifible. In like manner, we define
mind to be that which thinks. We are confcious that we think,
and that we have a variety of thoughts of diflerent kinds ; fuch
as feeing, hearing, remembering, deliberating, refolving, loving,
hating, and many other kinds of thought, all which we are taught
by nature to attribute to one internal principle ; and this principle
of thought we call the mind or foul of a man.

2. By the operations of the mind, we underfland every mode of
thinking of which we are confcious.

It deferves our notice, that the various modes of thinking have
always, and in all languages, as far as we know, been called by the
name of Operations of the mind, or by names of the fame im-
port. To body we afcribe various properties, but not operations,
properly fo called ; it is extended, divifible, moveable, inert ; it
continues in any ftate in which it is put ; every change of its Hate
is the eflTeifl of fome force impreffed upon it, and is exacflly pro-
portional to the force impreffed, and in the precife direction of
that force. Thefe are the general properties of matter, and thefe
are not operations ; on the contrary, they all imply its being a dead
inaflive thing, which moves only as it is moved, and adls only
by being a£led upon.

But

ESSAY I.

But the mind is from its very nature a living and aclive being.
Every thing we know of it implies life and aclive energy; and the
reafon why all its modes of thinking are called its operations, is, that
in all, or in moft of them, it is not merely paflive as body is,
but is really and properly active.

In all ages, and in all languages, ancient and modem, the va-
rious modes of thinking have been expreffed by words of adlive
fignification, fuch as feeing, hearing, reafoning, willing, and the
like. It feems therefore to be the natural judgment of mankind,
that the mind is a(5live in its various ways of thinking ; and for
this reafon they are called its operations, and are exprelTed by
aclive verbs.

It may be made a queflion. What regard is to be paid to this
natural judgment ? may it not be a vulgar error ? Philofophcrs
who think fo, have, no doubt, a right to be heard. But until it
is proved that the mind is not a6live in thinking, but merely paf-
live, the common language with regard to its operations ought
to be ufed, and ought not to give place to a phrafeology invented
by Philofophcrs, which implies its being merely paflive.

3. The words power and faculty^ which are often ufed in fpeak-
ing of the mind, need little explication. Every operation fuppofes
a power in the being that operates ; for to fuppofe any thing to
operate, which has no power to operate, is manifeftly abfurd.
But, on the other hand, there is no abfurdity in fuppofing a
being to have power to operate, when it does not operate. Thus
I may have power to walk, when I fit ; or to fpeak, when I am
filcnt. Every operation therefore implies power ; but the power
does not imply the operation.

The faculties of the mind, and its powers, are often ufed as fyno-
nimous expreflions. But as moft fynonimes have fome minute
diftinclion that deferves notice, I apprehend that the word fa-

cnlty

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 15

cuUy is mofl properly applied to thofe powers of the mind which are chap, r.

original and natural, and which make a part of the conftitution

of the mind. There are other powers wdiich are acquired by

ufe, exercile or fludy, which are not called faculties, but habits.

There mufl be fomething in the conftitution of the mind necef-

fary to our being able to acquire habits, and this is commonly

called capacity.

4. We frequently meet with a difl;in(5lion in writers upon this -
fubjedl, between things in the mind, and things external to the
mind. The powers, faculties, and operations of the mind, are
things in the mind. Every thing is faid to be in the mind, of
which the mind is the fuhje&. It is felf-evident, that there are
fome things which cannot exift without a fubjedl to which they
belong, and of which they are attributes. Thus colour mull be
in fomething coloured; figure in fomething figured; thought
can only be in fomething that thinks ; wifdom and virtue can-
not exift but in fome being that is wife and virtuous. When
therefore we fpeak of things in the mind, we underfland by this,
things of v/hich the mind is the fubje(5l. Excepting the mind
itfelf, and things in the mind, all other things are faid to be ex-
ternal. It ought therefore to be remembered, that this diftinclion
between things in tlie mind, and things external, is not meant to
fignify the place of the things we fpeak of, but their fubjed.

There is a figurative fenfe in which things are faid to be in
the mind, which it is fufEcient barely to mention. We fay fuch
a thing was not in my mind, meaning no more than that I had
not the leaft thought of it. By a figure, we put the thing for the
thought of it. In this fenfe external things, are in the mind as
often as they are the objeds of our thought.

5. 'Thinkitig is a very general word, which includes all the ope-
rations of our minds, and is fo well underftood as to need no defi-
nition.

To

i6 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. I. To perceive^ to remember^ to be cotifctous, and to conceive or imu'
gifie, are words common to Philofophers, and to the vulgar. They
fignify different operations of the mind, which are diftinguifhed
in all languages, and by all men that think. I fliall endeavour to ufe
them in their moil common and proper acceptation, and I think
they are hardly capable of ftrid definition. But as fome Philofo-
phers, in treating of the mind, have taken the liberty to ufe them
very improperly, fo as to corrupt the Englifli language, and to con-
found things, which the common underftanding of mankind hath
always led them to diftinguifh, I fliall make fome obfervations
on the meaning of them, that may prevent ambiguity or confufion
in the ufe of them.

6. jF/Vy?, We are never faid to perceive things, of the exiftence of
which we have not a fullconvidlion. 1 may conceive or imagine a. moun-
tain of gold, or a winged horfe ; but no man fays that he perceives
fuch a creature of imagination. Thus perception is diftinguiflied
from conception or imagination. Secondly, Perception is applied only
to external objedls, not to thofe that are in the mind itfelf. "When
I am pained, I do not fay that I perceive pain, but that I feel it, or
that I am confcious of it. Thus perception is diftinguiflaed from
confcioufnefs. Thirdly, The immediate objedt of perception muft be
fomething prefent, and not what is paft. We may remember
what is paft, but do not perceive it. I may fay, I perceive fuch
a perfon has had the fmall-pox ; but this phrafe is figurative, al-
though the figure is fo familiar that it is not obferved. The
meaning of it is, that I perceive the pits in his face, which are cer-
tain figns of his having had the fmall-pox. We fay we perceive
the thing fignified, when we only perceive the fign. But when the
word perception is ufed properly, and without any figure, it is never
applied to things paft. And thus it is diftinguiflied from remem-
brance.

In a word, perception is moft properly applied to the evidence
which we have of external objeds by our fenfes. But as this is a

very

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 17

very clear and cogent kind of evidence, the word is often applied by C H A. P. 1.
analogy to the evidence of reafon or of teftimony, when it is clear
and cogent. The perception of external objects by our fenfes, is
an operation of the mind of a peculiar nature, and ought to have
a name appropriated to it. It has fo in all languages. And, in
Englifh, I know no word more proper to exprefs this adl of the
mind than perception. Seeing, hearing, fmelling, tafting, and
touching or feeling, are words that exprefs the operations proper to
each fenfe ; perceiving exprefles that which is common to them all.

The obfervations made on this word would have been unnecefTa-
ry, if it had not been fo much abufed in philofophical writings
upon the mind ; for, in other writings, it has no obfcurity. Al-
though this abufe is not chargeable on Mr Hume only, yet I think
he has carried it to the highefl: pitch. The firft fentence of his
Treatife of human nature runs thus : " All the perceptions of the
" human mind refolve themfelves into two diflindl heads, which
" I (hall call imprefllons and ideas." He adds a little after, that,
under the name of impreflions, he comprehends all our fenfations,
pafFions, and emotions. Here we learn, that our paffions and emo-
tions are perceptions. I believe, no Englifh writer before him ever
gave the name of a perception to any paffion or emotion. When
a man is angry, we muft fay that he has the perception of anger.
When he is in love, that he has the perception of love. He fpeaks
often of the perceptions of memory, and of the perceptions of ima-
gination ; and he might as well fpeak of the hearing of fight, or
of the fmelling of touch ; For, furely, hearing is not more diffe-
rent from fight, or fmelling from touch, than perceiving is from
remembering or imagining.

7. Confc'ioufnefs is a word ufed by Philofophers, to fignify that
immediate knowledge which we have of our prefent thoughts and
purpofes, and, in general, of all the prefent operations of our
minds. Whence we may obferve, that confcioufnefs is only of
things prefent. To apply confcioufnefs to things pafl, which fome-

C ' times

iS E S S A Y I.

CHAP. L times is done in popular cllfcourfe, is to confound confcioufnefs
with memory ; and all fuch confufion of words ought to be avoid-
ed in philofophical difcourfe. It is likewife to be obferved, that
confcioufnefs is only of things in the mind, and not of external
things. It is improper to fay I am eonfcious of the table which
is before me. I perceive it, I fee it, but do not f«*^ I am eonfci-
ous of it. As that confcioufnefs by which we have a ^knowledge of
the operations of our own minds, is a different power from that by
which we perceive external objedls, andasthefe different powers have
different names in our language, and, I believe, in all languages,
a Philofopher ought carefully to preferve this di{lin<5lioh, and never
to confound things fo different in their nature.

8. Conceiving, imagining, and apprehending, are commonly ufed
as fynonymous in our language, and fignify the ^me thing which
the Logicians call fimple apprehenfion. This is an operation of
the mind different from all thofe we have mentioned. Whatever
we perceive, whatever we remember, whatever we are eonfcious
of, we have a full perfuafion or convidlion of its exiflence. But
we may conceive or imagine what has no exiftence, and what we
firmly believe to have no exiftence. What never had an exiftence
cannot be remembered ; what has no exiftence at prefent cannot be
the objedl of perception or of confcioufnefs ; but what never had,
nor has any exiftence, may be conceived. Every man knows that
it is as eafy to conceive a winged horfe or a centaur, as it is to
conceive a horfe or a man. Let it be obferved therefore, that to
conceive, to imagine, to apprehend, when taken in the proper fenfe,
fignify an adl of the mind which implies no belief or judgment at
all. It is an adl of the mind by which nothing is affirmed or de-
nied, and which therefore can neither be true nor falfe.

But there is another and a very different meaning of thofe words,
fo common and fo well authorifed in language, that it cannot eafily
be avoided ; and on that account we ought to be the more on our
guard, that wc be not miflcd by the ambiguity. Politenefs and

good-

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 19

good-breeding lead men, on moft occafions, to exprefs their opinions c H A f. i-
with modefty, efpecially when they differ from others whom they
ought to refpedt. Therefore, when we would exprefs our opinion
modeftly, inftead of faying, " This is my opinion," or, " this is
*' my judgment," which has the air of dogmatlcalnefs, we fay, " I
" conceive it to be thus, 1 Imagine or apprehend it to be thus;" which
is underflood as a modeft declaration of our judgment. In like
manner, when any thing is faid which we take to be impoflible,
we fay, " We cannot conceive it," meaning, that we cannot be-
lieve it.

Thus we fee that the words conceive^ imagine, apprehend^ have two
meanings, and are ufed to exprefs two operations of the mind,
which ought never to be confounded. Sometimes they exprefs
fimple apprehenfion, which implies no judgment at all ; fometimes
they exprefs judgment or opinion. This ambiguity ought to be
attended to, that we may not impofe upon ourfelves or others in
the ufe of th^m. The ambiguity is indeed remedied in a great
meafure by their con(lni(5lion. When they are ufed to exprefs
fimple apprehenfion, they are followed by a noun in the acciifativc.
cafe, which fignifies the object conceived. But when they are ufed
to exprefs opinion or judgment, they are commonly followed by a
verb in the infinitive mood. " I conceive an Egyptian pyramid."
This implies no judgment. " I conceive the Egyptian pyramids to
" be the moft ancient monuments of human art." This implies
judgment. When the words are ufed in the laft fenfe, the thing
conceived muft be a propofition, becaufe judgment cannot be ex-
prefied but by a propofition. When they are ufed in the firft fenfe,
the thing conceived may be no propofition, but a fimple term only,
as a pyramid, an obelifk. Yet it may be obferved, that even a pro-
pofition may be fimply apprehended without forming any judg-
ment of its truth or falfehood : For it is one thing to conceive the
meaning of a propofition ; it is another thing to judge it to be true
or falfe.

C 2 Although

20

ESSAY I.

c H A P. I. Although the diftindion between fimple apprehenfion and ever^
degree of atlent or judgment, be perfedly evident to every man
who reflects attentively on what pafles in his own mind; although it
is very neceffary, in treating of the powers of the mind, to attend
carefully to this diftindion ; yet, in the affairs of common hfe, it
is feldom neceflary to obferve it accurately. On this account we
fliall find, in all common languages, the words which exprefs one
of thofe operations frequently applied to the other. To think, to
fuppofe, to imagine, to conceive, to apprehend, are the words we
ufe to exprefs fimple apprehenfion ; but they are all frequently
ufed to exprefs judgment. Their ambiguity feldom occafions any
inconvenience in the common affairs of life, for which language is
framed. But it has perplexed Philofophers, in treating of the ope-
rations of the mind, and will always perplex them, if they do not
attend accurately to the different meanings which are put upon
thofe words on different occafions.

g. Mofl of the operations of the mind, from their very nature,^
mufl have objedls to which they are diredted, and about which
they are employed. He that perceives, mufl perceive fomethlng ;
and that which he perceives is called the objed of his perception.
To perceive, without having any objedl of perception, is impoflible.
The mind that perceives, the objedl perceived, and the operation of
perceiving that objedl, are diflindl things, and are diflinguifhed in
the flrudure of all languages. In this fentence, " I fee, or perceive
" the moon ;" / is the perfon or mind ; the adlive verb fee denotes
the operation of that mind ; and the moon denotes the objed. What
we have faid of perceiving, is equally applicable to mofl operations
of the mind. Such operations are, in all languages, expreffed by
adlive tranfitive verbs : And we know, that, in all languages, fuch
verbs require a thing or perfon, which is the agent, and a noun
following in an oblique cafe, which is the objedl. Whence it is
evident, that all mankind, both thofe who have contrived language,
and thofe who ufe it with underftanding, have diflinguiflied thefe
three things as difl'ercnt, to wit, the operations of the mind, which

are

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. " 21

are exprefTed by adive verbs, the mind itfelf, which is the nomina- CHAP. I.
tive to thofe verbs, and the objed, which is, in the obUque cafe,
governed by them.

It would have been unneceflary to explain fo obvious a diftinc-
tion, if fome fyftems of philofophy had not confounded it. Mr
Hume's fyftem, in particular, confounds all diflindion between
the operations of the mind and their objects. When he fpeaks of
the ideas of memory, the ideas of imagination, and the ideas of
fenfe, it is often impoffible, from the tenor of his difcourfe, to
know whether, by thofe ideas, he means the operations of the
" mind, or the obje(5l:s about which they are employed. And in-
deed, according to his fyftem, there is no diftindion between the
one and the other.

A Philofopher is, no doubt, entitled to examine even thofe di-
ftindions that are to be found in the ftrudure of all languages; and,
if he is able to fhew that there is no foundation for them in the
nature of the things diftinguifhed ; if he can point out fome pre-
judice common to mankind which has led them to diftinguifh
things that are not really diiFerent ; in that cafe, fuch a diftindlion
may be imputed to a vulgar error, which ought to be corrected in
philofophy. But when, in his firft fetting out, he takes it for
granted, without proof, that diftindlions found in the ftrudure of
all languages, have no foundation in nature ; this furely is too
faftidiovis a way of treating the common fenfe of mankind. When
we come to be inftrudled by Philofophers, we muft bring the old
light of common fenfe along with us, and by it judge of the new
light which the Philofopher communicates to us. But when we
are requii-ed to put out the old light altogether, that we may fol-
low the new, we have reafon to be on our guard. There may be
diftindions that have a real foundation, and which may be necef-
farv in philofophy, which are not made in common language, be-
caufe not neceifary in the common bufinefs of life. But I believe

no

22 E S S A Y I.

^M^J*- ^- no inftance will be found of a diflindlion made in all languages,
which has not a juft foundation in nature.

lo. The word idea occurs fo frequently in modern philofophical
writings upon the mind, and is fo ambiguous in its meaning, that
it is neceflary to make forae obferyations upon it. There are
chiefly two meanings of this word in modern authors, a popular
and a philofophical.

Firjl^ In popular language, idea fignifi.es the fame thing as con-
ception, apprehenfion, notion. To have an idea of any thing,
is to conceive it. To have a diftincfl idea, is to conceive it di-
ftindlly. To have no idea of it, is not to conceive it at all.
It was before obferved, that conceiving or apprehending has
always been confidered by all men as an a<5l or operation of the
mind, and on that account has been exprefTed in all languages by
an adlive verb. When, therefore, we ufe the phrafe of having
ideas, in the popular fenfe, we ought to attend to this, that it fig-
nifies precifely the fame thing which we commonly exprefs by
the a(5live verbs conceiving or apprehending.

When the word idea is taken in this popular fenfe, no man can
poflibly doubt whether he has ideas. For he that doubts muft
think, and to think is to have ideas.

Sometimes, in popular language, a man's ideas flgnify his opi-
nions. The ideas of Aristotle, or of Epicurus, fignify the
opinions of thefe Philofophers. What was formerly faid of the
words imagine^ conceive, apprehend^ that they are fometimes ufed to
exprefs judgment, is no lefs true of the word idea. This fignifi-
cation of the word feems indeed more common in the French
language than in Englilh. But it is found in this fenfe in good
Englifh authors, and even in Mr Locke. Thus we fee, that
having ideas, taken in the popular fenfe, has precifely the fame
meaning with conceiving, imagining, apprehending, and has like-
wife

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 2?

9

wife the fame ambiguity. It may, therefore, be doubted, whether chap. i.
the intrqdudion of this word into popular difcourfe, to fignify the
operation of conceiving or apprehending, was at all neceflary. For,
fir/I, We have, as has been fliown, feveral words which are either ori-
ginally Englifli, or have been long naturalized, that exprefs the fame
thing ; why therefore fhould we adopt a Greek word in place of
thefe, any more than a French or a German word ? Befides, the
words of our own language are lefs ambiguous. For the word idea
has, for many ages, been ufed by Philofophers as a term of art ; and
in the different fyflems of Philofophers means very different things.

Secondly^ According to the philofophical meaning of the word
idea, it does not fignify that a(ft of the mind which we call thought
or conception, but fome objecfl of thought. Ideas, according to
Mr Locke, (whofe very freqvtent ufe of this word has probably
been the occafion of its being adopted into common language),
" are nothing but the immediate objedls of the mind in thinking."
But of thofe objedls of thought called Ideas, different fedls of Phi-
lofophers have given a very different account. Bruckerus, a
learned German, wrote a whole book giving the hiftory of ideas.

The moft ancient fyftem we have concerning ideas, is that which
is explained in feveral dialogues of Plato, and which many an-
cient, as well as modern writers, have afcribed to Plato as the in-
ventor. But it is certain that Plato had his dodlrine upon this
fubje(5l, as well as the name idea^ from the fchool of Pythagoras.
We have ftill extant a tra(5l of Tim a: us the Locrian, a Pythago-
rean Philofopher, concerning the foul of the world, in which we
find the fubftance of Plato's dodlrine concerning ideas. They
were held to be eternal, uncreated, and immutable forms or mo-
dels, according to which the Deity made every fpecies of things
that exifts, of an eternal matter. Thofe Philofophers held, that
there are three firll principles of all things. F'lrjl^ An eternal
matter, of which all things were made. Secondly^ Eternal and im-
material forms or ideas, according to which they were made ; and,

thirdly^

24

ESSAY I.

CHAP. L thirdly. An efficient cai;fe, the Deity, who made them. The mind
of man, in order to its being fitted for the contemplation of thefe
eternal ideas, muft undergo a certain purification, and be weaned
from fenfible things. The eternal ideas are the only object of
fcience ; becaufe, the objeds of fenfe being in a perpetual flux,
there can be no real knowledge with regard to them.

The Philofophers of the Alexandrian fchool, commonly called /^<?
latter Platotiifts, made fome change upon the fyftera of the ancient
Platonifls with refpedl to the eternal ideas. They held them not
to be a principle diflind from the Deity, but to be the conceptions
of things in the divine underflanding, the natures and efTences of
all things being perfedly known to him from eternity.

It ought to be obferved, that the Pythagoreans and the Platonifts,
whether elder or latter, made the eternal ideas to be objeds of fci-
ence only, and of abflraclTl contemplation, not the objedls of fenfe.
And in this the ancient fyflem of eternal ideas differs from the mo-
dern one of Father Malbbranche. He held in common with
other modern Philofophers, that no external thing is perceived by
us immediately, but only by ideas : But he thought, that the ideas,
by which we perceive an external world, are the ideas of the Deity
himfelf, in whofe mind the ideas of all things pad, prefent, and
future, mufl have been from eternity ; for the Deity being inti-
mately prefent to our minds at all times, may difcover to us as
much of his ideas as he fees proper, according to certain efta-
blifhed laws of nature : And in his ideas, as in a mirror, we per-
ceive whatever we do perceive of the external world.

Thus we have three fyflems, which maintain, that the ideas,
which are the immediate objects of human knowledge, are eternal
and immutable, and exifled before the things which they reprefent.
There are other fyflems, according to which, the ideas, which are
the immediate objedls of all our thoughts, are poflerior to the
things which they reprefent, and derived from chem. We fhall

give

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 25

give fome account of thefe ; but as they have gradually fprung out CHAP. i.
of the ancient Peripatetic fyftem, it is necelTary to begin with fome
account of it.

Aristotle taught, that all the objedls of our thought enter at
firft by the fenfes ; and, fince the fenfe cannot receive external ma-
terial obje<5ls themfelves, it receives their fpecies ; that is, their
images or forms, w^ithout the matter; as wax rece ves the form of
the feal without any of the matter of it. Thefe images or forms,
imprefled upon the fenfes, are czWtdfenftble fpecies, and are the ob-
jedls only of the fenfitive part of the mind : But, by various in-
ternal powers, they are retained, refined, and fpiritualized, fo as to
become obje(5ls of memory and imagination, and, at laft, of pure in-
telledlion. When they are objects of memory and of imagination,
they get the name of phantafms. When, by farther refinement,
and being dripped of their particularities, they become objedls of
Icience ; they are called intelligible fpecies : So that every Imme-
diate objedl, whether of fenfe, of memory, of imagination, or of
reafoning, mud be fome phantafm or fpecies in the mind itfelf.

The followers of Aristotle, efpecially the fchoolmen, made
great additions to this theory, which the Author himfelf mentions
very briefly, and with an appearance of referve. They entered in-
to large difquifitions with regard to the fenfible fpecies, what kind
of things they are ; how they are fent forth by the objedl, and en-
ter by the organs of the fenfes ; how they are preferved and refined
by various agents, called internal fenfes ; concerning the number
and offices of which they had many controverfies. But we fliall
not enter into a detail of thefe matters.

The reafon of giving this brief account of the theory of the Pe-
ripatetics, with regard to the immediate objedls of our thoughts,
is, becaufe the dodlrine of modern Philofophers concerning ideas
is built upon it. Mr I ocke, who ufes this word fo very frequent-
ly, tells us, that he means the fame thing by it, as is commonly

D meant

26 E S S A Y I.

•CHAP. I. meant by /pecks or phantafm. Gassendi, from whom Locke
borrowed more than from any other author, fays the fame. The
words /pedes and phantafm ^ are terms of art in the Peripatetic
fyftem, and the meaning of them is to be learned from it.

The theory of Democritus and Epicurus, on this fubjedt, was
not very unlike to that of the Peripatetics. They lield, that all bo-
dies continually fend forth flender films or fpe<5lres from their fur-
face, of fuch extreme fubtilty, that they eafily penetrate our grofs
bodies, or enter by the organs of fenfe, and ftamp their image up-
on the mind. The fenfible fpecies of Aristotle were mere forms
without matter. The fpedlres of Epicurus were compofed of a
very fubtile matter.

Modern Philofophers, as well as the Peripatetics and Epicureans
of old, have conceived, that external objedls cannot be the imme-
diate objedts of our thought ; that there muft be fome image of
them in the mind itfelf, in which, as in a mirror, they are feen.
And the name idea^ in the philofophical fenfe of it, is given to
thofe internal and immediate objedls of our thoughts. The exter-
nal thing is the remote or mediate obje<5l ; but the idea, or image
of that objedl in the mind, is the immediate obje(5l, without which
we could have no perception, no remembrance, no conception of
the mediate objedl.

When, therefore, in common language, we fpeak of having an
idea of any thing, we mean no more by that expreflion, but think-
ing of it. The vulgar allow, that this expreflion implies a mind
that thinks ; an adl of that mind which we call thinking, and an ob-
jedl about which we think. B\tt, befides thefe three, the Philofo-
pher conceives that there is a fourth, to v/it, the idea^ which is the
immediate objedl. The idea is in the mind itfelf, and can have no
exiflence but in a mind that thinks ; but the remote or rfiediate ob-
jedl may be fomething external, as the fun or moon ; it may be
fomething pad or future ; it may be fomething which never exifted.

This

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 27

This is the philofophical meaning of the word idea ; and we may <^HAP. I.
obferve, that this meaning of that word is built upon a philofophical
opinion : For, if Philofophers had not believed that there are fuch
immediate objedls of all our thoughts in the mind, they would never
have ufed the word idea to exprefs them.

I fhall only add on this article, that, although I may have occa-
fion to ufe the word idea in this philofophical fenfe in explaining
the opinions of others, I fliall have no occafion to ufe it in exprefs-
ing my own, becaufe I believe ideasy taken in this fenfe, to be a mere
fiction of Philofophers. And, in the popular meaning of the word,
there is the lefs occafion to ufe it, becaufe the Englilh words thoughts
notion, apprehenjion, anfwer the purpofe as well as the Greek word
idea; with this advantage, that they are lefs ambiguous. There is,
indeed, a meaning of the word idea, which I think moft agreeable
to its ufe in ancient philofophy, and which I would willingly adopt,
if ufe, the arbiter of language, did permit. But this will come to
be explained afterwards.

1 1. The word imprejfion is ufed by Mr Hume, in fpeaking of the
operations of the mind, almoft as often as the word idea is by Mr
Locke. What the latter calls ideas, the former divides into two
clafles ; one of which he calls impreffions, the other ideas. I fhall
make fome obfervations upon Mr Hume's explication of that word,
and then confider the proper meaning of it in the Englifh language.

cc

C(

" We may divide, (fays Mr Hume, Eflays, vol. 2. page 18.), all
the perceptions of the human mind into two clafles or fpecies,
which are diftinguifhed by their different degrees of force and
vivacity. The lefs lively and forcible are commonly denomina-
" ted thoughts or ideas. The other fpecies want a name in our
" language, and in mofl others ; let us therefore ufe a little free-
" dom, and call them impreffions. By the term imprejions,
" then, I mean all our more lively perceptions, when we hear, or
" fee, or feel, or love, or hate, or defire, or will. Ideas are the

D 2 " lefs

ESSAY I.

CHAP, J. « lefs lively perceptions, of which we are confcious, when we re-
" fiedl on any of thofe feafations or movements above men-
« tioned."

This is the explication Mr Hume hath given in "his EfTays of the
term imprejjions^ when applied to the mind ; and his explication of
it, in his Treatife of human nature, is to the fame purpofe.

Difputes about words belong rather to Grammarians than to
Philofophers ; but Philofophers ought not to efcape cenfure when
they corrupt a language, by ufing words in a way which the puri-
ty of the language will not admit. I find fault with Mr Hume's
phrafeology in the words I have quoted,.

F'trjl^ Becaufe he gives the name of perceptions to every operation
of the mind. Love is a perception, hatred a perception, Defire is
a perception, will is a perception ; and, by the fame rule, a doubt,
a queflion, a command, is a perception. This is an intolerable
abufe of language, which no Philofopher has authority to introduce.

Secondly^ When Mr Hume fays, that we may divide all the percep-
tions of the human mind into two clajfes or /pedes, ivhich are diftingui/Jjed
by their degrees of force and vivacity, the manner of expreffion is loofe
and unphilofophical. To differ in fpecies is one thing; to differ in
degree is another. Things which differ in degree only muft be of
the fame fpecies. It is a maxim of common fenfe, admitted by all
men, that greater and lefs do not make a change of fpecies. The
fame man may differ in the degree of his force and vivacity, in the
morning and at night ; in health and in ficknefs : But this is fo
far from making him a different fpecies, that it does not fo much
as make him a different individual. To fay, therefore, that two
different clafles, or fpecies of perceptions, are diftinguiflied by the
degrees of their force and vivacity, is to confound a difference of
degree with a difference oi fpecies, which every man of under-
(landing knows how to diftinguifli.

Thirdly^

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 29

'thirdly^ We may obfervc, that this Author, having given the gc- CHAP. I.
heral name of perception to all the operations of the mind, and di-
ftinguifhed them into two claflTes or fpecies, which differ only in
degree, of force and vivacity, tells us, that he gives the name of
impreffions to all our more lively perceptions; to wit, when we
hear, or fee, or feel, or love, or hate, or defire, or will. There
is great confufion in this account of the meaning of the word im-
prejfton. When I fee, this is an imprejfion. But why lias not the
Author told us, whether he gives the name of imprelfion to the ob-
jedl feen, or to that adl of my mind by which I fee it ? When I
fee the full moon, the full moon is one thing, my perceiving it is
another thing. Which of thefe two things does he call an impref-
fion ? We are left to guefs this ; nor does all that this Author
writes about impreffions clear this point. Every thing he fays
tends to darken it, and to lead us to think, that the full moon
which I fee, and my feeing it, are not two things, but one and
the fame thing.

The fame obfervation may be applied to every other inflance
the Author gives to illuftrate the meaning of the word imprejjion.
" When we hear, when we feel, when we love, when we hate,
" when we defire, when we will." In all thefe adls of the mind
there muft be an objeB^ which is heard, or felt, or loved, or hated,
or defired, or willed. Thus, for inftance, I love my country.
This, fays Mr Hume, is an imprejfion. But what is the imprejfion?
Is it my country, or is it the affecflion I bear to it? I afk the Phi-
lofopher this queftion ; but I find no anfwer to it. And when I
read all that he has "written on this fubjetSl, I find this word imprejfiou
fometimes ufed to fignify an operation of the mind, fometimes the
objedl of the operation ; but, for the mofl part, it is a vague and in-
determined word that fi^nifies both.

'o'

I know not whether it may be confidered as an apology for fuch
abufe of words, in an Author who undertlood the language fo
well, and ufed it with fo great propriety in writing on other fub-

jedls

3© E S S A Y I.

CHAP. 1. jeifls, that Mr Hume's fyftem, with regard to the mind, requi-
red a language of a different ftrudture from the common ; or, if
expreffed in plain Englifh, would have been too fhocking to the
common fenfe of mankind. To give an inflance or two of this.
If a man receives a prefent on which he puts a high value; if he
fee and handle it, and put it in his pocket, this, fays Mr Hume,
is an impreffion. If the man only dream that he received fuch a
prefent, this is an idea. Wherein lies the difference between this
impreffion and this idea ; between the dream and the reality ? They
are different claffes or fpecies fays Mr Hume : fo far all men will
agree with him. But he adds, that they are diflinguilTied only by
different degrees of force and vivacity. Here he infinuates a tenet
of his own, in. contradidlion to the common fenfe of mankind.
Common fenfe convinces every man, that a lively dream is no
nearer to a reality than a faint one ; and that if a man Ihould
dream that he had all the wealth of Croefus, it would not put one
farthing in his pocket. It is impoffible to fabricate arguments
againft fuch undeniable principles, without confounding the mean-
ing of words.

In like manner, if a man would perfuade me that the moou
which I fee, and my feeing it, are not two things, but one and
the fame thing, he will anfwer his purpofe lefs by arguing this
point in plain Englifli, than by confounding the two under one
name, fuch as that of an impreffion : For fuch is the power of words,
that if we can be brought to the habit of calling two things that
are connedted, by the fame name, we are the more eafily led to be-
lieve them to be one and the fame thing.

Let us next confider the proper meaning of the word imprejjion
in Englifli, that we may fee how far it is fit to exprefs either the
operations of the mind, or their objedls.

When a figure is flamped upon a body by preffure, that figure
is called an impreffion^ as the impreffion of a feal on wax, of

printing-

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 31

printing-types, or of a copperplate, on paper. This feems now to be CHAP. i.
the literal fenfe of the word ; the efted borrowing its name from
the caufe. But by metaphor or analogy, like moft other words,
its meaning is extended, fo as to fignify any change produ-
ced in a body by the operation of fome external caufe. A blow
of the hand makes no impreflion on a flone-wall ; but a battery of
cannon may. The moon raifes a tide in the ocean, but makes no
impreflion on rivers and lakes.

When we fpeak of making an impreflion on the mind, the word
is carried ftill farther from its literal meaning ; ufe, however,
which is the arbiter of language, authorifes this application of it.
As when we fay that admonition and reproof make little impref-
fion on thofe who are confirmed in bad habits. The fame dif-
courfe delivered in one way, makes a flrong impreflion on the
hearers ; delivered in another way, it makes no impreflion at all.

It may be obferved, that, in fuch examples, an impreflion made
on the mind always implies fome change of purpofe or will ; fome
new habit produced, or fome former habit weakened ; fome paffion
raifed or allayed. When fuch changes are produced by perfuafion,
example, or any external caufe, we fay that fuch caufes make an
impreflion upon the mind. But when things are feen or heard, or
apprehended, without producing any paflion or emotion, we fay
that they make no impreflion.

In the mofl: extenflve fenfe, an impreflion is a change produced
in fome pafllve fubje<5l by the operation of an external caufe. If
we fuppofc an adlive being to produce any change in itfelf by its
own adlive power, this is never called an impreflion. It is the adt
or operation of the being itfelf, not an impreflion upon it. From
this it appears, that to give the name of an impreflion to any tffeci
produced in the mind, is to fuppofe that the mind does not a&.
at all in the profludion of that efle6l. If feeing, hearing, deflrlng,
willing, be operations of the mind, they cannot be impreflions. If

they

32

ESSAY I.

CHAP. I. they be impreffions, they cannot be operations of the mind. In
the ftrucflure of all languages, they are confidered as a<5ls or opera-
tions of the mind itfelf, and the names given them imply this. To
call them impreflions, therefore, is to trefpafs againfl the ftrudure,
not of a particular language only, but of all languages.

If the word hnprejfion be an improper word to fignify the opera-
tions of the mind, it is at leafl as improper to fignify their obje6ls ;
for would any man be thought to fpeak with propriety, who fhould
fay that the fun is an impreflion, that the earth and the fea are im-
preflions ?

It is commonly believed, and taken for granted, that every lan-
guage, if it be fufficiently copious in words, is equally fit to exprefs
all opinions, whether they be true or falfe. I apprehend, however,
that there is an exception to this general rule, which deferves our
notice. There are certain common opinions of mankind, upon
which the ftrudure and grammar of all languages are founded.
While thefe opinions are common to all men, there will be a great
fimilarity in all languages that are to be found on the face of the
earth. Such a fimilarity there really is ; for we find in all lan-
guages the fame parts of fpeech, the diflindion of nouns and verbs,
the diftindion of nouns into adjedive and fubflantive, of verbs
into adive and pafllve. In verbs we find like tenfes, moods, per-
fons and numbers. There are general rules of grammar, the fame
in all languages. This fimilarity of flrudure in all languages
fliews an uniformity among men in thofe opinions upon which the
flrudure of language is founded.

If, for inftance, we fliould fuppofe that there was a nation who
believed that the things which we call attributes might exift with-
out a fubjed, there would be in their language no diftindion be-
tween adjedlves and fubflantives, nor would it be a rule with them
that an adjedive has no meaning, unlefs when joined to a fubftan-
tive. If there was any nation who did not diftinguifh between

ading

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 33

adling and being a6led upon, there would in their language be no CHAP. I.
tiiftintflion between aclHiive and pafTive verbs, nor would it be a
rule that the a6tive verb muft have an agent in the nominative cafe;
but tlxat, in the paffive verb, the agent muft be in an oblique cafe.

The ftrudlure of all languages is grounded upon common no-
tions, which Mr Hume's philofophy oppofes, and endeavours to
overturn. This no doubt led him to warp the common language
into a conformity with his principles j but we ought not to imi-
tate him in this, until we are fatisfied that his principles are built
on a folid foundation,

12. Senfation is a name given by Philofophers to an a<5l of
mind, which may be diftinguifhed from all others by this, that it
hath no objedl diftindl from the a€l itfelf. Pain of every kind is
an uneafy fenfation. When I am pained, I cannot fay that the
pain I feel is one thing, and that my feeling it, is another thing.
They are one and the fame thing, and cannot be disjoined, even
in imagination. Pain, when if is not felt, has no exiftence. It
can be neither greater nor lefs in degree or duration, nor any thing
elfe in kind, than it is felt to be. It cannot exift by itfelf, nor in
any fubjedl, but in a fentient being. No quality of an inanimate
infentient being can have the leafl refemblance to it.

What we have faid of pain may be applied to every other fen-
fation. Some of them are agreeable, others uneafy, in various
degrees. Thefe being obje(f^s of delire or averfioh, have fome at-
tention given to them ; but many are indifferent, and fo little at-
tended to, that they have no name in any language.

Mod operations of the mind, that have names in common lan-
guage, are complex in their nature, and made up of various in-
gredients, or more fimple adls ; which, though conjoined in our
conftitution, muft be disjoined by abftradlion, in order to our
having a diftin(5t and fcientific notion of the complex operation.

E In

34

ESSAY I.

CHAP. T. In fuch operations, fenfation for the moft part makes an ingredi-
ent. Thofe who do not attend to the complex nature of fuch
operations, are apt to refolve them into fome one of the fimple
' adls of which they are compounded, overlooking the others : And
from this caufe many difputes have been raifed, and many errors
have been occafioned with regard to the nature of fuch operations.

The perception of external objeds is accompanied with fomc
fenfation correfponding to the obje<5l perceived, and fuch fenfa-
tions have, in many cafes, in all languages, the fame name with
the external objeiH: which they always accompany.- The difficulty
of disjoining by abftradlion, things thus conftantly conjoined in
the courfe of nature, and things, which have one and the fame name
in all languages, has likewife been frequently an occafion of errors'
in the philofophy of the mind. To avoid fuch errors, nothing is
of more importance than to have a diftincH: notion of that fimple
a.&. of the mind which we call fenfation^ and which we have en-
deavoured to defcribe. By this means we fhall find it more eafy
to diftinguifti it from every external objedl chat it accompanies,
and from every other a6l of the mind that may be conjoined with
it. For this purpofe, it is likewife of importance, that the name
oi fenfation fhould, in philofophical writings, be appropriated to
fignify this fimple adl of the mind, without including any tiling
more in its fignification, or being applied to other purpofes.

I fhall add an obfervation concerning the word feeling. This
word has two meanings, iirjl^ It fignifies the perceptions we
have of external objedls, by the fenfe of touch. When we fpeak
of feeling a body to be hard or foft, rough or fmooth, hot or
cold ; to feel thefe things, is to perceive them by touch. They
are external things, and that ad of the mind by which we feel
them, is eafily diflinguifhed from the objeds felt. Secondly, The
word feeling is ufed to fignify the fame thing as fenfation, which
we have jufl now explained ; and, in this fenfe, it has no objed ;•
the feeling and the thing felt are one and the fame.

Perhaps-

EXPLICATION OF WORDS. 35

Perhaps betwixt feeling, taken in this lafl fenfe, and fenfatlon, CHAP. I.
there may be this fmall difference, that fenfation is mod common-
ly ufed to fignify thofe feeUngs which we have by our external
fenfes and bodily appetites, and all our bodily pains and pleafures.
But there are feelings of a nobler nature accompanying our affec-.
tions, our moral judgments, and our determinations in matters of
tafte, to which the word fenfation is lefs properly applied.

I have premifed thefe obfervations on the meaning of certain
words that frequently occur in treating of this fubje(5l, for two
reafons, frji. That I may be the better underftood when I ufe
them ; and fecondlyy That thofe who would make any progrefs in
this branch of fcience, may accuftom themfelves to attend very
carefully to the meaning of words that are ufed in it. They may
be affured of this, that the ambiguity of words, and the vague and
improper application of them, have thrown more darknefs upon
this fubjed:, than the fubtilty and intricacy of things.

When we ufe common words, we ought to ufe them in the
fenfe in which they are moft commonly ufed by the beft and pureft:
■writers in the language ; and, when we have occafion to enlarge
or reftridl the meaning of a common word, or give it more preci>-
fion than it has in common language, the reader ought to have
warning of this, otherwife we fliall impofe upon ourfelves and
upon him.

A very refpe<flable writer has given a good example of this kind^
by explaining in an Appendix to his Elements of Criticifm^ the
terms he has occafion to ufe. In that Appendix, moft of the wordj
are explained on which I have been making obfervations. And
the explication I have given, I think, agrees, for the moft part,
with his.

Other words that need explication ftiall be explained as they
occur.

E2 CHAP.

ESSAY I.

C H A P. II.

Frincipks taken for granted,

AS there are words common to Phllofophers and to the vulgar,
which need no explication ; fo there are principles common
to both, which need no proof, and which do not admit of dire(5l

proof.

One who applies to any branch of fcience miift be come to years
of underflanding, and confequently muft have exercifed his rea-
fon, and the other powers of his mind, in various ways. He mufl
have formed various opinions and principles by which he condudls
himfelf in the affairs of life. Of thofe principles, fome are com-
mon to all men, being evident in themfelves, and fo neceffary in
the condudl of life, that a man cannot live and a<5l according to the
rules of common prudence without them.

All men that have common underflanding agree in fuch prin-
ciples, and confider a man as lunatic or deftitute of common fenfe,
who denies, or calls them in queftion. Thus, if any man were
found of fo (Irange a turn as not to believe his own eyes ; to put
no truft in his fenfes, nor have the lead regard to their teftimony;
would any man think it worth while to reafon gravely with fuch
a perfon, and, by argument, to convince him of his error ? Surely
no wife man would. For before men can reafon together, they
muft agree in firft principles ; and it is impoffible to reafon with
a man who has no principles in common with you.

There are, therefore, common principles, which are the founda-
tion of all reafoning, and of all fcience. Such common princi'^
pies feldom admit of dire<5l proof, nor do they need it. Men
need not to be taught them ; for they are fuch as all men of

common

PRINCIPLES TAKEN FOR GRANTED. 37

common underftanding know; or fuch, at leaft, as they give a CH'AP. if.
ready affent to, as foon as they are propofed and underftood.

Such principles, when we have occaGon to ufe them in fcience,
are called axioms. And, although it be not abfolutely neceflary,
yet it may be of great ufe, to point out the principles or axioms on
which a fcience is grounded. .

Thus, mathematicians, before they prove any of the propolitions
of mathematics, lay down certain axioms, or common principles,
■upon which they build their reafbnings. And although thofe
axioms be truths which every man knew before; fuch as. That the
whole is greater than a part. That equal quantities added to equ^l
quantities, make equal fums ; yet, when we fee nothing affumed
in the proof of mathematical propolitions, but fuch felf-evidenc
axioms, the propolitions appear more certain, and leave no room
for doubt or difpute.

In all other fciences, as well as in mathematics, it will be found,
that there are a few common principles, upon which all the rea-
fonings in that fcience are grounded, and into which they may be
relblved. If thefe were pointed out and confidered, we Ihould be
better able to judge what ftrefs may be laid upon the conclufions in
that fcience. If the principles be certain, the conclufions juftly drawn
from them muft be certain. If the principles be only probable,
the conclufions can only be probable. If the principles be falfe,
dubious, or obfcure, the fuperftrudlure that is built upon them
muft partake of the weaknefs of the foundation.

Sir Isaac Newton, the greatefl of Natural Phllofophers, has
given an example well worthy of imitation, by laying down the
common principles or axioms, on which the reafonings in natural
philofophy are built. Before this was done, the reafonings of Phl-
lofophers, in that fcience, were as vague and uncertain as they are
in mod others. Nothing was fixed ; all was difpute and contro-

verfy :

38 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. II. verfy : But, by this happy expedient, a folid foundation is laid in
that fcience, and a noble fuperftrudlure is raifed upon it, about
which there is now no more difpute or controverfy among men of
knowledge, than there is about the conclufions of mathematics.

It may, however, be obferved, that the firft principles of natu-
ral philofophy are of a quite different nature from mathematical
axioms : They have not the fame kind of evidence, nor are they
neceffary truths, as mathematical axioms are : They are fuch as
thefe : That fimilar effecis proceed from the fame or fimilar caufes :
That we ought to admit of no other caufes of natural eire(fls, but
fuch as are true, and fufficient to account for the efFedls. Thefe
are principles, which, though they have not the fam' kind of evi-
dence that mathematical axioms have ; yet have fuch evidence, that
every man of common underftanding readily aflents to them, and
finds it abfolutely neceffary to condudl his adlions and opinions by
them, in the ordinary affairs of life.

Though it has not been ufual, yet, I conceive it may be ufeful,
to point out fome of thofe things which I fliall take for granted, as
firft principles in treating of the mind and its faculties. There is
the more occafion for this ; becaufe very ingenious men, fuch as
Des Cartes, Malebranche, Arnauld, Locke, and many
others, have loft much labour, by not diftinguifhing things which
require proof, from things which, though they may admit of il-
luftration, yet being felf-evident, do not admit of proof. When
men attempt to deduce fuch felf-evident principles from others
more evident, they always fall into inconclufive reafoning : And
the confequence of this has been, that others, fuch as Berkeley
and Hume, finding the arguments brought to prove fuch firft prin-
:Ciples to be weak and inconclufive, have been tempted firft to doubt
of them, and afterwards to deny them.

It is fo irkfome to reafon with thofe who deny firft principles,
that wife men commonly decline it. Yet it is not impoffible, that

what

PRINCIPLES TAKEN FOR GRANTED. 39

what is only a vulgar prejudice may be miflaken for a firfl: prin- CHAP II.
ciple. Nor is it impoflible, that what is really a firfl: principle may,
by the enchantment of words, have fuch a mift thrown about it,
as to hide its evidence, and to make a man of candour doubt of it.
Such cafes happen inore frequently perhaps in this fcience than in
any other; but they are not altogether without remedy. There
are ways by which the evidence of firft principles may be made
more apparent when they are brought into difpute j but they re-
quire to be handled in a way peculiar to themfelves. Their evi-
dence is not demonftrative, but intuitive. They require not proofs
but to be placed in a proper point of view. This will be fliown
more fully in its proper place, and applied to thofe very principles
which we now afTume. In the mean time, when they are propo-
fed as firft principles, the reader is put on his guard, and warned-
to confider whether they have a juft claim to that chara(3ler.

1. F'lrjl^ then, I fhall take it for granted, that I thinks that I re^
member^ that I reafoHy and, in general, that I really perform all
thofe operations of mind of which I am confcious^

The operations of our minds are attended with confcioufnefs ;
ajid this confcioufnefs is the evidence, the only evidence which we
have or can have of their exiftence. If a man fliould take it into
his head to think or to fay that his confcioufnefs may deceive him^
and to require proof that it cannot, I know of no proof that can
be given him ; he muft be left to himfelf as a man that denies firft
principles, without which there can be no reafoning. Every man
finds himfelf under a necefllty of believing what confcioufnefs.
teftifies, and every thing that hath this teftimony is to be taken as a
firft principle.

2. As by confcioufnefs we know certainly the exiftence of our
prefent thoughts and paflions ; fo we know the part by remembrance.
And when they are recaat, and the remembrance of them frefti„

the.

40

ESSAY I,

CHAP. II. ji^g knowledge of them, from fuch diflinct remembrance, is, in
its certainty and evidence, next to that of confcioufnefs.

3. But it is to be obferved, that we are confcious of many things
to which we give little or 110 attention. We can hardly attend to
feveral things at the fame time ; and our attention is commonly
employed about that which is the objed of our thought, and rarely
about the thought itfelf. Thus, when a man is angry, his attention
is turned to the injury done him, or the injurious perfon ; and he
gives very little attention to the paffion of anger, although he is
confcious of it. It is in our power, however, when we come to
the years of underftanding, to give attention to our own thoughts
and paffions, and the various operations of our minds. And when
we make thefe the objeds of our attention, either while they are
prefent, or when they are recent and frefli in our memory, thia
:a6i of the mind is called refleBion.

We take it for granted, therefore, that, by attentive relle<5lion,
a man may have a clear and certain knowledge of the operations
of his own mind; a knowledge no lefs clear and certain, than that
which he has of an external objedl when it is fet before his eyes.

This reflection is a kind of intuition, it gives a like conviction
with regard to internal obje(5ls, or things in the mind, as the fa-
culty of feeing gives with regard to objecfls of fight. A man mufl,
therefore, be convinced beyond poffibility of doubt, of every thing
•v*ith regard to the operations of his own mind, which he clearly
and diftincflly difcerns by attentive refleclion.

4. I take it for granted that all the thoughts I am confcious of,
or remember, are the thoughts of one and the fame thinking
principle, which I call niyfclf^ or my inhtd. Every man has an
immediate and irrefiftible convi(5lion, not only of his prefent
exiftence, but of his continued exiftence and identity, as far back
as he can remember. If any man fhould think fit to demand

a

PRINCIPLES TAKEN FOR GRANTED. 41

a proof that the thoughts he is fucceflively confcious of belong to CHAP. ir.
one and the fame thinking principle. If he fliould demand a proof
that he is the fame perfon to-day as he was yefterday, or a year
ago, I know no proof that can be given him : He muft be left to
himfelf, either as a man that is lunatic, or as one who denies firfl:
principles, and is not to be reafoned with.

Every man of a found mind finds himfelf under a neceffity of
believing his own identity, and continued exiftence. The con-
vidlion of this is immediate and irrefiftible ; and if he fliould lofe
this convi<5tion, it would be a certain proof of infanity, which is
not to be remedied by reafoning.

5. I take it for granted that there are fome things which cannot
exift by themfelves, but muft be in fomething elfe to which they
belong, as qualities or attributes.

Thus motion cannot exift but in fomething that is moved. And
to fuppofe that there can be motion while every thing is at reft, is
a grofs and palpable abfurdity. In like manner, hardnefs and foft-
nefs, fweetnefs and bitternefs, are things which cannot exift by
themfelves ; they are qualities of fomething which is hard or foft,
fweet or bitter : That thing, whatever it be, of which they are
qualities, is called their fubjeft, and fuch qualities neceflarily fup-
pofe a fubjedl.

Things which may exift by themfelves, and do not neceflarily
fuppofe the exiftence of any thing elfe, are called fubftances ; and
with relation to the qualities or attributes that belong to them,
they are called the fubjeds of fuch qualities or attributes.

All the things which we immediately perceive by our fenfes,
and all the things we are confcious of, are things which muft be
in fomething elfe as their fubjedl. Thus by my fenfes, I perceive
figure, colour, hardnefs, foftnefs, motion, refiftance, and fuch

F like

42

ESSAY I.

CHAP. II. like things. But thefe are qualities, and muft neceflarily be in
fomething that is figured, coloured, hard or foft, that moves, or
refills. It is not to thefe qualities, but to that which is the fiibjeft
of them, that we give the name of body. If any man {hould think
fit to deny that thefe things are qualities, or that they require any
fubje<5l, I leave him to enjoy his opinion as a man who denies firft
principles, and is not fit to be rcafoncd with. If he has common
vinderftanding, he will find that he cannot converfe half an hour
without faying things which imply the contraiy of what he pro-
feffes to believe.

In like manner, the things I am confcious of, fuch as thought,
reafoning, defire, neceflarily fuppofe fomething that thinks, that
reafons, that defires. We do not give the name of mind to thought,
reafon, or defire ; but to that being which thinks, which reafons,
and which defires.

That every a.&. or operation, therefore, fuppofes an agent, that
every quality fuppofes a fubjedl, are things which I do not attempt
to prove, but take for granted. Every man of common under-
ftanding difcerns this immediately, and cannot entertain the lead
doubt of it. In all languages we find certain words which, by
Grammarians, are called adjedlives. Such words denote atti'ibutes,
and every adjedlive muft have a fubftantive to which it belongs j
that is, every attribute muft have a fubje^l. In all languages we
find a<5live verbs which denote fome adlion or operation ; and it
is a fundamental rule in the grammar of all languages, that fuch
a verb fuppofes a perfon ; that is, in other words, that every a(flion
muft have an agent. "We take it, therefore, as a firft principle,
that goodnefs, wifdom, and virtue, can only be in fome being that
is good, vpife, and virtuous ; that thinking fuppofes a being that
thinks ; and that every operation we are confcious of fuppofes an
agent that operates, which we call mind.

6. I take it for granted that, in moft operations of the mind, there

muft

PRINCIPLES TAKEN FOR GRANTED. 43

muft be an objedl diflincfl from the operation Itfelf. I cannot fee, CHAP. II.
without feeing fomething. To fee withouc having any obje(5l of
fight is abfurd. I cannot remember, without remembering fome-
thing. The thing remembered is paft, while the remembrance of
it is prefent ; and therefore the operation and the objecfl of it muft
be diftindl things. The operations of our minds are denoted, in all
languages, by adtive tranfitive verbs, which, from their conftruc-
tion in grammar, require not only a perfon or agent, but likewife
an objedl of the operation. Thus the verb know, denotes an ope-
ration of mind. From the general ftru(5lure of language, this verb
requires, a perfon; I know, you know, or he knows: But it re-
quires no lefs a noun in the accufative cafe, denoting the thing
known ; for he that knows, muft know fomething ; and to know,
without having any objedl of knowledge, is an abfurdity too grofs
to admit of reafoning.

7. We ought likewife to take for granted, as firft principles,
things wherein we find an univerfal agreement, among the learned
and unlearned, in the different nations and ages of the world.
A confent of ages and nations, of the learned and vulgar, ought,
at lead, to have great authority, unlefs we can fliow fome preju-
dice, as univerfal as that confent is, which might be the caufe of
h. Truth is one, but error is infinite. There are many truths fo
obvious to the human faculties, that it may be expedled that men
fhould univerfally agree in them. And this is adlually found to be
tlie cafe with regard to many truths, againfl which we find no
difTent, unlefs perhaps that of a few fceptical Philofophers, who
may juftly be fufpe<5led, in fuch cafes, to differ from the reft of
mankind, through pride, obftinacy, or fome favourite palTion.
"Where there is fuch univerfal confent in things not deep nor in-
tricate, but which lie, as it were, on the fur face, there is the
greateft prefumption that can be, that it is the natural refujt of the
human faculties ; and it muft have great authority with every fober

F 2 mind

44

ESSAY I.

CHAP. II, mind that loves truth. Major enim pars eo fere defer ri folet quo ana-
tura deducilur. Cic. de Off. i. 41.

Perhaps it may be thought, that it is impoflible to coUedl the
opinions of all men upon any point whatfoever, and, therefore, that
this maxim can be of no ufe. But there are many cafes wherein
it is otherwife. Who can doubt, for inftance, whether mankind
have, in all ages, believed the exiftence of a material world, and
that thofe things which they fee and handle are real, and not mere
illufions and apparitions ? Who can doubt, whether mankind have
univerfally believed, that every thing that begins to exift, and every
change that happens in nature, muft have a caufe? Who can doubt,
whether mankind have been univerfally perfuaded that there is a
right and a wrong in human condudl ? Some things which, in cer-
tain circumftances, they ought to do, and other things which they
ought not to do ? The univerfality of thefe opinions, and of many
fuch that might be named, is fufficiently evident, from the whole
tenor of mens condudl, as far as our acquaintance reaches, and
from the records of hiftory, in all ages and nations, that are tranf^
mitted to us.

There are other opinions that appear to be univerfal, from what
is common in the ftrudlure of all languages, ancient and modern,
polilhed and barbarous. Language is the exprefs image and
pidlure of human thoughts ; and, from the pidlure, we may often
draw very certain conclufions with regard to the original. We
find in all languages the fame parts of fpeech, nouns fubftantive
and adjcdlive, verbs adlive and paffive, varied according to the
tenfes of part, prefent, and future ; we find adverbs, prepofitions,
and conjundions. There are general rules of fyntax common to
all languages. This uniformity in the ftru6lure of languagej
Ihows a certain degree of uniformity in thofe notions upon which
the ftrutSlure of language is grounded.

We find, in the ftrudlure of all languages, the diftindion of

ading

PRINCIPLES TAKEN FOR GRANTED. 45

acftlng and being adted upon, the dlftindlion of adlion and agent, CHAP. II.

of quality and fubjcdl, and many others of the like kind ; which

fliows, that thefe diftintflions are founded in the univerfal fenfe of

mankind. We fhall have frequent occafion to argue from the fenfe

of mankind exprefled in the (Irudlure of language ; and therefore

it was proper here to take notice of the force of arguments drawn

from this topic.

8. I need hardly fay, that I fhall alfo take for granted fuch fadls
as are attefted to the conviction of all fober and reafonable men,
either by our fenfes, by memory, or by human teflimony. Al-
though fome writers on this fubjecfl have difputed the authority
of the fenfes, of memory, and of every human faculty ; yet we
find, that fuch perfons, in the condudl of life, in purfuing their
ends, or in avoiding dangers, pay the fame regard to the autho-
rity of their fenfes, and other faculties, as the refl of mankind.
By this they give us jufl ground to doubt of their candour in their
profeflions of fcepticifm.

This, indeed, has always been the fate of the few that have pro-
fefTed fcepticifm, that, when they have done what they can to dif^
credit their fenfes, they find themfelves, after all, under a necef^
fity of trufting to them. Mr Hume has been fb candid as to ac-
knowledge this ; and it is no lefs true of thofe who have not fhown
the fame candour : For I never heard that any fceptic run his head
againft a pofl, or flept into a kermel, becaufe he did not believe
his eyes.

Upon the whole, I acknowledge that we ought to be cauti-
ous, that we do not adopt opinions as firfl: principles, yvhich are
not entitled to that charadler. But there is furely the leaft dan-
ger of mens being impofed upon in this way, when fuch prin-
ciples openly lay claim to the charadler, and are thereby fairly ex-
pofed to the examination of thofe who may difpute their autho-
rity. We do not pretend, that thofe things that are laid down as

firft principles may not be examined, and that we ought not to

have

4^ E S S A Y I.

CHAP. II. have our ears open to what maybe pleaded againft their being ad-
mitted as fuch. Let us deal with them, as an upright judge does
with a witnefs who has a fair charadter. He pays a regard to the
tellimony of fuch a witnefs, while his characfler is unimpeached.
But if it can be fhown that he is fuborned, or that he is influenced
by malice or partial favour, his teftimony lofes all its credit, and
is juftly rejedled.

CHAP. III.
Of Hypotbefes.

EVERY branch of human knowledge hath its proper prin-
ciples, its proper foundation and method of reafoning ; and,
if we endeavour to build it upon any other foundation, it will ne-
ver ftand firm and flable. Thus the hiftorian builds upon tefli-
mony, and rarely indulges conjedlure. The antiquarian mixes
conjedlure with teftimony ; and the former often makes the larger
ingredient. The mathematician pays not the leaft regard either to
teftimony or conje<flure, but deduces every thing, by demonftrative
reafoning, from his definitions and axioms. Indeed, whatever is
built upon conjecture, is improperly called fcience ; for conjedure
may beget opinion, but cannot produce knowledge. Natural phi-
lofophy muft be built upon the phaenomena of the material fyftem,
difcovered by obfervation and experiment.

"When men firft began to philofophife, that is, to carry their
thoughts beyond the obje<fls of fenfe, and to enquire into the
caufes of things, and the fecret operations of nature, it was very
natural for them to indulge conjecflure ; nor was it to be expe(5led,
that, in many ages, they fhould difcover the proper and fcientific
way of proceeding in philofophical difquifitions. Accordingly we
find, that the moft ancient fyftems in every branch of philofophy
were nothing but the conje(5lures of men famous for their wifdom,
whofe fame gave authority to their opinions. Thus, in early ages»

wife

OFHYPOTHESES. 47

wife men conjedlured, that this earth is a vaft plain, furrounded CHAP. III.^
on all hands by a boundlefs ocean. That from this ocean, the fun,
moon, and (lars, emerge at their rifing, and plunge into it again
at their fetting.

With regard to the mind, men in their rudeft ftate are apt to conjec-
ture, that the principle of life in a man is his breath ; becaufe the
moft obvious diftindlion between a living and a dead man is, that
the one breathes, and the other does not. To this it is owing, that,
in ancient languages, the word which denotes the foul, is that
which properly fignifies breath or air.

As men advance in knowledge, their firft conjedlures appear filly
and childiCh, and give place to others, which tally better with later
obfervations and difcoveries. Thus one fyftem of philofophy fuc-
ceeds another, without any claim to fuperior merit ; but this, that
it is a more ingenious fyftem of conjedkures, and accounts better
for common appearances.

To omit many ancient fyftems of this kind, Des Cartes, about
the middle of the laft century, diffatisfied with the materia prima,
xh.t fubjiantial forms, and the occult qualities of the Peripatetics, con-
jedlured boldly, that the heavenly bodies of our fyftem are carried
round by a vortex or whirlpool of fubtile matter, juft as ftraws
and chaff are carried round in a tub of water. He conjectured,
that the foul is feated in a fmall gland in the brain, called the pineal
gland : That there, as in her chamber of prefence, fhe receives in-
telligence of every thing that affeds the fenfes, by means of a
fubtile fluid contained in the nerves, called the animal fpirits ; and
that flie difpatches thefe animal fpirits, as her meftengers, to put
in motion the feveral mufcles of the body, as there is occafion.
By fuch conjedlures as thefe, Des Cartes could account for every
phgenomenon in nature, in fiich a plaufible manner, as gave fatisfac-
tion to a great part of the learned world for more than half a
century.

Such

ESSAY I.

CHAP. III. Such conjedures in philofophical matters have commonly got
the name of hypothefes^ or theories. And the invention of a hypo-
thefis, founded on fome flight probabilities, which accounts for
many appearances of nature, has been confidered as the highefl at-
tainment of a Philofopher. If the hypothefis hangs vpell together,
is embellifhed by a lively imagination, and ferves to account for
common appearances ; it is confidered by many as having all the
qualities that (hould recommend it to our belief; and all that
ought to be required in a philofophical fyftem.

There is fuch pronenefs in men of genius to invent hypothefes,
and in others to acquiefce in them, as the utmoft which the human
faculties, can attain in philofophy, that it is of the laft confequence
to the progrefs of real knowledge, that men fliould have a clear and
diftindl underftanding of the nature of hypothefes in philofophy,
and of the regard that is due to them.

Although fome conjedlures may have a confiderable degree of
probability, yet it is evidently in the nature of conjedure to be
uncertain. In every cafe the aflent ought to be proportioned to the
evidence ; for to believe firmly, what has but a fmall degree of
probability, is a manifeft abufe of our underftanding. Now,
though we may, in many cafes, form very probable conjedlures
concerning the works of men, every conjecflure we can form with
regard to the works of God, has as little probability as the con-
je(5lures of a child with regard to the works of a man.

The wifdom of God exceeds that of the wifeft man, more than
his wifdom exceeds that of a child. If a child were to conjedure
how an army is to be formed in the day of battle ; how a city is
to be fortified, or a ftate governed ; what chance has he to guefs
right? As little chance has the wifeft man when he pretends to
conje<flure how the planets move in their courfes, how the fea ebbs
and flows, and how our minds a«5l upon our bodies.

If

OF HYPOTHESES. 49

If a thoufand of the greatefl wits that ever the world produced, CHaf. ill,
were, without any previous knowledge in anatomy, to fit down and
contrive how, and by what internal organs, the various fun(5tions
of the human body are carried on ; how the blood is made
to circulate, and the limbs to move, they would not in a thoufand
years hit upon any thing like the truth.

Of all the difcoveries that have been made concerning the in-
ward ftrudlure of the human body, never one was made by con-
jedlure. Accurate obfervations of Anatoraifts have brought to light
innumerable artifices of nature in the contrivance of this machine
of the human body, which we cannot but admire as excellently
adapted to their feveral purpofes. But the moft fagacious phyfio-
logift never dreamed of them till they were difcovered. On the
other hand, innumerable conjectures, formed in different ages,
with regard to the ftrudlure of the body, have been confuted by
obfervation, and none ever confirmed.

What we have faid of the internal ftrudlure of the human bo-
•dy, may be faid, with juftice, of every other part of the works of
God, wherein any real difcovery has been made. Such difcove-
ries have always been made by patient obfervation, by accurate
experiments, or by conclufions drawn by ftridl reafoning from ob- '

fervations and experiments ; and fuch difcoveries have always tend-
ed to refute, but not to confirm, the theories and hypothefes which
ingenious men had invented.

As this is a fadl confirmed by the hiftory of philofophy in all
paft ages, it ought to have taught men, long ago, to treat with juft
contempt hypothefes in every branch of philofophy, and to de-
fpair of ever advancing real knowledge in that way. The Indian
Philofopher, being at a lofs to know how the earth was fupported,
invented the hypothefis of a huge elephant ; and this elephant he
fuppofed to ftand upon the back of a huge tortoife. This hypo-
thefis, however ridiculous it appears to us, might feem very rea-

G fonable

JO

ESSAY I.

CHAP. III. fonable to other Indians, who knew no more than the inventor of
it ; and the fame will be the fate of all hyppthefes invented hy-
men to account for the works of God : They may have a decent
and plaufible appearance to thofe who are not more knowing than
the inventor ; but, when men come to be more enlightened, they
will always appear ridiculous and childifli.

This has been the cafe with regard to hypothefes that have been
revered by the mofl enlightened part of mankind for hundreds of
years ; and it will always be die cafe to the end of the world. For,
until the wiidom of men bear fome proportion to the wifdom of
God, their attempts to find out the ftrudlure of his works, by the
force of their wit and genius, will be vain.

The fined produdlions of human art are immenfely (hort of the
meaneft wprks of nature. The niceft artifl cannot make a feather, •
or the leaf of a tree. Human workmanfliip will never bear a com-
parifon with divine. Conjeilures and hypothefes are the inven-
tion and the workmanfhip of men, and mull bear proportion to
the capacity and Ikill of the inventor ; and therefore will always
be very unlike to the works of God, which it is the bufinefs of
philolbphy to difcover.

The world has been fo long befooled by hypothefes in all parts
of philofophy, that it is of the utmoftconfequence to every man,
who would make any progrefs in real knowledge, to treat them
with juft contempt, as the reveries of vain and fanciful men,
whofe pride makes them conceive themfelves able to unfold the
myfteries of nature by the force of their genius. A learned man in
an epiflle toDES Cartes has the following obfervation, which very
much deferved the attention of that Philofopher, and of all that
come after him. " When men, fitting in their clofet, and con-
" fulting only their books, attempt difqnifitions into nature, they
" may indeed tell how they would have made the world, if God
" had given them that in commiffion; tliat is, they may defcribe

" chimeras,

O F H Y P O T H E S E S. jt

" chimerats, which correfpond with the IriibecilUty of their own CHAP. Iir.
" minds, no lefs than; the admirable beauty of the Uhiverfe cor- ' '^ '
•' refponds with the infinite perfedion of its Creator ; but without
** an underflariding truly divine, they can never form fuch ari
^* idea to themfelves as the Deity had in creating things."

Let us, therefore, lay down this as a fundamental principle in
our enquiries into the (Irudure of the mind, and its operations,
that no regard is due to the conjedures or hypothefes of Philofo-
phers, however ancient, however generally received. Let us ac-
cuftom ourfelves to try every opinion by the touchftone of fadl
and experience. What can fairly be deduced from fads duly ob-
ferved, or fufficiently attefted, is genuine and pure ; it is the voice
of God, and no fiiflion of human imagination.

The firft rule of philofophifiri'g laid down by the great Newton,
is this ; Caufas rerum naiurdtium^ non phires ddmtti debere^ qitam qiiig
et vera ftnt^ et earum phanommh expUcandis fiifficidnt. " No more
" caufes, nor any other caufes of natural efFedls ought to be ad-
*' mitted, but fuch as are both true, and are fufficLent for ex'plain-
" ing their appearances." This is a golden rule ; it is thie true
and proper teft, by which what is found and folid in philofophy
may be diftinguifhed from what is hollow and vain.

If a Philofopher, therefore, pretends to ftiow us the canfe of any
natural effedl, whether relating to matter or to mind ; let us firft
confider whether there is fufficient evidence that the caufe he
affigns does really exift. If there is not, rejedl it with difdain as
a fiflion which ought to have no place in genuine philofophy. If
the caufe affigned really exifts, confider, in the next place, whe-
ther the effecH; it is brought to explain neceffarily follows from it.
Unlefs it has thefe two conditions, it is good for nothing.

When Newton had fhown the admirable efFe<fls of gravitation
in our planetary fyftem, he muft have felt a flrong defire to know

„ G 2 its

52

ESSAY I.

CHAP. III. its caufe. He could have invented a hypothefis for this purpofe,
as many had done before him. But his philofophy was of ano-
ther complexion. Let us hear what he fays : Rationem harum gra-
vitatis propr'ietatu7n ex pbcenomenis non potui deducere^ et hypotbefes non
Jingo, i^u'tcquid enim ex phanomenis non deducitur hypothefis vocanda
eft. Et hypotbefes, feu metapbyfica^ feu pby/ica, feu qualttatum occult a-
rwn, feu mechanicay in philofopbia expcrimentali locum non babent.

CHAP. IV.

Of Analogy.

I

T is natural to men to judge of things lefs known, by fome fimi-
litude they obferve, or think they obferve, between them and
things more familiar or better known. In many cafes, we have
no better way of judging. And where the things compared have
really a great fimilitude in their nature, when there is reafon to
think that they are fubjedl to the fame laws, there may be a con-
fid erable degree of probability in conclufions drawn from ana-
logy.

Thus, we may obferve a very great fimilitude between this earth
which we inhabit, and the other planets, Saturn, Jupiter, Mars,
Venus, and Mercury. They all revolve round the fun, as the
earth does, although at different diflances, and in different pe-
riods. They borrow all their light from the fun, as the earth does.
Several of them are known to revolve round their axis like the
earth, and, by that means, mufl: have a like fucceffion of day and
night. Some of them have moons, that ferve to give them light
in the ab fence of the fun, as our moon does to us. They are all,
in their motions, fubjedl to the fame law of gravitation, as the
earth is. From all this fimilitude, it is not unreafonable to think,
that thofe planets may, like our earth, be the habitation of various

orders

OFANALOGY. 53

orders of living creatures. There is foine probability in this con- CHAP. iv.
clufion from analogy.

In medicine, Phyficians nxufl, for the mod part, be direcTted in
their prefcriptions by analogy. The conftitution of one human
body is fo like to that of another, that it is reafonable to think,
that what is the caufe of health or ficknefs to one, may have the
fame effefl upon another. And this generally is found true,
though not without fome exceptions.

In politics, we reafon, for the mofl part, from analogy. The
conftitution of human nature is fo fimilar in different focieties or
commonwealths, that the caufes of peace and war, of tranquillity
and fedition, of riches and poverty, of improvement and degene-
racy, are much the fame in all. '

Analogical reafoning, therefore, is not, in all cafes, to be rejedled.
It may afford a greater or a lefs degree of probability, according
as the things compared are more or lefs fimilar in their nature.
But it ought to be obferved, that, as this kind of reafoning can
afford only probable evidence at beft ; fo unlefs great caution be
ufed, we are apt to be led into error by it. For men are natural-
ly difpofed to conceive a greater fimilitude in things than there
really is.

To give an inftance of this : Anatomifts, in ancient ages, feldom
differed human bodies ; but very often the bodies of thofe qua-
drupeds, whofe internal (trudlure was thought to approach neareft to
that of the human body. Modern Anatomifts have difcovered many
miftakes the ancients were led into, by their conceiving a greater
fimilitude between the ftru(flure of men and of fome beafts than there
is in reality. By this, and many other inftances that might be given,
it appears, that conclufions built on analogy ftand on a flippery
foundation ; and that we ought never to reft upon evidence of this

kind, when we can have mpre diredl evidence.

I

54 E S S A Y I.

•V"—

^ !!' ■ ^' ^ know no Author who has made a more jufl and a more happy
ufeof this mode of reafoning, than Bifliop Butler, in his Ana-
logy of ReHgion, Natural and Revealed, to the Conftitution and
Ck)urfe of Nature. In that excellent Work, the Author does not
ground any of the truths of religion upon analogy, as their pro-
per evidence. He only makes ufe of analogy to artfwer objedions
againft them. When objedions are made againft the truths of re-
ligion, which may be made with equal flrength againft what we
know to be true in the courfe of nature, fuch objedlions can have no
weight.

Analogical reafoning, therefore, may be of excellent ufe in an-
fwering objedlions againft truths which have other evidence. It
may likewife give a greater or a lefs degree of probability in cafes
where we can find no other evidence. But all arguments, drawA
from analogy, are ftill the weaker, the greater difparity there is be-
tween the things compared ; and therefore muft be weakeft of all
when we compare body with mind, becaufe there are no two
things in nature more unlike.

There is no fubjedl in which men have always been fo prone to
form their notions by analogies of this kind, as in what relates to
the mind. We form an early acquaintance with material things
by means of our fenfes, and are bred up in a conftant familiarity
with them. Hence we are apt to meafure all things by them ; and
to afcribe to things moft remote from matter, the qualities that be-
long to material things. It is for this reafon, that mankind have,
in all ages, been fo prone to conceive the mind itfelf to be fome
fubtile kind of matter : That they have been difpofed to afcribe
human figure, and human organs, not only to angels, but even to
the Deity. Though we are confcious of the operations of our own
minds when they are exerted, and are capable of attending to them,
fo as to form a diftind notion of them ; this is fo difficult a work
to men, whofe attention is conftantly folicited by external obje<5ls,
that we give them names from things that arc familiar, and which

are

O F A N A L O G Y. 55

are conceived to have fome fimilitude to them ; and the notions we CHAP. iv.
form of them are no lefs analogical than the names we give them.
Almoft all the vpords, by vrhich we exprefs the operations of the
mind, are borrowed from material objects. To underftand, to con-
ceive, to imagine, to comprehend, to deliberate, to infer, and ma-
ny others, are words of this kind ; fo that the very language of
mankind, with regard to the operations of our minds, is analogi-
cal. Becaufe bodies are affefted only by contadl and preflure, we
are apt to conceive, that what is an immediate obje<5l of thought, '
and affedls the mind, mufl be in contacfl with it, and make fome
impreffion upon it. When we imagine any thing, the very word
leads us to think that there mufl be fome image in the mind of the
thing conceived. It is evident, that thefe notions are drawn from
fome fimilitude conceived between body and mind, and between
the properties of body and the operations of mind.

To illuflrate more fully that analogical reafoning from a fuppo-' ■
fed fimilitude of mind to body, which I conceive to be the mofl'
fruitful fource of error with regard to the operations of our minds,
I Ihall give an inflance of it.

When a man is urged by contrary motives, thofe on one hand
inciting him to do fome adlion, thofe on the other to forbear it ;
he deliberates about it, and at lafl refolves to do it, or not to do it.
The contrary motives are here compared to the weights in the op-
pofite fcale& of a balance ; and there is not perhaps any inftance
that can be named of a more ftriking analogy between body and
mind. Hence the phrafes of weighing motives, of deliberating
upon adtions, are common to all languages.

From this analogy, fome Philofophers draw very important con-
clufions. They fay, that, as the balance cannot incline to one fide
more than the other, when the oppofite weights are equal ; fo a
man cannot pofTibly determine himfelf if the motives on both
hands are equal j and as the balance maft necelFarily turn to that

fide

S6 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. IV. {JJe which has moft weight, fo the man mufl neceflarily be deter-
mined to that hand where the motive is ftrongeft. And on this
foundation fome of the fchoolmen maintained, that, if a hungry
afs were placed between two bundles of hay equally inviting, the
bead muft ftand ftill and ftarve to death, being unable to turn to
either, becaufe there are equal motives to both. This is an in-
ftance of that analogical reafoning, which I conceive ought never
to be trufted : For the analogy between a balance and a man deli-
berating, though one of the ftrongeft that can be found between
matter and mind, is too weak to fupport any argument. A piece
of dead inadive matter, and an adlive intelligent being, are things
very unlike j and becaufe the one would remain at reft in a certain
cafe, it does not follow that the other would be inadive in a cafe
fomewhat fimilar. The argument is no better than this, that,
becaufe a dead animal moves only as it is puflied, and, if pufhed
with equal force in contrary directions, muft remain at reft ; there-
fore the fame thing muft happen to a living animal ; for furely the
fimilitude between a dead animal and a living, is as great as that
between a balance and a man.

The conclufion I" would draw from all that has been faid on ana-
' logy, is, that, in our enquiries concerning the mind, and its ope-
rations, we ought never to truft to reafonings, drawn from fome
fuppofed fimilitude of body to mind ; and that we ought to be
very much upon our guard, that we be not impofed upon by thofe
analogical terms and phrafes, by which the operations of the mind
are exprefTed in all languages.

CHAP.

OF THE OPERATIONS OF THE MIND.

CHAP, V.

Of the proper Means of knowing the Op'rat'ions of the Mind.

SINCE we ought to pay no regard to hypothefes, and to be very
fufpicious of analogical reafoning, it may be afked from what
fource mud the knowledge of the mind, and its faculties, be
drawn ?

I anfwer, the chief and proper fource of this branch of know-
ledge is accurate refledlion upon the operations of our own minds.
Of this fource we {hall fpeak more fully, after making fome re-
marks upon two others that may be fubfervient to it. The firft of
them is attention to the ftrudure of language.

The language of mankind is expreffive of their thoughts, and
of the various operations of their minds. The various operations
of the under {landing, will, and pafTions, which are common to
mankind, have various forms of fpeech correfponding to them
in all languages, which are the {igns of them, and by which they
are expre{red : And a due attention to the {igns- may, in many
cafes, give con{iderable light to the things fignified by them.

There are in all languages modes of fpeech, by which men {Ig-
nify their judgment, or give their teflimony j by which they ac-
cept or refufe ; by which they a{k information or advice ; by
which they command, or threaten, or fupplicate ;. by which they
■plight their faith in promifes or contradls. If fuch operations
were not common to mankind, we fhould not find in all languages
forms of fpeech, by which they are exprelTed.

All languages, indeed, have their imperfedlions ; they can ne-
ver be adequate to all the varieties of human thought; and there-
fore things may be really di{lln6t in their nature, and capable of
being dl{lingul{hed by the human mind, which are not diflingui{h-

H cd

SI

CHAP. V.

^

58 ESSAY!.

CHAP. V. e(j in common language. We can only expecl:, in the ftruflure of
languages, thofe diftin(5llons which all mankind in the common
bufmefs of life have occafion to make.

There may be peculiarities in a particular language, of the caufes
of which we are ignorant, and from which, therefore, we can draw
no conclufion. . But whatever we find common to all languages,
muft have a common caufe ; muft be owing to fome common no-
tion or fentiment of the human mind.

We gave fome examples of this before, and flVall here add ano-
ther. All languages have a plural number in many of their nouns ;
from which we may infer, that all men have notions, not of indi-
vidual things only, but of attributes, or things which are common
to many individuals ; for no individual can have a plural number.

Another fource of information in this fubjedl, is a due attention
to the courfe of human adlions and condu<5l. The actions of men
are efFedls : Their fentiments, their paflions, and their affed^ions,
are the caufes of thofe efFe(5ts ; and we may, in many cafes, form
a judgment of the caufe from the effedl.

The behaviour of parents towards their children gives fufficient
evidence, even to thofe who never had children, that the parental
afFedlion is common to mankind. It is eafy to fee, from the general
condudl of men, what are the natural objedls of their efleem, their
admiration, their love, their approbation, their refentment, and of
all their other original difpofitions. It is obvious, from the con-
du6l of men in all ages, that man is by his nature a focial animal;
that he delights to aflbciate with his fpecies ; to converfe, and to
exchange good offices with them.

Not only the a(5lions, but even the opinions of men may fome-
times give light into the frame of the human mind. The opinions
of men may be confiidered as the effeds of their intellectual powers.

OF THE OPERATIONS OF THE MIND. 59

as their adlions are the efFedts of their adlive principles. Even the CHAP. v.
prejudices and errors of mankind, when they are general, mufb
have fome caufe no lefs general ; the difcovery of which will throw
fome light upon the frame of the human underftanding.

I conceive this to be the principal ufe of the hiftory of philo-
fophy. When we trace the hiftory of the various philofophical
opinions that have fprung up among thinking men, we are led
into a labyrinth of fanciful opinions, contradi«5lions, and abfurdi-
ties, intermixed with fome truths ; yet we may fometimes find a
clue to lead us through the feveral windings of this labyrinth:
We may find that point of view which prefented things to the
author of the fyflem, in the light in which they appeared to him.
This will often give a confiftency to things feemingly contra-
didlory, and fome degree of probability to thofe that appeared mod
fanciful.

The hiftory of philofophy, confidered as a map of the intelledlual
operations of men of genius, muft always be entertaining, and
may fometimes give us views of the human underftanding, which
could not eafily be had any other way.

I return to what I mentioned as the main fource of information
on this fubjedl ; attentive refledlion upon the operations of our own
minds.

All the notions we have of mind, and of its operations, are, by
Mr Locke, called ideas of reflexion. A man may have as diftindl
notions of remembrance, of judgment, of will, of defire, as he has
of any objedl whatever. Such notions, as Mr Locke juftly ob-
ferves, are got by the power of refle<5lion. But what is this power
of refle<flion ? It is, fays the fame author, " that power by which
*' the mind turns its view inward, and obfervcs its own atlions
" and operations." He obferves elfewhere, " That the under-
" ftanding, like the eye, whilft it makes us fee and perceive all

H 2 " other

6o E S S A Y I. .

CHAP. V. « other things, takes no notice of itfelf; and that it requires
" art and pains to fet it at a diftance, and make it its own
" objedl." Cicero hath exprefled this fentiment mofl beautifully.
Tufc. I. 28.

This power of the underftanding to make its own operations its
object, to attend to them, and examine them on all fides, is the
power of reflection, by which alone we can have any diftindl no-
tion of the powers of our own, or of other minds.

' '-This reflection ought to be diflinguiflied from confcioufnefs,
with which it is too often confounded, even by Mr Locke. All
men are confcious of the operations of their own minds, at all
times, while they are awake ; but there are few who refled upon
them, or make them objedls of thought.

From infancy, till we come to the years of underfl:anding, we
are employed folely about external objecfls. And, although the
mind is confcious of its operations, it does not attend to them; its
attention is turned folely to the external objects, about which thofe
operations are employed. Thus, when a man is angry, he is con-
fcious of his pafllon ; but his attention is turned to the perfon who
offended him, and the circumft:ances of the offence, while the pat-
fion of anger is not in the leaft the objedl of his attention.

I conceive, this is fufiicient to fliew the difference between con-
fcioufnefs of the operations of our minds, and refleiflion upon
them ; and to fliew that we may have the former without any de-
gree of the latter. The difference between confcioufnefs and re-
fledlion, is like to the difference between a fuperficial view of an
objecfl which prefents itfelf "to the eye, while we are engaged about
fomething eKe, and that attentive examination which we give to
an objedl when we are wholly employed in furveylng it. Attention
is a voluntary a(f> ; it requires an adlive exertion to begin and to
continue it ; and it may be continued as long as we will ; but con-
fcioufnefs

OF THE O.PERATIONS OF THE MIND. 6i

fcioufnefs is involuntary and of no continuance, changing with CHAP. v.
every thought.

The power of refledlion upon the operations of their own minds
does not appear at all in children. Men mud be come to fome
ripenefs of underftanding before they are capable of it. Of all the
powers of the human mind, it feems to be the laft that unfolds
itfelf. Moft men feem incapable of acquiring it in any confider-
able degree. Like all our other powers, it is greatly improved by
exercife ; and until a man has got the habit of attending to the
operations of his own mind, he can never have clear and diftincl
notions of them, nor form any Heady judgment concerning them.
His opinions mufl be borrowed from others, his notions confufed
and indiflindl, and he may eafily be led to fwallow very grofs ab-
furdities. To acquire this habit, is a work of time and labour,
even in thofe who begin it early, and whofe natural talents are
tolerably fitted for it ; but the difficulty will be daily diminifliing,
and the advantage of it is great. They will thereby be enabled to
think with precifion and accuracy on every fubjedt, efpecially on
thofe fubjedls that are more abftradt. They will be able to judge
for themfelves in many important points, wherein others mull
blindly follow a leader.

CHAP. vr.

Of the Difficulty of attending to the Operations of our own Minds.

THE difficulty of attending to our mental operations ought
to be well underflood, and juflly eflimated, by thofe who
would make any progrefs in this fcience ; that they may neither,
on the one hand, expe<fl: fuccefs without pains and application of
thought; nor, on the other, be difcouraged, by conceiving that the
obftacles that lie in the way are infuperable, and that there is no
certainty to be attained in it. I ihall, therefore, endeavour to point

out

62 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. VI out the caufes of this difficulty, and the efFedls that have arlfen
from it, that we may be able to form a true judgment of both.

1. The number and quick fucceflion of the operations of the
mind make it difficult to give due attention to them. It is well
known, that if a great number of objec^ls be prefented in quick
fucceffion, even to the eye, they are confounded in the memory
and imagination. We retain a confufed notion of the whole, and
a more confufed one of the feveral parts, efpecially if they are ob-
jedls to which we have never before given particular attention. No
fucceffion can be more quick than that of thought. The mind is
bufy while we are awake, continually paffing from one thought,
and one operation, to another. The fcene is conftantly fhifting.
Every man will be fenfible of this, who tries but for one minute to
keep the fame thought in his imagination, without addition or va-
riation. He will find it impoffible to keep the fcene of his imagi-
nation fixed. Other objedts will intrude without being called, and
all he can do is to rejedl thefe intruders as quickly as poffible, and
return to his principal objed.

3. In this exercife, we go contrary to habits which have been early
acquired, and confirmed by long unvaried pra6lice. From infan-
cy, we are accuftomed to attend to objedls of fenfe, and to them
only ; and, when fenfible objedls have got fuch ftrong hold of the
attention by confirmed habit, it is not eafy to difpoflefs them.
When we grow up, a variety of external objedls folicits our atten-
tion, excites our curiofity, engages our affections, or touches our
paffions ; and the conftant round of employment, about external
obje(5ts, draws off the mind from attending to itfelf ; fo that no-
thing is more juft than the obfervation of Mr Locke before men-
tioned, " That the underftanding, like the eye, while it furveys
" all the objeds around it, comm9nly takes no notice of itfelf."

3. The operations of the mind, from their very nature, lead
the mind to give its attention to fome other objedt. Our fenfa-

tions,

OF THE OPERATIONS OF THE MIND. 63

cions, as will be fhown afterwards, are natural figns, and turn our CHAP. VL

attention to the things fignified by them ; fo much, that moft of

them, and thofe the moft frequent and familiar, have no name in

any language. In perception, memory, judgment, imagination,

and reafoning, there is an objedl diftinft from the operation itfelf ;

and, while we are led by a ftrong impulfe to attend to the objecfl,

the operation efcapes our notice. Our paflions, affedlions, and all

our adlive powers, have, in like manner, their objedls which en-

grofs our attention, and divert it from the paflion itfelf.

4. To this we may add a juft obfervation made by Mr Hume,
Tliat, when the mind is agitated by any paflion, as foon as we
turn our attention from the objedl to the pafTion itfelf, the paflion
fubfides or vanifhes, and by that means efcapes our enquiry. This,
indeed, is common to almoft every operation of the mind : When
it is exerted, we are confcious of it ; but then we do not attend to
the operation, but to its objedl. When the mind is drawn off from
the objedl to attend to its own operation, that operation ceafes,
and efcapes our notice.

5. As it is not fufficient to the difcovery of mathematical truths,
that a man be able to attend to mathematical figures ; as it is necef-
fary that he fhould have the ability to diftinguifli accurately things
that differ, and to difcern clearly the various relations of the quan-
tities he compaVes ; an ability which, though much greater in thofe
who have the force of genius than in others, yet even in them re-
quires exercife and habit to bring it to maturity : So, in order to
difcover the truth in what relates to the operations of the mind,
it is not enough that a man be able to give attention to them ; he
muft have the ability to diftinguifli accurately their minute differ-
ences ; to refolve and analyfe complex operations into their fimple
ingredients ; to unfold the ambiguity of words, which in this
fcience is greater than in any other, and to give them the fame ac-
curacy and precifion that mathematical terms have. For, indeed,
the fame precifion in the ufe of words j the fame cool attention to

the

64 ESSAY I.

CHAP^ VI. f}je minute differences of things ; the fame talent for abftradtion
and analyfing, which fits a man for the ftudy of mathematics, is no
lefs neceffary in this. But there is this great difference between the
two fciences, that the objedls of mathematics being things extei>
nal to the mind, it is much more eafy to attend to them, and fix
them fteadily in the imagination.

The difficulty attending our enquiries into the powers of the
mind, ferves to account for fome events refpedling this branch of
philofophy, which deferve to be mentioned.

While mofl branches of fcience have, either in ancient or in
modern times, been highly cultivated, and brought to a confider-
able degree of perfedion, this remains, to this day, in a very low
fliate, and as it were in its infancy.

Every fcience invented by men muft have its beginning and its
progrefs ; and, from various caufes, it may happen that one fci-
ence fliall be brought to a great degree of maturity, while another
is yet in its infancy. The maturity of a fcience may be judged
of by this : When it contains a fyflem of principles, and conclufions
drawn from them, which are fo firmly eftabliihed, that, among
thinking and intelligent men, there remains no doubt or difpute
about them ; fb that thofe who come after may raife the fuper-
flrudlure higher, but Ihall never be able to overturn what is al-
ready built, in order to begin on a new foundation.

Geometry feems to have been in its infancy about the time of
TuALES and Pythagoras ; becaufe many of the elementary pro-
pofitions, on which the whole fcience Is built, are afcribed to them
as the inventors. Euclid's Elements, which were written fome
ages after Pythagoras, exhibit a fyftem of geometry which de-
ferves the name of a fcience ; and though great additions have
been made by Appollonius, Archimedes, Pappus, and others
among the ancients, and dill greater by the moderns j yet what

was

OF THE OPERATIONS OF THE MIND. 65

was laid down in Euclid's Elements was never fee afide. It re- CHAP, vi.
mains as the firm foundation of all future fuperftrudlures in that
fcience.

Natural philofophy remained in its infant ftate near two thou-
fand years after geometry had attained to its manly form : For na-
tural philofophy feems not to have been built on a liable founda-
tion, nor carried to any degree of maturity, till the laft century.
The fyftem of Des Cartes, which was all hypothefis, prevailed
in the mod enlightened part of Europe till towards the end of
laft century. Sir Isaac Newton has the merit of giving the form
of a fcience to this branch of philofophy ; and it need not appear
furprifing, if the philofophy of the human mind fhould be a cen-
tury or two later in being brought to maturity.

le has received great acceffions from the labours of feveral mo-
dern authors ; and perhaps wants little more to entitle it to the
name of a fcience, but to be purged of certain hypothefes, which
have impofed on fome of the moft acute writers on this fubje<fl,
and led them into downright fcepticifm.

What the ancients have delivered to us concerning the mind,
and its operations, is almoft entirely drawn, not from iaccurate re-
flecflion, but from, fome conceived analogy between body and
mind. And although the modern authors I formerly named have
given more attention to the operations of their own minds, and by
that means have made important difcoveries ; yet, by retaining
fome of the ancient analogical notions, their difcoveries have been
lefs ufeful than they might have been, and have led to fcepticifm.

It may happen in fcience, as in building, that an error in the
foundation fliall weaken the whole ; and the farther the building
is carried on, this weaknefs fliall become the more apparent and
the more threatening. Something of this kind feems to have hap-
pened in our fyftcms concerning the mind. The acceflion they

I have

66 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. vi. have received by modern difcoveries, though very important in it-*
felf, has thrown darknefs and obfcurity upon the whole, and has
led men rather to fcepticifm thnn to knowledge. This muft be
owing to fome fundamental errors that have not been obferved j
and when thefe are correifted, it is to be hoped, that the improve-
ments that have been made will have their due effe<5l.

The laft eflfed; I obferve of the difficulty of enquiries into the
powers of the mind, is, that there is no other part of human
knowledge, in which ingenious authors have been fo apt to run
into flrange paradoxes, and even into grofs abfurdities.

When we find Philofophei's maintaining that there is no heat in
the fire, nor colour in the rainbow : When we find the graveft Philo-
fophers, from Des Cartes down to Bifliop Berkeley, mufler-
ing up arguments to prove the exiftence of a material worlds and
unable to find any that will bear examination : When we find Bi-
fliop Berkeley and Mr Hume, the acuteft Metaphyficians of the
age, maintaining that there is no fuch thing as matter in the uni-
verfe : That fun, moon, and ftars, the earth which we inhabit,
our own bodies, and thofe of our friends, are only ideas in our
minds, and have no exiftence but in thought : When we find the
laft maintaining that there is neither body nor mind ; nothing in
nature but ideas and impreffions, without any fubftance on which
they are impreOed : That there is no certainty, nor indeed proba- .
bility, even in mathematical axioms : I fay, when we confider
fuch extravagancies of many of the moft acute writers on this fub-
jc&y we may be apt to think the whole to be only a dream of fan-
ciful men, who have entangled themfelves in cobwebs fpun out of
their own brain. But we ought to confider, that the more clofe-
ly and ingenioufly men reafon from falfe principles, the more ab-
furdities they will be led into ; and when fuch abfurdities help to
bring to light the falfe principles from which they are drawn, they
may be the more eafily forgiven.

CHAP.

DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. ^-j

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VII.
Divifion of the Powers of the Mind.

THE powers of the mind are fo many, fo various, and fo con-
nedled and complicated in moft of its operations, that there
never has been any divifion of them propofed which is not liable
to confiderable objedlions. We fhall therefore take that general
divifion which is the moft common, into the powers of under-
flanding and thofe of will. Under the will we comprehend our
adlive powers, and all that lead to adlion, or influence the mind to
a6l ; fuch as, appetites, pafCons, afFedions. The underftanding
comprehends our contemplative powers ; by which we perceive
objedls ; by which we conceive or remember them ; by which we
analyfe or compound them ; and by which we judge and reafon
concerning them.

Although this general divifion may be of ufe in order to our
proceeding more methodically in our fubjedl, we are not to under-
ftand it as if, in thofe operations which are afcribed to the under-
ftanding, there were no exertion of will or acSlivity, or as if the
underftanding were not employed in the operations afcribed to
the will ; for I conceive there is no operation of the underftanding
wherein the mind is not a6live in fome degree. We have fome
command over our thoughts, and can attend to this or to that, of
many objedls which prefent themfelves to our fenfes, to our me-
mory, or to our imagination. We can furvey an object on this
fide or that, fuperficially or accurately, for a longer or a ftiorter
time ; fo that our contemplative powers are under the guidance
and dire<5lion of the adlive ; and the former never purfue their ob-
jedl without being led and dire(5led, urged or reftrained by the lat-
ter : And becaufe the underftanding is always more or lefs diredl-
ed by the will, mankind have afcribed fome degree of a<5livity to

I 2 the'

68 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. VII. xhe niind in its intelledlual operations, as well as in thofe which
belong to the will, and have cxprefTed them by aclive verbs, fuch
as feeing, hearing, judging, reaibning, and the like.

And as the mind exerts fome degree of av^vlty even in the ope-
rations of underftanding, fo it is certain that there can be no ai5t
of will which is not accom,panied' wich fome a£t of underftand-
ing. The will muft have an obje6l, and that obje<5l muft be ap-
prehended or conceived in the underftanding. It is therefore to
be remembered, that in moft, if not all operations of the mind,
both faculties concur ; and we range the operation under that fa-
culty which hath the largefl Ihare in it.

The intelledlual powers are commonly divided into fimple ap-
prehenfion, judgment, and reafonlng. As this divifion has in its
favour the authority of antiquity, and of a very general reception,
it wovild be improper to fet ic afide without giving any reafon; 1
fhall therefore explain it briefly, and give the reafons why I chufe
to follow another.

It may be obferved, that, without apprehenfion of the obje6ls,
concerning which we judge, there can be no judgment; as little
can there be reafoning without both apprehenfion and judgment :
Thefe three operations, therefore, are not independent of each
other. The fecond includes the firft, and the third includes both
the firft and fecond : But the firft may be exercifed without either
of the other two. It is on that account caWed Jimpk apprehenfion;
that is, apprehenfion unaccompanied with any judgment about the
objedl apprehended. This fimple apprehenfion of an objedl is, in
common language, called having a notion^ or having a conception of
the objedt, and by late authors is called having an idea of it. In
fpeaking, it is exprefted by a word, or by a part of a propofition,
without that compoficlon and ftru<fluie which makes a complete
fentence ; as a man^ a man of for'.uni. Such words, taken by
themfelvcs, fignify fimple apprehenfions. They neither affirm nor

deny ;

DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. 6g

deny ; they imply no judgment or opinion of the thing fignificd CUAT. VII.
by them, and therefore cannot be faid to be either true or falfe.

The fecond operation in this diviiion is judgmott ; in which,
fay the Philofophers, there muft be two objedls of thought com-
pared, and fome agreement or difagreement, or, in general, fome
relation difcerned between them ; in confequence of which, there
is an opinion or belief of that relation which we difcern. This
operation is exprefTed in fpeech by a propofition, in which fome
relation between the things compared is affirmed or denied : As
when we fay. All men are fallible.

Truth and falfehood are qualities which belong to judgment
only ; or to propofitions by which judgment is expreffed. Every
judgment, every opinion, and every propofition, is either true or
falfe. But words which neither affirm nor deny any thing, can have
neither of thofe qualities ; and the fame may be faid of fimple ap-
prehenfions, which are fignified by fuch words.

The third operation is reafoning ; in which, from two or more
judgments, we draw a conclufion.

This divifion of our intelledlual powers correfponds perfectly
with the account commonly given by Philofophers, of the fuccef--
five fteps by which the mind proceeds in the acquifition of its
knowledge ; which are thefe three : F'lrjl^ by the fenfes, or by other
means, it is furnifhed with various fimple apprehenfions, notions
or ideas. Thefe are the materials which nature gives it to work
upon ; and from the fimple ideas it is furnifhed with by nature, it
forms various others more complex. Secondly^ by comparing its
ideas, and by perceiving their agreements and difagreements, it
forms its judgments. And, Injlly^ from two or more judgments,
it deduces conclufions of reafoning.

Now, if all our knowledge is got by a procedure of this kind,

certainly

70 E S S A Y I.

CHAP. VII. certainly the threefold divifion of the powers of underftanding, into
fimple apprehenfion, judgment and reafoning, is the nnoft natural,
and the moft proper, that can be devifed. This theory and that divi-
fion are fo clofely connecfled, thatit is difficult to judge which of them
has given rife to the other ; and they muft (land or fall together.
But if all our knowledge is not got by a procefs of this kind ; if there
are other avenues of knowledge befidcs the comparing our ideas,
and perceiving their agreements and difagreements, it is probable
that there may be operations of the underftanding which cannot be
properly reduced under any of the three that have been explained.

Let us confider fome of the moft familiar operations of our
minds, and fee to which of the three they belong. I begin with
confcioufnefs. I know that I think, and this of all knowledge is
the moft certain. Is that operation of my mind, which gives me
this certain knowledge, to be called fimple apprehenfion ? No, fure-
ly. Simple apprehenfion neither affirms nor denies. It will not be
faid that it is by reafoning that I know that I think. It remains,
therefore, that it muft be by judgment, that is, according to the ac-
account given of judgment, by comparing two ideas, and perceiving
the agreement between them. But what are the ideas compared ?
They muft be the idea of myfelf, and the idea of thought, for
they are the terms of the propofition / think. According to this ac-
count then, firft, I have the idea of myfelf, and the idea of thought ;
then, by comparing thefe two ideas, I perceive that I think.

Let any man who is capable of refledlion judge for himfelf,
whether it is by an operation of this kind that he comes to be con-
vinced that he thinks ? To me it appears evident, that the convic-
tion I have that I think, is not got in this way ; and therefore I
conclude, either that confcioufnefs is not judgment, or that judg-
ment is not rightly defined to be the perception of fome agreement
or difagreement between two ideas.

The perception of an objedl by my fenfes, is another operation of

the

DIVISION OF THE POWERS OF THE MIND. 71

the underflandlng. I would know whether it be fimple apprehenfion, CHAP. Vir.
or judgment, or reafoning. It is not fimple apprehenfion, becaufe I
am perfuaded of the exiftence of the objedl as much as I could be by
demonftration. It is not judgment, if by judgment be meant the
comparing ideas, and perceiving their agreements or difagreements.
It is not reafoning, becaufe" thofe who cannot reafon can perceive.

I find the fame difficulty in claffing memory under any of the
operations mentioned.

There is not a more fruitful fource of error in this branch of
philofophy, than divifions of things which are taken to be com-
plete when they are not really fo. To make a perfedl divifion of
any clafs of things, a man ought to have the whole under his
view at once. But the greateft capacity very often is not fufficient
for this. Some thing is left out which did not come under the
Philofopher's view when he made his divifion : And to fuit this
to the divifion, it muft be made what nature never made it.
This has been fo common a fault of Philofophers, that one who
would avoid error ought to be fufpicious of divifions, though
long received, and of great authority, efpecially when they are
grounded on a theory that may be called in queftion. In a fubjedl
imperfectly known, we ought not to pretend to perfedl divifions,
but to leave room for fuch additions or alterations as a more per-
fe(5l view of the fubjedl may afterwards fuggeft.

I fhall not, therefore, attempt a complete enumeration of the
powers of the human underftanding. I Ihall only mention thofe
which I propofe to explain, and they are the following :

ly?, The powers we -have by means of our external fenfes. ^dly.
Memory, '^dly^ Conception, /^hly^ The powers of refolving and
analyfing complex objects, and compounding thofe that are more
fimple. f/i'/j'. Judging. 6/Z'/)', Reafoning. ']thly^ Talte. 8//&/k,
Moral Perceptioia ; and, lajl of all, Confcioufnefs,

CHAP.

7^

CHAP.VIir.

ESSAY I.

CHAP. VIII.
Of /octal Operations of Mind.

THERE is another divifion of the powers of the muid, which,
though it has been, ought not to be overlooked by writers
on this fubjedl, becaufe it has a real foundation in nature. Some
operations of our minds, from their very nature, 2lXq facial^ others
zxtfol'itary.

By the firft, I underftand fuch operations as neceflarily fuppofe
an intercourfe with Tome other intelhgent being. A man may un-
derftand and will ; he may apprehend, and judge, and reafon,
though he fhould know of no intelligent being in the univerfe be-
fides himfelf. But, when he afks information, or receives it;
when he bears teftimony, or receives the teftimony of another ;
when he afks a favour, or accepts one ; when he gives a command
to his fervant, or receives one from a fuperior : when he plights
his faith in a promife or contradl ; thefe are adls of focial inter-
courfe between intelligent beings, and can have no place in foli-
tude. They fuppofe imderftanding and will; but they fuppofe
fomething more, which is neither underftanding nor will ; that is,
fociety with other intelligent beings. They may be called intellec-
tual, becaufe they can only be in intellectual beings: But they are
neither fimple apprehenfion, nor judgment, nor reafoning, nor are
they any combination of thefe operations.

To aik a queftion, is as fimple an operation as to judge or to rea-
fon; yet it is neither judgment, nor reafoning, nor fimple appre-
henfion, nor is it any compofition of thefe. Teftimony is neither
fimple apprehenfion, nor judgment, nor reafoning. The fame may
be faid of a promife, or of a contradl. Thefe adts of mind are
perfedly underftood by every man of common underftanding ;
but, when Philofophers attempt to bring them within the pale of
their divifions, by analyfing them, they find inexplicable myfte-

ries,

OF SOCIAL OPERATIONS OF MIND. 73

ries, and even contradiftlons, in them. One may fee an inftance CHAP.viir.
of this, of many that might be mentioned, in Mr Htjme's En-
quiry concerning the principles of morals, fed. 3. part 2. note, near
the end.

The attempts of Philofophers to reduce the focial operations un-
der the common philofophical divifions, refemble very much the
attempts of fome Philofophers to reduce all our focial affedlions to
certain modifications of felf-love. The Author of our being in-
tended us to be focial beings, and has, for that end, given us fo-
cial intelle<5lual pow^ers, as well as focial afFecflions. Both are origi-
nal parts of our conftitution, and the exertions of both no lefs natu-
ral than the exertions of thofe powers that are folitary and felfifli.

Our focial intelledlual operations, as well as our focial afFedlions,
appear very early in life, before we are capable of reafoning j yet
both fuppofe a convi<5lion of the exiflence of other intelligent be-
ings. When a child afks a queftion of his nurfe, this ad of his
mind fuppofes not only a defire to know what he afks ; it fuppofes
likewife a convidlion that the nurfe is an intelligent being, to whom
he' can communicate his thoughts, and who can communicate her
thoughts to him. How he came by this convidtion fo early, is a •

queftion of fome importance in the knowledge of the human mind,
and therefore worthy of the confideration of Philofophers. But
they feem to have given no attention either to this early convidion,
or to thofe operations of mind which f lappofe it. Of this we Ihall
have occalion to treat afterwards.

All languages are fitted to exprefs the focial as well as the foli-
tary operations of the mind. It may indeed be affirmed, that, to
exprefs the former, is the primary and dired intention of lan-
gnage. A man, who had no intercourfe with any other intelligent
being, would never think of language. He would be as mute as
the beafts of the field ; even more fo, becaufe they have fome de-
gree of focial intercourfe with one another, and fome of them

K with

74 ESSAY I.

CHAr.viti. ^jf)-, man. When language is once learned, it may be ufeful even
in our folitary meditations ; and, by clothing our thoughts with
words, we may have a firmer hold of them. But this was not its
firlt intention ; and the ftrudlure of every language flaews that it is
not intended folely for this purpofe.

In every language, a quefliion, a command, a promlfe, which
are focial adts, can be exprefTed as eafily and as properly as judg-
ment, which is a folitary adl. The expreflion of the laft has been
honoured with a particular name ; it is called a propofition ; it has
been an obje<5l of great attention to Philofophers ; it has been
analyfed into its very elements of fubjecH:, predicate, and copula.
All the various modifications of thefe, and of propofitions
which are compounded of them, have been anxioufly examined
in many voluminous tradts. The expreflion of a queflion, of a
command, or of a promife, is as capable of being analyfed as
a propofition is ; but we do not find that this has been attempt-
ed ; we have not fo much as given them a name different from the
operations which they exprefs.

Why have fpeculative men laboured fo anxioufly to analyfe onr
folitar;y operations, and given fo little attention to the focial ? 1
know no other reafon but this, that, in the divifions that have
been made of the mind's operations, the focial have been omitted,
and thereby thrown behind the curtain.

In all languages, the fecond perfon of verbs, the pronoun of the
fecond perfon, and the vocative cafe in nouns, are appropriated to
the exprefTion of focial operations of mind, and could never have
had place in language but for this purpofe : Nor is it a good argu-
ment againfl this obfervation, that, by a rhetorical figure, we
fometimes addrefs perfons that are abfent, or even inanimated be-
ings, in the fecond perfon. For it ought to be remembered, that
all figurative ways of ufing words or phrafes fuppofe a natural and
literal meaning of them.

ESSAY

7S

CHAP. I.

ESSAY II.

OF THE POWERS WE HAVE BY MEANS OF OUR
EXTERNAL SENSES.

CHAP. I.

Of the Organs of Senfe.

OF all the operations of our minds, the perception of external
obje(5ls is the mod familiar. The fenfes come to maturity
even in infancy, when other powers have not yet fprung up. They
are common to us with brute animals, and furnifli us with the ob-
je6ls about which our other powers are the mod frequently em-
ployed. We find it eafy to attend to their operations ; and becaufe
they are familiar, the names which properly belong to them are
applied to other powers, which are thought to refemble them ; for
thefe reafons they claim to be firft confidered.

The perception of external objedls is one main link of that my-
fterious chain which connecfls the material world v/ith the intellec-
tual. We (hall find many things in this operation unaccountable ;
fufficient to convince us, that we know but little of our own frame;
and that a perfed: comprehenfion of our mental powers, and of the
manner of their operation, is beyond the reach of our underflanding.

In perception there are impreflions upon the organs of fenfe,
the nerves, and brain, which, by the laws of our nature, are fol-
lowed by certain operations of mind. Thefe two things are apt
to be confounded; but ought mofl: carefully to be diftinguifhed.
Some Philolbphcrs, without good reafon,' have concluded, that the

K 2 imprcfiions

76 ESSAY II.

CHAP. I. impreflions made on the body are the proper efficient caufe of per-
ception. Others, with as Httle reafon, have concluded, that im-
preffions are made on the mind fimilar to thofe made on the body.
From thefe miftakeS many others have arifen. The wrong notions
men have ralhly taken up with regard to the fenfes, have led to
wrong notions with regard to other powers which are conceived
to i-efemble them. Many important pq-yvers of mind have, efpe-
cially of late, been called internal fenfes^ from a fuppofed refem-
blance to the external ; fuch as, the fenfe of beauty, the fenfe of
harmony, the moral fenfe. And it is to be apprehended, that er-
rors, with regard to the external, have, from analogy, led to fimi-
lar errors with regard to the internal ; it is therefore of fome con-
fequence, even with regard to other branches of our fubjed, to
have jull notions concerning the external fenfes.

in 'order to this, we fliall begin with fome obfervations on the
organs of fenfe, and on the impreffions which in perception ar^
made upon them, and upon the nerves and brain.

We perceive no external obje(5l, but by means of certain bodily
organs which God has given us for that purpofe. The Supreme
Being who made us, and placed us in this world, hath given us
fuch powers of mind as he faw to be fuited to our flate and rank
in his creation. He has given us the power of perceiving many
objedls around us, the fun, moon, and flars, the earth and fea,
and a variety of animals, vegetables, and inanimate bodies. But
our power of perceiving thefe objefls is limited in various ways,
and particularly in this ; that without the organs of the feveral
fenfes, we perceive no external objedl. We cannot fee without
eyes, nor hear without ears : It is not only necelTary that we fhould
have thefe organs, but that they ftiould be in a found and natural
ftate. There are many diforders of the eye that caufe total blind-
nefs ; others that impair the powers of vifion, without deftroying
it altogether ; and the fame may be laid of the organs of all the
other fenfes.

All

OF THE ORGANS OF SENSE. 77

All this is fo well known from experience, that it needs no chap. i.
proof; but it ought to be obferved, that we know it from experi-
ence only. We can give no reafon for it, but that fuch is the will
of our Maker. No man can fhew it to be impoflible to the Su-
preme Being to have.given us the power of perceiving external
objedls without fuch organs. We have reafon to believe, that
when we put off thefe bodies, and all the organs belonging to
tliem, our perceptive powers fhall rather be improved than de-
ftroyed or impaired. We have reafon to believe, that the Supreme
Being perceives every thing in a much more perfect manner than
we do, without bodily organs. We have reafon to believe, that
there are other created beings endowed with powers of perception
more perfe(5l and more extenfive than ours, without any fuch or-
gans as we find neceffary.

We ought not, therefore, to conclude, that fuch bodily organs
are, in their own nature, neceflary to perception ; but rather, that,
by the will of God, our power of perceiving external objedls is
limited and circumfcribed by our organs of fenfe ; fo that we per-
ceive obje<5ls in a certain manner, and in certain circumflances,
and in no other.

If a man was (hut up in a dark room, fo that he could fee no-
thing but through one fmall hole in the fliutter of a window,
Would he conclude, that the hole was the caufe of his feeing, and
that it is impoffible to fee any other way ? Perhaps, if he had ne-
ver in his life feen but in this way, he might be apt to think fb ;
but the conclufion is ralh and groundlefs. He fees, becaufe God
has given him the power of feeing ; and he fees only through this
fmall hole, becaufe his power of feeing is circumfcribed by impe-
diments on all other hands.

Another neceflary caution in this matter is, that we ought not
to confotmd the organs of perception with the being that perceives.
Perception muft be the ad of fome being that perceives. The eye

is

78 E S S A Y ir.

CHAP. I. is not that which fees ; it is only the organ by which we fee. The
ear is not that which hears ; but the organ by which we hear ;
and fo of the reft.

A man cannot fee the Satellites of Jupiter but by a telefcope.
Does he conclude from this, that it is the telefcope that fees thofe
ftars ? By no means ; fuch a conclufion would be abfurd. It is no
lefs abfurd to conclude, that it is the eye that fees, or the ear that
hears. The telefcope is an artificial organ of fight, but it fees
not. The eye is a natural organ of fight, by which we fee ; but
the natural organ fees as little as the artificial.

The eye is a machine moft admirably contrived for refradling
the rays of light, and forming a diftind pidlure of objeds upon
the retina ; but it fees neither the objed nor the picflure. It can
form the pidure after it is taken out of the head ; but no vifion
enfues. Even when it is in its proper place, and perfeflly found,
it is well known that an obftrudlion in the optic nerve takes away
vifion, though the eye has performed all that belongs to it.

If any thing more were neceflary to be faid on a point fo evi-
dent, we might obferve, that if the faculty of feeing were in the
eye, that of hearing in the ear, and fo of the other fenfes, the ne-
ceflary confequence of this would be, that tlie thinking principle,
which I call myfelf, is not one, but many. But this is contrary to
the irrefiftible convidlion of every man. When I fay, I fee, I hear,
I feel, I remember, this implies that it is one and the fame felf that
performs all thefe operations ; and as it would be abfurd to fay,
that my memory, another man's imagination, and a third man's rea-
ibn, may make one individual intelligent being, it would be equally
abfurd to fay, that one piece of matter feeing, another hearing,
and a third feeling, may make one and the fame percipient being.

Thefe fentiments are not new ; they have occurred to thinking
incn from early ages. Cicero, in his Tufculan Queftions, lib. i,

chap.

OF IMPRESSIONS ON THE ORGANS, ^c. 79

chap. 20. has exprelTed them very diftindly. Thofe who chufe, CHAP. 11.
may confult the paiTage.

CHAP. II.

Of the Imprejfions on the Organs^ Nerves^ and Brains.

A Second law of our nature regarding perception is, that we per-
ceive no objecft, unlefs fome impreffion is made upon the or-
gan of fenfe, either by the immediate application of the objedl, or
by fome medium which paffes between the obje(5l and the organ.

In two of our fenfes, to wit, touch and tajie^ there muft be an
immediate application of the objecft to the organ. In the other
three, the objedl is perceived at a diftance, but ftill by means of a
medium, by which fome impreffion is made upon the organ.

The effluvia of bodies drawn into the noftrils with the breath,
are the medium of fmell ; the undulations of the air, are the me-
dium of hearing ; and the rays of light paffing from villble obje(5ls
to the eye, are the medium of fight. We fee no obje(5l, unlefs rays
of light come from it to the eye. We hear not the found of any
body, unlefs the vibrations of fome elaftic medium, occafioned by
the tremulous motion of the founding body, reach our ear. We
perceive no fmell, unlefs the effluvia of the fmelling body enter
into the noftrils. We perceive no tafte, unlefs the fapid body be
applied to the tongue, or fome part of the organ of tafte. Nor do
we perceive any tangible quality of a body, unlefs it touch the
hands, or fome part of our bodies.

Thefe are fa(5ts known from experience to hold univerfally and
invariably, both in men and brutes. By this law of our nature,
our powers of perceiving external objeds are farther limited and
circumfcribed. Nor can we give any other reafon for this, than

that

8o E S S A Y II.

CHAP. II. jj^jjj. jj jg fj^g ^iw Qf Q^j. Maker, who knows beft what powers, and
what degrees of them, are luited to our ftate. We were once in a
ftate, I mean in the womb, wherein our powers of perception were
more limited than in the prefent, and, in a future ftate, they may
be more enlarged.

It is llkewife a law of our nature, that, in order to our perceiving
objedls, the impreffions made upon the organs of fenfe nauft be
communicated to the nerves, and by them to the brain. This is
perfecflly known to thofe who know any thing of anatomy.

The nerves are fine cords, which pafs from the brain, or from
the fpinal marrow, which is a produdlion of the brain, to all parts
of the body, dividing into fmaller branches as they proceed, un-
til at laft they efcape our eye-fight : And it is found by experience
that all the voluntary and involuntary motions of the body ai*e
performed by their means. When the nerves that ferve any
limb, are cut, or tied hard, we have then no more power to move
that limb than if it was no part of the body.

As there are nerves that ferve the mufcular motions, fo there are
others that ferve the feveral fenfes ; and as without the former we
cannot move a limb, fo without the latter we can have no per-
ception.

This train of machinery the wifdom of God has made necef-
fary to our perceiving objedls. Various parts of the body concur
to it, and each has its own fundion. Fir/i, the obje6l either im-
mediately, or by fome medium, muft make an impreflion on the
organ. The organ ferves only as a medium, by which an impref-
fion is made on the nerve ; and the nerve ferves as a medium to
make an impreflion upon the brain. Here the material part ends;
at leaft we can trace it no farther j the reft is all intelledual.

The proof of thefe imprefllons upon the nerves and brain in

perception

OF IMPRESSIONS ON THE ORGANS, dr., 8i

perception is this, That, from many obfervations and experiments, chap. ii.

it is found, that when the organ of any fenfe is perfedlly found,

and has the impreffion made upon it by the objec^l ever fo ftrong-

ly; yet, if the nerve which ferves that organ be cut or tied hard,

there is no perception : And it is well known that diforders in the

brain deprive us of the power of perception when both the organ

and its nerve are found.

There is therefore fufficient reafon to conclude, that, in percep-
tion, the objedl produces fome change in the organ ; that the or-
gan produces fome change upon the nerve ; and that the nerve
produces fome change in the brain. And we give the name of an
impreffion to thofe changes, becaufe we have not a name more
proper to exprefs, in a general manner, any change produced in a
body, by an external caufe^ without fpecifying the nature of that
change. Whether it be prefTure, or attraction, or repulfion, or vi-
bration, or fomething unknown, for which we have no name, ftill
it may be called an impreffion. But, with regard to the particu-
lar kind of this change or impreffion, Philofophers have never
been able to difcover any thing at all.

But, whatever be the nature of thofe impreffions upon the or-
gans, nerves, and brain, we perceive nothing without them. Ex-
perience informs that it isfo ; but we cannot give a reafon why ic
is fo. In the conflitution of man, perception, by fixed laws of
nature, is connecSled with thofe impreffions ; but we can difcover
no neceffary connection. The Supreme Being has feen fit to limit
our power of perception ; fo that we perceive not without fucli im-
preffions i and this is all we know of the matter.

This, however, we have reafon to conclude in general, that as
the impreffions on the organs, nerves, and brain, correfpond ex-
actly to the nature and conditions of the objecfls by which they
are made ; fo our perceptions and fenfations correfpond to thofe
impreffions, and vary in kind, and in degree, as they vary.

L Without

82 ESSAY II.

CHAP. 11. Without this exa(5l correfpondence, the information we recoive by
our fenfes would not only be imperfe<5l, as it undovibtedly is, but
would be fallacious, which we have no reafon to think it is.

CHAP. III.
Hypothefes concerning the Nerves and Brain.

WE are informed by Anatomlfts, that although the two coats
which inclofe a nerve, and which it derives from the coats
of the brain, are tough and elaftic ; yet the nerve itfelf has a very
fmall degree of confiftence, being almoft like marrow. It has,
however, a fibrous texture, and may be divided and fubdivided,
till its fibres efcape our fenfes : And as we know i'o very little about
the texture of the nerves, there is great room left for thofe who
chufe to indulge themfelves in conjeiflure.

The ancients conjectured that the nervous fibres are fine tubes,
filled with a very fubtile fpirlt or vapour, which they called ani-
mal fpir its. That the brain is a gland, by which the animal fpi-
rits are fecreted from the finer part of the blood, and their conti-
nual wafte repaired ; and that it is by thefe animal fpirits that the
nerves perform their fun<5lions. Des Cartes has fliown how, by
thefe animal fpirits going and returning in the nerves, mufcular
motion, perception, memory, and imagination, are efFedted. All
this he has defcribed as diftindlly as if he had been an eye-witnefs
of all thofe operations. But it happens, that the tubular ftrudlure
of the nerves was never perceived by the human eye, nor fliewn
by the niceft injed^ions ; and all that has been faid about animal
fpirits through more than fifteen centuries, is mere conjetflure.

Dr Briggs, who was Sir Isaac Newton's mafler in anatomy,
was the firft, as far as I know, who advanced a new fyftem con-
cerning

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, ^c. 83

o

cerning the nerves. He conceived them to be folid filaments of CHAP. iir.
prodigious tenuity ; and this opinion, as it accords better with ob-
fervation, feems to have been miore generally received fince his
time! As to the manner of performing their office, Dr Briggs
thought, that, like mufical cords, they have vibrations differing
according to their length and tenfion. They feem, however, very
unfit for this purpofe, on account of their want of tenacity, their
moifture, and being through their whole length in contadl with
moift fubftances : So that, although Dr Briggs wrote a book up-
on this fyftem, called Nova Viftonis Theoria^ it feems not to have
been much followed.

Sir Isaac Newton, in all his philofophical writings, took great
care to diftinguifh his do(5lrines, which he pretended to prove by
juft indu(5lion, from his conjedlures, which were to ftand or fall,
according as future experiments and obfervations fliould eftabllfh
or refute them. His conjectures he has put in the form of que-
ries, that they might not be received as truths, but be enqui-
red into, and determined according to the evidence to be found
for or againft them. Thofe who miftake his queries for a
part of his do(5lrine, do him great injuftice, and degrade him to
the rank of the common herd of Philofophers, who have in all
ages adulterated philofophy, by mixing conje<flure with truth, and
their own fancies with the oracles of Nature. Among other que-
ries, this truly great Philofopher propofed this, Whether there
may not be an elaftic medium, or aether, immenfely more rare
than air, which pervades all bodies, and which is the caufe of gra-
vitation ; of the refra(flion and refledlion of the rays of light ; of
the tranfmiffion of heat, through fpaces void of air ; and of many
other phaenomena ? In the 23d query fubjoined to his Optics, he
puts this queftion, with regard to the impreffions made on the nerves
and brain in perception, Whether vifion is effeded chiefly by the
vibrations of this medivim, excited in the bottom of the eye by the
rays of light, and propagated along the folid, pellucid, and uni-
form capillaments of the optic nerve ? And whether hearing is ef-

J. 2 feded

84 E S S A Y ir.

CHAP. III.

fecfled by the vibrations of this or fbme other medium, excited by
the tremor of the air in the auditory nerves, and propagated
along the folid, pellucid, and uniform capillaments of thofe nerves?
And fo with regard to the other fenfes.

What Newton only propofed as a matter to be enquired into,
Dr Hartley conceived to have fuch evidence, that, in his Ohftr-
vations on Man^ he has deduced, in a mathematical form, a very
ample fyftem concerning the faculties of the mind, from the doc-
trine of vibrations, joined with that of aflbciation.

His notion of the vibrations, excited in the nerves, is expreflecl
in propofitions 4. and 5. of the firft part of his Obfervations on
Man. " Propofition 4. External objedls imprefled on the fenfes,
" occafion firll in the nerves on which they are imprefled, and
" then in the brain, vibrations of the fmall, and, as one may fay,
*' infinitefimal medullary particles. Prop. 5. The vibrations men-
" tioned in the laft propofition are excited, propagated, and kept
*' up, partly by the aether, that is, by a very fubtile elaftic fluid j
" partly by the uniformity, continuity, foftnefs, and a6live powers
" of the medullary fubftance of the brain, fpinal marrow, and
" nerves."

The modefty and diffidence with which Dr Hartley offers his
fyftem to the world, by defiring his reader " to expedl nothing
" but hints and conjectures in difficult and obfcure matters, and
" a fliort detail of the principal reafons and evidences in thofe that
" are clear ; by acknowledging, that he fliall not be able to execute,
*' with any accuracy, the proper method of philofophifing, recom-
" mended and followed by Sir Isaac Newton ; and that he will
" attempt a flcetch only for the benefit of future enquirers," feem
to forbid any criticifm upon it. One cannot, without reludlance,
criticife what is propofed in fuch a manner, and with fo good in-
tention ; yet, as the tendency of this fyftem of vibrations is to
make all the operations of the mind mere mechanifm, dependent

on

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, 6'c. 85

on the laws of matter and motion ; and as it has been held forth pH^^- ^'i-
by its votaries, as in a manner demonjfrated, I fhall make fome re-
marks on that part of the fyflem which relates to the impreflions
made on the nerves and brain in perception.

It may be oblerved in general, that Dr Hartley's work con-
Cfts of a chain of propofitions, with their proofs and corollaries,
digefted in good order, and in a fcientific form. A great part of
them, however, are, as, he candidly acknowledges, conjedlures and
hints only ; yet thefe are mixed with the propofitions legitimately
proved, without any diflindlion. Corollaries are drawn from them,
and other propofitions grounded upon them, which, all taken to-
gether, make up a fyflem. A fyftem of this kind refembles a chain,
of which fome links are abundantly flrong, • others very weak.
The flrength of the chain is determined by that of the weakeft
links ; for if they give way, the whole falls to pieces, and the
weight, fupported by it, falls to the ground.

Philofophy has been in all ages adulterated by hypothefcs ; that
is, by fyftems built partly on fa<5ls, and much upon conjeilure.
It is pity that a man of Dr Hartley's knowledge and candour
Ihould have followed the multitude in this fallacious traifl, after
exprefling his approbation of the proper method of philofpphifing,
pointed out by Bacon and Newton. The laft confidered it as
a reproach, when his fyftem was called his hypothefis ; and fays,
with difdain of fuch imputation, Hypolhefes non fingo. And it is
very ftrange that Dr Hartley fliould not only follow fuch a me-
thod of philofophifing himfelf, but that he fhould dirciSl others
in their enquiries to follow it. So he does in Propofition 87.
Part 1. where he deduces rules for the afcertainment of truth, from
the rule of falfe, in arithmetic, and from the art of decyphering ;
and in other places.

As to the vibrations and vibratiuncles, whether of -an elaftic
aether, or of the infinitefimal particles of the brain and nerves, there

may

86 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. III. naay ^g fuch things for what we know ; and men may rationally
enquire whether they can find any evidence of their exiftence ; but
while we have no proof of their exiftence, to apply them to the
folution of phajnomena, and to build a fyftem upon them, is, what
I conceive, we call, building a caftle in the air.

When men pretend to account for any of the operations of na-
ture, the caufes afligned by them ought, as Sir Isaac Newton
has taught us, to have two conditions, otherwife they are good for
nothing. Firjl^ They ought to be true, to have a real exiftence,
and not to be barely conjecflured to exift without proof. Secondly^
They ought to be fufficient to produce the efFedl.

As to the exiftence of vibratory motions in the medullary fub-
ftance of the nerves and brain, the evidence produced is this:
F'lrjl^ It is obferved, that the fenfations of feeing and hearing, and
fome fenfations of touch, have fome fliort duration and continu-
ance. Secondly^ Though there be no direcl evidence that the fen-
fations of tafte and fmell, and the greater part of thefe of touch,
have the like continuance; yet, fays the author, analogy would
incline one to believe that they muft refemble the fenfations of
fight and hearing in this particular. 'Thirdly, The continuance of
all our fenfations being thus eftabliflied, it follows, that external
objedls imprefs vibratory motions on the medullary fubftance of
the nerves and brain ; becaufe no motion, befides a vibratory one,
can refide in any part for a moment of time.

This is the chain of proof, in which the firft link is ftrong, being
confirmed by experience; the fecond is very weak; and the third
ftill weaker. For other kinds of motion, befides that of vibration,
may have fome continuance, fuch as rotation, bending or unbend-
ing of a fpring, and perhaps others which we are unacquainted
with ; nor do we know whether it is motion that is produced in
the nerves, it may be preflTure, attradlion, repulfion, or fomething
we do not know. This indeed is the common refuge of all hypo-

thefes.

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, t^c. 87

thefes, that we know no other way in which the phasnomena may CHAP. III.
be produced, and therefore they mufl be produced in this way.
There is therefore no proof of vibrations in the infinitdimal par-
ticles of the brain and nerves.

It may be thought that the exiflence of an elaftic vibrating jether
ftands on a firmer foundation, having the authority of Sir Isaac
Newton. But it ought to be obferved, that although this great
man had formed conjedlures about this sether near fifty years be-
fore he died, and had it in his eye during that long fpace as a fub-
je6t of enquiry ; yet it does not appear that he ever found any con-
vincing proof of its exiflence, but confidered it to the lafl as a
queftion whether there be fuch an sether or not. In the premoni-
tion to the reader, prefixed to the fecond edition of his Optics,
anno 171 7, he exprefTes himfelf thus with regard to it: " Left any
" one fhould think that I place gravity among the efTential proper-
" ties of bodies, I have fubjoined one queftion concerning its
" caufe ; a queftion, I fay, for I do not hold it as a thing efta-
" bliflied." If, therefore, we regard the authority of Sir Isaac
Newton, we ought to hold the exiftence of fuch an xther as a
matter not eftablilhed by proof, but to be examined into by expe-'
riments ; and I have never heard that, fince his time, any new
evidence has been found of its exiflence.

But, fays Dr Hartley, " fuppofing the exiflence of the aether,
*' and of its properties, to be deftitute of all dire(fk evidence, ftill,
" if it ferves to account for a great variety of phaenomena, it will
" have an indiredl evidence in its favour by this means." There
never was an hypothefis invented by an ingenious man which has
not this evidence in its favour. The Vortices of Des Cartes, the
Sylphs and Gnomes of Mr Pope, ferve to account for a great variety
of phaznomena.

When a man has, with labour and ingenuity, wrought up an hy-
pothefis into a fyflem, he contrails a fondnefs for it, which is apt

to

88> ESSAY II.

CHAP. III. to warp the befl judgment. Tliis, I humbly think, appears re-
markably in Dr Hartley. In his preface, he declares his appro-
bation of the method of philofophifing recommended and followed
by Sir Isaac Newton ; but having firft deviated from this me-
thod in his pra<flice, he is brought at laft to juflify this deviation
in theory, and to bring arguments in defence of a method diame-
trically oppolite to it. " We admit, fiiys he, the key of a cypher
*' to be a true one, when it explains the cypher completely." I an-
fvver, To find the key requires an underflanding equal or fuperior
to that which made the cypher. This inftance, therefore, will
then be in point, when he who attempts to decypher the works
of nature by an hypothefis, has an under (landing equal or fupe-
rior to that which made them. The votaries of hypothefes have
often been challenged to fliew one ufeful difcovery in the works
of nature that was ever made in that way. If inflances of this
kind could be produced, we ought to conclude that Lord Bacon
and Sir Isaac Newton have done great difTervice to philofophy,
by what they have faid againfl hypothefes. But if no fuch in-
ftance can be produced, we mufl; conclude, with thofe great men,
that every fyftem which pretends to account for the phaenomena
of nature by hypothefes or conjecflure, is fpurious and illegitimate,
and ferves only to flatter the pride of man with a vain conceit of
knowledge which he has not attained.

The author tells us, " that any hypothefis that has fo much
" plaufibility as to explain a confiderable number of fa<5ls, helps
" us to digefl thefe fafls in proper order, to bring new ones to light,
" and to make experimenta cruets for the fake of future enquirers."

Let hypothefes be put to any of thefe ufes as far as they can
ferve. Let them fuggeft experiments, or dircd our enquiries j but
let juft indudion alone govern our belief.

" The rule of falfe affords an obvious and ftrong inftance of
" the poffibility of being led, with precifion and certainty, to a

" true

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, ^c. Bo

*' true conclufion from a falfe pofition. And it is of the very eC- CHAP, ijr.
" fence of algebra, to proceed in the way of fuppofition."

This is true ; but, when brought to juftlfy the accounting for
natural phsenomena by hypothefes, is foreign to the purpofe.
When an unknown number, or any unknown quantity is fought,
which mufl have certain conditions, it may be found in a fcienti-
fie manner by the rule of falfe, or by an algebraical analyfis ; and,
when found, may be fynthetically demonftrated to be the number
or the quantity fought, by its anfwering all the conditions re-
quired. But it is one thing to find a quantity which fhall have
certain conditions ; it is a very different thing to find out the laws
by which it pleafes God to govern the world and produce the
phaenomena which fall under our obfervation. And we can then
only allow fome weight to this argument in favour of hypothefes,
when it can be fhewn that the caufe of any one phaenomenon in
nature has been, or can be found, as an unknown quantity is, by
the rule of falfe, or by algebraical analyfis. This, I apprehend,
will never be, till the sera arrives, which Dr Hartley feems to
foretell, " When future generations fhall put all kinds of evidences
V and enquiries into mathematical forms ; and, as it were, reduce
" Aristotle's ten Categories, and Bifhop Wilkin's forty Sunima
*' Genera to the head of quantity alone, fo as to make mathematics,
** and logic, natural hiftory, and civil hiftory, natural philofo-
*' phy, and philofophy of all other kinds coincide omni ex parte"

Since Sir Isaac Newton laid down the rules of philofophifing
in our enquiries into the works of Nature, many Phifofophcrs have
deviated from them in pradlice ; perhaps few have paid that re-
gard to them which they deferve. But they have met with very
general approbation, as being founded in reafon, and pointing out
the only path to the knowledge of Nature's works. Dr Hartley
is the only author I have met with who reafbns againfl them, and
has taken pains to find out argviments in defence of the exploded
method of hypothefis.

M Another

90 ESSAY II.

CHAP. in. Another condition which Sir Isaac Newton requires in the
caufes of natural things affigned by Philofophers, is, that they be
fufEcient to account for the pha^nomena. Vibrations, and vibra-
tiuncles of the medullary fubftance of the nerves and brain, are
^fligned by Dr Hartley to account for all our fenfations and
ideas, and, in a word, for all the operations of our minds. Let us
confider very briefly how far they ai'e fufficient for that pur-
pofe.

It would be injuflice to this author to conceive him a Mate-
rialift. He propofes his fentiments with great candour, and they
ought not to be carried beyond what his words exprels. He thinks
it a confequence of his theory, that matter, if it can be endued with
the moft fimple kinds of fenfation, might arrive at all that intelli-
gence of which the human mind is pofTefled. He thinks that hia
theory overturns all the arguments that are ufually brought for
the immateriality of the foul, from the fubtilty of the internal
fenfes, and of the rational faculty ; but he does not take upon him
to determine whether matter can be endued with fenfation or no.
He even acknowledges, that matter and motion, however fubtilly
divided and reafoned upon, yield nothing more than matter and
motion ftill ; and therefore he would not be any way interpreted'
fo as to oppofe the immateriality of the foul.

It would, therefore, be unreafonable to require that his theory
of vibrations flaould, in the proper fenfe, account for our fenfations.
It would, indeed, be ridiculous in any man to pretend that thought
of any kind muft neceflarily refult from motion, or that vibrations
in the nerves muft neceflarily produce thought, any more than
the vibrations of a pendulum. Dr Hartley difclaims this way
of thinking, and therefore it ought not to be imputed to him.
All that he pretends is, that, in the human conftitution, there is
a certain connecSlion between vibrations in the medullary fubftance
of the nerves and brain, and the thoughts of the mind ; fo that
the laft depend entirely upon the firft, and every kind of thought

m

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, ^c. 91

in the mind arifes in confequence of a correfponding vibration, or chap. iir.
vibratiuncle in the nerves and brain. Our fenfations arife from
vibrations, and our ideas from vibratiuncles, or miniature vibra-
tions; and he comprehends, under thefe two words of /en/ai ions
and Ueasy all the operations of the mind.

But how can we expedl any proof of the conne6lion between vi-
brations and thought, when the exiftence of fuch vibrations was
never proved. The proof of their connedlion cannot be ftronger
than the proof of their exiftence : For as the author acknowledges,
that we cannot infer the exiftence of the thoughts from the exift-
ence of the vibrations, it is no lefs evident, that we cannot infer
the exiftence of vibrations from the exiftence of our thoughts.
The exiftence of both muft be known before we can know their
connedlion. As to the exiftence of our thoughts, we have the evi-
dence of confcioufnefs ; a kind of evidence that never was called
in queftion. But as to the exiftence of vibrations in the medul-
lary fubftance of the nerves and brain, no proof has yet been
brought.

All therefore we have to expedl from this hypothefis, is, that, in
vibrations confidered abftra(5lly, there fhould be a variety in kind
and degree, which tallies fb exa<^ly with the varieties of the
thoughts they arc to account for, as may lead us to fufped fome
conne<5lion between the one and the other. If the divifions and
fubdivifions of thought be found to run parallel with the divifions
and fubdivifions of vibrations, this would give that kind of plau-
fibility to the hypothefis of their connexion, which we commonly
expec^l even in a mere hypothefis ; but we do not find even this.

For, to omit all thofe thoughts and operations which the author
comprehends under the name of tdcasy and which he thinks are
connedled with vibratiuncles ; to omit the perception of external
objeds, which he comprehends under the name of fenfations ; to
omit the fenfations, properly fo called, which accompany our paC-

M 2 fions

92 ESSAY 11.

CHAP. in. fions and affe<5lions, and to confine ourfelves to the fenfations
which we have by means of our external fenlcs, we can perceive
no correfpondence between the variety we find in their kinds and
degrees, and that which may be fuppofed in vibrations.

We have five fenfes, whofe fenfations differ totally in kind.
By each of thefe, excepting perhaps that of hearing, we have a
variety of fenfations, which differ fpecifically, and not in degree
only. How many taftes and fmells are there which are fpecifically
different, each of them capable of all degrees of tlrength and
weaknefs? Heat and cold, roughnefs and fmoothnefs, hardnefs and
foftnefs, pain and pleafure, are fenfations of touch that differ in
kind, and each has an endlefs variety of degrees. Sounds have
the qualities of acute and grave, loud and low, with all different
degrees of each. The varieties of colour are many more than we
have names to exprefs. How fhall we find varieties in vibrations
correfponding to all this variety of fenfations which we have by
our five fenfes only ? ;

I know two qualities of vibrations in an uniform elaflic me-
dium, and I know no more. They may be quick or flow in va-
rious degrees, and they may be ftrong or weak in various degrees ;
but I cannot find any divifion of our fenfations that will make
them tally with thofe divifions of vibrations. If we had no other
fenfations but thofe of hearing, the theory would anfwer well ;
for founds are either acute or grave, which may anfwer to quick
or flow vibrations ; or they are loud or low, which anfwer to
' ftrong or weak vibrations. But then we have no variety of vibra-

tions correfponding to the immenfe variety of fenfations which we
have by fight, fmell, tafte, and touch.

Dr Hartley has endeavoured to find out other two qualities
of vibrations ; to wit, that they may primarily affedl one part of
the brain or another, and that they may vary in their dire(5lion,.
according as they enter by different external nerves ; but thefe

feem

HYPOTHESES CONCERNING THE NERVES, l^c. 93

leem to be added to make a number : Foi*, as far as we know, vi- CHAP. IIT.
brations in an uniform elaftic fubflance fpread over the whole,
and in all diredlions. However, that we may be liberal, we
fhall grant him four different kinds of vibrations, each of them
having as many degrees as he pleafes. Can he or any man reduce
all our fenfations to four kinds ? We have five fenfes, and by each
of them a variety of fenfations, more than fufficient to exhauft all
the varieties we are able to conceive in vibrations.

Dr Hartley, indeed, was fenfible of the difficulty of finding
vibrations to fuit all the variety of our fenfations. His extenfive
knowledge of phyfiology and pathology could yield him but a
feeble aid ; and therefore he is often reduced to the neceffity of
heaping fuppofition upon fuppofition, conjedlure upon conjedlure,
to give fome credibility to his hypothefis ; and, in feeking out vi-
brations which may correfpond with the fenfations of one fenfe,
he leems to forget that thofe mufl be omitted which have been ap-
propriated to another.

Philofophers have accounted in fome degree for our various fen-
fations of found, by the vibrations of elaftic air. But it is to be
obferved,^/y?, That we know that fuch vibrations do really exift j
and, fecondly^ That they tally exadly with the moft remarkable
phaenomena of found. We cannot, indeed, fhow how any vi-
bration fhould produce the fentation of found. This muft be re-
folved into the will of God, or into fome caufe altogether un-
known. But we know, that as the vibration is ftrong or weak, the
found is loud or low. We know, that as the vibration is quick or
flow, the found is acute or grave. We can point out that relation
of fynchronous vibrations which produces harmony or difcord, and
that relation of fucceffive vibrations which produces mefody : And
all this is not conjedlured, but proved by a fufficient indudlion. This
account of founds, therefore, is philofophical ; although, perhaps,
there may be many things relating to found that we cannot account
for, and of which the caufes remain latent. The conne(5lions defcribed

ia

9+

ESSAY II.

CHAP.m. in this branch of philofophy are the work of God, and not the
fancy of mea.

If any thing (imilar to this could be fhown in accounting for
all our fenfations by vibrations in the medullary fubftance of the
nerves and brain, it would deferve a place in found philofophy.
But, when we are told of vibrations in a fubftance, which no man
could ever prove to have vibrations, or to be capable of them ;
when fuch imaginary vibrations are brought to account for all our
fenfations, though we can perceive no correfpondence in their va-
riety of kind and degree to the variety of fenfations, the connec-"
tions defcribed in fuch a fyftem are the creatures of human ima-
gination, not the work of God.

The rays of light make an imprefllon upon the optic nerves ; but
they make none upon the auditory or olfa(5lory. The vibrations
of the air make an impreflion upon the auditory nerves ; but none
\ipon the optic or the olfa(5lory. The effluvia of bodies make an
imprefllon upon the olfacftory nerves ; but make none upon the
optic or auditory. No man has been able to give a fhadow of rea-
fon for this. While this is the cafe, is it not better to confefs our
ignorance of the nature of thofe imprefllons made upon the nerves
and brain in perception, than to flatter our pride with the conceit
.of knowledge which we have not, and to adulterate philofophy with
the fpurious brood of hypothefes ?

CHAP. IV.

Falfe Conclufions drawn from the ImpreJJions before mentioned.

SOME Philofophers among the ancients, as well as among the
moderns, imagined that man is nothing but a piece of matter fo
curioufly organifed, that the imprefllons of external objeds produce
in it fenfation, perception, remembrance, and all the other opera-
tions

FALSE CONCLUSIONS, 6v. 95

tlons we are confcious of. This foolifh opinion could only take its CHAP. IV.
rife from obferving the conftant conne<5lion which the Author of
Nature hath eftablilhed between certain imprefTions made upon our
fenfes, and our perception of the objedls by which the impreffion
is made ; from which they weakly inferred, that thofe impreffions
were the proper efficient caufes of the correfponding perception.

But no reafoning is more fallacious than this, that becaufe two
things are always conjoined, therefore one muft be the caufe of
the other. Day and night have been joined in a conftant fucceffion
fince the beginning of the world ; but who is fo foolilh as to con-
clude from this, that day is the caufe of night, or night the caufe
of the following day ? There is indeed nothing more ridiculous
than to imagine that any motion or modification of matter fliould
produce thought.

If one Ihould tell of a telelcope Co exacJlly made as to have the
power of feeing ; of a whifpering gallery that had the power of
hearing ; of a cabinet fo nicely framed as to have the power of me-
mory; or of a machine fo delicate as ta feel pain when it was
touched; fuch abfurdities are fo fhocking to common fenfe that
they would not find belief even among favages ; yet it is the fame
abfurdity to think that the impreffions of external objedls upon the
machine of our bodies, can be the real efficient caufe of thought
and perception.

Faffing this therefore as a notion too abfurd to admit of reafon*-
ing ; another conclufion very generally made by Philofophers, is».
that in perception an impreffion is made upon the mind as well as
upon the organ, nerves, and brain. Aristotle, as was before
obferved, thought that the form or image of the objedV perceived,
enters by the organ of fenfe, and ftrikes upon the mind. Mr Hume
gives the name of impreffions to all ovir perceptions, to all our
. fenfations, and even to the objcdls which we perceive. Mr Locke
affirms very poficively, that th§ ideas of external objeds are produ-
ced

96 E S S A Y II.

CHAi'. ^v. ced In our minds by impulfe, " that being the only way we can
" conceive bodies to operate in." It ought, however, to be ob-
ferved, in juftice to Mr Locke, that he retradled this notion in his
firft letter to the Bilhop of Worcester, and promifed in the
next edition of his Eflay to have that paffage recflified ; but either
from forgetfulnefs in the author, or negligence in the printer, the
paiTage remains in all the fubfequent editions I have feea.

There is no prejudice more natural to man, than to conceive of
the mind as having Ibme fimilitude to body in its operations.
Hence men have been prone to imagine, that as bodies are put in
motion by fome impulfe or impreffion made upon them by conti-
guous bodies ; fo the mind is made to think and to perceive by
fome impreflion made upon it, or fome impulfe given to it by
contiguous objedls. If we have fuch a notion of the mind as
Homer had of his gods, who might be bruifed or wounded with
fwords and fpears, we may then underftand what is mieant by im-
preffions made upon it by a body : But if we conceive the mind to
be immaterial, of which I think we have very ftrong proofs, we
fliall find it difficult to affix a meaning to imprejjtons made upon it.

There is a figurative meaning of impreffions on the mind which
is well authorifed, and of which we took notice in the obfervations
made on that word ; but this meaning applies only to objedls that
are interefting. To fay that an objedl which I fee with perfe<5t
indifference makes an impreffion upon my mind, is not, as I ap-
prehend, good Englifli. If Philofophers mean no more but that
I fee the objedl, why fliould they invent an improper phrafe to
exprefs what every man knows how to exprefs in plain Englifh ?

But it is evident, from the manner in which this phrafe is ufed
by modern Philofophers, that they mean not barely to exprels by
it, my perceiving an objedl, but to explain the manner of perception.
They think that the objedl perceived ads upon the mind, in fome
way fimilar to that in which one body ads upon another, by ma-
king

FALSE CONCLUSIONS, y.-. 97

king an Impreffion upon it. The Impreflion upon the mind is con-
ceived to be fomething wherein the mind is altogether paffive, and
has fome efFedl produced in it by the objedl. But this is a hypo-
thefis which contradicts the common fenfe of mankind, and which
ought not to be admitted without proof.

When I look upon the wall of my room, the wall does not a(5l
at all, nor is capable of adling ; the perceiving it is an adl or ope-
ration in me. That this is the common apprehenfion of mankind
with regard to perception, is evident from the manner of exprefling
it in all languages.

The vulgar give themfelves no trouble how they perceive objects,
they exprefs what they are confcious of, and they exprefs it with
propriety ; but Philofophers have an avidity to know how we per-
ceive objedls ; and conceiving fome iimilitude between a body that
is put in motion, and a mind that is made to perceive, they are
led to think, that as the body mufl receive fome impulfe to make
it move, fo the mind muft receive fome impulfe or impreflion to
make it perceive. This analogy feems to be confirmed, by obfer-
ving that we perceive objed;s only when they make fome impref-
fion upon the organs of fenfe, and upon the nerves and brain ; but
it ought to be obferved, that fuch is the nature of body that it
cannot change its ftate, but by fome force imprefled upon it. This
is not the nature of mind. All that we know about it fhows it to
be in its nature living and adlive, and to , have the power of per-
ception in its conflitution, but dill within thofe limits to which it
is confined by the laws of Nature.

It appears, therefore, that this phrafe of the mind's having im-
preflions made upon it by corporeal objedts in perception, is either
a phrafe without any diftin<Sl meaning, and contrary to the pro-
priety of the EnglHh language, or it is grounded upon an hypothefis
which is deftitute of proof. On that account, though we grant
tliat in perception there is an impreffion made upon the organ of

N fenfe,

CHAP. IV.

98 E S S A Y II.

CHAP, iv.^ fenfe, and upon the nerves and brain, we do not admit that the
obje(5l makes any impreflion upon the mind.

There is another conclufion drawn from the impreflions made
upon the brain in perception, which I conceive to have no folid
foundation, though it has been adopted very generally by Philofo-
phers. It is, that by the impreflions made on the brain, images
are formed of the obje(5l perceived ; and that the mind, being-
feated in the brain as its chamber of prefence, immediately per-
ceives thofe images only, and has no perception of the external
objedl but by them. This notion of our perceiving external ob-
jedls, not immediately, but in certain images or fpecies of them
conveyed by the fenfes, feems to be the mod ancient philofophical
hypothefis we have on the fubjedl of perception, and to have with
fmall variations retained its authority to this day.

Aristotle, as was before obferved, maintained, that the fpecies,
images or forms of external obje«fls, coming from the objedl, are
imprcfled on the mind. The followers of Democritus and Epi-
curus held the fame thing, with regard to flender films of fubtile
matter coming from the objedt, that Aristotle did with regard
to his immaterial fpecies or forms.

Aristotle thought every objedt of human underftanding enters-
at firft by the fenfes ; and that the notions got by them are by the
powers of the mind refined and fpiritualized, fo as at laft to be-
come objed^s of the moft fublime and abftraded fciences. Plato,
on the other hand, had a very mean opinion of all the knowledge
we get by the fenfes. He thought it did not deferve the name of
knowledge, and could not be the foundation of fcience ; becaufe
the objedls of fenfe are individuals only, and are in a conftant
flu(5tuation. All fcience, according to him, mufl be employed
about thofe eternal and immutable ideas, which exifted before the
obje6ts of fenfe, and are not liable to any change. In this there
was an eflential difference between the fyftems of thefe two Philo-

fophers..

FALSE CONCLUSIONS, e£ff. 99

fbphersf The notion of eternal and immutable iddas, which Plato chap. iv.
borrowed from the Pythagorean fchool, was totally rejecfled by
Aristotle, who held it as a maxim, that there is nothing in the
intelledl, which was not at firft in the fenfes.

But, notwithftanding this great difference in thofe two ancient
fyftems, they might both agree as to the manner in which we per-
ceive objedls by our fenfes : And that they did fo, I think, is pro-
bable; becaufe Aristotle, as far as I know, neither takes notice
of any difference between himfelf and his mafler upon this point,
nor lays claim to his theory of the manner of our perceiving objedls
as his own invention. It is flill more probable from the hints
which Plato gives in the feventh book of his Republic, concern-
ing the manner in which we perceive the objedts of fenfe ; which
he compares to perfons in a deep and dark cave, who fee not ex-
ternal objedls themfelves but only their fhadows, by a light let into
the cave through a fmall opening.

It feems, therefore, probable that the Pythagoreans and Platonifls
agreed with the Peripatetics in this general theory of perception ;
to wit, that the objects of fenfe are perceived only by certain images,
or fhadows of them, let into the mind, as into a camera obfcura.

The notions of the ancients were very various with regard to the
feat of the foul. Since it has been difcovered, by the improvements
in anatomy, that the nerves are the inftruments of perception, and
of the fenfations accompanying it, and that the nerves ultimately
terminate in the brain, it has been the general opinion of Philofo^
phers that the brain is the feat of the foul ; and that flie perceives
the images that are brought there, and external things only by
means of them. •

Des Cartes, obferving that the pineal gland is the oi\ly part
of the brain that is fingle, all the other parts being double, and
thinking that the foul muft have one feat, was determined by this

N 2 to

lOO

ESSAY II.

•CHAP.rv.^ to make that gland the foul's habitation, to which, by means of
the animal fpirits, intelligence is brought of all objeds that afFed^
the fenles.

Others have not thought proper to confine the habitation of the
foul to the -pineal gland, but to the brain in general, or to fome
part of it, which they call xhc fenforium. Even the great Newton
favoured this opinion, though he propofes it only as a query, with
that modefty which diftinguiflied him no lefs than his great ge-
nius. " Is not, fays he, the fenforium of animals the place where
" the fentient fubftance is prefent, and to which the fenfible fpe-
** cies of things are brought through the nerves and brain, that
" there they may be perceived by the mind prefent in that place?
*• And is there not an incorporeal, living, intelligent, and omni-
" prefent Being, who, in infinite fpace, as if it were in his fenfo-
*' rium, intimately perceives things themfelves, and comprehends
" them perfedlly, as being prefent to them ; of which things, that
" principle in us, which perceives and thinks, difcerns only, ia
" its little fenforium, the images brought to it through the organs
« of the fenfes ?"

His great friend Dr Samuel Clarke adopted the fame fentiment
with more confidence. In his papers to Leibnitz, we find the fol-
lowing paflages : " Without being prefent to the images of the
" things perceived, it (the foul) could not poflibly perceive them»
" A living fubftance can only there perceive where it is prefent,
** either to the things themfelves, (as the omniprefent God is to
" the whole univerfe), or to the images of things, (as the foul of
" man is in its proper fenfory). Nothing can any more adl, or
" be adled upon, where it is not prefent, than it can be where it
" is not. We are fure the foul cannot perceive what it is not pre-
" fent to, becaufe nothing can a€t, or be a(5ted upon, where it
" is not."

Mr Locke exprefles himfelf fo upon this point, that, for the

mott

il

FALSE CONCLUSIONS, Sjfr. loi

mofl part, one would imagine, that he thought that the ideas, or CHAF. iv.
images, of things, which he believed to be the immediate obje(5ls
of perception, are impreffions upon the mind itfclf ; yet, in fome
paflages, he rather places them in the brain, and makes them to be
perceived by the mind there prcfent. " There are fome ideas, fays
*' he, which have admittance only through one fenfe ; and . if the
organs or the nerves, which are the conduits to convey them
" from without to their audience in the brain, the mind's prefence
" room, if I may fo call it, are fo difordered as not to perform
'* their funcflion,- they have no poftern to be admitted bV,

" There feems to be a conftant decay of all our ideas, even of
" thofe that -are ftrnck deepeft. The pixflures drawn in our minds
" are laid in fading colours. Whether the temper of the brain
" makes this difference, that in fome it retains the charadlers
" drawn on it like marble, in others like free-flione, and in others
" little better than fand, I Ihall not enquire."

From thefe paffages of Mr Locke, arid others of a like nature,
it is plain, that he thought that there ^re images of external ob-
jcdls conveyed to the brain. But whether he thought with Des
Cartes and Newton, that the images in the brain are perceived
by the mind there prefent, or that they are imprinted on the mind
kfelf, is not fo evident.

Now, with regard to this hypothefis, there afe three things that
deferve to be confidered, becaufe the hypothefis leans upon them j
and, if any one of them fail, it muft fall to the ground. The Jir/f
is. That the foul has its feat, or, as Mr Locke calls it, its prefence
room in the brain. The fecond^ That there are images formed
in the brain of all the objecfls of fenfe. The thirds That the mind
or foul perceives thefe images in the brain ; and that it perceives
not external objects immediately, but only perceives them by
means of thofe images.

As

102 ESSAY 11.

^^^^i As to (ktjlrji point, that the foul has its feat in the brain, this,
furely, is not fo well eftablifhed, as that we can fafely build other
principles upon it. There have been various opinions and much
difputation about the place of fpirits ; whether they have a place ?
and if they have, how they occupy that place ? After men had
fought in the dark about thofe points for ages, the wifer part feem
to have left off dlfputing about thenx, as matters beyond the reach
of the human faculties.

As to ^tfecond point, that images of all the objedls of fenfe are
formed in the brain, we may venture to affirm, that there is no
proof nor probability of this, with regard to any of the objedls
of fenfe ; and that with regard to the greater part of them, it is
words without any meaning.

"We have not the leaft evidence that the image of any external
objedl is formed in the brain. The brain has been difTejSled times
innumerable by the niceft Anatomifts ; every part of it examined
by the naked eye, and with the help of micro (copes ; but no veftige
of an image of any external objedl was ever found. The brain
feems to be the mod improper fubftance that can be imagined for
receiving or retaining images, being a foft moill medullary fub-
ftance.

But how are thefe images formed ? or whence do they come ?
Says Mr Locke, the organs of fenfe and nerves convey them from
without. This is juft the Ariftotelian hypothefis of fenfible fpe-
cies, which modern Philofophers hav£ been at great pains to re-
fute, and which muft be acknowledged to be one of the moft un-
intelligible j>arts of the Peripatetic fyftem. Thofe who confider fpe-
cies of colour, figure, found, and fmell, coming from the objecfV,
and entering by the organs of fenfe, as a part of the fcholaflic jar-
gon, long ago difcarded from found philofophy, ought to have dif-
carded images in the brain along with them. There never was a
fli,adow of argument brought by any author, to fhow that an

image

FALSE CONCLUSIONS, es'^. 103

image of any external objedl ever entered by any of the organs of ,^^^^ ^^•.
fenfe.

That external objedls make feme impreflion on the organs of
fenfe, and by them on the nerves and brain, is granted ; but that
thofe impreflions refemble the objedls they are made by, fo as that
they may be called images of the objefls, is moft improbable.
Every hypothecs that has been contrived fhews that there can be
no fuch refemblance ; for neither the motions of animal fpirits,
nor the vibrations of elaftic chords, or of elaftic aether, or of the
infinitefimal particles of the nerves, can be fuppofed to refemble the
objecls by which they are excited.

We know, that, in vifion, an image of the vifible obje<fl is form-
ed in the bottom of the eye by the rays of light. But we know
alfo, that this image cannot be conveyed to the brain, becaufe the
optic.nerve, and all the parts that furround it, are opaque and im-
pervious to the rays of light ; and there is no other organ of fenfe
in which any image of the objedl is formed.

It is farther to be obferved, that, with regard to fome objecSls of
fenfe, we may underftand what is meant by an image of them im-
printed on the brain ; but, with regard to moft objeds of fenfe,
the phrafe is abfolutely unintelligible, and conveys no meaning at
all. As to objedls of fight, I underftand what is meant by aa
image of their figure in the brain : But how flTall we conceive an
image of their colour where there is abfolute darknefs ? And as to
all other objedls of fenfe, except figure and colour, I am unable to
conceive what is meant by an image of thent Let any man fay,
what he means by an image of heat and cold, an image of hard-
nefs or foftnefs, an image of found, or fmell, or tafte. The word
hna^e, when applied to thefe objects of fenfe, has abfolutely no
meaning. Upon what a weak foundation, then, does this hypo-
thefis ftand, when it fuppofes, that images of all the objects of fenfe

are

104

ESSAY II.

CHAP. IV. ^,c imprinted on the brain, being conveyed thither by the conduits
of the organs and nerves.

The third point in this liypothefis, is, That the mind perceives
the images in the brain, and external objedls only by means of
them. This is as improbable, as that there are fuch images to be
perceived. If otrr powers of perception be not altogether fallaci-
ous, the objecfls we perceive are not in our brain, but without us.
We are fo far from perceiving images in the brain, that we do not
perceive our brain at all ; nor would any man ever have known
that he had a brain, if anatomy had not difcovered, by difletflion,
that the brain is a conftituent part of the human body.

To fum up what has been faid with regard to the organs of per-
ception, and the impreffions made upon our nerves and brain. It
is a law of our nature, eftabliftied by the will of the Supreme
Being, that we perceive no external objecfl but by means of the
organs given us for that purpofe. But thefe organs do not perceive.
The eye is the organ of fight, but it fees not. A telefcope is au
artificial organ of fight. The eye is a natural organ of fight,
but it fees as little as the' telefcope- We know how the eye forms
a pidlure of the vifible obje(5l upon the retina; but how this pi<flure
makes us fee the objecl we know not ; and if experience had not
informed us that fuch a pi(flure is neceflary to vifion, we fhould
never have known it. We can give no reafon why the picture on
the retina fliould be followed by vifion, while a like picture on
any other part of the body produces nothing like vifion.

It is likewife a law* of our nature, that we perceive not external
objedls, unlefs certain impreffions be made by the objedl upon the
organ, and by means of the organ upon the nerves and brain. But .
of the nature of thofe Impreffions we are perfedlly ignorant ; and
though they are conjoined with perception by the will of our
Maker, yet it does not appear that they have any necelTary con-
nexion with it in their own nature, far lefs that they can be the

proper

O F P E R C E P T I O N. 105

proper efficient caufe of it. We perceive, becaufe God has given CHAP, v.
us the power of perceiving, and not becaufe we have imprefhons
from objecfts. We perceive nothing without thofe impreflions, be-
caufe our Maker has Hmited and circumfcribed our powers of per-
ception, by fuch laws of Nature as to his wifdom feemed meet,
and fuch as fuited our rank in his creation.

C H A P. V.

Of Perception.

IN fpeaking of the impreflions made on our organs in perception,
we build upon fa(5ls borrowed from anatomy and phyfiology,
for which we have the teflimony of our fenfes. But being now
to fpeak of perception itfelf, which is folely an adl of the mind,
we muft appeal to another authority. The operations of our minds
are known not by fenfe, but by confcioufnefs, the authority of
which is as certain and as irrefiflible as that of fenfe.

In order, however, to our having a difl:in(5t notion of any of the
operations of our own minds, it is not enough that we be confcious
of them, for all men have this confcioufnefs : It is farther neceflary
that we attend to them while they are exerted, and refledl upon
them with care, while they are recent and frefh in our memory.
It is necelTary that, by employing ourfelves frequently in this way,
we get the habit of this attention and refle(5lion ; and therefore,
for the proof of fadls which I fliall have occafion to mention upon
this fubje(5l, I can only appeal to the reader's own thoughts, whe-
ther fuch fadls are not agreeable to what he is confcious of in his
own mind.

If, therefore, we attend to that a6l of our mind which we call
the perception of an external objed: of fenfe, we fliall find in it

O thefe

io6 E S S A Y n.

CHAP, v.^ thcfe three things. Firjl^ Some conception or notion of the objedl
perceived. Secondly, A ftrong and irrefiflible convidlion and belief
of its prefent exiftence. And, thirdly, That this conviction and
belief are immediate, and not the efifedl of reafoning.

F'lrjl, It is impoiTible to perceive an obje^ without having fome.
notion or conception of that which we perceive. We may indeed
conceive an obje(fl which we do not perceive ; but when we per-
ceive the object, we muft have fome conception of it at the fame
time ; and we have commonly a more clear and fteady notion of
the objedl while we perceive it, than we have from memory or
imagination when it is not perceived. Yet, even in perception,
the notion which our fenfes give of the objedl may be more or lefs
clear, more or lefs diftindl, in all pofllble degrees.

Thus we fee more diflin^dlly an obje(fl at a fmall than at a great
diftance. An obje(5t at a great diftance is k&n more diftindlly in
a clear than in a foggy day. An objecfl feen indiftindlly with the
naked eye, on account of its fmallnefs, may be feen diflindtly with
a microfcope. The objedls in this room will be feen by a perfon
in the room lefs and lefs diftindlly as the light of the day fails ;
they pafs through all the various degrees of diftindlnefs according
to the degrees of the light, and at lafl, in total darknefs, they are
not feen at all. What has been faid of the objedls of fight is fb
eafily applied to the objedls of the other fenfes, that the application
may be left to the reader.

In a matter fo obvious to every perfon capable of refledlion, it
is necefTary only farther to obferve, that the notion which we get
of an objedt, merely by oiir external fenfe, ought not to be con-
founded with that more fcientific notion which a man, come to
the years of tinderftanding, may have of the fame objedl, by at-
tending to its various attributes, or to its various parts, and their
relation to each other, and to the whole. Thus the notion which
a child has of a jack for roalling meat, will be acknowledged to be

very

OF PERCEPTION. 107

very different from that of a man who underftands its conflruclion, CHAP. V.

and perceives the relation of the parts to one another, and to the

whole. The child fees the jack and every part of it as well as the

man: The child, therefore, has all the notion of it which fight

gives ; whatever there is more in the notion which the man forms

of it, mud be derived from other powers of the mind, which may

afterwards be explained. This obfervation is made here only,

that we may not confound the operations of different powers of

the mind, which, by being always conjoined after we grow up to

underftanding, are apt to pafs for one and the fame.

Secondly f In perception we not only have a notion more or lefs
<lifl:in<5l of the objedl perceived, but alfo an irrefiftible convidlion
and belief of its exiftence. This is always the cafe when we are
certain that we perceive it. There may be a perception fo faint
and indiftincfl, as to leave us in doubt whether we perceive the
bbjedl or not. Thus, when a ftar begins to twinkle as the light
of the fun withdraws, one may, for a fliort time, think he fees it,
without being certain, until the perception acquires fome Itrength
and fteadinefs. When a fhip juft begins to appear in the utmoft
verge of the horizon, we may at iirfl be dubious whether we per-
ceive it or not : But when the perception is in any degree clear and
fteady, there remains no doubt of its reality ; and when the reality
of the perception is afcertained, the exiftence of the objedl perceived
can no longer be doubted.

By the laws of all nations, in the moft folemn judicial trials
wherein mens fortunes aixl lives are at ftake, the fentence paffes
according to the teftimony of eye or ear witneffefi of good credit.
An upright judge will give a fair hearing to every objection that
can be made to the integrity of a witnefs, and allow it to be pof-
fible that he may be corrupted ; but no judge will ever fuppofe,
that witneffes may be impofed upon by trufting to their eyes and
ears : And if a fceptical counfel fliould plead againft the teftimony
t>f the witneffes, that they had no other evidence for what they

O 2 .declared,

,o8 ESSAY ir.

CHAP. V. declared, but the tcftimony of their eyes and ears, and that we ought
not to put ib much faith in our fenfes, as to deprive men of hfe
or fortune upon their teftimony; furely no upright judge would
admit a plea of this kind. I believe no counfel, however fceptical,
ever dared to offer fuch an argument ; and, if it was offered, it
would be reje(5led with difdain.

Can any Wronger proof be given, that it is the univerfal judg-
ment of mankind that the evidence of fenfe is a kind of evidence
which we may fecurely reft upon in the mofk momentous concerns
of mankind : That it is a kind of evidence againfl: which we
ought not to admit any reafoning ; and therefore, that to reafon
either for or againft it is an infuk to common fenfc ?

• The whole condu(5l of mankind, in the daily occurrences of life,
as well as the folemn procedure of judicatories in the trial of
caufes civi> and criminal, demonftrates this. I know only of two
exceptions that may be oifcred againft this being the univerfal be-
lief of mankind.

The firft exception is that of fome lunatics who have been per-
fuaded of things that feem to contradidl the clear teftimony of their
fenfes. It is faid there have been lunatics and hypochondriacal per-
fons, who ferioufly believed themfelves to be made of glafs ; and,
in confequence of this, lived in continual terror of having their
brittle frame fliivered into pieces.

All I have to fay to this is, that our minds, in our prefent ftate,
are, as well as our bodies, liable to ftrange diforders ; and as we
do not judge of the natural conftitution of the body, from the dif^
orders or difeafes to which it is fubjedl from accidents, fo neither
ought we to judge of the natural powers of the mind from its
diforders, but from its found ftate. It is natural to man, and
common to the fpecies, to have two hands and two feet ; yet I have
feen a man, and a very ingenious one, who Was born without

cither

OFPERCEPTION. 109

eithei* hands or feet. It is natural to man to have faculties fuperior CHAP, v.
to thofe of brutes ; yet we fee fome individuals, whofe faculties are
not equal to thofe of many brutes ; and the w^ifeft man may, by
various accidents, be reduced to this flate. General rules that re-
gard thofe virhofe intelledls are found, are not overthrown by in-
ftances of men whofe intelle(5ls are hurt by any conftitutional or
accidental diforder.

The other exception that may be made to the principle we have
laid down, is that of fome Philofophers who have maintained, that
the tcftimony of fenfe is fallacious, and therefore ought never to
be trufted. Perhaps it might be a fuflScient anfwer to this to fay,
that there is nothing fo abfurd which fome Philofophers have not
maintained. It is one thing to profefs a dodlrine of this kind,
another ferioufly to believe it, and to be governed by it in the
condu(5l of life. It is evident, that a man who did not believe his
fenfes could not keep out of harm's way an hour of his life ; yet,
in all the hiftory of philofophy, we never read of any fceptic that
ever ftepped into fire or water becaufe he did not believe his fenfes,
or that Ihowed in the conduct of life, lefs truft in his fenfes than
other men have. This gives us juft ground to apprehend, that
philofophy was never able to conquer that natural belief which
men have in their fenfes ; and that all their fubtile reafonlngs
againft this belief were never able to perfuade themfelves.

It appears, therefore, that the clear and diftindl teftimony of our
fenfes carries irrefiftible convidlion along with it, to every man in
his right judgment.

I obferved, thirdly. That this conviiSlion is not only irrefiftible,
but it is immediate ; that is, it is not by a train of reafoning and
argumentation that we come to be convinced of the exiftence of
what we perceive ; we afk no argument for the exiftence of the
objedl, but that we perceive it ; perception commands our belief

upon

no

ESSAY II.

CHAP. V. upon its own authority, and difdains to reft its authority upon any
reafoning whatfoever.

The convi(5lion of a truth may be irreilftible, and yet not ira-
xnediate. Thus my convi(5lion that the three angles of every plain
triangle are equal to two right angles, is irrefiftible, but it is not
immediate : I am convinced of it by demonftrative reafoning.
There are other truths in mathematics of which we have not only
an irrefiftible, but an immediate convi(5lion. Such are the axioms.
Our belief of the axioms in mathematics is not grounded upon ar-
gument. Arguments are grounded upon them, but their evidence
is difcerned immediately by the human underftanding.

It is, no doubt, one thing to bave an immediate convi(5lion of
a felf-evident axiom ; it is another thing to have an immediate
Gonvidlion of the exiftence of what we fee ; but the convidlion is
equally immediate and equally irrefiftible in both cafes. No man
thinks of feeking a reafon to believe what he fees ; and before we
are capable of reafoning, we put no lefs confidence in our fenfes
than after. The rudeft favage is as fully convinced of what he fees,
and hears, and feels, as the moft expert Logician. The conftitu-
tion of our underftanding determines us to hold the truth of a ma-
thematical axiom as a firft principle, from which other truths may
be deduced, but it is deduced from none ; and the conftitution of
our power of perception determines us to hold the exiftence of
what we diftirn^ly perceive as a firft principle, from which other
truths may be deduced, but it is deduced from none. What has
been faid of the irrefiftible and immediate belief of the exiftence of
objects diftinclly perceived, I mean only to affirm with regard to
perfons fo far advanced in underftanding, as to diftinguifli objed:s
of mere imagination from things which have a real exiftence.
Every man knows that he may have a notion of Don Quixote,
or of Garagantua, without any belief that fuch perfons ever
exifted ; and that of Julius Cxi'ar and Oliver Cromwell, he has
not only a notion, but a belief that they did really exift. But

whether

OFPERCEPTION. i,i

whether children, from the time that they begin to ufe their fenfes, CHAP. v.

make a diftindion between things which are only conceived or

imagined, and things which really exift, may be doubted. Until

we are able to make this diftindlion, we cannot properly be faid

to believe or to difbelieve the exiftence of any thing. The belief of

the exiftence of any thing feems to fuppofe a notion of exiftence ;

a notion too abftradl perhaps to enter into the mind of an infant.

I fpeak of the power of perception in thofe that are adult, and of

a found mind, who believe that there are fome things which do

really exift ; and that there are many things conceived by them-

felves, and by others, which have no exiftence. That fuch perfons

do invariably afcribe exiftence to every thing which they diftincflly

perceive, without feeking reafons or arguments for doing fo, is

perfectly evident from the whole tenor of human life.

The account I have given of our perception of external objedls,
is intended as a faithful delineation of what every man come to
years of underftanding, and capable of giving attention to what
pafles in his ov/n mind, may feel in himfelf. In what manner
the notion of external objedls, and the immediate belief of their
exiftence, is produced by means of our fenfes, I am not able to
fliow, and I do not pretend to fhow. If the power of perceiving
external objedls in certain eircumftances, be a part of the original
conftitution of the human mind, all attempts to account for it will
be vain : No other account can be given of the conftitution of
things, but the will of him that made them ; as we can give no
reafon why matter is extended and inert, why the mind thinks,
and is confcious of its thoughts, but the will of him who made
both ; i'o I fufpecl we can give no other reafon why, in certain eir-
cumftances, we perceive external objects, and in others do not.

The Supreme Being intended, that we ftiould have fuch know-
ledge gf the material objedls that furround us, as is neceftary in
order to our fupplying. the wants of nature, and avoiding the dan-
gers to which we are conftantly expofed ; and he has admirably

fitted

112 • E S S A Y II.

CHAP. V. fitted our powers of perception to this purpofe. If the intelligence
we have of external objedls were to be got by reafoning only, the
greatefl part of men would be deflitute of it ; for the greateft part
of men hardly ever learn to reafon ; and in infancy and childhood
no man can reafon : Therefore, as this intelligence of the objed^s
that furround us, and from which we may receive fo much benefit
or harm, is equally neceffary to children and to men, to the igno-
rant, and to the learned, God in his wifdom conveys it to us in a
way that puts all upon a level. The information of the fenfes is
as perfecft, and gives as full convi(5lion to the moft ignorant, as to
the moft learned.

CHAP. VI.

What it is to account for a Phanomenon in Nature.

AN objedl placed at a proper diftance, and in a good light, while
the eyes are fliut, is not perceived at all ; but no fooner do we
open our eyes upon it, than we have, as it were by infpiration, a
certain knowledge of its exiftence, of its colour, figure, and di-
ftance. This is a fa6l which every one knows. The vulgar are
fatisfied with knowing the fa6l, and give themfelves no trouble
about the caufe of it : But a Philofopher is impatient to know how
this event is produced, to account for it, or alTign its caufe.

This avidity to know the caufes of things is the parent of all
philofophy true and falfe. Men of fpeculation place a great part
of their happinefs in fuch knowledge. Felix qui potuit rerum cog-
nofcere caufas^ has always been a fentiment of human nature. But
as in the purfuit of other kinds of happinefs men often miftake the
road ; fo in none have they more frequently done it, than. in the
philofophical purfuit of the caufes of things.

It

ACCOUNT OF A PHENOMENON. 113

It is a didate of common fenfe, that the caufes we affigii of CHAP, vi.
appearances ought to be real, and not ficflions of human imagina-
tion. It is likewife felf-evident, that fuch caufes ought to be ade-
quate to the efFecfls that are conceived to be produced by them.

That thofe who are lefs accuftomed to inquiries into the caufes
of natural appearances, may the better underftand what it is to
fliew the caufe of fuch appearances, or to account for them ; I fliall
borrow a plain inftance of a phaenomenon or appearance, of which
a full and fatisfadlory account has been given. The phaenomenon
is this : That a ftone, or any heavy body, falling from a height,
continually increafes its velocity as it defcends ; fo that if it acquire
a certain velocity in one fecond of time, it will have twice that ve-
locity at the end of two feconds, thrice at the end of three feconds,
and foon in proportion to the time. This accelerated velocity in a
flone falling muft have been obferved from the beginning of the
world ; but the firft perfon, as far as we know, who accounted
for it in a proper and philofophical manner, was the famous Ga-
lileo ; after innumerable falfe and fiditious accounts had been
given of it.

He obferved, that bodies once put in motion continue that mo-
-tion with the fame velocity, and in the fame diredlion, until they
be flopped or retarded, or have the direcftion of their motion al-
tered, by fome force imprefTed upon them. This property of bodies
is called their inertia^ or inadlivity ; for it implies no more than
that bodies cannot of themfelves change their flate from reft to
motion, or from motion to reft. He obferved alfo, that gravity
adls conftantly and equally upon a body, and therefore will give
equal degrees of velocity to a body in equal times. From thefe
principles, which are known from experience to be fixed laws of Na-
ture, Galileo Ihewed, that heavy bodies muft defcend with a ve-
locity uniformly accelerated, as by experience they are found to do.

For if the body by its gravitation acquire a certain velocity at

P the

114

ESSAY II.

CHAP. vr. the end of one fecond, it would, though its gravitation fhould ceafe
that moment, continue to go on with that velocity ; but its gravi-
tation continues, and will in another fecond give it an additional
velocity, equal to that which it gave in the firft ; fo that the whole
velocity at the end of two feconds will be twice as great as at the
end of one. In like manner, this velocity being continued through
the third fecond, and having the fame addition by gravitation as
in any of the preceding, the whole velocity at the end of the third
fecond will be thrice as great as at the end of the firft, and fo on
continually.

We may here obferve, that the caufes afligned of this phseno-
menon are two : F'trjl^ That bodies once put in motion retain their
velocity and their diredlion until it is changed by fome force
imprefTed upon them. Secondly^ That the weight or gravitation
of a body is always the fame. Thefe are laws of Nature, confirmed
by univerfal experience, and therefore are not feigned but true
caufes ; then, they are precifely adequate to the efFedl afcribed to
them ; they muft neceffarily produce that very motion in defcend-
ing bodies which we find to take place ; and neither more nor lefs.
The account therefore given of this phaznomenon is juft and phi-
lofophical ; no other wiU ever be required or admitted by thofe
who underlland this.

It ought likewife to be obferved, that the caufes affigned of this
pha:nomenon are things of which we can affign no caufe. "Why
bodies once put in motion continue to move ; why bodies con.-
ftantly gravitate towards the earth with the fame force, no man
has been able to fliow: Thefe are fa(5ls confirmed by univerfal ex-
perience, and they muft no doubt have a caufe ; but their caufe is
unknown, and we call them laws of Nature, becaufe we know no
caufe of them but the will of the Supreme Being.

But may we not attempt to find the caufe of gravitation, and of
other phenomena which we call laws of Nature ? No doubt we

may.

ACCOUNT OF A PHENOMENON. n/

may. We know not the limit which has been fet to human know- CHAP. VI.
ledge, and our knowledge of the works of God can never be car-
ried too far : But, fuppofing gravitation to be accounted for, by an
asthereal elaflic medium for inftance, this can only be done, JirJ}^
by proving the exiftence and the elafticity of this medium ; and,
fecondly, by fhowing, that this medium muft necefTarily produce
that gravitation which bodies are known to have. Until this be
done, gravitation is not accounted for, nor is its caufe known j
and when this is done, the elafticity of this medium will be con-
fidered as a law of Nature, whofe caufe is unknown. The chain of
natural caufes has, not unfitly, been compared to a chain hanging
down from heaven : A link that is difcovered fupports the links
below it, but it muft itfelf be fupported ; and that which fupports
it muft be fupported, until we come to the firft link, which is fup-
ported by the throne of the Almighty. Every natural caufe muft
have a caufe, until we afcend to the firft caufe, which is uncaufed,
and operates not by neceffity but by will.

By what has been faid in this Chapter, thofe who are but little
acquainted with philofophical inquiries may fee what is meant by
accounting for a phaenomenon, or Ihowing its caufe, which ought
to be well underftood, in order to judge of the theories by which
Philofophers have attempted to accouat for our perception of ex-
ternal objeds by the fenfes.

CHAP. VII.

Sentiments of Philofophers about the Perception of external ObjeSls ; and^firjl^
Of the Theory of Father Malebranche.

HOW the correfpondence is carried on between the thinking
principle within us, and the material world without us, has
always been found a very difficult problem to thofe Philofophers

P 2 who

ii6 E S S A Y 11.

CHAP. VII. Yvho think themfelves obliged to account for every phaenomenon in
nature. Many Philofophers, ancient and modern, have employed
their invention to difcover how we are made to perceive external
objects by our fenfes : And there appears to be a very great vmifor-
mity in their fentiments in the main, notwithftanding their varia-
tions in particular points.

Plato illuftrates our manner of perceiving the objedls of fenfe,
in this manner : He fuppofes a dark fubterraneous cave, in which
men lie bound in fuch a manner, that they can dire(5l their eyes
only to one part of the cave : Far behind, there is a light, fome
rays of which come over a wall to that part of the cave which is
before the eyes of our prifoners. A number of perfons, vari-
oufly employed, pafs between them and the light, whofe fhadows
are feen by the prifoners, but not the perfons themfelves.

In this manner, that Philofopher conceived, that, by our fenfes,
we perceive the fhadows of things only, and not things themfelves.
He feems to have borrowed his notions on this fubje(fl from the
Pythagoreans, and they very probably from Pythagoras himfelf.
If we make allowance for Plato's allegorical genius, his fenti-
ments on this fubjedl correfpond very well with thofe of his fcho-
lar Aristotle, and of the Peripatetics. The fliadows of Plato
may very well reprefent the fpecies and phantafms of the Peripate-
tic fchool, and the ideas and impreffions of modern Philofophers.

Two thoufand years after Plato, Mr Locke, who fludied the
operations of the human mind fo much, and with fo great fuccefs,
reprefents our manner of perceivieg external objedls, by a fimili-
tude very much refembling that of the cave. " Methinks, fays
" he, the underflanding is not much unlike a clofet wholly fliut
" from light, with only fome little opening left, to let in external
" vifible refemblances or ideas of things without. Would the pic-
" tures coming into fuch a dark room but ftay there, and lie fo
" orderly as to be found upon occafion, it would very much re-

" femble

SENTIMENTS ABOUT PERCEPTION. 117

" femble the vinderftanding of a man, in reference to all objeds CHAP, vu.
" of^fight, and the ideas -of them."

Plato's fubterranean cave, and Mr Locke's dark clofet, may-
be applied with cafe to all the fyftems of perception that have been-
invented : For they all fuppofe that we perceive not external ob-
jedls immediately, and that the immediate objedts of perception
are only certain fhadows of the external objedls. Thofe fhadows
or images, which we immediately perceive, were by the ancients
caWcd Jpedesy /brms, phantafms. Since the time of Des Cartes,
they have commonly been called Ideas^ and by Mr Hume imprejfions.
But all Philofophers, from Plato to Mr Hume, agree in this, That
we do not perceive external objedls immediately, and that the im-
mediate objedt of perception muft be fome image prefent to the
mind. So far there appears an unanimity, rarely to be found
.among Philofophers' 'on fuch abftrufe points.

If it fhould be afked, Whether, according to the opinion of
Philofophers, we perceive the images or ideas only, and infer the
exiftence and qualities of the external object from what we perceive
in the image ? Or, whether we really perceive the external objedl
as well as its image ? The anfwer to this queftion is not quite ob-
vious.

On the one hand, Philofophers, if we except Berkeley and
Hume, believe the exiflence of external objedls of fenfe, and call
them objedls of perception, though not immediate obje(5ls. But
what they mean by a mediate objedl of perception I do not find
clearly explained ; whether they fuit their language to popular
opinion, and mean that we perceive external objeds in that figu-
rative fenfe, in which we fay that we perceive an abfent friend
when we look on his pi(5lure ; or whether they mean, that really,
and without a figure, we perceive both the external objed and its
idea in the mind. If the la(l be their meaning, it would follow,
that, in every iriftance of perception, there is a double objed per-
ceived :

ii8 ESSAY II.

^^^J-^^]- ceived : That I perceive, for inflance, one fun in the heavens, arid
another in my own mind. But I do not find that they affirni this ;
and as it contradids the experience of all mankind, I will not im-
pute it to them.

It feems, therefore, that their opinion is, That we do not really
perceive the external objedl, but the internal only ; and that when
they fpeak of perceiving external objeds, they mean it only in a
popular or in a figurative fenfc, as above explained. Several rea-
fons lead me to think this to be the opinion of Philofophers, befide
what is mentioned above. Virjl^ If we do really perceive the ex-
ternal objed itfelf, there feems to be no nec^ffity, no ufe, for an
image of it. Secondly^ Since the time of Des Cartes, Philofo-
phers have very generally thought that the exiflence of external
objeds of fenfe requires proof, and can only be proved from the
exiftence of their ideas, thirdly. The way in which Philofophers.
fpeak of ideas, feems to imply that they ax'e the only objedls of
' perception.

Having endeavoured to explain what is common to Philofophers
in accounting for our perceptipn of external objedis, we fliall give
Ibme detail of their differences.

The ideas by which we perceive external objedls, are faid by
fome to be the ideas of the Deity ; but it has been more generally
thought, that every man's ideas are proper to himfelf, and are ei-
ther in his mind, or in \i\%fcnforiu7n^ where the mind is immedi-
ately prefent. Tht Jirji is the theory of Malebranche; the^J-
cond we fhall call the common theory.

With regard to that of Malebranche, it feems to have fome

affinity with the Platonic notion of ideas, but is not the fame.

- Plato believed that there are three eternal firft principles, from

which all things have their origin ; matter, ideas, and an efficient

caufe. Matter is that of which all things are made, which, by all

the

THEORY OF MALEBRANCHE. 119

the ancient Phllofophers, was conceived to be eternal. Ideas are chap, vii.
forms without matter of every kind of things which can exift ;
which forms were alfo conceived by Plato to be eternal and im-
mutable, and to be the models or patterns by which the eiEcienc
caufe, that is the Deity, formed every part of this Univerfe. Thefe
ideas were conceived to be the fole objedts of fcience, and indeed
of all true knowledge. While we are imprifoned in the body, we
are prone to give attention to the ohje(5ls of fenfe only ; but thefe
being individual things, and in a conflant fludhuation, being in-
deed fhadows rather than realities, cannot be the objetft of real
knowledge. All fcience is employed, not about individual things,
but about things vmiverfal and abflra(5t from matter. Truth is
eternal and immutable, and therefore mufl have for its objed eter-
nal and immutable ideas ; thefe we are capable of contemplating
in fome degree even in our prefent ftate, but not without a certain
purification of mind, and abflra<5lion from the objedls of fenfe.
Such, as far as I am able to comprehend, were the fublime notions
of Plato, and probably of Pythagoras.

The Philofophers of the Alexandrian fchool, commonly called
the latter Platonifls, feem to have adopted the fame fyftem ; but
with this difference, that they made the eternal ideas not to be a
principle diflindl from the Deity, but to be in the divine intelledl,
as the obje(5ls of thofe conceptions which the divine mind muft
from all eternity have had, not only of every thing which he has
made, but of every polTible exiflence, and of all the relations of
things : By a proper purification and abflradlion from the objeds
of fenfe, we may be in fome meafure united to the Deity, and in
the eternal light be enabled to difcern the mofl fublime intellectual
truths.

Thefe Platonic notions, grafted upon Chriftianity, probably gave
rife to the fe6l called Myjlics^ which, though in its fpirit and prin-
ciples extremely oppofite to the Peripatetic, yet was never extin-
guiihed, but fubfifts to this day.

Many

I20

ESSAY 11.

CHAP. VII. .Many of the Fathers of the Chrlftian chvirch have a tindture of
the tenets of the Alexandrian fchool ; among others St Augustine.
But it does not appear, as far as I know, that either Plato, or
the latter Platonifls, or St Augustine, or the Myftics, thought
that we perceive the objedls of fenfe in the divine ideas. They
had too mean a notion of our perception of fenfible obje(5ls to
afcribe to it fo high an origin. This theory, therefore, of our
perceiving the objects of fenfe in the ideas of the Deity, I take to
be the invention of Father Malebranche himfelf. He indeed
brings many pafFages of St Augustine to countenance it, and
feems very defirous to have that Father of his party. " Bur in thofe
pafTages, though the Father fpeaks in a very high drain of God's
being the light of our minds, of our being Illuminated imme-
diately by the eternal light, and ufes other fimilar expreflions ; yet
he feems to apply thofe expreffions only to our illumination in mo-
ral and divine things, and not to the perception of objects by the
fenfes. Mr Bayle imagines that fome traces of this opinion of
Malebranche are to be found in Amelius the Platonift, and
even in Democritus ; but his authorities feem to be flrained.

Malebranche, with a very penetrating genius, entered into a
more minute examination of the powers of the human mind, than
any one before him. He had the advantage of the difcoveries
made by Des Cartes, whom he followed without flavilli at-
tachment.

He lays it down as a principle admitted by all Philofophers, and
which could not be called in queftion, that we do not perceive
external objedls immediately, but by means of images or ideas of
them prefent to the mind. " I fuppofe, fays he, that every one
" will grant that we perceive not the objetfls that are without us
" immediately, and of themfelves. We fee the fun, the ftars, and
" an infinity of objeds without us ; and it is not at all likely that
" the foul fallies out of the body, and, as it were, takes a walk
" through the Iieavens to contemplate all thofe objeds : She fees

" them

SENTIMENTS ABOUT EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 121

" them not, therefore, by themfelves ; and the immediate object; ^^^^1^^^;

*' of the mind, when it fees the fun, for example, is not the fun,

" but fomething which is intimately united to the foul ; and it is

" that which I call an idea : So that by the word idea, I under fland

** nothing elfe here but that which is the immediate objedl, or

" neareft to the mind, when we perceive any obje<5l. Ic ought to

*' be carefully obferved, that, in order to the mind's perceiving

" any obje(5l, it is abfolutely neceflary that the idea of that objedl

" be adlually prefent to it. Of this it is not poffible to doubt.

" The things which the foul perceives are of two kinds. They

*' are either in the foul, or they are without the foul : Thofe that

" are in the foul are its own thoughts, that is to fay, all its dif-

" ferent modifications. The foul has no need of ideas for percei-

" ving thefe things. But with regard to things without the foul,

" we cannot perceive them but by means of ideas."

Having laid this foundation, as a principle common to all Philo-
fophers, and which admits of no doubt, he proceeds to enumerate
all the pofTible ways by which the ideas of fenfible objeds may be
prefented to the mind : Either, Jirji, they come from the bodies
which we perceive ; or, fecondly, the foul has the power of produ-
cing them in itfelf ; or, thirdly , they are produced by the Deity,
either in our creation, or occafionally as there is ufe for them ; or,
fourthly, the foul has in itfelf virtually and eminently, as the fchools
fpeak, all the perfedlions which it perceives in bodies ; or, fifthly,
the foul is united with a Being pofTefFed of all perfedlion, who has
in himfelf the ideas of all ci*eated things.

This he takes to be a complete enumeration of all the poflible
ways in which the ideas of external obje<5ls may be prefented to
our minds : He employs a whole chapter upon each j refuting the
four firfl, and confirming the laft by various arguments. The
Deity, being always prefent to our minds in a more intimate man-
ner than any other being, may, upon occafion of the impreffions
made on our bodies, difcover to us as far as he thinks proper, and

C^ according

T22

ESSAY II.

CHAP.vii. according to fixed laws, his own ideas of the objecfl ; and thus we
fee all things in God, or in the divine ideas.

However vifionary this fyftem may appear on a fuperficial view,
yet when we confider, that he agreed with the whole tribe of Philo-
fophers in conceiving ideas to be the immediate objedls of percep-
tion, and that he found infuperable difficulties, and even abfurdi-
ties, in every other hypothefis concerning them, it will not appear
fo wonderful that a man of very great genius Ihould fall into this ;
and probably it pleafed fo devout a man the more, that it fets in
the moft flriking light our dependence upon God, and his conti-
nual prefence with us.

He diftinguifhed, more accurately than any Philofopher had
done before, the objedls which we perceive from the fenfations in
our own minds, which, by the laws of Nature, always accompany
the perception of the objedl. As in many things, fo particularly
in this, he has great merit : For this, I apprehend, is a key that
opens the way to a right underflanding both of our external fenfes,
and of other powers of the mind. The vulgar confound -fenfation
with other powers of the mind, and with their obje(fts, becaufe the
purpofes of life do not make a diftinclion neceffary. The con-
founding of thefe in common language has led Philofophers, in one
period, to make thofe things external which really are fenfations in
our own minds ; and, in another period, running as is ufual into
the contrary extreme, to make every thing almoft to be a fenfation
or feeling in our minds.

It is obvious, that the fyftem of Malebranche leaves no evi-
dence of *he exiftence of a material world, from what we perceive
by oup fenfes ; for the divine ideas, which are the objeiSls imme-
diately perceived, were the fame before the world was created.
Malebranche was .too acute not to difcern this confequence of
his fyftem, and too candid not to acknowledge it : He fairly owns
it, and endeavours to make advantage of it, refting the complete

evidence

SENTIMENTS ABOUT EXTERNAL OBJECTS. 123

evidence we have of the exiftence of .matter upon the authority of CHAP.vii.
revelation : He fliews, that the arguments brought by Des Cartes
to prove the exiftence of a material world, though as good as any
that reafon could furnifli, are not perfedly concluiive ; and though
he acknowledges with Des Cartes, that we feel a ftrong propen-
sity to believe the exiftence of a material world, yet he thinks this
is not fufficient ; and that to yield to fuch propenfities without
evidence, is to expofe ourfelves to perpetual delulion. He thinks,
therefore, that the only convincing evidence we have of the ex-
iftence of a material world is, that we are alTured by revelation
that God created the heavens and the earth, and that the Word
was made flefli : He is fenfible of the ridicule to which fo ftrange
an opinion may expofe him among thofe who are guided by pre-
judice ; but, for the fake of truth, he is willing to bear it. But
no author, not even Bifliop Berkeley, hath ftiown more clearly,
that, either upon his own fyftem, or upon the common principles
_of Philofophers with regard to ideas, we have no evidence left,
either from reafon or from our fenfes, of the exiftence of a material
world. It is no more than juftice to Father Malebranche to
acknowledge, that Biftiop Berkeley's arguments are to be found
in him in their whole force.

Mr NoRRis, an Englifla divine, efpoufed the fyftem of Male-
branche, in his Eflay towards the theory of the ideal or intel-
ledlual world, publiftied in two volumes 8vo, anno 1701. This
author has made a feeble effort to fupply a defe<5l which is to be
found not in Malebranche only, but in almoft all the authors
who have treated of ideas ; I mean, to prove their exiftence. He
has employed a whole chapter to prove, that material things cannot
be an immediate objedl of perception. His arguments are thefe :
I/?, They are without the mind, and therefore there can be no
union between the obje(5l and the perception. 2dlj, They are dif-
proportioned to the mind, and removed from it by the whole
diameter of being, ^^^jy Becaufe, if material objects were imme-
diate objedls of perception, there could be no phyfical fcience ;

Q__2 things

124

ESSAY II.

CHAP. VII. things neceflary and immutable being the only objedls of fcience.
4//»/j', If material things were perceived by themfelves, they would
be a true light to our minds, as being the intelligible form of our
underftandings, and confequently perfe(5live of them, and indeed
fuperior to them.

Malebranche's fyflem was adopted by many devout people
in France of both fexes ; but it feems to have had no great cur-
rency in other countries. Mr Locke wrote a fmall trad: againfl
it, which is found among his pofthumous works : But whether it
was written in hafte, or after the vigour of his underftanding was
impaired by age, there is lefs of flrength and folidity in it, than
in moft of his writings. The mod formidable antagonift Male-
BRANCHE met with was in his own country ; Antony Arnauld,
docflor of the Sorbonne, and one of the acuteft writers the Janfenills
have to boaft of, thoxigh that fe<5l has produced many. Male-
BRAJvTCHE was a Jefuit, and the antipathy between the Jefuits and
Janfenifts left him no room to expedl quarter from his learned an-
tagonift. Thofe who chufe to fee this fyftem, attacked on the one
hand, and defended on the other, with fubtilty of argument, and
elegance of expreffion, and on the part of Arnauld with much
wit and humour, may find fatisfadlion by reading Malebranche's
Enquiry after truth ; Arnauld's book of true and falfe ideas ;
Malebranche's Defence; and fome fubfequent replies and de-
fences. In controverfies of this kind, the aflailant commonly has
the advantage, if they are not unequally matched ; for it is eafier
to overturn all the theories of Philofophers upon this fubjed^, than
to defend any one of them. Mr Bayle makes a very juft remark
upon this controverfy, that the arguments of Mr Arnauld againft
the fyftem of Malebranche were often unanfwerable, but they
were capable of being retorted againft his own fyftem ; and his
ingenious antagonift knew well how to ufe this defence.

CHAP.

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, Isfc. 125

CHAP.VIII.
'- ■>- -/

CHAP. VIII.

Of the common I'heory of Perception, and of the Sentiments of the
Peripatetics, and of Dtls Cartes.

THIS theory in general is, that we perceive external objedls
only by certain images which are in our minds, or in the
fenforiura to which the mind is immediately prefent. Philofophers
in different ages have diflfered both in the names they have given
to thofe images, and in their notions concerning them. It would
be a laborious talk to enumerate all their variations, and perhaps
would not requite the labour. I fhall only give a fketch of the
principal differences with regard to their names and their nature.

By Aristotle and the Peripatetics, the images prefented to our
fenfes were caWcdfenfible /pedes or forms ; thofe prefented to the me-
mory or imagination were called phantafms; and thofe prefented to
the intelle(5l were called intelligible /pedes ; and they thought, that
there can be no perception, no imagination, no intelle6lion, with-
out fpecies or phantafms. What the ancient Philofophers called
fpecies, fenfible and intelligible, and phantafms, in later times,
and efpecially fince the time of Des Cartes, came to be called by
the common name of ideas. The Cartefians divided our ideas into
three clafles, thofe oifen/ation, of imagination, and o^ pure intelkSlion.
Of the objects of fenfation and imagination, they thought the images
are in the brain, but of objecfis that are incorporeal, 'the images
are in the underftanding, or pure intelledV.

Mr LocKB, taking the word idea in the fame fenfe as Des Carte's
had done before him, to fignify whatever is meant by phantafm,
notion or fpecies, divides ideas into thofe oi /en/ation, and thofe of
reflecfion ; meaning by the firfl, the ideas of all corporeal objects,
whether perceived, remembered, or imagined; by the fecond, the

ideas

126 ESSAY II.

?^'^^"/' i<^^c^s of the powers and operations of our minds. What Mr Locke
calls ideas, Mr Hume divides into two diftindl kinds, hnprcjfions
and ideas. The difference betwixt thefc, he fays, confifls in the
degrees of force and livellnefs with which they flrlke upon the
mind. Under imprejfions he comprehends all our fenfations, paffions
and emotions, as they make their firft appeai"ance in the foul. By
ideas he means the faint images of thefe in thinking and reafoning.

Dr Hartley gives the fame meaning to ideas as Mr Hume does,
and what Mr Hume calls impreffions he calls fenfations ; conceiving
our fenfations to be occafioned by vibrations of the infinitefimal
particles of the brain, and ideas by miniature vibrations, or vibra-
tiuncles. Such differences we find among Philofophers, with re-
gard to the name of thofe internal images of objedls of fenfe,
which they hold to be the immediate obje(5ls of perception.

We (hall next give a fliort detail of the fentimentsof the Peripatetics
, and Cartefians, of Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, concerning them.

Aristotle feems to have thought that the foul confifls of two
parts, or, rather, that we have two fouls, the animal and the ra-
tional; or, as he calls them, the foul and the intellect. To the
Jlrjl^ belong the fenfes, memory, and imagination j to the lajl,
judgment, opinion, belief, and reafoning. The firft we have in
common with brute animals ; the laft is peculiar to man. The ani-
mal foul he held to be a certain form of the body, which is infe-
parable from it, and periflies at death. To this foul the fenfes be-
long : And he defines a fenfe to be that which is capable of re-
ceiving the fenfible forms, or fpccies of objeds, without any of the
matter of them ; as wax receives the form of the feal without any
of the matter of it. The forms of found, of colotir,- of tafte, and
of other fenfible qualities, are in like manner received by the fenfes.

It feems to be a neceffary confequence of Aristotle's doc-
trine, that bodies are conftantly fending forth, in all directions, as

many

OF THE TH*EORY OF PERCFPTION, t<fc. 127

many different kinds of forms without matter as they have differ- CHAP.viii.
ent fenflble quabties; for the forms of colour muft enter by the
eye, the forms of found by the ear, and fo of the other fenfes.
This accordingly was maintained by the followers of Aristotle,
though, not as far as I know, exprefsly mentioned by himfelf.
They difputed concerning the nature of thofe forms of fpecies,
whether they were real beings or non -entities ; and fome held them
to be of an intermediate nature between the two. The whole doc-
trine of the Peripatetics and fchoolmen concerning forms, fubftan-
tial and accidental, and concerning the tranfmifTion of fenflble fpe-
cies from objeds of fenfe to the mind, if it be at all intelligible,
is fo far above my comprehenfion, that I fhould perhaps do it in-
juflice, by entering into it more minutely. Malebranche, in
his Recherche de la Yerite^ has employed a chapter to fhew, that ma-
terial objeds do not fend forth fenflble fpecies of their feveral fen-
flble qualities.

The great revolution which Des Cartes produced in philofb-
phy, was the effedl of a fuperiority of genius, aided by the cir-
cumflances of the times. Men had, for more than a thoufand
years, looked up to Aristotle as an oracle in philofophy. His
authority was the tefl of truth. The fmall remains of the -Plato-
nic fyftem were confined to a few Myftics, whofe principles and
manner of life drew little attention. The feeble attempts of Ra-
mus, and of fome others, to make improvements in the fyflein,
had little effe(5l. The Peripatetic do<5lrines were fo interwoven
with the whole fyflem of fcholaflic theology, that to diffent from
Aristotle was to alarm the Church. The mofl ufeful and intel-
ligible parts, even of Aristotle's writings, were negledled, and
philofophy was become an art of fpeaking learnedly, and difputing
fubtilely, without producing any invention of ufe in human life.
It was fruitful of words, but barren of works, and admirably con-
trived for drawing a veil over human ignorance, and putting a
flop to the progrefs of knowledge, by filling men with a conceit
that they knew every thing. It was very fruitful alfo in contro-

verfles ;

128 ESSAY IT.

CHARviii. verfies ; but for the mofl: part they were corftroverfies about words,
or about things of no moment, or things above the reach of the
human faculties : And the iffue of them was what might be ex-
pelled, that the contending parties fought, without gaining or lo-
fing an inch of ground, till they were weary of the difpute, or
their attention was called ofF to fome other fubjedl.

Such was the philofophy of the fchools of Europe, during ma-
ny ages of darknefs and barbarifm that fucceeded the decline of the
Roman empire ; fo that there was great need of a reformation in
philofophy as well as in religion. The light began to dawn at
lad ; a fpirit of enquiry fprang up, and men got the courage to
doubt of the dogmas of Aristotle, as well as of the decrees of
Popes. The mofl important ftep in the reformation of religion
was to deflroy the claim of infallibility, which hindered men from
ufing their judgment in matters of religion : And the mofl impor-
tant flep in the reformation of philofophy was to dellroy the au-
thority, of which Aristotle had fo long had peaceable pofleilion.
The laft had been attempted by Lord Bacon and others, with no
lefs zeal than the firft by Luther and Calvin.

De* Cartes knew well the defedls of the prevailing fyftem
which had begun to lofe its authority. His genius enabled him, and
his fpirit prompted him, to attempt a new one. He had applied
much to the mathematical fciences, and had made confiderable im-
provement in them. He wifhed to introduce that perfpicuity and
evidence into other branches of philofophy which he found in them.

Being fenfiblc how apt we are to be led aftray by prejudices of
education, he thought the only way to avoid error, was, to refolve
to doubt of every thing, and hold every thing to be uncertain ;
even thofe things which he had been taught to hold as mod cer-
tain, until he had fuch clear and cogent evidence as compelled his
aflent.

In

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, ^c. 129

In this ftate of univerfal doubt, that which firft appeared to him CHAP.viir.
to be clear and certain, was his own exiftence. Of this he was cer-
tain, becaufe he was confcious that he thought, that he reafoned,
and that he doubted. He ufed this argument, therefore, to prove
his own exiftence, cogito, ergofum. This he conceived to be the firft
of all truths, the foundation-ftone upon which the whole fabric of
human knowledge is built, and on which it muft reft. And as
Archimedes thought, that if he had one fixed point to reft his en-
gines upon, he could move the earth; fo Des Cartes, charmed
with the difcovery of one certain principle, by which he emerged
from the ftate of univerfal doubt, believed that this principle alone
would be a fufficient foundation on which he might build the
■whole fyftem of fcience. He feems therefore to have taken no
great trouble to examine whether there might not be other firft
principles, which, on account of their own light and evidence,
ought to be admitted by every man of found judgment. The love
of fimplicity, fo natural to the mind of man, led him to apply the
whole force of his mind to raife the fabric of knowledge upon this
one principle, rather than feek a broader foundation.

Accordingly, he does not admit the evidence of fenfe to be a
firft principle, as he does that of confcioufnefs. The arguments of
the ancient fceptics here occurred to him, that our fenfes often de-
ceive us, and therefore ought never to be trufted on their own au-
thority : That in fleep, we often feem to fee and hear things which
we are convinced to have had no exiftence. But that which chief-
ly led Des Cartes to think that he ought not to truft to his fenfes
■without proof of their veracity, was, that he took it for granted,
as all Philofophers had done before him, that he did not perceive
external obje<5ls themfelves, but certain images of them in his
own mind, called ideas. He was certain, by confcioufnefs, that
he had the ideas of fun and moon, earth and fea ; but how could
he be aflured that there really exifted external objeds like to thefe
ideas?- ^

R Hitherto

I30

ESSAY IL

CHAP.VIII. Hitherto he was uncertain of every thing but of his own exift-
ence, and the exiflence of the operations and ideas of his owa
mind. Some of his difciples, it is faid, remained at this ftage of
his fyftem, and got the name of Egoifts. They could not find
evidence in the fubfequent ftages of his progrefs. But Des Car-
tes refolved not to flop here ; he endeavoured to prove, by a new
argument, drawn from his idea of a Deity, the exiftence of an in-
finitely perfe(fl Being, who made him, and all his faculties. From
the perfedlion ot this Being, he inferred that he could be no de-
ceiver ; and therefore concluded, that his fenfes, and the other fa-
culties he found in himfelf, are not fallacious, but may be trufled,
when a proper ufe is made of them.

The fyftem of Des Cartes is, with great perfpicuity and
acutenefs, explained by himfelf in his writings, which ought to
be confuked by thofe who would under ftand it.

The merit of Des Cartes cannot be eafily conceived by thofe
who have not fome notion of the Peripatetic fyftem, in which he
was educated. To throw off the prejudices of education, and to
create a fyftem of nature, totally different from that which had
fubdued the underftanding of mankind, and kept it in fubjedlion
for fo many centuries, required an uncommon force of mind.

The world which Des Cartes exhibits to our view, is not only
in its ftru(5lure very different from that of the Peripatetics, but is,
as we may fay, corapofed of different materials.

In the old fyftem, every thing was, by a kind of metaphyfical
fublimation, refolved into principles fo myfterious, that it may be
a queftion whether they were words without meaning, or were no-
tions too refined for human underftanding.

All that we obferve in nature, is, according to Aristotle, a
conftant fucccffion of the operations of generation and corruption.

The

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, ^c. 131

The principles of generation are matter and form. The principle CHAP.viii,
of corruption is privation. All natural things are produced or ge-
nerated by the union of matter and form ; matter being, as it were, *
the mother, and form the father. As to matter, or the firft mat-
ter, as it is called, it is neither fubftance nor accident ; it has no
quality or property ; it is nothing adlually, but every thing poten-
tially. It has fo ftrong an appetite for form, that it is no fooner
diverted of one form, than it is clothed with another, and is equally
fufceptible of all forms fucceflively. It has no nature, but only
the capacity of having any one.

.1*-:

This is the account which the Peripatetics give of the firft mat- *

ter. The other principle of generation is/brm, a£l^ perfedion ; for
thefe three words fignify the fame thing. But we muft not con-
ceive form to confift in the figure, fize, arrangement, or motion
of the parts of matter. Thefe, indeed, are accidental forms, by
which things artificial are formed : But every produdlion of Na-
ture has a fubftantial form, which, joined to matter, makes it to
be what it is. The fubftantial form is a kind of informing foul,
which gives the thing its fpecific nature, and all its qualities, powers,
and adlivity. Thus the fubftantial form of heavy bodies, is that
which makes them defcend ; of light bodies, that which makes
them afcend. The fubftantial form of gold, is that which gives
it its dudlility, its fufibility, its weight, its colour, and all its qua-
lities ; and the fame is to be underftood of every natural produc-
tion. A change in the accidental form of any body, is alteration
only ; but a change in the fubftantial form, is generation and cor-
ruption : It is corruption with refpedl to the fubftantial form, of
which the body is deprived : It is generation, with refpedl to the
fubftantial form that fucceeds. Thus when a horfe dies and turns
to duft, the philofophical account of the pha;nomenon is this : A
certain portion of the materia prima, which was joined to the fub-
ftantial form of a horfe, is deprived of it by privation, and in the
fame inftant is invefted with the fubftantial form of earth. As
ev6ry fubftance muft have a fubftantial form, there are fome of

R 2 thofe

132

ESSAY II.

CHAP.viif. thofe forms inanimate, fome vegetative, fome animal, and fome
rational. The three former kinds can only fubfifl in matter ; but
" the laft, according to the fchoolm-en, is immediately created by
God, and infufed into the body, making one fubftance with ic^
while they are united ; yet capable of being disjoined from the bo-
dy, and of fubfifting by itfelf.

Such are the principles of natural things in the Peripatetic fyflem»
It retains fo much of the ancient Pythagorean dodlrine, that we
cannot afcribe the invention of it folely to Aristotle, although
he no doubt made confiderable alterations in it. The firfl matter was
probably the fame in both fyftems, and was in both held to be
eternal. They differed more about form. The Pythagoreans and
Platonifts held forms or ideas, as they called them, to be eternal^
immutable, and felf-exiftent. Aristotle maintained, that they
were not eternal, nor felf-exiftent. On the other hand, he did not
allow them to be produced, but educed from matter ; yet he held
them not to be actually in the matter from which they are educed,
but potentially only. But thefe two fyftems differed lefs from one
another, than that of Des Cartes did from both.

In the world of Des Cartes, we meet with two kinds of beings
only, to wit, body and mind ; the firft the objedl of our fenfes,
the other of confcioufnefs ; both of them things of which we have
a diftindl apprehenfion, if the human mind be capable of diflincft
apprehenfion at all. To the firft, no qualities are afcribed but ex-
tenfion, figure, and motion ; to the laft, nothing but thought, and
its various modifications, of which we are confcious. He could
obferve no common attribute, no refernbling feature in the attri-
butes of body and mind, and therefore concluded them to be di-
ftindl fubftances, and totally of a different nature ; and that body
from its very nature is inanimate and inert, incapable of any kind
of thought or fenfation, or of producing any change or alteration
in itfelf.

Des

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, ^c. 133

Des Cartes muft be allowed the honour of being the firft who CHAP.viii.
drew a diftindt line between the material and intelleclual world,
which, in all the old fyftems, were fo blended together, that it was
impoflible to fay where the one ends and the other begins. How
much this diftindlion hath contributed to the improvements of
modern times, in the philofophy both of body and of mind, is not,
eafy to fay.

One obvious confequence of this didindlion was, that accurate
refledlion on the operations of our own mind is the only way to
make any progrefs in the knowledge of it. Malebranche,
Locke, Berkeley, and Hume, were taught this leffon by Des
Cartes ; and to it we owe their mod valuable difcoveries in this
branch of philofophy. The analogical way of reafoning concern-
ing the powers of the mind from the properties of body, which is .
the fource of almoft all the errors on this fubjei5l, and which is fo *
■natural to the bulk of mankind, was as contrary to the principles
of Des Cartes, as it was agreeable to the principles of the old
philofophy. We may therefore truly fay, that, in that part of
philofophy which relates to the mind, Des Cartes laid the foun-
dation, and put us into that tradl, which all wife men now acknow-
ledge to be the only one in which we can expecl fuccefs.

With regai'd to phyfics, or the philofophy of body, if Des Car-
tes had not the merit of leading men into the right tradl, we muft
allow him that of bringing them out of a wrong one. The Peri-
patetics, by affigning to every fpecies of body a particular fubftan-
tial form, which produces, in an unknown manner, all the effedts
we obferve in it, put a ftop to all improvement in this branch of
philofophy. Gravity and levity, fluidity and hardnefs, heat and
cold, were qualities arifing from the fubflantial form of the bodies
to which they belonged. Generation and corruption, fubllantial
forms, and occult qualities, were always at hand, to refolve every
pharnomenon. This philofophy, therefore, inftead of accounting
for any of the phenomena of Nature, contrived only to give learn-
ed

134 ]^ S S A Y II.

CHAP.viu. g(j names to their unknown caufes, and fed men with the hufks of
barbarous terms, inftead of the fruit of real knowledge.

By the fpreading of the Cartefian fyftem, materia prima ^ fubftan-
tial forms, and occult qualities, with all the jargon of the Arifto-
t^lian phyfics, fell into utter di%race, and were never mentioned '
by the followers of the new fyftem, but as a fubjedl of ridicule.
Men became fenfible that their vinderftanding had been hoodwink-
ed by thofe hard terms. They were now accuftomed to explain
the phacnomena of Nature, by the figure, fize, and motion of the
particles of matter, things perfedly level to human underftanding,
and could relifh nothing in philofophy that was dark and unintel-
ligible. Aristotle, after a reign of more than a thoufand years,
was now expofed as an objecSl of derifion even to the vulgar, ar-
rayed in the mock majefty of his fubftantial forms and occult qua-
lities. The ladies became fond of a philofophy which was eaiily
learned, and required no words too harfli for their delicate organs.
Queens and Princefles, the moft diftinguillied perfonages of the
age, courted the converfation of Des Cartes, and became adepts
in his philofophy. Witnefs Christina Queen of Sweden, and Eli-
sabeth, daughter of Frederick King of Bohemia, the mother of
our Royal Family. The laft, though very young when Des Cartes
wrote his Pr'incipta^ he declares to be the only perfon he knew, who
perfedlly underftood not only all his philofophical writings, but the
moft abftrufe of his mathematical works.

That men fliould rufli with violence from one extreme, without
going more or lefs into the contrary extreme, is not to be expecled
from the weaknefs of human nature. Des Cartes and his fol-
lowers were not exempted from this weaknefs ; they thought that
extenfion, figure, and motion, were fufficient to refolve all the phae-
nomena of the material fyftem. To admit other qualities, whofe
caufe is unknown, was to return to Egypt, from which they had
been fo happily delivered.

When

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, 6'c, 135

When Sir Isaac Newton's dodrlne of gravitation was publifii- CHAP.vrif.
ed, the great objedlion to it, which hindered its general reception
in Europe for half a century, was, that gravitation feemed to be
an occult quality, as it could not be accounted for by extenfion, fi-
gure, and motion, the known attributes of body. They who de-
fended him, found it difEcult to anfwer this objedlion, to the fatif-
facflion of thofe who had been initiated in the principles of the
Cartefian fyftem. But, by degrees, men came to be fenfible, that,
in revolting from Aristotle, the Cartefians had gone into the
oppolite extreme ; experience convinced them, that there are quali-
ties in the material world, whofe exiflence is. certain, though their
caufe be occult. To acknowledge this, is only a candid confcffioa
of human ignorance, than which there is nothing more becoming
a Philofopher.

As all that we can know of the mind muft be derived from a
careful obfervation of its operations in ourfelves ; fo all that we
can know of the material fyftem muft be derived from what can
be difcovered by our fenfes. Des Cartes was not ignorant of
this ; nor was his fyftem io unfriendly to obfervation and experi-
ment as the old fyftem was. He made many experiments, and
called earneftly upon all lovers of truth to aid him in this way.
But, believing that, all the phaenomena of the material world are
the refult of extenfion, figure, and motion, and that the Deity al-
ways combines thefe, fo as to produce the phaenomena in the fim-
pleft manner poffible, he thought, that, from a few experiments,
he might be able to difeover the fimpleft way, in which the obvi-
ous phenomena of Nature can be produced, by matter and motion
only ; and that this muft be the way in which they are a(fl;ually
produced. His conjedlures were ingenious, upon the principles he
had adopted : But they are found to be fo fvr from the truth, thatr
they ought for ever to difcourage Philofophers from trufting to con-
jecture in the operations of Nature.

The vortices or whirlpools of fubtile matter, by which Des

Cartes

J36 ESSAY II.

CHAP.vm. Cartks endeavoured to account for the phsenomcna of the mate-
rial world, are now found to be fidions, no lefs than the fenfible
fpecies of Aristotle.

It was referved for Sir Isaac Newton to point out clearly the
road to the knowledge of Nature's works. Taught by Lord Bacon
to defpife hypothefes as the fi(5lions of human fancy, he laid it
down as a rule of philofophifing, that no caufes of natural things
ought to be affigned but fuch as can be proved to have a real exi-
ftence. He faw, that all the length men can go in accounting for
phaenomena is to difcover the laws of Nature, according to which
they are produced ; and therefore, that the true method of philo-
fophifing is this : From real fads afcertained by obfervation and
experiment, to colled by juft indudion the laws of Nature, and
to apply the laws fo difcovered, to account for the phaenomena of
Nature.

Thus the natural Philofopher has the rules of his art fixed with
no lefs precifion than the Mathematician, and may be no lefs cer-
tain when he keeps within them, and when he deviates from them :
And though the evidence of a law of nature from indudion is not
demonftrative, it is the only kind of evidence on which all the
moft important affairs of human life muft reft.

Purfuing this road without deviation, Newton difcovered the
laws of our planetary fyftem, and of the rays of light ; and gave
the firft and the nobleft examples of thatA;hafte indudion, which
Lord Bacon could only delineate in theory.

How ftrange is ir, that the human mind fhould have wandered
for fo many ages, without falling into this trad ? How much more
ftrange, that after it has been clearly difcovered, and a happy pro-
grefs made in it, many chufe rather to wander in the fairy regions
of hypothefis ?

To

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, 6r. 137

To return to Des Cartes's notions of the manner of our per- CHAP.viiL
ceiving external objecfts, from which a concern to do juftice to the
merit of that great reformer in philofophy has led me to digrefs,
he took it for granted, as the old Philofophers had done, that what
we immediately perceive muft be either in the mind itfelf, or in
the brain, to which the mind is immediately prefent* The im-
prefTions made upon ovir organs, nerves, and brain, could be no-
thing according to his philofophy but various modifications of ex-
tenfion, figure, and motion. There could be nothing in the brain
like found or colour, tafte or fmell, heat or cold ; thefe are fenfa-
tions in the mind, which, by the laws of the union of foul and
body» are raifed on occafion of certain traces in the brain ; and al-
though he gives the name of ideas to thofe traces in the brain, he
does not think it neceflary that they fhould be perfectly like to the
things which they reprefent, any more than that words or figns
fliould refemble the things they fignify. But, fays he, that we may
follow the received opinion as far as is- poflible, we may allow a
flight refemblance. Thus we know, that a print in a book may
reprefent houfes, temples, and groves ; and fo far is it from being
neceffary that the print Ihould be perfeftly like the thing it repre-
fents, that its perfedlion often requires the contrary : For a circle
muft often be reprefented by an ellipfe, a fquare by a rhonjbus,
and fo of other things.

The perceptions of fenfe, he thought, are to be referred folely
to the union of foul and body. They commonly exhibit to us only
what may hurt or profit our bodies ; and rarely, and by accident
only, exhibit things as they are in themfelves. It is by obferving
thi*, that we muft learn to throw off the prejudices of fenfe, and
to attend with our intelle<5t to the ideas which are by nature im-
planted in it. By this means we Ihall underftand, that the nature
of matter does not confift in thofe things that afFe<f1: our fenfes, fuch
as colour, or fmell, or tafte ; but only in this, that it is fomething
extended in length, breadth, and depth.

S The

138 ESSAY II.

CHAP.viil. The writings of Des Cartes have in general a remarkable de-
gree of perfpicuity ; and he undoubtedly intended that, in this
particular, his philofophy fliould be a perfedl contrail: to that of
Aristotle ; yet, in what he has faid in different parts of his wri-
tings, of our perception of external obje(fls, there feems to be fome
obfcurity, and even inconfiftency ; whether owing to his having
had different opinions on the fubjedl at different times, or to the
difficulty he found in it, I will not pretend to fay.

There are two points in particular, wherein I cannot reconcile
him to himfelf : The Jir/I, regarding the place of the ideas or images
of external objedls, which are the immediate objetfts of perception;
the/econdy with regard to the veracity of our external fenfes.

As to the^jr/?, he fometimes places the ideas of material objedts
in the brain, not only when they are perceived, but when they are
remembered or imagined ; and this has always been held to be the
Cartefian dodlrine ; yet he fometimes fays, that we are not to
conceive the images or traces in the brain to be perceived, as if
there were eyes in the brain ; thefe traces are only occafions on
which, by the laws of the union of foul and body, ideas are ex-
cited in the mind; and therefore it is not neceffary, that there
fhould be an exa(5l refemblance between the traces and the things
reprefented by them, any more than that words or figns fhould be
exadlly like the things fignified by them.

Thefc two opinions, I think, cannot be reconciled. For if the
images or traces in the brain are perceived, they mufl be the obje(5l&
of perception, and not the occafions of it only. On the other hafiid,
if they are only the occafions of our perceiving, they are not per-
ceived at all. Des Cartes feems to have hefitated between the
two opinions, or to have paffed from the one to the other. Mr
Locke feems in like manner to have wavered between the two ;
fometimes reprefenting the ideas of material things as being in the
brain, but more frequently as in the mind itfelf. Neither Des

Cartes

OF THE THEORY OF PJLRCEPTION, ^c. 139

Cartes nor Mr Locke could, confidently with themfelves, attri- ^^hap.viiI'
hute any other qualities to images in the brain, but extenfion, ""

figure, and motion; for as to thofe qualities which Mr Locke di-
ftinguiflied by the name of fecondary qualities, both Philofophers
believed them not to belong to body at all, and therefore could
not al'cribe them to images in the brain. •

Sir Isaac Newton and Dr Samuel Clarke, uniformly Ipeak
of the fpecies or images of material things as being in that part
of. the brain called the fejrforium, and perceived by the mind there
prefent ; but the former fpeaks of this point only incidentally, and
with his ufual modelly, in the form of a query. Malebranche
is perfedlly clear and unambiguous in this matter. According to
his fyftem, the images or traces in the brain are not perceived at
all, they are only occafions upon which, by the laws of Nature,
certain fenfations are felt by us, and certain of the divine ideas
difcovered to our minds.

They^cow^ point on which Des Cartes feems to waver, is with
regard to the credit that is due to the teftimony of our fenfes.

Sometimes, from the perfedlion of the Deity, and his being no
deceiver, he infers, that our fenfes and our other faculties cannot
be fallacious : And fince we feem clearly to perceive, that the idea
of matter comes to us from things external, which it perfedlly re-
fembles ; therefore, we muft conclude, that there really exifls fonie-
thing extended in length, breadth, and depth, having all the pro-,
perties which we clearly perceive to belong to an extended thing.

At other times, we find Des Cartes and his followers making
frequent complaints, as all the ancient Philofophers did, of the fal-
lacies of fenfe. He warns us to throw off its prejudices, and to
attend only, with our intelled, to the ideas implanted there. By
this means we may perceive, that the nature of matter does not
confift in hardnefs, colour, weight, or any of thofe things that af-

S 2 fea

I40 . E S S A Y II.

ctlAP.vni. fe£^ Q^f fenfes, but ixi this only, that it is fomething extended in
length, breadth, and depth. The fenfes, he fays, are only rela-
tive to our prefent Hate ; they exhibit things only, as they tend
to profit or to hurt us, and rarely, and by accident only, as they
are in themfelves.

4

It was probably owing to an averfion to admit any thing into
philofophy, of which we have not a clear and diftincfl conception,
that Des Cartes was led to deny, that there is any fubllance of
matter diftindl from thofe qualities of it which we perceive. We
fay, that matter is fomething extended, figured, moveable. Ex-
tenfion, figure, mobility, therefore, are not matter, but qualities,
belonging to this fomething, which we call matter. Des Cartjs
could not relifh this obfcure fomething^ which is fuppofed to be
the fubjedl ox fiihjlratum of thofe qualities ; and therefore maintain-
ed, that extenfion is the very eflencc of matter. But as we muft
afcribe extenfion to fpace as well as to matter, he found himfelf
under a neceffity of holding, that fpace and matter are the fame
thihg, and differ only in our way of conceiving them ; fb that,
wherever there is fpace there is matter, and no void left in the uni-
verfe. The neceffary confequence of this, is, that the material
world has no bounds nor limits. He did not, however, chufe to
call it infinite, but indefinite.

It was probably owing to the fame caufe that Des Cartes made
the elTence of the foul to confifl: in thought: He would not allov<r
it to be an unknown fomething that has the power of thinking ;
it cannot therefore be without thought : And as he conceived that
there can be no thought without ideas, the foul mufb have had
ideas in its firft formation, which, of confequence, are innate.

The fentiments of thofe who came after Des Cartes, with re-
gard to the nature of body and mind, have been various. Many
have maintained, that body is only a coll^ion of qualities to which
•we give jone name ; and that the notion of a fubjed of inhefion,

to

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, <b'c. 141

to which thofe qualities belong, is only a fidlion of the mind. CHAP.viii.
Some have even maintained, that the foul is only a fucceflion of
related ideas, without any fubjedl of inhefion. It appears, by what
has been faid, how far thefe notions are allied to the Cartefian
fyftem.

The triumph of the Cartefian fyftem over that of Aristotle,
is one of the moft remarkable revolutions in the hiftory of philo-
fophy, and has led me to dwell longer upon it than the prefent fub-
jedl perhaps required. The authority of Aristotle was now no
more. That reverence for hard words and dark notions, by which
mens underftanding had been ftrangled in early years, was turned
into contempt, and every thing fufpedled which was not clearly
and diftindlly underftood. This is the fpirit of the Cartefian phi-
lofophy, and is a more important acquifition to mankind than any
of its particular tenets ; and for exerting this fpirit fo zealoufly,
and fpreading it fo fuccefsfully, Des Cartes deferves immortal
honour.

It is to be obferved, however, that Des Cartes rejeded a part
only of the ancient theory, concerning the perception of external
objects by the fenfes, and that he adopted the other part. That
theory may be divided into two parts : Th.Q Jirji^ that images, fpe-
cies, or forms of external objedls, come from the obje<5l, and en-
ter by the avenues of the fenfes to the mind ; the fecond part is.
That the external obje<5l itfelf is not perceived, but only the fpe-
cies or image of it in the mind. The firfl part Des Cartes and
his followers rejedled, and refuted by folid arguments ; but the fe-
cond part, neither he, nor his followers, have thought of calling
in queftion ; being perfuaded, that it is only a reprefentative image,
in the mind, of the external objedl that we perceive, and not the
objecl itfelf. And this image, which the Peripatetics called a fpe-
cies, he calls an idea, changing the name only, while he admits
the thing.

It

144 E S S A Y n.

CHAP.Vlii. It feems ftrange, that the great pains which this Philofopher
took to throw off the prejudices of education, to difmifs all his
former opinions, and to aflent to nothing, till he found evidence that
compelled his aflent, fliould not have led him to doubt of this opi-
nion of the ancient philofophy. It is evidently a philofophical opi-
nion; for the vulgar undoubtedly believe that it is the external ob-
jecl which we immediately perceive, and not a reprefentative
image of it only. It is for this reafon, that they look upon it as
perfed lunacy to call in queftion the exiftence of external obje(5ls.

It feems to be admitted as a fir ft principle by the learned and the
unlearned, that what is really perceived muft exift, and that to
perceive what does not exift is impofllble. So far the unlearned
man and the Philofopher agree. The unlearned man fays, I per-
ceive the external objedl, and I perceive it to exift. Nothing can
be more abfurd than to doubt of it. The Peripatetic fays, what I
perceive is the very identical form of the objedl, which came im-
mediately from the objedl, and makes an imprefllon upon my
mind, as a feal does upon wax; and therefore, I can have no doubt
of the exiftence of an objedl whofe form I perceive. But what
fays the Cartefian ? I perceive not, fays he, the external objeifl it-
felf. So far he agrees with the Peripatetic, and differs from the
unlearned man. But I perceive an image, or form, or idea, in my
own mind, or in my brain. I am certain of the exiftence of the
idea, becaufe I immediately perceive it. But how this idea is
formed, or what it reprefents, is not felf-evident ; and therefore I
muft find arguments, by which, from the exiftence of the idea
which I perceive, I can infer the exiftence of an external obje(5l
which it reprefents.

As I take this to be a juft view of the principles of the unlearn-
ed man, of the Peripatetic, and of the Cartefian, fo I think they
all reafon confequentially from their feveral principles ; that the
Cartefian has ftrong grounds to doubt of the exiftence of external
objeds ; the Peripatetic very little ground of doubt ; and the un-
learned

OF THE THEORY OF PERCEPTION, ^c. 143

learned man none at all : And that the dliFerence of their fituation CHAP.VIII.
arifes from this, that the unlearned man has no hypothefis ; the
Peripatetic leans upon an hypothefis j and the Cartefian upon one
half of that hypothefis.

Des Cartes, according to the fpirit of his own philofophy,
ought to have doubted of both parts of the Peripatetic hypothefis,
or to have given his reafons w^hy he adopted one part, as well as
why he rejedted the other part ; efpecially, fince the unlearned,
who have the faculty of perceiving objeifls by their fenfes in no
lefs perfe(5lion than Philofophers, and fhould therefore know, as
well as they, what it is they perceive, have been unanimous in
this, that the objedls they perceive are not ideas in their own
minds, but things external. It might have been expedled, that
a Philofopher who was fo cautious as not to take his own exiftence
for granted without proof, would not have taken it for granted,
without proof, that every thing he perceived was only ideas in his
own mind.

But if Des Cartes made a rafli ftep in this, as I apprehend he
did, he ought not to bear the blame alone. His fucceflbrs have
flill continued in the fame track, and, after his example, have
adopted one part of the ancient theory, to wit, that the obje<5ls
we immediately perceive are ideas only. All their fyftems are
bviilt on this foundation.

CHAP. IX.
Of the Sentiments of Mr LocKE.

THE reputation which Locke's EfTay on human underftand-
ing had at home from the beginning, and which it has
gradually acquired abroad, is a fufficient teftimony of its merits

There

144

ESSAY II.

CHAP. IX. There is perhaps no book of the metaphyfical kind that has been
fo generaUy read by thofe who underfland the language, or that
is more adapted to teach men to think with precifion, and to in-
fpire them with that candour and love of truth, which is the ge-
nuine fpirit of philofophy. He gave, I believe, the firft. example
in the Englifli language of writing on fuch abflraft fubjedls, with
a remarkable degree of Simplicity and perfpicuity ; and in this he
has been happily imitated by others that came after him. No
author hath more fuccefsfully pointed out the danger of ambigu-
ous words, and the importance of having diflincft and determinate
notions in judging and reafoning. His obfervations on the various
powers of the human underflanding, on the ufe and abufe of words,
and on the extent and limits of human knowledge, are drawn
from attentive reflecflion on the operations of his own mind, the
true fource of all real knowledge on thefe fubjedls ; and fliew an
uncommon degree of penetration and judgment : But he needs no
panegyric of mine, and I mention thefe things, only that, when I
have occafion to differ from him, I may not be thought infenfible of
the merit of an author whom I highly refpedt, and to whom I owe
my firft lights in thofe ftudies, as well as my attachment to them.

He fees out in his Eflay with a full convidlion, common to him
with other Philofophers, that ideas in the mind are the objedls of
all our thoughts in every operation of the underftanding. This
leads him to ufe the word idea fo very frequently, beyond what
was ufual in the Englifh language, that he thought it necefTary in
his introdudlion to make this apology : " It being that term, fays
*' he, which, I think, ferves beft to ftand for whatfoever is the
" objedl of underftanding, when a man thinks ; I have ufed it to
" exprefs whatever is meant by phantafm, notion, fpecies, or what-
" ever it is which the mind can be employed about in thinkings
'" and I could not avo'd frequently uling it. I prefume it will be

granted me, that there are fuch ideas in mens minds ; every
'* man is confcious of them in himfelf, and mens words and
** ^dlions will fatisfy him that they are in others."

Speaking

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr LOCKE. 145

Speaking of the reality of our knowledge, he fays, " It is evi- CHAP. IX.
*' dent the mind knows not things immediately, but only by the
*' intervention of the ideas it has of them : Our knowledge there-
*' fore is real, only fo far as there is a conformity between our
*' ideas and the reality of things. But what Ihall be here the cri-
" terion? How fhall the mind, when it perceives nothing but its
*' own ideas, know that they agree with things themfelves ? This,
*' though it feems not to want difficulty, yet I think there be two
" forts of ideas that we may be affured agree with things."

We fee that Mr Locke was aware no lefs than Des Cartes,
that the doctrine of ideas made it neceflary, and at the fame time
difficult, to prove the exiftence of a material world without us ;
becaufe the mind, according to that do(5lrine, perceives nothing
but a world of ideas in itfelf. Not only Des Cartes, but Male-
branche, Arnauld, and Norris, had perceived this difficulty,
and attempted to remove it with little fuccefs. Mr Locke attempts
the fame thing ; but his arguments are feeble. He even feems to be
confcious of this : For he concludes his reafoning with this obfer-
vation, " That we have evidence fufficient to dire(5l us in attaining
" the good and avoiding the evil, caufed by external obje(5ls, and
*' that this is the important concern we have in being made ac-
*' quainted with them." This indeed is faying no more than will
be granted by thofe who deny the exiftence of a material world.

As there is no material difference between Locke and Des
Cartes with regard to the perception of obje<5ls by the fenfes,
there is the lefs occafion, in this place, to take notice of all their
differences in other points. They differed about the origin of our
ideas. Des Cartes thought fome of them were innate : The other
maintained, that there are no innate ideas, and that they are all de-
rived from two fources, to wit, fenfation and refleSfion ; meaning
by fenfation, the operations of our external fenfes ; and by refledlion,
that attention which we are capable of giving to the operations of
pur own minds.

T They

146 ESSAY II.

CHAP. IX. They difFered with regard to the efTence both of matter and of
mind: The Britifli Philofopher holding, that. the real efTence of
both is beyond the reach of human knowledge ; the other con-
ceiving, that the very efTence of mind confifts in thought ; and that
of matter in extenfion ; by which he made matter and fpace not to
difFer in reality, and no part of fpace to be void of matter.

• Mr Locke explained, more diftincftly than had been done before,
the operations of the mind in clafling the various obje6ls of thought,
and reducing them to genera and fpecies. He was the firfl, I think,
who diflinguifhed in fubftances what he calls the nominal efTence,
which is only the notion we form of a genus or fpecies, and which
we exprefs by a definition ; from the real eflence or internal con-
flitution of the thing, which makes it to be what it is. Without
this diftindlion, the fubtile difputes which tortured the fchoolmen
for fo many ages, in the controverfy between the nominalifts and
realifls, could never be brought to an ifTue. He Ihews difkinclly
how we form abflracfl and general notions, and the ufe and ne-
ceffity of them in reafoning. And as (according to the received
principles of Philofophers) every notion of our mind mufl have for
its obje(fl an idea in the mind itfelf ; he thinks that we form ab-
ftra(5l ideas by leaving out of the idea of an individual every thing
wherein it differs from other individuals of the fame fpecies or
genus ; and that this power of forming abflracft ideas, is that which
chiefly diflinguifhes us from brute animals, in whom h.e could fee
no evidence of any abflradl ideas.

Since the time of Des Carte-s, Philofophers have differed inuch
with regard to the fhare they afcribe to the mind itfelf, in the fa-
brication of thofe reprefentative beings called idcas^ and the man-
ner in which this work is carried on.

Of the authors I have met with, Dr Robert Hook is the moft
explicit. He was one of the mofl ingenious and aifkive members
of the Royal Society of London at its firfl inflitution j and fre-
quently

OF THE SENTIMENTS dF Mr LOCKE. 147

quently read leflures to the Society, which were publiflicd among CHAP. ix.
his poft humous works. In his ledlures upon light, Se6V. 7. he
makes ideas to be material fubftances ; and thinks that the brain
is furniflaed with a proper kind of matter for fabricating the ideas
of each fenfe. The ideas of fight he thinks are formed of a kind
of matter refembling the Bononian ftone, or fome kind of phof-
phorus ; that the ideas of found are formed of fome matter refem-
bling the chords or glalTes which take a found from the vibrations
of the air; and fo of the reft. o jJ/...

The foul, he thinks, may fabricate fome hundreds of thofe ideas
in a day ; and that as they are formed, they are pufhed farther off
from the centre of the brain where the foul refides. By this means
they make a continued chain of ideas, coyled up in the brain, the
firft end of which is fartheft removed from the centre or feat of
the foul ; and the other end is always at the centre, being the laft
idea formed, which is always prefent the moment when confidered;
and therefore, according as there is a greater number of ideas be-
tween the prefent fenfation or thought in the centre and any other,
the foul is apprehenlive of a larger portion of time interpofed.

Mr Locke has not entered into fo minute a detail of this manu-
fadlure of ideas; but he afcribes to the mind a very confiderable
hand in forming its own ideas. With regard to our fenfations,
the mind is paffive, " they being produced in us, only by differ-
*' ent degrees and modes of motion in our animal fpirits, vari-
*' oufly agitated by external objecSIs :" Thefe, however, ceafe to be,
as foon as they ceafe to be perceived ; but, by the faculties of me-
mory and imagination, " the mind has an ability, when it wills,
*' to revive them again, and, as it were, to paint them anew upon
" itfelf, though fome with more, fome with lefs difficulty."

As to the ideas of refledlion, he afcribes them to no other caufe
but to that attention which the mind is capable of giving to its
own operations ; Thefe, therefore, are formed by the mind itfelf.

T 2 He

148 ESSAY II.

CHAP. IX. He afcrlbes like wife to the mind the power of compounding its
fimple ideas into complex ones of various forms ; of repeating
them, and adding the repetitions together ; of dividing and clafling
them ; of comparing them, and, from that comparifon, of form-
ing the ideas of their relation ; nay, of forming a general idea of
a fpecies or genus, by taking from the idea of an individual eve-
ry thing by which it is diftinguifhed from other individuals of the
kind, till at laft it becomes an abftradl general idea, common to
all the individuals of the kind.

Thefe, I think, are the powers which Mr Locke afcribes to the
mind itfelf in the fabrication of its ideas. Bilhop Berkeley, as
we Ihall fee afterwards, abridged them confiderably, and Mr Hume
much more.

The ideas we have of the various qualities of bodies are not all,
as Mr Locke thinks, of the fame kind. Some of them are images
or refemblances of what is really in the body ; others are not.
There are certain qualities infeparable from matter ; fuch as exten-
iion, folidity, figure, mobility. Our ideas of thefe are real refem-
blances of the qualities in the body ; and thefe he calls primary
qualities : But colour, found, tafte, fmell, heat, and cold, he calls
fecondary qualities, and thinks that they are only powers in bodies
of producing certain fenfations in us ; which fenfations have no-
thing refembling them, though they are commonly thought to be
cxadl refemblances of fomething in the body. " Thus, fays he,
*' the idea of heat or light, which we receive, by our eye or
" touch, from the fun, are commonly thought real qualities exift-
*' ing in the fun, and fomething more than mere powers in it."

The names of primary and fecondary qualities, were, I believe,
firft ufed by Mr Locke ; but the diftindion, which they exprefs,
was well underftood by Des Cartes, and is explained by him in
his Pr'wcipia^ part 1. fe<5^. 69, 70, 71,

Although

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr LOCKE. 149

Although no author has more merit than Mr Locke, in point- chap. ix.
ing out the ambiguity of words, and refolving, by that means,
many knotty queflions, which had tortured the wits of the fchool-
men ; yet, I apprehend he has been fometimes mifled by the am-
biguity of the word idea^ which he ufes fo often almoft in every
page of his eflay.

In the exphcation given of this word, we took notice of two
meanings given to it ; a popular and a philofophical. In the po-
pular meaning, to have an idea of any thing, (ignifies nothing
more than to think of it.

Although the operations of the mind are mofl properly and na-
turally, and indeed moft commonly in all vulgar languages, ex-
prelTed by adlive verbs, there is another way of expreffing them
lefs common, but equally well underftood. To think of a thing,
and to have a thought of it ; to believe a thing, and to have a be-
lief of it ; to fee a thing, and have a fight of it ; to conceive a
thing, and to have a conception, notion, or idea of it, are phrafes
perfed^ly fynonymous. In thefe phrafes, the thought means no-
thing but the a(5l of thinking ; the belief, the adl of believing ;
and the conception, notion, or idea, the adl of conceiving. To
have a clear and diftindl idea, is, in this fenfe, nothing elfe but to
conceive the thing clearly and diflindlly. When the word idea is
taken in this popular fenfe, there can be no doubt of our having
ideas in our minds. To think without ideas would be to think
without thought, which is a manifeft contradidlion.

But there is another meaning of the word idea peculiar to Philo-
fophers, and grounded upon a philofophical theory, which the
vulgar never think of. Philofophers, ancient and modern, have
maintained, that the operations of the mind, like the tools of an
artificer, can only be employed upon obje(51s that are prefent, in
the mind, or in the brain, where the mind is fuppofed to refide.
Therefore, objedls that are diflant, in time or place, mufl have a

reprefentative

ijo ESSAY II.

CHAP. IX. leprefeiitatlve in the mind, or in the brain ; fome image or pidlure
of them, wliich is the objedl that the mind contemplates. This
reprefcntative image was, in the old philofophy, called n /pedes or
phantaffn. Since the time of Des Cartls, it has more commonly
been called an idea; and every thought is conceived to have an
idea of its objecfl. As this has been a common opinion among
Philofophers, as far back as we can trace philofophy, ic is the lefs
to be wondered at, that they fhould be apt to confound the opera-
tion of the mind in thinking, with the idea or obje(5l of thought,
which is fuppofed to be its infeparable concomitant.

If we pay any regard to the common fenfe of mankind, thought
and the obje«5l of thought are different things, and ought to be di-
ftinguifhed. It is true, thought cannot be without an object ; for
every man who thinks muft think of fomething ; but the objedl he
thinks of is one thing, his thought of that objedl is another thing.
They are diflinguiflied in all languages even by the vulgar; and
many things may be affirmed of thought, that is, of the opera-
tion of the mind in thinking, which cannot without error, and
even abfurdity, be affirmed of the objedl of that operation.

From this, I think it is evident, that if the word idea^ in a work
where it occurs in every paragraph, is ufed without any intima-
tion of the ambiguity of the word, fometimes to fignify thought,
or the operation of the mind in thinking, fometimes to fignify thofe
internal objedls of thought which Philofophers fuppofc, this muft
occafion confufion in the thoughts both of the author and of the
readers. I take this to be the greateft blemifh in the EfTay on hu-
man underftanding. I apprehend this is the true fource of feve-
rai paradoxical opinions in that excellent work, which I Ihall have
occafion to take notice of.

Here it is very natural to aflc, Whether it was Mr Locke's opi-
nion, that ideas are the only objedls of thought ? or, Whether it
is not poffible for men to think of things which are not ideas in the
mind ?

To

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr LOCKE. 151

To this queftlon ic is not eafy to give a diredl anfwer. On the CHap^X.
one hand, he fays often, in diflincfl and ftudied expreflions, that
the term idea ftands for whatever is the objedl of the underftand-
ing when a man thinks, or whatever it is which the mind can be
employed about in thinking : That the mind perceives nothing but
its own ideas : That all knowledge confifts in the perception of the
agreement or difagreement of our ideas : That we can have no
knowledge farther than we have ideas. Thefe, and many other
expreflions of the like import, evidently imply, that every obje(5l
of thought muft be an idea, and can be nothing elfe.

On the other hand, I am perfuaded that Mr Locke would have
acknowledged, that we may think of Alexander the Great, or
of the planet Jupiter, and of numberlefs things, which he would
have owned are not ideas in the mind, but objedls which exift in-
dependent of the mind that thinks of them.

How fhall we reconcile the two parts of this apparent contra-
di<flion ? All I am able to fay upon Mr Locke's principles to recon-
cile them, is this, That we cannot think of Alexander, or of the
planet Jupiter, unlefs we have in our minds an idea, that is, an
image or picture of thofe objec5ls. The idea of Alexander is an
image, or pi<fture, or reprefentation of that hero in my mind ; and
this idea is the immediate objedl of my thought when I think of
Alexander. That this was Locke's opinion, and that it has
been generally the opinion of Philofophers, there can be no doubt.

But, inftead of giving light to the queftion propofed, it feems
to involve it in greater darknefs.

When I think of Alexander, I am told there is an image or
idea of Alexander in my mind, which is the immediate objedl
of this thought. The necefliiry confequence of this feems to be,
that there are two objects of this thought ; the idea, which is in
the mind, and the perfon reprefented by that idea ; the firft, the

immediate

152

ESSAY II.

CHAP. IX. immediate obje<5l of the thought, the laft, the objedl of the
fame thought, but not the immediate objedl. This is a hard fay-
ing ; for it makes every thought of things external to have a double
objedl. Every man is confcious of his thoughts, and yet, upon
attentive refledlion, he perceives no fuch duplicity in the objedl he
thinks about. Sometimes men fee objecfls double, but they always
know when they do fo : And I know of no Philofopher who has
exprefsly owned this duplicity in the obje<fl of thought, though it
follows neceffarily from maintaining, that, in the fame thought,
there is one objedl, that is immediate and in the mind itfelf, and
another obje(5t, which is not immediate, and which is not in the
mind.

Befides this, it feems very hard, or rather impofUble, to under-
(land what is meant by an objedl of thought, that is not an imme-
diate objedl of thought. A body in motion may move another
that was at reft, by the medium of a third body that is interpofed.
This is eafily underftood ; but we are unable to conceive any me-
dium interpofed between a mind and the thought of that mind ;
and, to think of any objedl by a medium, feems to be words
without any meaning. There is a fenfe in which a thing may be
faid to be perceived by a medium. Thus any kind of fign may
be faid to be the medium by which I perceive or underftand the
thing fignified. The fign, by cuftom, or compadl, or perhaps
by nature, introduces the thought of the thing fignified. But
here the thing fignified, when it is introduced to the thought, is
an objedl of thought no lefs immediate than the fign was before :
And there are here two objedls of thought, one fucceeding another,
■which we have fhown is not the cafe with refpedl to an idea, and
the objedl it reprefents,

I apprehend, therefore, that if Philofophers will maintain that
ideas in the mind are the only immediate objedls of thought, they
will be forced to grant that they are the fole objedls of thought,
and that it is impoflible for men to think of any thing elfe. Yet,

furely,

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr LOCKE. .153

furely, Mr Locke believed that we can think of many things that CHAP. IX.
are not ideas in the mind ; but he feems not to have perceived,
that the maintaining that ideas in the mind are the only immediate
objedts of thought, muft necefTarily draw this confequence along
with it.

The confequence, however, was feen by Bifhop Berkeley and
Mr Hume, who rather chofe to admit the confequence than to
give up the principle from which it follows.

Perhaps it was unfortunate for Mr Locke, that he ufed the word
idea fo very frequently, as to make it very difficult to give the at-
tention neceflary to put it always to the fame meaning. And it
appears evident, that, in many places, he means nothing more
by it but the notion or conception we have of any objefl of thought;
that is, the adl of the mind in conceiving it, and not the objedl
conceived.

In explaining this word, he fays, that he ufes it for whatever is
meant by phantafm, notion, fpecies. Here are three fynonymes
to the word idea. The firfl: and laft are very proper to exprefs the
philofophical meaning of the word, being terms of art in the Pe-
ripatetic philofophy, and fignifying images of external things in
the mind, which, according to that philofophy, are objects of
thought. But the word notion is a word in common language,
whofe meaning agrees exadlly with the popular meaning of the
word idea^ but not with the philofophical.

When thefe two different meanings of the word idea are con-
founded in a fludied explication of it, there is little reafon to expedl
that they fhould be carefully diflinguifhed in the frequent ufe of
it. There are many paffages in the Effay, in which, to make them
intelligible, the word idea muft be taken in one of thofe fenfes,
and many others, in which it muft be taken in the other. It feems
probable, that the author, not attending to this ambiguity of the

U word.

154 E S S A Y n.

CHAP. IX. •vvord, ufed it in the one fenfe or the other, as the fubjed-matter
required ; and the far greater part of his readers have done the
fame.

There is a third fenfe, in which he ufes the word not unfre-
quently, to fignify objeds of thought that are not in the mind,
but external. Of this he feems to be fenfible, and fomewhere
makes an apology for it. When he affirms, as he does in innu-
merable places, that all human knowledge confifts in the percep-
tion of the agreement or difagreement of our ideas, it is impoffible
to put a meaning upon this, confident with his principles, unlefs
he means by ideas every objed of human thought, whether me-
diate or immediate; every thing, in a word, that can be fignified
by the fubjedl, or predicate of a propofition.

Thus we fee, that the word Idea has three different meanings in
the Effay ; and the author feems to have ufed it fometimes in one,
fometimes in another, without being aware of any change in the
meaning. The reader flides eafily into the fame fallacy, that
meaning occurring mofl: readily to his mind which gives the beft
fenfe to what he reads. I have met with perfons profefFing no
flight acquaintance with the EfTay on human underftanding, who
maintained, that the word idea^ wherever it occurs, means no-
thing more than thought ; and that where he fpeaks of ideas as
images in the mind, and as obje(5ls of thought, he is not to be un-
derflood as fpeaking properly, but figuratively or analogically :
And indeed I apprehend, that it would be no fmall advantage to
many paffages in the book, if they could admit of this interpre-
tation.

It is not the fault of this Philofopher alone to have given too
little attention to the diflindlion between the operations of the
mind and the objecls of thofe operations. Although this dlftinc-
tion be familiar to the vulgar, and found in the flrudlure of aU
languages, Philofophers, when they fpeak of ideas, often confound

the

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr LOCKE. 155

the two together ; and their theory concerning ideas has led them CHAP. ix.

to do fo : For ideas being fuppofed to be a fhadowy kind of beings, '

intermediate between the thought, and the objedl of thought, fome-

times feem to coalefce with the thought, fometimes with the obje(5l

of thought, and fometimes to have a diftind exiflence of their

own.

The fame philofophical theory of ideas has led Philofophers to
confound the different operations of the underftanding, and to call
them all by the name of perception. Mr Locke, though not free
from this fault, is not fo often chargeable with it, as fome who
came after him. The vulgar give the name of perception to that
immediate knowledge of external objedls which we have by our
external fenfes. This is its proper meaning in our language, though
fometimes it may be applied to other things metaphorically or ana-
logically. When I think of any thing that does not exift, as of
the republic of Oceana, I do not perceive it ; I only conceive or
imagine it : When I think of what happened to me yefterday, I do
not perceive but remember it : When I am pained with the gout,
it is not proper to fay I perceive the pain ; I feel it ; or am confci-
ous of it : It is not an objedl of perception, but of fenfation and of
confcioufnefs. So far the vulgar diftinguifh very properly the dif-
ferent operations of the mind, and never confound the names of
things fo different in their nature : But the theory of ideas leads
Philofophers to conceive all thofe operations to be of one nature,
and to give them one name : They are all, according to that theory,
the perception of ideas in the mind. Perceiving, remembering,
imagining, being confcious, are all perceiving ideas in the mind,
and are called perceptions. Hence it is that Philofophers fpeak of
the perceptions of memory, and the perceptions of imagination.
They make fenfation to be a perception ; and every thing we per-
ceive by our fenfes to be an idea of fenfation : Sometimes they fay,
that they are confcious of the ideas in their own minds, fometimes
that they perceive them.

U 2 However

156 E S S A Y ir.

CHAP. X- However Improbable it may appear tha.t Philofophers, who have
taken pains to fludy the operations of their own minds, {hould ex-
prefs them lefs properly, and lefs diftindlly than the vulgar, it
feems really to be the cafe ; and the only account that can be given
of this flrange phaenomenon, I take to be this: That the vulgar
leek no theory to account for the operations of their minds ; they
know that they fee, and hear, and remember, and imagine ; and
thofe who think diftindlly will exprefs thefe operations diftindly,
as their confcioufnefs reprefents them to the mind : But Philofophers
think they ought to know not only that there are fuch operations,
but how they are performed ; how they fee, and hear, and remem-
ber, and imagine; and, having invented a theory to explain thefe
operations, by ideas or images in the mind, they fuit their expref^
lions to their theory ; and as a falfe comment throws a cloud upon
the text, fo a falfe theory darkens the phsenomena which it attempts
to explain.

We fhall examine this theory afterwards. Here I would only
obferve, that if it is not true, it may be expeded that it ihould
lead ingenious men who adopt it to confound the operations of the
mind with their objedls, and with one another, even where the
common language of the unlearned clearly diftinguiflies them.
One that trufts to a falfe guide is in greater danger of being led
aftray than he who trufts his own eyes, though he fhould be but
indifferently acquainted with the road.

CHAP. X.

Of the Sentiments of B'tjhop Berkeley.

GEORGE BERKELEY, afterwards Bifhop of Cloyne, pub-
liflied his new Theory of Vifion in 1709; his Treatife on
the Principles of Human Knowledge in 1710; and his Dialogues

between

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 157

between Hylas and Philonous in 1713; being then a Fellow of pHAP. X.

Trinity College, Dublin. He is acknowledged viniverfally to have

great merit as an excellent writer, and a very acute and clear rea-

foner on the mod abllradl fubjeds, not to fpeak of his virtues as

a man, which were very confpicuous : Yet the dodrine chiefly

held forth in the Treatifes above mentioned, efpecially in the two

laft, has generally been thought fo very abfurd, that few can be

brought to think that he either believed it himfelf, or that he feri^

oufly meant to perfuade others of its truth.

.He maintains, and thinks he has demonflrated, by a variety of
arguments, grounded on principles of philofophy univerfally re-
ceived, that there is no fuch thing as matter in the univerfe; that
fun and moon, earth and fea, our own bodies, and thofe of our
friends, are nothing but ideas in the minds of thofe \yho think q^
them, and th*it tliey have no exiflence when they ^e not the
pbjedls of thought; that all that is in the univerfe may be redur
ced to two categories, to wit, minds, and ideas in the mind.

But however ^bfiird this dodtrine might appear to the unlearned,
who confider the exiftence of the objects of fenfe as the moft evi-
dent of all truths, and what no man in his fenfes can doubt ; the
Philofophers who had been accuftomed to confider ideas as the im- /
mediate objedts of all thought, had no title to view this do(5lrine
of Berkeley in fo unfavourable a light.

They were taught by Des Cartes, and by all that came after
him, that the exiftence of the objeifls of fenfe is not felf-evident,
but requires to be proved by arguments ; and although Des
Cartes, and many others, had laboured to find arguments for
this purpofe, there did not appear to be that force and clearnefs in
them which might have been expefted in a matter of fuch im^
portance. Mr Norris had declared, that after all the argument*
that had been offered, the exiftence of an external world is only
probable, but by no means certain. Malebranche thought it

refted

158 ESSAY II.

CHAP. X. Tefted upon the authority of revelation, and that the arguments
drawn from reafon were not perfedlly conclufive. Others thought,
that the argument from revelation was a mere fophifm, becaufe
revelation comes to us by our fenfes, and mud reft upon their au-
thority.

Thus we fee, that the new philofophy had been making gradual
approaches towards Berkeley's opinion ; and, whatever others
might do, the Philofophers had no title to look upon it as abfurd,
or unworthy of a fair examination. Several authors attempted
to anfwer his arguments, but with little fuccefs, and others ac-
knowledged that they could neither anfwer them nor affent to
them. It is probable the Bifhop made but few converts to his
dodlrine ; but it is certain he made fome ; and that he himfelf
continued, to the end of his life, firmly perfuaded, not only of
its truth, but of its great importance for the improvement of hu-
man knowledge, and efpecially for the defence of religion. Dial.
Pref. *' If the principles which I here endeavour to propagate are
admitted for true, the confequences which I think evidently
flow from thence are, that atheifm and fcepticifm will be utter-
ly deftroyed, many intricate points made plain, great difficul-
ties folved, feveral ufelefs parts of fcience retrenched, fpecula-
tion referred to pradlice, and men reduced from paradoxes to
common fenfe."

In the Theory of vifion, he goes no farther than to afTert that
the objedls of fight are nothing but ideas in the mind, granting,
or at leaft not denying, that there is a tangible world, which is
really external, and which exifts whether we perceive it or not.
Whether the reafon of this was, that his fyftem had not, at that
time, wholly opened to his own mind, or whether he thought it
prudent to let it enter into the minds of his readers by degrees,
I cannot fay. I think he infinuates the laft as the reafon in the
Principles of human knowledge.

The

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 159

The Theory of vifion, however, taken by itfelf, and without re- CHAP. X.
latlon to the main branch of his fyftem, contains very important clif-
coveries, and marks of great genius. Hediftinguiflies, more accurate-
ly than any that wentbefore'hlm, between the immediate objeds of
fight, and thofe of the other fenfes which are early affociated with
them. He fhews, that diftance, of itfelf, and Immediately, is not
feen ; but that we learn to judge of it by certain fenfations and
perceptions which are connedled with it. This is a very important
obfcrvation ; and, I believe, was firft made by this author. It
gives much new light to the operations of our fenfes, and ferves
to account for many phaenomena in optics, of which the greateft
adepts in that fcience had always either given a falfe account, or
acknowledged that they could give none at all.

We may obferve, by the way," that the ingenious author feems
not to have attended to a diftindion, by which his general afler-
tion ought to have been limited. It is true that the diftance of
an objedl from the eye is not immediately feen; but there is a
certain kind of diftance of one objedl from another which we fee
immediately. The author acknowledges, that there is a vifible
extenfion, and vifible figures, which are proper objedls of fight ;
there muft therefore be a vifible diftance. Aftronomers call it
angular diftance ; and although they meafure it by the angle,
which is made by two lines drawn from the eye to the two diftant
objedls, yet it is immediately perceived by fight, even by thofe
who never thought of that angle.

He led the way in Ihewing how. we learn to perceive the diftance
of an objedl from the eye, though this fpeculation was carried
farther by others who came after him. He made the diftindion
between that extenfion and figure which we perceive by fight on.-
ly, and that which we perceive by touch ; calling the firft, vifible,
the laft, tangible extenfion and figure. He Ihewed likewife, that
tangible extenfion, and not vifible, is the objed of geometry, al-

thougti

i6o " ESSAY II.

2^t*i^ though Mathematicians commonly ufe vifible diagrams in their
demonftrations.

The notion of extenfion and figure which we get from fight
only, and that which we get from touch, have been fo conftant-
ly conjoined from our infancy in all the judgments we form of
the objedls of fenfe, that it required great abilities to diftin-
guifh them accurately, and to affign to each fenfe what truly be-
longs to it ; " fo difficult a thing it is," as Berkeley juftly ob-
ferves, " to difl!blve an union fo early begun, and confirmed by
*' fo long a habit." This point he has laboured, through the
whole of the ElTay on vifion, with that uncommon penetration
and judgment which he poflefled, and with as great fuccefs as
could be expe(Sled in a firfl attempt upon fo abftrufe a fubjedl.

He concludes this EfFay, by fhewing, in no lefs than feven fec-
tions, the notions which an intelligent being, endowed with fight,
without the fenfe of touch, might form of the objec5ls of fenfe.
This fpeculation, to fliallow thinkers, may appear to be egregious
trifling,' To Biftiop Berkeley it appeared in another light, and
will do fo to thofe who are capable of entering into it, and who
know the importance of it, in folving many of the phsenomena of
vifion. He feems, indeed, to have exerted more force of genius
in this than in the main branch of his fyflem.

In the new philofophy, the pillars by which the exiftence of a
material world was fupported, were fo feeble, that it did not re-
quire the force of a Samson to bring them down ; and in this
we have not fo much reafon to admire the ftrength of Berkeley's
genius, as his boldncfs in publiftiing to the world an opinion,
which the unlearned would be apt to interpret as the fign of a crazy
intelleifl. A man who was firmly perfuaded of the dodlrine uni-
verfally received by Philofophers concerning ideas, if he could but
take courage to call in qvieftion the exiftence of a material world,
would eafily find unanfwerable arguments in that dodlrine. " Some

" truths

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. i6i

" truths there are, fays Berkeley, fo near and obvious to the CHAP. X.^

" mind, that a man need only open his eyes to fee them. Such,

*' he adds, I take this important one to be, that all the choir of

** heaven, and furniture of the earth ; in a word, all thofe bodies

** which compofe the mighty frame of the world, have not any

*' fubfiftence without a mind." Princ. § 6.

The principle from which this important concluflon is obvioufly
deduced, is laid down in the firft fentence of his principles of
knowledge as evident ; and indeed it has always been acknow-
ledged by Philofophers. " It is evident, fays he, to any one who
takes a furvey of the objedls of human knowledge, that they
are either ideas adlually imprinted on the fenfes, or elfe fuch as
are perceived, by attending to the paffions and operations of the
mind ; or, laftly, ideas formed by help of memory and imagina-
tion, either compounding, dividing, or barely reprefenting thofe
originally perceived in the forefaid ways."

This is the foundation on which the whole fyftem refts. If this
be true ; then, indeed, the exiftence of a material world muft be
a dream that has impofed upon all mankind from the beginning
of the world.

The foundation on which fuch a fabric refts ought to be very
folid, and well eftablifhed ; yet Berkeley fays nothing more for it
than that it is evident. If he means that it is felf-evident ; this,
indeed, might be a good rcafon for not offering any dire6l argu-
ment in proof of it. But I apprehend this cannot jnftlybe faid.
Self-evident propofitions are thofe which appear evident to every
man of found underftanding who apprehends the meaning of them
diftin(5tly, and attends to them without prejudice. Can this be
faid of this propofition, that all the objeds of our knowledge are
ideas in our own minds ? I believe, that, to any man uninftruifled
in philofophy, this propofition will appear very improbable, if not
abfurd. However fcanty his knowledge may be, he confiders the

X fun

i6a ESSAY II.

CHAP. X. fun and moon, the earth and fea, as objeds of it : And it will be
difficult to perfuade him, that thofc objedls of his knowledge are
ideas in his own mind, and have no exiftence, when he does not
think of them. If I may prefumc to fpeak my own fentiments, I
once believed this do<5lrine of ideas fo firmly, as to embrace the
whole of Berkeley's fyftem in confequence of it ; till, finding
^ther confequences to follow from it, which gave me more unea-
finefs than the want of a material world, it came into my mind>
more than forty years ago, to put the queftion. What evidence
have I for this do<5lrine, that all the objecfls of my knowledge are
ideas in my own mind ? From that time to the prefent, I have
been candidly and impartially, as I think, feeking for the evidence
of this principle, but can find none, excepting the authority of
Philofophers.

We fhall have occafion to examine its evidence afterwards. I
would at prefent only obferve, that all the arguments brought by
Berkeley againft the exirtence of a material world are grounded
upon it ; and that he has not attempted to give any evidence for
it, but takes it for granted, as other Philofophers had done before
him.

But fuppofing this principle to be true, Berkeley's fyftem is
impregnable. No demonftration can be more evident than his rea-
foning from it. Whatever is perceived is an idea, and an idea can
only exift in a mind. It has no exiftence when it is not perceived ;
nor can there be any thing like an idea, but an idea.

So fenfible he was, that it required no laborious reafbning to de-
duce his fyftem from the principle laid down, that he was afraid of
being thought needlefsly prolix in handling the fubjedl, and makes
an apology for it. Princ. ^22. " To what purpofe is it, fays he,
" to dilate, upon that which may be demonftrated, with the utmoft^
• " evidence, in a line or two, to any one who is capable of the
" leaft reflection." But though his demonftration might have been

comprehended

«(

C(

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. l6j

comprehended in a line or two, he very prudently thought, that CHAP. X.^
an opinion, which the world would be apt to look upon as a mon-
fter of abfurdity, would not be able to make its way at once, even
by the force of a naked demonftration. He obferves juftly. Dial. 2.
That though a demonftration be never fo well grounded, and
fairly propofed, yet, if there is, withal, a ftrain of prejudice,
or a wrong bias on the underftanding, can it be expedled to per-
** ceive clearly, and adhere firmly to the truth ? No ; there is need
** of time and pains ; the attention muft be awakened and detain-
** ed, by a frequent repetition of the fame thing, placed often in
** the fame, often in different lights."

It was therefore neceffary to dwell upon it, and turn it on all
fides till it became familiar ; to confider all its confequences, and
to obviate every prejudice and prepoffeflion that might hinder its
admittance. It was even a matter of fome difficulty to fit it to
common language, fo far as to enable men to fpeak and reafon
about it intelligibly. Thofe who have entered ferioufly into Ber-
keley's fyftem, have found, after the all afliftance which his wri-
tings give, that time and practice are neceffary to acquire the ha-
bit of fpeaking and thinking diftin<5lly upon it.

Berkeley forefaw the oppofition that would be made to his
fyftem, from two different quarters ; jirji^ from the Philofophers ;
and, fecondly^ from the vulgar, who are led by the plain dicflates of
nature. The firft he had the courage to oppofe openly and avow-
edly ; the fecond he dreaded much more, and therefore takes a
great deal of pains, and, I think, ufes fome art, to court into his
party. This is particularly obfervable in his Dialogues. He fets
out with a declaration. Dial. i. " That, of late, he had quitted
" feveral of the fublime notions he had got in the fchools of the
" Philofophers for vulgar opinions," and affures Hylas, his fel-
low-dialogift, " That, fince this revolt from metaphyfical notions
*' to the plain didlates of nature, and common fenfe, he found his *
'* underftanding ftrangely enlightened ; fo that he could now eafily

X 2 " comprehend

i64 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. X.^ « comprehend a great many things, which before were all myfte-
" ry and riddle." Pref. to Dial. " If his principles are admitted for
" true, men will be reduced from paradoxes to common fenfe."
At the fame time, he acknowledges, " That they carry with them
" a great oppofition to the prejudices of Philofophers, which have
" fo far prevailed againft the common fenfe and natural notions of
" mankind."

When Hylas objedls to him, Dial. 3. " You can never per-
" fuade me Phtlonous, that the denying of matter or corporeal
" fubftance is not repugnant to the univerfal fenfe of mankind."
He anfwers, " I wilh both our opinions were fairly ftated, and fub-
" mitted to the judgment of men who had plain common fenfe,
" without the prejudices of a learned education. Let me be re-
" prefented as one who trufts his fenfes, who thinks he knows the
" things he fees and feels, and entertains no doubt of their exift-
" ence. — If by material fubftance is meant only fenfible body, that
" which is feen and felt, (and the unphilofophical part of the
" world, I dare fay mean no more), then I am more certain of
" matter's exiftence than you or any other Philofopher pretend to
" be. If there be any thing which makes the generality of man-
" kind averfe from the notions I efpoufe, it is a mifapprehenfion
" that I deny the reality of fenfible things : But as it is you who
" are guilty of that, and not I, it follows, that, in truth, their
" averfion is againft your notions, and not mine. — I am content to
" appeal to the common fenfe of the world for the truth of my no-
" tion. — I am of a vulgar caft, funple enough to believe my fenfes,
" and to leave things as I find them. — I cannot, for my life, help
" thinking, that fnow is white, and fire hot."

When Hylas is at laft entirely converted, he obferves to Pur-
LONOUS, " After all, the controverfy about matter, in the ftri<5l ac-
" ceptation of it, lies altogether between you and the Philofophers,
" whofe principles, I acknow^ledge, are not near fo natural, or fo agree-
" able to the common fenfe of mankind, and holy fcripture, as yours."

Philonous

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 165

Philonous obferves in the end, " That he does not pretend to be CHAP, x.^

" a fetter up of new notions, his endeavours tend only to unite,

" and to place in a clearer light, that truth which was before

" fhared between the vulgar and the Philofophers ; the former

*' being of opinion, that thofe things they immediately perceive

" are the real things ; and the latter, that the things immediately

" perceived are ideas which exift only in the mind ; which two .

" things put together do, in efFedl, conflitute the fubftance of what

" he advances :" And he concludes by obferving, " That thofe

" principles, which at firfl view lead to fcepticifm, purfued to a

" certain point, bring men back to common fenfe."

Thefe pafTages fliow fufficiently the author's concern to reconcile
his fyftem to the plain dictates of nature and common fenfe, while
he exprefles no concern to reconcile it to the received dodlrines of
Philofophers. He is fond to take part with the, vulgar againft the
Philofophers, and to vindicate common fenfe againft their innova-
tions. What pity is it that he did not carry this fufpicion of the
dodlrine of Philofophers fo far as to doubt of that philofophical
tenet on which his whole fyftem is built, to wit, that the things
immediately perceived by the fenfes are ideas which exift only in
the mind !

After all, it feems no eafy matter to make the vulgar opinion
and that of Berkeley to meet. And to accomplifti this, he feems
to me to draw each out of its line towards the other, not without
fome ftraining.

The vulgar opinion he reduces to this, that the very things which
we perceive by our fenfes do really exift. This he grants: For
thefe things, fays he, are ideas in our minds, or complexions af
ideas, to which we give one name, and confider as one thing ;
thefe are the immediate objeds of fenfe, and thefe do really exift.
As to the notion, that thofe things have an abfolute external ex-
iftence, independent of being perceived by any mind, he thinks

that

i66 ESSAY II.

CHAP. X. that this is no notion of the vulgar, but a refinement of Philofo-
phers ; and that the notion of material fubflance, as a Juhjlratum^
or fupport of that colledion of fenfible qualities to which we give
the name of an apple or a melon, is likewife an invention of Phi-
lofophers, and is not found with the vulgar till they are inftrudled
by Philofophers. The fubflance not being an obje(fl of fenfe, the
vulgar never think of it ; or, if they are taught the ufe of the
word, they mean no more by it but that colle<flion of fenfible qua-
lities which they, from finding them conjoined in nature, have
been accuflomed to call by one name, and to confider as one thing.

Thus he draws the vulgar opinion near to his own ; and, that
he may meet it half way, he acknowledges, that material things
have a real exiflence out of the mind of this or that perfon ; but
the queflion, fays he, between the materialifl and me, is. Whether
they have an abfolute exiftence diflindl from their being perceived
by God, and exterior to all minds ? This indeed, he fays, fome
Heathens and Philofophers have aflSrmed ; but whoever entertains
notions of the Deity, fuitable to the holy fcripture, will be of ano-
ther opinion.

But here an objedlion occurs, which it required all his inge-
nuity to anfwer. It is this : The ideas in my mind cannot be the
fame with the ideas of any other mind j therefore, if the obje<Sls I
perceive be only ideas, it is impofTible that the objedls I perceive
can exifl any where, when I do not perceive them ; and it is im-
poflible that two or more minds can perceive the fame objedl.

To this Berkeley anfwers, that this objedlion prefTes no lefs
the opinion of the materialifl Philofopher than his : But the diffi-
culty is to make his opinion coincide with the notions of the vulgar,
who are firmly perfuaded, that the very identical obje<fls which
they perceive, continue to exifl when they do not perceive them ;
and who are no lefs firmly perfuaded, that when ten men look at
the fun or the moon, they all fee the fame individual objed.

To

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 167

To reconcile this repugnancy, he obferves, Dial. 3. " That if CHAP.X.^

the ttvra fame be taken in the vulgar acceptation, it is certain,

(and not at all repugnant to the principles he maintains,) that

different perfons may perceive the fame thing ; or the fame thing

or idea exift in different minds. Words are of arbitrary impo-

fition ; and fince men are ufed to apply the word fame^ where

no difl:in(5lion or variety is perceived, and he does not pretend

to alter their perceptions, it follows, that as men have faid be-

ioxty fever al faw the fame thing', fo they may, upon like occalions,

ftill continue to ufe the fame phrafe without any deviation, either

from propriety of language or the truth of thiings : But if the

term fame be ufed in the acceptation of Philofophers, who

pretend to an abftradled notion of identity, then, according*

to their fundry definitions of this term, (for it is not yet agreed

wherein that philofophic identity confifts,) it may or may not

be pofllble for divers perfons to perceive the fame thing : But

whether Philofophers fhall think fit to call a thing the fame or

no, is, I conceive, of fmall importance. Men may difpute about

identity and diverfity, without any real difference in their

thoughts and opinions, abftradled from names."

Upon the whole, I apprehend that Berkeley has carried this
attempt to reconcile his fyftem to the vulgar opinion farther than
reafon fupports him ; and he was no doubt tempted to do fo, from
a juft apprehenfion that, in a controverfy of this kind, the common
fenfe of mankind is the moft formidable antagonift.

Berkeley has employed much pains and ingenuity to fhow
that his fyftem, if received and believed, would not be attended
with thofe bad confequences in the condud of life which fuperficial
thinkers may be apt to impute to it. His fyftem does not take
away or make any alteration upon our pleafures or our pains : Our
fenfations, whether agreeable or difagreeable, are the fame upon
his fyftem as upon any other. Thefe are real things, and the only
things that intereft us. They are produced in us according to cer-
tain

i68 E S S A Y 11.

CHAP, x.^ tain laws of nature, by which our condudl will be dire<5led in at-
taining the one, and avoiding the other : And it is of no moment
to us, whether they are produced immediately by the operation of
fome powerful intelligent being upon our minds ; or by the me-
diation of fome inanimate being which we call matter.

The evidence of an all-governing mind, fo far from being weak-
ened, ieems to appear even in a more ftriking light upon his hypo-
thefis, than upon the common one. The powers which inanimate
matter is fuppofed to poflefs, have always been the ftrong hold of
Atheifts, to which they had recourfe in defence of their fyftem.
This fortrefs of atheifm muft be moft effecStually overturned, if
there is no fuch thing as matter in the univerfe. In all this the
Bifhop reafons juftly and acutely. But there is one uncomfort-
able confequence of his fyftem, which he feems not to have" attended
to, and from which it will be found difficult, if at all poffible, to
guard it.

The confequence, I mean, is this, that, although it leaves us fuffi-
cient evidence of a fupreme intelligent mind, it feems to take away
all the evidence we have of other intelligent beings like ourfelves.
What I call a father, a brother, or a friend, is only a parcel of
ideas in my own mind ; and being ideas in my mind, they cannot
pofllbly have that relation to another mind which they have to
mine, any more than the pain felt by me can be the individual pain
felt by another. I can find no principle in Berkeley's fyftem,
which affords me even probable ground to conclude, that there are
other intelligent beings, like myfelf, in the relations of father, bro-
ther, friend, or fellow-citizen. I am left alone, as the only crea-
ture of God in the univerfe, in that forlorn ftate of ego'ifm^ into
which it is faid fome of the difciples of Des Cartes were brought
by his philofophy^

Of all the opinions that have ever been advanced by Philofo-
phers, this of Bifhop Berkeley, that there is no material world,

feems

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 169

feems the ftrangeft, and the moft apt to bring philofophy into ri- CHAP. X.

dicule with plain men who are guided by the dictates of nature

and common fenfe. And it will not, I apprehend, be improper

to trace this progeny of the dodlrine of ideas from its origin, and

to obferve its gradual progrefs, till it acquired fuch flrength, that

a pious and learned Bifliop had the boldnefs to ulher it into the

world, as demonftrable from the principles of philofophy univer-

fally received, and as an admirable expedient for the advancement

of knowledge, and for the defence of reUgion.

During the reign of the Peripatetic philofophy, men were little
difpofed to doubt, and much to dogmatize. The exiftence of the
objedls of fenfe was held as a firft principle ; and the received doc-
trine was, that the fenfible fpecies or idea is the very form of the
external objedl, juft feparated from the matter of it, and fent into
the mind that perceives it ; fo that we find no appearance of fcep-
ticifm about the exiftence of matter under that philofophy.

Des Cartes taught men to doubt even of thofe things that
had been taken for firft principles. He rejedled the dodtrine of
fpecies or ideas coming from objedls ; but ftill maintained, that
what we immediately perceive is not the external objecft, but an
idea or image of it in our mind. This led fome of his difciples
into egoifm, and to diftaelieve the exiftence of every creature in
the univerfe but themfelves and their own ideas.

But Des Cartes himfelf, either from dread of the cenfure of
the Church, which he took great care not to provoke, or to ftiun
the ridicule of the world, which might have crufhed his fyftem at
once, as it did that of the Egoifts ; or, perhaps, from inward con-
vidlion, was refolved to fupport the exiftence of matter. To do
this confiftently with his principles, he found himfelf obliged to
have recourfe to arguments that are far-fetched, and not very co-
gent. Sometimes he argues, that our fenfes are given us by God,
who is no deceiver ; and therefore we ought to believe their tefti-

Y mony.

l^o ESSAY II.

CHAP. X.^ mony. But this argument is weak ; becaufe, according to his prin-
ciples, our fenfes teftify no more but that we have certain ideas ;
And if we draw conclufions from this teftimony, which the pre-
mifes will not fupport, we deceive ourfelves. To give more force
to this weak argument, he fometimes adds, that we have by na-
ture a flrong propenfity to believe that there is an external world
correfponding to our ideas.

Malebranche thought, that this ftrong propenfity is not a fuf-
ficient reafon for believing the exiflence of matter ; and that it is
to be received as an article of faith, not certainly difcoverable by
reafon. He is aware that faith comes by hearing ; and that it may
be faid that prophets, apoflles, and miracles, are only ideas in our
minds. But to this he anfwers, That though thefe things are
only ideas, yet faith turns them into realities j and this anfwer, he
hopes, will fatisfy thofe who are not too morofe.

It may perhaps feem flrange, that Locke, who wrote fb much
about ideas, fhould not fee thofe confequences which Berkeley
thought fo obvioufly deducible from that dodlrine. Mr Locke
furely was not willing that the dodlrine of ideas fhould be thought
to be loaded with fuch confequences. He acknowledges, that the
exiflence of a material world is not to be received as a firfl
principle ; nor is it demonflrable ; but he offers the befl arguments
for it he can ; and fupplies the weaknefs of his arguments by this
obfervation, that we have fuch evidence, as is fufficient to diredl us
in purfuing the good, and avoiding the ill we may receive from
external things, beyond which we have no concern.

There is, indeed, a fingle pafTage in Locke's EfTay, which may
lead one to conjedlure, that he had a glimpfe of that fyftem which
Berkeley afterwards advanced, but thought proper to fupprefs
it within his own breafl. The pafTage is in book 4. chap. 10.
where, having proved the exiflence of an eternal intelligent mind,
he comes to anfwer thofe who conceive that matter alfo muft be

eternal;

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 171

eternal ; becaufe we cannot conceive how it could be made out of CHAP. X.

nothing : And having obferved that the creation of minds requires

no lefs power than the creation of matter, he adds what follows :

*' Nay poffibly, if we could emancipate ourfelves from vulgar no-

" tions, and raife our thoughts, as far as they would reach, to a

*' clofer contemplation of things, we might be able to aim at fome

" dim and feeming conception, how matter might at firft be made,

" and begin to exift by the power of that eternal firft Being ; but

" to give beginning and being to a fpirit, would be found a more

" inconceivable efFe(5l of omnipotent power. But this being what

" would perhaps lead us too far from the notions on which the

" philofophy now in the world is built, it would not be pardon-

" able to deviate fo far from them, or to enquire, fo far as gram-

" mar itfclf would authorife, if the common fettled opinion op-

" pofes it ; efpecially in this place, where the received dodlrine

*' ferves well enough to our prefent purpofe."

It appears from this palTage, 7?;^, That Mr Locke had fome
fyftem in his mind, perhaps not fully digefted, to which we might
be led, by raifing our thoughts to a clofer contemplation of things,
and emancipating them from vulgar notions. Secondly ^ That this
fyftem would lead fo far from the notions on which the philofophy
now in the world is built, that he thought proper to keep it within
his own breaft. Thirdly^ That it might be doubted whether this
fyftem differed fo far from the common fettled opinion in reality,
as it feemed to do in words. Fourthly^ By this fyftem, we might
poffibly be enabled to aim at fome dim and feeming conception
how matter might at firft be made and begin to exift ; but it would
give no aid in conceiving how a fpirit might be made. Thefe are
the charadleriftics of that fyftem which Mr Locke had in his
mind, and thought it prudent to fupprefs. May they not lead to
a probable conje<5ture, that it was the fame, or fomething fimilar
to that of Biftiop Berkeley ? According to Berkeley's fyftem,
God's creating the material world at fuch a time, means no more
but that he decreed from that time, to produce ideas in the minds

Y 2 of

172 ESSAY II.

CHAP. X. ^ of finite fpirits, in that order, and according to thofe rules, which
we call the laws of Nature. This, indeed, removes all difficulty,
in conceiving how matter was created ; and Berkeley does not
fail to take notice of the advantage of his fyflem on that account.
But his fyftem gives no aid in conceiving how a fpirit may be
made. It appears therefore, that every particular Mr Locke has
hinted, with regard to that fyftem which he had in his mind, but
thought it prudent to fupprefs, tallies exa(5lly with the fyftem of
Berkeley. If we add to this, that Berkeley's fyftem follows
from Mr Locke's, by very obvious confequence, it feems reafon-
able to conjecflure, from the paflage now quoted, that he was not
■unaware of that confequence, but left it to thofe who fhould come
after him to carry his principles their full length, when they fhould
by time be better eftablifhed, and able to bear the fliock of their
oppofition to vulgar notions. Mr Norris, in his Effay towards the
theory of the ideal or intelligible world, publiflied in 1701, ob-
ferves, that the material world is not an objedl of fenfe ; becaufe
fenfation is within us, and has no objedl. Its exiftence, therefore,
he fays, is a collecflion of reafon, and not a very evident one.

From this detail we may learn, that the do<5lrine of ideas, as it
was new modelled by Des Cartes, looked with an unfriendly
afpe(^ upon the material world ; and although Philofophers were
very unwilling to gi^'^e up either, they found it a very difficult
tafk to reconcile them to each other. In this ftate of things
Berkeley, I think, is reputed the firft who had the daring refo-
lution to give up the material world altogether, as a facrifice to the
received philofophy of ideas.

But we ought not in this hlftorical fltetch to omit an author of
far inferior name, Arthur Collier, Redor of Langford Magna,
near Sarum. He publifhed a book in 1713, which he calls Clavis
TJiiiverfalis ; or, a new Enquiry after Truth ; being a demonftra-
tion of the non-exiftence or impoffibility of an external world.
His arguments are the fame in fubftance with Berkeley's j and

he

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF BISHOP BERKELEY. 173

he appears to underftand the whole ftrength of his caufe : Though CHAP. X.
he is not deficient in metaphyfical acutenefs, his ftile is difagree-
ablc, being full of conceits, of new coined words, fcholaftic terms,
and perplexed fentences. He appears to be well acquainted with
Des Cartes, Malebranche, andNoRRis, as well as with Ari-
stotle and the fchoolmen : But, what is very ftrange, it does not
appear that he had ever heard of Locke's EfTay, which had been
publilhed twenty-four years, or of Berkeley's Principles of
Knowledge, which had been publilhed three years.

He fays, he had been ten years firmly convinced of the non-
exiftence of an external world, before he ventured to publifh his
book. He is far from thinking as Berkeley does, that the vulgar
are of his opinion. If his book fhould make any converts to his
fyftem, (of which he exprefTes little hope, though he has fupported
it by nine demonftrations,) he takes pains to fhow that his difciples,
notwithflanding their opinion, may, with the unenlightened, fpeak
of material things in the common ftile. He himfelf had fcruples
of confcience about this for fome time ; and if he had not got over
them, he muft have fhut his lips for ever : But he confidered, that
God himfelf has ufed this ftile in fpeaking to men in the holy
fcripture, and has thereby fandtified it to all the faithful ; and that
to the pure all things are pure. He thinks his opinion may be of
great ufe, efpecially in religion ; and applies it in particular, to put
an end to the controverfy about Chrift's prefence in the facrament.

I have taken the liberty to give this fhort account of Collier's
book, becaufe I believe it is rare, and little known. I have only
feen one copy of it, which is in the Univerfity library of Glafgow.

CHAP.

E S S A Y II.

C H A P. XI.

Bijhop Berkeley's Sentiments of the Nature of Ideas.

I Pass over the fentiments of Biihop Berkeley, with refpe(5l
to abftract ideas, and with refped: to fpace and time, as things
which may more properly be confidered in another place. But I
muft take notice of one part of his fyflem, wherein he feems to
have deviated from the common opinion about ideas.

Though he fets out in his principles of knowledge by telling us,
that it is evident the objedls of human knowledge are ideas, and
builds his whole fyflem upon this principle ; yet, in the progrefs of
it, he finds that there are certain obje(5ts of human knowledge that
are not ideas, but things which have a permanent exiftence. The
obje(5ts of knowledge, of which we have- no ideas, are our own
minds, and their various operations, other finite minds, and the
Supreme Mind. The reafbn why there can be no ideas of fpirits
and their operations, the author informs us is this. That ideas are
paffive, inert, unthinking beings ; they cannot therefore be the
image or likenefs of things that have thought, and will, and adlive
power ; we have notions of minds, and of their operations, but not
ideas : We know what we mean by thinking, willing, and percei-
ving; we can reafon about beings endowed with thofe powers, but
we have no ideas of them. A fpirit or mind is the only fubftance
or fupport wherein the unthinking beings or ideas can exifl: ; but
that this fubftance which fupports or perceives ideas, fliould itfelf
be an idea, or like an idea, is evidently abfurd.

He obferves farther, Princip. fed. 142, that " all relations, in-
*' eluding an adt of the mind, we cannot properly be fald to
" have an idea, but rather a notion of the relations or habitudes
'* between things. But if, in the modern way, the word idea is

" extended

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS OF IDEAS. 175

" extended to fpirits, and relations, and acls, this is, after all, an CHAP. XI.
" affair of verbal concern ; yet it conduces to clearnefs and proprie-
" ty, that we diftinguilh things very different by different names."

This is an important part of Berkeley's fyflem, and deferves
attention. We are led by it to divide the objefts of human know-
ledge into two kinds : The firfl is ideas, which v/e have by our five
fenfes ; they have no exigence when they are not perceived, and
exift only in the minds of thofe who perceive them. The fecond
kind of objedls comprehends fpirits, their acts, and the relations
and habitudes of things. Of thefe we have notions, but no ideas.
No idea can reprefent them, or have any fimilitude to them : Yet
we underfland what they mean, and we can fpeak with under-
ftanding, and reafon about them without ideas.

This account of ideas is very different from that which Locke
has given. In his fyftem, we have no knowledge where we have
no ideas. Every thought mufl have an idea for its immediate ob-
jedl. In Berkeley's, the mofl: important objedls are known
without ideas. In Locke's fyflem, there are two fources of our
ideas, fenfation and refle(5lion. In Berkeley's, fenfation is the
only fource, becaufe of the objeifls of refledlion there can be no
ideas. We know them without ideas. Locke divides our ideas
into thofe of fubftances, modes, and relations. In Berkeley's
fyftem, there are no ideas of fubftances, or of relations ; but no-
tions only. And even in the clafs of modes, the operations of
our own minds are things of which we have diftindl notions j
but no ideas.

We ought to do the juftice to Malebranciie to acknowledge,
that in this point, as well as in many others, his fyftem comes
nearer to Berkeley's than the latter feems willing to own. That
author tells us, that there are four different ways in which we
come to the knowledge of things. To know things by their ideas,.
is only one of the four. He afHrms, that we have no idea of our

own

176' E S S A Y II.

CHA?. XI. own mind, or any of its modifications : That we know thefe
things by confcioufnefs, without ideas. Whether thefe two acute
Philofophers forefaw the confequences that may be drawn from
the fyftem of ideas, taken in its full extent, and which were af-
terwards drawn by Mr Hume, I cannot pretend to fay. If they
did, their regard to religion was too great to permit them to ad-
mit thofe confequences, or the principles with which they were
neceffarily conned:ed.

However this may be, if there be fo many things that may be
apprehended and known without ideas, this very naturally fug-
gefts a fcruple with regard to thofe that are left : For it may be
faid, If we can apprehend and reafon about the world of fpirits,
without ideas. Is it not poflible that we may apprehend and rea-
fon about a material world, without ideas ? If confcioufnefs and
refledlion furnifli us with notions of fpirits, and of their attri-
butes, without ideas, May not our fenfes furnifti us with notions
of bodies and their attributes, without ideas ?

Berkeley forefaw this objedlion to his fyflem, and puts it in
the mouth of Hylas, in the following words : Dial. 3. Hylas.
** If you can conceive the mind of God, without having an idea
** of it, Why may not I be allowed to conceive the exiftence of
" matter, notvvithftanding that I have no idea of it ?" The an-
fwer of Philonous is, " You neither perceive matter objedlively,
" as you do an inacftive being or idea, nor know it, as you do
" yourfelf, by a reflex adl, neither do you immediatly apprehend
*' it by fimilitude of the one or the other, nor yet coUedl it by
" reafoning from that which you know immediately. All which
" makes the cafe of matter widely different from that of the
« Deity."

Though Hylas declares himfelf fatisfied with this anfwer, I
confefs I am not : Becaufe, if I may trufl the faculties that God
has given me, I do perceive matter obje<5lively, that is, fomething

which

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS OF IDEAS. 177

which is extended and folid, which may be meafured and CHAP. XI.

weighed, is the immediate objedl of my touch and fight. And

this obje6l I take to be matter, and not an idea. And though I

have been taught by Philofophers, that what I immediately touch

is, an idea, and not matter ; yet I have never been able to difcover

this by the moft accurate attention to my own perceptions.

It were to be wifhed, that this ingenious author had explained
what he means by ideas, as diftinguifhed from notions. The
word notion, being a word in common language, is well under-
ftood. All men mean by it, the conception, the apprehenfion,
or thought which we have of any objedt of thought. A notion,
therefore, is an adl of the mind conceiving or thinking of fome
obje<Sl. The objetfl of thought maybe either fomething that is
in the mind, or fomething that is not in the mind. It may be
fomething that has no exiftence, or fomething that did, or does,
or fhall exift. But the notion which I have of that objedl, is an
a6l of my mind which really exifts while I think of the obje<3: ;
but has no exiftence when I do not think of it. The word idea,
in. popular language, has precifely the fame meaning as the word
notion. But Philofophers have another meaning to the word idea;
and what that meaning is, I think, is very difficult to fay.

The whole of Bifhop Berkeley's fyftem depends upon the di-
ftindlion between notions and ideas ; and therefore it is worth
while to find, if we are able, what thofe things are which he
calls ideas, as diftinguifhed from notions.

For this purpofe, we may obferve, that he takes notice of tw©
.kinds of ideas, the ideas of fenfe, and the ideas of imagination.
" The ideas imprinted on the fenfes by the Author of Nature, he
" fays, are called real things ; and thofe excited in the imagina-
" tion, being lefs regular, vivid and conftant, are more properly
" termed ideas, or images of things, which they copy and repre-
" fent. But then our fenfations, be they nev^r fo vivid and di-

Z , " ftinft

178 ESSAY IT.

CHAP. XI. « ftin(^, are neverthelefs ideas ; that is, they exift in the mind, or
" are perceived by it as truly as the ideas of its own framing. The
" ideas of fenfe are allowed to have more reality in them ; that is,
" to be more flrong, orderly, and coherent, than the creatures of
*' the mind. They are alfo lefs dependent on the fpirit, or think-
** ing fubftance which perceives them, in that they are excited by
" the will of another and more powerful fpirit j yet ftill they are
" ideas ; and certainly no idea, whether faint or flrong, can exifl,
" otherwife than in a mind perceiving it." Princip. fed. 33.

From this paffage we fee, that, by the ideas of fenfe, the au-
thor means fenfations : And this indeed is evident from many other
pafTages, of which I flaall mention a few, Princip. fedl 5. " Light and
" colours, heat and cold, extenfion and figure, in a word, the
" things we fee and feel, what are they but fo many fenfations,
" notions, ideas, or impreflions on the fenfe ; and is it poffible to
" feparate, even in thought, any of thefe from perception ? For
" my part, I might as eafily divide a thing frpm itfelf." Sedl. 18.
" As for our fenfes, by them we have the knowledge only of our
" fenfations, ideas, or thofe things that are immediately perceived
" by fenfe ; call them what you will : But they do not inform us
" that things exift without the mind, or unperceived, like to thofe
" which are perceived." Secfl. 25. " All our ideas, fenfations, or the
" things which we perceive, by whatever names they may be di-
" ftinguiihed, are vifibly ina€live ; there is nothing of power or
*' agency included in them."

This therefore appears certain, that, by the ideas of fenfe, the
author meant the fenfations we have by means of our fenfes.
I have endeavoured to explain the meaning of the word fenfat'ion^
Eflay I. chap. i. and refer to the explication there given of it,
which appears to me to be perfe(5lly agreeable to the fenfe in which
Bilhop Berkeley ufes it.

As there can be no notion or thought but in a thinking being ;

fo

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS OF IDEAS. 179

fo there can be no fenfation but in a fentient being. It is the adV, CHAP, xi,
or feeling of a fentient being ; its very efTence confifls in its being
felt. Nothing can refemble a fenfation, but a fimilar fenfation in
the fame, or in fome other mind. To think that any quality in
a thing that is inanimate can refemble a fenfation, is a great
abfurdity. In all this, I cannot but agree perfedlly with Bifhop
Berkeley ; and I think his notions of fenfation much more di-
ftincl and accurate than Locke's, who thought that the primary
qualities of body are refemblances of our fenfations, but that the
fecondary are not.

That we have many fenfations by means of our external fenfes,.
there can be no doubt ; and if he is pleafed to call thofe, ideas,
there ought to be no difpute about the meaning of a word. But,
fays Bilhop Berkeley, by our fenfes, we have the knowledge only
of our fenfations or ideas, call them which you will. I allow him
to call them which he will ; but I would have the word oiily in this
fentence to be well weighed, becaufe a great deal depends upon it.

For if it be true, that, by our fenfes, we have the knowledge of
our fenfations only, then his fyftem muft be admitted, and the
exiftence of a material world muft be given up as a dream. No
demonftration can be more invincible than this. If we have any
knowledge of a material world, it muft be by the fenfes : But, by
the fenfes, we have no knowledge but of our fenfations only ; and
our fenfations have no refemblance of any thing that can be in a
material world. The only propofition in this demonftration which
admits of doubt is, that, by our fenfes, we have the knowledge
of our fenfations only, and of nothing elfe. If there are objeds
of the fenfes which are not fenfations, his arguments do not touch
them ; they may be things which do not exift in the mind, as all
fenfations do ; they may be things, of which, by our fenfes, we
have notions, though no ideas ; juft as, by confcioufnefs and re-
fledlion, we have notions of fpirits, and of their operations, with-
out ideas or fenfations.

Z 2 Shall

i8o E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XI. Shall we fay then, that, by our fenfes, we have the knowledge
of our fenfations only ; and that they give us no notion of any
thing but of our fenfations ? Perhaps this has been the doctrine of
Philofophers, and not of Bilhop Berkeley alone, otherwife he
would have fupported it by arguments. Mr Locke calls all the
notions we have by our fenfes ideas of fenfation ; and in this has
been very generally followed. Hence it feems a very natural in-
ference, that ideas of fenfation are fenfations. But Philofophers
may err : Let us hear the di(^ates of common fenfe upon this
point.

Suppofe I am pricked with a pin, I a£k. Is the pain I feel, a fen-
fation ? undoubtedly it is. There can be nothing that refembles
pain in any inanimate being. But I afk again, Is the pin a fenfa-
tion ? To this queflion I find myfelf under a neceihty of anfwer-
ing. That the pin is not a fenfation, nor can have the lead refem-
blance to any fenfation. The pin has length and thicknefs, and fi-
gure and weight. A fenfation can have none of thofe qualities. I
am not more certain that the pain I feel is a fenfation, than that
the pin is not a fenfation ; yet the pin is an objedl of fenfe ; and I
am as certain that I perceive its figure and loardneli by ray fenfes,
as that I feel pain when pricked by it.

Having faid fo much of the ideas of fenfe in Berkele y's fyllem,.
we are next to confider the account he gives of the ideas of ima-
gination. Of thefe he fays, Princip. fed. 28. " I find I can ex-
" cite ideas in my mind at pleafure, and vary and ihift the fcene as
" oft as I think fit. It is no more than willing ; and ftraightway
" this or that idea arlfes in my fancy ; and by the fame power it
*' is obliterated, and makes way for another. This making and

unmaking of ideas, doth very properly denominate the mind
" a(flive. This much is certain, and grounded on experience.
" Our fenfations, he fays, are called real things ; the ideas of ima-
" gination are more properly termed ideas, or images of things ;"
that is, as I apprehend, they are the images of our fenfations. It

might

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS OF IDEAS. i8i

might furely be expeded, that we fliould be well acquainted with CHAP. XI.
the ideas of imagination, as they are of our making ; yet, after
all the Bifhop has faid about them, I am at a lofs to know what
they are.

I would obferve, in x\\tjirft place, with regard to thefe ideas of
imagination, that they are not fenfations ; for furely fenfation is
the work of the fenfes, and not of imagination ; and though pain
be a fenfation, the thought of pain, when I am not pained,, is no
fenfation.

I obferve, in x\\tfecond place, that I can find no diftindlion be-
tween ideas of imagination and notions, which the author fays
are not ideas. I can eafily diftinguifli between a notion and a fen-
fation. It is one thing to fay I have the fenfation of pain. It is
another thing to fay I have a notion of pain. The laft expreflion
fignifies no more than that I underftand what is meant by the
word pain. The firft fignifies that I really feel pain. But I can
find no diftindlion between the notion of pain, and the imagina-
tion of it, or indeed between the notion of any thing elfe, and the
imagination of it. I can therefore give no account of the diftinc-
tion which Berkeley makes between ideas of imagination and
notions, which he fays are not ideas. They feem to me perfedlly
to coincide.

He feems indeed to fay, that the ideas of imagination differ not
in kind from thofe of the fenfes, but only in the degree of their
regularity, vivacity, and conftancy. " They are, fays he, lefs re-
" gular, vivid, and conflant." This do(5lrine was afterwards
greedily embraced by Mr Hume, and makes a main pillar of his
fyflem ; but it cannot be reconciled to common fenfe, to which
Bifliop Berkeley profefles a great regard. For, according to this
do(5lrine, if we compare the ftate of a man racked with the gout,
with his ftate, when being at perfedl eafe, he relates what he has
fiifFered ; the difference of thefe two Itates is only this, that, in

the

i82 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XI. tiie laft^ the pain is lefs regular, vivid, and conftant, than in the
firft. We cannot pofllbly affent to this. Every man knov^s that
he can relate the pain he fuffered, not only without pain, but with
pleafure ; and that to luffer pain, and to think of it, are things
which totally differ in kind, and not in degree only.

We fee, therefore, vipon the whole, that according to this fyftem,
of the moft important obje(Sls of knowledge, that is, of fpirits, of
their operations, and of the relations of things, we have no ideas
at all ; we have notions of them, but not ideas : The ideas we have
are thofe of fenfe, and thofe of imagination. The firft are the fen-
fations we have by means of our fenfes, whofe exiftence no man
can deny, becaufe he is confcious of them ; and whofe nature hath
been explained by this author with great accuracy. As to the
ideas of imagination, he hath left us much in the dark : He makes
them images of our fenfations, though, according to his own doc-
trine, nothing can refemble a fenfation but a fenfation. He feems
to think, that they differ from fenfations only in the degree of
their regularity, vivacity, and conftancy ; But this cannot be re-
conciled to the experience of mankind ; and befides this mark,
which cannot be admitted, he hath given us no other mark by
which they may be diftinguiflied from notions : Nay, it may be
obferved, that the very reafon he gives why we can have no ideas
of the a(5ts of the mind about its ideas, nor of the relations of things,
is applicable to what he calls ideas of imagination. Princip. fe<S.
142. " We may not, I think, ftridlly be faid to have an idea of an
" aclive being, or of an adion, although we may be faid to have
*' a notion of them. I have fome knowledge or notion of my
" mind, and its ads about ideas, in as much as I know or under-
" ftand what is meant by thefe words. It is alfo to be remarked,
" that all relations including an adl of the mind, we cannot fo
" properly be faid to have an idea, but rather a notion of the rela-
" tions and habitudes between things." From this it follows,
that our imaginations are not properly ideas but notions, becaufe
they inclu<i? an adl of the mind. For he tells us, in a paffage al-
^ ready

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS O.F IDEAS. 183

ready quoted, that they are creatures of the mind, of its own CHAP, xr.
framing, and that it makes and unmakes them as it thinks fit, and
from this is properly denominated a(5live. If it be a good reafon
why we have not ideas, but notions only of relations, becaufe
they include an a<5l of the mind ; the fame reafon mufl lead us to.
conclude, that our imaginations are notions and not ideas, fince
they are made and unmade by the mind as it thinks fit, and from
this it is properly denominated adlive.

When fo much has been written, and fo many difputes raifed,
about ideas, it were defirable that we knew what they are, and to
what category or clafs of beings they belong. In this we might
expedl fatisfadlion in the writings of Billiop Berkeley, if any
where, confidering his known accuracy and precifion in the ufe of
words ; and it is for this reafon that I have taken fo much pains
to find out what he took them to be.

After all, if I underftand what he calls the ideas of fenfe, they
are the fenfations which we have by means of our five ferifes ;
but they are, he fays, lefs properly termed ideas.

I underftand likewife what he calls notions, but they, lays he,
are very different from ideas, though, in the modern way, often
called by that name.

The ideas of imagination remain, which are moft properly term-
ed ideas, as he fays ; and, with regard to thefe, I am ftill very
much in the dark. When I imagine a lion or an elephant, the
lion or elephant is the objetfl imagined. The acfV of the mind, in
conceiving that objecfl, is the notion, the conception, or imagina-
tion of the objedl. If befides the obje6l, and the a(5l of the mind
about it, there be fomething called the idea of the obje(5l, I know
not wliat it is.

If we confult other authors who have treated of ideas, we fhall

find

i84 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XI. £n(j as little fatlsfadllon with regard to the meaning of this philo-
fophical term. The vulgar have adopted it ; but they only mean
by it the notion or conception we have of any objed, efpecially
our more abflradl or general notions. When it is thus put to fig-
nify the operation of the mind about objedls, whether in con-
ceiving, remembering, or perceiving, it is well underftood. But
Philofophers will have ideas to be the objedls of the mind's opera-
tions, and not the operations themfelves. There is, indeed, great
variety of objeds of thought. We can think of minds, and of
their operations, of bodies, and of their qualities and relations. If
ideas are not comprehended under any of thefe clafles, I am at a
lofs to comprehend what they are.

In ancient philofophy, ideas were faid to be immaterial forms,
which, according to one fyftem, exifted from all eternity, and, ac-
cording to another, are fent forth from the objeds, whofe form
they are. In modern philofophy, they are things in the mind,
which are the immediate objeds of all our thoughts, and which
have no exiflence when we do not think of them. They are called
the images, the refemblances, the reprefentatives of external ob-
jeds of fenfe ; yet they have neither colour, nor fmell, nor figure,
nor motion, nor any fenfible quality. I revere the authority of
Philofophers, efpecially where they are fo unanimous ; but until I
can comprehend what they mean by ideas, I muft think and fpeak
with the vulgar.

In fenfation, properly fb called, I can diftinguifh two things,
the mind or fentient being, and the fenfation. Whether the lafl is
to be called a feeling or an operation, I difpute not ; but it has no
objed diftind from the fenfation itfelf. If in fenfation there be a
third thing, called an idea, I know not what it is.

In perception, in remembrance, and in conception, or imagina-
tion, I diftinguilh three things, the mind that operates, the ope-
ration of the mind, and the objed of that operation. That the

objed

BISHOP BERKELEY'S SENTIMENTS OF IDEAS. 185

objedl perceived is one thing, and the perception of that objedl an- CHAP. XL
other, I am as certain as I can be of any thing. The fame may-
be faid of conception, of remembrance, of love and hatred, of
defire and averiion. In all thefe, the adl of the mind about its ob-
jedl is one thing, the objedl is another thing. There muft be an
objedt, real or imaginary, diftindl from the operation of the mind
about it. Now, if in thefe operations the idea be a fourth thing
different from the three I have mentioned, I know not what it is,
nor have been able to learn from all that has been written about
ideas. And if the dodtrine of Philofophers about ideas confounds
any two of thefe things which I have mentioned as diftindl ; if,
for example, it confounds the objedl perceived with the perception
of that obje6l, and reprefents them as one and the fame thing,
fuch dodlrine is altogether repugnant to all that I am able to difco-
ver of the operations of my own mind ; and it is repugnant to
the common fenfe of mankind, exprcfled in the ftru<Sure of all
languages.

CHAP. XII.
Of the Sentiments of Mr Hume.

TWO volumes of the Treatife of human nature were publifhed
in 1739, and the third in 1740. The dodtrine contained in
this Treatife was publifhed anew in a more popular form in Mr
Hume's philofophical EfTays, of which there have been various
Editions. What other authors, from the time of Des Cartes,
had called ideas^ this author diflinguiflies into two kinds, to wit,
imprejjions and ideas; comprehending under the firft, all our fen-
fations, paffions, and emotions ; and under the laft, the faint
images of thefe, when we remember or imagine them.

He fets out with this, as a principle that needed no proof, and

A a of

i86 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XII. of which therefore he offers none. That all the perceptions of the
'^ human mind refolve themfclves into thefe two kinds, imprejfwm

and tdeas.

As this propofition is the foundation upon which the whole of
Mr Hume's fyftem refts, and from which it is raifed with great
acutenefs indeed, and ingenuity, it were to be wifhed that he had
told us upon what authority this fundamental propofition refls.
But we are left to guefs, whether it is held forth as a firft principle,
which has its evidence in itfelf ; or whether it is to be received
upon the authority of Philofophers.

Mr Locke had taught us, that all the immediate objcds of hu-
man knowledge are ideas in the mind. Bifliop Berkeley, pro-
ceeding upon this foundation, demonflrated very eafily, that there
is no material world. And he thought, that, for the purpofes both
of philofophy and religion, we fliould find no lofs, but great be-
nefit, in the want of it. But the Bifhop, as became his order,
was unwilling to give up the world of fpirits. He faw very well,
that ideas are as unfit to reprefent fpirits as they are to reprefent
bodies. Perhaps he faw, that if we perceive only the ideas of fpi-
rits, we fhall find the fame difficulty in inferring their real exift-
ence from the exiftence of their ideas, as we find in inferring the
exiftence of matter from the idea of it ; and therefore, while he
gives up the material world in favour of the fyftem of ideas, he
gives up one half of that fyftem in favour of the world of fpirits ;
and maintains, that we can, without ideas, think, and fpeak, and
reafon, intelligibly about fpirits, and what belongs to them.

Mr Home fliows no fuch partiality in favour of the world of
fpirits. He adopts the theory of ideas in its full extent ; and, in
confequence, fliews that there is neither matter nor mind in the
unlverfe ; nothing but impreffions and ideas. What we call a bo-
dy^ is only a bundle of fenfations j and what we call the w/W, is
: • only

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr HUME. 187

only a bundle of thoughts, paflions, and emotions, without any CHap.xii.
fubjedl.

Some ages hence, it will perhaps be looked upon as a curious
anecdote, that two Philofophers of the 18 th century, of very di-
ftinguifhed rank, were led by a philofophical hypothefis ; one, to
difbelieve the exiftence of matter ; and the other, to difbelieve the
exiftence both of matter and of mind. Such an anecdote may
not be uninflrudlive, if it prove a warning to Philofophers to be-
ware of hypotheles, efpecially when they lead to conclufions which
contradidl the principles, upon which all men of common fenfc
muft adl in common life.

The Egoifts, whom we mentioned before, were left far behind
by Mr Hume ; for they believed their own exiftence, and perhaps
alfo the exiftence of a Deity. But Mr Hume's fyftem does not
even leave him ^felf to claim the property pf his impref&ons and
ideas.

A fyftem of confequences, however abfurd, acutely and juftly
drawn from a few principles, in very abftracft matters, is of real
utility in fcience, and may be made fubfervient to real knowledge.
This merit Mr Hume's metaphyfical writings have in a great de-
gree.

We had occafion before to obferve, that, fince the time of Des
Cartes, Philofophers, in treating of the powers of the mind, have
in many inftances confounded things, which the common fenfe of
mankind has always led them to diftinguilh, and which have dif-
ferent names in all languages. Thus, in the perception of an ex-
ternal object, all languages diftinguifli three things, the mind that
perceives, the operation of that mind, which is called perception^
and the objeB perceived. Nothing appears more evident to a mind
untutored by philofophy, than that thefe three are diftind: things,
which, though related, ought never to be confounded. The ftruc-

A a 2 turc

i88 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XII. ture of all languages fuppofes this diflincftxon, and is built upon it.
Philofophers have introduced a fourth thing in this procefs, which
they call the idea of the objecft, which is fuppofed to be an image,
or reprefentative of the objedl, and is faid to be the immediate
obje6l. The vulgar know nothing about this idea ; it is a creature
of philofophy, introduced to account for, and explain the manner
of our perceiving external objects.

It is pleafant to obferve, that while Philofophers, for more than
a century, have been labouring, by means of ideas, to explain
perception, and the other operations of the mind, thofe ideas have
by degrees ufurped the place of perception, objedt, and even of
the mind itfelf, and have fupplanted thofe very things they were
brought to explain. Des Cartes reduced all the operations of
the underftanding to perception ; and what can be more natural
to thofe who believe that they are only different modes of per-
ceiving ideas in our own minds. Locke confounds ideas fome-
times with the perception of an external obje<fl, fometimes with
the external object itfelf. In Berkeley's fyftem the idea is the
only object, and yet is often confounded with the perception of
it. But in Hume's, the idea or the impreflion, which is only a
more lively idea, is mind, perception, and objedl, all in one : So
that, by the term perception in Mr Hume's fyftem, we muft un-
derftand the mind itfelf, all its operations, both of underftanding
and will, and all the objedls of thefe operations. Perception ta-
ken in this fenfe he divides into our more lively perceptions, which
he calls imprejftons^ and the lefs lively, which he calls ideas. To
prevent repetition, I muft here refer the reader to fome remarks
made upon this divifion, EfTay i. chap. i. in the explication there
given of the words perceive, objeSl, imprejfton.

Philofophers have differed very much with regard to the origin
of our ideas, or the fources whence they are derived. The Peri-
patetics held, that all knowledge is derived originally from the
fenfes ; and this ancient do(51rine feems to be revived by fome late

French

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF Mr HUME. 189

French Philofophers, and by Dr Hartley and Dr Priestly CHAP, xil.
among the Britifh. Des Cartes maintained, that many of our
ideas are innate. Locke oppofed the dodrine of innate ideas
with much zeal, and employs the whole firfl book of his Eflay
againft it. But he admits two different fources of ideas ; the ope-
rations of our external fenfes, which he calls y^«/2?/iow, by which
we get all our ideas of body, and its attributes ; and reJle£tion
upon the operations of our minds, by which we get the ideas of
every thing belonging to the mind. The main deiign of the fe-
cond book of Locke's Eflay, is to fhow, that all our fimple ideas,
without exception, are derived from the one or the other, or both
of thefe fources. In doing this, the author is led into fome para-
doxes, although, in general, he is not fond of paradoxes : And
had he forefeen all the confequences that may be drawn from his
account of the origin of our ideas, he would probably have exa-
mined it more carefully.

r

Mr Hume adopts Locke's account of the origin of our ideas,
and from that principle infers, that we have no idea of fubftance
corporeal or fpiritual, no idea of power, no other idea of a caufe,
but that it is fomething antecedent, and conftantly conjoined to
that which we call its efFedl ; and, in a word, that we can have no
idea of any thing but our fenfations, and the operations of mind
we are confcious of.

This author leaves no power to the mind in framing its ideas
and imprefllons ; and no wonder, fince he holds that we have no
idea of power ; and the mind is nothing but that fuccelllon of im-
preflions and ideas of which we are intimately confcious.

He thinks, therefore, that our impreflions arife from unknown
caufes, and that the impreflions are the caufes of their correfpond-
ing ideas. By this he means no more but that they always go be-
fore the ideas ; for this is all that is neceflary to conftitute the re-
lation of caufe and effedl.

As

I go

ESSAY 11.

-J

CHAP. xiT. As to the order and fucceffion of our ideas, he holds it to be
determined by three laws of attradion or afTociation, which he
takes to be original properties of the ideas, by which they attradl,
as it were, or aflbciate themfelves with other ideas which either
referable them, or which have been contiguous to them in time
and place, or to which they have the relations of caufe and efFed.

We may here obferve by the way, that the laft of thefe three
laws feems to be included in the fecond, fince caufation, according
to him, implies no more than contiguity in time and place.

It is not my defign at prefent to fhow how Mr Hume, upon the
principles he has borrowed from Locke and Berkeley, has with
great acutenefs, reared a fyftem of abfolute fcepticifm, which leaves
no rational ground to believe any one propofition, rather than its
contrary : My intention in this place being only to give a detail
of the fentiments of Philofophers concerning ideas fince they be-
came an objedl of fpeculation, and concerning the manner of our
perceiving external objedts by their means.

CHAP. XIII.
Of the Sentiments of Antony Arnauld.

IN this fketch of the opinions of Philofophers concerning ideas,
we muft not omit Antony Arnauld, dodtor of the Sorbonne,
who, in the year 1683, publifhed his book of True and Falfe Ideas,
in oppofition to the fyftem of Malebranche before mentioned.
It is only about ten years fince I could find this book, and I believe
it is rare.

Though ARNAtTLD wrotc before Locke, Berkeley, and Hume,
I have referved to the lad place fome account of his fentiments,

becaufe

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF ANTONY ARNAULD. 191

becaufe it feems difficult to determine whether he adopted the CHAP. Xiii.
common theory of ideas, or whether he is lingular in rejeding it
altogether as a fidlion of Philofophers.

The controverfy between Malebranche and Arnauld necef-
farily led them to confider what kind of things ideas are, a point
upon which other Philofophers had very generally been filent.
Both of them profefTed the dodlrine univerfally received, that we
perceive not material things immediately, that it is their ideas that
are the immediate obje<fls of our thought, and that it is in the idea
of every thing that we perceive its properties.

It is neceflary to premife, that both thefe authors ufe the word
perception^ as Des Cartes had done before them, to fignify every
operation of the underftanding. " To think, to know, to per-
" ceive, are the fame thing," fays Mr Arnauld, chap. 5. def. 2.
It is likewife to be obferved, that the various operations of the
^nd arc by both called modifications of the mind. Perhaps
they were led into this phrafe by the Cartefian dodtrine, that the
elTence of the mind confifls in thinking, as that of body confifts
in extenfion. I apprehend, therefore, that when they make fenfa-
tion, perception, memory, and imagination, to be various modi-
fications of the mind, they mean no more, but that thefe are
things which can only exift in the mind as their fubje(5l. We ex-
prefs the fame thing, by calling them various modes of thinking,
or various operations of the mind.

The things which the mind perceives, fays Malebranche,
are of two kinds. They are either in the mind itfelf, or they are
external to it. The things in the mind, are all its different mo-
difications, its fenfations, its imaginations, its pure intelledlions,
its pafTions and afFe<5lions. Thefe are immediately perceived ; we
are confcions of them, and have no need of ideas to reprefent
them to us.

Tilings

192

ESSAY 11.

CHAP.XIII- Things external to the mind, are either corporeal or fpiritual.
With regard to the laft, he thinks it poflible, that, in another ftate,
fpirits may be an immediate obje<5l of our underftandings, and fo
be perceived without ideas ; that there may be fuch an union of
fpirits as that they may immediately perceive each other, and
communicate their thoughts mutually, without figns, and with-
out ideas.

But leaving this as a problematical point, he holds it to be un-
deniable, that material things cannot be perceived immediately,
but only by the mediation of ideas. He thought it likewife un-
deniable, that the idea muft be immediately prefent to the mind,
that it muft touch the foul as it were, and modify its perception
of the objedl.

From thefe principles we muft neceflarily conclude, either that
the idea is fome modification of the human mind, or that it
muft be an idea in the Divine Mind, which is always inti-
mately prefent with our minds. The matter being brought to
this alternative, Malebranche confiders firft all the pofTible
ways fuch a modification may be produced in our mind as
that we call an idea of a material objedl, taking it for granted
always, that it muft be an objedt perceived, and fomething
different from the acft of the mind in perceiving it. He fiinds
infuperable objedtions againft every hypothefis of fuch ideas be-
ing produced in our minds, and therefore concludes, that
the immediate objeds of perception are the ideas of the Divine
Mind.

Againft this fyftcm Arnauld wrote his book of True and Falfe
Ideas. He does not objedl to the alternative mentioned by Male-
branche ; but he maintains, that ideas are modifications of our
minds. And finding no other modification of the human mind
which can be called the idea of an external objedl, he fays it is
only another word for perception. Chap. 5. def. 3. " I take the

" idea

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF ANTONY ARNAULD. 193

" idea of an objedt, and the perception of an objed, to be the CHAP^Xlll

** fame thing. I do not fay whether there may be other things

" to which the name of idea may be given. But it is certain

** that there are ideas taken in this fenfe, and that thefe ideas

*' are either attributes or modifications of our minds."

This, I think indeed, was to attack the fyftem of Malebranche
upon its weak fide, and where, at the fame time, an attack was
leafl expelled. Philofophers had been fo unanimous in maintain-
ing that we do not perceive external objeds immediately, but by
certain reprefentative images of them called ideas, that Male-
branche might well think his fyftem fecure upon that quarter,
and that the only queftion to be determined was. In what fubjedl
thofe ideas are placed, whether in the human or in the divine
mind ?

But, fays Mr Arnauld, thofe ideas are mere chimeras, fi6lions
of Philofophers ; there are no fuch beings in nature ; and there-
fore it is to no purpofe to enquire whether they are in the divine
or in the human mind. The only true and real id^as are our per-
ceptions, which are acknowledged by all Philofophers, and by
Malebranche himfelf, to be adts or modifications of our own
miinds. He does not fay that the fi(5litious ideas were a fidlion of
Malebranche. He acknowledges that they had been very ge-
nerally maintauied by the fcholaftic Philofophers, and points out,
very judicioufly, the prejudices that had led them into the belief
of fuch ideas.

Of all the powers of our mind, the external fenfes are thought
to be the beft underftood, and their obje<51s are the moft familiar.
Hence we meafure other powers by them, and transfer to other
powers the language which properly belongs to them. The ob-
jedls of fenfe muft be prelent to the fenfe, or within its fphere,
in order to their being perceived. Hence, by analogy, we are
led to fay of every thing when we think of it, that it is prefent

Bb to

194 ESSAY II.

CHAPXIII. to the mind, or in the mind. But this prefence is metaphorical,
or analogical only ; and Arnauld calls it ohjedlive prefence, to
diftinguifh it from that local prefence which is required in ob-
jexfts that are perceived by fenfe. But both being called by the
fame name, they are confounded together, and thofe things that
belong only to real or local prefence, are attributed to the meta-
phorical.

We are likewife accuftomed to fee objedls by their images in a
mirror, or in water ; and hence are led, by analogy, to think that
obje<5ls may be prefented to the memory or imagination, in fome
fimilar manner, by images, which Philofophers have called ideas.

By fuch prejudices and analogies, Arnauld conceives, men
have been led to believe, that the objedls of memory and imagi-
nation muft be prefented to the mind by images or ideas i and the
Philofophers have been more carried awaybythefe prejudices than
even the vulgar, becaufe the ufe made of this theory was to ex-
plain and account for the various operations of the mind, a mat-
ter in which th^ vulgar take no concern.

He thinks, however, that Des Cartes had got the better of
thefe prejudices, and that he ufes the word idea as fignifying the
fame thing with perception, and is therefore furprifed that a dif-
ciple of Des Cartes, and one who was fo great an admirer of
him as Malebranche was, fhould be carried away by them.
It is ftrange, indeed, that the two moft eminent difciples of Des'
Cartes, and his cotemporaries, Ihould dif&r fo eflentially with
regard to his dodlrine concerning ideas.

I fliall not attempt to give the reader an account of the conti-
nuation of this controverfy between thofe two acute Philofophers,
in the fubfequent defences and replies ; becaufe I have not accefs
to fee them. After much reafoning, and fome animofity, each
continued in his own opinion, and left his antagonift where he

found

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF ANTONY ARNAULD. 195

found him. Malebranche's opinion of our feeing all things CU^.XUI.
in God, foon died away of itfelf ; and Arnauld's notion of ideas
feems to have been lefs regarded than it deferved, by the Philofo-
phers that came after him ; perhaps for this reafon, among others,
that it feemed to be in fome fort given up by himfelf, in his at-
tempting to reconcile it to the common dodlrine concerning ideas.

From the account I have given, one would be apt to conclude
that Arnauld totally denied the exiflence of ideas, in the philo-
fophical fenfe of that word, and that he adopted the notion of the
vulgar, who acknowledge no objedl of perception but the external
objedl. But he feems very unwilling to deviate fo far from the
common track, and what he had given up with one hand he takes
back with the othen

For, Jir/fi Having defined ideas to be the fame thing with per-
ceptions, he adds this qualification to his definition : " I do not
" here confider whether there are other things that may be called
** ideas ; but it is certain there are ideas taken in this fenfe." I
believe, indeed, there is no Philofopher who does not, on fome
occafions, life the word idea in this popular fenfe.

Secondly, He fupports this popular fenfe of the word by tlie au-
thority of Des Cartes, who, in his demonftration of the exift-
ence of God from the idea of him in our minds, defines an idea
thus : " By the word idea, I underftand that form of any thought,
" by the immediate perception of which I am confcious of that
" thought ; fo that I can exprefs nothing by words, with under-
" (landing, without being certain that there is in my mind the
" idea of that which is exprefTed by the words." This definition
feems indeed to be of the fame import with that which is given
by Arnauld. But Des Cartes adds a qualification to it, which
Arnauld, in quoting it, omits ; and which fliews, that Des
Cartes meant to limit his definition to the idea then treated of,
that is, to the idea of the Deity ; and that there are other ideas

B b 2 to

196 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XIII. to which this definition does not apply. For he adds : " And thu»
" I give the name of idea, not folely to the images painted in the
" phantafy. Nay, in this place, I do not at all give the name of
" ideas to thofe images, in fo far as they are painted in the corpo-
" real phantafy that is in fome part of the brain, but only in fo
' " far as they inform the mind,, turning its attention to that part
" of the brain."

Thirdly^ Arnauld has employed the whole of his fixth chapter,
to Ihew that thefe ways of fpeaking, common among Philofophers,
to wit, that we perceive not things immediately ; that it is their ideas that
are the immediate objeSls of our thoughts ; that it is in the idea of every
thing that tve perceive its properties^ are not to be reje(5led, but are
true when rightly underftood. He labours to reconcile thefe ex-
preffions to his own definition of ideas, by obfefving, that every
perception and every thought is neceflarily confctous of itfelf, and
refledls upon itfelf; and that, by this confcioufnefs and refle<5lion,^
it is its own immediate objedl. Whence he infers, that the idea,
that is, the perception, is the immediate objedt of perception..

Tliis looks like a weak attempt to reconcile two inconfifteuc
do6lrines by one who wiflaes to hold both. It is true, that confci-
oufnefs always goes along with perception j but they are different
operations of the mind, and they have their different objecls.
Confcioufnefs is not perception, nor is the objedl of confcioufnefs
the obje(5l of perception. The fame may be faid of every opera-
tion of mind that has an objedt. Thus, injury is the objedt of
refentment. When I refent an injury, I am confcious of my re-
fentment ; that is, my refentment is the immediate and the only
objedl of my confcioufnefs ; but it would be abfurd to infer from
this, that my refentment is the immediate objedl of my refent-
ment. ^

Upon the whole, if Arnauli>, in eonfequence of his dotflrine,
that ideas, taken for reprefentative images of external objec^ls, are

a

OF THE SENTIMENTS OF ANTONY ARNAULD. 197

a mere fidion of the Philofophers, had rejeded boldly the doc- CHAP. XIV.
trine of Des Cartes, as well as of tke other Philofophers, con-
cerning thofe fiditious beings, and all the ways of fpeaking that
imply their exiftence, I {hould have thought him more confiflenc
with himfelf, and his dodrine concerning ideas more rational and
more intelligible than that of any other author of my acquaint-
ance who has treated of the fubje<Sl.

C H'^AL't.^ XIV.

ReJleBions on the common Theory of Ideas.

AFTER fo long a detail of the fentiments of Philofophers, an-
cient and modern, concerning ideas, it may feem prefump-
tuous to call in queftion their exiftence. But no philofophical opi-
nion, however ancient, however generally received, ought to reft
upon authority. There is no prefumption in requiring evidence
for it^ or in regulating our belief by thje evidence we can find.

To prevent miftakes, the reader muft again be reminded, that if
by ideas are meant only the a<5ts or operations of our minds in per-
ceiving, remembering, or imagining objecls, I am far from calling
in queftion the exiftence of thofe ads ; we are confcious of them
every day, and every hour of life ; and I believe no man of a
found mind ever doubted of the real exiftence of the operations of
mind, of which he is confcious. Nor is it to be doubted, that,
by the faculties which God has given us, we can conceive thing*
that are abfent, as well as perceive thofe that are within the reach
of our fenfes ; and that fuch conceptions may be more or lefs di-
ftind, and more or lefs lively and ftrong. We have reafon to
afcribe to the all-knowing and all-perfed Being diftindl conceptions
of all things exiftent and poflible, and of all their relations ;
and if thefe conceptions are called his eternal ideas, there ought

to

198 E S S A Y II.

CHAP.XIV. fQ be no difpute among Philofophers about a word. The ideas, of
whofe exiflence I require the proof, are not the operations of any
mind, but fuppofed objects of thofe operations. They are not per-
ception, remembrance, or conception, but things that are faid to
be perceived, or remembered, or imagined.

Nor do I difpute the exiftence of what the vulgar call the objeds
of perception. Thefe, by all who acknowledge their exiflence, are
called real things, not ideas. But Philofophers maintain, that, be-
fides thefe, there are immediate objedls of perception in the mind
itfelf : That, for inftance, we do not fee the fun immediately, but
an idea ; or, as Mr Hume calls it, an impreffion, in our own
minds. This idea is faid to be the image, the refemblance, the re-
prefentative of the fun, if there be a fun. It is from the exiflence
of the idea that we mufl infer the exiflence of the fun. But the
idea, being immediately perceived, there can be no doubt, as
Philofophers think, of its exiflence.

In like manner, when I remember, or when I imagine any thing,
all men acknowledge that there mufl be fomething that is remem-
bered, or that is imagined; that is, fome objedl of thofe operations.
The objedl remembered mufl be fomething that did exifl in time
pafl. The objedl imagined may be fomething that never exifled.
But, fay the Philofophers, befides thefe objedls which all men ac-
knowledge, there is a more immediate obje<5l which really exifls
in the mind at the fame time we remember or imagine. This ob-
jed is an idea or image of the thing remembered or imagined.

Thsjirji refledlion I would make on this philofophical opinion
if, That it is diredlly contrary to the univerfal fenfe of men who
have not been inflrudled in philofophy. When we fee the fun or
moon, we have no doubt that the very objedls which we immedi-
ately fee, are very far diflant from us, and from one another. We
have not the leafl doubt that this is the fun and moon which God
created fome thoufands of years ago, and which have continued to

perform

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. T99

perform their revolutions in the heavens ever fince. But how are ^^^^^^f^'

we aftonilhed when the Philofopher informs us, that we are mif-

taken in all this ; that the fun and moon which we fee, are not,

as we imagine, many miles diftaijt from us, and from each other,

but that they are in our own mind ; that they had no exiflence

before we faw them, and will have none when we ceafe to perceive

and to think of them ; becaufe the objedls we perceive arc only

ideas in our own minds, which can have no exiftence a moment

longer than we think of them.

If a plain man, uninftrudled in philofophy, has faith to receive
thefe myfteries, how great muft be his aftonilhment. He is brought
into a new world where every thing he fees, taftes, or touches, h
an idea; a fleeting kind of being which he can conjure into exifl-
ence, or can annihilate in the twinkling of an eye.

After his mind is fomewhat compofed, it will be natural for him
to aflc his philofophical inftrudor. Pray, Sir, are there then no fub-
ftantial and permanent beings called the fun and moon, which con-
tinue to exift whether we think of them or not ?

Here the Philofophers differ. Mr Locke, and thofe that were
before him, will anfwer to this queftion. That it is very true, there
are fubftantial and permanent beings called the fun and moon ;
but they never appear to us in their own perfon, but by their re-
prefentatives, the ideas in our own minds, and we know nothing
of them but what we can gather from thofe ideas.

Bifhop Berkeley and Mr Hume would give a different anfwer
to the queflion propofed : They would afTure the querift, that it is
a vulgar error, a mere prejudice of the ignorant and unlearned, to
think that there are any permaiient and fubftantial beings called
the fun and moon ; that the heavenly bodies, our own bodies^
and all bodies whatfoever, are nothing but ideas in our minds ;
and that there can be nothing like the ideas of one mind, but the-

ideas-

20O ' E S S A Y 11.

CHAP.xiy. ideas of another mind. There is nothing in nature but minds and
ideas, fays the Bifliop, nay, fays Mr Hume, there is nothing in
nature but ideas only ", for what we call a mind is nothing but a
train of ideas conne<5led by certain relations between themfelves.

In this reprefcntation of the theory of ideas, there is nothing ex-
aggerated or mifreprefented, as far as I am able to judge ; and
furely nothing farther is necelTary to Ihew, that, to the uninflruded
in philofophy, it muft appear extravagant and vifionary, and moft
contrary to the didlates of common underftanding.

There is the lefs need of any farther proof of this, that it is very
amply acknowledged by Mr Hume in his EfTay on the academical
or fceptical Philofophy. " It feems evident, fays he, that men are
" carried by a natural inflindl, or prepoireffion, to repofe faith in
*' their fenfes ; and that without any reafoning, or even almoft
" before the ufe of reafon, we always fuppofe an external univerfe,
" .which depends not on our perception, but would exift though
" we and every fenfible creature were abfent or annihilated. Even
" the animal creation are governed by a like opinion, and preferve
" this belief of external objedls in all their thoughts, defigns, and
" aaions."

" It feems alfo evident, that when men follow this blind and
powerful inflincfl of nature, they always fuppofe the very images
prefented by the fenfes to be the external objedls, and never en-
tertain any fufpicion, that the one are nothing but reprefenta-
tions of the other. This very table which we fee white, and
feel hard, is believed to exift independent of our perception, and
to be fomething external to the mind which perceives it ; our
prefence beftows not being upon it ; our abfence annihilates it
not : It preferves its exiftence uniform and entire, independent
of the fituation of intelligent beings who perceive or contem-
plate it."

" But

u

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. aoi

" But this univerfal and primary notion of all men is foon de- CHAP.XIV-
flroyed by the flighteft philoibphy, which teaches us, that no-
thing can ever be prefent to the mind, buc an image or percep-
tion ; and that the fenfes are only the inlets through which thefe
images are received, without being ever able to produce any
immediate intercourfe between the mind and the objedl."

It is therefore acknowledged by this Philofopher, to be a natural
inftindl or prepoffeffion, an univerfal and primary opinion of all
men, a primary inftindl of nature, that the objedls which we im-
mediately perceive by our fenfes, are not images in our minds, but
external objecfls, and that their exiftence is independent of us, and
our perception.

In this acknowledgment, Mr Hume indeed feems to me more
generous, and even more ingenuous than Bifliop Berkeley, who
would perfuade us, that his opinion does not oppofe the vulgar
opinion, but only that of the Philofophers ; and that the external
exiftence of a material world is a philofophical hypothefis, and not
the natural didlate of our perceptive powers. The Bifhop Ihows a
timidity of engaging fuch an adverfary, as a primary and univerfal
opinion of all men. He is rather fond to court its patronage. But
the Philofopher intrepidly gives a defiance to this antagonift, and
feems to glory in a confli6l that was worthy of his arm. Optat apruni
aut fulvtim defcendere monte leonem. After all, I fufpefl that a Philo-
fopher, who wages war with this adverfary, will find himfelf in the
fame condition as a Mathematician who {hould undertake to de-
monftrate, that there is no truth in the axioms of mathematics.

Afecond refledlion upon this fubje6l is. That the authors who
have treated of ideas, have generally taken their exiftence for
granted, as a thing that could not be called in queftion ; and fuch
arguments as they have mentioned incidentally, in order to prove
it, feem too weak to fupport the conclufion.

C c Mr

202 E S S A Y n.

CHAPXiv. jyj,. Locke, in the introdudion to his Eflky, tells us, that he
ufes the word idea to fignlfy whatever is the immediate objed: of
thought ; and then adds, " I prefume it will be eafily granted me
" that there are fuch ideas in mens minds ; every one isconfcious
" of them in himfelf, and mens words and adlions will fatisfy him
" that they are in others." I am indeed confcious of perceiving,
remembering, imagining ; but that the objects of thefe operations
are images in my mind, I am not confcious. I am fatisfied by
mens words and acflions, that they often perceive the fame objedls
which I perceive, which could not be, if thofe obje<5ls were ideas
in their own minds.

•

Mr NoRRis is the only author I have met with, who profefledly
puts the queftion, "Whether material things can be perceived by
us immediately ? He has offered four arguments to fliow that they
cannot. Firjl^ " Material objedls are without the mind, and there-
fore there can be no union between the objedl and the percipient."
Anfwer^ This argument is lame, until it is Ihown to be neceflary
that in perception there fhould be a union between the objed and
. the percipient. Second^ " Material objedls are difproportioned to
" the mind, and removed from it by the whole diameter of Being."
This argument I cannot anfwer, becaufe I do not underfland it.
Thirds " Becaufe, if material objedls were immediate objetfts of
" perception, there could be no phyfical fcience ; things neceflary
" and immutable being the only object of fcience." Anfwer^ Al-
though things neceflary and immutable be not the immediate ob-
je6ls of perception, they may be immediate objedls of other powers
of the mind. Fourth^ *' If material things were perceived by
" themfelves, they would be a true light to our minds, as being
" the intelligible form of our underftandings, and confequently
" perfe(nive of them, and indeed fuperior to them." If I com-
prehend any thing of this myft;erious argument, it follows from
it, that the Deity perceives nothing at all, becaufe nothing can be
fuperior to his underftanding, or pcrfedive of it.

There

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 203

There is an argument which is hinted at by Malebranche, and CHAPXIV-
by feveral other authors, which deferves to be more ferioufly con-
fidered. As I find it mofl: clearly exprefTed, and mod fully urged
by Dr Samuel Clarke, I fliall give it in his words, in his fe-
cond reply to Leibnitz, fedl. 4. " The foul, without being pre-
*' fent to the images of the things perceived, could not poflibly
" perceive them. A living fubftance can only there perceive,
" where it is prefent, either to the things themfelves, (as the om-
" niprefent God is to the whole univerfe), or to the images of
" things, as the foul is in its proper ^;j/or/«/w.""'

Sir Isaac Newton exprefles the fame fentiment, but with his
ufual referve, in a query only.

The ingenious Dr Porterfield, in his Effay concerning the
motions of our eyes, adopts this opinion with more confidence.
His words are : " How body adls upon mind, or mind upon
" body, I know not ; but this I am very certain of, that
" nothing can a(5t, or be acSled upon, where it is not; and
" therefore our mind can never perceive any thing but its own
" proper modifications, and the various ftates of the fenforium,
" to which it is prefent : So that it is not the external fun and
" moon which are in the heavens, which our mind perceives, but
" only their image or reprefentation impreffed upon the fenforium.
" How the foul of a feeing man Cees thefe images, or how it re-
*' ceives thofe ideas, from fuch agitations in the fenforium, I know
" not ; but I am fure it can never perceive the external bodies
" themfelves, to which it is not prefent."

Thefe, indeed, are great authorities ; but, in matters of philo-
fophy, we mufl: not be guided by authority, but by reafon. Dr
Clarke, in the place cited, mentions flightly, as the reafon of his
opinion, that " nothing can any more adl, or be adled upon,
" when it is not prefent, than it can be where it is not." And
again, in his third reply to Leibnitz, fed. ii. " We are fure

C c 2 " the

204

ESSAY II.

CHAF.XIV. « ti^e foul cannot perceive what it is not prefent to, becaufe no-
" thing can adl, or be a(5led upon, where it is not." The fame
reafon we fee is urged by Dr Porterfield.

That nothing can adl imniediately where it is not, I think mufl
be admitted; for I agree with Sir Isaac Newton, that power
without fubftance is; inconceivable. It is a confequence of this,
that nothing can be adled upon immediately where the agent is not
prefent : Let this therefore be granted. To make the reafoning
conclufive, it is farther neceffary, that, when we perceive objedls,
either they adl upon us, or we adl upon them. This does not ap-
pear felf-evident, nor have I ever met with any proof of it. I
fliall briefly offer the reafons why I think it ought not to be ad-
mitted.

When we fay that one being adls upon another, we mean that
fome power or force is exerted by the agent, which produces, or
has a tendency to produce, a change in the thing adled upon. If
this be the meaning of the phrafe, as I conceive it is, there appears
no reafon for afferting, that, in perception, either the objedl adls
upon the mind, or the mind upon the objedl.

An objedl, in being perceived, does not adl at all. I perceive
the walls of the room where I fit ; but they are perfedlly inadlive,
and therefore adl not upon the mind. To be perceived, is what
Logicians call an external denomination, which implies neither ac-
tion nor quality in the objedl perceived. Nor could men ever
have gone into this notion, that perception is owing to fome adlion
of the objedl upon the mind, were it not, that we are fo prone to
form our notions of the mind from fome fimilitude we conceive
between it and body. Thought in the mind is conceived to have
fome analogy to motion in a body : And as a body is put in mo-
tion, by being adled upon by fome other body ; fo we are apt to
think the mind is made to perceive, by fome impulfe it receives
from the objedl. But reafonings, drawn from fuch analogies,

ought

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 205

ought never to be trufled. They are, indeed, the caufe of mod CHAF.XIV.
of our errors with regard to the mind. And we might as well
conclude, that minds may be meafured by feet and inches, or
weighed by ounces and drachms, becaufe bodies have thofe pro-
perties.

I fee as little reafon, in the fccond place, to believe, that in per-
ception the mind adls upon the objedl. To perceive an obje6l is
one thing ; to adl upoii it is another : Nor is the laft at all inclu-
ded in the firft. To fay, that I adt upon the wall, by looking at it,
is an abufe of language, and has no meaning. Logicians diftin-
guifli two kinds of operations of mind ; the firft kind produces no
eflfedl without the mind ; the laft does. The firft they call imma-
nent aEis^ the fecond tranfitive. All intelledlual operations belong
to the firft clafs ; they produce no efFedl upon any external objedl.
But without having recourfe to logical diftin(5lions, every man of
common fenfe knows, that to think of an objedl, and to adl upon
it, are very different things.

As we have therefore no evidence, that, in perception, the mind
adls upon the objedl, or the objedl upon the mind, but ftrong
reafons to the contrary ; Dr Clarke's argument againft our per-
ceiving external objedls immediately falls to the ground.

This notion, that, in perception, the objedl muft be contiguous
to the percipient, feems, with many other prejudices, to be bor-
rowed from analogy. In all the external fenfes, there muft, as
has been before obferved, be fome imprefllon made upon the or-
gan of fenfe by the objedl, or by fbmething coming from the ob-
jedt. An impreflion fuppofes contiguity. Hence we are led by
analogy to conceive fomething fimilar in the operations of the
mind. Many Philofophers refolve almoft every operation of mind
into impreflions and feelings, words manifeftly borrowed from the
fenfe of touch. And it is very natural to conceive contiguity ne-
cefTary between that which makes the impreflion, and that which

receives

ao6 ESSAY II.

CHAP XIV receives it ; between that which feels, and that which is felt. And
though no Philofopher will now pretend to juftify fuch analogical
reafoning as this j yet it has a powerful influence upon the judg-
ment, v/hile we contemplate the operations of our minds, only as
they appear through the deceitful medium of fuch analogical no-
tions and expreffions.

When we lay afide thofe analogies, and refledl attentively upon
our perception of the objecHis of fenfe, we muft acknowledge, that,
though we are confcious of perceiving objedls, we are altogether
ignorant how it is brought about ; and know as little how we per-
ceive objeds as how we were made. And if we fhould admit an
image in the mind, or contiguous to it, we know as little how
perception may be produced by this image as by the mofl; diflant
objedl. Why therefore fhould we be led, by a theory which is
neither grounded on evidence, nor, if admitted, can explain any
one phaenomenon of perception, to rejedl the natural and imme-
diate dictates of thofe perceptive powers, to which, in the conduct
of life, we find a necefhty of yielding implicit fubmiflion ?

There remains only one other argument that I have been able to
find urged againft our perceiving external objedls immediately. It
is propofed by Mr Hume, who, in the Eflay already quoted, after
acknowledging that it is an univerfal and primary opinion of all
men, that we perceive external obje(5ls immediately, fubjoins what
follows.

" But this univerfal and primary opinion of all men is foon de-

" ftroyed by the flighted philofophy, which teaches us, that no-
thing can ever be prefent to the mind but an image or percep-

" tion ; and that the fenfes are only the inlets through which thefe
images are received, without being ever able to produce any im-

*' mediate intercourfe between the mind and the objed. TJie
table, which we fee, feems to diminifh as we remove farther

** from it : But the real table, which exifts independent of us, fuf-

" fers

REFLECTIONS ON THE TFIEORY OF IDEAS. 207

" fers no alteration. It was therefore nothing but its image which ^^HAP^OV-

" was prefent to the mind. Thefe are the obvious didtates of rea-

" fon ; and no man who reflecfls, ever doubted that the exiftences

" which we confider, when we fay this bou/e, and ihat tree^ are no-

" thing but perceptions in the mind, and fleeting copies and re-

" prefentations of other exiftences, which remain uniform and in-

" dependent. So far then, we are neceflltated, by reafoning, to

" depart from the primary inftinfts of nature, and to embrace a

" new fyftem with regard to the evidence of our fenfes."

We have here a remarkable confli(5l between two contradi(5lory
opinions, wherein all mankind are engaged. On the one fide
ftand all the vulgar, who are unpradlifed in philofophical refearches,
and guided by the uncorrupted primary inftin6ts of nature. On
the other fide, ftand all the Philofophers ancient and modern ; eve-
ry man without exception who refle<5ts. In this divifion, to my
great humiliation, 1 find myfelf claflTed with the vulgar.

The pafTage now quoted is all I have found in Mr Hume's wri-
tings upon this point ; and indeed there is more reafoning in it
than I have found in any other author ; I fliall therefore examine
it minutely.

Firji^ He tells us. That " this univerfal and primary opinion of all
" men is foon deftroyed by the flighteft philofophy, which teaches
" us, that nothing can ever be prefent to the mind but an image
" or perception."

The phrafe of being prefent to the mind has fome obfcurity ; but
I conceive he means being an immediate obje<5l of thought ; an
immediate objedl, for inftance, of perception, of memory, or of
imagination. If this be the meaning, (and it is the only pertinent
one I can think of), there is no more in this paflage but an aflTertion
of the propofition to be proved, and an aflertion that philofophy
teaches it. If this be fo, I beg leave to diflent from philofophy

till

2o8 E S S A Y II.

CHAP.Xlv. till fl^c gives me reafon for what flie teaches. For though common
fenfe and my external fenfes demand my affent to their didlates
upon their own authority, yet philofophy is not entitled to this
privilege. But that I may not difTent from fo grave a perfonage
without giving a reafon, I give this as the reafon of my diffent. I
fee the fun when he fliines ; I remember the battle of Culloden j
and neither of thefe objedls is an image or perception.

He tells us in the next place, " That the fenfes are only the in-
" lets through which thefe images are received."

I know that Aristotle and the fchoolmen taught, -that images
or fpecies flow from objeds, and are let in by the fenfes, and flrike
upon the mind ; but this has been fo efFe(5lually refuted by Des
Cartes, by Malebranche, and many others, that nobody now
pretends to defend it. Reafonable men confider it as one of the
moft unintelligible and unmeaning parts of the ancient fyftem. To
what caufe is it owing that modern Philofophers are fo prone to
fall back into this hypothefis, as if they really believed it ? For of
this pronenefs I could give many inftances befides this of Mr Hume ;
and I take the caufe to be, that images in the mind, and images
let in by the fenfes, are fo nearly allied, and fo ftridlly conneflcd,
that they muft (land or fall together. The old fyftem confiftently
maintained both : But the new fyftem has rejedled the dodlrine of
images let in by the fenfes, holding, neverthelefs, that there are
images in the mind ; and, having made this unnatural divorce of
two dodlrines which ought not to be put afunder, that which they
have retained often leads them back involuntarily to that which
they have rejedled.

Mr Hume farely did not ferioufly believe that an image of found
is let in by the ear, an image of fmell by the nofe, an image of
hardnefs and foftnefs, of folidity and refiftance, by the touch.
For, befides the abfurdity of the thing, which has often been
ftiown, Mr Hume, and all modern Philofophers maintain, that the

images

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 109

images which are the immediate objedls of perception have no ex- CHAP- Xiv-
iftence when they are not perceived ; whereas, if they were let in
by the fenfes, they muft be, before they are perceived, and have '^j
a feparate exiftence.

He tells us farther, that philofophy teaches, that the fenfes arc
unable to produce any immediate intercourfe between the mind
and the objcd. Here, I ftill require the reafons that philofophy
gives for this ; for, to my apprehenfion, I immediately perceive ex-
ternal objects, and this I conceive is the immediate intercourfe
here meant.

Hitherto I fee nothing that can be called an argument. Perhaps
it was intended only for illuftration. The argument, the only ar-
gument follows :

The table which we fee, feems to diminifli as we remove farther
from it ; but the real table which exifts independent of us fuffers
no alteration : It was therefore nothing but its image which was
prefented to the mind. Thefe are the obvious dictates of reafon.

To judge of the ftrength of this argument, it is neceffary to at-
tend to a diftindlion which is familiar to thofe who are converfant
in the mathematical fciences, I mean the diflin(5lion between real
and apparent magnitude. The real magnitude of a line is mea-
fured by fome known meafure of length, as inches, feet, or miles :
The real magnitude of a furface or folid, by known meafures of
furface or of capacity. This magnitude is an objedl of touch only,
and not of fight ; nor could we even have had any conception of
it, without the fenfe of touch ; and Bifhop Berkeley, on tliat ac-
count, calls it tangible magnitude.

Apparent magnitude is meafured by the angle which an obje<H:
fubtends at the eye. Suppofing two right lines drawn from the
eye to the extremities of the obje«5l making an angle, of which the

D d objea

210 ESSAY 11.

CHAf-XlV- obje(5l is the fubtenfe, the apparent magnitude is meafured by this
angle. This apparent magnitude is an obje(fl of fight, and not of
touch. Bifliop Berkeley calls it viftble magnitude.

If it is a£ked, what is the apparent magnitude of the fun's dia-
meter ? the anfwer is, that it is about thirty-one minutes of a de-
gree. But if it is afkcd, what is the real magnitude of the fun's
diameter? the anfwer muft be, fo many thoufand miles, or fo
many diameters of the earth. From which it is evident, that real
magnitude, and apparent magnitude, are things of a different na-
ture, though the name of magnitude is given to both. Tlie firll
has three dimenfions, the laft only two. The firft is meafured by
a line, the laft by an angle.

From what has been faid, it is evident that the real magnitude
of a body muft continue unchanged, while the body is unchanged.
This we grant. But is it likewife evident, that the apparent mag-
nitude muft continue the fame while the body is unchanged ? So
far otherwife, that every man who knows any thing of mathematics
can eafily demonftrate, that the fame individual obje^, remaining
in the fame place, and unchanged, muft neccffarily vary in its ap-
parent magnitude, according as the point from which it is feen is
more or lefs diftant ; and that its apparent length or breadth will
be nearly in a reciprocal proportion to the diftancc of the fpedlator.
This is as certain as the principles of geometry.

We muft likewife attend to this, that though the real magnitude
of a body is not originally an objedl of fight, but of touch, yet we
learn by experience to judge of the real magnitude in many cafes
by fight. We learn by experience to judge of the diftance of a
body from the eye within certain limits ; and froni its diftance
and apparent magnitude taken together, we learn to judge of its
real magnitude.

And this kind of judgment, by being repeated every hour, and

almoft

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 211

almoft every minute of our lives, becomes, when we are grown up, CHAP- Xiv.
fo ready and fo habitual, that it very much refembles the original
perceptions of our fenfes, and may not improperly be called acquis
red perception.

Whether we call it judgment or acquired perception is a verbal
difference. But it is evident, that, by means of it, we often difco-
ver by one fenfe things which are properly and naturally the ob-
jeds of another. Thus I can fay without impropriety, I hear a
drum, I hear a great bell, or I hear a fmall bell ; though it is cer-
tain that the figure or fize of the founding body is not originally
an objecSl of hearing. In like manner, we learn by experience how
a body of fuch a real magnitude, and at fuch a diftance appears to
the eye : But neither its real magnitude, nor its diftance from the
eye, are properly objeiSts of fight, any more than the form of a
drum, or the fize of a bell, are properly objedls of hearing.

If thefe things be confidered, it will appear, that Mr Hume's
argument hath no force to fupport his conclufion, nay, that it leads
to a contrary conclufion. The argument is this, the table we fee
feems to diminifla as we remove farther frorft it ; that is, its appa-
rent magnitude is diminifhed ; but the real table fuifers no altera-
tion, to wit, in its real magnitude ; therefore it is not the real /'IO
table we fee : I admit both the premifes in this fyllogifm, but I
deny the conclufion. The fyllogifm has what the Logicians call
two middle terms : Apparent magnitude is the middle term in the
firft premife ; real magnitude in the fecond. Therefore, according
to the rules of logic, the conclufion is not juftly drawn from the
premifes ; but, laying afide the rules of logic, let us examine it
by the light of common fenfe.

Let us fuppofe, for a moment, that it is the real table we fee :
Muft not this real table feem to diminifli as we remove farther
from it ? It is demonftrable that it muft. How then can this ap-
parent diminution be a.jx argument that it is not the re^l table ?

D d a When

2i;

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XIV. "When that which muft happen to the real table, as we remove far-
ther from it, does adlually happen to the table we fee, it is abfurd
to conclude from this, that it is not the real table we fee. It is
evident therefore, that this ingenious author has impofed upon
himfelf by confounding real magnitude with apparent magnitude,
and that his argument is a mere fophifm.

I obferved that Mr Hume's argument not only has no ftrength
to fupport his conclufion, but that it leads to the contrary conclu-
fion ; to wit, that it is the real table we fee ; for this plain reafon,
that the table we fee has precifely that apparent magnitude which
it is demonftrable the real table muft have when placed at that
diftance.

This argument is made much ftronger by confidering, that the
real table may be placed fucceffively at a thoufand different di-
ftances ; and in' every diftance, in a thoufand difierent politions ;
and it can be determined demonftratively, by the rules of geometry
and perfpetSlive, what muft be its apparent magnitude, and appa-
rent figure, in each of thofe diftances and politions. Let the table
be placed fucceffively in as many of thofe different diftances, and
different pofitions, as you will, or in them all ; open your eyes
and you fhall fee a table precifely of that apparent magnitude, and
that apparent figure, which the real table muft have in that diftance,
and in that pofition. Is not this a ftrong argument that it is the
real table you fee ?

In a word, the appearance of a vifible obje^fl is infinitely diver-
fified, according to its diftance and pofition. The vifible appear-
ances are innumerable, when we confine ourfelves to one objed.,
and they are multiplied according to the variety of objects. Thofe
appearances have been matter of fpeculation to ingenious men, at
leaft fince the time of Euclid. They have accounted for all this
variety, on the fuppofirion, that the objects we fee are external, and
not in the mind itfelf The rules they have demonftrated abont

the

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 213

the various projedlions of the fphere, about the appearances of the CHAP. Xiv.

planets in their progreffions, ftations, and retrogradations, and aU

the rules of perfpecflive, are built on the fuppofition that the obje6ls

of fight are external. They can each of them be tried in thoufands^

of inflances. In many arts and profeflions innumerable trials are

daily made ; nor were they ever found to fail in a fingle inftance.

Shall we fay that a falfe fuppofition, invented by the rude vulgar,

has been fo lucky in folving an infinite number of phenomena of

nature ? This furely would be a greater prodigy than philofophy

ever exhibited : Add to this, that upon the contrary hypothefis, to

wit, that the objedls of fight are internal, no account can be given

of any one of thofe appearances, nor any phyfical caufe affigned

tvhy a vifible obje(5l fliould, in any one cafe, have one apparent

figure and magnitude rather than another.

Thus I have confidered every argument I have found advanced
to prove the exiftence of ideas, or images of external things, in the
mind : And if no better arguments can be found, I cannot help
thinking, that the whole hiftory of philofophy has never furnifhed
an inftance" of an opinion fo unanimoufly entertained by Philofo-
phers upon fo flight grounds.

A third refledlion I would make upon this fubjeft is. That Philo-
fophers, notwithftanding their unanimity as to the exiftence of ideas,,
hardly agree in any one thing elfe concerning them. If ideas be ^"^
not a mere fidion, they muft be, of all objeds of human know- ^-
ledge, the things we have beft accefs to know, and to be acquainted
with ; yet there is nothing about which men differ fo much.

Some have held them to be felf-exiftent, others to be in the
Divine Mind, others in our own minds, and others in the brain
ox fenjoriiim ; I confidered the hypothefis of images in the brain, in
the fourth chapter of this Effay. As to images in the mind, if any
thing more is meant by the image of an objecfl in the mind than
the thought of that objed, I know not what it means. The diftind

concepcioii

214 E S S A Y II.

CHAP XIV conception of an objed may, in a metaphorical or analogical fenfe,
'' be called an image of it in the mind. But this image is only the

conception of the objed, and not the objed conceived. It is an
ad of the mind, and not the objedl of that a<5l.

Some Philofophers will have our ideas, or a part of them, to be
innate ; others will have them all to be adventitious : Some derive
them from the fenfes alone ; others from fenfation and refledion :
Some think they are fabricated by the mind itfelf ; others that they
are produced by external objeds ; others that they are the imme-
diate operation of the Deity ; others fay, that imprefTions are the
caufes of ideas, and that the caufes of impreffions are unknown :
Some think that we have ideas only of material objects, but none
of minds, of their operations, or of the relations of things ; others
will have the immediate objedl of every thought to be an idea :
Some think we have abftrad ideas, and'that by this chiefly we are
diftinguiflied from the brutes ; others maintain an abftrad idea to
, be an abfurdity, and that there can be no fuch thing : With fome
they are the immediate objedls of thought, with others the only
objedls.

A fourth reflection is, That ideas do not make any of the opera-
tions of the mind to be better underilood, although it was proba-
bly with that view that they have been firft invented, and after-
wards fo generally received.

We are at a lofs to know how we perceive difliant objeds ; how
; we remember things pafl; ; how we imagine things that have no

exiflence. Ideas in the mind feem to account for all thefe opera-
tions : They are all by the means of ideas reduced to one opera-
tion; to a kind of feeling, or immediate perception of things pre-
fent, and in contad with the percipient ; and feeling is an opera-
tion fo familiar, that we think it needs no explication, but may
ferve to explain other operations.

But

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 215

But this feeling, or immediate perception, is as difficult to be CHAP.xiV.
comprehended, as the things which wc pretend to explain by it.
Two things may be in contadl without any feeling or perception;
there muft therefore be in the percipient a power to feel or to per-
ceive. How this power is produced, and how it operates, is quite
beyond the reach of our knowledge. As little can we know whe-
ther this power muft be limited to things prefent, and in contadl
with us. Nor can any man pretend to prove, that the Being, who
gave us the power to perceive things prefent, may not give us the
power to perceive things that are diftant, to remember things paft,
and to conceive things that never exifted.

Some Philofophers have endeavoured to make all our fenfes to»
be only different modifications of touch ; a theory which ferves
only to confound things that are different, and to perplex and
darken things that arc clear. The theory of ideas refembles this,
by reducing all the operations of the human underftanding to the
perception of ideas in our own minds. This power of perceiving
ideas is as inexplicable as any of the powers explained by it : And
the contiguity of the objedl contributes nothing at all to make it
better underftood ; becaufe there appears no connetflion between
contiguity and perception, but what is grounded on prejudices,
drawn from fome imagined limilitude between mind and body ;
and from the fuppofition, that, in perception, theobjec5l adls upon
the mind, or the mind upon the object. Wc have feen how this
theory has led Philofophers to confound thofe operations of mind,
which experience teaches all men to be different, and teaches them
to diftinguifh in common language ; and that it has led them to
invent a language inconfiftent with the principles upon which all
language is grounded.

The lajl refledlion I fhall make upon this theory, is. That the na-
tural and neceflary confequences of it furnifli a juft prejudice
againfl it to every man who pays a dvie regard to the commoi>
fenfe of mankind.

Nor.

2i6 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XIV.

Not to mention, that It led the Pythagoreans and Plato to ima-
gine that we fee only the fhadows of external things, and not the
things themfelves, and that it gave rife to the Peripatetic dodrine
of knCible ^ecies, one of the greatefl: abfurdities of that ancient
fyftem, let us only conlider the fruits it has produced, fince it was
new-modelled by Des Cartes. That great reformer in philofophy
faw the abfurdity of the do<5lrine of ideas coming from external
obje(5ls, and refuted it efFedlually, after it had been received by
Philofophers for thoufands of years ; but he ftill retained ideas in
the brain and in the mind. Upon this foundation all our modern
fyftems of the powers of the mind are built. And the tottering
ftate of thofe fabrics, though built by fkilful hands, may give a
ftrong fufpicion of the unfoundnefs of the foundation.

It was this theory of ideas that led Des Cartes, and thofe that
followed him, to think it neceflary to prove, by philofophical ar-
guments, the exiftence of material obje<5ls. And who does not fee
that philofophy mufl make a very ridiculous figure in the eyes of
fenfible men, while it is employed in muftering up metaphyfical
arguments, to prove that there is a fun and a moon, an earth and
a fea : Yet we find thefe truly great men, Des Cartes, Male-
BRANCHE, Arnauld, and Locke, ferioufly employing themfelves
in this argument.

Surely their principles led them to think, that all men, from the
beginning of the world, believed the exiftence of thefe things
.upon infufEcient grounds, and to think that they would be able to
place upon a more rational foundation this univerfal belief of man-
kind. But the misfortune is, that all the laboured arguments
they have advanced, to prove the exiftence of thofe things we fee
and feel, are mere fophifms : Not one of them will bear exami-
nation.

I might mention feveral paradoxes, which Mr Locke, though
by no means fond of paradoxes, was led into by this theory of

ideas.

REFLECTIONS ON THE THEORY OF IDEAS. 217

ideas. Such as, that the fecondary quaUties of body are no quali- ^^^^•'^^^;
ties of body at all, but fenfations of the mhid : That" the primary
qualities of body are refemblances of our fenfations : That we
have no notion of duration, but from the fucceflion of ideas in
our minds : That perfonal identity conlifts in confcioufnefs ; fo
that the fame individual thinking being may make two or three
different perfons, and feveral different thinking beings make one
perfon : That judgment is nothing but a perception of the agree-
ment or difagreement of our ideas. Moft of thefe paradoxes I
fhall have occafion to examine.

However, all thefe confe'quences of the docflrine of ideas were
tolerable, compared with thofe which came afterwards to be dif-
covered by Berkeley and Hume. That there is no material
world : No abllra(fl ideas or notions : That the mind is only a
train of related impreffions and ideas, without any fubjedl on
which they may be imprefTed : That there is neither fpace nor
time, body nor mind, but impreffions and ideas only : And, to
fum up all. That there is no probability, even in demonflration
itfelf, nor any one propofition more probable than its contrary.

Thefe are the noble fruits which have grown upon this theory
of ideas, fince it began to be cultivated by flcilful hands. It is
no wonder that fenfible men fhould be difgufted at philofophy,
when fuch wild and Ihocking paradoxes pafs under its name.
However, as thefe paradoxes have, with great acutenefs and inge-
nuity, been deduced by jufl reafoning from the theory of ideas,
they muft at lad bring this advantage, that pofitions fo fhocking
to the common fenfe of mankind, and fo contrary to the decifions
of all our intelledlual powers, will open mens eyes, and break
the force, of the prejudice which hath held them entangled in
that theory.

E e CHAP.

2i8 ESSAY ir.

CHAP. XV.

CHAP. XV.

Account of the Syjlem of Li^in'iiiTZ.

THERE is yet another fyflem concerning perception, of which
I (hall give fome account, becaufe of the fame of its author.
It is the invention of the famous German Philofopher Leibnitz,
who, while he lived, held the firfl rank among the Germans in
all parts of philofophy, as well as in mathematics, in jurifpru-
dence, in the knowledge of antiquities, and in every branch, both
of fcience and of literature. He was highly refpedled by empe-
rors, and by many kings and princes, who beftowed upon him
fingular marks of their efteem. He was a particular favourite of
our Queen Caroline, confort of George II. with whom he
continued his correfpondence by letters after llie came to the
Crown of Britain, till his death.

The famous controverfy between him and the Britlfli Mathe-
maticians, whether he or Sir Isaac Newton was the inventor
of that noble improvement in mathematics, called by Newton
the method of fluxions, and by Leibnitz the differential method,
engaged the attention of the Mathematicians in Europe for feveral
years. He had llkewife a controverfy with the learned and ju-
dicious Dr Samuel Clarke, about feveral points of the Newtonian
philofophy which he difapproved. The papers which gave occa-
fion to this controverfy, with all the replies and rejoinders, had
the honour to be tranfmitted from the one party to the other
through the hands of Queen Caroline, and were afterwards
publiflied.

His authority, in all matters of philofophy, is ftill fo great
in moft parts of Germany, that they are considered as bold fpirits,

and

ACCOUNT OF THE SYSTEM OF LEIBNITZ. 219

and a kind of heretics, who difTent from him in any thing. Ca- CHAP. XV.

ROLUS WoLFius, the moft voluminous writer in philofophy of

this age, is confidered as the great interpreter and advocate of the

Leibnitzian fyftem, and reveres as an oracle whatever has dropped

from the pen of Leibnitz. This author propofed two great

works upon the mind. The firft, which I have feen, he pubjifli-

ed with the title of Pfychologia empirica, feu experimentalis. The

other was to have the title of Pfychologia rationa/is, and to it he

refers for his explication of the theory of Leibnitz with regard

to the mind. But whether it was publiftied I have not learned,

I muft therefore take the fhort account I am to give of this
fyftem from the writings of Leibnitz himfelf, without the light
which his interpreter Wolfius may have thrown upon it.

Leibnitz conceived the whole univerfe, bodies as well as
minds, to be made up of monads, that is, fimple fubftances, each
of which is, by the Creator in the beginning of its exiftence, en-
dowed with certain adlive and perceptive powers. A monad,
therefore, is an a(Slive fubftance, fimple, without parts or figure,
which has within itfelf the power to produce all the changes it
undergoes from the beginning of its exiftence to eternity. The
changes which the monad undergoes, of what kind foever, though
they may feem to us the eflfetfl of caufes operating from without,
yet they are only the gradual and fucceffive evolutions of its own
internal powers, which would have produced all the fame changes
and motions, although there had been no other being in the uni-
verfe.

Every human foul is a monad joined to an organifed body,
which organifed body confifts of an infinite number of monads,
each having fome degree of a(5live and of perceptive power in it-
felf. But the whole machine of the body has a relation to that
monad which we call the foul, which is, as it were, the centre of
the whole.

E e 2 As

220 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XV. As the univerfe is completely filled with monads, without any
chafm or void, and thereby every body a&.s upon every other bo-
dy, according to its vicinity or diftance, and is mutually readied
upon by every other body, it follows, fays Leibnitz, that every
monad is a kind of living mirror, which refledls the whole uni-
verfe, according to its point of view, and reprefents the whole
more oi* lefs diftindtly.

I cannot undertake to reconcile this part of the fyflem with
what was before mentioned, to wit, that every change in a monad
is the evolution of its own original powers, and would have hap-
pened though no other fubftance had been created. But to pro-
ceed.

There are different orders of monads, fome higher, and others
lower. The higher orders he calls dominant ; fuch is the human
foul. The monads that compofe the organifed bodies of men,
animals and plants, are of a lower order, and fubfervient to the
dominant monads. But every monad, of W^iatever order, is a
complete fubftance in itfelf, indivifible, havin»- no parts, inde-
ftrudible, becaufe, having no parts, it cannot psvifti by any kind
of decompofition ; it can only perifh by annihilation-, and we have
no reafon to believe that God will ever annihilate any of the be-
ings which he has made.

The monads of a lower order may, by a regular evolution of
their powers, rife to a higher order. They may fucceflively be
joined to organifed bodies, of various forms and different degrees
of perception ; but they never die, nor ceafe to be in fome de-
gree a(5live and percipient.

This Philofopher makes a diftin<5lion between perception and
what he calls apperception. The firft is common to all monads, the
lafl proper to the higher orders, among which are hximan fouls.

- By

ACCOUNT OF THE SYSTEM OF LEIBNITZ. 221

By apperception he underftands that degree of perception
which refleds, as it were, upon itfelf; by which we are confcious
of our own exiflerice, and confcious of our perceptions ; by which
we can reflect upon the operations of our own minds, and can
comprehend abflradl truths. The mind, in many operations, he
thinks, particularly in fleep, and in many adions common to us
with the brutes, has not this apperception, although it is ftill filled
with a multitude of obfcure and indiflind perceptions, of which
we are not confcious.

He conceives that our bodies and minds are united in fuch a
manner, that neither has any phyfical influence upon the other.
Each performs all its operations by its own internal fprings and
powers ; yet the operations of one correfpond exacflly with thofe
of the other, by a pre-eftabliflied harmony ; juft as one clock
may be fo adjufted as to keep time with another, although each
has its own moving power, and neither receives any part of its
motion from the other.

So that according to this fyftem all our perceptions of external
obje<5ls would be the fame, though external things had never ex-
ifted ; our perception of them would continue, although, by the
power of God, they fliould this moment be Annihilated : We do
not perceive external things becaufe they exift, bat becaufe the
foul was originally fo confliituted as to produce in itfelf all its fuc-
ceffive changes, and all its fucceffive perceptions, independently of
the external objeds.

Every perception or appeixeption, every operation, in a word, of
the foul, is a necefl^ary confequence of the flate of it immediately
preceding that operation ; and this (late is the necefl^ary confequence
of the ftate preceding it ; and fo backwards, until you come to its
firft formation and conftitution, which produces fuccefllvely, and
by neceflary confequence, all its fucceflive flates to the end of its
cxifl:ence : So that in this refped the foul, and every monad, may

be

CHAP. XV.

222

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XV, be compared to a watch wound up, which having the fpring of its
motion in itfelf, by the gradual evolution of its own fpring, pro-
duces all the fucceffive motions we obferve in it.

In this account of Leibnitz fyftem concerning monads, and
the pre-eftabliflied harmony, I have kept as nearly as I could to
his own expreflions, in his new fyjlem of the nature and communication
of fubjlances f and of the union of foul and body ; and in the fcveral
illuftrations of that new fyftem which he afterwards publiflied ;
and in his principles of nature and grace founded in reafon, I fhall
now make a few remarks upon this fyftem.

I. To pafs over the irrefiftible neceflity of all human adlions,
which makes a part of this fyftem, that will be confidered in ano-
ther place, I obferve firft, that the diftindlion made between per-
ception and apperception is obfcure and unphilofophical : As far
as we can difcover, every operation of our mind is attended with
confcioufnefs, and particularly that which we call the perception
of external objedls ; and to fpeak of a perception of which we are
not confcious, is to fpeak without any meaning. ^

As confcioufnefs is the only power by which we difcern the ope-
rations of our own minds, or can form any notion of them, an
operation of mind of which we are not confcious, is, we know not
what ; and to call fuch an operation by the name of perception, is
an abufe of language. No man can perceive an obje<5l, without
being confcious that he perceives it. No man can think, without
being confcious that he thinks. What men are not confcious of,
cannot therefore, without impropriety, be called either perception
or thought of any kind. And if we will fuppofe operations of
mind, of which we are not confcious, and give a name to fuch
creatures of our imagination, that name muft fignify what we
know nothing about.

2. To fuppofe bodies organifed or unorganifed, to be made up

of

ACCOUNT OF THE SYSTEM OF LEIBNITZ. 223

of indivifible monads which have no parts, is contrary to all that CHAP XV.

we know of body. It is efTential to a body to have parts ; and

every part of a body, is a body, and has parts alfo. No number

of parts, without exteniion or figure, not even an infinite number,

if we may ufe that expreffion, can, by being put together, make

a whole that has extenfion and figure, which all bodies have.

3. It is contrary to all that we know of bodies, to afcribe to the
monads, of which they are fuppofed to be compounded, percep-
tion and adlive force. If a Philofopher thinks proper to fay, that
a clod of earth both perceives and has adlive force, let him bring
his proofs. But he ought not to expefl, that men who have un-
derflanding, will fo far give it up as to receive without proof what-
ever his imagination may fuggeft.

4. This fyftem overturns all authority of our fenfes, and leaves
not the leaft ground to believe the exiftcnce of the objedls of fenfe,
or the exiftence of any thing which depends upon the authority
of our fenfes ; for our perception of objedls, according to this
fyftem, has no dependence upon any thing external, and would be
the fame as It is, fuppofing external objedls had never exifted, or
that they were from this moment annihilated.

It is remarkable that Leibnitz's fyftem, that of Malebranche,
and the common fyftem of ideas, or images of external objedls in
the mind, do all agree in overturning all the authority of our
fenfes ; and this one thing, as long as men retain their fenfes, will
always make all thefe fyftems truly ridiculous.

5. The lafl: obfervatlon I fhall make upon this fyftem, which
indeed is equally applicable to all the fyftems of perception I have
mentioned, is, that it is all hypothefis, made up of conjectures
and fuppofitlons, without proof. The Peripatetics fuppofed fen-
fible /pecks to be fent forth by the objects of fenfe. The moderns
fuppofe ideas in the brain, or in the mind. Malebranche fup-
pofed,

224

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XV. pofed, that we perceive the ideas of the Divine Mind. Leibnitz
' fuppofed monads and a pre-eftabUlhed harmony ; and thefe monads
being creatures of his own making, he is at liberty to give them
what properties and powers his fancy may fuggeft. In Uke man-
ner, the Indian Philofopher fuppofed that the earth is fupported
by a huge elephant, and that the elephant (lands on the back of
a huge tortoifc.

Such fuppofitions, while there is no proof of them offered, are
nothing but the fidions of human fancy ; and we ought no more
to believe them, than we believe Homer'3 ficflions of Apollo's
filver bow, or Minerva's fhield, or Venus's girdle. Such fic-
tions in poetry are agreeable to the rules of the art : They are in-
tended to pleafe, not to convince. But the Philofophers would
have us to believe their fidlions, though the account they give of
the phaenomena of nature has commonly no more probability than
the account that Homer gives of the plague in the Grecian camp,
from Apollo taking his ftation on a neighbouring mountain, and
from his filver bow, letting fly his fwift arrows into the camp.

Men then only begin to have a true tafte in philofophy, when
they have learned to hold hypothefes in juft contempt ; and to con-
fider them as the reveries of fpeculative men, which will never
have any fimilitude to the works of God.

The Supreme Being has given us fome intelligence of his works,
by what our fenfes inform us of external things, and by what
our confcioufnefs and refledlion inform us concerning the opera-
tions of our own minds. Whatever can be inferred from thefe
common informations, byjufl and found reafoning, is true and le-
gitimate philofophy : But what we add to this from conjedlure is
all fpurious and illegitimate.

After this long account of the theories advanced by Philofophers,
to account for our perception of external objeds, I hope it will ap-

.pear.

ACCOUNT OF THE SYSTEM OF LEIBNITZ. 225

pear, that neither Aristotle's theory of fenfible fpecies, nor CHAP, xv-
Malebranche's, of our feeing things in God, nor the common
theory of our perceiving ideas in our own minds, nor Leibnitz's
theory of monads, and a pre-eftabliflied harmony, give any fa-
tisfying account of this power of the mind, or make it more in-
telUgible than it is without their aid. They are conjedlures, and
if they were true, would folve no difEculty, but raife many new
ones. It is therefore more agreeable to good fenfe, and to found
philofophy, to reft fatisfied with what our confcioufnefs and atten-
tive refle(5lion difcover to us of the nature of perception, than by
inventing hypothefes, to attempt to explain thing* which are above
the reach of human underftanding. I believe no man is able to
explain how we perceive external objeds, any more than how we
are confcious of thofe that are internal. Perception, confciouf^
nefs, memory, and imagination, are all original and fimple powers
of the mind, and parts of its conftitution. For this reafon,
though I have endeavoured to fhow, that the theories of Philofo-
phers on this fubjecfl are ill grounded and infufficient, I do not at-
tempt to fubftitute any other theory in their place.

Every man feels that perception gives him an invincible belief
of the exiftence of that which he perceives ; and that this belief is
not the effedl of reafoning, but the immediate confequence of per-
ception. When Philofophers have wearied themfelves and their
readers with their fpeculations upon this fubjedl, they can neither
ftrengthen this belief, nor weaken it ; nor can they fhow how it
is produced. It puts the Philofopher and the peafant upon a level ;
and neither of them can give any other reafon for believing his
fenfes, than that he finds it impofhble for him to do otherwife.

F f CHAP.

226 E S S A Y II.

CHAP XVI
» ,- '

CHAP. XVI.
Of Senfatiotu

HAVING finifhed what I intend, with regard to that adl of
mind which we call the perception of an external objecSl, I
proceed to confider another, which, by our conftitution, is con-
joined with perception, and not with perception only, but with
many other adls of our minds ; and that is fenfation. To prevent
repetition, I muft refer the reader to the explication of this word
given in EfTay I. chap. i.

Almoft all our perceptions have correfponding fenfations which
conftantly accompany them, and, on that account, are very apt
to be confounded with them. Neither ought we to expe<5l, that
the fenfation, and its correfponding perception, fhould be diftin-
guifhed in common language, becaufe the purpofes of common
life do not require it. Language is made to ferve the purpofes of
ordinary converfktion ; and we have no reafon to expecfl that it
fliould make diftindlions that are not of common ufe. Hence it
happens, that a quality perceived, and the fenfation correfponding
to that perception, often go under the fame name.

This makes the names of mofl: of our fenfations ambiguous,
and this ambiguity hath very much perplexed Philofophers. It
will be neceffary to give fome inftances, to illuftrate the diftindlon
between our fenfations and the objedls of perception.

When I fmell a rofe, there is in this operation both fenfation
and perception. The agreeable odour I feel, confidered by itfelf,
without relation to any external objedl, is merely a fenfation. It
ajfifedls the mind in a certain way j and this affe<5tion of the mind

may

O F S E N S A T I O N. 227

may be conceived, without a thought of the rofe, or any other CHAP.XVI.
objedl;. This fenfation can be nothing elfe than it is felt to be. Its
very elTence confifts in being felt ; and when it is not felt, it is not.
There is no difference between the fenfation and the feeling of it; .
they are one and the fame thing. It is for this reafon, that we be-
fore obferved, that, in fenfation, there is no objed diftind from
that adl of the mind by which it is felt ; and this holds true with
regard to all fenfations.

Let us next attend to the perception which we have in fmelling .
a rofe. Perception has always an external objedl ; and the objed
of my perception, in this cafe, is that quality in the rofe which I
difcern by the fenfe of fmell. Obferving that the agreeable fenfa-
tion is raifed when the rofe is near, and ceafes when it is removed,
I am led, by my nature, to conclude fome quality to be in the
rofe, which is the caufe of this fenfation. This quality in the
rofe is the objedt perceived ; and that ad of my mind, by which
I have the convidion and belief of this quality, is what in this
cafe I call perception.

But it is here to be obferved, that the fenfation I feel, and the
quality in the rofe which I perceive, are both called by the fame
name. The fmell of a rofe is the name given to both : So that
this name hath two meanings ; and the diftinguifhing its different
meanings removes all perplexity, and enables us to give clear and
diftind anfwers to queflions, about which Philofophers have held
much difpute.

Thus, if it is afked, Whether the fmell be in the rofe, or in the
mind that feels it ? The anfwer is obvious : That there are two
different things fignified by the fmell of a rofe ; one of which is
in the mind, and can be in nothing but in a fentient being ; the
other is truly and properly in the rofe. The fenfation which I feel
is in my mind. The mind is the fentient being ; and as the rofe
is infentient, there can be no fenfation, nor any thing rcfembllng

F f 2 fenfation

228 ESSAY IT.

CHAP. XVI fenfatlon in it. But this Tenfation in my mind is occafioned by a
certain quality in the rofe, which is called by the fame name with
the fenfation, not on account of any fimilitude, but becaufe of
their conftant concomitancy.

All the names we have for fmells, taftes, founds, and for the va-
rious degrees of heat and cold, have a like ambiguity ; and what
has been faid of the fmell of a rofe may be applied to them. They
fignify both a fenfation, and a quality perceived by means of that
fenfation. The firfl; is the fign, the laft the thing fignified. As
both are conjoined by nature, and as the purpofes of common life
do not require them to be disjoined in our thoughts, they are both
expreffed by the fame name : And this ambiguity is to be found
in all languages, becaufe the reafon of it extends to all.

The fame ambiguity is found in the names of fuch difeafcs as
are indicated by a particular painful fenfation : Such as the tooth-
ach, the headach. The toothach fignifies a painful fenfation,
which can only be in a fentient being ; but it fignifies alfo a dif-
order in the body, which has no fimilitude to a fenfation, but is
naturally connedled with it.

PrefTing my hand with force againft the table, I feel pain, and
I feel the table to be hard. The pain is a fenfation of the mind,
and there is nothing that refembles it in the table. The hardnefs
is in the table, nor is there any thing refembling it in the mind.
Feeling is applied to both ; but in a different fenfe ; being a word
common to the acSl of fenfation, and to that of perceiving by the
fenfe of touch.

I touch the table gently with my hand, and I feel it to be
fmooth, hard, and cold. Thefe are qualities of the table per-
ceived by touch ; but I perceive them by means of a fenfation
which indicates them. This fenfation not being painful, I com-
monly give no attention to it. It carries my thought immediately

to

O F S E N S A T I O N. 229

to the thing fignified by it, and is itfelf forgot, as if it had CHAP.XVI.
never been. But by repeating it, and turning my attention to it,
and abftrading my thought from the thing fignified by it, I find
it to be merely a fenfation, and that it has no fimiUtude to the
hardnefs, fmoothnefs, or coldnefs of the table which are fignified
by it.

It is indeed difficult, at firfl, to disjoin things in our attention
which have always been conjoined, and to make that an objedl of
reflexion which never was fo before ; but fome pains and prac-
tice will overcome this difficulty in thofe who have got the habit
of refle(5ling on the operations of their own minds.

Although the prefent fubjedl leads us only to confider the fen-
fa tions which we have by means of our external fenfes, yet it will
ferve to illuftrate what has been faid, and I apprehend is of im-
portance in itfelf to obferve, that many operations of mind, to
which we give one name, and which we always confider as one
thing, are complex in their nature, and made up of feveral more
fimple ingredients ; and of thefe ingredients fenfation very often
makes one. Of this we fhall give fome inftances.

The appetite of hunger includes an uneafy fenfation, and a de-
fire of food. Senfation and defire are diflferent ads of mind.
The laft, from its nature, muft have an objedl j the firft has no
obje(5l. Thefe two ingredients may always be feparated in thought ;
perhaps they fometimes are, in reality ; but hunger includes
both.

Benevolence towards our fellow-creatures includes an agreeable
feeling ; but it includes alfo a defire of the happinefs of others.
The ancients commonly called it defire : Many moderns chufe
rather to call it a feeling. Both are right ; and they only err
who exclude either of the ingredients. Whether thefe two ingre-
dients are neceflarily connedled, is perhaps difficult for us to de-
termine,

13©

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XVI.. ter mine, there being many neceflary connedtions which we do
not perceive to be neceflary ; but we can disjoin them in thought.
They are different ads of the mind.

An uneafy feeUng, and a defire, are in Hke manner the ingre-
dients of malevolent affedlions ; fuch as malice, envy, revenge.
The paflion of fear includes an uneafy fenfation or feeling, and
an opinion of danger ; and hope is made up of the contrary in-
gredients. When we hear of a heroic adlion, the fentiment which
it raifes in our mind is made up of various ingredients. There is
in it an agreeable feeling, a benevolent affedlion to the perfon, and
a judgment or opinion of his merit.

If we thus analyfe the various operations of our minds, we
Ihall find, that many of them which we confider as perfedly
fimple, becaufe we have been accuftomed to call them by one
name, are compounded of more fimple ingredients ; and that fen-
fation, or feeling which is only a more refined kind of fenfation,
makes one ingredient, not only in the perception of external ob-
je(fls, but in moft operations of the mind.

A fmall degree of refle6lion may fatisfy us that the number
and variety of Our fenfations and feelings is prodigious : For, to
omit all thofe which accompany our appetites, paffions, and af-
fedlions, our moral fentiments, and fentiments of talle, even our
external fenfes furnifh a great variety of fenfations differing in
kind, and almoft in every kind an endlefs variety of degrees.
Every variety we difcern, with regard to tafte, fmell, found, co-
lour, heat and cold, and in the tangible qualities of bodies, is indi-
cated by a fenfation correfponding to it^

The moft general and the moft important divifion of our fenfa-
tions and feelings, is into the agreeable, the difagreeable, and the
indifferent. Every thing we call pleafure, happinefs, or enjovment,
on the one hand ; and on the other, every thing we call mifery,

pain,

O F S E N S A T I O N. 231

pain, or uneafinefs. Is fenfation or feeling: For no man can for ^HAF.XVI.
the prefenc be more happy, or more miferable than he feels him-
felf to be. He cannot be deceived with regard to the enjoyment
or fuffering of the prefent moment.

But I apprehend, that befides the fenfations that are either
agreeable or difagrecable, there is ftill a greater number that are
indifferent. To thefe we give fo little attention that they have no
name, and are immediately forgot as if they had never been ; and
it requires attention to the operations of our minds to be convin-
ced of their exiftence.

For this end we may obferve, that to a good ear every human
voice is diftinguifhable from all others. Some voices are pleafant,
fome difagrecable ; but the far greater part can neither be faid to
be one or the other. The fame thing may be faid of other founds,
and no lefs of taftes, fmells, and colours ; and if we confider that
our fenfes are in continual exercife while we are awake, that fome
fenfation attends every objedl they prefent to us, and that familiar
obje6ls feldom raife any emotion pleafant or painful ; we fhall fee
reafon, befides the agreeable and difagrecable, to admit a third
clafs of fenfations that may be called indifferent.

The fenfations that are indifferent, are far from being ufelefs.
They ferve as figns to diftinguifh things that differ ; and the in-
formation we have concerning things external, comes by their
means. Thus, if a man had no ear to receive pleafure from the
harmony or melody of founds, he would flill find the fenfe of
hearing of great utility : Though founds give him neither pleafure
nor pain of themfelves, they would give him much ufeful infor-
mation ; and the like may be faid of the fenfations we have by all
the other fenfes.

As to the fenfations and feelings that are agreeable or difagrec-
able, they differ much not only in degree, but in kind and in dig-
nity.

232 ESSAY II.

CHAP.X\y_ nity. Some belong to the animal part of our nature, and are
common to us with the brutes : Others belong to the rational and
moral part. The firft are more properly called fenfations^ the laft
feelings. The French -word fentimeiit is common to both.

The intention of Nature in them is for the moll: part obvious,
and well deferving our notice. It has been beautifully illuflrated
by a very elegant French writer, in his I'heor'ie des fentiments agreables.

The author of Nature, in the diftribution of agreeable and pain-
ful feelings, hath wifely and benevolently confulted the good of
the human fpecies, and hath even Ihown us, by the fame means,
what tenor of condud we ought to hold. For, firji^ The painful
fenfations of the animal kind are admonitions to avoid what would
hurt us ; and the agreeable fenfations of this kind, invite as- to
thofe adlions that are neceffary to the prefervation of the indivi-
dual, or of the kind. Secondly^ By the fame means nature invites
us to moderate bodily exercife, and admonifhes us to avoid idlenefs
. and ina(5livity on the one hand, and exceflive labour and fatigue
on the other. 'Thirdly^ The moderate exercife of all our rational
powers gives pleafure. Fourthly, Every fpecies of beauty is beheld
with pleafure, and every fpecies of deformity with diiguft ; and
we fhall find all that we call beautiful, to be fomething eftimable
or ufeful in itfelf, or a fign of fomething that is eftimable or ufeful.
Fifthly, The benevolent afFe(5lions are all accompanied with an
agreeable feeling, the malevolent with the contrary. And, fixthly.
The higheft, the nobleft, and moft durable pleafure, is that of do-
ing well, and adling the part that becomes us ; and the moft bitter
and painful fentiment, the anguifli and remorfe of a guilty con-
fcience. Thefe obfervations, with regard to the oeconomy of Na-
ture in the diftribution of our painful and agreeable fenfations and
feelings, are illuftrated by the author laft mentioned, fo elegantly
and judicioufly, that I fhall not attempt to fay any thing upon
them after him.

I fliall

O F S E N S A T I O N. 233

I fhall conclude this chapter by obferving, that as the confound- CHAP, xvi.
ing our fenfations with that perception of external objedls, which
is conftantly conjoined with them, has been the occafion of rnoft
of the errors and falfe theories of Philofophers with regard to the
fenfes ; fo the diftinguilhing thefe operations feems to rue to be
the key that leads to a right underftanding of both.

Senfation, taken by itfelf, implies neither the conception nor
belief of any external objedl. It fuppofes a fentient being, and a
certain manner in which that being is affecled, but it fuppofes no
more. Perception implies an immediate convidlion and belief of
fomething external ; fomething different both from the mind that
perceives, and from the a(5l of perception. Things fo different
in their nature ought to be diflinguilhed ; but by our conftitution
they are always united. Every different perception is conjoined
with a fenfation that is proper to it. The one is the lign, the other
the thing lignified. They coalefce in our imagination. They are
fignified by one name, and are confidered as one fimple operation.
The purpofes of life do not require theni to Be diftinguiflied.

It is the Philofopher alone who has occafion to diflinguifli them,
when he would analyfe the operation compounded of them. But
he has no fufpicion that there is any compofition in it ; and to dif-
cover this requires a degree of refledion which has been too little
pradlifed even by Philofophers,

In the old philofophy, fenfation and perception were perfedily
confounded. The fenfible fpecies coming from the object, and
impreffed upon the mind, was the whole ; and you might call it
fenfation or perception as you pleafed.

Des Cartes and Locke, attending more to the operations of
their own minds, fay. That the fenfations by which we have no-
tice of fecondary qualities, have no refemblance to any thing that
pertains to body j but they did not fee that this might with equal

G g juftice

334 E S S A Y II.

CHAP, XVI. juflice be applied to the primary qualities. Mr Locke maintains,
that the fenfations we have from primary qualities are refemblances
of thofe qualities. This Ihows how grofsly the mofl ingenious
meji may err with regard to the operations of their minds. It
mufl; indeed be acknowledged, that it is much eafier to have a di-
ftindl notion of the fenfations that belong to fecondary, than of
thofe that belong to the primary qualities. The reafon of this will
appear in the next chapter.

But had Mr Locke attended with fufficlent accuracy to the fen-
fations which he was every day and every hour receiving from
primary qualities, he would have feen that they can as little re-
ferable any quality of an inanimated being, as pain can referable
a cube or a circle.

"What had efcaped this ingenious Philofopher, was clearly dif-
earned by Bifliop Berkeley. He had a juft notion of fenfations,
and faw that it was impoffible that any thing in an infentient be-
ing could referable them ; a thing fo evident in itfclf, that it feems
wonderful that it fhould have been fo long unknown.

But let us attend to the confequence of this difcovery. Philo-
fophers, as well as the vulgar, had been accuftomed to comprehend
both fenfation and perception under one name, and to confider
them as one uncompounded operation. Philofophers, even more
than the vulgar, gave the name of fenfation to the whole operation
of the fenfes ; and all the notions we have of material things were
called ideas of fenfation. This led Billiop Berkeley to take one
ingredient of a complex operation for the whole ; and having
clearly difcovered the nature of fenfation, taking it for granted
that all that the fenfes prefent to the mind is fenfation, which can
have no refemblance to any thing material, he concluded that
there is no material world.

If the fenfes furnifhed us with no materials of thought but fen-
fations,

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 335

fatlons, his conclufion muft be juft ; for no fenfation can give us CHAP.xvii.
the conception of material things, far lefs any argument to prove
their exiflence. But if it is true that by our fenfes we have not
only a variety of fenfations, but likewife a conception, and an
immediate natural conviclion of external objects, he reafons from
a falfe fuppofition, and his arguments fall to the ground.

CHAP. XVII.
Of the Obje&s of Perception ; andfrjl^ Of primary andfecondary S^alit'ies.

THE objedls of perception are the various qualities of bodies.
Intending to treat of thefe only in general, and chiefly vpith
a view to explain the notions which our fenfes give us of them,
I begin with the di(lin<5lion between primary and fecondary qua-
lities. Thefe were diflinguilhed very early. The Peripatetic fyftem
confounded them, and left no difference. The diftindlion was
again revived by Des Cartes and Locke, and a fecond time
aboliflied by Berkeley and Hume. If the real foundation of this
diftindlion can be pointed out, it will enable us to account for the
various revolutions in the fentiments of Philofophers concerning it.

Every one knows that extenfion, divifibility, figure, motion, fo-
lidity, hardnefs, foftnefs, and fluidity, were by Mr Locke called
primary qualities of body ; and that found, colour, tafte, fniell, and
heat or cold, were z^Wtdi fecondary qualities. Is there a juft founda-
tion for this diftindlion ? Is there any thing common to the pri-
mary which belongs not to the fecondary ? And what is it ?

I anfwer. That there appears to me to be a real foundation for
the diftindlion ; and it is this : That our fenfes give us a diredl
and a diftindl notion of the primary qualities, and inform us what
they are in themfelves : But of the fecondary qualities, our fenfes

G g 2 give

C36 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XVII. give us only a relative and obfcure notion. They inform us only,
that they are qualities that affe<5l us in a certain manner, that is,
produce in us a certain fenfation ; but as to what they are in them-
felves, our fenfes leave us in the dark-

Every man capable of refledlion may eafily fatisfy himfelf, that
he has a perfedly clear and diftincft notion of extenfion, divifibility,
figure, and motion. The folidity of a body means no more, but
that it excludes other bodies from occupying the fame place at the
fame time. Hardnefs, foftnefs, and fluidity, are different degrees
of cohefion in the parts of a body. It is fluid, when it has no
fenfible cohefion ; foft when the cohefion is weak ; and hard when
it is ftrong : Of the caufe of this cohefion we are ignorant, but the
thing itfelf we underfland perfe<5lly, being immediately informed
of it by the fenfe of touch. It is evident, therefore, that of the
primary qualities we have a clear and diftin(5l notion ; we know
what they are, though we may be ignorant of their caufes.

I obferved farther, that the notion we have of primary qualities
is direcfl, and not relative only. A relative notion of a thing, is,
ftridlly fpeaking, no notion of the thing at all., but only of fome
relation which it bears to fomething elfe.

Thus gravity fometimes fignifies the tendency of bodies towards
the earth ; fometimes it fignifies the caufe of that tendency : When
it means the firft, I have a diredl and diftindl notion of gravity ;
I fee it, and feel it, and know perfedly what it is ; but this ten-
dency muft have a caufe : We give the fame name to the caufe ;
and that caufe has been an objedl of thought and of fpeculation.
Now what notion have we of this caufe when we think and reafon
about it? It is evident, we think of it as an unknown caufe, of a
known effcjft. This is a relative notion, and it muft be obfcure,
becaufe it gives us no conception of what the thing is, but of what
relation it bears to fomething elfe. Every relation which a thing
unknown bears to fomething that is known, may give a relative

notion

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 237

notion of it; and there are many objeds of thought, and of dif- CHAP.XVir.

courfe, of which our faculties can give no better than a relative

notion.

Having premifed thefe things to explain what is meant by a re-
lative notion, it is evident, that our notion of primary qualities is
not of this kind ; we know what they are, and not barely what
relation they bear to fomething elfe.

It is otherwife with fecondary qualities. If you alk me, what
is that quality or modification in a rofe which I call its fmell, I
am at a lofs to anfwer diredly. Upon reflexion I find, that I have
a diflin(5l notion of the fenfation which it produces in my mind.
But there can be nothing like to this fenfation in the rofe, becaufe
it is infentient. The quality in the rofe is fomething which occa-
fions the fenfation in me j but what that fomething is, I know
not. My fenfes give me no information upon this point. The
only notion therefore my fenfes give is this, That fmell in the rofe
is an unknown quality or modificationj which is the caufe or oc-
cafion of a fenfation which I know well. The relation which this
unknown quality bears to the fenfation with which nature hath
connedied it, is all I learn from the fenfe of fmelling ; but this is
evidently a relative notion. The fame reafoning will apply to
every fecondary quality.

Thus I think it appears, that there is a real foundation for the
diftindtion of primary from fecondary qualities ; and that they are
diftinguifhed by this, that of the primary we have by our fenfes a
dire<5l and diftin<5l notion; but of the fecondary only a relative
notion, which mull, becaufe it is only relative, be obfcure ; they
are conceived only as the unknown caufcs or occafions of certain
fenfations with which we are well acquainted.

The account I have given of this diftiniflion is founded upon
no hypothefis. Whether our notions of primary qualities are diredl

and

238 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XVII. and dlftin(fl, thofe of the fecondary relative and obfcure, is a mat-
ter of fadl, of which every man may have certain knovpledge by
attentive reflection upon them. To this reflecflion 1 appeal, as the
proper teft of what has been advanced, and proceed to make fome
refle<5lions on this fubjedt.

1. The primary qualities are neither fenfations, nor are they re-
femblances of fenfations. This appears to me felf-evident. I have
a clear and diftindl notion of each of the primary qualities. I have
a clear and diftin(5l notion of fenfation. I can compare the one
with the other ; and when I do fo, I am not able to difcern a re-
fembling feature. Senfation is the adl, or the feeling, (I difpute not
which) of a fentient being. Figure, divifibility, folidity, are nei-
ther a«5ls nor feelings. Senfation fuppofes a fentient being as its
fubjecH: ; for a fenfation that is not felt by fome fentient being, is
an abfurdity. Figure and divifibility fuppofes a fubjecfl that is
figured and divifible, but not a fubjedl that is fentient.

2. We have no reafoh to think that any of the fecondary qua-
lities refemble any fenfation. The abfurdity of this notion has

.been clearly fliown by Des Cartes, Locke, and many modern
Philofophers. It was a tenet of the ancient philofophy, and is
flill by many imputed to the vulgar, but only as a vulgar error.
It is too evident to need proof, that the vibrations of a founding
body do not refemble the fenfation of found, nor the effluvia of
an odorous body the fenfation of fmell.

3. The diftin{n:nefs of our notions of primary qualities prevents
all queftions and difputes about their nature. There are no diffe-
rent opinions about the nature of extenfion, figure, or motion, or
the nature of any primary quality. Their nature is manifeft to
our fenfes, and cannot be unknown to any man, or miflaken by
him, though their caufes may admit of dilpute.

The primary qualities are the objecl of the mathematical fci-

ences ;

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 239

ences : and the diftindlnefs of our notions of them enables us to CHAP. xvii.
reafon demonftratively about them to a great extent. Their va-
rious' modifications are precifely defined in the imagination, and
thereby capable of being compared, and their relations determi-
ned with precifion and certainty.

It is not fo with fecondary qualities. Their nature not being
manifeft to the fenfe, may be a fubje(5t of difpute. Our feeling
informs us that the fire is hot ; but it does not inform us what
that heat of the fire is. But does it not appear a contradidion,
to fay we know tl;^at the fire is hot, but we know not what that
heat is ? I anfwer. There is the fame appearance of contradi(5lion
in many things, that muft be granted. We know that wine has
an inebriating quality ; but we know not what that quality is.
It is true, indeed, that if we had not fome notion of what is
meant by the heat of fire, and by an inebriating quality, we could
affirm nothing of either with underftanding. We have a notion
of both ; but it is only a relative notion. We know that they
are the caufes of certain known effedls.

■i'fjod' 3»l!

4. The nature of fecondary qualities is a proper fubjecfl: of ^hy
lofophical difquifition ; and in this philofophy has made fome
progrefs. It has been difcovered, that the fenfation of fmell is
occafioned by the effluvia of bodies ; that of found by their vi-
bration. The difpofition of bodies to refle(^ a particular kind of
light occafions the fenfation of colour. Very curious difcoveries

have been made of the nature of heat, and an ample field of dif- s

covery in thefe fubjeds remains.

5. We may fee why the fenfations belonging. to fecondary qua-
lities are an objecfl of our attention, while thofe which belong to
the primary are not.

The firll are not only figns of the obje<5l perceived, but they bear
a capital part in the notion we form of it. We conceive it only as

that

240 £ S S A Y II.

CHAP. XVII tiiat which occafions fuch a fenfatlon, and therefore cannot refledl
upon it without thinking of the fenfation which it occafions : We
have no other mark whereby to diftinguifli it. The thought of a
fecondary quaUty, therefore, always carries us back to the fenfation
which it produces. We give the fame name to both, and are apt
to confound them together.

But having a clear and diftindl conception of primary qualities,
we have no need when we think of them to recal their fenfations.
When a primary quality is perceived, the fenfation immediately
leads our thought to the quality fignified by it, and is itfelf forgot.
We have no occafion afterwards to refledl uplon it; and fo wc
come to be as little acquainted with it, as if we had never felt it.
This is the cafe with the fenfations of all primary qualities, when
they are not fo painful or pleafant as to draw our attention.

When a man moves his hand rudely againft a pointed hard
body, he feels pain, and may eafily be perfuaded that this pain is
a fenfation, and that there is nothing refembling it in the hard
body; at the fame time he perceives the body to be hard and
pointed, and he knows that thefe qualities belong to the body on-
ly. In this cafe, it is eafy to diftinguifli what he feels from what
he perceives.

Let him again touch the pointed body gently, fo as to give him
no pain ; and now you can hardly perfuade him that he feels any
thing but the figure and hardnefs of the body ; fo difficult it is to
attend to the fenfations belonging to primary qualities, when they
are neither pleafant nor painful. They carry the thought to the
external objecfl, and immediately difappear and are forgot. Nature
intended them only as figns ; and when they have ferved that pur-
pofe they vanifli.

We are now to confider the opinions both of the vulgar, and of
Philofophers upon this fubjedl. As to the former, it is not to be

expedled

■;i

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 241

txpedted that they fhould make diftindions v/hich have no con- chap, xvil.
nedion with the common affairs of life ; they do not therefore di-
flinguifli the primary from the fecondary quahties, but fpeak of
both as being equally qualities of the external objedl. Of the pri-
mary qualities they have a diflindl notion, as they are immediately
and diftindlly perceived by the fenfes ; of the fecondary, their no-
tions, as I apprehend, are confufed and indiftinft, rather than er-
roneous. A fecondary quality is the unknown caufe or occafion
of a well known effedl; and the fame name is common to the
caufe and the effedl. Now, to diftinguilh clearly the different in-
gredients of a complex notion, and, at the fame time, the different
meanings of an ambiguous word, is the work of a Philofopher ;
and is not to be expedled of the vulgar, when their occafions do
not require it.

I grant, therefore, that the notion which the vulgar have of fe-
condary qualities, is indiftinct and inaccurate. But there feems to
be a contradi(5lion between the vulgar and the Philofopher upon
this fubjetfl, and each charges the other with a grofs abfurdity.
The vulgar fay. That fire is hot, and fnow cold, and fugar fweet ;
and that to deny this is a grofs abfurdity, and contradidls the tefli-
mony of our fenfes. The Philofopher fays, That heat, and cold,
and fweetnefs, are nothing but fenfations in our minds ; and it is
abfurd to conceive, that thefe fenfations are in the fire, or in the
fnow, or in the fugar.

I believe this contradi6lion between the vulgar and the Philofo-
pher is more apparent than real ; and that it is owing to an abufe
of language on the part of the Philofopher, and to indiflindl no-
tions on the part of the vulgar. The Philofopher fays, There is no
heat in the fire, meaning, that the fire has not the fenfation of
heat. His meaning is juft ; and the vulgar will agree with him,
as foon as they underfland his meaning : But his language is im-
proper ; for there is really a quality in the fire, of which the pro-
per name is heat ; and the name of heat is given to this quality,

H h both

242

ESSAY n.

CHAP. XVII. both by Philofophers and by the vulgar, much more frequently
than.. 10 the fenfation of heat. This fpeech of the Philofopher,
therefore, is meant by him in one fenfe ; it is taken by the vulgar
in another fenfe. In the fenfe in which they take it, it is indeed
abfurd, and fo they hold it to be. In the fenfe in which he means
it, it is true ; and the vulgar, as foon as they are made to under-
ftand that fenfe, will acknowledge it to be true. They know as
well as the Philofopher, that the fire does not feel heat ; and this
is all that he means by faying there is no heat in the fire.

In the opinions of Philofophers about primary and fecondary
qualities, there have been, as was before obferved, feveral revolu-
tions : They were diftinguifhed long before the days of Aristotle,
by the fed called Atomifts ; among whom Democritus made a
capital figure. In thofe times, the name of quality was applied only
to thofe we call fecondary qualities ; the primary being confidered
as effential to matter, were not called qualities. That the atoms,
■which they held to be the firft principles of things, were extended,
folid, figured, and moveable, there was no doubt ; bui* the que-
ftion was, whether they had fmell, tafle, and colour ? or, as it was
commonly exprefTed, whether they had qualities ? The Atomifts
maintained, that they had not ; that the qualities were not in bo-
dies, but were fomething refuUing from the operation of bodies
upon our fenfes.

It w^ould feem, that when men began to fpeculate upon this
fubjedt, the primary qualities appeared fo clear and manifeft, that
they could entertain no doubt of their exiftence wherever matter
exifted ; but the fecondary fo obfcure, that they were at a lofs
•where to place them. They ufed this companfon ; as fire, which
is neither in the flint nor in the fteel, is produced by their colli-
fion, fo thofe qualities, though not in bodies, are produced by their
impulfe upon our fenfes.

This do£lrine was oppofed by Aristotle. He believed tafte

and

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 243

and colour to be fubftantial forms of bodies, and that their fpecies, ^'^aP- X vir.
as well as thofe of figure and motion, are received by the ferfTes.

In believing, that what we commonly call tajle and colour^ is
fomething really inherent in body, and does not depend upon its
being tafted and feen, he followed nature. But, in believing that
our fenfations of tafte and colour are the forms or fpecies of thofe
qualities received by the fenfes, he followed his own theory, which
was an abfurd fidion. Des Cartes not only Ihowed the abfur-
dity of fenfible fpecies received by the fenfes, but gave a more juft
and more intelligible account of fecondary qualities than had been
given before. Mr Locke followed him, and bellowed much pains
upon this fubje6l. He was the firft, I think, that gave them the
name of fecondary qualities, which has been very generally adopt-
ed. He diftinguifhed the fenfation from the quality in the body,
which is the caufe or occalion of that fenfation, and (howed that
there neither is nor can be any fimilitude between them.

By this account, the fenfes are acquitted of putting any fallacy
upon us ; the fenfation is real, and no fallacy ; the quality in the
body, which is the caufe or occafion of this fenfation, is likewife
real, though the nature of it is not manifeft to our fenfes. If we
impofe upon ourfelves, by confounding the fenfation with the qua-
lity that occafions it, this is owing to ralh judgment, or weak uii-
derftanding, but not to any falfe teftimony of our fenfes.

This account of fecondary qualities I take to be very juft ; and,
if Mr Locke had flopped here, he would have left the matter very
clear. But he thought it necefTary to introduce the theory of ideas,
to explain the diftindtion between primary and fecondary qualities,
and by that means, as I think, perplexed and darkened it.

When Philofophers fpeak about ideas, we are often at a lofs to
know what they mean by them, and may be ape to fufpedl that
they are mere fidlions, that have no exiltence. They have told us,

H h 2 that.

244 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XVII. that by the ideas which we have immediately from pur fenfes,
"^ thejHinean our fenfations. Thefe, indeed, are real things, and not

fidions. We may, by accurate attention to them, know perfedly
their nature ; and if Philofophers would keep by this meaning of
the word ii/ea, when applied to the objeds of fenfe, they would at
lead be more intelligible. Let us hear how Mr Locke explains
the nature of thofe ideas, when applied to primary and fecondary
qualities, Book 2. chap. 8. fedl. 7. loth edition. " To difcover
" the nature of our ideas the better, and to difcourfe of them
" intelligibly, it will be convenient to diftinguifli them, as they
" are ideas, or perceptions in our minds, and as they are modifi-
" cations of matter in the bodies that caufe fueli perceptions in us,
*• that fo we may not think (as perhaps ufually is done), that they
** are exadlly the images and refemblances of fomething inherent
" in the fubjedl ; mod of thofe of fenfation being, in the mind,
" no more the likenefs of fomething exifting without us, than the
" names that ftand for them are the likenefs of our ideas, which
" yet, upon hearing, they are apt to excite in us."

•

This way of diftinguifliing a thing, ^fr/?, as what it is ; a.nd, Je-
condly^ as what it is not, is, I apprehend, a very extraordinary way
of difcovering its nature : And if ideas are ideas or perceptions in
our minds, and at the fame time the modifications of matter in
the bodies that caufe fuch perceptions in us, it will be no cafy
matter to difcourfe of them intelligibly.

The difcovery of the nature of ideas is carried on in the next fec-
tion, in a manner no lefs extraordinary. " Whatfoever the mind
*' perceives in itfelf, or is the immediate objecft of perception,
" thought, or underftanding, that I call idea; and the power to
** produce any idea in our mind, I call quality of the fubjedl
" wherein that power is. Thus a fnowball having the power
" to produce in us the ideas of white, cold, and round, the powers
" to produce thofe ideas in us, as they are in the fnowball, I call
" qualities; and as they are fenfations, or perceptions in our-

" underflandings,

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 245

" underftandlngs, I call them ideas ; which ideas, if I fpeak of CHAP.XVII.
" them fometimes as in the things themfelves, I would be under-
** flood to mean thofe qualities in the objedl* which produce them
« in us."

Thefe are the diflinclions which Mr Locke thought convenient,
in order to difcover the nature of our ideas of the qualities of mat-
ter the better, and to difcourfe of them intelligibly. I believe it
will be difficult to find two other paragraphs in the Eflay fo
unintelligible. Whether this is to be imputed to the intradlable
nature of ideas, or to an ofcitancy of the author, with which he
is very rarely chargeable, I leave the reader to judge. There are,
indeed, feveral other paflages in the fame chapter, in which a like
obfcurity appears ; but I do not chufe to dwell upon them. The
conclufion drawn by him from the whole, is, that primary and fe-
condary qualities are diftinguifhed by this, that the ideas of the
former are refemblances or copies of them ; but the ideas of the
other are not refemblances of them. Upon this do(5lrine, I beg
leave to make two obfervations.

i^f'r/?, Taking it for granted, that, by the ideas of primary and
fecondary qualities, he means the fenfations they excite in us, I
obferve that it appears ftrange, that a fenfation fhould be the idea
of a quality in body, to which it is acknowledged to bear no re-
femblance. If the fenfation of found be the idea of that vibra-
tion of the founding body which occafions it, a furfeit may, for
the fame reafon, be the idea of a feaft.

A fecond obfervation is, That, when Mr Locke affirms, that
the ideas of primary qualities, that is, the fenfations they raife in
us, are refemblances of thofe qualities, he feems neither to have
given due attention to thofe fenfations, nor to the nature of fenfa-
tion in general.

Let a man prefs his hand againfl a hard body, and let him at-
tend

246 E S S A Y 11.

CHAP. XVU, t^nd to the fenlation he feels, excluding from his thought every
thing external, even the body that is the caufe of his feeling. This
abftracflion indeed is. difficult, and feems to have been little, if at
all, praclifed : But it is not impoffible, and it is evidently the on-
ly way to underftand the nature of the fenfation. A due atten-
tion to this fenfation will fatisfy him, that it is no more like hard-
nefs in a body, than the fenfation of found is like vibration in
the founding body.

I know of no ideas but my conceptions ; and my idea of hard-
nefs in a body, is the conception of fuch a cohefion of its parts as
requires great force to difplace them. I have both the conception
and belief of this quality in the body, at the fame time that I have
the fenfation of pain, by preffing my hand againft it. The fenfa-
tion and perception are clofely conjoined by my conflitution ; but
I am fure they have no fimilitude : I know no reafon why the one
fliould be called the idea of the other, which does not lead us to
call every natural effed the idea of its caufe.

Neither did Mr Locke give due attention to the nature of fen-
fation in general, when he affirmed, that the ideas of primary qua-
lities, that is, the fenfations excited by them, are refemblances of
thofe qualities.

That there can be nothing like fenfation in an infentient being,
or like thought in an unthinking being, is felf-evident, and has
been ihown, to the convidlion of all men that think, by Bilhop
Berkeley ; yet this was unknown to Mr Locke. It is an hum-
bling confideration, that, in fubjeds of this kind, felf-evident
truths may be hid from the eyes of the moft ingenious men. But
we have, withal, this confolation, that, when once difcovered,
they fliine by their own light ; and that light can no more be put
out.

Upon the whole, Mr Locke, in making fecondary qualities to

be

OF THE OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 247

be powers in bodies to excite certain fenfations in us, has given a CHAP. XVIL
juft and diftin(5l analyfis of what our fenfes dlfcover concerning
them ; but, in applying the theory of ideas to them, and to the
primary qualities, he has been led to fay things that darken the
l"ubje<5l, and that will not bear examination.

Bifhop Berkeley having adopted the fentiments common to
Philofophers, concerning the ideas we have by our fenfes, to wit,
that they are all fenfations, faw more clearly the neceflary confe-
quence of this dodlrine; which is, that there is no material world;
no qualities primary or fecondary ; and, confequently, no founda-
tion for any didiniflion between them. He expofed the abfurdity
of a refemblance between our fenfations and any quality, primary
or fecondary, of a fubftance that is fuppofed to be infentient. In-
deed, if it is granted that the fenfes have no other office but to fur-
niQi us with fenfations, it will be found impoffible to make any
diftin<5lion between primary and fecondary qualities, or even to
maintain the exillence of a material world.

From the account I have given of the various revolutions in the
opinions of Philofophers about primary and fecondary qualities, I
think it appears, that all the darknefs and intricacy that thinking
men have found in this fubjedl, and the errors they have fallen
into, have been owing to the difficulty of diftinguilhing clearly
fenfation from perception ; what we feel from what we perceive.

The external fenfes have a double province ; to make us feel,
and to make us perceive. They furnifh us with a variety of fen-
fations, fome pleafant, others painful, and others indifferent ; at
the fame time they give us a conception, and an invincible belief
of the exiftcnce of external objeifls. This conception of external
obje(5ls is the work of Nature. The belief of their exiftence, which
our fenfes give, is the work of Nature ; fo likewife is the fenfation
that accompanies it. This conception and belief which Nature
produces by means of the fenfes, we call perception. The feeling

which

248 ESSAY ir.

CHAP. XVII. ^vhich goes along with the perception, we c&W fenfation. The per-
ception and its correfponding feniiition are produced at the fame
time. In our experience we never find them disjoined. Hence we
are led to confider them as one thing, to give them one name, and
to confound their different attributes. It becomes very difEcuIt to
feparate them in thought, to attend to each by itfelf, and to attri-
bute nothing to it which belongs to the other.

To do this requires a degree of attention to what pafTes in our
own minds, and a talent of diftinguifhing things that differ, which
is not to be expe(5led in the vulgar, and is even rarely found in
Philofophers ; fo that the progrefs made in a juft analyfis of the
operations of our fenfes has been very flow. The hypothelis of
ideas, fo generally adopted, hath, as I apprehend, greatly retarded
this progrefs, and we might hope for a quicker advance, if Philo-
fophers could fo far humble themfelves as to believe, that in every
branch of the philofophy of Nature, the produ<5lions of human
fancy and conjedlure will be found to be drofs ; and that the only
pure metal that will endure the teft, is what is difcovered by pa-
tient obfervation, and chafte indudion.

CHAP. XVIII.

Of other Objects of Perception.

BESIDES primary and fecondary qualities of bodies, there are
many other immediate objects of perception. Without pre-
tending to a complete enumeration, I think they moftly fall under
one or other of the following clafTes. i/?, Certain ftates or con-
ditions of our own bodies. 2<y, Mechanical powers or forces.
3^, Chemical powers. 4//^, Medical powers or virtues. 5/^, Ve-
getable and animal powers.

That

OF OTHER OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 249

That we perceive certain cliforders in our own bodies by means CHAF.XVIIL
of uneafy fenfations, which Nature hath conjoined with them,
will not be difputed. Of this kind are toothach, headach, gout,
and every diftemper and hurt which we feel. The notions which
our fenfe gives of thefe, have a ftrong analogy to our notions of fe-
condary qualities. Both are fimilarly compounded, and may be
fimilarly refolved, and they give light to each other.

In the toothach, for in fiance, there is, firjl^ a painful feeling ;
and, fecondly^ a conception and belief of fome diforder in the
tooth, which is believed to be the caufe of the uneafy feeling.
The firft of thefe is a fenfation, the fecond is perception ; for it
include* a conception and belief of an external objedl. But thefe
two things, though of different natures, are fo conftantly conjoin-
ed in our experience, and in our imagination, that we confider
them as one. We give the fame name to both ; for the toothach
is the proper name of the pain we feel ; and it is the proper name
of the diforder in the tooth which caufes that pain. If it fliould
be made a queftion, whether the toothach be in the mind that
feels it, or in the tooth that is affejfled ? much might be faid on
both fides, while, it is not obferved that the word has two mean-
ings. But a little refledlion fatisfies us, that the pain is in the
mind, and the diforder in the tooth. If fome Philofopher fhould
pretend to have made a difcovery, that the toothach, the gout,
the headach, are only fenfations in the mind, and that it is a vul-
gar error to conceive that they are diftempers of the body, he
might defend his fyftem in the fame manner as thofe, w^ho affirm
that there is no found nor colour nor tafte in bodies, defend that
paradox. But both thefe fyftems, like moll paradoxes, will be found
to be only an abufe of words.

We fay that we feel the toothach, not that we perceive it. On
the other hand, we fay that we perceive the colour of a body,
not that we feel it. Can any reafon be given for this difference of

I i phrafeology?

2sO

ESSAY II.

CHAP.XViu. phrafeology ? In anfwer to this queftion, I apprehend, that both
when we feel the toothach, and when we fee a coloured body, there
is fenfation and perception conjoined. But, in the toothach, the
fenfation being very painful, engrofles the attention ; and therefore
we fpeak of it, as if it were felt only, and not perceived : Whereas,
in feeing a coloured body, the fenfation is indifferent, and draws net
attention. The quality in the body, which we call its colour, is the
only object of attention j and therefore we fpeak of it, as if it were
perceived, and not felt. Though all Philofophers agree that in
feeing colour there is fenfation, it is not eafy to perfuade the vulgar,
that, in feeing a coloured body, when the light is not too ftrong,
nor the eye inflamed, they have any fenfation or feeling at all.

There are fome fenfations, which, though they are very often
felt, are never attended to, nor reflected upon. We have no con-
ception of them ; and therefore, in language, there is neither any
name for them, nor any form of fpeech that fuppofes their exifl-
ence. Such are the fenfations of colour, and of all primary qua-
lities ; and therefore thofe qualities are faid to be perceived, but
not to be felt. Taft;e and fmell, and heat and cold, have fenfa-
tions that are often agreeable or difagreeable, in fuch a degree as
to draw our attention ; and they are fometimes faid to be felt, and
fometimes to be perceived. When diforders of the body occafion
very acute pain, the uneafy fenfation engrofles the attention, and
they are faid to be felt, not to be perceived.

There is another queftion relating to phrafeology, which this
fubjedl fuggefts. A man fays, he feels pain in fuch a particular
part of his body ; in his toe, for infl:ance. Now, reafoa affures
us, that pain being a fenfation, can only be in the fentient being,
as its fubje(5l, that is, in the mind. And though Philofophers
have difputed much about the place of the mind ; yet none
of them ever placed it in the toe. What fliall we fay then
in this cafe? do our fenfes really deceive us, and make us be-
lieve a thing which our reafon determines to be impoflible ? I

anfwer.

OF OTHER OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 251

anfwer, yjyy?, That, when a man fays he has pain in his toe, he is CHAP.XVIII.

perfe<5lly underftood, both by himfelf, and thofe who hear him.

This is all that he intends. He really feels what he and all men

call a pain in the toe ; and there is no deception in the matter.

Whether therefore there be any impropriety in the phrafe or not,

is of no confequence in common life. It anfwers all the ends of

Ipeech, both to the fpeaker and the hearers.

In all languages, there are phrafes which have a diftindl mean-
ing ; while, at the fame time, there may be fomething in the ftruc-
ture of them that difagrees with the analogy of grammar, or with
the principles of philofophy. And the reafon is, becaufe language
is not made either by Grammarians or Philofophers. Thus we
fpeak of feeling pain, as if pain was fomething diftincft from the
feeling of it. We fpeak of a pain coming and going, and remo-
ving from one place to another. Such phrafes are meant by thofe
who ufe them in a fenie that is neither obfcure nor falfe. But the
Philofopher puts them into his alembic, reduces them to their firfl
principles, draws out of them a fenfe that was never meant, and
fo imagines that he has difcovered an error of the vulgar.

-i lo IJEii 9fi xioij<.
I obferve, /efondlyy That, when we confider the fenfatlon of pain
by itfelf, without any refped to its caufe, we cannot fay with
propriety, that the toe is either the place, or the fubjedl of it. But
it ought to be remembered, that when we fpeak of pain in the
toe, the fenfatio.n is combined in our thought, with the caufe of
i,t, which, really is in the toe. The caufe and the effedl are com-
bined in one complex notion, and the fame name ferves for both.
It is the bufinefs of the Philofopher to analyfe this complex
notion, and to give different names to its different ingredients.
He gives the name of pain to the fenfation only, and the name of
dtjorder to the unknown caufe of it. Then ic is evident that the
diforder only is in the toe, and that it would be an error to think
that the pain is in it. But we ought not to afcribe this error to the

I i 2 vulgar,

252 ESSAY ir.

CHAP.Xvni. vulgar, who never made the difl:in<5tion, and who under the name
of pain comprehend both the fenfation and its caufe.

Cafes fometimes happen, which give occafion even to the vulgar
to diftinguifh the painful fenfation from the diforder which is the
caufe of it. A man who has had his leg cut off, many years after
feels pain in a toe of that leg. The toe has now no exigence;
and he perceives eafily, that the toe can neither be the place, nor
the fubjeil of the pain which he feels ; yet it is the fame feeling
he ufed to have from a hurt in the toe ; and if he did not know
that his leg was cut off, it would give him the fame immediate
conviction of fome hurt or dilbrder in thq toe. ■ ;

The fame phacnomenon may lead the Philofopher, in all cafes, to
diftinguifh fenfation from perception. We fay, that the man had
a deceitful feeling, when he felt a pain in his toe after the leg was
cut off; and we have a true meaning in faying fo. But, if we
will fpeak accurately, our fenfations cannot be deceitful ; they mufl
be what we feel them to be, and can be nothing elfe. Where
then lies the deceit ? I anfwer, it lies not in the fenfation, which
is real, but in the feeming perception he had of a diforder in his
toe. This perception, which Nature had conjoined with the fen-
I'ation, was in this inftance fallacious.

The fame reafoning may be applied to every phaenomenon that
can, with propriety, be called a deception of fenfe. As when one,
who has the jaundice, fees a body yellow, which is really white ;
or when a man fees an objedl double, becaufe his eyes are not both
dire<fted to it; in thefe, and other like cafes, the fenfations we
have are real, and the deception is only in the perception which
Nature has annexed to them.

Nature has connected our perception of external objedls with
certain fenfations. If the fenfation is produced, the correfpond-
ing perception follows even when there is no objetSt, and in that

cafe

OF OTHER OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 253

cafe is apt to deceive us. In like manner, Nature has connedled CHAP, xviii.
our fenfations with certain impreflions that are made upon the
nerves and brain : And, when the impreffion is made, from what-
ever caufe, the correfponding fenfation and perception immediately
follows. Thus, in the man who feels pain in his toe after the leg
is cut off, the nerve that went to the toe, part of which was cut
off with the leg, had the fame impreffion made upon the remain-
ing part, which, in the natural ftate of his body, was caufed by
a hurt in the toe : And immediately this impreffion is followed by
the fenfation and perception which Nature conneded with it.

In like manner, if the fame impreffions, which are made at
prefent upon my optic nerves by the objeds before me, could be
made in the dark, I apprehend that I Ihould have the fame fenfa-
tions, and fee the fame objedls which I now fee. The impreffions
and fenfations would in fuch a cafe be real, and the perception on-
ly fallacious.

Let us next confider the notions which our fenfes give us of
thofe attributes of bodies called powers. This is the more neceffa-
ry, becaufe power feems to imply fome a<5livity ; yet we confider
body as a dead inadlive thing, which does not adl, but may be
a(5ted upon.

Of the mechanical powers afcribed to bodies, that which is call-
ed their vis injita, or inertia, may firft be confidered. By this is
meant, no more than that bodies never change their ftate of them-
felves, either from reft to motion, or from motion to reft, or from
one degree of velocity, or one diredlion to another. In order to
produce any fuch change, there muft be fome force impreffed up-
on them ; and the change produced is precifely proportioned to
the force impreffed, and in the direction of that force.

That all bodies have this property, is a matter of facfl, which
we learn ixova. daily obfervation, as well as from the moft

accurate

254 E S S A Y II.

-v~

CHAP. XVIII- accurate experiments. Now it feems plain, that this does not im-
ply any atftivity in body, but rather the contrary. A power in
body to change its ftate, would much rather imply adlivity than its
continuing in the fame ftate: So that, although this property of
bodies is called theii- vis InfUa^ or vis inertia^ it implies no proper
a<5livity.

If we confider, next, the power of gravity, it is a fa<5l, that all
the bodies of our planetary fyftem gravitate towards each other.
This has been fully proved by the great Newton. But this gra-
vitation is not conceived by that Philofopher to be a power inhe-
. rent in bodies, which they exert of themfelves, but a force im-
preiTed upon them, to which they muft neceflarily yield. Whe-
ther this force be imprefTed by fome fubtile asther, or whether it
be imprefTed by the power of the Supreme Being, or of fome
fubordinate fpiritual being, we do not know ; but all found natu-
ral philofophy, particularly that of Newton, fuppofes it to be an
imprefTed force, and not inherent in bodies.

So that, when bodies gravitate, they do not properly acSl, but
are adled upon : They only yield to an impreflion that is made up-
on them. It is common in language to exprefs, by adlive verbs,
many changes in things, wherein they are merely paflive : And
this way of fpeaking is ufed chiefly when the caufe of the change
is not obvious to fenfe. Thus we fay that a fhip fails, when eve-
ry man of common fenfe knows that fhe has no inherent power
of motion, and is only driven by wind and tide. In like manner,
when we fay that the planets gravitate towards the fun, we mean
no more, but that, by fome unknown power, they are drawn or
impelled in that diredlion.

What has been faid of the power of gravitation may be applied
to other mechanical powers, fuch as cohefion, magnetifm, elcdtri-
city ; and no lefs to chemical and medical powers. By all thefe,
certain efTecfts are produced, upon the application of one body to

another.

OF OTHER OBJECTS OF PERCEPTION. 255

another. Our fenfes difcover the efFed ; but the power is latent. CHAP.XVIII-
We know there mufl be a caufe of the effed, and we form a rela-
tive notion of it from its effedl ; and very often the fame name is
ufed to fignify the unknown caufe, and the known efFedl.

We afcribe to vegetables, the powers of drawing noutifhment,
growing and multiplying their kind. Here likewife the effe<5t is
manifeft, but the caufe is latent to fenfe. Thefe powers, therefore,
as well as all the other powers we afcribe to bodies, are unknown
caufes of certain known effe(fts. It is the bufinefs of philofophy
to inveftigate the nature of thofe powers as far as we are able, but
■ our fenfes leave us in the dark.

We may obferve a great fimilarity in the notions which our
fenfes give us of fecondary qualities, of the diforders we feel in
our own bodies, and of the various powers of bodies which we
have enumerated. They are all obfcure and relative notions, be-
ing a conception of fome unknown caufe of a known efFedt. Their
names are, for the mod part, common to the effedl, and to its
caufe ; and they are a proper fubje<5l of philofophical difquifition.
They might therefore, I think, not improperly, be called occult
qualities.

This name indeed is fallen into dlfgrace flnce the time of Des
Cartes. It is faid to have been ufed by the Peripatetics to cloke .
their ignorance, and to flop all enquiry into the nature of thofe
qualities called occult. Be it fo. Let thofe anfwer for this abufe
of the word who were guilty of it. To call a thing occult, if we
attend to the meaning of the word, is rather modeflly to confefs
ignorance, than to cloke it. It is to point it out as a proper fubje(5l
for the inveftigation of Philofophers, whofe proper bufinefs it is to
better the condition of humanity, by difcovering what was before
hid from human knowledge.

Were

256 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XVI p.

> '

Were I therefore to make a divifion of the qualities of bodies as
they appear to our fenfes, I would divide them firfl: into thofe that
are tnantfeji, and thofe that are occult. Tl\e manifeft qualities are
thofe which Mr Locke calls primary; fuch as extenfion, figure,
divifibility, motion, hardnefs, foftnefs, fluidity. The nature of
thefe is manifeft even to fenfe ; and the bufinefs of the Philofopher
with regard to them, is not to find out their nature, which is well
known, but to difcover the effedls produced by their various com-
binations ; and with regard to thofe of them which are not eflential
to matter, to difcover their caufes as far as he is able.

The fecond clafs confifts of occult qualities, which may be fub-
divided into various kinds ; as Jirjl^ the fecondary qualities ; fe-
condly^ the diforders we feel in our own bodies ; and, thirdly^ all
the qualities which we call powers of bodies, whether mechanical,
chemical, medical, animal or vegetable ; or if there be any other
powers not comprehended under thefe heads. Of all thefe the
exiftence is manifeft to fenfe, but the nature is occult ; and here
the Philofopher has an ample field.

What is neceflary for the conducSl of our animal life, the boun-
tiful Author of Nature hath made manifeft to all men. But there
are many other choice fecrets of Nature, the difcovery of which
enlarges the power, and exalts the ftate of man. Thel'e are left to be
difcovered by the proper ufe of our rational powers. They are hid,
not that they may be always concealed from human knowledge,
but that we may be excited to fearch for them. This is the pro-
per bufinefs of a Philofopher, and it is the glory of a man, and
the beft reward of his labour, to difcover what Nature has thus
concealed.

CHAP.

OF MATTER AND OF SPACE.

CHAP. XIX.
Of Matter and of Space.

THE objeds of fenfe we have hitherto confidered are qualities.
But qualities muft have a fubjedl. We give the names of
matter .^ material fubjlance^ and hody^ to the fubjeft of fenfible qua-
lities ; and it may be afked, what this matter is ?

I perceive in a billiard ball, figure, colour, and motion ; but the
ball is not figure, nor is it colour, nor motion, nor all thefe taken
together ; it is fomething that has figure, and colour, and motion.
This is a didate of Nature, and the belief of all mankind.

As to the nature of this fomething, I am afraid we can give little
account of it, but that it has the qualities which our fenfes difcover.

But how do we know that they are qualities, and cannot exift
without a fubjedt ? I confefs I cannot explain how we know that
they cannot exift without a fubjedl, any more than I can explain
how we know that they exift. We have the information of nature
for their exiftence ; and I think we have the information of nature
that they are qualities.

The belief that figure, motion, and colour, are qualities, and re-
quire a fubjed, muft either be a judgment of nature, or it muft
be difcovered by reafon, or it muft be a prejudice that has no juft
foundation. There are Philofophers who maintain, that it is a mere
prejudice j that a body is nothing but a coUedlion of what we call
fenfible qualities ; and that they neither have nor need any fubjeifV.
This is the opinion of Biftaop Berkeley and Mr Hume ; and they
were led to it by finding, that they had not in their minds any

K k idea

258 E S S A Y ir.

CHAP.XIX- idea of fubftance. It could neither be an idea of fenfation nor of
reflection.

But to me nothing feems more abfurd, than that there Ihould be
excenfion without any thing extended ; or motion without any-
thing moved; yet I cannot give reafons for my opinion, becaufe it
feems to me felf-evident, and an immediate didlate of my nature.

And that it is the belief of all mankind, appears in the fl:ru(5lure
of all languages ; in which we find adje(£live nouns ufed to exprefs
fenfible qualities. It is well known that every adjedive in lan-
guage muft belong to fome fubftantive exprefTed or underflood;
that is, every quality muft belong to fome fubjedl.

Senfible qualities make fo great a part of the furniture .of our
minds, their kinds are fo many, and their number fo great, that
if prejudice, and not nature, teach us to afcribe them all to a fub-
jedt, it muft have a great work to perform, which cannot be ac-
complifhed in a fhort time, nor carried on to the fame pitch in
every individual. We ftiould find not individuals only, but nations
and ages, differing from each other in the progrefs which this
prejudice had made in their fentiments ; but we find no fuch dif-
ference among men. Wliat one man accounts a quality, all men
do, and ever did.

It feems therefore to be a judgment of nature, that the things
immediately perceived are qualities, which muft belong to a fub-
je(5l ; and all the information that our fenfes give us about this
fubje6l, is, that it is that to which fuch qualities belong. From this
it is evident, that our notion of body or matter, as diftinguifhed
from its qualities, is a relative notion ; and I am afraid it muft
always be obfcure until men have other faculties.

The Philofopher in this feems to have no advantage above the
Tulgar ; for as they perceive colour, and figure, and motion by

their

OFMATTERANDOFSPACE. 259

their fenfes as well as he does, and both are equally certain that CHAP.XIX.

there is a fubjedl of thofe qualities, fo the notions which both have

of this fubje<5l are equally obfcure. When the Philofopher calls it

2i fuhjlratum^ and a fubjedl of inhefion, thofe learned words convey

no meaning but what every man underflands and exprefles, by

faying in common language, that it is a thing extended, and folid,

and moveable. ^

The relation which fenfible qualities bear to their fubjedl, that
is, to body, is not, however, fo dark, but that it is eafily diftin-
guilhed from all other relations. Every man can diftinguilli it
from the relation of an effedl to its caufe; of a mean to its end; or
of a fign to the thing fignified by it.

I think it requires fome ripenefs of underflanding to diftinguifh
the qualities of a body from the body. Perhaps this diftindion is
not made by brutes, nor by infants ; and if any one thinks that
this diftindion is not made by our fenfes, but by fome other power
of the mind, I will not difpute this point, provided it be granted,
that men, when their faculties are ripe, have a natural convi<5lion,
that fenfible qualities cannot exift by themfelves without fome
fubjecl to which they belong.

I think, indeed, that fome of the determinations we form con-
cerning matter cannot be deduced folely from the teftimony of
fenfe, but mufl be referred to fome other fource.

There feems to be nothing more evident, than that all bodies
mufl confifl of parts ; and that every part of a body is a body, and
a diflindl being which may exifl without the other parts ; and yet
I apprehend this conclufion is not deduced folely from the tefli-
mony of fenfe ; For, beGdes that it is a neceffary truth, and there-
fore no objedl of fenfe, there is a limit beyond which we cannot
perceive any divifion of a body. The parts become too fmall to
be perceived by our fenfes j but we cannot believe that it becomes

K k 2 then

26a ESSAY It,

CHAP. XIX. then incapable of being farther divided, or that fuch dlvifion would
make it not to be a body.

We carry on the divifion and fubdivifion in our thought far be-
yond the reach of our fenles, and we can find no end to it : Nay,
I think we plainly difcern, that there can be no limit beyond which
the divifion cannot be carried.

For if there be any limit to this divifion, one of two things niud
neceilarily happen. Either we have come by divifion to a body
which is extended, but has no parts, and is abfolutely indivifible;
or this botiy is divifible, but as foon as it is divided, it becomes
no body. Both thefe pofitions feem to me abfurd, and one or the
other is the neceffary confequencc of fuppofing a limit to the divi-
fibility o:f matter.

On the other hand, if it is admitted that the divifibility of matter
has no limit, it will follow, that no body can be called one indivi-
dual fubftance. You may as well call it two, or twenty, or two
hundred. For when it is divided into parts, every part is a being
or fubftance diftincl from all the other parts, and was fo even be-
fore the divifion : Any one part may continue to exift, though all
the other parts were annihilated.

There is, indeed, a principle long received, as an axiom in me-
taphyfics, which I cannot reconcile to the divifibility of matter.
It is, That every being is one, omne ens ejl unum. By which, I fup-
pofe, is meant, that every thing that exifts mud either be one in-
divifible being, or compofed of a determinate number of indivi-
fible beings. Thus an army may be divided into regiments, a re-
giment into companies, and a company into men. But here the
divifion has its limit ; for you cannot divide a man without deftroy-
ing him, becaufe he is an individual ; and every thing, according
to this axiom, muft be an individual, or made up of individuals.

That

OF MATTER AND OF SPACE. 261

That this axiom will hold with regard to an army, and with re- CHAP.XIX.
gard to maAy other things, muft be granted : But I require the
evidence- of its being applicable to all beings whatfoever.

Leibnitz, conceiving that all beings mud have this metaphy-
fical unity, was by this led to maintain, that matter, and indeed
the whole univerfe, is made up of monades, that is, fimple and
indivifible fubftances.

Perhaps the fame apprehenfion might lead Boscovick into his
hypothefis, which feems much more ingenious ; to wit, that mat-
ter is compofed of a definite number of mathematical points, en-
dowed with certain powers of attradlion and repulfion.

The divifibility of matter without any limit, feems to me more
tenable than either of thefe hypothefes j nor do I lay much ftrefs
upon the metaphyfical axiom, confidering its origin. Metaphyfi-
cians thought proper to make the attributes common to all beings
the fubjecfl of a fcience. It mufl be a matter of fome difficulty to
find out fuch attributes : And, after racking their invention, they
have fpecified three, to wit, unity, verity, and goodnefs ; and thefe,
I fuppofe, have been invented to make a number, rather than from
any clear evidence of their being univerfal.

There are other determinations concerning matter, which, I
think, are not folely founded upon the teftimony of fenfe : Such
as, that it is impoffible that two bodies (liould occupy the fame
place at the fame time ; or that the fame body Ihould be in diffe-
rent places at the fame time ; or that a body can be moved from
one place to another, without pafling through the intermediate
places, either in a ftraight courfe, or by fome circuit. Thefe appear
to be necefTary truths, and therefore cannot be conclufions of our
fenfes ; for our fenfes teftify only what is, and not what mufl ne-
ceffarily be.

We

262 E S S A Y II.

CHAP.Xix^ We ars next to confider our notion of fpace. It may be obfer-
Tcd, that although fpace be not perceived by any of our fenfes
when all matter is removed ; yet, when we perceive any of the
primary qualities, fpace prefents itfelf as a necelFary concomitant :
For there can neither be extenfion, nor motion, nor figure, nor
divifion, nor cohefion of parts without fpace.

There are only two of our fenfes by which the notion of fpace
enters into the mind ; to wit, touch and fight. If we fuppofe a
man to have neither of thefe fenfes, I do not fee how he could
ever have any conception of fpace. Suppofmg him to have both,
until he fees or feels other objeds, he can have no notion of fpace :
It has neither colour nor figure to make it an objed of fight : It
has no tangible quality to make it an objedl of touch. But other
objedls of fight and touch carry the notion of fpace along with
them ; and not the notion only, bvit the belief of it : For a body
could not exifl if there was no fpace to contain it : It could not
move if there was no fpace : Its fituation, its diftance, and every
relation it has to other bodies, fuppofe fpace.

But though the notion of fpace feems not to enter at firft into
the mind, until it is introduced by the proper objeds of fenfe ;
yet, being once introduced, it remains in our conception and be-
lief, though the objeds which introduced it be removed. We fee
no abfurdity in fuppofing a body to be annihilated ; but the fpace
that contained it remains ; and to fuppofe that annihilated, feems
to be abfurd. It is fo much allied to nothing or emptinefs, that it
feems incapable of annihilation or of creation.

Space not only retains a firm hold of our belief, even when we
fuppofe all the objedls that introduced it to be annihilated, but it
fwells to immenfity. We can fet no limits to it, either of extent
or of duration. Hence we call it immenfe, eternal, immoveable,
and indcftrudiblc. But it is only an immenfe, eternal, immove-
able, and indeflrudible void or emptinefs. Perhaps we may apply

to

OFMATTERANDOFSPACE. 265

to it what the Peripatetics faid of their firfl matter, that whatever CHAP.Xix.
it is, ic is potentially only, not acflually.

When we conflder parts of fpace that have meafure and figure,
there is nothing we underftand better, nothing about which we
can reafon fo clearly, and to fo great extent. Extenfion and figure
are circumfcribed parts of fpace, and are the objecfl of geometry,
a fcience in which human reafon has the mofl ample field, and can
go deeper, and with more certainty than in any other. But when
we attempt to comprehend the whole of fpace, and to trace it to
its origin, we lofe ourfelves in the fearch. The profound fpecula-
tions of ingenious men upon this fubjedl differ fo widely, as may-
lead us to fufped, that the line of human underftanding is too
Ihort to reach the bottom of it.

Bifliop Berkeley, I think, was the firfl; who obferved, that tha
extenfion, figure, and fpace, of which we fpeak in common lan-
guage, and of which geometry treats, are originally perceived
by the fenfe of touch only ; but that there is a notion of exten-
fion, figure, and fpace, which may be got by fight, without any
aid from touch. To diftinguifh thefe, he calls the firfl tangibls
extenfion,. tangible figure, and tangible fpace ; the lad he calls
vifible.

As I think this difliincflion very important In the philofophy of
our fenfes, I fhall adopt the names ufed by the inventor to ex^
prefs it ; remembering what has been already obferved, that fpace,
whether tangible or vifible, is not fo properly an objed of fenfe,
as a neceffary concomitant of the obje<5ls both of fight and touchy

The reader may likewife be pleafed to attend to this, that when
I ufe the names of tangible and vifible fpace, I do not mean to
adopt Bifhop Berkeley's opinion, fo far as to think that they are
really different things, and altogether unlike. I take them to be
different conceptions of tlae fame tiling ;. the one very partial, and

the:

264 ESSAY II.

CHAP. XIX. the other more complete; but both diflind and juft, as far as
they reach.

Thus when I fee a fplre at a very great diilance, it feems like
the point of a bodkin ; there appears no vane at the top, no angles.
But when I view the fame objedl at a fmall diftance, I fee a huge
pyramid of feveral angles with a vane on the top. Neither of
thefe appearances is fallacious. Each of them is what it ought to
be, and what it mull be, from fuch an objedl feen at fuch different
diftances. Thefe different appearances of the fame objedl may
ferve to illuftrate the different conceptions of fpace, according as
they are drawn from the information of light alone, or as they
are drawn from the additional information of toucli.

Our fight alone, unaided by touch, gives a very partial notion
of fpace, but yet a diflindl one. When it is confidered, accord-
ing to this partial notion, I call it vifible fpace. The fenfe of
touch gives a much more complete notion of fpace ; and when ic
is confidered according to this notion, I call it tangible fpace. Per-
haps there may be intelligent beings of a higher order, whofe
conceptions of fpace are much more complete than thofe we have
from both fenfes. Another fenfe added to thofe of fight and touch,
might, for what I know, give us conceptions of fpace, as different
from thofe we can now attain, as tangible fpace is from vifible ;
and might refolve many knotty points concerning it, which, from
the imperfedion of our faculties, we cannot by any labour untie.

Berkeley acknowledges that there is an exa(5l correfpondence
between the vifible figure and magnitude of objedls, and the tan-
gible ; and that every modification of the one has a modification
of the other correfponding. He acknowledges likewife, that Na-
ture has eflabliflied fuch a connedlion between the vifible figure
and magnitude of an object:, and the tangible, that we learn by
experience to know the tangible figure and magnitude from the
vifible. And having been accuflomed to do fo from infancy, we

get

OFMATTERANDOFSPACE. 265

get the habit of doing it with fuch facility and quicknefs, that we ^[^^^•^^-^'
think we fee the tangible figure, magnitude, and diftance of bodies,
when, in reality, we only colled thofe tangible qualities from the
correfponding vifible qualities, which are natural figns of them.

The correfpondence and connetflion which Berkeley fliews to be
between the vifible figure, and magnitude of obje(5ts, and their tan-
gible figure and magnitude, is in fome refpecfls very fimilar to
that which we have obferved between our fenfations, and the pri-
mary qualities with which they are connedled. No fooner is the
fenfation felt, than immediately we have the conception and belief
of the correfponding quality. We give no attention to the fenfa-
tion ; it has not a name ; and it is difiicult to perfuade us that
there was any fuch thing.

In like manner, no fooner is the vifible figure and magnitude
of an objedl feen, than immediately we have the conception and
belief of the correfponding tangible figure and magnitude. We give
no attention to the vifible figure and magnitude. It is immediately ,
forgot, as if it had never been perceived ; and it has no name in
common language ; and indeed, until Berkeley pointed it out
as a fubjedl of fpeculation, and gave it a name, it had none
among Philofophers, excepting in one infl:ance, relating to the
heavenly bodies, 'which are beyond the reach of touch. With re-
gard to them, what Berkeley calls vifible magnitude, was, by
Aftronomers, called apparent magnitude.

There is furely an apparent magnitude, and an apparent figure
of terreflrial objeds, as well as of celeflial ; and this is what
Berkeley calls their vifible figure and magnitude. But this was
never made an objed of thought among Philofophers, until that
author gave it a name, and obferved the correfpondence and con-
nedtion between it and tangible magnitude and figure, and how
the mind gets the habit of pafilng fo inftantaneoufly from the
vifible figure, as a fign to the tangible figure, as the thing figni-

L 1 fied

266 ESSAY II.

CHAP.xix. £e(i by it, that the firfl is perfeiflly forgot, as if it had never been
perceived.

Vifible figure, extenfion and fpace, may be made a fubje<5l of
mathematical fpeculation, as well as the tangible. In the vifible^
we find two dimenfions only ; in the tangible three. In the one,
magnitude is meafured by angles ; in the other by lines. Every
part of vifible fpace bears fome proportion to the whole ; but tan-
gible fpace being immenfe, any part of it bears no proportion to
the whole.

Such differences in their properties led Bifliop Berkeley to
think, that vifible and tangible magnitude and figure, are things
totally different and difiimilar, and cannot both belong -to the
fame objeifl.

And upon this diffimilitude is grounded one of the flrongeft
arguments by which his fyftem is fupported. For it may be faid,
if there be external objedls which have a real extenfion and figure,
it muft be either tangible extenfion and figure, or vifible, or both.
The laft appears abfurd ; nor was it ever maintained by any man,
that the fame objedl has two kinds of extenfion and figure, total-
ly diffunilar. There is then only one of the two really in the
cbje<5l ; and the other mufl be ideal. But no reafon can be af-
figned why the perceptions of one fenfe Ihould be real, while
thofe of another are only ideal ; and he who is perfuaded that the
obje(5ls of fight are ideas only, has equal reafon to believe fo of
the objeds of touch.

This argument, however, lofes all its force, if it be true, as was
formerly hinted, that vifible figure and extenfion are only a partial
conception, and the tangible figure and extenfion a more complete
conception of that figure and extenfion which is really in the objedl.

It has been proved very fully by Bifliop Berkeley, that figkt

alone.

OFMATTERANDOFSPACE. 267

alone, without any aid from the informations of touch, gives us CHAP. XIX.
no perception, nor even conception of the diftance of any objedl
from the eye. But he was not aware, that this very principle
overturns the argument for his fyftem, taken from the difference
between vifible and tangible extenfion and figure : For, fuppofing
external objcdls to exift, and to have that tangible extenfion and
figure which we perceive, it follows demonftrably, from the prin-
ciple now mentioned, that their vifible extenfion and figure muft
be juft what we fee it to be.

The rules of perfpecSllve, and of the projedllon of the f[)herje,
which is a branch of perfpe<5live, are demonflrable. They fup-
pofe the exiftence of ex;ternal objedls, which have a tangible ex-
tenfion and figure ; and, upon that fuppofition, they demonftrate
what muft be the vifible extenfion and figure of fuch obje<Ss, when
placed in fuch a pofition, and at fuch a diftance.

Hence it is evident, that the vifible figure and extenfion of ob-
jects is fo far from being incompatible with the .tangible, that the
firft is a neceflary confequence from the laft, in beings that fee as
we do. The correfpondence between them is not arbitrary, like
that between words and the thing they fignify, as Berkelev
thought ; but it refults necefllarily from the nature of the two
fenfes ; and this correfpondence being always found in experience
to be exad^ly what the rules of perfpe(5live fhow that it ought to
be if the fenfes give true information, is an argument of the
truth of both.

C H A P. XX.

iJf the "Evidence of Senfe^ and of Belief in general.

THE intention of Nature in the powers which we call the ex-
ternal fenfes, is evident. They are intended to give us that
information of external objecfts which the fupreme Being faw to

L 1 2 be

268 E S S A Y II.

CHAP^X. be proper for us in our prefent ftate ; and they give to all man-
kind the information necefTary for life, without reafoning, without
any art or inveftigation on our part.

The mod: unin{lrud:ed peafant has as difl:in<ft a conception, and
as firm a belief of the immediate objedls of his fenfes, as the great-
eft Philofopher ; and with this he refts fatisfied, giving himfelf no
concern how he came by this conception and belief. But the
Philofopher is impatient to know how his conception of external
obje(5ls, and his belief of their exiftence, is produced. This, I ann
afraid, is hid in impenetrable darknefs. But where there is no
knowledge, there is the more room for conjecflure ; and of this
Philofophers have always been very liberal.

The dark cave and fhadows of Plato, the fpecies of Aristotle,
the films of Epicurus, and the ideas and impreflions of modern
Philofophers, are the produdions of human fancy, fucceffively in-
vented to fatisfy the eager defire of knowing how we perceive ex-
ternal objeds ; but they are all deficient in the two effential cha-
ra(5ters of a true and philofophical account of the phsenomenon :
For we neither have any evidence of their exlftence, nor, if they
did exift, can it be Ihewn how they would produce perception.

It was before obferved, that there are two ingredients in this
operation of perception : F'trjl^ The conception or notion of the
objedl ; and, fecondly^ The belief of its prefent exiftence ; both are
unaccountable.

That we can affign no adequate caufe of our firft conceptions of
things, I think, is now acknowledged by the mofl: enlightened Phi-
lofophers. We know that fuch is our conftitution, that in certain
circumflances we have certain conceptions ; but how they are pro-
duced, we know no more than how we ourfelves were produced.

When we have got the conception of external objects by our

fenfes,

OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, ^c. 269

fenfes, we can analyfe them in our thought into their fimple in- CHAP. XX.
gredients ; and we can compound thofe. ingredients into various
new forms, which the fenles never prefented. But it is beyond
the power of human imagination to form any conception, whofe
fimple ingredients have not been furniflied by Nature in a manner
tmaccountable to our underftanding.

We have an imm.cdiate conception of the operations of our own
minds, joined with a beUef of their exiilence ; and this we call
confcioufnefs. But this is only giving a name to this fource of
our knowledge. It is not a difcovery of its caufe. In like man-
ner, we have, by our external fenfes, a conception of external ob-
je(5ls, joined with a belief of their exiftence ; and this we call
perception. But this is only giving a name to another fource of
our knowledge, without difcovering its caufe.

We know, that 'when' certain impreffions arc made upon our
organs, nerves, and brain, certain correfponding fenfations are
felt, and certain objects are both conceived and believed to exift.
But in this train of operations Nature works in the dark. We
can neither difcover the caufe of any one of them, nor any ne-
cefTary connection of one with another : And whether they are
connedled by any neceffary tie, or only conjoined in our confti-
tution by the will of Heaven, we know not.

That any kind of impreflion upon a body Ihould be the efficient
caufe of fenfation, appears very abfurd. Nor can we perceive any
neceffary connection between fenfation and the conception and
belief of an external object. For any thing we can difcover, we
might have been fo framed as to have all the fenfations we now
have by our fenfes, without any impreffions upon our organs, and
without any conception of any external object. For any tiling
vve know, we might have been fo made as to perceive external ob-
jeds, without any impreffions on bodily organs, and without any

of

270

ESSAY 11.

CHAP. XX. of thofe fenfatlons which invariably accompany perception in our
prefent frame.

If our conception of external objecls be unaccountable, the con-
vidion and belief of their exiftence, which we get by our fenfes,
is no lefs fo.

Belief, aflent, convidlion, are words which I think do nof ad-
mit of logical definition, becaufe the operation of mind fignified
by them is perfecflly fimple, and of its own kind. Nor do they
need to be defined, becaufe tliey are common words, and well un-
derftood.

Belief muft have an objed. For he that believes, mufl believe
fomething ; and that which he believes is called the objedl of his
belief. Of this obje<5l of his belief, he muft have fome conception,
clear or obfcure ; for although there may be the moft clear and
diftindl conception of an objedl without any belief of its exiftence,
■there can be no belief without conception.

Belief is always exprefled in language by a propofitlon, wherein
fomething is affirmed or denied. This is the form of fpeech which
in all languages is appropriated to that purpofe, and without belief
there could be neither affirmation nor denial, nor ftiould we have
any form of words to exprefs either. Belief admits of all degrees
from the flighteft fufpicion to the fulleft aflurance. Thefe things
are fo evident to every man that refledls, that it would be abufing
•the reader's patience ^o dwell upon them.

I proceed to obferve, that there are many operations of mind in
which, when we analyfe them as far as we are able, we find be-
lief to be an ^flential ingredient. A man cannot be confcious of
liis own thoughts, without believing that he thinks. He cannot
perceive an obye<5l of fenfe, without believing that it exifts. He
cannot diftindly remember a paft event without believing that it

did

OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, £srV. 271

did exift. Belief therefore is an ingredient in confcioufnefs, in chap. XX.
perception, and in remembrance.

Not only in moft of our intelle<flual operations, but in many of
the atflive principles of the human mind, belief enters as an ingre-
dient. Joy and forrow, hope and fear, imply a belief of good or
ill, either prefent or in expe(!llation. Efteem, gratitude, pity, and
refentment, imply a belief of certain qualities in their objedts. In
every adlion that is done for an end, there muft be a belief of its
tendency to that end. So large a Ihare has belief in our intel-
ledlual operations, in our a(5live principles, and in our acflions
themfelves, that as faith in things divine is reprefented as the main
fpring in the life of a Chriftian, fo belief in general is the main
fpring in the life of a man.

That men often believe what there is no juft ground to believe^
and thereby are led into hurtful errors, is too evident to be denied:
And, on the other hand, that there are juft grounds of belief, can
as little be doubted by any man who is not a perfect fceptic.

We give the name of evidence to whatever is a ground of be-
lief. To believe without evidence is a weaknefs which every man
is concerned to avoid, and which every man wiflies to avoid. Nor
is it in a man's power to believe any thing longer than he thinks
he has evidence.

What this evidence is, is more eafily felt than defcribed. Thofe
who never refle(5led upon its nature, feel its influence in governing
their belief. It is the bufinefs of the Logician to explain its nature,
and to diftinguifh its various kinds and degrees ;. but every man
of underftanding can judge of it, and commonly judges right,
when the evidence is fairly laid before him, and his mind i-s free
from prejudice. A man who knows nothing of the theory of vi-
iion, may have a good eye ; and a man who never fpeculated about
evidence in tlie abftra(5l, may have a good judgment.

The

^72

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XX. The common occafions of life lead us to dlftlnguifli evidence In-
to different kinds, to which we give names that are well under-
ftood ; fuch as the evidence of fenfe, the evidence of memory, the
evidence of confcioufnefs, the evidence of teftimony, the evidence
of axioms, the evidence of reafoning : All men of common under-
ftanding agree, that each of thefe kinds of evidence may afford
jufl; ground of belief, and they agree very generally in the circum-
ftances that flrengthen or weaken them,

Philofophers have endeavoured by analyfing the different forts
of evidence, to find out fome common nature wherein they all
agree, and thereby to reduce them all to one. This was the aim
of the fchoolmen in their intricate difputes about the criterion of
truth. Des Cartes placed this criterion of truth in clear and di-
ftin(fl perception, and laid it down as a maxim, that whatever we
clearly and diflin(5lly perceive to be true, is true ; but it is difficult
to know what he underftands by clear and diftin6l perception in
this maxim. Mr Locke placed it in a perception of the agreement
or difagreement of our ideas, which perception is immediate in in-
tuitive knowledge, and by the intervention of other ideas in rea-
foning.

I confefs that, although I have, as I think, a diftin<5l notion of
the different kinds of evidence above mentioned, and perhaps of
fome others, which it is unneceffary here to enumerate, yet I am
not able to find any common nature to which they may all be re-
duced. They feem to me to agree only in this, that they are all
fitted by Nature to produce belief in the human mind, fome of
them in the highefl degree, which we call certainty, others in va-
rious degrees according to circumflances.

I fhall take it for granted, that the evidence of fenle, when the
proper circumflances concur, is good evidence, and a jufl ground
of belief. My intention in this place is only to compare it with
the other kinds that have been mentioned, that we may judge

whether

OFTHEEVIDENCEOFSENSE, y^. 273

•whether it be reducible to any of them, or of a nature peculiar to i^
itfelf.

Fir/^, It feems to be quite different from the evidence of reafon-
ing. All good evidence is commonly called reafonable evidence,
and very juftly, becaufe it ought to govern our belief as reafon-
able creatures. And, according to this meaning, I think the evi-
dence of fenfe no lefs reafonable than that of demonftration. If
Nature give us information of things that concern us, by other
means than by reafoning, reafon itfelf will dire6l us to receive
that information with thankfulnefs, and to make the bed ufe of it.

But when we fpeak of the evidence of reafoning as a particular
kind of evidence, it means the evidence of propofitions that are in-
ferred by reafoning, from propofitions already known and believed.
Thus the evidence of the fifth propofition of the firft book of
Euclid's Elements confifts in this. That it is (hown to be the ne-
cefTary confequence of the axioms, and of the preceding propofi-
tions. In all reafoning, there mufl be one or more premi fes, and
a conclufion drawn from them. And the premi fes are called the
reafon why we mufl believe the conclufion which we fee to follow
from them.

That the evidence of fenfe is of a different kind, needs little
proof. No man feeks a reafon for believing what he feps or feels ;
and if he did, it would be difficult to find one. But though he
can give no reafon for believing his fenfes, his belief remains as
firm as if it were grounded on demonftration.

Many eminent Philofophers thinking it unreafonable to believe,
when they could not fhovy a reafon, have laboured to furnifh us
with reafons for believing our fenfes ; but their reafons are very
infufficient, and will not bear examination. Other Philofophers
have fhewn very clearly the fallacy of thefe reafons, and have, as
they imagine, difcovered invincible reafons againft this belief j but

M m they

CHAP. XX.
V '

374 ESSAY II.

CHAP.xx. they have never been able either to fhake it in themfelves, or to
convince others. The flatefman continues to plod, the foldier to
fight, and the merchant to export and import, without being in
the leaft moved by the demonflrations that have been offered of
the non-exiftence of thofe things about which they are fo feriouf^
ly employed. Atld a man may as foon, by reafoning, pull the
moon out of her orbit, as deftroy the belief of the objeds of
fenfe.

Shall we fay 'then that the evidence of fenfe is the fame with
that of axioms, or felf-evident truths ? I anfwer,7?r/?. That all mo-
dern Philofophers feem to agree, that the exiftence of the objedls
of fenfe is not felf-evident, becaufe fome of them have endeavour-
ed to prove it hy fubtile reafoning, others to refute it. Neither of
thef^ can confid^r it as felf-evident.

Secondly, I would obferve, that the -word axiom is taken by Phi-
lofophers in fuch a fenfe, as that the exiftence of the obje<5ls of fenfe
cannot, with propriety, be called an axiom. They give the name
of axiom only to lelf-evident truths that are neceflary, and are not
limited to time and place, but muft be true at all times, and in all
places. The truths attefted by our fenfes are not of this kind j
they are contingent, and limited to time and place.

Thus, , that "one is the half of two, is an axiom. It is equally
true at all times, and in all places. We perceive, by attending to
the propofition itfelf, that it cannot but be true ; and therefore it
is called an eternal, neceiTary and immutable truth. That there is
at prefent a chair on my right hand, and another on my left, is a
truth attefted by my fenfes ; but it is not neceffary, nor eternal,
nor immutable. It may not be true next minute ; and therefore,
to call it an axiom, would, I apprehend, be to deviate from the
common ufe of the word.

Thirdly, If the word axiom be put to ftgnify every truth which

is

OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, ^dc. 275

is known immediately, without being deduced from any antece- CHAP. XX.
dent truth, then the exiflence of the objedls of fenfe may be call-
ed an axiom. For my fenfes give me as immediate convidtion of
what they teftify, as my underflanding gives of what is commonly
called an axiorri.

There is no doubt an analogy between the evidence of fenfe and
the evidence of teftimony. Hence we find in all languages the
analogical expreffions of the teftimony of fenfe y of giving credit to
our fenfes, and the like. But there is a real difference between
the two, as well as a fimilitude. In believing upon teftimony, we
rely upon the authority of a perfbn who teftifies : But we have no
fuch authority for believing our fenfes.

Shall we fay then that this belief is the infpiration of the Al-
mighty ? I think this may be faid in a good fenfe ; for I take it to
be the immediate effe<5l of our conftitution, which is the work of
the Almighty. But if infpiration be underftood to imply a per-
fuafion of its coming from God, our belief of the objedls of fenfe
is not infpiration ; for a man would believe his fenfes though he
had no notion of a Deity. He who is perfuaded that he is the
workmanfhip of God, and that it is a part of his conftitution to
believe his fenfes, may think that a good reafon to confirm his be-
lief: But he had the belief before he could give this or any other
reafon for it.

If we compare the evidence of fenfe with that of memory, we
find a great refemblance, but ftill fome difference. I remember
diftindlly to have dined yefterday with fuch a company. What is
the meaning of this ? it is, that I have a diftindl conception and
firm belief of this paft event ; not by reafoning, not by teftimo-
ny, but immediately from my conftitution : And I give the name
of memory to that part of my conftitution, by which I have this
kind of convi(flion of paft events.

M m 2 1

276 ESSAY II.

"V-

CHAPXX. I fee a chair on my right hand. What is the meaning of this ?
it is, that I have; by my conllitution, a diftincfl conception and
firm belief of the prefent exigence of the chair in fuch a place,
and in fuch a pofition; and I give the name of feeing to that part
of my conftitution, by which I have this immediate convidliom
The two operations agree in the immediate convi(5lion which they
give. They agree in this alfo, that the things believed are not ne-
ceflary, but contingent, and limited to time and place. But they
differ in two refpedls ; firjl^ That memory has fomething for its
objedl that did exift in time pafl; ; but the objedl of fight, and of
all the fenfes, muft be fomething which exifts at prefent. And,,
Jecondly, That I fee by my eyes, and only when they are direded
to the obje(5t, and when it is illuminated. But my memory is not
limited by any bodily organ that I know, nor by light and dark-
nefs, though it has its limitations of another kind.

Thefe differences are obTious ta all men, and very reafonably
lead them to confider feeing and remembering as operations fpe-
cifically different. But the nature of the evidence they give has
a great refemblance. A like difference and a like refemblance there
is between the evidence of i fenfe and that of confcio.ufnefs, which
I leave the reader to trace.

As to the opinion, that evidence confifls in a perception of the
agreement or difagreement of ideas, we may have occafion to con-
fider it more particularly in another place. Here I only obferve,
that, when taken in the moll favourable fenfe, it may be applied
with propriety to the evidence of reafoning, and to the evidence
of fome axioms. But 1 cannot fee how, in any fenfe, it can be
applied to the evidence of confcioufnefs, to the evidence of me-
mory, or to that of the fenfes.

When I compare the different kinds of evidence above mention-
ed, I confefs, after all, that the evidence of reafoning, and that of
fome neceffary and fclf-evident truths, fcems to be the lead myfte-

rious.

OF THE EVIDENCE OF SENSE, Ssff. 277

rious, and the moft perfexflly comprehended ; and therefore I do chap. XX.
not think it ilrange that Philofophers fhould have endeavoured to
reduce all kinds of evidence to thefe.

When I fee a propoficion to be felf-evident and necefTary, and
that the fubjedl is plainly included in the predicate, there feems to
be nothing more that I can defire, in order to underftand why I
believe it. And when 1 fee a confequence that necefTarily follows
from one or more felf-evident propofitions, I want nothing more
with regard to my belief of that confequence. The light of truth
fo fills my mind in thefe cafes, that I can neither conceive, nor de-
fire any thing more fatisfying.

On the other hand, when I remember diftindlly a paft event, or
fee an objedt before my eyes, this commands my belief no lefs than
an axiom. But whei;i, as a Philofopher, I reflecfl upon this belief^
and want to trace it to its origin, I am not able to refolve it into
necefiary and felf-evident axioms, or conclufions that are neceflari-
ly confequent upon them. I feem to want tlaat evidence which I
can beft comprehend, and which gives perfedl fatisfadlion to an in-
quifitive mind ; yet it is ridiculous to doubt, and I find it is not in
my power. An attempt to throw off this belief, is like an attempt
to fly, equally ridiculous and impra(5licable.

To a Philofopher, who has been accuftomed to think that the
treafure of his knowledge is the acquifition of that reafoning
power of which he boafts, it is no doubt humiliating to find, that
his reafon can lay no claim to the greater part of it.

By his reafon, he can difcover certain abftradl and neceffary re-
lations of things : But his knowledge of what really exlfts, or did
exift, comes by another channel, which is open to thofe who can-
not reafon. He is led to it in the dark, and knows not how he
came by it.

278 ESSAY II.

CHAP XX. It is no wonder that the pride of philofophy fhould lead fome
to invent vain theories, in order to account for this knowledge ;
and others, who fee this to be impradlicable, to fpurn at a know-
ledge they cannot account for, and vainly attempt to throw it off,
as a reproach to their underftanding. But the wife and the humble
will receive it as the gift of Heaven, and endeavour to make the
beft ufe of it.

CHAP. XXI.

Of the Improvement of the Senfes.

OUR fenfes may be confidered in two views ;^(y?, As they
afford us agreeable fenfations, or fubjedl us to fuch as are
difagreeable ; and, fecondlyy As they give us information of things
that concern us.

In \i\tfrji view, they nerther require nor admit of improvement.
Both the painful and the agreeable fenfations of our external fenfes
are given by nature for certain ends ; and they are given in that
degree which is the mofl proper for their end. By diminilhing or
increafing them, we flaould not mend, but mar the work of Nature.

Bodily pains are indications of fome diforder or hurt of the bo-
dy, and admonitions to ufe the beft means in our power to pre-
vent or remove their caufes. As far as this can be done by tem-
perance, exercife, regimen, or the fkill of the phyfician, every
man hath fufficient inducement to do it.

When pain cannot be prevented or removed, it is greatly alle-
viated by patience and fortitude of mind. While the mind is fu-
perior to pain, the man is not unhappy, though he may be exer-
cifed. It leaves no fling behind it, but rather matter of triumph

and

OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 279

and agreeable refledlion, when borne properly, and In a good^^'^^-^^J'
caufe. The Canadians have taught us, that even favages may ac-
quire a fuperiority to the mod excruciating pains ; and, in every
region of the earth, inftances will be found, where a fenfe of duty,
of honour, or even of worldly intereft, have triumphed over it.

It is evident, that Nature intended for man, in his prefent
flate, a life of labour and toil, wherein he may be occafionally ex-
pofed to pain and danger : And the happieft man is not he who
has felt leaft of thofe evils, but he whofe mind is fitted to bear
them by real magnanimity.

Our adllve and perceptive powers are improved and perfecfled by
ufe and exercife. This is the conflitution of Nature. But, with
regard to the agreeable and difagreeable fenfations we have by our
fenfes, the very contrary is an eftabliflied conftitution of Nature :
The frequent repetition of them weakens their force. Senfations
at firft very difagreeable, by ufe become tolerable, and at laft per-
fe<5lly indifferent. And thofe that are at firft very agreeable, by
frequent repetition become infipid, and at laft perhaps give difguft.
Nature has fet limits to the pleafures of fenfe, which we cannot
pafs ; and all ftudied gratifications of them, as it is mean and un-
worthy of a man, fo it is fooliih and fruitless.

The man who, in eating and drinking, and in other gratifica-
tions of fenfe, obeys the calls of Nature, without affeding delica-
cies and refinements, has all the enjoyment that the fenfes can af-
ford. If one could, by a foft and luxurious life, acquire a more
delicate fenfibility to pleafure, it muft be at the expence of a like
fenfibility to pain, from which he can never promife exemption ;
and at the expence of cherifliing many dileafes which produce pain.

The improvement of our external fenfes, as they are the means
of giving us information, is a fubje(5l more worthy of our atten-
tion : For although they are not the ncbleft and moft exalted

powers

28o ESSAY II.

CHAP. XXI. powers of our nature, yet they are not the leafl ufeful. All that
we know or can know of the material world, mufl be grounded
upon their information ; and the Philofopher, as well as the day-
labourer, muft be indebted to them for the largeft part of his
knowledge.

Some of our perceptions by the fenfes may be called original,
becaufe they require no previous experience or learning ; but the
far greateft part is acquired, and the fruit of experience.

Three of our fenfes, to wit, fmell, tafte, and hearing, originally
give us only certain fenfations, and a convicSlion that thefe fenfa-
tioris are occafioned by fome external objedl. We give a name to
that quality of the objedl by which it is fitted to produce fuch a
fenfation, and conned that quality with the objedl, and with its
other qualities.

Thus we learn, that a certain fenfation of fmell is produced by
a rofe ; and that quality in the rofe, by which it is fitted to pro-
duce this fenfation, we call the fmell of the rofe. Here it is evi-
dent that the fenfation is original. The perception, that the rofe
has that quality, which we call its fmell, is acquired. In like
manner, we learn all thofe qualities in bodies, which we call their
fmell, their tafte, their found. Thefe are all fecondary qualities,
and we give the fame name to them, which we give to the fenfa-
tions they produce ; not from any fimilitude between the fenfation
and the quality of the fame name, but becaufe the quality is fig-
nified to us by the fenfation as its fign, and becaufe our fenfes give
us no other knowledge of the quality, but that it is fit to produce
fuch a fenfation.

By the other two fenfes, we have much more ample informa-
tion. By fight, we learn to diftinguifh obje<fls bye heir colour, in
the fame laianner as by their found, tafte, and fmell. By this fenfe,
we perceive vifible obje(5ls to have extenfion in two dimenfions, to

have

OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 281

have vifible figure and magnitude, and a certain angular diftance CHAr. XXI.
from one another. Thefe I conceive are the original perceptions
of fight.

By touch, v^e not only perceive the temperature of bodies as to
heat and cold, which are fecondary qualities, but we perceive ori-
ginally their three dimenfions, their tangible figure and magni-
tude, their linear diftance from one another, their hardnefs, foft-
nefs, or fluidity. Thefe qualities we originally perceive by touch
only ; but, by experience, we learn to perceive all or moft of them
by fight.

We learn to perceive, by one fenfe, what originally could have
been perceived only by another, by finding a connedlion between
the objetfls of the different fenfes. Hence the original perceptions,
or the fenfations of one fenfe become figns of whatever has always
been found connedled with them ; and from the fign the mind
paffes immediately to the conception and belief of the thing figni-
fied : And although the connedlion in the mind between the fign,
and the thing fignified by it, be the efFedl of cuftom, this cuftom
becomes a fecond nature, and it is difficult to diftinguifh it from
the original power of perception.

Thus, if a fphere of one uniform colour be fet before me, I per-
ceive evidently by ray eye its fpherical figure, and its three dimen-
fions. All the world will acknowledge, that by fight only, with-
out touching it, I may be certain that it is a fphere ; yet it is no
lefs certain, that, by the original power of fight, I could not per-
ceive it to be a fphere, and to have three dimenfions. The eye
originally could only perceive two dimenfions, and a gradual varia-
tion of colour on the different fides of the obje(5l.

It is experience that teaches me that the variation of colour is an
cfFedl of fpherical convexity, and of the diftribution of light and
fhade. But fo rapid is the progrefs of the thought, from the effedl

N n to

282 ESSAY II.

CHAF.xxr. to the caufe, that we attend only to the lafl, and can hardly he
perfuaded that we do not immediately fee the three dimenfions of
the fphere.

Nay, it may be obferved, that, in this cafe, the acquired per-
ception in a manner effaces the original one ; for the fphere is (hen
to be of one uniform colour, though originally there would have
appeared a gradual variation of colour : But that apparent varia-
tion, we learn to interpret as the effecfl of light and fhade falling
upon a fphere of one uniform colour.

A fphere may be painted upon a plane, fo exadlly, as to be ta-
ken for a real fphere, when the eye is at a proper diftance, and in
the proper point of view. We fay in this cafe, that the eye is de-
ceived, that the appearance is fallacious : But there is no fallacy in
the original perception, but only in that which is acquired by
cuftom. The variation of colour, exhibited to the eye by the
painter's art, is the fame which Nature exhibits by the different
degrees of light falling upon the convex furface of a fphere.

In perception, whether original or acquired, there is fomething
which may be called the fign, and fomething which is fignified to
us, or brought to our knowledge by that fign.

In original perception, the figns are the various fenfations which
are produced by the impreffions made upon our organs. The
things fignified, are the objedts perceived in confequence of thofe
fenfations, by the original conftitution of our nature.

Thus, when I grafp an ivory ball in my hand, I have a certain
fenfation of touch. Although this fenfation be in the mind, and
have no fimilitude to any thing material, yet, by the laws of my
conftitution, it is immediately followed by the conception and
belief, that there is in my hand a hard fmooch body of a fpheri-
cal figure, and about an inch and a half in diameter. This belief

is

OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 283

is grounded neither upon reafoning, nor upon experience ; it is the CHAP.Xxr.
immediate effedl of my conftitution, and this I call original per-
ception.

In acquired perception, the fign may be either a fenfatlon, or
fomething originally perceived. The thing fignified, is fomething,
which, by experience, has been found connedled with that fign.

Thus, when the ivory ball is placed before my eye, I perceive
by fight what I before perceived by touch, that the ball is fmooth,
fpherical, of fuch a diameter, and at fuchadiftance from the eye;
and to this Is added the perception of its colour. All thefe things
I perceive by fight diftindlly, and with certainty : Yet it is certain
from principles of philofophy, that if I had not been accuftomed
to compare the informations of fight with thofe of touch, I iliould
not have perceived thefe things by fight. I fliould have perceived
a circular objedl, having its colour gradually more faint towards
the fliaded fide. But I fliould not have perceived it to have three
dimenfions, to be fpherical, to be of fuch a linear magnitude, and
at fuch a diflance from the eye. That thefe laft mentioned are not
original perceptions of fight, but acquired by experience, is faffi-
ciently evident from the principles of optics, and from the art of
painters, in painting objects of three dimenfions, upon a plane
which has only two. And it has been put beyond all doubt, by
obfcrvations recorded of feveral perfons, who having, by cataradls
in their eyes, been deprived of fight from their infancy, have been
couched and made to fee, after they came tp years of under-
ftandlng. ^

Thofe who have had their eyefight from infancy, acquire fuch
perceptions fo early, that they cannot recolledl the time when they
had them not, and therefore make no diftlndiion between thein
and their original perceptions ; nor can they be eafily perfuaded,
that there is any jufl foundation for fuch a difllndllon. In all
languages men fpeak with equal afiTurance of their feeing objects to

N n 2 be

284 E S S A Y n.

CHAP. XXI. be fpherical or cubical, as of their feeling them to be fo ; nor do
they ever dream, that thcfe perceptions of fight were not as early
and original as the perceptions they have of the fame objedts by
touch.

This power which we acquire of perceiving things by our fenfes,
which originally we lliould not have perceived, is not the effe(5t of
any reafoning on our part : It is the refult of our conftitution, and
of the fituations in which we happen to be placed.

We are fo made, that when two things are found to be conjoin-
ed in certain circumftances, we are prone to believe that they are
connedled by nature, and will always be found together in like
circumflances. The belief which we are led into in fuch cafes is
not the effedl of reafoning, nor does it arife from intuitive evidence
in the thing believed ; it is, as I apprehend, the immediate eftedt
of our conftitution : Accordingly it is ftrongeft in infancy, before
our reafoning power appears, before we are capable of drawing a
conclufion from premifes. A child who has once burnt his finger
in a candle, from that fingle inftance cohneds the pain of burn-
ing with putting his finger in the candle, and believes that thefe
two things muft go together. It is obvious, that this part of our
conft;itution is of very great ufe before we come to the ufe of reafon,
and guards us from a thoufand mifchiefs, which, without it, we
would rulh into ; it may fometimes lead us into error, but the
good effedls of it far overbalance the ill.

It is, no doubt, the perfedion of a rational being to have no be-
lief but what is grounded on intuitive evidence, or on juft reafon-
ing : But man, I apprehend, is not fuch a being ; nor is it the in-
tention of Nature that he fliould be fuch a being, in every period
of his exiftence. We come into the world without the exercife of
reafon ; we are merely animal before we are rational creatures ; and
it is neceflary for our prefervation, that we Ihould believe many
things before we can reafon. How then is our belief to be regu-
lated

OF THE IIVIPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 285

lated before we have reafon to regulate it ? has Nature left it to be CHAP, xxr.
regulated by chance ? By no means. It is regulated by certain
principles, which are parts of our conftitution ; whether they ought
to be called animal principles, or inftin6llve principles, or what
name we give to them, is of fmall moment ; but they are certainly
different from the faculty of reafon : They do the ofBce of reafon
while it is in its infancy, and muft as it were be carried in a nurfe's
arms, and they are leading firings to it in its gradual progrefs.

From what has been faid, I think it appears, that our original
powers of perceiving objedls by our fenfes receive great improve-
ment by ufe and habit ; and without this improvement, would be
altogether infufEcient for the purpofes of life. The daily occur-
rences of hfe not only add to our flock of knowledge, but give ad-
ditional perceptive powers to our fenfes ; and time gives us the ufe
of our eyes and ears, as well as of our hands and legs.

This is the greatefl and mofl important improvement of our ex-
ternal fenfes. It is to be found in all men come to years of un-
derftanding, but is variotis in different perfons according to their
different occupations, and the different circumftances in which they
are placed. Every artifl acquires an eye as well as a hand in his
own profeffion : His eye becomes fkilled in perceiving, no lefs than
his hand in executing, what belongs to his employment.

Befides this improvement of our fenfes which nature produces
without our intention, there are various ways in which they may
be improved, or their defedls remedied by art. As, firjl^ by a due
care of the organs of fenfe that they be in a found and natural ftate.
This belongs to the department of the Medical Faculty.

Secondly^ By accurate attention to the objedls of fenfe. The ef-
fects of fuch attention in improving our fenfes appear in every art.
The artift by giving more attention to certain objcdls than others
do, by that means perceives many things in thofe objedls which

others

286 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XX I. others do not. Thofe who happen to be deprived of one fenfe,
frequently fupply that defedl in a great degree, by giving more ac-
curate attention to the objecfts of the fenfes they have. The blind
have often been known to acquire uncommon acutenefs in diftln-
gulflaing things by feeling and hearing ; and the deaf are uncom-
monly quick in reading mens thoughts in their countenance.

A third way in which our fenfes admit of improvement, is, by
additional organs or inflruments contrived by art. By the inven-
tion of optical glaffes, and the gradual Improvement of them, the
natural power of vifion is wonderfully Improved, and a vafl addi-
tion made to the flock of knowledge which we acquire by the eye.
By fpeaklng trumpets, and ear trumpets, fome improvement has
been made in the fenfe of hearing. Whether by limilar inventions
the other fenfes may be improved, feems uncertain.

A fourth method by which the information got by our fenfes
may be improved, is, by difcoverlng the conne<5lion which Nature
hath eflablifhed between the fenfible qualities of objeds and their
more latent qualities.

By the fenfible qualities of bodies, I underftand thofe that are
perceived Immediately by the fenfes, fuch as their colour, figure,
feeling, found, tafte, fmell. The various modifications, and va-
rious combinations of thefe, are innumerable ; fo that there are
hardly two individual bodies in Nature that may not be dlftln-
guifhed by their fenfible qualities.

The latent qualities are fuch as are not immediately dlfcovered
by our fenfes ; but dlfcovered, fometimes by accident, fometlmes
by experiment or obfervatlon. The mofl important part of our
knowledge of bodies, is the knowledge of the latent quallcies of
the feveral fpecies, by which they are adapted to certain purpofes,
eithjer for food, or medicine, or agriculture, or for the materials or
utenfils of fome art or manufacflure.

I

OF THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE SENSES. 287

I am taught, that certain fpecies of bodies have certain latent CHAP.XXr,
qualities ; but how Ihall I know that this individual is of fuch a
fpecies ? This mull be known by the feniible qualities which cha-
radlerife the fpecies. I mud know that this is bread, and that
wine, before I eat the one or drink the other. I mufl know that
this is rhubarb, and that opium, before I ufe the one or the other
for medicine.

It is one branch of human knowledge to' know the names of
the various fpecies of natural and artificial bodies, and to know
the fenfible qualities by which they are afcertained to be of fuch
a fpecies, and by which they are diflinguifhed from one another.
It is another branch of knowledge to know the latent qualities of
the feveral fpecies, and the ufes to which they are fubfervient.

The man who pofTeffes both thefe branches, is informed by his '
fenfes of innumerable things of real moment, which are hid from
thofe who poilefs only one, or neither. This is an improvement
in the information got by our fenfes, which mufl keep pace with
the Improvements made in natural hiflory, in natural philofophy,
and in the arcs. - '• ■;:•'..•>•

It would be an improvement ftill higher, if we were able to
difcover any connedidn between the fenfible qualities of bodies
and their latent qualities, without knowing the fpecies, or what
may have been difcovered with regard to it.

Some Philofophers of the firfl rate have made attempts towards
this noble improvement, not without promifing hopes of fuccefs.
Thus the celebrated Linnjeus has attempted to point out certain
fenfible qualities by which a plant may very probably be conclu-
ded to be • poifonous, without knowing its name or fpecies. He
has given feveral other inflances, wherein certain medical and
ceconomical virtues of plants are indicated by their external ap-
pearances. Sir Isaac Newton hath attempted to fhow, that

from

288 ESSAY 11.

CHAP. XXI. from the colours of bodies we may form a probable conje<5lure
of the fize of their conftituent parts, by which the rays of light
are refledled.

No man can pretend to fet limits to the difcoveries that may be
made by human genius and induftry, of fuch conneiftions between
the latent and the fenfible qualities of bodies. A wide field here
opens to our view, whofe boundaries no man can afcertain, of
improvements that may hereafter be made in the information con-
veyed to us by our fenfes.

CHAP. XXII.

Of the Fallacy of the Senfes.

COMPLAINTS of the fallacy of the fenfes have been very com-
mon in ancient and in modern times, efpecially among the
Philofophers : And if we fliould take for granted all that they have
faid on this fubjedt, the natural conclufion from it might feem to
be, that the fenfes are given to us by fome malignant Dsemon on
purpofe to delude us, rather than that they are formed by the wife
and beneficent Author of Nature, to give us true information of
things neceflary to our prefervation and happinefs.

The whole fedl of Atomifts among the ancients, led by Demo-
CRiTUS, and afterwards by Epicurus maintained, that all the
qualities of bodies which the moderns call feconjlary qualities, te
wit, fmell, tafte, found, colour, heat and cold, are mere illufions
of fenfe, and have no real exiftence. Plato maintained that we
can attain no real knowledge of material things ; and that eter-
nal and immutable ideas are the only objeds of real knowledge.
The Academics and Sceptics anxioufly fought for arguments to
prove the fallacioufnefs of our fenfes, in order to fupport their fa-
vourite

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 289

vourite dodlrine, that even in things that feem moft evident, we Chap.xXH.
ought to with-hold aflent.

Among the Peripatetics we find frequent complaints that the
fenfes often deceive us, and that their teftimony is to be fufpeded,
when it is not confirmed by reafon, by which the errors of fenfe
may be corrected. This complaint they fupported by many com-
mon-place inftances ; fuch as, the crooked appearance of an oar
in water ; objeds being magnified, and their diftance miflaken in
a fog ; the fun and moon appearing about a foot or two in diame-
ter, while they are really thoufands of miles ; a fquare tower be-
ing taken at a diftance to be round. Thefe, and many fimilar ap-
pearances, they thought to be fufiiciently accounted for from the
fallacy of the fenfes : And thus the fallacy of the fenfes was ufed
as a decent cover to conceal their ignorance of the real caufes of
•fuch phenomena, and ferved the fame purpofe as their occult
qualities and fubftantial forms.

Des Cartes and his followers joined in the fame complaint.
Antony le Grand, a Philofopher of that fedl, in the firft chap-
ter of his Logic, exprefles the fentiments of the fe(S as foIlow§ :
" Since all our fenfes are fallacious, and we are frequently de-
" ceived by them, common reafon advifes, that we fhould not put
" too much truft in them, nay, that we fhould fufpe<5l falfehood in
" every thing they reprefent ; for it is imprudence and temerity
" to truft to thofe who have but once deceived us ; and if they err
" at any time, they may be believed always to err. They are
" given by Nature for this purpofe only, to warn us of what is
" ufeful and what is hurtful to us. The order of Nature is per-
" verted when we put them to any other ufe, and apply them for
" the knowledge of truth."

When we confider, that the adlive part of mankind, in all ages
from the beginning of the world, have refted their moft important
concerns ixpon the teftimony of fenfe, it will be very difiicult to

O o reconcile

ago ESSAY II.

CHAP. XX 11. reconcile their condudl with the fpeculative opinion fo generally
entertained of the fallacioufnefs of the fenfes. And it feems to
be a very unfavourable account of the workmanfhip of the Su-
preme Being, to think that he has given us one faculty to deceive
us, to wit, our fenfes, and another faculty, to wit, our reafon, to
dete(5l the fallacy.

It deferves, therefore, to be confidered, whether the fallacioufnefs
of our fenfes be not a common error, which men have been led in-
to, from a defire to conceal their ignorance, or to apologife for
their millakes. '

There are two powers which we owe to our external fenfes,
fenfation, and the perception of external objefls.

It is impollible that there can be any fallacy in fenfation : For
we are confcious of all our fenfations, and they can neither be any
other in their nature, nor greater or lefs in their degree than we
feel them. It is impoffible that a man fliould be in pain, when
he does not feel pain ; and when he feels pain, it is impoffible that
his pain Ihould not be real, and in its degree what it is felt to be ;
and the fame thing may be faid of every fenfation whatfoever.
An agreeable or an uneafy fenfation may be forgot when it is paft,
but when it is prefent, it can be nothing but what we feel.

If, therefore, there be any fallacy in our fenfes, it muft be in the
perception of external obje(5ls, which we Ihall next confider.

And here I grant that we can conceive powers of perceiving ex-
ternal obje<5ls more perfedl than ours, which, poffibly, beings of a
higher order may enjoy. We can perceive external obje(5ls only
by means of bodily organs ; and thefe are liable to various difor-
dcrs, which fomctimes affe£l our powers of perception. The
nerves and brain, which are interior organs of perception, are like-
wife liable to diforders, as every part of the human frame is.

The

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 29*

The imagination, the memory, the judging and reafoning pow- CHAP.XXII.
ers, are all liable to be hurt, or even deftroyed, by diforders of the
body, as well as our powers of perception ; but we do not on this
account call them fallacious.

Our fenfes, our memory, and our reafon, are all limited and
imperfedl : This is the lot of humanity : But they are fuch as the
Author of our being faw to be bed fitted for us in our prefent flate.
Superior natures may have intelledlual powers which we have not,
or fuch as we have, in a more perfecfl degree, and lefs liable to
accidental diforders : But we have no reafon to think that God has
given fallacious powers to any of his creatures : This would be to
think dilhonourably of our Maker, and would lay a foundation
for univerfal fcepticifm.

The appearances commonly imputed to the fallacy of the fenfes
are many, and of different kinds ; but I think they may be redu-
ced to the four following clalTes.

Firjl^ Many things called deceptions of the fenfes arc only con-
clufions rafhly drawn from the. teftimony of the fenfes. In thefe
cafes the teftimony of the fenfes is true, but we raftily draw a con-
clufion from it, which does not necefTarily follow. We are difpo-
fed to impute our errors rather to falfe information than to incon-
clufive reafoning, and to blame our fenfes for the wrong conclufions
we draw from their teftimony.

Thus, when a man has taken a counterfeit guinea for a true one,
he fays his fenfes deceived him ; but he lays the blame where it
ought not to be laid : For we may aflc him, Did your fenfes give
a falfe teftimony of the colour, or of the figure, or of the impref-
fion ? No. But this is all that they teftified, and this they teftified
truly : From thefe premifes you concluded that it was a true guinea,
but this conclufion does not follow ; you erred therefore, not by
relying upon the teftimony of fenfe, but by judging raflily from

O o 2 its

292

ESSAY II.

CHAP.XXII. its tefllmony : Not only are your fenfes innocent of this error, but
it is only by their information that it can be difcox'ered. If you
confult them properly, they will inform you that what you took
for a guinea is bafe metal, or is deficient in weight, and this can
only be known by the teftimony of fenfe.

1 remember to have met with a man who thought the ar-
gument ufed by Proteftants againft the Popifh dodlrine of tranfub-
llantiation, from the teftimony of our fenfes, inconclufive ; becaufe,
faid he, inflances may be given where feveral of our fenfes may de-
ceive us : How do we know thien that there may not be cafes where-
in they all deceive us, and no fenfe is left to deteA the fallacy ? I
begged of him to know an inftance wherein feveral of our fenfes
deceive us. I take, faid he, a piece of foft turf, I Cut it iftto the
Ihape of an apple ; with the eflence of apples, I give it the fmell of
an apple ; and with paint, I can give it the fkin and colour of an
apple. Here then is a body, which, if you jadge by your eye, by
your touch, or by your fmell, is an apple.

To this I would anfwer, that no one of our fenfes deceives us in
this cafe. My fight and touch teftify that it has the fhape and co-
lour of an apple : This is true. - The fenfe of fmetling teflifies that
it has the fmell of an apple : This is likewife true, and is no de-
ception. Where then lies the deception ? It is evident it lies in
this, that becaufe this body has fome qualities belonging to an
apple, I conclude that it is an apple. This is a fallacy, not of the
fenfes, but of inconclufive reafoning.

Many falfe judgments that are accounted deceptions of fenfe,
arife from our miflaking relative motion for real or abfolute mo-
tion. Thefe can be no deceptions of fenfe, becaufe by our fenfes
we perceive only the relative motions of bodies ; and it is by rea-
foning that we infer the real from the relative which we perceive.
A little refledion may fatisfy us of this.

It

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 293

It was before obferved, that we perceive extenfion to be one fen- CHAP.XXII.
fible quality of bodies, and thence are neceflarily led to conceive
fpace, though fpace be of itfelf no obje<5l of fenfe. When a body
is removed out of its place, the fpace which it filled remains empty
till it is filled by fome other body, and would remain if it fhould
never be filled. Before any body exifted, the fpace which bodies
Ii6w occupy was empty fpace, capable of receiving bodies ; for no
body can exift where there is no fpace to contain it. There is fpace
therefore wherever bodies exift, or can exift.

Hence it is evident that fpace can have no limits. It is no lefs
evident that it is immoveable. Bodies placed in it are moveable,
but the place where they were cannot be moved ; and we can as
eafily conceive a thing to be moved from itfelf, as one part of fpace
brought nearer to, or removed farther from another.

This fpace therefore which ia unlimited and immoveable, is called
by Philofophers abfolute fpace. Abfolute or real motion is a change
of place in abfolute fpace.

Our fenfes do not teftify the abfolute motion or abfolute reft of
any body. When one body removes from another, this may be
difcerned by the fenfes ; but whether any body keeps the fame pare
of abfolute fpace, we do not perceive by our fenfes : When one
body feems to remove from another, we can infer with certainty
that there is abfolute motion, but whether in the one or the 'other,
or partly in both, is not difcerned by fenfe.

Of all the prejudices which philofophy contradldls, I believe
there is none fo general as that the earth keeps its place unmoved.
This opinion feems to be univerfal, till it is correded by inftruc-
tion, or by philofophical fpeculation. Thofe who have any tinc-
ture of education are not now in danger of being held by it, but
they find at firft a relu(5tance to believe that there are antipodes ;
that the earth is fpherical, and turns round its axis every day, and

round

294

ESSAY II.

CHAP.xxii. lound the fun every year : They can recolle(5l the time when reafon
ftruggled with prejudice upon thefe points, and prevailed at length,
but not without fome effort.

The caufe of a prejudice fo very general is not unworthy of in-
veftigation. But that is not our prefent bufinefs. It is fufEcient
to obferve, that it cannot juftly be called a fallacy of fenfe ; becaufe
our fenfes teftify only the change of fituation of one body in rela-
tion to other bodies, and not its change of fituation in abfolute
fpace. It is only the relative motion of bodies that we perceive,
and that, we perceive truly. It is the province of reafon and phi-
lofophy, from the relative motions which we perceive, to colle<5l
the real and abfolute motions which produce them.

All motion muft be eftimated from fome point or place which is
fuppofed to be at reft. We perceive not the points of abfolute
fpace, from which real and abfolute motion muft be reckoned :
And there are obvious reafons that lead mankind in the ftate of
ignorance, to make the earth the fixed place from which they may
eftimate the various motions they perceive. The cuftom of doing
this from infancy, and of ufing conftantly a language which fup-
pofes the earth to be at reft, may perhaps be the caufe of the ge-
neral prejudice in favour of this opinion.

Thus it appears, that if we diftinguifti accurately between what
our fenfes really and naturally teftify, and the conclufions which
we draw from their teftimony by reafoning, we fliall find many of
the errors, called fallacies of the fenfes, to be no fallacy of the fen-
fes, but rafli judgments, which are not to be imputed to our
fenfes.

Secondly^ Another clafs of errors imputed to the fallacy of the
fenfes, are thofe which we are liable to in our acquired perceptions.
Acquired perception is not properly the teftimony of thofe fenfes
which God hath given us, but a conclufion drawn from what the

fenfes

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 295

fenfes teftify. In our pafl experience, we have found certain CHAP, xxif.
things conjoined with what our fenfes teftify. We are led by our
conftitution to expetfl this conjundlion in time to come ; and when
we have often found it in our experience to happen, we acquire a
firm behef, that the things which we have found thus conjoined
are conne(5led in nature, and that one is a fign of the other. The
appearance of the fign immediately produces the belief of its ufual
attendant, and we think we perceive the one as well as the other.

That fuch conclufions are formed even in infancy, no man can
doubt ; nor is it lefs certain that they are confounded with the na-
tural and immediate perceptions of fenfe, and in all languages are
called by the fame name. We are therefore authorifed by lan-
guage to call them perception, and muft often do fo, or fpeak un-
intelligibly. But philofophy teaches us in this, as in many other
inflances, to diflinguifli things which the vulgar confound. I have
therefore given the name of acquired perception to fuch conclu-
fions, to diflinguifh them from what is naturally, originally, and
immediately teflified by our fenfes. Whether this acquired per-
ception is to be refolved into fome procefs of reafoning, of which
we have loft the remembrance, as fome Philofophers think, or whe-
ther it refults from fome part of our conftitution diftind from rea-
fon, as I rather believe, does not concern the prefent fubjedl. If
the firft of thefe opinions be true, the errors of acquired percep-
tion will fall under the firft clafs before meiationed. If not, ic
makes a diftindl clafs by itfelf. But whether the one or the other
be true, it muft be obferved, that the errors of acquired percep-
tion are not properly fallacies of our fenfes.

Thus when a globe is fet before me^ I perceive by my eyes that
it has three dimenfions and a fpherical figure. To fay that this is
not perception, would be to rejedl the authority of cuftom in the
ufe of words, which no wife man will do : But that it is not the
teftimony of my fenfe of feeing, every Philofopher knows. I fee
only a circular form, having the light and colour diftributed in a

certaitt

296 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XXII. certain way over it. But being accuftomed to obferve this diftri-
bution of light and colour only in a fpherical body, I immediate-
ly, from what I fee, believe the objedl to be fpherical, and fay that
I fee or perceive it to be fpherical. When a painter, by an exa<5l
imitation of that diftribution of light and colour, which I have
been accuftomed to fee only in a real fphere, deceives me, fo as to
make me take that to be a real fphere, which is only a painted one,
the teftimony of my eye is true ; the colour and vifible figure of
the objedl is truly what I fee it to be : The error lies in the conclu-
fion drawn from what I fee, to wit, that the objedl has three di-
menfions and a fpherical figure. The conclufion is falfe in this
cafe ; but whatever be the origin of this conclufion, it is not pro-
perly the teftimony of fenfe.

To this clafs we muft refer the judgments we are apt to form of
the diftance and magnitude of the heavenly bodies, and of ter-
reftrial objedls feen on high. The miftakes we make of the mag-
nitude and diftance of objedls feen through optical glafl^es, or
through an atmofphere uncommonly clear, or uncommonly foggy,
belong likewife to this clafs.

The errors we are led into in acquired perception are very rare-
ly hurtful to us in the condudl of life ; they are gradually cor-
redled by a more enlarged experience, and a more perfedl know-
ledge of the laws of Nature : And the general laws of our confti-
tution, by which we are fometimes led into them, are of the great-
eft utility.

We come into the world ignorant of every thing, and by our
ignorance expofed to many dangers and to many miftakes. The
regular train of caufes and effedls, which Divine Wifdom has efta-
bliflied, and which diredls every ftep of our condudl in advanced
life, is unknown, until it is gradually difcovered by experience.

We muft learn much from experience before we can reafon, and

therefore

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 297

therefore mutt be liable to many errors. Indeed, I apprehend, CHAP, xxji.

that, in the firft part of life, reafon would do us much more hurt

than good. Were we fenfible of our condition in that period, and

capable of refleding upon it, we fliould be like a man in the dark,

furrounded with dangers, where every ftep he takes may be into a

pit. Reafon would direct him to fit down, and wait till he could

fee about hirii.

In like manner, if we fuppofe an infant endowed with reafon,
it would dire(5l him to do nothing, till he knew what could be done
with fafety. This he can only know by experiment, and experi-
ments are dangerous. Reafon diredls, that experiments that are
fulj of danger fhould not be made without a very urgent caufe.
It would therefore make the infant unhappy, and hinder his ira^
provement by experience.

Nature has followed another plan. The child, unapprehenfive
of danger, is led by inftindl to exert all his adlive powers, to try
every thing without the cautious admonitions of reafon, and to
believe every thing that is told him. Sometimes he fuffers by his
ralhnefs what reafon would have prevented : But his fuffering .
prc>ves a falutary difcipline, and makes him for the future avoid
the caufe of it. Sometimes he is impofed upon by his credulity ;
but it is of infinite benefit to him upon the whole. His adlivity
and credulity are more ufeful qualities, and better inftrudlors than
reafon would be ; they teach him more in a day than reafon would
do in a year ; they furnilh a ttock of materials for reafon to work
upon ; they make him eafy and happy in a period of his exiftence,
when reafon could only ferve to fuggeft a thoufand tormenting
anxieties and fears : And he a<5ls agreeably to the conftitution and
intention of Nature, even when he does and believes what reafon
would not juftify. So that the wifdom and goodnefs of the Au-
thor of Nature is no lefs confpicuous in with-holding the exercife
of our reafon in this period, than in bettowing it when we are
ripe for it.

P p A

298 E S S A Y II.

CHAP. XXII. A third clafs of errors, afcribed to the fallacy of the fenfes, pro-
ceeds from ignorance of the laws of Nature.

The laws of Nature (I mean not moral but phyiical laws) are
learned, either from our own experience, or the experience of
others, who have had occafion to obferve the courfe of Nature.

Ignorance of thofe laws, or inattention to them, is apt to occa-
fion falfe judgments with regard to the objedls of fenfe, efpecially
thofe of hearing and of fight ; which falfe judgments are often,
without good reafon, called fallacies of fenfe.

Sounds affedl the ear differently, according as the founding bo-
dy is before or behind us, on the right hand or on the left, near
or at a great diftance. We learn, by the manner in which the
found affedls the ear, on what hand we are to look for the found-
ing body ; and in mofl cafes we judge right. But we are fome-
times deceived by echos, or by whifpering galleries, or fpeaking
trumpets, which return the found, or alter its diredlion, or con-
vey it to a diftance without diminution.

The deception is flill greater, becaufe more uncommon, which
is faid to be produced by Gaftriloquifls, that is, perfons who have
acquired the art of modifying their voice, fo that it Ihall a.Se6\
the ear of the hearers, as if it came from another perfon, or from
the clouds, or from under the earth.

I never had the fortune to be acquainted with any of thefe ar-
tifls, and therefore cannot fay to what degree of perfecflion the art
may have been carried.

I apprehend it to be only fuch an imperfedl imitation as may
deceive thofe who are inattentive, or under a panic. For if it
could be carried to perfedlion, a Gaftriloquifl would be as danger-
ous a man in fociety as was the fliepherd Giges, who, by turning

a .

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 299

a ring upon his finger, could make himfelf Invifible, and by that CIIAP. xxii.
means, from being the King's fhepherd, became King of Lydia.

If the Gaftriloquifts have all been too good men to ufe their ta-
lent to the detriment of others, it might at leafl: be expeded that
fbrae of them ftiould apply it to their own advantage. If it could
be brought to any confiderable degree of perfedlion, it feems to be
as proper an engine for drawing money by the exhibition of it, a&
legerdemain or rope-dancing. But I have never heard of any ex-
hibition of this kind, and therefore am apt to think that it is too
coarfe an imitation to bear exhibition even to the vulgar.

Some are faid to have the art of imitating the voice of another
lb exadlly, that in the dark they might be taken for the perfon
whofe voice they imitate. I am apt to think, that this art alfo, in
the relations made of it, is magnified beyond the truth, as won-
derful relations are apt to be, and that an attentive ear would be
able to diftinguifli the copy from the original.

It is indeed a wonderful inftance of the accuracy as well as of
the truth of our fenfes, in things that are of real ufe in life, that
we are able to diflingulfh all our acquaintance by their counte- •
nance, by their voice, and by their hand-writing, when at the
fame time we are often unable to fay by what minute difference
the diftin<5lion is made j and that we are fo very rarely deceived in.
matters of this kind, when we give proper attention to the infor-
mations of fenfe.

However, if any cafe fhould happen, in which founds produ-
ced by different caufes are not di(linguifhable by the ear, this may
prove that our fenfes are imperfedV, but not tliat they are fallaci-
ous. The ear may not be able to draw the jufl conclufion, but it
is only our ignorance of the laws of found that leads us to a wrong
conclufion.

P p a Deceptions

500

ESSAY II.

CHAP. XXH. Deceptions of fight, arifing from ignorance of the laws of Nature,
are more numerous, and more remarkable than thofe of hearing.

The rays of light, which are the means of feeing, pafs in right
lines from the objed to the eye, when they meet with no obflruc-
tion ; and we are by Nature led to conceive the vifible object to be
in the direclion of the rays that come to the eye. But the rays
may be refleded, refraded, or infleded in their paflage from the
object to the eye, according to certain fixed laws of Nature, by
which means their diredion may be changed, and confequently
the apparent place, figure, or magnitude of the objed.

Thus a child feeing himfelf in a mirror, thinks he fees another
child behind the mirror, that imitates all his motions. But even
a child foon gets the better of this deception, and knows that he
fees himfelf only.

All the deceptions made by telefcopes, microfcopes, camera ob-
fcuras, magic lanthorns, are of the fame kind, though not fo fa-
miliar to the vulgar. The ignorant may be deceived by them ;
but to thofe who are acquainted with the principles of optics, they
give jufl and true information, and the laws of Nature by which
they are produced are of infinite benefit to anankind.

There remains another clafs of errors, commonly called decep-
tions of fenfe, and the only one, as I apprehend, to which that
name can be given with propriety : I mean fuch as proceed from
fome diforder or preternatural (late, either of the external organ,
or of the nerves and brain, which are internal organs of perception.

In a delirium, or in madnefs, perception, memory, imagination,
and our reafoning powers, are ftrangely difordered and confound-
ed. There are likewife difbrders which affed fome 6f our fenfes,
while others are found. Thus, a man may feel pain in his toes
after the leg is cut oflf. He may feel a little ball double by crof-

fing

OF THE FALLACY OF THE SENSES. 3°i

fing his fingers. He may fee an object double, by not di-
redling both eyes properly to it. By prefling the ball of his eye,
he may fee colours that are not real. By the jaundice in his eyes,
he may miftake colours. Thefe are more properly deceptions of
fenfe than any of the clafTes before mentioned.

"We mufl acknowledge it to be the lot of human nature, that all
the human faculties are liable, by accidental caufes, to be hurt
and unfitted for their natural fundlions, either wholly or in part :
But as this imperfedlion is common to them all, it gives no jufl
ground for accounting any of them fallacious.

Upon the whole, it feems to have been a common error of Phi-
lofophers to account the fenfes fallacious. And to this error they
have added another, that one ufe of reafon is to dete<fl the falla-
cies of fenfe.

' '."rj :'o/
It appears, I think, from what has been faid, that there is no

more reafon to account our fenfes fallacious, than our reafon, our
memory, or any other faculty of judging which Nature hath given
us. They are all limited and imperfed ; but wifely fuited to the
prefent condition of man. We are liable to error and wrong
judgment in the ufe of them all ; but as little in the informations
of fenfe as in the dedudlions of reafoning. And the errors we
fall into with regard to obje(5ts of fenfe are not corrected by rea-
fon, but by more accurate attention to the informations we may
receive by our fenfes themfelves.

Perhaps the pride of Philofophers may have given occafion to
this error. Reafon is the faculty wherein they aflume a fuperio-
rity to the unlearned. The informations of fenfe are common to
the Philofopher and to the mod illiterate : They put all men upon
a level ; and therefore are apt to be undervalued. We mufl, how-
ever, be beholden to the informations of fenfe for the greatefl and
moft interefling part of our knowledge. The wifdom of Nature

has

CHAP.XXIL
"> ., '

302 ESSAY II.

CHAP;XXTI. ]|as made the mofl ufeful things mofi: common, and they ouglxt
not to be defpifed on that account. Natvire Ukewife forces our be-
lief in thofe informations, and all the attempts of philofophy to
weaken it are fruitlefs and vain.

I add only one obfervation to what has been fald upon this fub-
jeifT.' It is, that there feems to be a contradidlion between what
Philofophers teach concerning ideas, and their docflrine of the fal-
lacioufnefs of the fenfes. We are taught that the office of the
fenfes is only to give lis the ideas of external objecfls. If this be
fo, there can be no fallacy in the fenfes. Ideas can neither be true
nor falfe. If the fenfes teflify nothing, they cannot give falfe
teflimony. If they are not judging faculties, no judgment can
be irhputed to tliem, whether falfe or true. There is, therefore,
a contradi(5lion between the common doctrine concerning ideas
and that of the fallacioufnefs of the fenfes. Both may be falfe,.
as I believe they are, but both cannot be true.

ESSAY

CHAP. r.

V u '

ESSAY III.

OFMEMORY.

C H A P. I.

' 'Things obvious and certain with regard to Memory.

IN the gradual progrefs of man, from infancy to maturity, there
is a certain order in which his faculties are unfolded, and this
feems to be the befl order we can follow in treating of them.

The external fenfes appear firft ; memory foon follows, which
we are now to confider.

It is by memory that we have an immediate knowledge of things
paft : The fenfes give us information of things only as they exift
in the prefent moment ; and this information, if it were not pre-
ferved by memory, would vanifh inftantly, and leave us as igno-
rant as if it had never been.

Memory muft have an objedl. Every man who remembers muft
remember fomething, and that which he remembers is called the
obje6l of his remembrance. In this, memory agrees with percep-
tion, but differs from fenfation, which has no obje(51: but the feel-
ing itfelf.

Every man can diftinguifh the thing remembered from the re-
membrance of it. We may remember any thing which we have

feen,

304

ESSAY III.

CHAP. I. feen, or heard, or known, or done, or fufFered : but the remem-
brance of it is a particular aifl of the mind which now exifts, and
of which we are confcious. To confound thefe two is an abfur-
dity, which a thinking man could not be led into, but by fome
falfe hypothefis which hinders him from refledling upon the thing
which he would explain by it.

In memory we do not find fuch a train of operations connedted
by our conftitution as in perception. When we perceive an objetfl
by our fenfes, there is, firft, fome impreffion made by the objedl
upon the organ of fenfe, either immediately or by means of fome
medium. By this an impreffion is made upon the nerves and
brain, in confequence of which we feel fome fenfation j and that
fenfation is attended by that conception and belief of the external
object which we call perception. Thefe operations are fo con-
nedled in our conftitution, that it is difficult to disjoin them in our
conceptions, and to attend to each without confounding it with the
others. But in the operations of memory we are free from this
embarraffinent ; they are eafily diftinguiflied from all other ajfls of
the mind, and the names which denote them ai^e free from alii
ambiguity^

The obje<5l of memory, or thing remembered, muft be fome-
thing that is paft j as the objedl of perception and of confcioufnefs
muft be fomething which is prefent : What now is, cannot be an
obje<Sl of memory ; neither can that which is paft and gone be an
cbje(5l of perception or of confcioufnefs.

Memory is always accompanied with the belief of that which
we remember, as perception is accompanied with the belief of that
wliich we perceive, and confcioufnefs with the belief of that
whereof we are confcious. Perhaps in infancy, or in a diforder of
mind, things remembered may be confounded with thofe which are
merely imagined; but in mature years, and in a found ftate of mind,,
every man feels that he muft believe what he diftindly remembers,

though

THINGS OBVIOUS WITH REGARD TO MEMORY.

305

though he can give no other reafon of his belief, but that he re- CHAP. I.^
members the thing dillindlly ; whereas, when he merely imagines
a thing ever fo diftin(5lly, he has no belief of it upon that account.

This belief, which we have from diftindl memory, we account
real knowledge, no lefs certain than if it was grounded on demon-
(Iration ; no man in his wits calls it in queftion, or will hear any
argument againft it. The tellimony of witnelles in caufes of life
and death depends upon it, and all the knowledge of mankind of
pad events is built on this foundation.

There are cafes in which a man's memory is lefs diftincfl and
determinate, and where he is ready to allow that it may have failed
him ; but this does not' in the leaft weaken its credit, when it is ,
perfedlly diftindl.

Memory implies a conception and belief of paft duration ; for it
is impoflible that a man fliould remember a thing dift;in<5lly, with-
out believing fome interval of duration, more or lefs, to have pafled
between the time it happened, and the prefent moment ; and I
think it is impoflible to Ihow how we could acquire a notion of
duration if we had no memory.

Things remembered muft be things formerly perceived or known.
I remember the tranfit of Venus over the fun in the year 1 769. I
muft therefore have perceived it at the time it happened, other-
wife I could not now remember it. Our firfl acquaintance with
any objedl of thought cannot be by remembrance. Memory can
only produce a continuance or renewal of a former acquaintance
with the thing remembered.

The remembrance of a paft event is neceflarily accompanied
with the convidlion of our own exiftence at the time the event
happened. I cannot remember a thing that happened a year ago,
without a convi«5lion as ftrong as memory can give, that I, the

Q^q fame

3o6 ' ESSAY ril.

CHAP. I. fame ideatical perfon who now remember that event, did then
exift.

-What I have hitherto faid concerning memory, I confider as
principles which appear obvious and certain to every man who
will take the pains to reflejfl upon the operations of his own mind»
They are facls of which every man muft judge by what he feels j
and they admit of no other proof but an appeal to every man's
own refledlion. I fhall therefore take them for granted in what
follows, and Ihall firft draw fome conclufions from them, and then
examine the theories of Philofophers concerning memory, and con-
cerning duration, and our perfonal identity, of which we acquire
the knowledge by memory.

CHAP, ii:

Memory an original Faculty.

FIRST, I think it appears that memory is an original faculty-
given us by the Author of our being, of which we can give
no account, but that we are fo made.

The knowledge which I have of things paft by my memory,
feems to me as unaccountable as an immediate knowledge would
be of things to come ; and I can give no reafon why I fliould have
the one and not the other, but that fuch is the will of my Maker.
I find in my mind a diftindl conception and a firm belief of a feries
of paft events ; but how this is produced I know not. I call it
memory, but this is only giving a name to it ; it is not an account
of its caufe. I believe mod firmly what I diftiniflly remember ;
but I can give no reafon of this belief. It is the infpiration of the
Almighty that gives me this underftanding.

When

MEMORY AN ORIGINAL FACULTY. 307

When I believe the truth of a mathematical axiom, or of a mathe- CHAP. IL
matical propofition, I fee that it muft be fo : Every man who has
the fame conception of it fees the fame. There is a neceflary and
an evident connexion between the fubjedl and the predicate of the
propofition ; and I have all the evidence to fupport my belief which
I can poffibly conceive.

When I believe that I walhed my hands and face this morning,
there appears no neceffity in the truth of this propofition. It might
be, or it might not be. A man may diftindly conceive it with-
out believing it at all. How then do I come to believe it ? I re-
member it difl;in<5lly. This is all I can fay. This remembrance is
an aft of my mind. Is it impoflible that this adl fhould be, if the
event had not happened ? I confefs I do not fee any neceflTary con-
nexion between the one and the other. If any man can fhow fuch
a neceflTary connedlion, then I think that belief which we have of
what we remember will be fairly accounted for ; but if this can-
not be done, that belief is unaccountable, and we can fay no more
but that it is the refult of our conftitution.

Perhaps it may be faid, that the experience we have had of the
fidelity of memory is a good reafon for relying upon its teflimony.
I deny not that this may be a reafon to thofe who have had this
experience, and who re'fledl upon it. But I believe there are few
who ever thought of this reafon, or who found any need of it. It
muft be fome very rare occafion that leads a man to have recourfe
to it ; and in thofe who have done fo, the teftimony of memory
was believed before the experience of its fidelity, and that belief
could not be caufed by the experience which came after it.

We know fome abftracfl truths, by comparing the terms of the
propofition which expreflTes them, and perceiving fome necefllary
relation or agreement between them. It is thus I know that two
and three make five ; that the diameters of a circle are all equal.
Mr Locke having difcovered this fource of knowledge, too rafhly

Q^q 2 concluded

3o8 ESSAY III.

CHAP. IT. concluded that all human knowledge might be derived from ic ;
and in this he has been followed very generally ; by Mr Hump, in
particular.

But I apprehend, that our knowledge of the exiftence of things
contingent can never be traced to this fource. I know that fuch a
thing exifls, or did exlft. This knowledge cannot be derived from
the perception of a neceflary agreement between exiftence and the
thing that exifts, becaufe there is no fuch necefTary agreement ;
and therefore no fuch agreement can be perceived either immediate-
ly, or by a chain of reafoning. The thing does not exifl: neceffa-
rily, but by the will and power of him that made it ; and there is
no contradi<5lion follows from fuppofing it not to exift.

Whence I think it follows, that our knowledge of the exiftence
of our own thoughts, of the exiftence of all the material objedts
about us, and of all paft contingencies, muft be derived, not from
a perception of necefTary relations or agreements, but from fome
other fource.

Our Maker has provided other means for giving us the know-
ledge of thefe things ; means which perfetflly anfwer their end,
and produce the effecfl intended by them. But in what manner
they do this, is, I fear, beyond our ikill to explain. We know
our own thoughts, and the operations of our minds, by a power
which we call confcioufnefs : But this is only giving a name to
this part of our frame. It does not explain its fabric, nor how it
produces in us an irrefiftible convi(5lion of its informations. We
perceive material objedls and their fenfible qualities by our fenfcs ;
but how they give us this information, and how they produce our
belief in it, we know not. We know many paft events by memo-
ry ; but how it gives this information, I believe, is inexplicable.

It is well known what fubtlie difputes were held through all the
fcholaftic ages, and are ftUl carried on about the prefcience of the

Deity^

MEMORY AN ORIGINAL FACULTY. 309

Deity. Aristotle had taught, that there can be no certain fore- chap. n.
knowledge of things contingent j and in this he has been very ge-
nerally followed, upon no other grounds, as I apprehend, but that
we cannot conceive how fuch things Ihould be foreknown, and
therefore conclude it to be impofTible. Hence has arifen an op-
pofition and fuppofed inconfiftency between Divine prefciencc and
human liberty. Some have given up the firft in favour of the laft,
and others have given up the laft in order to fupport the firft.

It is remarkable, that thefe difputants have never apprehended
that there is any difficulty in reconciling with liberty the know-
ledge of what is part, but only of what is future. It is prefcience
only, and not memory, that is fuppofed to be hoftile to liberty,,
and hardly reconcileable to it.

Yet I beliefe the diiEculty is perfectly equal in the one cafe and
ia the other. I admit, that we cannot account for prefcience of
the acftions of a free agent. But I maintain that we can as little
account for memory of the pafl adlions of a free agent. If any
tnan thinks he can prove that the a(5\ion8 of a free agent cannot
be foreknown, he will find the fame arguments of equal force to
prove that the paft afllona of a free agent cannot be remembered.
It is true, that what is paft did certainly exift. It is no lefs true,
that what is future will certainly exift. I know no reafoning from
the conftitution of the agent, or fi'om his circumftances, that has
not equal ftrength, whether it be applied tohis paft or to his fu-
ture a<ftions. The paft was, but now is not. The future will be,
but now is not. The prefent is equally connedled, or unconne(5l-
ed with both.

The only reafon why mert have apprehended (o great dlfparity in
<;aies fo perfedtly like, I take to be this, That the faculty of me-
mory in ourfclves convinces us from fadl, that it is not impofTible
that an intelligent being, even a finite being, fhould have certain
knowledge of paft alliens of free agents, without tracing diem;

fronx

310 ESSAY III.

chap.il from any thing neceflarily connedled with them. But having no
prefcience in ourfelves correfponding to our memory of what is
pad, we find great difficulty in admitting it to be poflible even in
the Supreme Being.

A faculty which we poflefs in fome degree, we eafily admit that
the Supreme Being may poflefs in a more perfedl degree ; but a
faculty, which has nothing correfponding to it in our conftitution,
we will hardly allow to be poffible. We are fo conftituted as
to have an intuitive knowledge of many things pafl: ; but we
have no intuitive knowledge of the future. We might perhaps
have been fo conftituted as to have an intuitive knowledge of the
future, but not of the paft ; nor would this conftitution have
been more unaccountable than the prefent, though it might be
much more inconvenient. Had this been our conftitution, we
Ihould have found no difiiculty in admitting that i!he Deity may
know all things future, but very much in admitting his know-
ledge of things that are paft.

Our original faculties are all unaccountable. Of thefe memory
is one. He only who made them, comprehends fully how they
are made, and how they produce in us not only a conception, but
a firm belief and aflTurance of things which it concerns us to
know.

CHAP. III.
Of Duration.

FROM the principles laid down in the firft chapter of this Eflay,
1 think it appears, that our notion of duration, as well as our
belief of it, is got by the faculty of memory. It is eflential to
every thing remembered that it be fomething which is paft ; and
we cannot conceive a thing to be paft, without conceiving fome

duration,

O F D U R A T I O N. 311

duration, more or lefs,- between it and the prefent. As foon there- CHAP- IIT.
fore as we remember any thing, we muft have both a notion and
a belief of duration. It is neceflarily fuggefled by every operation
of our memory ; and to that faculty it ought to be afcribed. ^ This
is therefore a proper place to confider what is known concerning it.

Duration, extenfion, and number, are the meafures of all things
fubjedl to menfuration. When we apply them to finite things
which are meafured by them, they feem of all things to be the
moft diflindlly conceived, and mod withua the reach of human,
underftanding.

Extenfion having three dimenfions, has an endlefs variety of
modifications, capable of being accurately defined ; and their va-
rious relations furnifli the human mind with its moft ample field
of demonftrat^ve reafoning. Duration having only one dimenfion,,
has fewer modifications ; but thefe are clearly underftood ; and
their relations admit of meafure, proportion, and demonfirative
reafoning.

Number is called difcrete quantity, becaufe it is compounded of
units, which are all equal and fimilar, and it can only be divided
into units. This is true, in fbme fenfe, even of fradions of unity,,
to which we now commonly give the name of number. For in
every fradlional number the unit i* fuppofed to be fubdivided in-
to a certain number of equal parts, which are the units of that
denomination, and the fra(5lions of that denomination are only
divifible into units of the fame denomination. Duration and ex-
tenfion are not difcrete, but continued quantity. They conCfl of
parts perfectly fimilar, but divifible without end.

In order to aid our conception of the magnitude and propor-
tions of the various intervals of duration, we find it necefl^ary to
give a name to fome known portion of it, fuch as an hour^ a day,,
a year. Thefe we confider as units, and by the number of them

contained.

512 ESSAY III.

v^^

chaJmii. contained in a larger interval, we form a tIiftin<fT: conception of
its mar^nitude. A fimilar expedient we find nccefTary to give us
a diftindl conception of the magnitudes and propoitions of things
extended. Thus, number is found ncceffary, as a common mea-
fure of extenfion and duration. But this perhaps is owing to the
weakncfs of our underrtanding. It has even been difcovered, by
the fagacity of Mathematicians, that this expedient does not in all
cafes anfvver its intention. For tliere are proportions of continued
quantity, which cannot be perfectly exprefled by numbers ; fuch
as that between the diagonal and fide of a fquare, and many others.

The parts of duration have to other parts of it the relations of
prior and poflerior, and to the prefent they have the relations of
part and future. The notion of pad is immediately fuggefled by
memory, as has been before obferved. And when we have got
the notions of prefent and part, and of prior and pofterior, we can
from thefe frame a notion of the future ; for the future is that
which is pofterior to the prefent. Nearnefs and diftance are rela-
tions equally applicable to time and to place. Diltance in time,
and diftance in place, are things fo different in their nature, and
fo like in their relation, that it is difficult to determine whether
the name of diflance is applied to both in the fame or an analo-
gical fenfe.

The extenfion of bodies which we perceive by our fenfes, leads
us neceffarily to the conception and belief of a fpace which re-
mains immoveable when the body is removed. And the duration
of events which we remember leads us necelTarily to the concep-
tion and belief of a duration, which would have gone on uniform-
ly, though the event had never happened.

Without fpace there can be nothing that is extended. And
without time there can be nothing that hath duration. This I
think undeniable. And yet we find that extenfion and duration

are

O F D U R A T I O N. 313

are not more clear and intelligible than fpace and time are dark and ^^^^"^;
difBcult objecfls of contemplation.

As there muft be fpace wherever any thing extended does or can
exifl, and time when there is or can be any thing that has dura-
tion, we can fet no bounds to either, even in our imagination.
They defy all limitation. The one fwells in our conception to im-
menfity, the other to eternity.

An eternity paft is an objedl which we cannot comprehend ; but
a beginning of time, unlefs we take it in a figurative fenfe, is a
contradi(5tion. By a common figure of fpeech, we give the name
of time to thofe motions and revolutions by which we meafure it,
fuch as days and years. We can conceive a beginning of thefe
fenfible meafures of time, and fay that there was a time when they
were not, a time undiftinguifhed by any motion or change ; but
to fay that there was a time before all time, is a contradidion.

All limited duration is comprehended in time, and all limited
extenfion in fpace. Thefe, in their capacious womb, contain all
finite exigences, but are contained by none. Created things have
their particular place in fpace, and their particular place in time ;
but time is every where, and fpace at all times. They embrace
each the other, and have that myfterious union which the fchool-
men conceived between foul and body. The whole of each is in
every part of the other.

We are at a lofs to what category or clafs of things we ought
to refer them. They are not beings, but rather the receptacles of
every created being, without which it could not have had the pof-
fibility of exiflence. Philofophers have endeavoured to reduce all
the obje<5\s of human thought to thefe three clafles, of fubftances,
modes, and relations. To which of them fhall we refer time, fpace
and number, the moft common objedls of thought ?

R r 'sir

3T4 ESSAY III.

CHAP. IIL Sir Isaac Newton thought, that the Deity, by exifllng every
where, and at all times, conftitutes time and fpace, immenfity and
eternity. This probably fuggefted to his great friend Dr Clarke
what he calls the argument a priori for the exiftence of an immenfe
and eternal Being. Space and time, he thought, are only abflradt
or partial conceptions of an immenfity and eternity, which forces
itfelf upon our belief. And as immenfity and eternity are not
fubftances, they mud be the attributes of a Being who is necefik-
rily immenfe and eternal. Thefe are the fpeculations of men of
fuperior genius. But whether they be as folid as they are fublime,
or whether they be the wanderings of imagination in a region be-
yond the limits of human underflanding, I am unable to deter-
mine.

The fchoolmen made eternity to be a nuncjlans^ that is, a mo-
ment of time that (lands flill. This was to put a fpoke into the
wheel of time, and might give fatisfadlion to thofe who are to be
fatisfied by words without meaning. But I can as eafily believe
a circle to be a fquare as time to ftand flill..

Such paradoxes and riddles, if I may fo call them, men are in-
voluntarily led into when they reafon about time and fpace, and
attempt to comprehend their nature. They are probably things
of which the human faculties give an imperfe6l and inadequate
conception. Hence difficulties arife which we in vain attempt to
overcome, and doubts which we are unable to refolve. Perhaps
fbme faculty which we pofTefs not, is necefTary to remove the dark-
nefs which hangs over them, and makes us fo apt to bewilder our-
felves when we reafon about them.

CHAP.

OF IDENTITY.

C H A P. IV.

Of Identity.

THE convidlion which every man has of his identity, as far
back as his memory reaches, needs no aid of philofophy to
ftrengthen it, and no philofophy can weaken it, without firft pro-
ducing forae degree of infanity.

The Philofopher, however, may very properly confider this con-
vidlion as a phsenomenon of human nature worthy of his atten-
tion. If he can difcover its caufe, an addition is made to his flock
of knowledge : If not, it muft be held as a part of our original
conflitution, or an effe(5l of that conftitution produced in a manner
unknown to us.

We may obferve, firft of all, that this conviction is indifpenfably
neceffary to all exercife of reafon. The operations of reafon, whe-
ther in adlion or in fpeculation, are made up of fucceffive parts.
The antecedent are the foundation of the confequent, and without
the convi(5lion that the antecedent have been feen or done by me,
I could have no reafon to proceed to the confequent, in any fpe-
culation, or in any adive proje<fl whatever.

There can be no memory of what is paft without the convidion
that we exifted at the time remembered. There may be good ar-
guments to convince me that I exifted before the earlieft thing I
can remember ; but to fuppofe that my memory reaches a moment
farther back than my belief and convidion of my exiftence, is a
contradidion.

The moment a man lofes this convidlion, as if he had drunk
the water of Lethe, paft things are done away 5 and, in his own

R r 2 belief,

Z^S

CHAP. IV.

-■ * .. 1

J

i6 ESSAY III.

CHARIV. ^ belief, he then begins to exift. Whatever was thought, or faid,
or done, or fuffered, before that period, may belong to fome other
perfon ; but he can never impute it to himfelf, or take any fubfe-
quent ftep that fuppofes it to be his doing.

From this it is evident, that we mufl have the convi(5lion of our
own continued exiftence and identity, as Toon as we are capable of
thinking hr doing any thing, on account of what we have thought,
or done, or fuffered before ; that is, as foon as we are reafonable
creatures.

That we may form as diflincfl a notion as we are able of this
phaenomenon of the human mind, it is proper to confider what is
meant by identity in general, what by our own perfonal identity,
and how wc are led into that invincible belief and convi(5tion which
every man has of his own perfonal identity, as far as his memory
reaches.

Identity in general, I take to be a relation between a thing which
is known to exift at one time, and a thing which is known to have
exifted at another time. If you afk whether they are one and the
fame, or two different things, every man of common fenfe under-
ftands the meaning of your queftion perfe(5lly. Whence we may
infer with certainty, that every man of common fenfe has a clear
and diftindt notion of identity.

If you aflc a definition of identity, I confefs I can give none ; it
is too fimple a notion to admit of logical definition : I can fay it is
a relation, but I cannot find words to exprefs the fpecific difference
between this and other relations, though I am in no danger of con-
founding it with any other. I can fay that diverfity is a contrary
relation, and that fimilitude and diffimilitude are another couple
of contrary relations, which every man eafily diftinguifhes in his
conception from identity and diverfity .^

1

O F I D E N T I T Y. 317

I fee evidently that identity fuppofes an uninterrupted continu- ^HAP.iv.^
ance of exiftence. That which hath ceafed to exift, cannot be the
fame with that which afterwards begins to exifl: ; for this would
be to fuppofe a being to exift after it ceafed to exift, and to have
had exiftence before it was produced, which are manifeft contra-
didions. Continued uninterrupted exiftence is therefore neceiTarily
implied in identity.

Hence we may infer, that identity cannot, in its proper fcnfe,
be applied to our pains, our pleafures, our thoughts, or any opera-
tion of our minds. The pain felt this day is not the fame indivi-
dual pain which I felt yefterday, though they may be fimilar in
kind and degree, and have the fame caufe. The fame may be faid
of every feeling, and of every operation of mind : They are all
fuccefTive in their nature like time itfelf, no two moments of which
can be the fame moment.

It is otherwife with the parts of abfolute fpace. They always
are, and were, and will be the fame. So far, I think, we proceed
upon clear ground in fixing the notion of identity in general.

It is perhaps more difficult to afcertain with preclfion the mean-
ing of perfonality ; but it is not neceflary in the prefent fubje<5l :
It is fufficient for our purpofe to obferve, that all mankind place
their perfonality in fomething that cannot be divided, or conlift of
parts. A part of a perfon is a manifeft abfurdity.

When a man lofes his eftate, his health, his ftrength, he is ftill
the fame perfon, and has loft nothing of his perfonality. If he has
a leg or an arm cut off, he is the fame perfon he was before. The
amputated member is no part of his perfon, otherwife it v,'ould
have a right to a part of his eftate, and be liable for a part of his
engagements : It would be entitled to a fliare of his merit and de-
merit, which is manifeftly abfurd. A perfon is fomething indivi-
fible, and is what Leibnitz calls a mojiad.

. My

3i8 ESSAY III.

CHAP, tv.^ ]yiy perfonal identity, therefore, implies the continued exiftence
of that indivifible thing which I call myfelf. Whatever this felf
may be, it is fomething which thinks, and deliberates, and refolves,
and adls, and fufTers. I am not thought, I am not a(5lion, I am
not feeling ; I am fomething that thinks, and aifls, and fuffers.
My thoughts, and a(5lions, and feelings, change every moment ;
they have no continued, but a fuccelTive exiflence ; but that felf
or /, to which they belong, is permanent, and has the fame relation
to all the fucceeding thoughts, anions, and feelings, which I call
mine.

Such are the notions that I have of my perfonal identity. But
perhaps it may be faid, this may all be fancy without reality.
How do you know ; what evidence have you, that there is fuch a
permanent felf which has a claim to all the thoughts, adlions, and
feelings, which you call yours ?

To this I anfwer, that the proper evidence I have of all this is
remembrance. I remember that twenty years ago I converfed
with fuch a perfon ; I remember feveral things that paffed in that
converfation ; my memory teftifies not only that this was done,
but that it Was done by me who now remember it : If it was
done by me, I muft have exifted at that time, and continued to
exift from that time to the prefent : If the identical perfon whom
I call myfelf, had not a part in that converfation, my memory is
fallacious ; it gives a diftindl and pofitive teftimony of what is not
true. Every man in his fenfes believes what he diftindlly remem-
bers, and every thing he remembers convinces him that he exifted
at the time remembered.

Although memory gives the moft irrefiftible evidence of my be-
ing the identical perfon that did fuch a thing, at fuch a time, I
may have other good evidence of things which befel me, and
which I do not remember : I know who bare me, and fuckled me,
but 1 do not remember thefe events.

It

O F I D E N T I T Y. 319

It may here be obferved, (though the obfervatlon would have chap, iv.^'
been unneceffary, if fome great Philofophers had not contradidled
it) that it is not my remembering any adlion of mine that makes
me to be the'perfon who did it. This remembrance makes me to
know afluredly that I did it ; but I might have done it, though I
did not remember it. That relation to me, which is exprefTed by
faying that I did it, would be the fame, though I had not the lead
remembrance of it. To fay that my remembering that I did fuch
a thing, or, as fome chufe to exprefs it, my being confcious that I
did it, makes me to have done it, appears to me as great an abfur-
dity as it would be to fay, that my belief that the world was crea-^
ted, made it to be created.

When we pafs judgment on the identity of other perfons befides
ourfelves, we proceed upon other grounds, and determine from a
variety of circumftances, which fometimes produce the firmeft af-
furance, and fometimes leave room for doubt. The identity of
perfons has often furniflied matter of ferious litigation before tri-
bunals of juftice. But no man of a found mind ever doubted of
his own identity, as far as he diftindlly remembered.

The identity of a perfon is a perfedl identity ; wherever it is
real, it admits of no degrees ; and it is impofTible that a perfon
fhould be in part the fame, and in part different; becaufe a per-
fon is a monady and is not divifible into parts. The evidence of
identity in other perfons befides ourfelves, does indeed admit of all
degrees, from what we account certainty, to the leaft degree of pro-
bability. But dill it is true, that the fame perfon is perfecflly the
fame, and cannot be fo in part, or in fome degree only.

For this caufe, I have firft confidered perfonal identity, as that
which is perfedl in its kind, and the natural meafure of that which;
is imperfedl..

We

320

ESSAY III.

CHAP. IV. We probably at firfl: derive our notion of identity from that na-
tural convi<5lion which every man has from the dawn of reafon of
his own identity and continued exiftence. The operations of our
minds are all fucceffive, and have no continued exiftence. But
the thinking being has a continued exiftence, and we have an in-
vincible belief, that it remains the fame when all its thoughts and
operations change.

Our judgments of the identity of obje<^s of fenfe feem to be
formed much upon the fame grounds as our judgments of the
identity of other perfons befides ourfelves.

Wherever we obferve great fimilarity, we are apt to prefume
identity, if no reafon appears to the contrary. Two objedls ever
foi^ like, when they are perceived at the fame time, cannot be the
fame : But if they are prefented to our fenfes at different times, we
are apt to think them the fame, merely from their fimilarity.

Whether this be a natural prejudice, or from whatever caufe it
proceeds, it certainly appears in children from infancy ; and, when
we grow up, it is confirmed in moft inftances by experience : For
we rarely find two individuals of the fame fpecies that are not di-
ftinguifhable by obvious differences.

A man challenges a thief whom he finds in poffeffion of his *
horfe or his watch, only on fimilarity. When the watchmaker
fwears that he fold this watch to fuch a perfon, his teftimony is
grounded on fimilarity. The teftimony of witneffes to the identi-
ty of a perfon is commonly grounded on no other evidence.

Thus it appears, that the evidence we have of our own identity,
as far back as we remember, is totally of a different kind from the
evidence we have of the identity of other perjbns, or of obje(f\s of
fenfe. The fir ft is grounded on memory, and gives undoubted
certainty. The laft is grounded on fimilarity, and on other cir-

cumftances,

O F I D E N T I T Y. 321

cumftances, which in many cafes are not fo decifive as to leave no CRAT. iv.
room for doubt.

It may likewife be obferved, that the identity of obje(5ls of fenfe
is never perfedl. All bodies, as they confifl of innumerable parts
that may be disjoined from them by a great variety of caufes, are
fubjedl to continual changes of their fubftance, increafing, dimi-
nifhing, changing infenfibly. When fuch alterations are gradual,
becaufe language could not afford a different name for every dif-
ferent (late of fuch a changeable being, it retains the fame name,
and is confidered as the fame thing. Thus we fay of an old regi-
ment, that it did fuch a thing a century ago, though there now is
not a man alive who then belonged to it. We fay a tree is the
fame in the feed-bed and in the foreft. A (hip of war, which has
fucceffively changed her anchors, her tackle, her fails, her maftsf
her planks, and her timbers, while flie keeps the fame name, is
the fame.

The identity therefore which we afcribe to bodies, whether na-
tural or artificial, is not perfect identity ; it is rather fomething,
which, for the^conveniency of fpeech, we call identity. It admits
of a great change of the fubjedl, providing the change be gradual,
fometimes even of a total change. And the changes which in
common language are made confident with identity, differ from
thofe that are thought to deftroy it, not in kind, but in number
and degree. It has no fixed nature when applied to bodies ; and
queftions about the identity of a body are very often quellions
about words. But identity, when applied to perfons, has no am-
biguity, and admits not of degrees, or of more and lefs : It is the
foundation of all rights and obligations, and of all accountable-
nefs ; and the notion of it is fixed and precife.

S r CHAP.

E S BIA! Y III.

C II A P. V.

Mr Locke's Account of the Or'tgiu of our Ideas^ and particultirly of the

Idea of Duration.

IT was a very laudable attempt of Mr Locke " to enquire into
" the original of thofe ideas, notions, or whatever you pleafe
•' to call them, which a man obferves^ and is confcious to himfelf
" he has in his mind, and the ways whereby the underftanding
" comes to be furniflied with them." No man was better quali-
fied for, this inveftigation ; and I believe no man ever engaged in it
with a more fincere love of truth.

His fuccefs, though great, would, I apprehend, have been great-
er, if he had not too early formed a fyftem or hypothefis upon
this fubjed, without all the caution and patient indudion, which
is neceflary in drawing general conclufions from fa<5ls.

The fum of his dodrine I take to be this, " That all our ideas
or notions may be reduced to two clafles, the fimple and the com-
plex : That the fimple are purely the work of Nature, the under-
flanding being merely pafllve in receiving them : That they arc all
fuggefted by two powers of the mind, to wit, fenfation and reflec-
tion ; and that they are the materials of all our knowledge. That
the other clafs of complex ideas are formed by the under {landing
itfelf, which being once llored with fimple ideas of fenfation and
reflexion, has the power to repeat, to compare, and to combine them
even to an almofl: infinite variety, and fo can make at pleafurc new
complex ideas : But that it is not in the power of the mod exalt-
ed wit, or enlarged vmderllanding, by any quicknefs or variety of
thought, to invent or frame one new fimple idea in the mind, not
taken in by the two ways before mentioned. Tiiat as our power

over

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF THE IDEA OF DURATION. 52^

over the material world reaches only to the compounding, dividing, CHAP. V.^

and putting together, in various forms, the matter which God has

made, but reaches not to the produdlion or annihilation of a fingle

atom ; fo we may compou.id, compare, and abflraifl the original

and fimple ideas which Nature has given us ; but are unable to fa-

fhion in our underftanding any fimple idea, not received in by our

fenfes from external objecfts, o^ by refledlion from the operations

of our own mind about them."

This account of the origin of all our ideas is adopted by Bifhop
Berkeley and Mr Hume ; but fome very ingenious Philofophers,
who have a high efteem of Locke's Eflay, are diflatisfied with it.

Dr HuTCHESON of Glafgow, in his Enquiry into the Ideas of
Beauty and Virtue, has endeavoured to fhow that thefe are original
and fimple ideas, furnifhed by original powers, which he calls the
fenfe of beauty and th« mm-al fenfc.

Dr Price, in his Review of the Principal Queflions and Diffi-
culties in Morals, has obferved very juftly, that if we take the
words fcTrfufron And refleBion, as Mr Locke has defined them in the
beginning of his" excellent Efliay, it wijl be impoffibfe to derive
fome of the mod important of our ideas from them ; and that, by
the underftanding, that is by our judging and reafoning power, wc
are furniihed with many fimple and original notions.

Mr Locke fays, that, by rcfledion, he would be underftood to
mean " the notice which the mind takes of its own operations,
" and the manner of them." This, I think, we commonly call con-
fcioufnefs ; from which, indeed, we derive all the notions we have
of the operations of our own minds; and he often fpdaks of the
operations of our own minds, as the only obj6dls of reiiedion.

When refle(flion is taken in this confined fenfe, to fay, that all
our ideas are ideas either of fenfation or reflexion, is to fay, that

S f 2 every

324 ESSAY III.

CHAP. V. every thing we can conceive is either fome objedl of fenfe, or Tome
operation of our own minds, which is far from being true.

But the word refledlion is commonly ufed in a much more ex-
tenfive fenfe; it is applied to m^ny operations of the mind, with
more propriety than to that of confcioufnefs. \ye reflect, wheh
we remember, or call to mind what is paft, and furvey it with at-
tention. We refleft, when we define, when we diftinguifh, when
we judge, when we reafon, whether about things material or in-
telle(flual.

When refledlion is taken in this fenfe, which is more common,
and therefore. more proper than the fenfe which Mr Locke has put
upon it, it may be juflly faid to be the only fourcc of all our di-
flinxfl and accurate notions of things. For, although our firft no-
tions of material things are got by the external fen fes, and our firfl
notions of the operations of our own minds by confcioufnefs,
thefe firft notions are neither fimple nor clear. Our fenfes and our
confcioufnefs are continually fliifting from one object to another ;
their operations are tranfient and-momentary, and leave no diftindl
notion of, their objects, until they are recalled by memory, exa:-.
mined with attention, and compai:ed with other things.

This refle(5lion is not one power of the mind ; it comprehends
many ; fuch as recolle(5lion, attention, diftinguiihing, comparing,
judging. By thefe powers our minds are furnifhed not only with
many fimple and original notions, but with all our notions, which
are accurate and well defined, and which, alone are the proper ma-,
terials of reafoning. Many of thefe, are neither notions of the ob-
ie^ls of fenfe, nor of the operations of our own minds, and there-
fore neither ideas of fenfation, nor of reflecflion, in the fenfe that
Mr Locke gives to reiiedion. But if any one chufes to call them
ideas of refledtion, taking the word in the more common and pro-
per fenfe, I have no objedlion. „.„,,'

Mr

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF THE IDEA OF DURATION. 325

Mr Locke feems to me to have ufed the word refledlion feme- CHAP, v.^
limes in that limited fenfe which he has given to it in the definition
before mentioned, and fometimes to have fallen unawares into the
common fenfe of the word ; and by this ambiguity his account of
the origin of our ideas is darkened and perplexed.

Having premifed thefe things in general of Mr Locke's theory
of the origin of our ideas or notions, I proceed to fome obfcrva-
tions on his account of the idea of duration. /

" Refied;ion, he fays, upon the train of ideas, which appear
" one after another in our minds, is that which fumifhes us with
" the idea of fucceflion ; and the diftance between any two parts
" of that fucceflion, is that we call duration."

If it be meant that the idea of fucceflion is prior to that of du-
ration, either in time, or in the order of nature, this, I think, is-
impofllble, becaufe fucceflion, as Dr Price juftly obferves, pre-
fuppofes duration, and can in no fenfe be prior to it ; and there-
fore it would be more proper to derive the idea of fucceflion from
that of. duration.

But how do we get the idea of fucceflion ? It is, fays he, by re-
fledling upon the train of Ideas, which appear one after another in
our minds.

Reflecllng upon the train of ideas can be nothing but remem-
bering it, and giving attention to what our memory tefl:lfies con-
cerning it'; for if we did not remember it, we could not have a
thought abovit it. So that it is evident that this refledlion includes
remembrance, without which there could be no refle(5tion on what
is pafl:, and confequently no idea of fucceflion.

It may here be obferved, that if we fpeak fl:ridtly and philofo-
phically, no kind of fucceirion can be an object either of the

fenfeSv

326 ESSAY III.

CHAP.v. fenfes, or of confcioufnefs ; becaufe the operations of both, are
confined to the prefent point of time, and there can be no fuccefiion
in a point of time ; and on that account the motion of a body,
which is a fucceffive change of place, could not be obferved by
the fenfes alone without the aid of memory.

As this obfervation feems to contradid the common fenfe and
common language of mankind, when they affirm that they fee a
body move, and hold motion to be an objedl of the fenfes, it is
proper to take notice, that this contradidlion between the Philofo-
pher and the vulgar is apparent only, and not real. It arifes from
this, that Philofophers and the vulgar differ in the meaning they
put upon what is called the prefent time, and are thereby led to
make a different limit between fenfe and memory.

Philofophers give the name of th^e prefent to that indivifible point
of time, which divides the future from the pall : But the vulgar
find it more convenient in the affairs of life, to give the name of
prefent to a portion of time, which extends more or lefs, according
to circumflances, into the part or the future. Hence we fay, the
prefent hour, the prefent year, the prefent century, though one
point only of thefe periods can be prefent in the philofophical fenfe.

It has been obferved by Grammarians, that the prefent tenfe in
verbs is not confined to an indivifible point of time, but is fo far
extended as to have a beginning, a middle, and an end ; and that
in the moft copious and accurate languages, thefe different parts of
the prefent are diftinguilhed by different forms of the verb.

As the purpofes of converfation make it convenient to extend
what is called the prefent, the fame reafon leads men to extend the
j)rovince of fenfe, and to carry its limit as far back as they carry
the prefent. Thus a man may fay, I faw fuch a perfon jufl now;
it would be ridiculous to find fault with this way of fpeaking, be-
caufe it is authorifed by cuftom, and has a diftinifl meaning : But

if

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF THE IDEA OF DURATION. 327

if we fpeak philofophically, the fenfes do not teflify what we faw, CHAP. V.^
but only ,what we fee ; what I faw lafl moment I confider as
the teftimony of fenfe, though it is now only the teftimony of
memory. -

There is no neceflity in common life of dividing accurately the
provinces of fenfe and of memory ; and therefore vsre aflign to fenfe,
not an indivifible point of time, but that fmall portion of time
which we call the prefent, which has a beginning, a middle, and
an end.

Hence it is eafy to fee, that though in common language we fpeak
with perfed propriety and truth, when we fay, that we fee a body
move, and that motion is an objedl of fenfe, yet when as Philofo-
phers we diftinguifli accurately the province of fenfe from that of
memory, we can no more fee what is pad, though but a moment
ago, than we can remember what is prefent; fo that fpeaking phi-
lofophically, it is only by the aid of memory that we difcern mo-
lion, or any fucceflion whatfoever : We fee the prefent place of the
body ; we remember the fucceflive advance it made to that place :
The firll can then only give us a conception of motion, when joined
to the lart.

Having confidered the account given by Mr Locke, of the idea
of fucceffion, we ihall next confider how, from the idea of fuccef-
fion, he derives the idea of duration.

*' The dlftance, he fays, between any parts of that fucceflion, or
" between the appearance of any two ideas in our minds, is that
" we call duration."

To conceive this the more diftlndlly, let us call the diflance be-
tween an idea and that which immediately fucceeds it, one elemcnr
of duration ; the dillance between an idea and the fecond that
fucceeds it, two elements, and fo on : If ten fuch elements make

duration.

328 ESSAY III.

^^^.^' ^ '-> '^^''^tio^i then one mufl make duration, otherwile duration mull be
made up of parts that have no duration, which is Impoflible.

For, fuppofe a fuccefllon of as many ideas as you pleafe, if none
of thefe ideas have duration, nor any interval of duration be be-
tween one and another, then it is perfe<flly evident there can be no
interval of duration between the firil and the la ft, how great foever
their number be. I conclude therefore, that there mufl: be dura-
tion in every firigle interval or element of which the whole duration
is made up. Nothing indeed is more certain than that every ele-
mentary part of duration muft: have duration, as every elementary
part of extenfion mufl; have extenfion.

Now it mufl: be obferved, that in thefe elements of duration, or
fingle intervals of fucceflive ideas, there is no fuccelTion of ideas,
yet we muft conceive them to have duration ; whence we may
conclude with certainty, that there is a conception of duration,
where there is no fuccefllon of ideas in the mind.

"We may meafure duration by the fuccefllon of thoughts In the
mind, as we meafure length by inches or feet ; but the notion or
idea of duration mufl: be antecedent to the menfuratlon of it, as
the notion of length is antecedent to its being meafured.

Mr Locke draws fome conclufions from his account of the idea
of duration, which may ferve as a touchftone to difcover how far
it is genuine. One is, that if it were poflible for awaking man to
keep only one idea in his mind without variation, or the fuccefllon
of others, he would have no perception of duration at all; and the
moment he began to have this idea, would feem to have no diftance
from the moment he ceafed to have it.

Now that one idea fliould feem to have no duration, and that a
multiplication of that no duration fliould feem to have duration, ap-
pears to me as impofllble as that the multiplication of nothing fliould
produce fomething.

Another

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF THE IDEA OF DURATION. 329

Another conclufion which the author draws from this theory is, CHAP. v.
that the fame period of duration appears long to us, when the fuc-
ceffion of ideas in our mind is quick, and Ihort when the fuccef-
fion is flow.

There can be no doubt but the fame length of duration appears
in fome circumflances much longer than in others ; the time ap-
pears long when a man \& impatient under any pain or diflrefs, or
when he is eager in the expe(5lation of fome happinefs : On the
other hand, when he is pleafed and happy in agreeable converfa-
tion, or delighted with a variety of agreeable objeds that ftrike his
fenfes, or his imagination, time flies away, and appears flaort.

According to Mr Locke's theory, in the firfl of thefe cafes, the
fucceflion of ideas is very quick, and in the lafl very flow : I am
rather inclined to think that the very contrary is the truth. When
a man is racked with pain, or with expedlation, he can hardly
think of any thing but his diflrefs ; and the more his mind is oc-
cupied by that fole objedl, the longer the time appears. On the
other hand, when he is entertained with cheerful inufic, with
lively converfation, and briflc fallies of wit, there feems to be the
quickeft fucceflion of ideas, but the time appears fliorteft.

I have heard a military officer, a man of candour and obfervation,
fay, that the time he was engaged in hot adlion always appeared to
him much fliorter than it really was. Yet I think it cannot be
fuppofed, that the fucceflion of ideas was then flower than ufual.

If the idea of duration were got merely by the fucceflion of ideas
in our minds, that fucceflion muft: to ourfelves appear equally
quick at all times, becaufe the only meafure of duration is the
number of fucceeding ideas ; but I believe every man capable of
refledlion will be fenfible, that at one time his thoughts come flowly
and heavily, and at another time have a much quicker and livelier
motion.

T t ' I

330 ESSAY III.

CHAP. V. I know of no ideas or notions that have a better claim to be ac-
counted fimple and original than thofe of fpace and time. It is
eflential both to fpace and time to be made up of parts, but every
part is fimilar to the whole, and of the fame nature. Different
parts of fpace, as it has three dimenfions, may differ both in figure
and in magnitude ; but time having only one dimenfion, its parts
can differ only in magnitude ; and, as it is one of the fimplefl; ob-
jeds of thought, the conception of it muft be purely the effedl of
our conftitution, and given us by fome original power of the mind.

The fenfe of feeing, by itfelf, gives us the conception and be-
lief of only two dimenfions of extenfion, but the fenfe of touch
difcovers three ; and reafon, from the contemplation of finite ex-
tended things, leads us neceffarily to the belief of an immenfity
that contains them. In like manner, memory gives us the con-
ception and belief of finite intervals of duration. From the con-
templation of thefe, reafon leads us neceffarily to the belief of an
eternity, which comprehends all things that have a beginning and
end. Our conceptions, both of fpace and time, are probably par-
tial and inadequate, and therefore we are apt to lofe ourfelves, and
to be embarraffed in our reafonings about them.

Our underftanding is no lefs puzzled when we confider the mi-
nutefl parts of time and fpace than when we confider the whole.
We are forced to acknowledge, that in their nature they are divi-
fible without end or limit ; but there are limits beyond which our
faculties can divide neither the one nor the other.

It may be determined by experiment, what is the leaft angle
under which an objedt may be difcerned by the eye, and what is
the leafl interval of duration that may be difcerned by the ear. I
believe thefe may be different in different perfons : But furely
there is a limit which no man can exceed : And what our faculties
can no longer divide is flill divifible in itfelf, and, by beings of
fuperior pcrfedlion, may be divided into thoufands of parts.

I

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF THE IDEA OF DURATION. 331

I have reafbn to believe, that a good eye in the prime of life may CHAP, v,
fee an objedl under an angle not exceeding half a minute of a de-
gree, and I believe there are fome human eyes ftill more perfed:.
But even this degree of perfection will appear great, if we confider
how fmall a part of the retina of the eye it muft be which fub-
tends an angle of half a minute.

Suppoling the diftance between the centre of the eye and the
retina to be fix or feven tenths of an inch, the fubtenfe of an angle
of half a minute to that radius, or the breadth of the image of an
objedl feen under that angle, will not be above the ten thoufandth
part of an inch. This flaews fuch a wonderful degree of accuracy
in the refrading power of a good eye, that a pencil of rays coming
from one point of the objecfl fhall meet in one point of the retina,
fo as not to deviate from that point the ten thoufandth part of an
inch. It fhews, likewife, that fuch a motion of an obje(5l as makes
its image on the retina to move the ten thoufandth part of an inch,
is difcernible by the mind.

In order to judge to what degree of accuracy we can meafure
fhort intervals of time, it may be obferved, that one who has given
attention to the motion of a Second pendulum, will be able to beat
feconds for a minute with a very fmall error. When he continues
this exercife long, as for five or ten minutes, he is apt to err, more
even than in proportion to the time, for this reafon, as I apprehend,
that it is difiicult to attend long to the moments as they pafs,
without wandering after fome other obje<5l of thought.

I have found, by fome experiments, that a man may beat fe-
conds for one minute, without erring above one fecond in the whole
fixty ; and I doubt not but by long practice he might do it ftill
more accurately. From this I think it follows, that the fixtieth
part of a fecond of time is difcernible by the human mind.

T t 2 CHAP.

332 ESSAY III.

CHAP.Vt.

CHAP. VI.

<y -Mr Locke's Account of our perfonal Identity.

IN a long chapter upon identity and dlverfity, Mr Locke has
made many ingenious and juft obfervations, and fome which
I think cannot be defended. I fhall only take notice of the ac-
count he gives of our own perfonal identity. His dodlrine upon
this fubjedl has been cenfured by Bifhop Butler, in a Ihort eflay
fubjoined to his Analogy, with whofe fentiments I perfedlly agree.

Identity, as was obferved chap. 4. of this Eflay, fuppofes the
continued exiftence of the being of which it is affirmed, and
therefore can be applied only to things which have a continued
exiftence. While any being continues to exift, it is the fame be-
ing ; but two beings which have a different beginning or a diffe-
rent ending of their exiftence, cannot poflibly be the fame. To
this I think Mr Locke agrees.

He obferves very juftly, that to know what Is meant by the
fame perfon, we muft confider what the word per/on ftands for ;
and he defines a perfon to be an intelligent being, endowed with
reafon and with confcioufnefs, which laft he thinks infeparable
from thought.

From this definition of a perfon, it muft neceflarily follow, that
while the intelligent being continues to exift and to be intelligent,
it muft be the fame perfon. To fay that the intelligent being is
the perfon, and yet that the perfon ceafes to exift, while the intel-
ligent being continues, or that the perfon continues while the In-
telligent being ceafes to exift, is to my apprehenfion a manifeft
contradidion.

One

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF OUR PERSONAL IDENTITY. ^^^^

One would think that the definition of a perfon fhould perfedlly CHAP. VI.
afcertain the nature of perfonal identity, or wherein ic confifts,
though it might ftill be a queftion how we come to know and be
aflured of our perfonal identity.

Mr Locke tells us however, " that perfonal identity, that is, the
" famenefs of a rational being, confifts in confcioufnefs alone, ^nd,
" as far as this confcioufnefs can be extended backwards, to any
" paft a(5lion or thought, fo far reaches the identity of that per-
" fon. So that whatever hath the confcioufnefs of prefent and
" paft a<flions, is the fame perfon to whom they belong."

This dodrine hath fome ftrange confequences, which the author
was aware of. Such as, that if the fame confcioufnefs can be
transferred from one intelligent being to another, which he thinks
we cannot flaew to be impofilble, then two or twenty intelligent
beings may be the fame perfon. And if the intelligent being
may lofe the confcioufnefs of the adlions done by him, which
furely is poffible, then he is not the perfon that did thofe a(5lions ;
fo that one intelligent being may be two or twenty different per-
fons, if he fhall fo often lofe the confcioufnefs of his former adlions.

There is another confequence of this dodVrine, which follows no
lefs neceflarily, though Mr Locke probably did not fee it. It is,
that a man may be, and at the fame time not be, the perfon that
did a particular adion.

Suppofe a brave officer to have been flogged when a boy at
fchool, for robbing an orchard, to have taken a ftandard from the
enemy in his firft campaign, and to have been made a general in
advanced life : Suppofe alfo, which muft be admitted to be pof-
fible, that when he took the ftandard, he was confcious of his
having been flogged at fchool, and that when made a general he
was confcious of his taking the ftandard, but had abfolutely loft
the confcioufnefs of his flogging. .

Thefc

334

ESSAY IlL

CHAP. VI. Thefe things being fuppofed, it follows, from Mr Locke's
dodrine, that he who was flogged at fchool is the fame perfon who
took the flandard, and that he who took the ftandard is the fame
perfon who was made a general. Whence it follows, if there be
any truth in logic, that the general is the fame perfon with him
who was flogged at fchool. But the general's confcioufnefs does
not reach fo far back as his flogging, therefore, according to Mr

s^ Locke's dodlrine, he is not the perfon who was flogged. There-

fore the general is, and at the fame time is not the fame perfon
with him who was flogged at fchool.

Leaving the confequences of this dodrine to thofe who have
leifure to trace them, we may obferve, with regard to the doc-
trine itfelf,

F'trjl^ That Mr Locke attributes to confcioufnefs the convi(flion
we have of our pafl adlions, as if a man may now be confcious of
what he did twenty years ago. It is impoflible to underfland the
meaning of this, unlefs by confcioufnefs be meant memory, the
only faculty by which we have an immediate knowledge of our
paft adions.

Sometimes, in popular difcourfe, a man fays he is confcious that
he did fuch a thing, meaning that he diftincflly remembers that he
did it. It is unneceflary, in common difcourfe, to fix accurately
the limits between confcioufnefs and memory. This was former-
ly fliewn to be the cafe with regard to fenfe and memory : And
therefore difl;in(5l remembrance is fometimes called fenfe, fome-
times confcioufnefs, without any inconvenience.

But this ought to be avoided in philofophy, otherwife we con-
found the different powers of the mind, and afcribe to one what
really belongs to another. If a man can be confcious of what he
did twenty years or twenty minutes ago, there is no ufe for me-
mory, nor ought we to allow that there is any fuch faculty. The

faculties

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF OUR PERSONAL IDENTITY. 335

faculties of confcioufnefs and memory are chiefly difllnguifhed by >. ' 'j
this, that the firft is an immediate knowledge of the prefent, the
fecond an immediate knowledge of the paft.

When, therefore, Mr Locke's notion of perfonal identity is
properly exprelTed, it is, that perfonal identity confifts in diftinfl
remembrance : For, even in the popular fenfe, to fay that I am
confcious of a paft adlion, means nothing elfe than that I diftindlly
remember that I did it.

Secondly^ It may be obferved, that, in this dodlrine, not only is
confcioufnefs confounded with memory, but, which is ftill more
ftrange, perfonal identity is confounded with the evidence which
we have of our perfonal identity.

It is very true, that my remembrance that I did fuch a thing is
the evidence I have that I am the identical perfon who did it.
And this, I am apt to think, Mr Locke meant: But to fay that
my remembrance that I did fuch a thing, or my confcioufnefs,
makes me the perfon who did it, is, in my apprehenfion, an ab-
furdity too grofs to be entertained by any man who attends to the
meaning of it : For it is to attribute to memory or confcioufnefs a
ftrange magical power of producing its objecjt, though that obje<5l
muft have exifted before the memory or confcioufnefs which pro-
duced it.

Confcioufnefs is the teftimony of one faculty ; memory is the ^
teftimony of another faculty : And to fay that the teftimony is P
the caufe of the thing teftified, this furely is abfurd, if any thing
be, and could not have been faid by Mr Locke, if he had not con-
founded the teftimony with the thing teftified.

When a horfe that was ftolen is found and claimed by the owner,
the only evidence he can have, or that a judge or witnefles can
have that this is the very identical horfe which was his property,

is

336 ESSAY III.

CHAF, VI. is fimilitude. But would it not be ridiculous from this to infef
that the identity of a horfe confifts in fimilitude only ? The only
evidence I have that I am the identical perfon vvho did fuch adions
is, that I remember dlftindly I did them; or, as Mr Locke ex-
prefles it, I am confcious I did them. To infer from this, that
perfonal identity confifts in confcioufnefs, is an argument, which,
if it had any force, would prove the identity of a ftolen horfe to
confift folely in fimilitude.

Thirdly, Is it not ftrange that the famenefs or identity of a per-
lon fhould confift in a thing which is continually changing, and is
not any two minutes the fame ?

Our confcioufnefs, our memory, and every operation of the
mind, are ftill flowing like the water of a river, or like time itfelf.
The confcioufnefs I have this moment, can no more be the fame
confcioufnefs I had laft moment, than this moment can be the
laft moment. Identity can only be affirmed of things which have
a continued exiftence. Confcioufnefs, and every kind of thought,
is tranfient and momentary, and has no continued exiftence ; and
therefore, if perfonal identity confifted in confcioufnefs, it would
certainly follow, that no man is the fame perfon any two moments
of his life; and as the right and juftice of reward and punifhment
is founded on perfonal identity, no man could be refponfible for
his a(flions.

But though I take this to be the unavoidable confequence of Mr
Locke's dodlrine concerning perfonal identity, and though fome
perfons may have liked the dodlrine the better on this account, I am
far from imputing any thing of this kind to Mr Locke. He was
too good a man not to have rejedled with abhorrence a do(5lrine
which he believed to draw this confequence after it.

Fourthly^ There are many exprefllons ufed by Mr Locke in
fpeaking of perfonal identity, which to me are altogether unintel-
ligible,

LOCKE'S ACCOUNT OF OUR PERSONAL IDENTITY.

ligible, iinlefs we fuppofe that he confounded that famenefs or iden-
tity, which we afcribe to an individual, with the identity which in
common difcourfe is ofcen afcribed to many individuals of the fame
fpecies.

When we fay that pain and pleafure, confcioufnefs and memory,
are the fame in all men, this famenefs can only mean fimilarity, or
famenefs of kind ; but that the pain of one man can be the dime
individual pain with that of another man, is no lefs impoffible than
that one man Ihould be another man ; the pain felt by me yefter-
day, can no more be the pain I feel to-day, than yefterday can be
this day ; and the fame thing may be faid of every paffion and of
every operation of the mind : The fame kind or fpecies of operation
may be in different men, or in the fame man at different times ;
but it is impoffible that the fame individual operation fliould be in
different men, or in the fame man at different times.

When Mr Locke therefore fpeaks of " the fame confcioufnefs
" being continued through a fucceflion of different fubflances ;"
when he fpeaks of " repeating the idea of a paft adion, with the
" fame confcioufnefs we had of it at the firft," and of " the fame
" confcioufnefs extending to a<5lions paft and to come;" thefe ex-
preffions are to me unintelligible, unlefs he means not the fame in-
dividual confcioufnefs, but a confcioufnefs that is fimilar, or of the
fame kind.

If our perfonal identity conflfts in confcioufnefs, as this confci-
oufnefs cannot be the fame individually any two moments, but
only of the fame kind, it would follow, that we are not for any two
moments the fame individual perfbns, but the fame kind of perfons.

As our confcioufnefs fomctimes ccafes to exifl, as in found fleep,
our perfonal identity muft ceafe with it. Mr Locke allows, that the
fame thing cannot have two beginnings of exiftence, fo that our
identity would be irrecoverably gone every time we ceafe to think,
if it was but for a moment.

U u CHAP.

338 ESSAY III.

CHAP. VII.

CHAP. VII.
'Theories concerti'uig Memory.

THE common theory of ideas, that is of images in the brain
or in the mind, of all the obje<3:s of thought, has been very
generally applied to account for the faculties of memory and ima-
gination, as well as that of perception by the fenfes.

The fentiments of the Peripatetics are exprefled by Alexander
Aphrodisiensis, one of the earlieft Greek Commentators on
Aristotle, in thefe words, as they are tranflated by Mr Harris
in his Hermes, " Now what fancy or imagination is, we may
" explain as follows : We may conceive to be formed within us,
" from the operations of our fenfes about fenfible objedls, fome
" imprellion, as it were, or pi(5lure in our original fenforium, be-
*' ing a reli<5t of that motion caufed within us by the external ob-
" jecl ; a relidl, which when the external obje<5l is no longer pre-
" fent, remains, and is flill preferved, being as it were its image,
" and which, by being thus preferved, becomes the caufe of our
" having memory : Now fuch a fort of reli<fl, and as it were im-
" preflion, they call fancy or imagination."

Another paiTage from Alcinous of the do&rines of Plato,
chap. 4. fiiews the agreement of the ancient Platonifts and Peripa-
tetics in this theory, " When the form or type of things is im-
" printed on the mind by the organs of the fenfes, and fo imprinted
" as not to be deleted by time, but preferved firm and lafling, its
*' prefervation is called memory."

Upon this principle Aristotle imputes the fhortncfs of me-
mory in children to this caufe, that their brain is too moifl and

fofc

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 339

foft to retain impreflions made upon it : And the defedl of memory CHAP, vir.
in old men he imputes, on the contrary, to the hardnefs and rigidity
of the brain, which hinders its receiving any durable impreffion.

This ancient theory of the caufe of memory is defedive in two
refpedls : Firji^ If the caufe affigned did really exift, it by no means
accounts for the phsenomenon : And.,fecondly^ There is no evidence,
nor even probability, that that caufe exifts.

It is probable, that in perception fome impreiHon is made upon
the brain as well as upon the organ and nerves, becaufe all the
nerves terminate in the brain, and becaufe diforders and hurts of
the brain are found to affecl our powers of perception when the ex-
ternal organ and nerve are found j but we are totally ignorant of
the nature of this impreffion upon the brain : It can have no re-
femblance to the obje£l perceived, nor does it in any degree account
for that fenfation and perception which are confequent upon it.
Thefe things have been argued in the fecond Eflay, and fhall now
be taken for granted, to prevent repetition.

If the impreffion upon the brain be infufficient to account for
the perception of objefls that are prefent, it can as little account
for the memory of thofe that are pad.

So that if it were certain, that the impreffions made on the
brain in perception remain as long as there is any memory of the
objedl ; all that could be inferred from this is, that, by the laws
of Nature, there is a connedlion eftablifhed between that impref-
fion, and the remembrance of that objecft. But how the impref-
fion contributes to this remembrance, we ihould be quite ignorant ;
it being impoffible to difcover how thought of any kind Ihould be
produced, by an impreffion on the brain, or upon any part of the body.

To fay that this impreffion is memory, is abfurd, if underftood
literally. If it is only meant that it is the caufe of memory, it

U u 2 ought

340

ESSAY III.

CHAF. VII. ought to be fliovvn how it produces this 'effedl, otherwife mepaory
remains as unaccountable as before.

If a Philofopher fliould undertake to account for the force of
gunpowder, in the difcharge of a muflcet, and then tell us grave-
ly, that the caufe of this pha:noment>n is the drawing of the trig-
ger, we Ihoulcl not be much wifer by this account. As little are
we infl;ru6led in the caufe of memory, by being told that it is
caufed by a certain impreflion on the brain. For fuppofing, that
impreflion on the brain were as neceflary to memory as th€ draw-
ing of the trigger is to the difcharge of the muflcet, we are ftill
as ignorant as we were how memory is produced ; fo that, if the
caufe of memory, affigned by this theory, did really exifl, it does
not in any degree accouat fpr memory.

Another defedl in this theory is, that there is no evidence, nor
probability that the caufe affigned does exift ; that is, that the im-
])reffion made xipon the brain in perception remains after the ob-
jedl is removed.

That impreffion, whatever be its nature, is caufed by the irapref-
fion made by the objecfl upon the organ of {enfcy and upon the
nerve. Philofophers fuppofe, without any evidence, that when the
objedl is removed, and the impreffion upon the organ and nerve
ceafes, the impreffion upon the brain continues, and is permanent;
that is, that when the caufe is removed the effe<fl continues. The
brain furely does not appear more fitted to retain an impreffion
than the organ and nerve.

But granting that the impreffion upon the brain continues after
its caufe is removed, its cffecls ought to continue while it conti-
nues ; that is, the fenfation and perception fhould be as permanent
as the impreffion upon the brain, which is fuppofed to be their
caufe. But Kere again the Philofopher makes a fecond fuppofition,

with.

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 341

with as little evidence, but of a contrary nature, to wit, that, CHAP. VIL
while the caufe remains, the effcd ceafcs.

If this fhould be granted alfo, a third mufl be made, That the
fame caufe, which at firft produced fenfation and perception, does
afterwards produce memory; an operation effentially diiferent,
both from fenfation and perception.

A fourth fuppofition mufl be made, That this caufe, though it
be permanent, does not produce its effedl at all times j it mufl be
like an infcrlption which is fometimes covered with rubbifli, and
on other occafions made legible : For the memory of things is often
interrupted for a long time, and circumflances bring to our recol-
ledlion what had been long forgot. After all, many things are re-
membered which were never perceived by the fcnfes, being no ob-
je<5ls of fenfe, and therefore which could make no imprelTion upoa
the brain" by means of the fenfes.-

Thus, when Philofophers have piled one fuppofition upon an-
other, as the giants piled the mountains, in order to fcale the hea-
vens, all is to no purpole, memory remains unaccountable j and
we know a« little how we remember things paft, as how we are
confcious of the prefent.

But here it is proper to obferve, that although imprefUons upon
the brain give no aid in accounting for memory, yet it is very pro-
bable, that, in the human frame, memory is dependent on fome
proper flate or temperament of the brain.

Although the furniture of our memory bears no refemblance tO'
any temperament of brain whatfoever, as indeed it is impollible it
fhould ; yet Nature may have fubjecled us to this law, that a cer-
tain conllitution or ftate of the brain is neceffary to memory.
That- this is really the cafe, many well known fadls lead us to
conclude.

fir

342 ESSAY III.

CHAP. VII. It is pofllble, that, by 'accurate obfervation, the proper means
may be difcovered of preferving that temperament of the brain
which is favourable to memory, and of remedying the diforders
of that temperament. This would be a very noble improvement
of the medical art. But if it fhould ever be attained, it would
give no aid to underftand how one ftate of the brain aflifts memo-
ry, and another hurts it.

I know certainly, that the imprefllon made upon my hand by
the prick of a pin occafions acute pain. But can any Philofopher
Ihow how this caufe produces the efFed ? The nature of the im-
preffion is here perfedly known ; but it gives no help to underftand
how that imprefllon afFe(5ls the mind ; and if we knew as diftin<fl-
ly that ftate of the brain which caufes memory, we fliould ftill be
as ignorant as before how that ftate contributes to memory. We
might have been fo conftituted, for any thing that I know, that the
prick of a pin in the hand, inftead of caufing pain, Ihould caufe
remembrance ; nor would that conftitution be more unaccountable
than the prefent.

The body and mind operate on each other, according to fixed
laws of Nature ; and it is the bufinefs of a Philofopher to difcover
thofe laws by obfervation and experiment : But, when he has dif-
covered them, he muft reft in them as fads, whofe caufe is infcru-
table to the human underftanding.

Mr Locke, and thofe who have followed him, fpeak with more
referve than the ancients, and only incidentally, of impreflions on
the brain as the caufe of memory, and impute it rather to our re-
taining in our minds the ideas, got either by fenfation or refled:ion.

This, Mr Locke fays, may be done two ways ; " Fhjl^ by
" keeping the idea for fome time actually in view, which is called
** contemplation. Secondly^ by the power to revive again in our minds
*' thofe ideas, which, after imprinting, have difappeared, or have

** been,

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 343

" been, as it were, laid out of fight ; and this is memory, which CHAP. vir.
" is, as it were, the ftorehoufe of our ideas."

To explain this more diftindly, he immediately adds the follow-
ing obfervation : " But our ideas being nothing but adual per-

" ceptions in the mind, which ceafe to be any thing, when there is

" no perception of them, this laying up of our ideas in the repo-

" fitory of the memory, fignifies no more but this, that the mind

" has a power, in many cafes, to revive perceptions which it once

" had, with this additional perception annexed to them, that it has

*' had them before ; and in this fenfe it is, that our ideas are faid

*' to be in our memories, when indeed they are a(5lually no where ;

*' but only there is an ability in the mind, when it will, to revive

" them again, and, as it were, paint them anew upon itfelf, though

" fome with more, fome with lefs difBculty, fome more lively, and

" others more obfcurely." '

In this accoimt of memory, the repeated ufe of the phrafe, as
it were^ leads one to judge that it is partly figurative ; we muft
therefore endeavour to diftinguifli the figurative part from the phi-
lofophical. The firft being addrefl!ed to the imagination, exhibits
a pi(5lure of memory, which, to have its efFe(5l, muft be viewed at
a proper diftance, and from a particular point of view. The fe-
cond being addreffed to the underflanding, ought to bear a near
infpeclion, and a critical examination.

The analogy between memory and a repofitory, and between re-
membering and retaining, is obvious, and is to be found in all
languages, it being very natural to exprefs the operations of the
mind by images taken from things material. But in philofophy we
ought to draw afide the veil of imagery, and to view them naked.

When therefore memory is faid to be a repofitory or ftorehoufe
of ideas, where they are laid up when not perceived, and again
brought forth as there is occafion, I take this to be popular and

rhetorical.

344 ESSAY III.

^^^^^iXiV i"^ietorlcal. For the author tells us, that when they are not per-
ceived, they are nothing, and no where, and therefore can neither
be laid up in a repofitory, nor drawn out of it.

But we are told, " That this laying up of our ideas in the repo-
fitory of the memory fignifies no more than this, that the mind
has a power to revive perceptions, which it once had, with this ad-
ditional perception annexed to them, that it has had them before."
This I think muft be underftood literally and philofophically.

But it feems to me as difficult to revive things that have ceafed
to be any thing, as to lay them up in a repofitory, or to bring
them out of it. When a thing is once annihilated, the fame thing
cannot be again produced, though another thing fimilar to it may.
Mr Locke, in another place, acknowledges, that the fame thing
cannot have two beginnings of exiftence ; and that things that
have different beginnings are not the fame, but diverfe. From
this it follows, that an ability to revive our ideas or perceptions,
after they have ceafed to be, can fignify no more but an ability to
create new ideas or perceptions fimilar to thofe we had before.

They are faid " to be revived, with this additional perception,
that we have had them before." This furely would be a fallaci-
ous perception, fince they could not have two beginnings of exifl-
ence ; nor could we believe them to have two beginnings of exifl-
ence. We can only believe, that we had formerly ideas or percep-
tions very like to them, though not identically the fame. But
whether we perceive them to be the fame, or only like to thofe we
had before, this perception, one would think, fuppofes a remem-
brance of thofe we had before, otherwife the fimilitude or identity
could not be perceived.

Another phrafe is ufed to explain this reviving of our percep-
tions. " The mind, as it were, paints them anew upon itfelf."
There may be fomething figurative in this ; but making due al-

»^ lowance

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 345

lowance for that, it muft imply, that the mind, which paints the chap, vii.
things that have ceafed to exifl, miifl have the memory of what
they were, fince every painter muft have a copy either before his
eye, or in his imagination and memory.

Thefe remarks upon Mr Locke's account of memory are in-
tended to fhow, that his fyftem of ideas gives no Ught to this fa-
culty, but rather tends to darken it ; as little does it make us un-
derftand how we remember, and by that means have the certain
knowledge of things part.

Every man knows what memory is, and has a diftindl notion of
it: But when Mr Locke fpeaks of a power to revive in the mind
thofe ideas, which, after imprinting, have difappeared, or have been,
as it were, laid out of fight, one would hardly know this to be me-
mory, if he had not told us. There are other things which it
feems to refemble at leaft as much. I fee before me the pidlure of
a friend. I fhut my eyes, or turn them another way; and the
picture difappears, or is, as it were, laid out of fight. I have a
power to turn my eyes again towards the pidlure, and immediate-
ly the perception is revived. But is this memory ? no furely ; yet
it anfwers the definition as well as memory itfelf can do.

We may obferve, that the word perception is ufed by Mr Locke
in too indefinite a way, as well as the word idea.

Perception, in the chapter upon that fubje<5l, is faid to be the
firft faculty of the mind exercifed about our ideas. Here we are
told that ideas are nothing but perceptions : Yet I apprehend it,
would found oddly to fay, that perception is the firft faculty of
the mind exercifed about perception ; and ftill more ftrangely to
fay, that ideas are the firft faculty of the mind exercifed about our
ideas. But why Ihould not ideas be a faculty as well as percep-
tion, if both are the fame ?

X X Memory •"

346 ESSAY III.

CHAP. vil. Memory is faid to be a power to revive our perceptions. Wilt
it not follovsr from this, that every thing that can be remembered
is a perception ? If this be fo, it will be difficult to find any thing-
in nature but perceptions.

Our ideas, we are told, are nothing but adual perceptions ; but
in many places of the EfTay, ideas are faid to be the obje(5ts of
perception, and that the mind, in all its thoughts and reafonings,
has no other immediate objecfl which it does or can contemplate
but its own ideas. Does it not appear from this, either that Mr
Locke held the operations of the mind to be the fame thing with
the objects of thofe operations, or that he ufed the word idea fome-
times in one fenfe and fometimes in another, without any intima-
tion, and probably without any apprehenfion of its ambiguity ? It
is an article of Mr Hume's philofophy, that there is no diflindion
between the operations of the mind and their objedls. But I fee
no reafon to impute this opinion to Mr Locke. I rather think,
that, notwithftanding his great judgment and candour, his under-
ftanding was entangled by the ambiguity of the word idea, and
that moft of the imperfe«5lions of liis ElTay are owing to that caufe.

Mr Hume faw farther into the confequences of the common
fyflem concerning ideas than any author had done before him.
He faw the abfurdity of making every objedl of thought double,
and fplitting it into a remote obje<fl, which has a feparate and per-
manent exiftence, and an immediate obje(5l, called an idea or im-
preffion, which is an image of the former, and has no exiftence,
but when we are confcious of it. According to this fyftem, we
have no intercourfe with the external world, but by means of the
internal world of ideas, which reprefents the other to the mind.

He faw it was neceffary to reject one of thefe worlds as a fic-
tion, and the queflion was. Which fhould be rejedled ? Whether
all mankind, learned and unlearned, had feigned the exiftence of
the external world without good reafon I or whether Philofophers

had

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 347

had feigned the internal world of ideas, in order to account for CHAP.vii,
the intercourfe of the mind with the external ? Mr Hume adopt-
ed the firft of thefe opinions, and employed his reafon and elo-
quence in fupport of it.

Bilhop Berkeley had gone fo far in the fame track as to reje(fl
the material world as fiditious ; but it was left to Mr Hume to
complete the fyftem.

According to his fyftem, therefore, impreflions and ideas in his
own mind are the only things a man can know, or can conceive :
Nor are thefe ideas reprefentatives, as they were in the old fyftem.
There is nothing elfe in nature, or at leaft within the reach of our
faculties, to be reprefented. What the vulgar call the perception
of an external objedl, is nothing but a ftrong impreffion upon
the mind. What we call the remembrance of a paft event, is no-
thing but a prefent impreffion or idea, weaker than the former.
And what we call imagination, is ftill a prefent idea, but weaker
than that of memory.

That I may not do him injuftice, thefe are his words in his
Treatife of Human Nature, page 193.

" We find by experience, that when any impreffion has been

" prefent with the mind, it again makes its appearance there as an

" idea ; and this it may do after two different ways, either when

" in its new appearance it retains a confiderable degree of its firft

" vivacity, and is fomewhat intermediate betwixt an impreffion

" and an idea, or when it entirely lofes that vivacity, and is a per-

" fedl idea. The faculty by. which we repeat our impreffions in

" the firft manner, is called the memory, and the other the ima^-

" gination."

Upon this account of memory and imagination I fhall make
fome remarks.

X X 2 Firjl,

348 ESSAY III.

CHAP. VII. Firjl^ I wlfh to know, what we are here to underftand by expe-
rience ? It is faid, we find all this by experience ; and I conceive
nothing can be meant by this experience but memory. Not that
inemory which our author defines, but memory in the common
acceptation of the word. According to vulgar apprehenfion, me-
mory is an immediate knowledge of fomething paft. Our author
does not admit that there is any fuch knowledge in the human
mind. He maintains that memory is nothing but a prefent idea
or impreffion. But, in defining what he takes memory to be, he
takes for granted that kind of memory which he reje<5ls. For can
we find by experience, that an impreffion, after its firfl appear-
ance to the mind, makes a fecond, and a third, with difterent de-
grees of ftrength and vivacity, if we have not fo diftind a remem-
brance of its firft appearance, as enables us to know it, upon its
fecond and third, notwithftanding that, in the interval, it has un-
dergone a very confiderable change ?

All experience fuppofes memory ; and there caix be no fuch
thing as experience, without trufting to our own memory, or that
of others: So that it appears from Mr Hume's account of this
matter, that he found himfelf to have that kind of memory, which
he acknowledges and defines, by exercifing that kind which he
reje<5ls.

Secondly^ What is it we find by experience or memory ? It is,
" That when an impreffion has been prefent with the mind, it
" again makes its appearance there as an idea, and that aftev
" two different ways."

If experience informs us of this, it certainly deceives us ; for
the thing is impoffible, and the author fliews it to be fo. Impref-
fions and ideas are fleeting perifliable things, which have no exig-
ence, but when we are confcious of them. If an impreffion could
make a fecond and a third appearance to the mind, it muft have a
continued exiftence during the interval of thefe appearances, which

Mr

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 349

Mr Hume acknowledges to be a grofs abfurdity. It feems then, CHAP, vii.
that we find, by experience, a thing which is impoffible. We arc
impofed upon by our experience, and made to beUeve contra-
dictions.

Perhaps it may be faid, that thefe different appearances of the
impreffion are not to be underftood hterally, but figuratively ;
that the impreffion is perfonified, and made to appear at different
times, and in different habits, when no more is meant, but that an
impreffion appears at one time ; afterwards a thing of a middle
nature, between an impreffion and an idea, wliich we call memory,
and lafl of all a perfedl idea, which we call imagination : that
this figurative meaning agrees befl with the kfl fentence of the
period, where we are told, that memory and imagination are facul-
ties, whereby we repeat our impreflions in a more or lefs lively-
manner. To repeat an impreffion is a figurative way of fpeaking,
which fignifiea making a new impreffion fimilar to the former.

If, to avoid the abfurdity implied in the literal meaning, we
underftand the Philofopher in this figurative one, then his defini-
tions of memory and imagination, when ftripped of the figurative
drefs, will amount to this. That memory is the faculty of making
a weak impreffion, and imagination the faculty of making an im-
preffion flill weaker, after a correfponding flrong one. Thefe de-
finitions of memory and imagination labour under two defe(5ls ;
firjl^ That they convey no nation of the thing defined; and,y^-
condly. That they may be applied to things of a quite different na-
ture from thofe that are defined.

When we are faid to have a faculty of making a weak impref-
fion after a correfponding flrong one, it would not be eafy to con-
je<5lure that this faculty is memory. Suppofe a man flrikes his
head fmartly againfl the wall, this is an impreffion ; now he has a
faculty by which he can repeat this impreffion with lefs force, fo
as not to hurt him j this, by\Mr Home's account,^ mufl be me-
mory.

ESSAY III.

mory. He has a faculty by which he can juft touch the wall with
his head, fo that the impreffion entirely lofes its vivacity. This
furely muft be imagination ; at leaft it comes as near to the defini-
tion given of it by Mr Hume as any thing I can conceive.

Thirdly^ We may obferve, that when we are told that we have
a faculty of repeating our imprelllons in a more or lefs lively man-
ner, this implies that we are the efficient caufes of our ideas of
menjory and imagination ; but this contradicts what the author
fays a little before, where he proves, by what he calls a convincing
argument, that impreflions are the caufe of their correfponding
ideas. The argument that proves this had need indeed to be very
convincing ; whether we make the idea to be a fecond appearance
of the impreffion, or a new impreffion fimilar to the former.

If the firfl be true, then the impreffion is the caufe of itfelf. If
the fecond, then the impreffion after it is gone, and has no exift-
ence, produces the idea. Such are the myfleries of Mr Hume's
philofophy.

It may be obferved, that the common fyflem, that ideas are the
only immediate objedls of thought, leads to fcepticifm with regard
to memory, as well as with regard to the objedls of fenfe, whether
thofe ideas are placed in the mind or in the brain.

Ideas are faid to be things internal and prefent, which have no
exiflence but during the moment they are in the mind. The ob-
jedls of fenfe are things external, which have a continued exiflence.
When it is maintained, that all that we immediately perceive is only
ideas or phantafms, how can we, from the exiflence of thofe phan-
tafms, conclude the exiflence of an external world correfponding
to them ?

This difficult queflion feems not to have occurred to the Peripa-
tetics. Des Cartes faw the difficulty, and endeavoured to find

out

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 351

out arguments by which, from the exlftence of our phantafms or CHAP.vir.
ideas, we might infer the exiflence of external objedls. The fame
courfe was followed by Malebranche, Arnauld, and Locke;
but Berkeley and Hume ealily refuted all their arguments, and
demonftrated that there is no flrength in them.

The fame difficulty with regard to memory naturally arifes from
the fyftem of ideas ; and the only reafon why it was not obferved
by Philofophers, is, becaufe they give lefs attention to the memory
than to the fenfes : For fince ideas are things prefent, how can we,
from our having a certain idea prefently in our mind, conclude that
an event really happened ten or twenty years ago correfponding to it ?

There is the fame need of arguments to prove, that the ideas of
memory are pi<5lures of things that really did happen, as that the
ideas of fenfe are pidlures of external objects which now exift. In
both cafes, it will be impoffible to find any argument that has real
weight. So that this hypothefis leads us to abfolute fcepticifm,
with regard to thofe things which we moft; diflindlly remember, na
lefs than with regard to the external objedls of fenfe.

It does not appear to have occurred either to Locke or to Berke-
ley, that their fyftem has the fame tendency to overturn the tefti-
mony of memory as the teftimony of the fenfes.

Mr Hume faw farther than both, and found this confequence
of the fyftem of ideas perfe(flly correfponding to his aim of efta-
blifhing univerfal fcepticifm. His fyftem is therefore more confift-
ent than theirs, and the conclufions agree better with the premifes.

But if we {hould grant to Mr Hume, that ourideas of memory
afford no juft ground to believe the paft exiftence of things which
we remember, it may ftill be afl^ed. How it comes to pafs that per-
ception and memory are accompanied with belief, while bare ima-
gination is not ? Though this belief cannot be juftified upon hrs

fyftem.

35a ESSAY III.

CHAP. VII. fyftem, it ought to be accounted for as a phsenomenon of human
nature.

This he has done, by giving us a new theory of belief in general ;
a theory which-fuits very well with that of ideas, and feems to be a
natural confequence of it, and which at the fame time reconciles
all the belief that we find in human nature to perfedl fcepticifm.

What then is this belief? It muft either be an idea, or fome mo-
dification of an idea ; we conceive many things which we do not
believe. The idea of an objedl is the fame whether we believe it
to exift, or barely conceive it. The belief adds no new idea to the
conception ; it is therefore nothing but a modification of the idea
of the thing believed, or a different manner of conceiving it. Hear
himfelf :

" All the perceptions of the mind are of two kinds, impreflions

** and ideas, which differ from each other only in their different

" degrees of force and vivacity. Our ideas are copied from our

*' impreflions, and reprefent them in all their parts. When you

" would vary the idea of a particular obje<5l, you can only increafe

" or diminifli its force and vivacity : If you make any other

" change upon it, it reprefents a different objedl or imprefllon.

" The cafe is the lame as in colours. A particular fhade of any

*' colour may acquire a new degree of livelinefs or brightnefs,

" without any other variation : But when you produce any other

*' variation, it is no longer the fame fliade or colour. So that as

" belief does nothing but vary the manner in which we conceive

" any obje(5l, it can only beflow on our ideas an additional force

*' and vivacity. An opinion, therefore, or belief, may be moft

" accurately defined a lively idea, related to or aflbciated with a

" prcfent imprefllon."

This theory of belief is very fruitful of confequences, which
Mr Hume traces with his ufual acutenefs, and brings into the

fervice

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. ^^^

fervice of his fyftenft. A gfeat part of his fyllem indeed is built chap. vii.
upon it ; and it is of itfelf fuflicient to prove what he calls his hy-
pothefis, " that belief is more properly an a<5l of the fenfitire than
of tlie cogitative part of our natures."

It is very difficult to examine this account of belief with the
fame gravity with which it is propofed. It puts one in mind of
the ingenious account giveh by Martinus Scriblerus of the
power of fyllogifm, by making the major the male, and the minor
the female, which being coupled by the middle term, generate the
conclufion. There is furely no fcience in which men of great
parts and ingenuity have fallen into fuch grofs abfurdities as in
treating of the powers of the mind. I cannot help thinking, that
never any thing more abfurd was gravely maintained by any Phi-
lofopher, than this account of the nature of belief, and of the
diftindlion of perception, memory, and imagination.

The belief of a propofition is an operation of mind of which
every man is confcious, and \«^hat it is he underftands perfectly,
though, on account of its fimplicity, he cannot give a logical de-
finition of it. If he compares it with flrength or vivacity of his
ideas, or with any modification of ideas, they are fo far from ap-
pearing to be one and the fame, that they have not the leaft fimilitude.

That a ftrong belief and a weak belief differ only in degree, I can
eafily comprehend ; but that belief and no belief fhould differ on-
ly in degree, no man can believe who underftands what he fpeaks :
For this is in reality to fay that fomething and nothing differ on-
ly in degree, or that nothing is a degree of fomething.

Every propofition that may be the objedl of belief, has a con-
trary propofition that may be the obje(5l of a contrary belief. The
ideas of both, according to Mr Hume, are the fame, and differ
only in degrees of vivacity. That is, contraries differ only
in degree ; and fo pleafure may be a degree of pain, and

Y V hatred

354 ESSAY III.

CHAP. VII. hatred a degree of love. But it is to no purpofe to trace the ab-
furdities that follow from this do<5lrine, for none of them can be
more abfurd than the dodrine itfelf.

Every man knows perfedly what it is to fee an obje<5l with his
eyes, what it is to remember a paft event, and what it is to con-
ceive a thing which has no exiftence. That thefe are quite dif-
ferent operations of his mind, he is as certain as that found dif-
fers from colour, and both from tafte ; and I can as eafily believe
that found, and colour, and tafte, differ only in degree, as that
feeing, and remembering, and imagining, differ only in degree.

Mr Hume, in the third volume of his Treatife of Human Na-
ture, is fenfible that his theory of belief is liable to ftrong ob-
je(flions, and feems, in fome meafure, to retrac5l it ; but in what
meafure, it is not eafy to fay. He feems ftill to think that belief
is only a modification of the idea, but that vivacity is not a pro-
per term to exprefs that modification. Inflead of it he ufes fome
analogical phrafes to explain that modification, fuch as " appre-
•' hending the idea more flrongly, or taking fafter hold of it."

There is nothing more meritorious in aPhilofopher than to retra<3:
an error upon convidion ; but in this inflance I humbly apprehend
Mr Hume claims that merit upon too flight a ground : For I can-
not perceive that the apprehending an idea more ftrongly, or
taking fafler hold of it, expreffes any other modification of the
idea than what was before expreffed by its flrength and vivacity, or
even that it expreffes the fame modification more properly. What-
ever modification of the idea he makes belief to be, whether its
vivacity, or fome other without a name, to make perception, me-
mory, and imagination, to be the different degrees of that modi-
fication, is chargeable with the abfurdities we have mentioned.

Before we leave this fubjetll of memory, it is proper to take
notice of a diftindion which Aristotle makes between memo-
ry

THEORIES CONCERNING MEMORY. 355

ry and reminifcence, becaufe the diflindlion has a real foundation CHAP, vir.
in nature, though in our language I think we do not diftinguiih
them by different names.

Memory is a kind of habit which is not always in exercife with
regard to things we remember, but is ready to fuggefl them when
there is occafion. The moft perfed degree of this habit is, when
the thing prefents itfelf to our remembrance fpontaneoufly, and
without labour, as often as there is occafion. A fecond degree is,
when the thing is forgot for a longer or fliorter time, even when
there is occafion to remember it, yet at laft fome incident brings
it to mind without any fearch. A third degree is, when we cafl
about and fearch for what we would remember, and fo at laft
find it out. It is this laft, I think, which Aristotle calls re-
minifcence, as diftinguiflied from memory.

Reminifcence, therefore, includes a will to recolledl fomething
paft, and a fearch for it. But here a difficulty occurs. It may
be faid, that what we will to remember we muft conceive, as
there can be no will without a conception of the thing willed.
A will to remember a thing, therefore, feems to imply that we
remember it already, and have no occafion to fearch for it. But
this difficulty is eafily removed. When we will to remember a
thing, we muft remember fomething relating to it, which gives us
a relative conception of it ; but we may, at the fame time, have no
conception what the thing is, but only what relation it bears to
fomething elfe. Thus, I remember that a friend charged me with
a commiffion to be executed at fuch a place ; but I have forgot
what the commiffion was. By applying my thought to what I
remember concerning it, that it was given by fuch a perfon, upon
fuch an occafion, in confequence of fuch a converfation, I am
led, in a train of thought, to the very thing I had forgot, and
recolle<5l diftindly what the commiffion was.

Aristotle fays, that brutes have not reminifcence, and this I

y y 2 think

35^

ESSAY

III.

CHAP. VII. think is probable ; but, fays he, they have memory. It cannot^
indeed, be doubted but they have fomething very Uke to it, and
in fome inftances in a very great degree. A dog knows his mafter
after long abfence. A horfe will trace back a road he has once
gone as accurately as a man ; and this is th$ more ftrange, that
the train of thought which he had \n going muft be reverfed in
his return. It is very like to fome prodigious memories we read
of, where a perfon, upon hearing an hundred names or uncon-
nedled words pronounced, can begin at the laft, and go back-
wards to the firft, without lofing or mifplacing one. Brutes cer-
tainly may learn much from experience, which feems to imply
memory.

Yet I fee no reafon to think that brutes meafure time as men
do, by days, months, or years, or that they have any di£lin<5t
knowledge of the interval between things which they remember,
or of their diftance from the prefent moment. If we could not
record tranfaiflions according to their dates, human memory would
be fomething very different from what it is, and perhaps refemble
more the memory of brutes.

ESSAY

357

CHAP. I.
^ ^ '

ESSAY IV-

OF CONCEPTION.

CHAP. I.

Of Conception f or fimple Apprehenfion in GeneraL

CONCEIVING, imagining, apprehending, underftanding,
having a norion of a thing, are common words ufed to ex-
prefs that operation of the underftanding, which the Logicians call
fimple apprehenfion. The having an idea of a thing, is in common
language ufed in the fame fenfe, chiefly I think fince Mr Locke's-
time.

Logicians define fimple apprehenfion to be the bare conception
of a thing without any judgment or belief about it. If this were
intended for a ftricflly logical definition, it might be a juft objedtion
, to it, that conception and apprehenfion are only fynonymous words;
and chat we may as well define conception by apprehenfion, as ap-
prehenfion by conception ; but it ought to be remembered, that the
mod: fimple operations of the mind cannot be logically defined.-
To have a diftindl notion of them, we muft attend to them as we
feel them in our own minds. He that would have a diflin(fl no-
tion of a fcarlet colour, will never attain it by a definition ; he muft
fet it before his eye, attend to it, compare it with the colours that
come neareft to it, and obferve the fpecific difference, which he will

in vain attempt to define..

Every

35^ E S S A Y IV.

?^^J' ^'j Every man is confcious that he can conceive a thoufand things,
of which he believes nothing at all ; as a horfe with wings, a moun-
tain of gold ; but although conception may be without any degree
of belief, even the fmalleft belief cannot be without conception.
He that believes, mull have fomc conception of what he believes.

Without attempting a definition of this operation of the mind,
I fhall endeavour to explain fome of its properties ; confider the
' theories about it ; and take notice of fome miftakes of Philofophers

concerning it.

I. It may be obferved, that conception enters as an ingredient in
every operation of the mind : Our fenfes cannot give us the belief
of any objedl, without giving fome conception of it at the fame
time: No man can either remember or reafon about things of which
he hath no conception : When we will to exert any of our a(5live
powers, there muft be fome conception of what we will to do :
There can be no defire nor averfion, love nor hatred, without fome
conception of the objedl : We cannot feel pain without conceiving
it, though we can conceive it without feeling it. Thefe things are
felf-evident.

In every operation of the mind therefore, in every thing we call
thought there muft be conception : When we analyfe the various
operations either of the underftanding or of the will, we fhall al-
ways find this at the bottom, like the caput mortuum of the Chemifts,
or the materia prima of the Peripatetics ; but though there is no
operation of mind without conception, yet it may be found naked,
detached from all others, and then it is called fimple apprehenfion,
or the bare conception of a thing.

As all the operations of our mind are exprefTed by language,
every one knows, that it is one thing to underftand what is faid,
to conceive or apprehend its meaning, whether it be a word, a fen-
tence, or a difcourfe j it is another thing to judge of it, to aiTent

or

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 359

or diffent, to be perfuaded or moved. The firft is fimple appre- CHAP, i.^
henfion, and may be without the lafl, but the laft cannot be with-
out the firft.

2. In bare conception there can neither be truth nor falfehood,
becaufe it neither affirms nor denies. Every judgment, and every
propofition by which judgment is exprefTed, muft be true or falfe;
and the qualities of true and falfe, in their proper fenfe, can be-
long to nothing but to judgments, or to propofitions which exprefs
judgment. In the bare conception of a thing there is no judg-
ment, opinion, or belief included, and therefore it cannot be either
true or falfe.

But it may be faid, Is there any thing more certain than that
men may have true or falfe conceptions, ti ue or falfe apprehenfions,
of things ? I anfwer, That fuch ways of fpeaking are indeed fo
common, and fo well authorifed by cuftom, the arbiter of lan-
guage, that it would be prefumption to cenfure them. It is hard-
ly poffible to avoid ufing them. But we ought to be upon our
guard that we be not mifled by them, to confound things, which,
though often exprefTed by the fame words, are really different. We
muft therefore remember what was before obferved, Effay I. chap. i.
That all the words, by which we fignify the bare conception of a
thing, are likewife ufed to fignify our opinions, when we wifti to
exprefs them with modefty and diffidence. And we fhall always
find, that, when we fpeak of true or falfe conceptions, we mean
true or falfe opinions. An opinion, though ever fo wavering, or
ever fo modeftly expreffed, muft be either true or falfe ; but a
bare conception, which exprefles no opinion or judgment, can be
neither.

If we analyfe thofe fpeeches, in which men attribute truth or
falfehood to our conceptions of things, we fliall find in every cafe,
that there is fome opinion or judgment implied in what they call
conception. A child conceives the moon to be flat, and a foot or

two

36o ESSAY IV.

CHAP. I. tvvo broad ; that is, this is his opinion : And when we fay it is a
falfe notion, or a falfe conception, we mean that it is a falfe opi-
nion. He conceives the city of London to be like his country
village ; that is, he believes it to be fo, till he is better inflruded.
He conceives a lion to have horns ; that is, he believes that the ani-
mal which men call a lion, has horns. Such opinions language
authorifes us to call conceptions ; and they may be true or falfe.
But bare conception, or what the Logicians call fimple apprehen-
fion, implies no opinion, however flight, and therefore can nei-
ther be true nor falfe.

What Mr Locke fays of ideas (by which word he very often
means nothing but conceptions) is very juft, when the word idea
is fo underftood, book 2. chap; 32. § i. " Though truth and falfe-
" hood belong in propriety of fpeech only to propofitions, yet ideas
" are often termed true or falfe (as what words are there that are
" not ufed with great latitude, and with fome deviation from their
" ftridl and proper fignlfication) ; though I think, that when ideas
*' themfelves are termed true or falfe, there is ftill fome fecret or
" tacit propofition, which is the foundation of that denomination ;
*' as we fliall fee, if we examine the particular occafions wherein
" they come to be called true or falfe ; in all which we fhall find
*' fome kind of affirmation or negation, which is the reafon of
" that denomination : For our ideas being nothing but bare ap-
" pearances, or perceptions in our minds, cannot properly and
" fimply in themfelves be faid to be true or falfe, no more than a
*' fimple name of any thing can be faid to be true or falfe."
«

It may be here obferved by the way, that in this paflTage, as in
many others, Mr Locke ufes the word perception^ as well as the
word idea^ to fignify what I call conception;^ or fimple apprehen-
fion. And in his chapter upon perception, book 2. chap. 9. he
ufes it in the fame fenfe. Perception, he fays, " as it is the firft
" faculty of the mind, exercifed about our ideas ; fo it is the firft

and fimpleft idea we have from reflection, and is by fome called

thinking

4(

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 361

" thinking in general. It feems to be that which puts the diftinc- CHAP. i.
*' tion betwixt the animal kingdom and the inferior parts of na-
" ture. It is the firft operation of all our faculties, and the inlet
** of all knowledge into our minds."

Mr Locke has followed the example given by Des Cartes,
Gassendi, and other Cartefians, in giving the name oi perception
to the bare conception of things : And he has been followed in this
hy Bifliop Berkeley, Mr Hume, and many late Philofophers,
iwhen they treat of ideas. They have probably been led into this
impropriety, t>y the common dodlrine concerning ideas, which
teaches us, that conception, perception by the fenfes, and memory,
are only different ways of perceiving ideas in our own minds. If
that theory be well founded, it will indeed be very difficult to find
any fpecific diflin<5lion between conception and perception. But
there is reafon to diflrufl any philofophical theory, when it leads
men to corrupt language, and to confound, under one name, ope-
rations of the mind, which common fenfe and common language
teach them to diliinguifh.

I grant that there are fome flates of the mind, wherein a man
may confound his conceptions with what he perceives or remem-
bers, and miflake the one for the other ; as, in the delirium of a fe-
ver, in fome cafes of lunacy and of madnefs, in dreaming, and
perhaps in fome momentary tranfports of devotion, or of other
flrong emotions, which cloud his intelleclual faculties, and for a
time carry a man out of himfelf, as we ufually exprefe it.

Even in a fober and found flate of mind, the memory of a
thing may be fo very weak, that we may be in doubt whether we
only dreamed or imagined it.

It may be doubted, whether children, when their imagination firfl
begins to work,can diftinguilli what they barely conceive from what
they remember. I have been told by a man of knowledge and ob-

Z z fervation,

362 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. I. fervation, that one of his fons, when h^ began to fpeak, very often
told lies with great afluraiice, without any intention, as far as ap-
peared, or any confcioufnefs of guilt. From which the father
concluded, that it is natural to fome. children to lie. I am rather
inclined to think, that the child had no intention to deceive, but
miftook the rovings of his own fancy, for things which he remem-
bered. This, however, I take to be very uncommon, after chil-
dren can communicate their fentiments by language, though per-
haps not fo in a more early period.

Granting all this, if any man will aiErni, that they whofe in-
telledual faculties are found, and fober, and ripe, cannot with cer-
tainty diftinguifh what they perceive or remember, from what they
barely conceive, when thofe operations have any degree of flrength
and diftindlnefs, he may enjoy his opinion ; I know not how to
reafon with him. Why Ihould Philofophers confound thofe ope-
rations in treating of ideas, when they would be afhamed to do it
on other occafions ? To diftinguiih the various powers of our minds,
a certain degree of underflanding is neceffary : And if fome,
through a defedl of underflanding, natural or accidental, or from
unripenefs of underflanding, may be apt to confound diflferent
powers, will it follow that others cannot clearly diflinguifli them ?

To return from this digrefTion, into which the abufe of the word
perception, by Philofophers, has led me, it appears evident,' that
the bare conception of an objecfl, which includes no opinion or
judgment, can neither be true nor falfe. Thofe qualities, in their
proper fenfe,are|^altogether inapplicable to this operation of the mind.

3. Of all the analogies between the operations of body and thofe
of the mind, there is none fo flrong and fo obvious to all man-
kind as that which there is between painting, or other plafl-ic arts,
and the power of conceiving objeds in the mind. Hence in all
languages, the words, by which this power of the mind and its
various modifications are exprefTed, are analogical, and borrowed

from

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 2^;^

from thofe arts. We confider this power of the mind as a plaftic CHAP. i.
power, by which we form to ourfelves images of the objedls of
thought.

In vain Ihould we attempt to avoid this analogical lan-
guage, for we have no other language upon the fubje(5t ; yet it is
dangerous, and apt to miflead. All analogical and figurative words
have a double meaning ; and, if we are not very much upon our
guard, we Aide infenfibly from the borrowed and figurative mean-
ing into the primitive. We are prone to carry the parallel between
the things compared farther than it will hold, and thus very natu-
rally to fall into error.

To avoid this as far as pofTible in the prefent fubje<5l, it is pro-
per to attend to the diffimilitude between conceiving a thing in
the mind, and painting it to the eye, as well as to their fimilitude.
The fimilitude ftrikes and gives pleafure. The diffimilitude we
are lefs difpofed to obferve. But the Philofopher ought to attend
to it, and to carry it always in mind, in his reafonings on this fub-
je(5l, as a monitor, to warn him againft the errors into which the
analogical language is apt to draw him.

When a man paints, there is fome work done, which remains
when his hand is taken off, and continues to exift, though he
fhould think no more of it. Every ftroke of his pencil produces
an effedl, and this effedl is different from his adion in making it ;
for it remains and continues to exift when the adlion ceafes. The
adlion of painting is one thingi the pidure produced is another
thing. The firft is the caufe, the fecond is the effedl.

Let us next confider what is done when he only conceives this
pidure. He muft have conceived it before he painted it : For this
is a maxim univerfally admitted, that every work of art muft firft
be conceived in the mind of the operator. What is this concep-
tion? it is an a<5l of the mind, a kind of thought. This cannot

Z z 2 be

364 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. I. ^ be denied. But does it produce any effedl befides the adl itfelf ?'"
Surely common fenfe anfwers this queftion in the negative : For
every one know^s, that it is one thing to conceive, another thing to
bring forth into effedl. It is one thing to proje(5l, another to exe-
cute. A man may think for a long time what he is to dO) and af-
ter all do nothing. Conceiving as well as projeding or refolving,
are what the fchoolmen called immanent adls of the mind, which
produce nothing beyond themfelves. But painting is a tranfitive
adl, which produces an efFedt diftindl from the operation, and this
efFedl is the pidture. Let this therefore be always remembered,
that what is commonly called the image of a thing in the mind, is
no more than the a6l or operation of the mind iji conceiving it.

That this is the common fenfe of men who are untutored by
philofophy, appears from their language. If one ignorant of the
language ihould afk. What is meant by conceiving a thing ? we
Ihould very naturally anfwer, That it is having an image of it in
the mind ; and perhaps we could not explain the word better. This
fhows, that conception, and the image of a thing in the mind,
are fynonymous expreflions. The image in the'mind, therefore,
is not the objedl of conception, nor is it any e£fe<fl produced by
conception as a caufe. It is conception itfelf. That very mode of
thinking, which we call conception, is by another name called an
image in the mind.

Nothing more readily gives the conception of a thing than the
• feeing an image of it. Hence, by a figure common in language,
conception is called an image of the thing conceived. But to Ihow
that it is not a real but a metaphorical image^ it is called an image
in the mind. We know nothing that is properly in the mind but
thought ; and when any thing elfe is faid to be in the mind, the
expreffion muft be figurative, and fignify forae kind of thought.

I know that Philofophers very unanimoufly maintain, that in
conception there is a real image in the mind, which is the imme-
diate

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 26s

diate objed of conception, and diftincl from the adl of conceiving P^^^- ^\
it. I beg the reader's indulgence to defer what may be faid for or
againft this philofophical opinion to the next chapter ; intending
in this only to explain what appears to me to belong to this ope-
ration of mind, without coniideriiig the theories about it. 1 think
it appears from what has been faid, that the common language of
thofe who have not imbibed any philofophical opinion upon this
fubjedl, authorifes us to underftand the conception of. a things and an
image of it in the mind., not as two different things, but as two dif-
ferent expreflions, to fignify one and the fame thing ; and I wiCh
to ufe common words in their common acceptation.

4. Taking along with us what is faid in the lafl; article, to guard
us againft the fedudlion of the analogical language ufed on this
fubjedl, we may obferve a very ftrong analogy, not only between
conceiving and painting in general, but between the different kinds
of our conceptions, and the different works of the painter. He
either makes fancy pidures, or he copies from the painting of
others, or he paints from the life ; that is, from real objeds of art
or nature which he has feen. I think our conceptions admit of a
divifion very fimilar..

Firfl., There are conceptions which may be called fancy pidlures-
They are commonly called creatures of fancy, or of imagination.
They are not the copies of any original that exifts, but are originals
themfclves. Such was the conception which Swift formed of
the ifland of Laputa and of the country of the Lilliputians ; Cer-
vantes of Don Quixote and his Squire; Harrington of the
government of Oceana ; and Sir Thomas More of that of Uto-
pia. We can give names to fuch creatures of imagination, con-
ceive them diftindly, and reafon confequentially concerning them,
though they never had an exlrtence. They were conceived by
their creators, and may be conceived by others, but they never
exifted. We do not afcribe the qualities of true or falfe to them,

becaufe

J

66 ESSAY IV.

CHA?. i.^ becaufe they are not accompanied with any belief, nor do they
imply any affirmation or negation.

Setting afide thofe creatures of imagination, there are other
conceptions, which may be called copies, becaufe they have an
original or archetype to which they refer, and with which they
are believed to agree ; and we call them true or falfe conceptions,
according as they agree or difagree with the ftandard to which
they are referred. Thefe are of two kinds, which have different
ftandards or originals.

The firjl kind is analogous to pidures taken from the life. We
have conceptions of individual things that really exift, fuch as
the city of London, or the government of Venice. Here the
things conceived are the originals ; and our conceptions are called
true when they agree with the thing conceived. Thus, ray con-
ception of the city of London is true when I conceive it to be
what it really is.

Individual things which really exift, being the creatures of God,
• (though fome of them may receive their outward form from man),
he only who made them knows their whole nature ; we know
them but in part, and therefore our conceptions of them muft in
all cafes be imperfedl and inadequate ; yet they may be true and
juft, as far as they reach.

The fecond kind is analogous to the copies which the painter
makes from pictures done before. Such I think are the concep-
tions we have of what the ancients called univerfals ; that is, of
things which belong or may belong to many individuals. Thefe
are kinds and fpecies of things ; fuch as, man or elephant, which
are fpecies of fubftances ; wifdom or courage, which are fpecies
of qualities ; equality or fimilitude, which are fpecies of relations.
It may be afked, From what original are thefe conceptions formed ?
And when are they faid to be true or falfe ?

It

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. ^6j

Ic appears to rae, that the original from which they are copied, CHAP. I.
that is, the thing conceived, is the conception or meaning which
other men who underftand the language affix to the fame words.

Things are parcelled into kinds and forts, not by Nature, but
by men. The individual things we are conne<5led with, are fo
many, that to give a proper name to every individual would be
impoffible. We could never attain the knowledge of them that is
neceflary, nor converfe and reafon about them, without forting.
them according to their. difFerept attributes. Thofe that agree in
certain attributes are thrown into one parcel, and have a general
name given them, which belongs equally to every individual in
that parcel. This common name muft therefore fignify thofe at-
tributes which have been obferved to be common to every indi-
vidual in that parcel, and nothing dfe.

That fuch general words may anfwer their intention, all that
is neceflary is, that thofe who ufe them Ihould affix the fame
meaning or notion, that is, the fame conception to them. The
common meaning is the ftandard by which fuch conceptions are
formed, and they are faid to be true or falfe, according as they
agree or difagree with it. Thus, my conception of felony is true
and jufl, when it agrees with the meaning of that word in the
laws relating to it, and in authors who underftand the law. The
meaning of the word is the thing conceived ; and that meaning is
the conception affixed to it by thofe who beft underftand the
language.

An individual is expreffed in language either by a proper name,
or by a general word joined to fuch. circumftances as diftinguifh
that individual from all others; if it is unknown, it may, when
an objed of fenfe and within reach,, be pointed out to the fenfes j
when beyond the reach of the fenfes, it may be afcertained by a
defcription, which, though very imperfed, may be true and fuf-
ficient to diftinguifh it from every other individual. Hence it is,

that,.

368 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP, i.^ tJiat, in fpeaking of individuals, we are very little in danger of
miilaking the objed:, or taking one individual for another.

Yet, as was before obferved, our conception of them is always
inadequate and lame. They are the creatures of God, and there
are many things belonging to them which we know not, and which
cannot be deduced by reafoning from what we know : They have
a real eiTence, or conflitution of nature, from which all their qua-
lities flow ; but this eflence our faculties do not comprehend : They
are therefore incapable of definitioa ; for a definition ought to com-
prehend the whole n9.ture or eflence of the thing defined.

Thus, Weftminfter bridge is an individual objedt ; though I had
never feen or heard of it before, if I am only made to conceive that
it is a bridge from Wefl:minfter over the Thames, this conception,
Jiowever imperfedl, is true, and is fufficient to make me diftinguifli
it, when it is mentioned, from every other objedl that exifl:s.
The architedl may have an adequate conception of its ft;ru(5ture,
■ which is the work of man ; but of the materials which are the
work of God, no man has an adequate conception ; and there-
fore, thojigh the objedl may bedefcribed, it cannot be defined.

Univerfals are always exprefled by general words ; and all the
words of language, excepting proper names, are general words ;
they are the figns of general conceptions, or of fome circumft:ance
relating to them. Thefe general conceptions are formed for the
purpofe of language and reafoning ; and the objedl from which
they are taken, and to which they are intended to agree, is the
conception which other men join to the fame words ; they may
therefore be adequate, and perfedlly agree with the thing conceived.
This implies no more than that men who fpeak the fame language
,may perfedly agree in the meaning of many general words.

Thus Mathematicians have conceived what they call a plane
triangle : They have defined it accurately ; and when I conceive it

to

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 369

"V-

to be a plane furface, bounded by three right lines, I have both a CHAP. L
true and an adequate conception of it. There is nothing belong-
ing to a plane triangle which is not comprehended in this concep-
tion of it, or deducible from it by juft reafoning. This definition
exprefles the whole effence of the thing defined, as every juft defi-
nition ought to do; but this effence is only what Mr Locke very
properly calls a nominal effence ; it is a general conception formed
by the mind, and joined to a general word as its fign.

If all the general words of a language had a precife meaning,
and were perfedlly underftood, as mathematical terms are, all ver-
bal difputes would be at an end, and men would never feem to
differ in opinion, but when they differ in reality ; but this is far
from being the cafe. The meaning of moft general words is not
learned like that of mathematical terms, by an accurate definition,
but by the experience we happen to have, by hearing them ufed in
converfation. From fuch experience we colledl their meaning by
a kind of indu(5lion ; and as this indudlion is for the moft part
lame and imperfedl, it happens that different perfons join different -
conceptions to the fame general word ; and though we intend to
give them the meaning which ufe, the arbiter of language, has put
upon them, this is difficult to find, and apt to be miftaken, even
by the candid and attentive. Hence, in innumerable difputes, men
do not really differ in their judgments, but in the way of expreffing
them.

Our conceptions, therefore, appear to be of three kinds : They are
either the conceptions of individual things, the creatures of God ;
or they are conceptions of the meaning of general words ; or they
are the creatures of our own imagination; and thefe different kinds
have different properties which we have endeavoured to defcribe.

5. Our cqnception of things may be ftrong and lively, or it
may be faint and languid in all degrees. Thefe are qualities which
properly belong to our conceptions, though we have no names for

A a a them

37°

ESSAY IV.

CHAP. I.^ them but fuch as are analogical. Every man is confcious of fuch
a difference in his conceptions, and finds his lively conceptions moft
agreeable, when the objedl is not of fuch a nature as to give pain.

Thofe who have lively conceptions, commonly exprefs them in a
lively manner, that is, in fuch a manner as to raife lively conceptions
and emotions in others. Such perfons are the moft agreeable com-
panions in converfation, and the moft acceptable in their writings.

The livelinefs of our conceptions proceeds from different caufes.
Some objefls from their own nature, or from accidental afTociations,
are apt to raife ftrong emotions in the mind. Joy and hope, am-
bition, zeal, and refentment, tend to enliven our conceptions : Dif^
appointment, difgrace, grief, and envy, tend rather to flatten them.
Men of keen pafHons are commonly lively and agreeable in conver-
fation ; and difpafhonate men often make dull companions : There
is in fome men a natural ftrength and vigour of mind, which gives
rtrength to their conceptions on all fubjedts, and in all the occa-
fional variations of temper.

It feems eafier to form a lively conception of objedls that are fa-
miliar, than of thofe that are not; our conceptions of viiible objedls
are commonly the moft lively, when other circumltances are equal :
Hence Poets not only delight in the defcription of vifible obje(fls,
but find means by metaphor, analogy, and allufion, to clothe every
objeAv they defcribe with vifible qualities: The lively conception
of thefe makes the obje<5t appear, as it were, before our eyes. Lord
Kames, in his Elements of Critic ifm, has fhewn of what import-
ance it is in works of tafte, to give to objects defcribed, what he
calls ideal prefence. To produce this in the mind, is indeed the
capital aim of poetical and rhetorical defcription. It carries the
man, as it were, out of himfelf, and makes him a fpedtator of the
fcene defcribed. This ideal prefence feems to me to be nothing
elfe but a lively conception of the appearance which the obje<5t
would make if really prefent to the eye.

Abftraa

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 371

Abftra<El and general conceptions are never lively, though they CHAP. I.^ »
may be diftindl ; and therefore, however neceflary in philofophy,
feldom enter into poetical defcription, without being particularifed
or clothed in forae vifible drefs.

It may be obferved, however, that our conceptions of vifible ob^
je(5ls become more lively by giving them motion, and more ftill by
giving them life, and intelletflual qualities. Hence in poetry, the
whole creation is animated, and endowed with fenfe and reflc(5lion.

Imagination, when it is diftinguifhed from conception, feems to
me to fignify one fpecies of conception ; to wit, the conception of
vifible objects. Thus, in a mathematical propofition, I imagine
the figure, and I conceive the demonflration ; it would not I think
be improper to fay, I conceive both ; but it would not be fo proper
to fay, I imagine the demonftration.

6. Our conceptions of things may be clear, diftindV, and fteady ;
or they may be obfcure, indiftindl, and wavering. The livelinefs
of our conceptions gives pleafure, but it is their dillindnefs and
fleadinefs that enables us to judge right, and to exprefs our fenti-
ments with perfpicuity.

If we enquire into the caufe, why among perfons fpeaking or
writing on the fame fubjedl, we find in one fo much darknefs, in
another fo much perfpicuity ; I believe the chief caufe will be found
to be, that one had a diftindl and fteady conception of what he
faid or wrote, and the other had not : Men generally find means
to exprefs diftindlly what they have conceived diftindlly. Horace
obferves, that proper words fpontaneoufly follow diftindl concep-
tions. " Verbaque provifam rem non invita fcquuntuu^ But it is im-
poflible that a man lliould diftindly exprefs what he has not di-
(lin611y conceived.

We are commonly taught that perfpicuity depends upon a pro-

A a a 2 per

372 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. r. per choice of words, a proper flrudlure of fentences, and a proper
order in the whole compofition. All this is very true, but it fup-
pofes di{lin(5lnefs in our conceptions, without which there can be
neither propriety in our words, nor in the ftrudure of our fen-
tences, nor in our method.

Nay, I apprehend, that indiftindl conceptions of things are, for
the moft part, the caufe not only of obfcurity in writing and
ipeaking, but of error in judging.

Muft not they who conceive things in the fame manner form'
the fame judgment of their agreements and difagreements ? Is it
pofTible for two perfons to differ with regard to the conclufion of
a fyUogifm who have the fame conception of the premifes ?

Some perfons find it difficult to enter into a mathematical de-
monftration. I believe we fhall always find the reafon to be, that
they do not diftin<5lly apprehend it. A man cannot be convinced
by what he does not under (land. On the other hand, I think a
man cannot underftand a demonftration without feeing the force
of it. I fpeak of fuch demon flratipns as thofe of Euclid, where
every (lep is fet down, and nothing left to be fupplied by the
reader*

Sometimes one who has got through the firft four books of
Euclid's Elements, and fees the force of the demonftrations, finds
difficulty in the fifth. What is the reafon of this ? You may
find, by a little converfation with him, that he has not a clear
and fteady conception of ratios and of the terms relating to them.
When the terms ufed in the fifth book have become familiar, and
readily excite in his mind a clear and fteady conception of their
meaning, you may venture to affirm that he will be able to un-
derftand the demonftrations of that book, and to fee the force of

them>

If

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 373

If this be really the cafe, as it feems to be, it leads us to think CHAP^
that men are very much upon a level with regard to mere judg-
ment, when we take that faculty apart from the apprehenfion or
conception of the things about which we judge ; fo that a found
judgment feems to be the infeparable companion of a clear and
fteady apprehenfion : And we ought not to confider thefe two as
talents, of which the one may fall to the lot of one man, and the
other to the lot of another, but as talents which always go together.

It may, however, be obferved, that fome of our conceptions
may be more fubfervient to reafoning than others which are
equally clear and diftin<5l. It was before obferved, that fome of
our conceptions are of individual things, others of things gene-
ral and abflra(5l. It may happen, that a man who has very clear
conceptions of things individual, is not fo happy in thofe of things
general and abftrac^. And this I take to be the reafon why we
find men who have good judgment in matters of common life, •
and perhaps good talents for poetical or rhetorical compofition,.
who find it very difficult to enter into abilrad reafoning,

That I may not appear fingular in putting men fo much upor»
a level in point of mere judgment, I beg leave to fupport this
opinion by the authority of two very thinking men, Des Cartes
and Cicero. The former, in his diflfertation on method, ex-
prefTes himfelf to this purpofe : " Nothing is fo equally diftributed
among men as judgment. Wherefore it feems reafonable to be-
lieve, that the power of diftinguifliing what is true from what is
falfe, (which we properly call judgment or right reafon), is by nar
ture equal in all men ; and therefore that the diverfity of our opi-
nions does not arife from one perfon being endowed with a greater
power of reafon than another, but only from this, that we do not
lead our thoughts in the fame track, nor attend to the fame things."

Cicero, in his third book De Oratore, makes this obfervationj
** It is wonderful, when the learned and unlearned differ fo much

ixii

374 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. L in jjj.f^ i^o^ }ji-tle tiiey differ in judgment. For art being derived
from Nature, is good for nothing, unlefs it move and delight
Nature."

From what has been faid in this article, it follows, that it is fo
far in our power to write and fpeak perfpicuoufly, and to reafon
juftly, as it is in our power to form clear and diftindl conceptions
of the fubjecl on which we fpeak or reafon. And though Nature
hath put a wide difference between one man and another in this
refpedl, yet that it is in a very confiderable degree in our power to
have clear and diftindl apprehenfions of things about which we
think and reafon, cannot be doubted.

7. It has been obferved by many authors, that, when we barely
conceive any objedl, the ingredients of that conception muft either
be things with which we were before acquainted by fome other
original power of the mind, or they muft be parts or attributes of
fuch things. Thus a man cannot conceive colours, if he never
faw, nor founds, if he never heard. If man had not a confcience,
he could not conceive what is meant by moral obligation, or by
right and wrong in condud.

Fancy may combine things that never were combined in reality.
It may enlarge or dlminilh, multiply or divide, compound and fa-
fliion the objedls which Nature prefents ; but it cannot, by the
utmoft effort of that creative Power which we afcribe to it, bring
any one fimple ingredient into its produdions, which Nature has
not framed, and brought to our knowledge by fome other faculty.

This Mr Locke has expreffed as beautifully as juftly. The do-
minion of man, in this little world of his own underftanding, is
-much the fame as in the great world of vifible things ; wherein
his power, however managed by art and Ikill, reaches no farther
than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his
Ixand, but can do nothing towards making the leaft particle of mat-
ter

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 375

ter, or deftroying one atom that is already in being. The fame CHARL
inabiUty will every one find in himfelf, to fafliion in his under-
(landing any fimple idea not received by the powers which God
has given him.

I think all Philofophers agree in this fentiment. Mr Hume, in-
deed, after acknowledging the truth of the principle in general,
mentions what he thinks a fingle exception to it. That a man,
who had feen all the fhades of a particular colour except one, might
frame in his mind a conception of that £hade which he never faw.
I think this is not an exception ; becaufe a particular fhade of a co-
lour differs not fpecifically, but only in degree, from other Ihades
of the fame colour.

It is proper to obferve, that our moll fimple conceptions are not
thofe which Nature immediately prefents to us. When we come
to years of underftanding, we have the power of analyfing the ob-
jedls of Nature, of diftinguifhing their feveral attributes and rela-
tions, of conceiving them one by one, and of giving a name to
each, whofe meaning extends only to that fingle attribute or rela-
tion : And thus our moft fimple conceptions are not thofe of any
objed\ in nature, but of fome fingle attribute or relation of fuch.
objeds.

Thus Nature prefents to our fenfes, bodies that are extended in.
three dimenfions, and folid. By analyfing the notion we have of
body from our fenfes, we form to ourfelves the conceptions of ex-
tenfion, folidity, fpace, a point, a line, a furface ; all which are
more fimple conceptions than that of a body. But they are the
elements, as it were, of which our conception of a body is made
up, and into which it may be analyfed. This pov/er of analyfing
objedls we propofe to confider particularly in another place. It is
only mentioned here, that what is faid in this article may not be
underftood, fo as to be inconfillent with it.

8. Though

376 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. I.^ g^ Though our conceptions muft be confined to the ingredients
mentioned in the laft article, we are unconfined with regard to the
arrangement of thofe ingredients. Here we may pick and chufe,
and form an endlefs variety of combinations and compofitlons,
which we call creatures of the imagination. Thefe may be clear-
ly conceived, though they never exifted : And indeed every thing
that is made, muft have been conceived before it was made. Every
work of human art, and every plan of condudt, whether in public
or in private life, muft have been conceived before it is brought to
execution. And we cannot avoid thinking, that the Almighty,
before he created the univerfe by his power, had a diftindl con-
ception of the whole and of every part, and faw it to be good,
and agreeable to his intention.

* It is the bufinefs of man, as a rational creature, to employ this

unlimited power of conception, for planning his condudl and en-
larging his knowledge. It feems to be peculiar to beings endow-
ed with reafon to a6l by a preconceived plan. Brute animals feem
either to want this power, or to have it in a very low degree.
They are moved by inftindi, habit, appetite, or natural affedlion,
according as thefe principles are ftirred by the prefent occafion.
But I fee no reafon to think that they can propofe to themfelves a
connedled plan of life, or form general rules of condudl. Indeed,
we fee that many of the human fpecies, to whom God has given
this power, make little ufe of it. They adl without a plan, as the
paffion or appetite which is ftrongeft at the time leads them.

9. The laft property I Ihali mention of this faculty, is that
which effentially diftinguiflies it from every other power of the
mind ; and it is, that it is not employed folely about things which
have exiftence. I can conceive a winged horfe or a centaur, as eafily
and as diftin(5lly as I can conceive a man whom I have feen. Nor
.does this diftindl conception incline my judgment in the leaft to the
belief, that a winged horfe or a centaur ever exifted.

It

OF SIMPLE APPREHENSION IN GENERAL. 377

It is not fo with the other operations of our minds. They are chap. l.

^ \l I III ^y 111 11^

employed about real exiftences, and carry with them the belief of
their objecfls. When I feel pain, I am compelled to believe that
the pain that I feel has a real exiftence. When I perceive any ex-
ternal objecSt, my belief of the real exiftence of the objedl is irre-
fiftible. When I diftinclly remember any event, though that event
may not now exift, I can have no doubt but it did exifl. That
confcioufnefs which we have of the operations of our own minds
implies a belief of the real exiftence of thofe operations.

Thus we fee, that the powers of fenfation, of perception,' of
memory, and of confcioufnefs, are all employed folely about ob-
jedls that do exilj, or have exifted. But conception is often em-
ployed about objedls that neither do, nor did, nor will exift. This
is the very nature of this faculty, that its objedl, though diftindly
conceived, may have no exiftence. Such an objedl we call a crea-
ture of imagination j but this creature never was created.

. That we may not impofe upon ourfelves in this matter, we muft
diftinguifti between that adl or operation of the mind, which we
call conceiving an objedl, and the objedt which we conceive.
When we conceive any thing, there is a real adl or operation of
the mind ; of this we are confcious, and can have no doubt of its
exiftence : But every fuch adt muft have an obje(5l ; for he that
conceives, muft conceive fomething. Suppofe he conceives a cen-
taur, he may have a diftindl conception of this objed, though no
centaur ever exifted.

I am afraid, that, to thofe who are unacquainted with the dodlrine
of Philofophers upon this fubjedl, I fliall appear in a very ridicu-
lous light, for infifting upon a point fo very evident, as that men
may barely conceive things that never exifted. They will hardly
believe, that any man in his wits ever doubted of it. Indeed, I
know no truth more evident to the common fenfe and to the expe-
rience of mankind. , But if the authority of philofophy, ancient

B b b and

378 ESSAY IV,

CHAP. II. and modern, oppofes it, as I think it does, I wifh not to treat that
authority fo faftidioufly, as not to attend patiently to what may be
faid in fupport of it.

CHAP. II.

Theories concerning Conception.

TH E theory of ideas has been applied to the conception of
objecfls as well as to perception and memory. Perhaps it will
be irkfome to the reader, as it is to the writer, to return to that
fubje<5l, after fo much has been faid upon it ; but its application to
the conception of objedls, which could not properly have been in-
troduced before, gives a more coraprehenfive view of it, and of
the prejudices which have led Philofophers fo unanlmoufly into it.

There are two prejudices which feem to me to have given rife to
the theory of ideas in all the various forms in which it has ap-
peared in the courfe of above two thoufand years ; and though
they have no fupport from the natural dictates of our faculties, or
from attentive refle(5lion upon their operations, they are prejudices
which thofe who fpeculate upon this fubjedl, are very apt to be led
into by analogy.

Thtjirjl is, That in all the operations of the underflanding there
mufi: be fome immediate intercourfe between the mind and its ob-
jedl, fo that the one may adl upon the other. Thtfecond^ That in all
the operations of underflanding there mufl be an objed: of thought,
which really exifls while we think of it; or, as fome Philofophers
have exprefled it, that which is not, cannot be intelligible.

Had Philofophers perceived, that thefe are prejudices grounded
only upon analogical reafoning, we had never heard of ideas in the
philofophical fenfe of that word.

The

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 379

The firfl of thefe principles has led Philofophers to think, that CHAP. IL
as the external objeds of fenfe are too remote to adl upon the mind
immediately, there mufl: be fome image or fliadow of them that is
prefent to the mind, and is the immediate objedl of perception.
That there is fuch an immediate objedt of perception, diftin<5t from
the external objed:, has been very unanimoufly held by Philofo-
phers, though they have differed much about the name,' the na-
ture, and the origin of thofe immediate objefls.

We have confidered what has been faid in the fupport of this
principle, Eflay II. chap. 14. to which the reader is referred, to
prevent repetition.

I fhall only add to what is there faid. That there appears no Iha-
dow of reafon why the mind muft have an objedl immediately pre-
fent to it in its intelle(5lual operations, any more than in its afFedions
and paffions. Philofophers have not faid, that ideas are the imme-
diate obje(51:s of love or refentment, of efleem or difapprobation.
It is, I think, acknowledged, that perfons and not ideas are the
immediate objedls of thofe affedlions ; perfons, who are as far from
being immediately prefent to the mind as other external objedls,
and fometimes perfons who have now no exiftence in this world at
leaft, and who can neither adl upon the mind, nor be aded upon
by it.

The fecond principle, which I conceive to be likewife a prejudice
of Philofophers grounded upon analogy, is now to be confidered.

It contradids diredlly what was laid down in the lafl: article of
the preceding chapter, to wit, that we may have a diftind concep-
tion of things which never exifted. This is undoubtedly the com-
mon belief of thofe who have not been inftruded in philofophy ;
and they will think it as ridiculous to defend it by reafoning, as to
oppofe it.

B b b 2 The

38o E S S A Y IV.

^HAP. 11.^ The Phllofopher fays, Though there may be a remote objecfl
which does not exlft, there mud be an immediate objedl which
really exifls ; for that which is not, cannot be an object of thought.
The idea muft be perceived by the mind, and if it does not exifl
there, there can be no perception of it, no operation of the mind
about it.

This principle deferves the more to be examined, becaufe the
other before mentioned depends upon it ; for although the laft may
be true, even if the firft was falfe, yet if the laft be not true, nei-
ther can the firft : If we can conceive objedls which have no exift-
ence, it follows, that there may be objeds of thought which nei-
ther adl upon the mind, nor are adled upon by it ; becaufe that
which has no exiftence can neither a6t nor be adled upon.

It is by thefe principles that Philofophers have been led to think,
that in every adl of memory and of conception, as well as of per-
ception, there are two objedts. The one, the immediate objecl, the
idea, the fpecies, the form : The other, the mediate or external
objedl. The vulgar know only of one objedl, which in perception
is fomething external that exifts ; in memory, fomething that did
exift ; and in conception, may be fomething that never exifted :
But the immediate objedl of the Philofophers, the idea, is faid to
exift, and to be perceived in all thefe operations.

Thefe principles have not only led Philofophers to fplit objedls
into two, where others can find but one, but likewife have led
them to reduce the three operations now mentioned to one, making
memory and conception, as well as perception, to be the perception
of ideas. But nothing appears more evident to the vulgar, than
that, what is only remembered, or only conceived, is not perceived j
and to fpeak of the perceptions of memory, appears to them as ab-
furd, as to fpeak of the hearing of fight.

In a word, thefe two principles carry us into the whole philefo-

phical

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 381

phical theory of ideas, and furnifli every argument that ever was CHAP. IL
ufed for their exiftence. If they are true, that fyflem muft be ad-
mitted with all its confequences : If they are only prejudices,
grounded upon analogical reafoning, the whole fyftem muft fall to
the ground with them.

It is, therefore, of importance to trace thofe principles, as far
as we are able, to their origin, and to fee, if poffible, whether
they have any juft foundation in reafon, or whether they are rafii
conclufions, drawn from a fuppofed analogy between matter and
mind.

The unlearned, who are guided by the didlates of Nature, and
exprefs what they are confcious of concerning the operations of
their own mind, believe, that the object which they diftindlly per-
ceive certainly exifts ; that the objedl which they diftindlly remem-
ber certainly did exift, but now may not ; but as to things that
are barely conceived, they know that they can conceive a thou-
fand things that never exifted, and that the bare conception of a
thing does not fo much as afford a prefumption of its exiftence.
They give themfelves no trouble to know how thefe operations are
performed, or to account for them from general principles.

But Philofophers, who wifh to difcover the caufes of things,
and to account for thefe operations of mind, obferving, that in
other operations there muft be not only an agent, but fomething
to aft upon, have been led by analogy to conclude that it muft be
fo in the operations of the mind.

The relation between the mind and its conceptions bears a very
ftrong and obvious analogy to the relation between a man and
his work. Every fcheme he forms, every difcovery he makes by
his reafoning powers, is very properly called the work of his
mind. Thefe works of the mind are fometimes great and im-
portant works, and draw the attention and adiniration of men.

It

382 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. ir. It is the province of the Philofopher to conficler how fuch works
of the mind arc produced, and of what materials they are com-
pofed. He calls the materials ideas. There muft therefore be
ideas, which the mind can arrange and form into a regular ftruc-
ture. Every thing that is produced, muft be produced of fome-
thing ; and from nothing, nothing can be produced.

Some fuch reafoning as this feems to me to have given the firft
rife to the philofophical notions of ideas. Thofe notions were
formed into a fyftem by the Pythagoreans two thoufand years
ago; and this fyftem was adopted by Plato, and embelliftied
with all the powers of a fine and lofty imagination. I fhall, in
compliance with cuftom, call it the Platonic fyftem of ideas,
though in reality it was the invention of the Pythagorean fchool.

The moft arduous queftion which employed the wits of men in
the infancy of the Grecian philofophy was, What was the origin
of the world ? From what principles and caufes did it proceed ?
To this queftion very different anfwers were ^iven in the different
fchools. Moft of them appear to us very ridiculous. The Py-
thagoreans, however, judged very rationally, from the order and
beauty of the univerfe, that it muft be the workmanftiip of an
eternal, intelligent and good Being : And therefore they concluded
the Deity to be one firft principle or caufe of the univerfe.

But they conceived there muft be more. The univerfe muft
be made of fomething. Every workman muft have materials to
work upon. That the world fliould be made out of nothing feem-
ed to them abfurd, becaufe every thing that is made muft be made
of fomething.

Nullum rem e nib'tlo gignt dlv'initus iinquam. LucR.
De nihilo nihil y in nihilum tiil pojfe reverti. Pers.

This maxim never was brought into doubt; Even in Cicero's

time

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 383

time it continued to be held by all Philofophers. What natural CHAP. II.
Philofopher (fays that author in his fecond book of Divination)
ever afTerted that any thing could take its rife from nothing, or
be reduced to nothing ? Becaufe men mufl: have materials to work
upon, they concluded it muft be fo with the Deity. This was
reafoning from analogy.

From this it followed, that an eternal uncreated matter was
another firft principle of the vmiverfe. But this matter they be-
lieved had no form nor quality. It was the fame with the materia
prima^ or firft matter of Aristotle, who borrowed this part of
his philofophy from his predecefTors.

To us it feems more rational to think that the Deity created
matter with its qualities, than that the matter of the univerfe
fhould be eternal and felf-exiftent. But fo ftrong was the preju-
dice of the ancient Philofophers againft what we call creation, that
they rather chofe to have recourfe to this eternal and unintelligible
matter, that the Deity might have materials to work upon.

The fame analogy which led them to think that there muft be
an eternal matter of which the world was made, led them alfo to
conclude that there muft be an eternal pattern or model accordhig
to which it was, made. Works of defign and art muft be di-
ftindlly conceived before they are made. The Deity, as an intelli-
gent Being, about to execute a work of perfect beauty and regu-
larity, muft have had a diftindl conception of his work before it
was made. This appears very rational.

But this conception, being the work of the Divine intelledl,
fomething muft have exifted as its obje<5l. This could only be
ideas, which are the proper and immediate objedl of intellect.

From this inveftlgation of the principles or caufes of the uni-
verfe, thofe Philofophers concluded them to be three in number,

to

384 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. 11.^ (Q yf\i^ an eternal matter as the material caufe, eternal ideas as the
model or exemplary caufe, and an eternal intelligent mind as the
efficient caufe.

As to the nature of thofe eternal ideas, the Philofophers of that
fe6l afcribed to them the mofl magnificent attributes. They were
immutable and uncreated ; the objecl of the Divine intellecft be-
fore the world was made; and the only objedl of intelledl and
of fcience to all intelligent beings. As far as inteliedl is fuperior
to fenfe, fo far are ideas fuperior to all the objedls of fenfe. The
objedls of fenfe being in a conftant flux, cannot properly be
faid to exift. Ideas are the things which have a real and perma-
nent exiftence. They are as various as the fpecies of things, there
being one idea of every fpecies, but none of individuals. The
idea is the eflence of the fpecies, and exifbed before any of the
fpecies was made. It is entire in every individual of the fpecies,
without being either divided or multiplied.

In our prefent ftate, we have but an imperfedl conception of the
eternal ideas ; but it is the higheft felicity and perfedion of men
to be able to contemplate them. While we are in this prifon of
the body, fenfe, as a dead weight, bears us down from the con-
templation of the intelledlual objects ; and it is only by a due pu-
rification of the foul, and abftradlion from fenfe, that the intellec-
tual eye is opened, and that we are enabled to mount upon the
wings of intelledl to the celeftial world of ideas.

Such was the moll ancient fyftem concerning ideas, of which
we have any account. And however different from the modern,
it appears to be built upon the prejudices we have mentioned ; to
wit, that in every operation, there muft be fomething to work up-
on ; and that even in conception there mufl be an obje(fl which
really exifts.

For if thofe ancient Philofophers had thought it poffible that the

Deity

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 385

Deity could operate without materials in the formation of the ^CHAP. if.
world, and that he could conceive the plan of it without a model,
they could have feen no reafon to make matter and ideas eternal and
necefTarily exiftent principles, as well as the Deity himfelf.

Whether they believed that the ideas were not only eternal, but
eternally, and without a caufe, arranged in that beautiful and per-
fect order, which they afcribe to this intelligible world of ideas, I
cannot fay ; but this feems to be a neceflary confequencc of the
fyftem : For if the Deity could not conceive the plan of the world
which he made, without a model which really exifted, that model
could not be his work, nor contrived by his wifdom ; for if he
made it, he muft have conceived it before it was made ; it mufl
therefore have exifted in all its beauty and order independent of
the Deity ; and this I think they acknowledged, by making the
model, and the matter of this world, firft principles, no lefs than
the Deity.

If the Platonic fyftem be thus underftood, (and I do not fee how
it can hang together otherwife), it leads to two confequences that
are unfavourable to it.

Fir/fy Nothing is left to the Maker of this world but the Iklll to
work after a model. The model had all the perfedlion and beauty
that appears in the copy, and the Deity had only to copy after a
pattern that exifted independent of him. Indeed, the copy, if we
believe thofe Philofophers, falls very far fliort of the original ; but
this they feem to have afcribed to the refradiorinefs of matter, of
which it was made.

Secondly, If the world of ideas, without being the work of a
perfedlly wife and good intelligent Being, could have fo much
beavicy and perfe(5lion, how can we infer from the beauty and or-
der of this world, which is but an imperfed: copy of the other,
that it muft have been made by a perfedly wife and good Being ?

C c c The .

386 ESSAY IV.

CIIAF. 11.^ Yhe force of this reafoning, from the beauty and order of the uni-
verfe, to its being the work of a wife Being, which appears invin-
cible to every candid mind, and appeared fo to thofe ancient. Phi-
lofophers, is entirely deftroyed by the fuppofition of the exiflencc
of a world of ideas, of greater perfection and beauty, which ne-
ver was made. Or, if the reafoning be good, it will apply to the
world of ideas, which muft of confequence have been made by a
wife and good intelligent Being, and muft have been conceived be-
fore it was made.

It may farther be obferved, that all that is myfterious and unin-
telligible in the Platonic ideas, arifes from attributing exiftence to
them. Take away this one attribute, all the reft," however pom-
poufly expreffed, are eafily admitted and underftood.

What is a Platonic idea ? It is the elTence of a fpecies. It is the
exemplar, the model, according to which, all the individuals of
that fpecies are made. It is entire in every individual of the fpe-
cies, without being multiplied or divided. It was an obje(5l of
the Divine intelledl from eternity, and is an obje<5l of contemplation
and of fcience to every intelligent being. It is eternal, immutable,
and uncreated ; and, to crown all, it not only exifts, but has a more
feal and permanent exiftence than any thing that ever God made.

Take this defcription altogether, and it would require an Oedi-
pus to unriddle it. But take away the laft part of it, and no-
thing is more eafy. It is eafy to find five hundred things which
anfwer to every article in the defcription except the laft.

Take for an inftance the nature of a circle, as it is defined by
Euclid, an obje<fl which every intelligent being may conceive di-
ftindlly, though no circle had ever cxifted; it is the exemplar, the
model, according to which all the individual figures of that fpe-
cies that ever exifted were made; for they are all made according
to the nature of a circle. It is entire in every individual of the

fpecies,

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 387

fpecies, without being multiplied or divided : For every circle is CHAP. IL
an entire circle ; and all circles, in as far as they are circles, have
one and the fame nature. It was an objed: of the Divine intelledl
from all eternity, and may be an objedl of contemplation and of
fcience to every intelligent being. It is the efTence of a fpecies,
and, like all other eflences, it is eternal, immutable, and uncrea-
ted. This means no more, but that a circle always was a circle,
and can never be any thing but a circle. It is the neceility of the
thing, and not any ad of creating power, that makes a circle to
be a circle.

The nature of every fpecies, whether of fubftance, of quality,
or of relation, and in general every thing which the ancients called
an univerfal, anfwers to the defcription of a Platonic idea, if in
that defcription you leave out the attribute of exiftence.

If we believe that no fpecies of things could be conceived by
the Almighty without a model that really exifted, we muft go back
to the Platonic fyftem, however myfterious^ But if it be true,
that the Deicy could have a diftindl conception of things which did
not exift, and that other intelligent beings may conceive objedls
which do not exift, the fyftem has no better foundation than this
prejudice, that the operations of mind muft be like thofe of the body.

Aristotle rejedled the ideas of his mafter Plato as vifionary;
but he retained the prejudices that gave rife to them, and therefore
fubftituted fomething in their place, but under a different name,
and of a different origin.

He called the objeds of intelledl, intelligible fpecies ; thofe of the
memory and imagination, phantafms, and thofe of the fenfes, fen-
fible fpecies. This change of the name was indeed very fmall ; for
the Greek word of Aristotle, which we tranflate^^f/Vj orform^
is fo near to the Greek word idea, both in its found and fignifica-
tion, that, from their etymology, it would not be eafy to give

C c c 2 them

388 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. 11.^ them different meanings. Both are derived from the Greek word
which fignifies to fee., and both may fignify a vifion or appearance
to the eye. Cicero, who underftood Greek well, often tranflates
the Greek word idea by the Latin word vifio. But both words be-
ing ufed as terms of art, one in the Platonic fyflem, the other in
the Peripatetic, the Latin writers generally borrowed the Greek
word idea to exprefs the Platonic notion, and tranflated Ari-
stotle's word, by the -wordis /pecks ov forma ; and in this they
have been followed in the modern languages.

Thofe forms or fpecies were called intelligible, to diftinguifli
them from fenfible fpecies, which Aristotle held to be the im-
mediate objeds of fenfe.

He thought that the fenfible fpecies come from the external ob-
ject, and defined a feufe to be that which has the capacity to re-
ceive the form of fenfible things without the matter ; as wax re-
ceives the form of a feal without any of the matter of it. In like
manner, he thought that the intelledl receives the forms of things
intelligible, and he calls it the place of forms.

I take it to have been the opinion of Aristotle, that the intel-
ligible forms in the human intelle(5l are derived from the fenfible by
abftradlion, and other operations of the mind itfelf. As to the in-
telligible forms in the divine intelle(ft, they muft have had another
origin ; but I do not remember that he gives any opinion about
them. He certainly maintained, however, that there is no intel-
ledlion without intelligible fpecies ; no memory or imagination
without phantafms ; no perception without fenfible fpecies. Treat-
ing of memory he propofes a difficulty, and endeavours to refolve
it, how a phantafm, that is a prefent objecft in the mind, fhould
reprefent a thing that is paft.

Thus, I think, it appears, that the Peripatetic fyflem of fpecies
and phantafms, as well as the Platonic fyftem of ideas, is grounded

upon

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 389

upon this principle, that in every kind of thought there niuft be CHAP. IL
fome obje(5t that really exifts ; in every operation of the mind, fome-
thing to work upon. Whether this immediate objedl be called an
idea veith Plato, or a phantafm or fpecies with Aristotle ;
whether it be eternal and uncreated, or produced by the impref-
fions of external objedts^ is of no confequence in the prefent argu-
ment. In both fyflems it was thought impofllble, that the Deity
could make the world without matter to work upon. In both it
was thought impofllble, that an intelligent Being could conceive
any thing that did not exifh, but by means of a model that really
exifted.

The Philofophers of the Alexandrian fchool, commonly called
the latter Platonifls, conceived the eternal ideas of things to be in
the Divine intelle<5l, and thereby avoided the abfurdity of making
them a principle diftin(5l from and independent of the Deity; but
ftill they held them to exift really in the Divine mind as the objeds
of conception, and as the patterns and archetypes of things that are
made.

Modern Philofophers, ftill perfuaded that of every thought there
mufl be an immediate objedl that really exifts, have not thought
it necelTary to diftinguifti by different names the immediate objects
of intelled, of imagination, and of the fenfes, but have given the
common name oi idea to them all.

Whether thefe ideas be in the fenforium, or in the mind, or
partly in the one, and partly in the other ; whether they exift when
they are not perceived, or only when they are perceived; whether
they are the workmanfliip of the Deity or of the mind itfelf, or of
external natural caufes ; with regard to thefe points, different au-
thors feem to have different opinions, and the fame author fo'me-
times to waver or be diffident ; but as to their exiftence, there feems
to be great unanimity.

So

390 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. II.

So much is this opinion fixed in the minds of Philo(bphers, that
I doubt not but it will appear to mod a very ftrange paradox, or
rather a con tradition that men Ihould think without ideas.

That it has the appearance of a coutradidion, I confefs. But
this appearance arifes from the ambiguity of the word idea. If the
idea of a thing means only the thought of it, or the operation of
the mind in thinking about it, which is the moft common meaning
of the word, to think without ideas, is to think without thought,
which is undoubtedly a contradicflion.

But an idea according to the definition given of it by Philofo-
phers, is not thought, but an objecfl of thought, which really exifts,
and is perceived. Now whether is it a contradi(5lion to fay, that
a man may think of an objedl that does not exift ?

I acknowledge that a man cannot perceive an objeclil that does
not exift ; nor can he remember an objedl that did not exift ; but
there appears to me no contradicflion in his conceiving an obje«5l
that neither does, nor ever did exift.

Let us take an example. I conceive a centaur. This conception
is an operation of the mind, of which I am confcious, and to
which I can attend. The fole objecfk of it is a centaur, an animal
which I believe never exifted. I can fee no contradidlion in this.

The Philofopher fays, I cannot conceive a centaur without
having an idea of it in my mind. I am at a lofs to underftand
what he means. He furely does not mean that I cannot conceive*
it without conceiving it. This would make me no wifer. What
then is this idea ? Is it an animal, half horfe and half man ? No.
Then I am certain it is not the thing I conceive. Perhaps he will "
fay, that the idea is an image of the animal, and is the immediate
obje<5l of my conception, and that the animal is the mediate or
remote objecfl.

To

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 391

To this 1 anfwer : Firjiy I am certain there are not two objedls CHA?. IL
of this conception, but one only ; and that one is as immediate an
obje<5i: of my conception as any can be.

Secondly^ This one objecfl which I conceive, is not the image of
an animal, it is an animal. 1 know what it is to conceive an
image of an animal, and what it is to conceive an animal ; and
I can diftinguilh the one of thefe from the other without any
danger of miftake. The thing I conceive is a body of a certain
figure and colour, having life and fpontaneous motion. The Phi-
lofopher fays that the idea is an image of the animal, but that it
has neither body, nor colour, nor Hfe, nor fpontaneous motion.
This I am not able to comprehend.

Thirdly^ I wifh to know how this idea comes to be an objedl of
my thought, when I cannot even conceive what it means ; and if
I did conceive it, this would be no evidence of its exiflence, any
more than my conception of a centaur is of its exiflence. Phi-
lofophers fometimes fay that we perceive ideas, fometimes that we
are confcious of them. I can have no doubt of the exiftence of *

any thing, which I either perceive, or of which I am confcious ;
but I cannot find that 1 either perceive ideas or am confcious of
them.

Perception and confcioufnefs are very different operations, and
it is ftrange that Philofophers have never determined by which of
them ideas are difcerned. This is as if a man fliould pofitively
affirm that he perceived an objedl, but whether by his eyes, or his
ears, or his touch, he could not fay.

But may not a man who conceives a centaur fay, that he has a
diftinft image of it in his mind ? I think he may. And if he
means by this way of fpeaking what the vulgar mean, who never
heard of the philofophical theory of ideas, I find no fault with it.
By a di£lin(5l image in the mind, the vulgar mean a diflindl con-
ception 'y

393 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP TI •

• ception ; and it is natural to call it fo, on account of the analogy
between an image of a thing and the conception of it. On ac-
count of this analogy, obvious to all mankind, this operation is
called imagination, and an image in the mind is only a periphrafis
for imagination. But to infer from this that there is really an
image in the mind, diftindl from the operation of conceiving the
obje<5t, is to be milled by an analogical expreffion ; as if, from the
phrafes of deliberating and balancing things in the mind, we
fliould infer that there is really a balance exifting in the mind for
weighing motives and arguments.

The analogical words and phrafes, ufed in all languages to ex-
prefs conception, do no doubt facilitate their being taken in a literal
fenfe. But if we only attend carefully to what we are confcious
of in this operation, we (hall find no more reafon to think that
images do really exift in our minds, than that balances and other
mechanical engines do.

We know of nothing that is in the mind but by confcioufnefs,
and we are confcious of nothing but various modes of thinking ;
fuch as underftanding, willing, aflfedlion, paffion, doing, fufFer-
ing. If Philofophers chufe to give the name of an idea to any
mode of thinking, of which we are confcious, I have no obje<5lion
to the name ; but that it introduces a foreign word into our lan-
guage without neceflity, and a word tliat is very ambiguous, and
apt to miflead. But if they give that name to images in the mind,
which are not thought, but only objects of thought, I can fee no
reafon to think that there are fuch things in nature. If they be,
their exiftence and their nature mufl be more evident than any
thing elfe, becaufe we know nothing but by their means. I may
add, that if they be, we can know nothing befides them. For,
from the exiftence of images, we can never, by any juft reafoning,
infer the exiftence of any thing elfe, unlefs perhaps the exiftence
of an intelligent Author of them. In this Biihop Berkeley rea-
foned right.

In

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 393

In every work of defign, the work mufl: be conceived before it
is executed, that is, before it exifls. If a model, confiding of
ideas, mufl exift in the mind, as the object of this conception,
that model is a work of defign no lefs than the otherj of which i,t
is the model; and therefore, as a work of defign, it mufl have
been conceived before it exifled. In every work of defign, there-
fore, the conception mufl go before the exiflence. This argument
we appHed before to the Platonic fyflem of eternal and immutable
ideas, and it may be applied witli equal force to all the fyflems of
ideas.

If now it Ihould be afked. What is the idea of a circle ? I an-
iwer, It is the conception of a circle. What is the immediate ob-
je(5l of this conception ? The immediate and the only obje<5l of it
is a circle. But where is this circle ? It is no where. If it was
an individual, and had a real exiflence, it mufl have a place ; but
being an univerfal, it has no exiflence, and therefore no place. Is
it not in the mind of him that conceives it ? The conception of it
is in the mind, being an adl of the mind ; and in common lan-
guage, a thing being in the mind, is a figurative exprefhon, fig-
nifying that the thing is conceived or remembered.

•It may be aflced. Whether this conception is an image or refem-
blance of a circle ? I anfwer, I have already accounted for its being,
in a figurative fenfe, called the image of a circle in the mind. If
the queflion is meant in the literal fenfe, we mufl obferve, that
the word conception has two meanings. . Properly it fignifies that
operation of the mind which we have been endeavouring to ex-
plain ; but fotaetimes it is put for the obje<5l of conception, or thing
conceived.

Now, if the queflion be underftood in the lafl of thefe fenfes,
the obje6l of this conception is not an image or refemblance of a
circle ; for it is a circle, and nothing can be an image of itfelf.

Ddd If

CHAP. II,

394 ESSAY IV.

CHAP, n.^ If []^g quefllon be, Whether the operation of mind in conceiving
a circle be an image or relbmblance of a circle ? 1 think it is not ;
and that no two things can be more perfedlly unlike, than a fpecies
of thought and a fpecies of figure. " Nor is it more flrange that
conception (hould have no refemblance to the objedl conceived, than
that defire fhould have no refemblance to the obje6l defired, or re-
fentment to the objedl of refentment.

I can likewife conceive an individual objeifl: that really exifts,
fuch as St Paul's church in London. I have an idea of it ; that is,
I conceive it. The immediate objedl of this conception is four
hundred miles diftant ; and I have no reafon to think that it adts
upon me, or that I adl upon it ; but I can think of it notwith-
(landing. I can think of the firft year, or the lafl year of the Ju-
lian period.

If, after all, it fhould be thought, that images in the mind ferve
to account for this faculty of conceiving things mofl diftant in
time and place, and even things which do not exift, which other-
wife would be altogether inconceivable ; to this I anfwer, That
accounts of things, grounded upon conjedlure, have been the bane
of true philofophy in all ages. Experience may fatisfy us, that it
is an hundred times more probable that they are falfe than that
they are true.

This account of the faculty of conception, by images in the
mind, or in the brain, will deferve the regard of thofe who have
a true tafte in philofophy, when it is proved by folid arguments,
fr/I, That there are images in the mind, or in the brain, of the
things we conceive. Secondly, That there is a faculty in the mind
of perceiving fuch images. 'Thirdly, That the perception of fuch
images produces the conception of things mofl diftant, and even
of things that have no exiftence. And, fottrlhly. That the percep-
tion of individual images in the mind, or in the brain, gives us
the conception of univerfals, which are the attributes of many in-
dividuals.

THEORIES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 395

dividuals. Until this is done, the theory of images exifling in the CHAP. ii.
mind, or in the brain, ought to be placed in the fame category
with the fenfible fpecies, and materia prhna of Aristotle, and the
vortices of Des Cartes.

CHAP. III.

Mt/lakes concerning Conception.

I. \T7RITERS on Logic, after the example of Aristotle,
VV divide the operations of the underftanding into three;
fimple apprehenfion, which is another word for conception, judg-
ment, and reafoning. They teach us, that reafoning is exprelTed
by a fyllogifm, judgment by a propofition, and fimple apprehen-
fion by a term only, that is, by one or more words which do not
make a full propofition, but only the fubjedl or predicate of a pro-
pofition. If by this they mean, as I think they do, that a propo-
fition, or even a fyllogifm, may not be fimply apprehended, I be-
lieve this is a miftake.

In all judgment and in all reafoning conception is included. We
can neither judge of a propofition, nor reafon about it, unlefs we
conceive or apprehend it. We may difi;in6lly conceive a propofi-
tion, without judging of it at all.. We may have no evidence on
one fide or the other ; we may have no concern whether it be true
or falfe. In thefe cafes we commonly form no judgment about it,
though we perfedly underftand its meaning.

A man may difcourfe or plead, or write, for other ends than to
find the truth. His learning, and wit, and invention, may be
employed, while his judgment is not at all, or very little. When
it is not truth, but fome other end he purfues, judgment would

D d d a be

59^

ESSAY IV.

aiAi'. III. be an impediment, unlefs for difcovering the means of attaining
" ' ' his end ; and therefore it is laid afide, or employed folely for that
purpofe.

The bufmefs of an orator is faid to be, to find out what is fit to
perfuade. This a man may do with much ingenuity, who never
took the trouble to examine whether it ought to perfuade or not.
Let it not be thought, therefore, that a man judges of the truth of
every propofition he utters, or hears uttered. In our commerce
with the world, judgment is not the talent that bears the greatefl
price ; and therefore thofe who are not fincere lovers of truth,
lay up this talent, where it rufts and corrupts, while they carry-
others to market, for which there is greater demand.

2. The divifion commonly made, by Logicians, of fimple ap-
prehenfion, into fenfation, imagination, and pure intelledion, feems
to me very improper in feveral refpeifts.

Firji^ Under the word fenfation, they include lipt only what
is properly fo called, but the perception of external objedts by
the fenfes. Thefe are very different operations of the mind ;
and although they are commonly conjoined by nature, ought to be
carefully diflinguifhed by Philofophers.

■Secondly^ Neither fenfation, nor the perception of external ob-
jedls, is fimple apprehenfion. Both include judgment and belief,
which are excluded from fimple apprehenfion.

Thirdly^ Th^y diflinguifh imagination from pure intellecf^ion by
this, that in imagination the image is in the brain, in pure intel-
ledlion it is in the intelle(5l. This is to ground a diftindlion upon
an hypothefis. We have no evidence that there are images either in
the brain or in the intelle(fl.

1 take imagination, in its raoft proper fenfe, to fignify a lively

conception

MISTAKES CONCER^INa CONCEPTION. 397

conception of objecfls of fight.. This 13 a talent of importance to CHAP, in..
poets and orators, and deferves a proper name, on account of its
connedlion with thofe arts. According to this ftrid meaning of
the word, imagination is difhinguilhed from conception as_a part
from the whole. We conceive the objedls of the other fenfes, but
it is not fo proper to fay that we imagine them. We conceive
judgment, reafoning, propofitions, and arguments; but it is ra-
tlier improper to fay that we imagine thefe things.

This diftindlion between imagination and conception, may be '
illuflrated by an example, which Des Cartes ufes to illuftrate the
diflindlion between irhagination and pure intellecSlion. We can
imagine a triangle or a fquare fo clearly as to diftinguiih them
from every other figure. But we cannot imagine a figure of a
thoufand equal fides and angles, fo clearly. The befl eye, by look-
ing at it, could not diftinguiih it from every figure of more or
fewer fides. And that conception of its appearance to the eye,
which we properly call imagination, cannot be more diftindl than
the appearance itfelf; yet we can- conceive a figure of a thoufand
fides, and even can demonftrate the properties which diftinguiih it
from all figures of inore or fewer fides. It is not by the eye, but
by a fuperior faculty, that we form the notion of a great number,
fuch as a thoufand : And a diftin(5l notion of this number of fides
not being to be got by the eye, it is not imagined but it is diftind-
ly conceived, and eafily diftinguilhed from every'other number.

3. Simple apprehenfion is commonly rpprefented as the firft ope-
ration of the underftanding ; and judgment, as being a eompofitioni
»r combination of "fimple apprehenfionsV"' ' ' '' *

Th;s miftake has probably arifen from the' taking fenfation, and
the perception of .objects by the fenfes, to be nothing but fimple
apprehenfion. They are very probably the firft operations of the:
tnlnd, but they are not fimple apprehenfipns. .

•• Ic.

398 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. IIT. jj js generally allowed, that we cannot conceive founds if we
have never heard, nor colours if we have never feen ; and the fame
thing may be faid of the objedls of the other fenfes. In like man-
ner, we muft have judged or reafoned before we have the concep-
tion or fimple apprehenfion of judgment, and of reafoning.

Simple apprehenfion, therefore, though it be the fimpleft, is not
the firfl operation of the underflanding ; and inftead of faying, that
the more complex operations of the mind are formed by compound-
ing fimple apprehenfions, we ought rather to fay, that fimple ap-
prehenfions are got by analyfing more complex operations.

A fimilar millake, which is carried through the whole of Mr
Locke's Eflay, may be here mentioned. It is, that our fimpleft
ideas or conceptions are got immediately by the fenfes, or by con-
fcioufnefs, and the complex afterwards formed by compounding
them. I apprehend, it is far otherwife.

Nature prefents no obje<5l to the fenfes, or to confcioufnefs, that
is not complex. Thus, by our fenfes we perceive bodies of vari-
ous kinds ; but every body is a complex obje(5l ; it has length,
breadth, and thicknefs ; it has figure, and colour, and various other
fenfible qualities, which are blended together in the fame fubjecfl ;
and I apprehend, that brute animals, who have the fame fenfes that
we have, cannot feparate the different qualities belonging to the
fame fubjecfl, and have only a complex and confufed notion of the
whole : Such alfo would be our notions of the obje;5ls of fenfe, if
we had not fuperlor powers of underrtanding, by which we can
analyfe the complex obje6l, abftradl every particular attribute from
the reft, and form a diftindl conception of it.

So that it is not by the fenfes immediately, but rather by the
powers of analyfing and abftradlion, that we get the moft fimple,
and the moft diftindl notions even of the obje(fls of fenfe. This
will be more fully explained in another place.

4. There

MISTAKES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 399

4. There remains another miftake concerning conception, which CHAT, ill,
deferves to be noticed. It is, that our conception of things is a tell
of their pofTibiUty, fo that, what we can diftincftly conceive, we
may conchide to be poffible j and of what is impoflible, we can
have no conception.

This opinion has been held by Pliilofophers for more than an
hundred years, without contradi(5lion or diflent, as far as I know ;
and if it be an error, it may be of fome ufe to enquire into its
origin, and the caufes that it has been fo generally received as a
maxim, whofe truth could not be brought into doubt.

One of the fruitlefs queftions agitated among the fcholaftic Phi-
lofophers in the dark ages was, What is the criterion of truth ? as
if men could have any other way to diftinguifh truth from error,
but by the right ufe of that power of judging which God has gi-
ven them.

Des Cartes endeavoured to put an end to this controverfy, by
making it a fundamental principle in his fyflem, that whatever
we clearly and diftindlly perceive, is true.

To underfland this principle of Des Cartes, it muft be ob-
ferved, that he gave the name of perception to every power of
the human underftanding ; and in explaining this very maxim, he
tells us, that fenfe, imagination, and pure intelledlion, are only
different modes of perceiving, and fo the maxim was underflood
by all his followers.

The learned Dr Cudworth feems alfo to have adopted this
principle : " The criterion of true knowledge, fays he, is only to
" be looked for in our knowledge and conceptions themfelves :
" For the entity of all theoretical truth is nothing elfe but clear

intelligibility, and whatever is clearly conceived is an entity and
" a truth ; but that which is falfe, Divine power itfelf cannot

" make

406 E S S A Y IV.

'G-HAP- '[^l- " make it to be clearly and dilliiK^ly underftood. A falsehood
* " can never be clearly conceived or apprehended to be true."

Etern. and Immut. Morality, p. 172, ^c.

This Cartefian maxim feems to me to have led the veay to that
now under confideration, which feems to have been adopted as
> the proper correal ion of the former. When the authority of Des
Cartes declined, men began to fee that we may clearly and di-
ftindlly conceive What is not true, but thought, that our concep-
tion, though not in all cafes a teft of truth, might be a teft of
poiTibility.

This indeed feems to be a neceffary confcquence of the received
dodrine of ideas ; it being evident, that there can be no diftincfl
image, either in the mind or any where elfe, of that which is
impoflible. The ambiguity of the word conceive, which we ob-
ferved Effay I. chap. i. and the common phrafeology of faying
ijve cannot conceive fuch a thing, when we would fignify that we
think it impoflible, might likewife contribute to the reception of
this do(5lrine.

But whatever was the origin of this opinion, it feems to pre-
vail univerfally, and to be received as a maxim.

" The bare having an idea of the propofition proves the thing
** not to be impoflible ; for of an impoflible propofition there can
" be no idea." Dr Sam. Clarke. .

" Of that which neither does nor can exifl we can have no
" idea." L. Bolingbroke.

" The meafure of impofllbility to \is is inconceivablenefs, that
*' of which we can have no idea, but that refledling upon it, it
appears to be nothing, we pronounce to be impoflible." Aber-

^s'ETHV.

"In

MISTAKES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 401

" In every idea is implied the pofTibillty of the exiftence of its chap. hi.
" objed, nothing being clearer than that there can be no idea of
" an impoflibility, or conception of what cannot exift." Dr Price.

" Impoflibile eft cujus nullam notionem formare pofTumus ; '

" poffibile e contra, cui aliqua refpondet notio." Wolfii On-

TOLOG.

" It is an eftablifhed maxim in metaphyfics, that whatever the
" mind conceives, includes the idea of poffible exiftence, or, in
" other vi'ords, that nothing we imagine is abfolutely impofTible."
D. Hume.

It were eafy to mufter np many other rerpe61;able authorities
for this maxim, and I have never found one that called it in
queftion.

If the maxim.be true in the extent which the famous Wolfius
has given it, in the paflage above quoted, we fliall have a fhort
road to the determination of every queftion about the polTibility
or impoffibility of things. We need only look into our own
breaft, and that, like the Urim and Thummim, will give an in-
fallible anfwer. If we can conceive the thing, it is poffible ; if
not, it is impoffible. And furely every man may know whether
he can conceive what is affirmed or not.

Other Philofophers have been fatisfied with one half of the
maxim of Wolfius. They fay, that whatever we can conceive
is poffible ; but they do not fay, that whatever we cannot conceive
is impoffible,

I cannot help thinking even this to be a miftake, which Philo-
fophers have been unwarily led into, from the caufes before men-
tioned. My reafons are thefe:

E e e I. Whatever

4D2

ESSAY IV.

)

CHAP. III. I, Whatever is faid to be poffible or Impoflible is exprefTed by
a propofition. Now, What is it to conceive a propofition ? I think
it is no more than to underftand diflindlly its meaning. I know
no more that can be meant by fimple apprehenlion or conception,
when appUed to a propofition. The axiom, therefore, amounts
to this : Every propofition, of which you underftand the mean-
ing diflindlly, is polfible. I am perfuaded, that I underftand as
diftinifHy the meaning of this propofition, Any two fides of a triangle
are together equal to the thirds as of this, Any twofdes of a triangle
are together greater than the third ; yet the firft of thefe is impoflible.

Perhaps it will be faid, that though you underftand the mean- '
ing of the impoflible propofition, you cannot fuppofe or conceive
it to be true.

Here we are to examine the meaning of the phrafes oi fuppo-
fing and concei'ving a propofition to be true. I can certainly fup-
pofe it to be true, becaufe I can draw confequences from it which
I find to be impoflible, as well as the propofition itfelf.

If by conceiving it to be true be meant giving fome degree of
aflent to it, however fmall, this, I confefs, I cannot do. But will
it be faid, that every propofition to which I can give any degree
of aflTent is poflible ? This contradidls experience, and therefore
the maxim cannot be true in this fenfe.

Sometimes, when we fay that we cannot conceive a thing to be true^
we mean by that expreflion, that we judge it to be impoffible. In this
fenfe, I cannot, indeed, conceive it to be true, that two fides of
a triangle are equal to the third. I judge it to be impoflible. If,
then, we underftand in this fenfe that maxim, that nothing we
can conceive is impoflible, the meaning will be, that nothing is
impoflible which we judge to be poflible. But does it not often
happen, that what one man judges to be poflible, another man
judges to be impoflible ? The maxim, therefore, is not true in
this fenfe.

I

MISTAKES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 403

I am not able to find any other meaning of conce'iving a propofitlon^ C^^Y. ill.
or of conceiving it to be trne^ befides thefe 1 have mentioned. 1 know
nothmg that can be meant by having the idea of a propolition,
but either the underdanding its meaning, or the judging of its
truth. I can underftand a proportion that is falfe or impoffible,
as well as one that is true orpoffible; and I find that men have
contradidlory judgments about what is pofTible or impofllble, as
well as about other things. In what fenfe then can it be faid, that
the having an idea of a propofition gives certain evidence that it is
poflible ?

If it be faid, that the idea of a propofition is an image of it in
the mind ; I think indeed there cannot be a diflincl image either in
the mind, or elfcwhere, of that which is iinpofTiblc ; but what is
meant by the image of a propofition I am not able to comprehend,
and I fliall be glad to be informecL

2. Every propofition, that is neceflarily true, ftands oppofed to^
a contradictory propofition that is impoflible; and he that conceives
one, conceives both ; Thus a man who believes that two and three
necefTarily make five, muft believe it to be impoflible that two and
three fhould not make five. He conceives both propofitions when
he believes one. Every propofition carries its contradi(5lory in its
bofom, and both are conceived at the fame time. " It is confelled,
" fays MrEIuME, that in all cafes where we difTent from any per-
" foil, we conceive both fides of the queflion, but we can believe
" only one." From this.it certainly follows, that when we difTent
from any perfon about a neceflTary propofition, we conceive one
that is impoffible ; yet I know no Philofopher who has made fo
much ufe of the maxim, that whatever we conceive is poflible, as
Mr Hume. A great part of his peculiar tenets is built upon it;
and if it is true, they mufl be true. Bur he did not perceive, that
in the paflage now quoted, the truth of which is evident, he coa-
tradids it himfelf,

E e e 2 3. Mathematicians

4^4

ESSAY IV,

CHAP. III. 2- Mathematicians have, in many cafes, proved fomc things to
be poflible, and others to be impoffible; which, without demonftra-
tion, would not have been beheved : Yet I have never found, that
any Mathematician has attempted to prove a thing to be poffible,
becaufe it can be conceived ; or impoflible, becaufe it cannot be
conceived. Why is not this maxim appHed to determine whether
it is poffible to fquare the circle ? a point about which very emi-
nent Mathematicians have differed. It is eafy to conceive, that in
the infinite feries of numbers, and intermediate fradions, fome one
number, integral or fradional, may bear the fame ratio to another,
as the fide of a fquare bears to its diagonal ; yet, however concei-
vable this may be, it may be demonftratcd to be impoflible.

4. Mathematicians often require' us to conceive things that are
impoflible, in order to prove them to be fo, This is the cafe in
all their demonfl:rations, ad abfurdum. Conceive, fays Euclid, a
right line drawn from one point of the circumference of a circle to
another, to fall without the circle ; I conceive this, I reafon from
it, until I come to a confequence that is manifeftly abfurd ; and
from thence conclude, that the thing which I conceived is impoffible.

Having faid fo much to fhew, that our power of conceiving a
propofition is no criterion of its pofllbility or impoffibility, I (hall
add a few obfervations on the extent of our knowledge of this kind.

1. There are many propofitions which, by the faculties God has
given us, we judge to be neceflTary, as well as true. All mathema-
tical propofitions are of this kind, and many others. The contra-
di(5lories of fuch propofitions muft: be impoffible. Our knowledge,
therefore, of what is impoffible, muft at leaft be as extenfive as our
knowledge of neceflary truth.

2. By our fenfes, by memory, by teftimony, and by other means,
we know many things to be true, which do not appear to be necef-
fary. Eut whatever is true, is poffible. Our knowledge, therefore,

of

MISTAKES CONCERNING CONCEPTION. 405

of what is pofTible, muft at leafl extend as far as our knowledge of chap, iir.
truth.

3. If a man pretends to determuie the pofllbillty or impofll-
bility of things beyond thefe limits, let him bring proof. I do not
fay that no fuch proof can be brought. It has been brought in
many cafes, particularly in mathematics. But I fay, that his be-
ing able to conceive a thing, is no proof that it is poffible. Ma-
thematics afford many inftances of impoffibilities in the nature of
things, which no man would have believed, if they had not been
ftrit^ly demonftrated. Perhaps, if we were able to reafon demon-
flratively in other fubje<5ls, to as great extent as in mathematics, we
might find many things to be impoffible, which we conclude, with-
out hefitation, to be poffible.

It is poffible, you fay, that God might have made an univerfe
of fenfible and rational creatures, into which neither natural nor
moral evil fliould ever enter. It may be fo, for what I know : But
how do you know that it is poffible ? That you can conceive it, I
grant ; but this is no proof. I cannot admit, as an argument, or
even as a preffing difficulty, what is grounded on the fuppofition
that fuch a thing is poffible, when there is no good evidence that
it is poffible, and, for any thing we know, it may in the nature of
things be impoffible.

CHAP. IV.

Of the Train of Thought in the Mind.

EVERY man is confcious of a fucceffion of thoughts which
pafs in his mind while he is awake, even when they are not
excited by external objeds.

The

4c6 ■ E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. IV. -fhe mind on this account may be compared to liquor in the ftatc
of fermentation. When it is not in this flate, being once at reft,
it remains at reft, until it is moved by fome external impulfe. But,
in the ftate of fermentation, it has fome caufe of motion in itfelf,
which, even when there is no impulfe from without, fuffers it not
to be at reft a moment, but produces a conftant motion and ebul-
lition, while it continues to ferment.

Tliere is furely no fTmilitude between motion and thought ; buj
there is an analogy, fo obvious to all men, that the fame words
are often applied to both ; and many modifications of thought
have no name but fuch as. is borrowed from the modifications of
motion. Many thoughts are excited by the fenfes. The caufes or
occafions of thefe may be confidered as external : But, when fuch
external caufes do not operate upon us, we continue to think from
fome internal caufe. From the conftitution of the mind itfelf
there is a conftant ebullition of thought, a conftant intell.ine mo-
tion ; not only of thoughts barely fpeculative, but of fentiments,
paffions and afFedlions, which attend them.

This continued fucceffion of thought has, by modern Philofo-
phers, been called the imagination. 1 think it was formerly called
the fancy, or the phantafy. If the old name be laid afide, it were
to be wiflied that it had got a name lefs ambiguous than that of
imagination, a name which had two or three meanings befides.

It is often called the train of ideas. This may lead one to think
that it is a train of bare conceptions ; but this would furely be a
miftake. It is made up of many other operations of mind, as well
as of conceptions, or ideas.

Memory, judgment, reafoning, pafTions, aiFe(5lions and purpofes;
in a word, every operation of the mind, excepting thofe of fenfe,
is exerted occafionally in this train of thought, and has its fhare
as an ingredient : So that we muft take the word idea in a very

extenfive

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND.

407

extenfive fenfe, if we make the train of our thoughts to be only a CHAP, iv.
train of ideas.

To pafs from the name, and confider the thing, we may obferve,
that the trains of thought in the mind are of two kinds ; they are
either fuch as flow fpontaneoufly, like water from a fountain, with-
out any exertion of a governing principle to arrange them ; or they
are regulated and diredled by an adlive effort of the mind, with
fome view and intention.

Before we confider thefe in their order, it is proper to premife,
that thefe two kinds, however diftindl in their nature, are for the
mod part mixed, in perfons awake and come to years of under-
ftanding.

On the one hand, we are rarely fo vacant of all projedl and de-
fign, as to let our thoughts take their own coujrfe, without the leaft
check or diredlion : Or if at any time we fliould be in this (late,
fome objedl will prefent itfelf, which is too interefliing not to en-
gage the attention, and roufe the adive or contemplative powers
that were at reft.

On the other hand, when a man is giving the moft intenfe ap-
plication to any fpeculation, or to any fcheme of condudl, when
he wills to exclude every thought that is foreign to his prefent pur-
pofe, fuch thoughts will often impertinently intrude upon him, in
fpite of his endeavours to the contrary, and occupy, by a kind of
violence, fome part of the time dellined to another purpofe. One
man may have the command of his thoughts more than another man,
and the fame man more at one time than at another : But I appre-
hend, in the beft trained mind the thovights will fometimes be
reftive, fometimes capricious and felf-willed, when we wifh to have
them moft under command.

It has been obferved very juftly, that we muft not afcribe to the

miud

4o8 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. IV. ixiind the power of calling up any thought at pleafure, bccaufe
fuch a call or volition fuppofes that thought to be already
ia the mind ; for otherwife, how fliould it be the objedl of voli-
tion ? As this mull be granted on the one hand, fo it is nolefs cer-
tain on the other, that a man has a confiderable power in regula-
ting and difpofing his own thoughts. Of this every man is con-
fcious, and I can no more doubt of it, than I can doubt whether I
think at all.

• We feem to treat the thoughts that prefent themfelves to the fan-
cy in crowds, as a great man treats thofe that attend his levee.
They are all ambitious of his attention ; he goes round the circle,
beftowing a bow upon one, a fmile upon another ; afks a fliort
queflion of a third ; while a fourth is honoured with a particular
conference ; and the greater part have no particular mark of atten-
tion, but go as they came. It is true, he can give no mark of his
attention to thofe who were not there, but he has a fufficient num-
ber for making a choice and diftincSlion.

In like manner, a number of thoughts prefent themfelves to the
fancy fpontaneoufly ; but if we pay no attention to them, nor hold
any conference with them, they pafs with the crowd, and are im-
mediately forgot, as if they had never appeared. But thofe to
which we think proper to pay attention, may be flopped, examined,
arid arranged, for any particular purpofe we have in view.

It may likewife be obferved, that a. train of thought, which was
at firft compofed by application and jmlgment, when it has been
often repeated, and becomes familiar, will prefent itfelf fpontane-
ouGy. Thus when a man has compofed an air in mufic, fo as to
pleafe his own ear ; after he has played, or fung it often, the notes
will arrange themfelves in jull order ; and it requires no effort to
regulate their fucceflion.

Thus we fee, that the fancy is made up of trains of thinking;

fome

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 409

fome of which are fpontaneous, others ftudied and regulated ; and ^^^^' ^^/
the greater part are mixed of both kinds, and take their denomi-
nation from that which is moft prevalent : And that a train of
thought, which at firfl was ftudied and compofed, may by habit
prefent itfelf fpontaneoufly. Having premifed thefe things, let us
return to thofe trains of thought which are fpontaneous, which
muft be firft in the order of nature.

"When the work of the day is over, and a man lies down to re-
lax his body and mind, he cannot ceafe from thinking, though he
defires it. Something occurs to his fancy ; that is followed by an-
other thing, and ih his thoughts are carried on from one objedl to
another, until fleep clofes the fcene.

In this operation of the mind, it is not one faculty only that is
employed ; there are many that join together in its produdlion.
Sometimes the tranfadlions of the day are brought upon the ftage,
and a(5led over again, as it were, upon this theatre of the imagina-
tion. In this cafe, memory furely adls the moft confiderable part,
fince the fcenes exhibited are not ficflions, but realities, which we
remember ; yet in this cafe the memory does not a&. alone, other
powers are employed, and attend upon their proper objedls. The
tranfa(5lions remembered will be more or lefs interefting ; and we
cannot then review our own condu<5l, nor that of others, without
paffing fome judgment upon it. This we approve, that we difap-
prove. This elevates, that humbles and deprefles us. Perfons
that are not abfolutely indifferent to us, can hardly appear, even to
the imagination, without fome friendly or unfriendly emotion.
We judge and reafon about things, as well as perfons in fuch reve-
ries. We remember what a man faid and did ; from this we pafs
to his defigns, and to his general charadler, and frame fome hypo-
thefis to make the whole confiftent. Such trains of thought we
may call hiftorical.

There are others which we may call romantic, in which the

F f f plot

ESSAY IV.

plot is formed by the creative power of fancy, without any regard
to what did or will happen. In thefe alfo, the powers of judg-
ment, tafte, moral fentiment, as well as the paffions and afFedlions,
come in and take a Ihare in the execution.

In thefe fcenes, the man himfelf commonly adls a very diftin-
guifhed part, and feldom does any thing which he cannot approve.
Here the mifer will be generous, the coward brave, and the knave
honeft. Mr Addison, in the SpeSlator^ calls this play of the fan-
cy, caftle building.

The young Politician, who has turned his thoughts to the affairs
of government, becomes in his imagination a miniller of ftate.
He examines every fpring and wheel of the machine of govern-
ment with the nicell eye, and the moft exadl judgment. He finds
a proper remedy for every diforder of the copamonwealth, quickens
trade and manufa<5tures by falutary laws, encourages arts and fci-
ences, and makes the nation happy at home, and refpe<5led abroad.
He feels the reward of his good adminiflration, in that felf-appro-
bation which attends it, and is happy in acquiring, by his wife
and patriotic condud, the bleffings of the prefent age, and the
praifes of thofe that are to come.

It is probable, that, upon the flage of imagination, more great
exploits have been performed in every age, than have been upon
the flage of life from the beginning of the world. An innate de-
fire of felf-approbation is undoubtedly a part of the human con-
flitution. It is a powerful fpur to worthy condudl, and is intend-
ed as fuch by the Author of our being. A man cannot be eafy or
happy, unlefs this defire be in fome meafure gratified. While he
conceives himfelf worthlefs and bafe, he can relifli no enjoyment.
The humiliating mortifying fentiment muft be removed, and this
natural defire of felf-approbation will either produce a noble effort
to acquire real worth, which is its proper diredlion, or it will
lead into fome of thofe arts of felf-deceit, which create a falfe opi-
nion of worth.

A

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 411

A caftle builder, in the ficfliclous fcenes of his fancy, will figure, CHAP. l\\
not according to his real charadler, but according to the highcft
opinion he has been able to form of himfelf, and perhaps far be-
yond that opinion. For in thofe imaginary conflidls the paffions
eafily yield to reafon, and a man exerts the nobleft efforts of vir-
tue and magnanimity, with the fame eafe, as, in his dreams, he
flies through the air, or plunges to the bottom of the ocean.

The romantic fcenes of fancy are mofl commonly the occupa-
tion of young minds, not yet fo deeply engaged in life as to have
their thoughts taken up by its real cares and bufinefs.

Thofe active powers of the mind, which are moft luxuriant by
conftitution, or have been mofl cherifhed by education, impatient
to exert themfelves, hurry the thought into fcenes that give them
play ; and the boy commences in imagination, according to the
bent of his mind, a general or a ftatefman, a poet or an orator.

When the fair ones become caftle builders, they ufe different
materials ; and while the young foldier is carried into the field of
Mars, where he pierces the thickeft fquadrons of the enemy, de-'
fpifing death in all its forms, the gay and lovely nymph, whofe
heart has never felt the tender paflion, is tranfported into a bril-
liant affembly, where Ihe draws the attention of every eye, and
makes an impreffion on the nobleft heart.

But no fooner has Cupid's arrow found its way into her own
heart, than the whole fcenery of her imagination is changed. Balls
and affemblies have now no charms. Woods and groves, the
flowery bank, and the cryftal fountain, are the fcenes Ihe fre-
quents in imagination. She becomes an Arcadian fliepherdefs,
feeding her flock befides that of her Strephon, and wants no more
to complete her happinefs.

In a few years the love-fick maid is transformed into the folici-

F f f 2 t0U8

413 ESSAY IV.

^^^^5' ^'^' ^°^^ mother. Her fmiling offspring play around her. She views
them with a parent's eye. Her imagination immediately raifes
them to manhood, and brings them forth upon the flage of life.
One fon makes a figure in the army, another fhines at the bar ;
her daughters are happily difpofed of in marriage, and bring new
alliances to the family. Her childrens .children rife up before her,^
and venerate her gray hairs.

Thus, the fpontaneous fallies of fancy are as various as the cares
and fears, the defires and hopes, of man.

^'icquid agtint homines^ votum, limor, ira, voluptas^
Gaudiay difcurfus :

Thefe fill up the fcenes of fancy, as well as the page of the Satyrifl:.
"Whatever poffeffes the heart makes occafional excurfions into the
imagination, and adls fuch fcenes upon that theatre as are agree-
able to the prevailing paffion. The man of traffic, who has com-
mitted a rich cargo to the inconftant ocean, follows it in his
thought ; and, according as his hopes or his fears prevail, he is
haunted with ftorms, and rocks, and fhipwreck; or he makes a
happy and a lucrative voyage ; and before his veffel has loft fight
of land, he has difpofed of the profit which flie is to bring at her
return..

The Poet is carried into the Elyfian fields, where he converfes
with the ghofts of Homer and Orpheus. The Philofopher makes
a tour through the planetary fyftem, or goes down to the centre
of the earth, and examines its various ftrata. In the devout man
likewife, the great objedls that pofTefs his heart often play in his
imagination ; Ibmetimes he is tranfported to the regions of the
blefled, from whence he looks down with pity upon the. folly and
the pageantry of human life ; or he proftrates himfelf before the
throne of the Moft High with devout veneration ; or he converfes
with celeftial fpirits about the natural and moral kingdom of God,

which.

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 413

which he now fees only by a faint light, but hopes, hereafter to CHAP, iv..
view with a (leadier and brighter ray.

In perfons come to maturity, there is even in thefe fpontaneous
fallies of fancy, fome arrangement of thought; and I conceive that
it will be readily allowed, that in thofe who have the greatefl flock
of knowledge, and the beft natural parts, even the fpontaneous
movements of fancy will be the moft regular and connedled. They
have an order, connecSlion, and unity, by which they are no lefs
diflinguiflied from the dreams of one afleep, or the ravings of one
delirious on the one hand, than from the finiflied produdlions of
art on the other.

How is this" regular arran-gement brought about ? It has all the
marks of judgment and reafon, yet it feems to go befare judgment,.
and to fpring forth fpontaneoufly.

Shall we believe with Leibnitz, that the mind wzs originally
formed like a watch wound up ; and that all its thoughts, purpofes,
paffions, and adlions, are effedled by the gradual evolution of the
original fpring. of the machine, and fucceed each other in order, as
neccflarily as the motions and pulfations of a. watch ?

If a child of three or four years, were put to account for the
phaenomena of a watch, he would conceive that there is a little
man within the watch, or fome other little animal, that beats con-
tinually, and produces the motion. Whether the hypothefis of this
young Philofopher in turning the watch fpring into a man, or that
of the German Philofopher in turning a man into a watch fpring,
he the moft rational, feems hard to determine. .

To account for the regularity of our firft thoughts, from mo-
tions of animal fpirits, vibrations of nerves, attra6lions of ideas, .
or from any other unthinking caufe, whether mechanical or con-
tingent, feems equally irrational.

If.

ESSAY IV.

If we be not able to diflinguilTi the flrongefl marks of thought
and deiign from the elfecls of mechanifm or contingency, the con-
fequence will be very melancholy : For it mnft neceflfarily follow,
that we have no evidence of thought in any of our fellow men,
nay that xte have no evidence of thought or defign in the (Irucflure
and government of the univerfe. If a good period or fentence
was ever produced without having had any judgment previoufly
employed about it, why not an Iliad or Eneld ? They differ only
in lefs and more ; and we fliould do injuftice to the Philofopher of
Laputa, in laughing at his projed of making poems by the turn-
ing of a wheels if a concurrence of unthinking caxifes may pro-
duce a rational train of thought.

It is, therefore, in itfelf highly probable, to fay no more, that
whatfoever is regular and rational in a train of thought, which
prefents itfelf fpontaneoufly to a man's fancy, without any ftudy,
is a copy of what had been before compofed by his own rational
pow^ers, or thofe of fome other perfon.

We certainly judge fo in fimilar cafes. Thus, in a book I find
a train of thinking, which has the marks of knowledge and
judgment. I aflc how it was produced ? It is printed in a book.
This does not fatisfy me, becaufe the book has no knowledge nor
reafon. I am told that a printer printed it, and a compofitor fet
the types. Neither does this fatisfy me. Thefe caufes perhaps
knew very little of the fubjecft. There mull be a prior caufe of
the compofition. It was printed from a manufcript. True. But
the manufcript is as ignorant as the printed book. The manu-
fcript was- written or dictated by a man of knowledge and judg-
ment. This, and this only, will fatisfy a man of common un-
derOianding ; and it appears to him extremely ridiculous to believe
that fuch a train of thinking could originally be produced by any
caufe that neither reafons nor thinks.

Whether fuch a train of thinking be printed in a book, or

printed,

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND.

415

printed, fo to fpcak, in his mind, and iflue fpontaneoufly from CHAP. IV.
his fancy, it mufl have been compofed with judgment by himfelf,
or by fome other rational being.

This, I think, will be confirmed by tracing the progrefs of the
human fancy as far back as we are able.

We have not the means of knowing how the fancy is employed
in infants. Their time is divided between the employment of
their fenfes and found fleep : So that there is little time left for
imagination, and the materials it has to work upon are probably
very fcanty. A few days after they are born, fometimes a few
hours, we fee them fmile in their fleep. But what they fmile at
is not eafy to guefs ; for they do not fmile at any thing they fee,
when awake, for fome months after they are born. It is likewife
common to fee them move their lips in fleep, as if they were
fucking.

Thefe things feem to difcover fome working of the imagina-
tion; but there is no reafon to think that there is any regular
train of thought in the mind of infants.

By a regular train of thought, I mean that which has a begin-
ning, a middle, and an end, an arrangement of its parts, ac-
cording to fome rule, or with fome intention. Thus, the con-
ception of a defign, and of the means of executing it ; the con-
ception of a whole, and the number and order of the parts.
Thefe are inftances of the moft fimple trains of thought that can
be called regular.

«

Man has undoubtedly a power (whether we call it tafle or
judgment, is not of any confequence in the prefent argument)
whereby he diftinguifhes between a compofition, and a heap of ma-
terials ; between a houfe, for inftance, and a heap of ftones ;
between a fentence and a heap of words ; between a pidure, and

a

•416 ESSAY IV.

'pHAP.n^ a heap of colours. It does not appear to me that children have
any regular trains of thought until this power begins to operate.
Thofe who are born fuch idiots as never to fhew any figns of this
power, fliow as little any figns of regularity of thought. It feems,
-therefore, that this power is conneded with all regular trains of
thought, and may be the caufe of them.

Such tiains of thought difcover themfelves in children about two
years of age. They can then -give attention to the operations of
older children in making their little houfes, and Ihips, and other
fuch things, in imitation of the works of men. They are then
capable of underftanding a little of language, which fhews both a
regular train of thinking, and fome degree of abflradion. I think
we may perceive a diftindion between the faculties of children of
tw^o or three years of age, and ihofe of the moft fagacious brute^.
They can then perceive defign and regularity in the works of
others, efpecially of older children ; their little minds are fired with
the difcovery ; they are eager to imitate it, and never at reft till
they can exhibit fomething of the fame kind.

When a child firft learns by imitation to do fomething that re-
quires defign, how does he exult! Pythagoras was not more
happy in the difcovery of his famous theorem. He feems then firft
to refle<5l upon himfelf, and to fwell with felf-efteem. His eyes
fparkle. He is impatient to fhew his performance to all about him,
and thinks himfelf entitled to their applaufe. He is applauded by
all, and feels the fame emotion from this applaufe, as a Roman
Conful did from a triumph. He has now a confcioufnefs of fome
worth in himfelf. He afiTumes a fviperiority over thofe who are
not fo wife ; and pays refpedl to thole who are wifer than himfelf.
He attempts fomething elfe, and is every day reaping new laurels.

As children grow up, they are delighted with tales, with childifh
games, with defigns and ftratagems : Every thing of this kind ftores
the fancy with a new regular train of thought, which becomes fa-
miliar

b

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 417

miliar by repetition, fo that one part draws the whole after it in chap, iv.
the imagination.

The imagination of a child, like the hand of a painter, is long
employed in copying the works of others, before it attempts any
invention of its own.

The power of invention is not yet brought forth, but it is co-
ming forward, and, like the bud of a tree, is ready to burfl its
integuments, when fome accident aids its eruption.

There is no power of the underftanding that gives fo much plea-
fure to the owner as that of invention ; whether it be employed
in mechanics, in fcience, in the conduct of life, in poetry, in wit, or
in the fine arts. One who is confcious of it, acquires thereby a worth
and importance in his own eye which he had not before. He
looks upon himfelf as one who formerly lived upon the bounty and
gratuity of others, but who has now acquired fome property of
his own. When this power begins to be felt in the young mind,
it has the grace of novelty added to its other charms, and, like the
youngeft child of the family, is carefTed beyond all the reft.

We may be fure, therefore, that as foon as children are confci-
ous of this power, they will exercife it in fuch ways as are fuited
to their age, and to the objecls they are employed about. This
gives rife to innumerable new aflbciations, and regular trains of
thought, which make the deeper imprefllon upon the mind, as'
they are its exclufive property.

I am aware that the power of invention is diftributed among
men more unequally than almoft any other. When it is able to
produce any thing that is interefting to mankind, we call it genius;
a talent which is the lot of very few. But there is perhaps a lower
kind, or lower degree of invention that is more common. How-
ever this may be, it muft be allowed, that the power of invention

Ggg in

4i8 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. IV. jn thofe who- have it, will produce many new regular trains of
thought ; and thefe being exprelTed in works of arc, in writing,
or in difcourfe, will be copied by others.

Thus I conceive the minds of children, as foon as they have
judgment to diflinguifh what is regular, orderly, and conned\ed,
from a mere medley of thought, are furniflied with regular trains
of thinking by thefe means.

Firjt and chiefly, by copying what they fee in the works and
in the difcourfe of others. Man is the mod imitative of all ani-
mals ; he not only imitates with intention, and purpofely, what he
thinks has any grace or beauty, but even without intention, he is
led by a kind of inftin(5t, which it is difficult to refift, into the
modes of fpeaking, thinking, and acting, which he has been ac-
cuftomed to fee in his early years. The more children fee of what
is regular and beautiful in what is prefented to them, the more
they are led to obferve and to imitate it.

This is the chief part of their ftock, and defcends to them by a
kind of tradition from thofe who came before them ; and we fliall
find, that the fancy of mod men is furniflied from thofe they have
converfed with, as well as their religion, language, and manners.

Secondly^ By the additions or innovations that are properly their
own, thefe will be greater or lefs, in proportion to their ftudy and
invention ; but in the bulk of mankind are not very confiderable.

Every profeffion, and every rank in life, has a manner of think-
ing, and turn of fancy that is proper to it ; by which it is charac-
terifed in comedies and works of humour. The bulk of men of
the fame nation, of the fame rank, and of the fame occupation,
are call as it were in the fame mould. This mould itfelf changes
gradually, but flowly, by new inventions, by intercourfe with
llrangers, or by other accidents.

The

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 419

The condition of man requires a longer infancy and youth than CHAP, iv.
that of other animals j for this reafon among others, that almoft
every llation in civil fociety requires a multitude of regular trains
of thought, to be not only acquired, but to be made fo familiar
by frequent repetition, as to prefent themfelves fpontaneoufly,
when there is occafion for them.

The imagination even of men of good parts never ferves them
readily but in things wherein it has been much exercifed. A Mi-
nifter of State holds a conference with a foreign AmbafTador, with
no greater emotion than a Profeflbr in a college preledts to his au-
dience. The imagination of each prefents to him what the occa-
fion requires to be faid, and how. Let them change places, and
both would find themfelves at a lofs.

] ;The habits which the human mind is capable of acquiring by
exercife are wonderful in many inflances ; in none more wonder-
ful, than in that verfatility of imagination which a well bred man
acquires, by being much exercifed in the various fcenes of life.
In the morning he vifits a friend in afflidlion. Here his imagina-
tion brings forth from its ftore every topic of confolation j every
thing that is agreeable to the laws of friendfliip and fympathy, and
nothing that is not fo. From thence he drives to the Miuifter's
levee, where imagination readily fuggefls what is proper to be faid
or replied to every man, and in what manner, according to the
degree of acquaintance or familiarity, of rank or dependence, of
oppofition or concurrence of interells, of confidence or diflruft,
that is between them. Nor does all this employment hinder him
from carrying on fome defign with much artifice, and endeavour-
ing to penetrate into the views of others through the clofefl: dif-
guifes. From the levee he goes to the Houfe of Commons, and
fpeaks upon the affairs of the nation ; from thence to a ball or
aflembly, and entertains the ladies. His imagination puts on the
friend, the courtier, the patriot, the fine gentleman, with more
eafe than we put off one fuit and put on another.

G g g 2 This

420 ESSAY IV.

CHAP. IV,
V .. '

Tlus is the cffe(5k of training and exercife. For a mail of €q«al
parts and knowledge, but unaccuftomed to thofe fcenes of public
life, is quite difconcerted when firfl: brought into them. His
thoughts are put to flight, and he cannot rally them.

There are feats of imagination to be learned by application and
pradlice, as wonderful as the feats of balancers and rope-dancers,
and often as ufelcfs.

"When a man can make a hundred verfes (landing on one foot,
or play three or four games at chefs at the fame time without fee-
ing the board, it is probable he hath fpent his life in acquiring
fuch a feat. However, fuch unufual phaenomena fliew what ha-
bits of imagination may be acquired.

When fuch habits are acquired and perfedled, they are exercifed
without any laborious effoi't ; like the habit of playing upon an in-
ftrument of mufic. There are innumerable motions of the fingers
upon the ftops or keys, which muft be dire<ft:ed in one particular
train or fucceflion. There is only one arrangement of thofe mo-
tions that is right, while there are ten thoufand that are wrong,
and would fpoil the mufic. The Mufician thinks not in the lead
of the arrangement of thofe morions ; he has a diftin^Sl idea of the
tune, and wills to play it. The motions of the fingers arrange
themfelves, fo as to anfwer his intention.

In like manner, when a man fpeaks upon a fubjedl with which
he is acquainted, there is a certain arrangement of his thoughts
and words neceflary to make his difcourfe lenfible, pertinent, and
grammatical. In every fentence, there are more rules of gram-
mar, logic, and rhetoric, that may be tranfgrefled, than there are
words and letters. He fpeaks without thinking of any of thofe
rules, and yet obferves them all, as if they were all in his eye.

This is a habit fo fimilar to that of a player on an inftrument,

that

- OF THE TRAIN :0F THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 4?i.

Aac Ithmk bw^h thuftbe got in the •.:feine way, itJwit i&^iby muck p^Af, iv.
pi-a(3:ice, and db-e ^wwer of iiabit. ; axij sisriw 9Dtorf> hns 3;

When a man fpeaks well and methodically upon a fubje<5l with-
out fludy, anii with perfect eafe, I believe we may take it for grant-
ed that his thouglits run in a beaten track. There is a moiikl in
his mind, which has been foo-mcd by much pradlice, or by ftudy,
for this very fubjed, or for fbme other fo fimilar aad analogous j
that his difcourfe falls into this mould with eafe, and takes its
form from it.

iadl 0 r69 rtBf.:

Hitherto av6 feave confidered the opferatiohs of fancy that are
either fporitahcous, or at leafl require no laborious tfibrt to guide
and diretfl them, aiid have emleavoured to account for that degree
of regulariry and arrangement which is found even in them. The
natural powers of judgment and invention, the pleafure that al-
ways attends the exercife of thofe powers, the means v^e have of
improving thenl by imitation of others, and the effecl of pradlice
and habits, feems to me fufficiently to account for this phaenome-
non, without fuppofing any unaccountable attractions of ideas by
which they arrange themieJves.

But vve are able to dire<^ our tbcmghts in a certain courfe fo as
to perform a deftined taflc.

Every work of art- has its m-odcl franked in^he imagination. Here
the IHad 'of Homer, the Republic of Plato, the Principia of
'NE'\yTON, were fabricated. Shall we believe, that thofe works
took the form in which they now appear of themfelves ? That the
fentinients, the manners, and the paffions arranged themfelves at
once in the mind of Homer, fo as to form the Iliad ? Was there '
no more effort in the compofition, than there is in telling a well-
known tale, or fmging a favourite fong ? This cannot be believed.

Cranting that fume happy thought firft fuggefted the defign of

fmging

4^2 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. ly^ finging the wrath of Achilles; yet, furely, it was a matter of
judgment and choice where the narration fhould begin, and where
it fliould end.

_ r , •

Granting that the fertility of the Poet's imagination fuggefted
a. variety of rich materials ; was not judgment neceflary to feledl
what was proper, to rejecS what was improper, to arrange the ma-
terials into a juft compofition, and to adapt them to each other,
and to the defign of the whole ?

No man can believe that Homer's ideas, merely by certain fym-
pathies and antipathies, by certain attractions and repulfions in-
herent in their natures, arranged themfelves accoixling to the moft
perfedl rules of Epic poetry; and Newton's, according to the
rules of mathematical compofition.

,aobr .

I fhould fooner believe that the Poet, after he invoked his Muf'e,
did nothing at all but liften to the fong of the goddefs. Poets in-
deed, and other artifls, mufl make their works appear natural ;
but nature is the perfedlion of art, and there can be no juft imi-
tation of nature without art: When ,the building isfinilhed, the
rubbifh, the fcafFolds, the tools and engfnes, are carried out of
fight; but we know it could not have been reared without them.

The train of thinking, therefore, is capable of being guided and
dire6led, much in the fame manner' as the horfe we ride. The horfe
has his ftrength, his agility, and his mettle in himfelf ; he has
been taught certain movements, and many ufeful habits that make
him more fubfervient to our purpofes, and obedient to our will ;
but to accomplifh a journey, he muft be diredled by the rider.

In like manner fancy has its original powers, which are very

different in diflferent perfons ; it has likewife more regular motions,

to which it has been trained by a long courfe of difcipline and ex-

^crcife; and by which it may extempore y and without much effort,

!.'•:.: produce

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 423

produce things that have; a cojifiderable degree df fceauty,iif:?gula- CHAP.iv.
rity, and defign. irt -

But the mofl perfedl works of defign are never extemporary. Our
fir ft thoughts are reviewed ; we place them at a proper di fiance ;
examine every part, and take a complex view of the; whole: By
our critical faculties, we perceive this part to be, redundant, that
deficient ; here is a want of nerves, there a want of delicacy ; this
is obfcure, that too difFufe : Things are marihalled anew, according
to a fecond and more deliberate judgment ; what was deficie^nt, is
fupplied; what .was diilocated, is put iil joint ; redundances ar«
lopped oflf, and the ;whole polilhed.

- Though Poets ofallartifts make! the high'eft claim to infpiration,
yet if we believe Horace, a competent judge, no produdion in
that art can have mait, which has not cottX^li.Mbpur as thiftjn
the birth. 'a '>T;r-r. :=':''

:ni;jllai 30ixh :

{ -gnhd n; rifTpJ Q ■':
■ Pompilius fanguis^ carmen reprehendite quod non
Multa dies, et multa Utura cacrcuity atque
PerfeElum decies non caJligav'U ad unguem.
. , :.• •; :: . ;-...-,ih ,k[; : \ ;, ■. : :

The conclufibn I would dfaw 'from all that has been faid upon
this fubjedl is. That every thing thaf is regular in that train of
thought, which we call fancy or imagination, from the little de-
figns and reveries of children, to the grandeft produ6lions of human
genius, was originally the oflTspring of judgment or tafle, applied
with fome eflfort greater or lefs. What one perfon compofed with
art and judgmem, is imitated by another with great eafe. What
<d, man himfelf at firft compofed with pains, becomes by habit fo
familiar, as to ofFer itfelf fpontaneoufly to his fancy afterwards :
But nothing that is regular, was ever at firfl: conceived, without
defign, attention, and care.

■V-

424 - ESSAY IV.

CHAP. IV.^ I jj^aii now make a few refle€lions upon a theory which has
been applied to account for this fucceffive train of thought in the
mind. It was hinted by Mr Hobbes, but has drawn more atten-
tion ftnce it was diftindly explained by Mr Hume.

.,-:;t. '■ •. •, ,...•:• .; ■ i: ;..:'■...,, ^ ,

That autI>or thinks that the train of. thought in the mind is
owing to a kind of attradlion which ideas have for other ideas that
beai" certain relations to them. He thinks the complex ideas,
which are the common ftvbjedt& of our thoughts and reafoniug,
are owing to the fame ca^fe, Thd' relatimis. which produce this
attra€lioi> of i<;tea&, he thinks^ 'ard thefe three only, to wit, caufa-
tion, contiguity in time or place, and fimilitude. He afTerts that
thefe are the only general principles that unite ideas. And having,
in anotlijer- place, occafion to take' notice of contrai-iety as a prin-
ciple of conftfe(5tion among ideajSj in ordier to J reconcile this to his
fyflrem', he'tel'ls u6'-^ifavely,:t4at Contrariety may perliaps be, con-
fidered as a mixture of caufation and referablance. That ideas
which have any of thefe three relations do mutually attradl each
other, fo that one ef them being prefented to the fancy, the other
is drawn along with' it, tlvis hs'feems to think an original property
of the mind, or rather of the icteas, and therefore inexplicable.

Fir/}, I obferve with regard to this theory, that although it is
ti-viQ that the thought of any iibjeiftLii-. 'apt?/ tbnlead us to the
thought of its caufe or efFedl; of things contiguous, to it in time
or place,- or of things refembling it, yet this enumeration of the
relations of things which are apt to lead us from one object to
another, is very inaccurate.

The enumeration- it} too large" Uipton his. own principles ; but it
M by far too fcanty in reality. Caufation, according to his phi-,
lofophy, implies nothing more than a conftant conjun(5tion ob-
ierved between the caufe and the efFcdl, and therefore contiguity
mufl: include caufation, and his three principles of attradion are
reduced to two.

But

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 425

But when we take all the three, the enumeration is in reaUty CHAP. iv.
very incomplete. Every relation of things has a tendency, more
or lefs, to lead the thought, in a thinking mind, from one to the
other ; and not only every relation, but every kind of contrariety
and oppofition. What Mr Hume fays, that contrariety may per-
haps be confidered as a mixture " of caufation and refemblance,"
I can as little comprehend as if he had faid that figure may per-
haps be confidered as a mixture of colour and found.

Our thoughts pafs eafily from the end to the means ; from any
truth to the evidence on which it is founded, the confequences
that may be drawn from it, or the ufe that may be made of it.
From a part we are eafily led to think of the whole, from a fub-
jedl to its qualities, or from things related to the relation. Such
tranfitions in thinking muft have been made thoufands of times
by every man who thinks and reafons, and thereby become, as it
were, beaten tracks for the imagination.

Not only the relations of objedls to each other influence our
train of thinking, but the relation they bear to the prefent temper
and difpofition of the mind ; their relation to the habits we have
acquired, whether moral or intelledlual ; to the company we have
kept, and to the bufinefs in which we have been chiefly -employed.
The fame event will fugged very different reflexions to different
perfons, and to the fame perfon at different times, according as
he is in good or bad humour, as he is lively or dull, angry or
pleafed, melancholy or cheerful.

Lord Kames, in his Elements of Crlticifm, and Dr Gerard
in his EfTay on Genius, have given a much fuller and jufter enu-
meration of the caufes that influence our train of thinking, and
I have nothing to add to what they have faid on this fubjedl.

Secondly, Let us confider how far this attradlon of ideas mufl
be refolved into original qualities of human nature,

Hhh I

426 E S S A Y IV.

^^^■^' ^^'' ^ believe the original principles of the mind, of which we can
give no account, but that fuch is our conflitution, are more in
number than is commonly thought. But we ought not to mul-
tiply them without neceflity.

That trains of thinking, which by frequent repetition have be-
come familiar, Ihould fpontaneoufly offer themfelves to our fancy,
feems to require no other original quality but the power of habit.

In all rational thinking, and in all rational difcourfe, whether
ferious or facetious, the thought mufl have fome relation to what
went before. Every man, therefore, from the dawn of reafon,
muft have been accuftomed to a train of related objeds. Thefe
pleafe the underflanding, and by cuftom become like beaten tracks
which invite the traveller.

As far as it is in our power to give a dire«5lion to our thoughts,
which it is undoubtedly in a great degree, they will be direded.
by the adlive principles common to men, by our appetites, our
paffions, our affe<5lions, our reafon, and confcience. And that
the trains of thinking in our minds are chiefly governed by thefe,
according as one or another prevails at the time, every man will
find in his experience.

If the mind is at any time vacant from every pafllon and defire,
there are ftill fome objects that are more acceptable to us than
others. The facetious man is pleafed with furpriling fimilitudes
or contrails ; the Philofopher with the relations of things that are
fubfervient to reafoning ; the Merchant with what tends to profit ;
and the Politician with what may mend the (late.

A good writer of comedy or romance can feign a train of think-
ing for any of the pcrfons of his fable, which appears very natu-
ral, and is approved by the bed judges. Now, what is it that en-
titles fuch a ficflion to approbation ? Is it that the author has given
a nice attention to the relations of caufation, contiguity, and fimi-

litude

OF THE TRAIN OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 427

litude in the ideas ? This furely is the leaft part of its merit. But
the chief part confifts in this, that it correfponds perfedly with
the general charadler, the rank, the habits, the prefent fituation
and paflions of the perfon. If this be a juft way of judging in
criticifm, it follows neceflarily, that the circumftances laft men-
tioned have the chief influence in fuggefting our trains of thought.

It cannot be denied, that the ftate of the body has an influence
upon our imagination, according as a man is fober or drunk, as
he is fatigued or refreflied. Crudities and indigeflion are faid to
give uneafy dreams, and have probably a like efFed upon the
waking thoughts. Opium gives to fome perfons pleafing dreams,
and pleafing imaginations when awake, and to others fuch as are
horrible and diftrefling.

Thefe influences of the body upon the mind can only be known
by experience, and I believe we can give no account of them.

Nor can we, perhaps, give any reafon why we muft think with-
out ceafing while we are awake. I believe we are likewife ori-
ginally difpofed, in imagination, to pafs from any one objecfl of
thought to others that are contiguous to it in time or place. This,
I think, may be obferved in brutes and in idiots, as well as in
children, before any habit can be acquired that might account for
ic. The fight of an objedl is apt to fuggeft to the imagination
what has been feen or felt in conjundion with it, even when the
memory of that conjunction is gone.

Such conjunctions of things influence not only the imagination,
but the belief and the paflions, efpecially in children and in
brutes j and perhaps all that we call memory in brutes is fome-
thing of this kind.

They expeifl events in the fame order and fucceflion in which
they happened before ; and by this expectation, their aCtions and
paflions, as well as their thoughts, are regulated. A horfe takes

H h h 2 fright

CHAP. IV.
V ^ '

428 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. IV. fright at the place where fome objedl frighted him before* We are
apt to conchide from this, that he remembers the former accident.
But perhaps there is only an aflbciation formed in his mind between
the place and the paffion of fear, without any diftincfl remembrance.

Mr Locke has given us a very good chapter upon the alTocia-
tion of ideas ; and by the examples he has given to illuftrate this
dodlrine, I think it appears that very ftrong affociations may be
formed at once ; not of ideas to ideas only, but of ideas to paf-
lions and emotions ; and that ftrong affociations are never formed
at once, but when accompanied by fome ftrong paffion or emotion.
I believe this muft be refolved into the conftitution of our nature.

Mr Hume's opinion, that the complex ideas, which are the com-
mon objedls of difcourfe and reafoning, are formed by thofe ori-
ginal attradlions of ideas, to which he afcribes the train of thoughts
in the mind, will come under confideration in another place.

To put an end to our remarks upon this theory of Mr Hume,
I think he has real merit in bringing this curious fubjedl under
the view of Philofophers, and carrying it a certain length. But I
fee nothing in this theory that fhould hinder us to conclude, that
every thing in the trains of our thought, which bears the marks
of judgment and reafon, has been the produd of judgment and
reafon previoufly exercifed, either by the perfon himfelf, at that
or fome former time, or by fome other perfon. The attraction of
ideas will be the fame in a man's fccond thoughts upon any fubjedl
as in his firft. Or if fome change in his circumftances, or in the
objedls about him, fhould make any change in the attracftions of
his ideas, it is an equal chance whether the fecond be better than
the firft, or whether they be worfe. But it is certain that every
man of judgment and tafte will, upon a review, correcSl that train
of thought which firft prefented itfelf. If the attradlions of ideas
are the fole caufes of the regular arrangement of thought in the
fancy, there is no ufe for judgment or tafte in any compofition,
nor indeed any room for their operation.

There

OF THE TRAIN. OF THOUGHT IN THE MIND. 429

■ 1.1*'
There are other refledlions of a more pradlical nature, and of CHAp. iv^^
higher importance, to which this fubjed leads. -""""^

I believe it will be allowed by every man, that our happinefs or
mlfery in life, that our improvement in any arj: or fcier^qe which
we profefs, and that our improvement in jeaT virtue and' coodnefs/
depend .m a very great degree on the train of thinking, 'that occu-
pies the mind both in our vacant and in our more' ferious hours,'
As far therefore as the diredlion of our thoughts is in our povver,'
(and that it is fo.in a. great meafure, cannot be doubted) it is of
the laft importance to give then) that diredion. which is moft fub-

fervient to .thole Valuabk pnr^joies:';'' '''/' ^';^ ^^ "'^'"^^ -i^diii: dnw
,:;:..... ;.,;.v i 'jc'.i [[;: torn h^inarjl ii 'A g^xna

What'ettlt)lfcy'itfefiF(['in bTtiWwonhj c^r i'^^, "e^R'6re''ihTagr3
nation is occupied only about things low and bafe, and grovels itt'
a narrow field of mean unanimating and uninterefting objeds, ifi-^
fenfible to thofe finer and more delicate fentimentSj and blinci-
to thofe more enlarged and nobler views which elevate the foul,
and make it confcious of its dignity.

How different from Him, whofe imagination, Hkcan eagle in her
flighty takes a wide profpedl, and obferves whatever it prefents, that
is new or beautiful, grand or important ; whofe rapid vising varies
the fcene every moment, carrying him fometimes through the fairy
regions of wit and fancy, fometimes through the more regular and.
fober walks of fcience and philofophy.

The various objeds which he furveys, according to their dlfTer-
cnt degrees of beauty and dignity, raife in him the lively and-
agreeable emotions of tafle^ Illuftrious human charaders, as they
pafs in. review, clothed with their moral qualities, touch his heart,
fllll more deeply. They riot, only awaken the fenfe of beauty, hue,
excite the fentiment of approbation, and kindle the glow of virtue.

While he views what is truly, great, and glorious in human con-,
dud, his foul catches the divine flame, and burns with defire to.
eniulate what it admires.

The-

430 E S S A Y IV.

CHAP. IV^ The human imagination is an ample theatre, upon which every
thing in human life, good or bad, great or mean, laudable or
bafc, is aded.

In children, and in fome frivolous minds, it is a mere toy-fliop.
And in fome, who exercife their memory without their judgment,
its furniture is made up of old fcraps of knowledge, that are
thread-bare and worn out.

In fome, this theatre is often occupied by ghaftly fuperftition,
with all her train of Gorgons, and Hydras^ and Chimeras dire. Some-
times it is haunted with all the infernal demons, and made the
forge of plots, and rapine, and murder. Here every thing that is
black and deteftable is firft contrived, and a thoufand wicked de-
figns conceived that are never executed. Here, too, the Furies adl
their part, taking a fevere though fecret vengeance upon the felf-
condemned criminal.

How happy is that mind, in which the light of real knowledge
difpels the phantoms of fuperftition : In which the belief and re-
verence of a perfect all-governing Mind cafts out all fear but the
fear of adling wrong : In which ferenity and cheerfulnefs, inno-
cence, humanity, and candour, guard the imagination againft the
entrance of every unhallowed intruder, and invite more amiable
and worthier guefts to dwell !

There fliall the Mufes, the Graces, and the Virtues, fix their abode;
for every thing that is great and worthy in human condudl mud
have been conceived in the imagination before it was brought in-
to a<5t. And many great and good defigns have been formed there,
which, for want of power and opportunity, have proved abortive.

The man, whofe imagination is occupied by thefe guefts, muft
be wife ; he muft be good ; and he muft be happy.

ESSAY

431

CHAP. I.

ESSAY V.

O F A B S T R A C T I O N.

CHAP. I.

Of General Words,

THE words we ufe in language are either general wortls, or
proper names. Proper names are intended to fignify one in-
dividual only. Such are the names of men, kingdoms, provinces,
cities, rivers, and of every other creature of God, or work of man,
which we chufe to diftingui(h from all others of the kind, by a
name appropriated to it. All the other words of language are ge-
neral words, not appropriated to fignify any one individual thing,
but equally related to many.

Under general words therefore, I comprehend not only thofe
which Logicians call general terms, that is, fuch general words as
may make the fubjedl or the predicate of a propofition, but like-
wife their auxiliaries or acceflbries, as the learned Mr Harris calls
them ; fuch as prepofitions, conjunctions, articles, which are all
general words, though they cannot properly be called general terms.

In every language, rude or polifhed, general words make the
greateft: part, and proper names the leaft. Grammarians have re-
duced all words to eight or nine clalTes, which are called pares of
fpeech. Of thefe there is only one, to wit, that of nouns^ wherein

proper

432 ESSAY V.

CHAP. J.^ proper names are found. All pronouns^ verbs, participlesy adverbs^ ar-
ticles, prepojitions, cotijtinElions , and interje&ions, are general words. Of
nouns, all adjeElives are general words, and the greater part oi fub-
Jlantives. Every fubftantive that has a plural number, is a general
word ; for no proper name can have a plural number, becaufe it
fignifies only one individual. In all the fifteen books of Euclid's
Elements, there is not one word that is not general ; and the fame
may be faid of many large volumes.

At the fame time it mufl be acknowledged, that all the objedls
we perceive are individuals. Every objcdl of fenfe, of memory, or
of confcioufnefs, is an individual obje(5l. All the good things we
enjoy or defire, and all the evils we feel or fear, mufl come from
individuals ; and I think we may venture to fay, that every crea-
ture which God has made, in the heavens above, or in the earth
beneath^ or in the waters under the earth, is an individual.

How comes it to pafs then, that in all languages general words
make the greatcfl part of the language, and proper names but a
^rery fmall and inconfiderable part of it ?

.TTMs feemingly ftrange phsenomfinon rttay^ I think, be eafily ac-
counted for by the following obfervations.

Firjl, Though there be a few individuals that are obvious to the
notice of all men, and therefore have proper names in all languages ;
fuch as the fun and moon, the earth and fea ; yet the greateft part
of the things to which we think fit to give proper names are local j
known perhaps to a village or to a neighbourhood, but unknown
to the greater part of thofe who fpeak the fame language, and to
all the reft of mankind. The names of fuch things being confined
to a corner, and having no names anfwering to them in other lan-
■guages, are not accounted a part of the language, any more than
the cuftoms of a particular hamlet are accounted part of the law
of the nation.

For

OF GENERAL WORDS.

433

For this reafon, there are but few proper names that belong to ^CHAP. i.
a language. It is next to be confidered why there mull be many-
general words in every language.

Secondly, It may be obferved, that every individual obje(5l that
falls within our view has various attributes ; and it is by them that
it becomes ufeful or hurtful to us : We know not the eflence of
any individual objecfl ; all the knowledge we can attain of it, is
the knowledge of its attributes ; its quantity, its various qualities,
its various relations to other things, its place, its fituation, and
morions. It is by fuch attributes of things only that we can com-
mvmicate our knowledge of them to others : By their attributes,
our hopes or fears from them are regulated ; and it is only by at-
tention to their attribvites that we can make them fubfervient to
our ends ; and therefore we give names to fuch attributes.

Now all attributes muft from their nature be exprefled by general
words, and are fo exprefled in all languages. In the ancient philo-
fophy, attributes in general were called by two names which ex-
prefs their nature. They were called univerfals, becaufe they might
belong equally to many individuals, and are not confined to one :
They were alfo called predicables, becaufe whatever is predicated,
that is, aflSrmed or denied of one fubjecl, may be, of more, and
therefore is an univerfal, and exprefled by a general word. A pre-
dicable therefore fignifies the fame thing as an attribute, with this
difference only, that the firft is Latin, the lafl: Englifli. The attri-
butes we find either in the creatures of God, or in the works of
men, are common to many individuals : We either find it to be
fo, or prefume it may be fo, and give them the fame name in every
fubje(fl to which they belong.

There are not only attributes belonging to individual fubjedts, but
there are likewife attributes of attributes, which may be called fecon-
dary attributes. Moft attributes are capable of different degrees, and
different modifications, which muft be exprefled by general words.

I i i Thus

434

ESSAY V.

CHAP. I. Thus ic is an attribute of many bodies to be moved ; but motion

may be in an endlefs variety of diredlions. It may be quick or
flow, redlilineal or curvilineal ; it may be equable, or accelerated,
or retarded.

As all attributes, therefore, vphether primary or fecondary, arc
exprefled by general words, it follows, that in every proportion we
exprefs in language, what is affirmed or denied of the fubje(5l of
the propofition mufl be exprefled by general words : And that the
fubjed of the propofition may often be a general word, will appear
from the next obfervation.

T'hirdiyi The fame faculties by which we diftinguiflx the
different attributes belonging to the fame fubjedt, and give names
to them, enable us likewife to obferve, that many fubje(5ts agree
in certain attributes, while they differ in others. By this means
we are enabled to reduce individuals which are infinite, to a li-
mited number of clafTes, which are called kinds and forts; and in
the fcholaftic language, genera znd fpecies.

Obferving many individuals to agree in certain attributes, we
refer them all to one clafs, and give a name to the clafs : This name
comprehends in its fignification not one attribute only, but all the
attributes which diftinguifh that clafs ; and by aifirming this name
of any individual, we affirm it to have all the attributes which cha-
raderize the clafs : Thus men, dogs, horfes, elephants, are fo many
different clafTes of animals. In like manner we marfhal other fub-
ftances, vegetable and inanimate, into clafles.

Nor is it only fubftances that we thus form into clafTes. We do
the fame with regard to qualities, relations, adions, affedions,
paffions, and all other things.

When a clafs is very large, it is divided into fubordinate clafTes
in the fame manner. The higher clafs is called a genus or kind j

the

OF GENERAL WORDS.

435

the lower 9. /pedes or fort of the higher : Sometimes a fpecies is ftill P^^;^
fubdivided into fubordinate fpecies; and this fubdivifion is carried
on as far as is found convenient for the purpofe of language, or
for the improvement of knowledge.

In this diflrlbution of things into genera and fpecies^ it is evi-
dent that the name of the fpecies comprehends more attributes than
the name of the genus. The fpecies comprehends all that is in the
genus, and thofe attributes likewife which diftinguifh that fpecies
from others belonging to the fame genus ; and the more fubdivi- -
fions we make, the names of the lower become ftill the more com-
prehenfive in their fignification, but the lefs extenfive in their ap-
plication to individuals.

Hence it is an axiom in logic, that the more extenfive any ge-
neral term is, it is the lefs comprehenfive ; and on the contrary,
the more comprehenfive, the lefs extenfive : Thus, in the following
feries of fubordinate general terms, animal, man. Frenchman, Pa-
rifian, every fubfequent term comprehends in its fignification all
that is in the preceding, and fomething more ; and every antece-
dent term extends to more individuals than the fubfequent.

Such divifions and fubdivifions of things into genera and /pedes
with general names, are not confined to the learned and polilhed
languages ; they are found in thofe of the rudeft tribes of man-
kind : From which we learn, that the invention and the ufe of ge-
neral words, both to fignify the attributes of things, and to fignify
the genera znd /peciet of things, is not a fubtile invention of Philo-
fophers, but an operation which all men perform by the light of
common fenfe. Philofophers may fpeculate about this operation,
and reduce it to canons and aphorifms ; but men of common un-
derftanding, without knowing any thing of the philofophy of it,
can put it in practice; in like manner as they can fee objeds, and
make good ufe of their eyes, although they know nothing of the
ftrudlure of the eye, or of the theory of vifion.

I i i 2 Every

43^ E S S A Y V.

CHAP. I.
V ,, 1

Evqry genus, and every fpecies of things, may be either the fub-
jedl or the predicate of a proportion, nay of innumerable propofi-
tions; for every attribute common to the genus or fpecies may be
affirmed of it j and the genus may be affirmed of every fpecies,
and both genus and fpecies of every individual to which it extends.

Thus of man it may be affirmed, that he is an animal made up
of body and mind ; that he is of few days, and full of trouble ;
that he is capable of various Improvements in arts, in knowledge,
and in virtue. In a word, every thing common to the fpecies may
be affirmed of man ; and of all fuch propofitions, which are innu-
merable, man is the fubje(5l.

Again, of every nation and tribe, and of every individual of
the human race that is, or was, or (hall be, it may be affirmed that
they are men. In all fuch propofitions, which are innumerable^
man is the predicate of the propofition.

"We obferved above an extenfion and a comprehenfion in gene-
ral terms ; and that in any fubdivifion of things the name of the
lowed fpecies is moft comprehenfive, and that of the highefl: ge-
nus moil extenfive. I would now obferve, that, by means of fuch
general terms, there is alfo an extenfion and comprehenfion of pro-
pofitions, which is one of the nobleft powers of language, and fits
it for expreffing, with great eafe and expedition, the higheft attain-
ments in knowledge, of which the human underftanding is capable.

When the predicate is a genus or a^ecies, the propofition is more
or lefs comprehenfive, according as the predicate is. Thus, when
I fay that this feal is gold, by this fingle propofition, I affirm of it
all the properties which that metal is known to have. When I fay
of any man that he is a Mathematician, this appellation compre-
hends all the attributes that belong to him as an animal, as a man,
and as one who has ftudied mathematics. When I fay that the or-
bit of the planet Mercury is an ellipfis, I thereby affirm of that or-
bit

. O F G E N E R A L W O R D S. 437

bit all the properties which Apollonius and other Geometricians , chap. I.
have difcovered, or may difcover, of that fpecies of figure.

Again, when the fubjedl of a propofition is a genus or z. fpecies^.
the propofition is more or lefs extenfive, according as the fubje<5l is.
Thus when I am taught, that the three angles of a plane triangle
are equal to two right angles, this properly extends to every fpecies
of plane triangle, and to every individual plane triangle that did,
or docs, or can exifl.

It is by means of fuch extenfive and comprehenfive propofitions
that human knowledge is condenfed, as it were, into a fize adapt-
ed to the capacity of the human mind, with great addition to its
beauty, and without any diminution of its diftin(5tnefs and per-
fpicuity.

General propofitions in fcience may be compared to the feed of
a plant, which, according to fome Philofophers, has not only the
whole future plant inclofed within it, but the feeds of that plant,
and the plants that fliall fpring from them through all future ge-
nerations.

But the fimilitude falls fhort in this refpedl, that time and acci-
dents, not in our power, mufl concur to difclofe the contents of
the feed, and bring them into our view ; whereas the contents of a
general propofition may be brought forth, ripened, and expofed to
view at our pleafure, and in an inftant.

Thus the wifdom of ages, and the moft fublime theorems of
fcience, may be laid up, like an Iliad in a nut-£hell, and tranfmit-
ted to future generations. And this noble purpofe of language
can only be accompliihed, by means of general words annexed to
the divifions and fubdivifions of things.

What has been did in this chaptei , I think, is fufficient to fliew,.

that

438 E S S A Y V.

CHAP, i.^ that there can be no language, not fo much as a Cngle propofition,

without general words ; that they muft make the greatefl part of

every language, and that it is by them only that language is fitted

• to exprefs, with wonderful eafe and expedition, all the treafures of

human wifdom and knowledge.

CHAP. II.

Of general Conceptions,

AS general words are fo neceflary in language, it is natural to
conclude that there muft be general conceptions, of which
they are the figns.

Words are empty founds when they do not fignify the thoughts
of the fpeaker ; and it is only from their fignification that they are
denominated general. Every word that is fpoken, confidered
merely as a found, is an individual found. And it can only be
called a general word, becaufe that which it fignifies is general.
Now, that which it fignifies, is conceived by the mind both of the
fpeaker and hearer, if the word have a diftinift meaning, and be
diftindtly underftood. It is therefore impoffible that words can
have a general fignification, unlefs there be conceptions in the
mind of the fpeaker, and of the hearer, of things that are general.
It is to fuch that I give the name of general conceptions : And it
ought to be obferved, that they take this denomination, not from
the a(5l of the mind in conceiving, which is an individual adl, but
from the object, or thing conceived, which is general.

We are therefore here to confider whether we have fuch general
conceptions, and how they are formed.

To begin with the conceptions expreflcd by general terms, that

is,

OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 439

is, by fuch general words as may be the fubje<5l or the predicate CHAr. ir.
of a propofition. They are either attributes of things, or they are
genera or f pedes of things.

It is evident, with refpecfl to all the individuals we are ac-
quainted with, that we have a more clear and diftinft conception
of their attributes, than of the fubjed to which thofe attributes
belong.

Take, for inflance, any individual body we have accefs to know,
what conception do w^e form of it ? Every man may know this
from his confcioufnefs. He will find that he conceives it as a
thing that has length, breadth, and thicknefs, fuch a figure, and
fuch a colour ; that it is hard, or foft, or fluid ; that it has fuch
qualities, and is fit for fuch purpofes. If it is a vegetable, he may
know where it grew, what is the form of its leaves, and flower, and
feed. If an animal, what are its natural inftinds, its manner of
life, and of rearing its young : Of thefe attributes belonging to
this individual, and numberlefs others, he may furely have a
diftindl conception ; and he will find words in language by which
he can clearly and diftindlly exprefs each of them.

If we confider, in like manner, the conception we form of any
individual perfon of our acquaintance, we fliall find it to be made
up of various attributes, which we afcrlbe to him ; fuch as, that
he is the fon of fuch a man, the brother of fuch another, that he
has fuch an employment or office, has fuch a fortune, that he
is tall or fliort, well or ill made, comely or ill favoured, young or
old, married or unmarried ; to this we may add, his temper,
his charatfter, his abilities, and perhaps fome anecdotes of his
fajftory.

Such is the conception we form of individual perfons of our ac-
quaintance. By fuch attributes we defcribe them to thofe who know
them not ; and by fuch attributes Hiftorians give us a conception

of

44°

ESSAY V.

CHAP. II. of the perfonages of former times. Nor is it poflible to do it in
any other way.

All the diflindl knowledge we have or can attain of any indi-
vidual, is the knowledge of its attributes : For we know not the
eflence of afty individual. This feems to be beyond the reach of
the human faculties.

Now, every attribute is what the ancients called an univerfal.
It is, or may be, common to various individuals. There is no
attribute belonging to any creature of God which may not belong
toothers; and, on this account, attributes, in all languages, are
exprefled by general words.

It appears likewife, from every man's experience, that he may
have as clear and diftindl a conception of fuch attributes as we
have named, and of innumerable others, as he can have of any
individual to which they belong.

Indeed, the attributes of individuals is all that we diftindlly
conceive about them. It is true, we conceive a fubjedl to which
the attributes belong ; but of this fubjed, when its attributes are
fet afide, we have but an obfcure and relative conception, whe-
ther it be body or mind.

This was before obferved with regard to bodies, Eflay II.
chap. 19. to which we refer, and it is no lefs evident with regard tp
minds. What is it we call a mind ? It is a thinking, intelligent,
adlive being. Granting that thinking, intelligence, and adlivity,
are attributes of mind, I want to know what the thing or being
is to which thefe attributes belong ? To this queflion I can find
no fatisfying anfwer. The attributes of mind, and particularly
its operations, we know clearly ; but of the thing itfelf we have
only an obfcure notion.

Nature

OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 441

Nature teaches us, that thinking and reafoning are attributes, CHAP. IL
which cannot exifl: without a fubje<5l ; but of that fubjedl I believe
the' beft notion we can form implies little more than that it is the
fubjedl of fuch attributes.

Whether other created beings may have the knowledge of the
real efTence of created things, fo as to be able to deduce their at-
tributes from their effence and conftitution, or whether this be
the prerogative of him who made them, we cannot tell ; but it is
a knowledge which feems to be quite beyond the reach of the
human faculties.

We know the efTence of a triangle, and from that efTence can
deduce its properties. It is an univerfal, and might have been
conceived by the human mind, though no individual triangle had
ever exifted. It has only what Mr Locke calls a nominal efTence,
which is exprefTed in its definition. But every thing that exifts
has a real efTence, which is above our comprehenlion ; and there-
fore we cannot deduce its properties or attributes from its nature, -
as we do in the triangle. We mufl take a contrary road in the
knowledge of God's works, and fatisfy ourfelves with their attri-
butes as fadls, and with the general convidlion that there is a fub-
jedl to which thofe attributes belong.

Enough, I think, has been faid, to fhow, not only that we may
have clear and diflindl conceptions of attributes, but that they
are the only things, with regard to individuals, of which we have
a clear and diflincl conception.

The other clafs of general terms are thofe that fignify the genera
and [pedes into which we divide and fubdivide things. And if
we be able to form diflindt conceptions of attributes, it cannot
furely be denied that we may have diftin(5l conceptions of genera
and /pedes ; becaufe they are only collections of attributes which
we conceive to exifl in a fubjed, and to which we give a general

K k k name.

442

ESSAY V.

CHAP. II. name. If the attributes comprehended under that general name
be difl:in(flly conceived, the thing meant by the name muft be
difl;in<5lly conceived. And the name may juftly be attributed tcr
every individual which has thofe attributes.

Thus, I conceive diftinftly what it is to have wings, to be co-
vered with feathers, to lay eggs. Suppofe then that we give the
name of bird to every animal that has thefe three attributes.
Here undoubtedly my conception of a bird is as di{lin<5l as my
notion of the attributes which are common to this fpecies : And if
this be admitted to be the definition of a bird, there is nothing }
conceive more diftin6lly. If I had never feen a bird, and can
but be made to underfland the definition, I can eafily apply it to
every individual of the fpecies, without danger of miflake.

When things are divided and fubdlvlded by men of fcience,
and names given to the genera z.nd. fpecies^ thofe names are defined.
Thus, the genera and fpecies of plants, and of other natural bodies,
arc accurately defined by the writers in the various branches of
natural hiftory ; fo that, to all future generations, the definition
will convey a di(lin<5l notion of the genus or fpecies defined.

There are, without doubt, many words fignifying genera and
fpecies of things, which have a meaning fomewhat vague and in-
di{lin(5t ; fo that thofe who fpeak the fame language do not al-
ways ufe them in the fame fenfe. But if we attend to the caufe
of this indiftindlnefs, we fhall find, that It is not owing to their
being general terms, but to this, that there is no definition of
them that has authority. Their meaning, therefore, has not been
learned by a definition, but by a kind of indudlion, by obfervlng
to what individuals they are applied by thofe who underfland the
language. We learn by habit to ufe them as we fee others do,
even when we have not a precife meaning annexed to them. A
man may know, that to certain individuals they may be applied
with propriety ; but whether they can be applied to certain other

individuals.

OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 44-3

individuals, he may be uncertain, either from want of good au- CHAP. 11.
thorities, or from having contrary authorities, which leave him
in doubt.

Thus, a man may know, that when he applies the name of
beaft to a lion or a tyger, and the name of bird to an eagle or a
turkey, he fpeaks properly. But whether a bat be a bird or a
beaft, he may be uncertain. If there was any accurate definition
of a beaft and of a bird, that was of fufficient authority, he could
be at no lofs.

It is faid to have been fometimes a matter of difpute, with re-
gard to a monftrous birth of a woman, whether it was a man or
not. Although this be in reality a queftion about the meaning of
a word, it may be of importance, on account of the privileges
which laws have annexed to the human charadler. To make fuch
laws perfedlly precife, the definition of a man would be neceflary,
which I believe Legiflators have feldom or never thought fit to
give. It is, indeed, very difficult to fix a definition of fo com-
mon a word, and the cafes wherein it would be of any ufe fo
rarely occur, that perhaps it may be better, when they do occur,
to leave them to the determination of a judge or of a jury, than
to give a definition, which might be attended with unforefeen
jconfequences.

A genus or fpecies, being a colle(5lion of attributes, conceived
to exift in one fubjedl, a definition is the only way to prevent any
addition or diminution of its ingredients in the conception of dif-
ferent perfons ; and when there is no definition that can be appeal-
ed to as a ftandard, the name will hardly retain the moft perfe<3:
precifion in its fignification.

From what has been faid, I conceive it is evident, that the words
which fignify genera and fpecies of things have often as precife
and definite a fignification as any words whatfoever ; and that

K k k 2 when

444 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. 11.^ when it is oiherwife, their want of precifion is not owiiig to their
being general words, but to other caufes.

Having fliewn that we may have a perfedly clear and diftincfl
conception of the meaning of general terms, we may, I think,
take it for granted, that the fame may be faid of other general
words, fuch as prepofitions, conjundlions, articles. My defigh at
prefent being only to Ihew, that we have general conceptions no
lefs clear and diftindl than thofe of individuals, it is fufficient for
this purpofe, if this appears with regard to the conceptions eXf
prelTed by general terms. To conceive the meaning of a general
word, and to conceive that which it fignifies, is the fame thing.
We conceive diftinclly the meaning of general terms, therefore we
conceive diftindlly that which they fignify. But fuch terms do
not fignify any individual^ byt what vs common to many indivi^
duals ; therefore, we have a diftindl conception of things common
to many individuals, that is, we have, diliind general concjeptions.

We muft her6 beware of the aJmbTgAity of t3ie 'word- conception:,
which fometimes fignifies the adl of the mind in conceiving, ibme-
times the thing conceived, which is the objcdl of that a6l. If the
word be taken in the firft fenie, I acknowledge that every adl of
the mind is an individual a(5l ; the nni-verfality, therefore, is not
in the adl of the mind, but in the objecft, or thing conceived. The
thing conceived is an attribute common to many fubje<5ts, or it is
a genus or fpecies common to many individuals.

Suppofe I conceive a triangle, that is, a plain figure terminated
by three right lines. He that underllands this definition uiftin<5lly
has a diftincl conception of a triangle. But a uiangle is not an
individual ; it is a fpecies. The adt of nay underftanding in con-
ceiving it is an individual adl, and has a real exiftence; but the
thing conceived is general, and cannot exift without other attri-
butes, which are not included in the definition.

Every

OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 445

Every triangle that really exifts mufl have a certain length of ^i^^llL
fides and meafure of angles ; it mud have place and time. But the
definition of a triangle includes neither exiftence, nor any of thofe
attributes ; and therefore they are not included in the conception
of a triangle, which cannot be accurate if it comprehend more
than the definition.

Thus 1 think it appears to be evident, that we have general con-
ceptions that are char and dillindl, both of attributes of things,
and of genera and fpecies of things.

CHAP. IIL

Of general Conceptions formed by analyfmg Objects ^

WE are next to confider the operations of the underftanding,,
by which we are enabled to form general conceptions.

Thefe appear to me to be three ; frjt^ The refolving or ana-
Tyfing a fubjedl into its known attributes, and giving a name ta
each attribute, which name fhall fignify that attribute, and no-
thing more.

Secondly, The obferving one or more fuch attributes to be com-
mon to many fubjeds. The firft is by Philofophers called abjlrac-
tion ; the fecond may be czWe^ generaltfing ; but both are com-
monly included under the name of abJlraElion.

It is difiicult to fay which of them goes firft, or whether they
are not fo clofely connedled that neither can claim the precedence..
For on the one hand, to perceive an agreement between two or"
more obje(fls in the fame attribute, feems to require nothing more

than

446 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. III. than to compare them together. A favage, upon feeing fnow and
chalk, would find no difEculty in perceiving that they have the
fame colour. Yet, on the other hand, it feems impoffible that he
fhould obferve this agreement without abftradlion, that is, diflin-
guifliing in his conception the colour, wherein thofe two objedls
agree, from the other qualities wherein they difagree.

It feems therefore, that we cannot generalife without fome degree
of abftra6lion ; but I apprehend we may abftradl without genera-
lifing : For what hinders me from attending to the whitenefs of the
paper before me, without applying that colour to any other obje6l:
The whitenefs of this individual obje6l is an abftradl conception,
but not a general one, while applied to one individual only. Thefe
two operations, however, are fubfervient to each other ; for the more
attributes we obferve and diilinguifh in any one individual, the
more agreements we £hali difcover between it and other individuals.

A third operation of the underftanding, by which we form ab-
ftradl conceptions, is the combining into one whole a certain num-
ber of thofe attributes of which we have formed abflra<5l notions,
and giving a name to that combination. It is thus we form abftra6l
notions of the genera and fpecies of things. Thefe three operations
we ihall confider in order.

With regard to abflradlion, flridlly fo called, I can perceive no-
thing in it that is difficult either to be underftood or pradlifed.
What can be more eafy than to diilinguifh the different attributes
which we know to belong to a fubjedl ? In a man, for inftance, to
diilinguifh his fize, his complexion, his age, his fortune, his birth,
his profeflion, and twenty other things that belong to him. To
think and fpeak of thefe things with underflanding, is furely within
the reach of ev.ery man endowed with the human faculties.

There may be diflindlions that require nice difcernment, or an
acquaintance with the fubjedl that is not common. Thus, a critic

in

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY ANALYSING OBJECTS. 447

in painting may difcern the flyle of Raphael or Titian, when CHAP. ill.
another man could not. A lawyer may be acquainted with ma-
ny diftindtions in crimes, and coptrad^s, and ad\ions, which ne-
ver occurred to a man who has not (ludied law. One man may
excel another in the talent of diflinguilTiing, as he may in memor,y
or in reafoning ; but there is a certain degree of this talent, with-
out which a man would have no title to be confidered as a reafon-
able creature.

It ought likewlfe to be obferved, that attributes may with perfed:
eafe be diftinguifhed and disjoined in our conception, which can-
not be a(5lually feparated in the fubje(5l. Thus, in a body, I can
diflinguifh its folidity from its extenfion, and its weight from both.
In extenfion I can diftinguifh length, breadth, and thicknefs, yet
none of thefe can be feparated from the body, or from one another.
There may be attributes belonging to a fubjedl, and infeparable
from it, of which we have no knowledge, and confequently no
conception ; but this does not hinder our conceiving diftindtly
thofe of its attributes which we know.

Thus, all the properties of a circle are infeparable from the na-
ture of a circle, and may be demonftrated from its definition ; yet
a man may have a perfedlly diftindl notion of a circle, who knows
very few of thofe properties of it which Mathematicians have de-
monftrated ; and a circle probably has many properties which no
Mathematician ever dreamed of.

It is therefore certain, that attributes, which in their nature are
abfolutely infeparable from their fubjedl, and from one another,
may be disjoined in our conception ; one cannot exift without the
other, but one can be conceived without the other.

Having confidered abftra(5lion, ftricflly Co called, let us next con-
fider the operation of generalifing, which is nothing but the ob-
fervlng one or more attributes to be common to many fubjeifls.

If

448 ESSAY V.

CHAP. III. If any man can doubt whether there be attributes that are really
common to many individuals, let him confider whether there be
not many men that are above fix feet high, and many below it ;
whether there be not many men that are rich, and many more that
are poor ; whether there be not many that were born in Britain,
and many that were born in France. To multiply inftances of this
kind, would be to affront the reader's underftanding. It is certain
therefore, that there are innumerable attributes that are really com-
mon to many individuals ; and if this be what the fchoolmen
called univerfale a parte rei^ we may affirm with certainty, that tliere
■are fuch univerfals.

There are fome attributes expreffed by general words, of which
this may feem more doubtful. Such are the qualities which are
inherent in their feveral fubjecls. It may be faid that every fub-
jedl hath its own qualities, and that which is the quality of one
^ fubjecl cannot be the quality of another fubjed. Thus the white-

nefs of the flieet of paper upon which I write, cannot be the white-
nefs of another flieet, though both are called white. The weight
of one guinea is not the weight of another guinea, though both
are faid to have the fame weight.

To this I anfwer, that the whitenefs of this flieet is one thing,
whitenefs is another ; the conceptions fignified by thefe two forms
of fpeech are as different as the expreffions : The firft fignifies an
individual quality really exifting, and is not a general conception,
though it be an abflradl one : The fecond fignifies a general concep-
tion, which implies no exiftence, but may be predicated of every
thing that is white, and in the fame fenfe. On this account, if
one fhould fay, that the whitenefs of this fiieet is the whitenefs of
another fheet, every man perceives this to be abfurd , but when he
fays both fheets are white, this is true and perfedlly underflood.
The conception of whitenefs implies no exiftence; it would remain
the fame, though every thing in the univerfe that is white were
annihilated.

It

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY ANALYSING OBJECTS. 449

It appears therefore, that the general names of qualities, as well pHAP. iii.
as of other attributes, are applicable to many individuals in the
fame fenfe, which cannot be if there be not general conceptions
fignified by fuch names.

If it Ihould be afked, how early, or at what period of life, men
begin to form general conceptions ? I anfwer. As foon as a child can
fay, with underflanding, that he has two brothers or two fifters ; as
foon as he can ufe the plural number, he mud have general con-
ceptions ; for no individual can have a plural number.

As there are not two individuals in nature that agree in every
thing, fo there are very few that do not agree in fbme things. We
take pleafure from very early years in obferving fuch agreements.
One great branch of what we call wif, which when innocent, gives
pleafure to every good natured man, conGfts in difcovering unex-
pedled agreements in things. The author of Hudibras could
difcern a property common to the morning and a boiled lobfter,
that both turn from black to red. Swift could fee fomething
common to wit and an old cheefe. Such unexpected agreements
may fliew wit ; but there are innumerable agreements of things
which cannot eft ape the notice of the lowed underflanding ; fuch
as agreements in colour, magnitude, figure, features, time, place,
age, and fo forth. Thefe agreements are the foundation of fo many
common attributes, which are found in the rudeft languages.

The ancient Philofophers called thefe univerfals, or predicables,
and endeavoured to reduce them to five clafles ; to wit, genus, fpe-
cies, fpecific difference, properties, and accidents. Perhaps there
may be more claffes of univerfals or attributes, for enumerations,
fo very general, are feldom complete; but every attribute, common
to feveral individuals, may be expreffed by a general term, which
is the fign of a general conception.

How prone men are to form general conceptions we may fee from

L 1 1 the

45°

ESSAY V.

QHAP. III. ^i^Q i^fe of metaphor, and of the other figures o/ fpeech grounded
on fimilitude. Similitude is nothing elfe than an agreement of the
qbjedls compared in one or more attributes ; and if there be no
attribute common to both, there can be no fimiUtude.

The fimilitudes and analogies between the various objecfls that
nature prefents to us, are infinite and inexhauftible. They not
only pleafe, when difplayed by the Poet or Wit in works of tafte,
but they are highly ufeful in the ordinary communication of our
thoughts and fentiments by language. In the rude languages of
barbarous nations, fimilitudes and analogies fupply the want of
proper words to exprefs mens fentiments, fo much, that in fuch
languages there is hardly a fentence without a metaphor ; and if
we examine the moft copious and polilhed languages, we fhall find
that a great proportion of the words and phrafes which are account-
ed the moft proper, may be faid to be the progeny of metaphor.

As foreigners, who fettle in a nation as their home, come at laft;
to be incorporated, and lofe the denomination of foreigners, fo
words and phrafes, at firll borrowed and figurative, by long ufe
become denizens in the language, and lofe the denomination of fi-
gures of fpeech. When we fpeak of the extent of knowledge, the
fteadinefs of virtue, the tendernefs of afFedtion, the perfpicuity of
expreffion, no man conceives thefe to be metaphorical expreflions ;
tliey are as proper as any in the language : Yet it appears upon the
• very face of them, that they muft have been metaphorical in thofe

who ufed them firft ; and that it is by ufe and prefcription that
they have loft the denomination of figurative, and acquired a right
to be confidered as proper words. This obfervation will be found
to extend to a great part, perhaps the greateft part, of the words
of the moft perfedl languages : Sometimes the name of an indivi-
dual is given to a general conception, and thereby the individual in
a manner generalifed. As.when the Jew Shylock, in Shakespeare,
fays, A Daniel come to judgment; yea, a Daniel ! In this fpeech,
a Daniel is an attribute, or an univerfal. The charader of Daniel,

^8

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY ANALYSING OBJECTS. 451

as a tnan of fingular wifdom, is abflracfled from his perfon, and CHAP. III,
confidered as capable of being attributed to other perfons.

Upon the whole, thefe two openations of abftrading and gene-
raUfing appear common to all men that have underftanding. The
pradlice of them is, and muft be, familiar to every man that ufes
language ; but it is one thing to pradlife them, and another to ex-
plain how they are performed ; as it is one thing to fee, another to
explain how we fee. The firfl is the province of all men, and is
the natural and eafy operation of the faculties which God hath gi-
ven us. The fecond is the province of Philofophers, and though
a matter of no great difficulty in itfelf, has been much perplexed
by the ambiguity of words, and dill more by the hypothefes of
Philofophers.

Thus when I confider a billiard ball, its colour is one attribute,
which I fignify by calling it white ; its figure is another, which is •
fignified by calling it fpherical ; the firm cohefion of its parts is
fignified by calling it hard j its recoiling, when it ftrikes a hard bo-
dy, .is fignified by its being called elaftic ; its origin, as being part
of the tooth of an elephant, is fignified by calling it ivory ; and
its ufe by calling it a billiard ball.

The words, by which each of thofe attributes is fignified, have
one diftindl meaning, and in this meaning are applicable to many
individuals. They fignify not any individual thing, but attributes
common to many individuals ; nor is it beyond the capacity of a
child to underftand them perfedlly, and to apply them properly to
every individual in which they are found.

As it is by analyfing a complex objedl into its feveral attributes
that we acquire our fimpleft abfl:ra€l conceptions, it may be pro-
per to compare this analyfis with that which a Chemift makes of a
compounded body into the ingredients which enter into its com-
pofition; for although there be fuch an analogy between thefe

L II 2 two

452

ESSAY V.

CHAP. IIL f^Q operations, that we give to both the name of analyfis or refblu-
tlon, there is at the fame time fo great a diffimilitude in fome re-
fpcds, that we may be led into error, by applying to one what be-
longs to the other.

It is obvious, that the chemical analyfis is an operation of the
hand upon matter, by various material inftruments. The analyfis
we are now explaining is purely an operation of the underfland-
ing, which requires no material inftrument, nor produces any
change upon any external thing; we fliall therefore call it the in-
telledual or mental analyfis.

In the chemical analyfis, the compound body itfelf is the fubjedl
analyfed. A fubjecfl fo imperfedlly known, that it may be com-
pounded of various ingredients, when to our fenfes it appears
perfectly fimple ; and even when we are able to analyfe it into the
different ingredients of which it is compofed, we know not how
or why the combination of thofe ingredients produces fuch a body.

Thus pure fea-falt is a body, to appearance, as fimple as any in
nature. Every the leafl: particle of it, difcernible by our fenfes,
is perfe<5lly firailar to every other particle in all its qualities. The
niceft tafle, the quickefl eye, can difcern no mark of its being
made up of different ingredients ; yet, by the chemical art, it can
be analyfed into an acid and- an alkali, and can be again produced
by the combination of thofe two ingredients. But how this com-
bination produces fea-falt, no inan has been able to difcover. The
ingredients are both as unlike the compound as any bodies we
know. No man could have gueffed before the thing was known
that fea-falt is compounded of thofe two ingredients ; no man could
have gueffed, that the union of thofe two ingredients (hould pro-
duce fuch a compound as fea-falt. Such in many cafes are the
phaenomena of the chemical analyfis of a compound body.

If we confider the intelle(flual analyfis. of an objedl, it is evident

that

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY ANALYSING OBJECTS.

that nothing of this kind can happen ; becaufe the thing analyfed
is not an external objedl imperfedlly known ; it is a conception of
the mind itfelf. And to fuppofe that there can be any thing in a
conception that is not conceived, is a contradidlion.

The reafon of obferving this difference between thofe two kinds
of analyfis is, that fome Philofophers, in order to fupport their
fyftems, have maintained, that a complex idea may have the appear-
ranee of the moft perfedl fimplicity, and retain no fimilitude of
any of the fimple ideas of which it is compounded ; juft as a white
colour may appear perfedlly fimple, and retain no fimilitude to any
of the feven primary colours of which it is compounded ; or as a
chemical compofition may appear perfedlly fimple, and retain no
fimilitude to any of the ingredients.

From which thofe Philofophers have drawn this important con-
clufion, that a clufter of the ideas of fenfe, properly combined,
may make the idea of a mind ; and that all the ideas, which Mr
Locke calls ideas of reflecflion, are only compofitions of the ideas
which we have by our five fenfes. From this the tranfition is eafy,
that if a proper compofition of the ideas of matter may make the
idea of a mind, then a proper compofition of matter itfelf may
make a mind, and that man is only a piece of matter curioufly
formed*

In this curious fyftem, the whole fabric refts upon this founda-
tion, that a complex idea, which is made up of various fimple •
ideas, may appear to be perfectly fimple, and to have no marks of
compofition, becaufe a compound body may appear to our fenfes
to be perfe(5lly fimple.

Upon this fundamental propofition of this fyftem I beg leave to >
make two remarks.

1, Suppofing it to be true, it affirms only what may be. We are

indeed

454 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. III. i,iJee(i in mofl cafes very imperfe(5l judges of what may be. But
this we know, that were we ever fo certain that a thing may be,
this is no good reafon for beUeving that it really is. A may be is a
mere hypothefis, which may furnifh matter of invefligation, but
is not entitled to the leaft degree of belief The tranfition from what
-may be to what really is, is familiar and eafy to thofe who have a
predile(5tion for a hypothefis ; but to a man who feeks truth with-
out prejudice or prepofleffion, it is a very wide and difficult ftep,
and he will never pafs from the one to the other, without evidence
not only that the thing may be, but that it really is.

2. As far as I am able to judge, this, which it is faid may be,
cannot be. That a complex idea fliould be made up of limple
ideas ; fo that to a ripe underflanding refledling upon that idea,
there fhould be no appearance of compofition, nothing fimilar to
the fimple ideas of which it is compounded, feems to me to in-
volve a contradiction. The idea is a conception of the mind. If
any thing more than this is meant by the idea, I know not what it
is ; and I wifh both to know what it is, and to have proof of its
exiftence. Now that there fliould be any thing in the conception
of an obje<fl which is not conceived, appears to me as manifeft a
contradidlion, as that there fhould be an exiftence which does not
•exifl, or that a thing fliould be conceived, and not conceived at
the fame time.

But, fay thefe Philofophers, a white colour is produced by the
compofition of the primary colours, and yet has no refemblance to
' any of them. I grant it. But what can be inferred from this with
regard to the compofition of ideas ? To bring this argument home
to the point, they muft fay, that becaufe a white colour is com-
pounded of the primary colours, therefore the idea of a white co-
lour is compounded of the ideas of the primary colours. This
reafoning, if it was admitted, would lead to innumerable abfur-
dities. An opaque fluid may be compounded of two or more pel-
lucid fluids. Hence we might infer with equal force, that the idea

of

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY ANALYSING OBJECTS. 455

of an opaque fluid may be compounded. of the idea of two or more CHAP. iir.
pellucid fluids.

Nature's way of compounding bodies, and our way of com-
pounding ideas, are fo different in many refpedls, that we cannot
reafon from the one to the other, unlefs it can be found that ideas
are combined by fermentations and elective atcradlions, and may
be analyfed in a furnace by the force of fire and of menftruums.
Until this difcovery be made, we mufl hold thofe to be Ample ideas,
which, upon the moft attentive refledlion, have no appearance of
compofition ; and thofe only to.be the ingredients of complex ideas,
which, by attentive reflexion,, can be perceived to be contained
in them.

If the idea of mind, and its operations, may be compounded of
the ideas of matter and its qualities, why may not the idea of mat-
ter be compounded of the ideas of mind ? There is the fame evi-
dence for the laft may be as for the firft. And why may not the
idea of found be compounded of the ideas of colour; or the idea
of colour of thofe of found ? Why may not the idea of wifdom
be compounded of ideas of folly; or the idea of truth of ideas of
abfurdity ? But we leave thefe myfterious may bes to them, that:
have faith to receive them.

CHAP. IV.

Of general Conceptioni formed by Combination.

AS, by an intellectual analyfis of objedls, we form general con-
ceptions of fingle attributes, (which of all conceptions that
enter into the human mind are the mofl Ample), fo, by combining
feveral of thefe into one parcel, and giving a name to that com-
bination, we form general conceptions that may be very complex,,
and at the fame time very diftincfl.

TJius

450 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. IV. Thus one, who, by analyling extended objedls, has got the fimplc
notions of a-point, a line, ilraight or curve, an angle, a furt'ace, a
folid, can eafily conceive a plain furface, terminated by four equal
ftraight lines meeting in four jwints at right angles. To this fpe-
cies of figure he gives the name of a fquare. In like manner, be
can conceive a folid terminated by fix equal fquares, and give it
the name of a cube. A fquare, a cube, and every mme of mathe-
matical figure, is a general term, exprefling a complex general
•conception, made by a certain combination of the fimple elements
into which we analyfe extended bodies.

Every mathematical figure is accurately defined, by enumerating
'the fimple elements of which it is formed, and the manner of
their combination. The definition contains the whole effence of
it : And every property that belongs to it may be deduced by de-
monftrative reafoning from its definition. It is not a thing that
exifls, for then it would be an. individual ; but it is a thing that
is conceived without regard to exiftence.

A farm, a manor, a pariflai, a county, a kingdom, are complex
general conceptions, formed by various combinations and modifica-
tions of inhabited territory, under certain forms of government.

Different combinations of military men form the notions of a
company, a regiment, an army.

The feveral crimes which are the objects of criminal law, fuch
as theft, murder,, robbery, piracy, what are they but certain com-
binations of human adlions and intentions, which are accurately
defined in criminal law, and which it is found convenient to com-
prehend under one name, and confider as one thing ?

When we obfcrve, that Nature, in her animal, vegetable, and
inanimate produclions, has formed many individuals that agree
in many of their qualities and attributes, we are led by natural

inflincfl

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 457

inftirKH: to expe6t their agreement in other qualities, which we CHAP. iv.
have not had occafion to perceive. Thus, a child who has once
burnt his finger, by putting- it in the flame of one candle, expeds
the fame event if he puts it in the flame of another candle, or in
any flame, and is thereby led to think that the quality of burning
belongs to all flame. This inftindlive indu(5tion is not jufl:ified
by the rules of logic, and it fometimes leads men into harmlefs
miftakes, which experience may afterwards corredl ; but it pre-
ferves us from deftru(5lion in innumerable dangers to which we
are expofed.

The reafon of taking notice of this principle in human nature
in this place is, that the difl:ribution of the productions of Nature
into genera znd jpecies becomes, on account of this principle, more
generally ufeful.

The Phyfician expeds, that the rhubarb which has never yet^
been tried will have like medical virtues with that which he has
prefcribed on former occafions. Two parcels of rhubarb agree
in certain fenfible qualities, from which agreement they are both
called by the fame general name rhubarb. Therefore it is expected
that they will agree in their medical virtues. And as experience
has difcovered certain virtues in one parcel, or in many parcels, we
prefume, without experience, that the fame virtues belong to all
parcels of rhubarb that ihall be ufed.

If a traveller meets a horfe, an ox, or a flieep, which he never
faw before, he is under no appreheafion, believing thefe animals
to be of a fpecies that is tame and inoffenfive. But he dreads a
lion or a tyger, becaufe they are of a fierce and ravenous fpecies.

We are capable of receiving innumerable advantages, and arc
expofed to innumerable dangers, from the va'-ious productions of
Nature, animal, vegetable, and inanimate. The life of man, if
an hundred times longer than it is, would be infufEcient to learn.

M m m fromi

458 E S S A Y V.

CHAP, iv^ from experience the ufeful and hurtful qualities of every individual
produ(5lion of Nature taken fingly.

The Author of Nature hath made provifion for our attaining
that knowledge of his works which is necefTary for our fubfiftence
and prefervation, partly by the conftitution of the produdlions of
Nature, and partly by the conftitution of the human mind.

Yox firji^ In the produ(5lions of Nature, great numbers of indi-
viduals are made fo like to one another, both in their obvious and
in their more occult qualities, that we are not only enabled, but
invited, as it were, to reduce them into clafTes, and to give a ge-
neral name to a clafs ; a name which is common to every indivi-
dual of the clafs, becaufe it comprehends in its fignification thofe
qualities or attributes only that are common to all the individuals
of that clafa.

Secondly, The human mind is fb framed, that, from the agree-
ment of individuals in the more obvious qualities by which we
reduce them into one clafs, we are naturally led to expedl that
they will be found to agree in their more latent qualities, and in
tlais we are feldom difappointed.

We have, therefore, a flrong and rational inducement, both to
dlflribute natural fubflances into clafTes, genera and fpeciesy under
general names ; and to do this with all the accuracy and diftindl-
nefs we are able. For the more accurate our divifions are made,
and the more difllndlly the feveral fpecies are defined, the more
fecurely we may rely, that the qualities we find in one or in a few
individuals will be found in all of the fame fpecies.

Every fpecies of natural fubftances which has a name in lan-
guage, is an attribute of many individuals, and is itfelf a com-
bination of more fimple attributes, which we obferve to be com-
aion to thofe individuals.

We

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 459

We fhall find a great part of the words of every language, nay,
I apprehend, the far greater part, to fignify combinations of more
fimple general conceptions, which men have found proper to be
bound up, as it were, in one parcel, by being defigned by one name.

1

Some general conceptions there are, which may more properly
be called compofitions or ivorks than mere combinations. Thus, one
may conceive a machine which never exilled. He may conceive
an air in mufic, a poem, a plan of archite(5lure, a plan of govern-
ment, a plan of condudl in public or in private life, a fentence,
a difcourfe, a treatife. Such compofitions are things conceived
in the mind of the author, not individuals that really exift ; and
the fame general conception which the author had may be com-
municated to others by language.

Thus, the Oceana of Harrington was conceived in the mind
of its author. The materials of which it is compofed are things
conceived, not things that exifted. His fenate, his popular affem-
bly, his magiftrates, his eledlions, are all conceptions of his mind,
and the whole is one complex conception. And the fame may be
faid of every work of the human, underftanding.

Very different from thefe are the works of God, which we behold.
They are works of creative power, not of underflanding only..
They have a real exiftence. Our bed conceptions of them are
partial and imperfed. But of the works of the human under-
Handing our conception may be perfedl and complete. They are
nothing but what the author conceived, and what he can exprefs
by language, fo as. to convey his conception perfedly to men like
himfelf.

Although fuch works are indeed complex general conceptions,,
they do not fo properly belong to our prefent fubjed. They are
more the objeds of judgment and of tafte, than of bare conception
or firaple apprehenfion.

M m. m 2 ' To>

CHAP. IV,

^

4K5o E S S A Y V.

CHAP. IV. To return therefore to. thofe complex conceptions which are
formed merely by combining thofe that are more fimple. Nature
has given us the power of combining fuch fimple attributes, and
fuch a number of them as we find proper ; and of giving one name
to that combination, and confidering it as one objedl of thought.

The fimple attributes of things, which fall under our obferva-
tion, are not fo numerous but that they may all have names in a
-copious language. But to give names to all the combinations that
can be made of two, three, or more of them, would be impoffible.
The rnoft copious languages have names but for a very fmall part.

It may likewife be obferved, that the combinations that have
names are nearly, though not perfectly, the fame in the different
languages of civilized nations, that have intercourfe with one ano-
ther. Hence it is, that the Lexicographer, for the mod part, can
give words in one language anfwering perfe<fHy, or very nearly, to
thofe of another ; and what is wrote in a fimple ftyle in one lan-
guage, can be tranflated almofl: word for word into another.

From thefe obfervations we may conclude, that there are either
certain common principles of human nature, or certain common
occurrences of human life, which difpofe men, out of an infinite
number that might be formed, to form certain combinations ra-
ther than others.

Mr Hume, in order to account for this phaenomenon, has re-
courfe to what he calls the afTociating qualities of ideas ; to wit,
caufation, contiguity in time, and place, and fimllitude. He con-
ceives, " that one of the moft remarkable effedls of thofe afifocia-
" ting qualities, is the complex ideas which are the common fub-
*' je6ls of our thoughts. That this alfo is the caufe why languages
*' fo nearly correfpond to one another. Nature in a manner point-
" ing out to every one thofe ideas which are moft proper to be
■" united into a complex one."

I

CONCEPTIONS- FORMED BY COMBINATION. 461

I agree with this ingenious author, that Nature in a manner CHAP. IV.
points out thofe fimple ideas which are mofl proper to be united
into a complex one: But Nature does this, not folely or chiefly by
the relations between the fimple ideas, of contiguity, caufation,
and refemblance ; but rather by the fitnefs of the combinations
we make, to aid our own conceptions, and to convey them to others
by language eafily and agreeably.

The end and ufe of language, without regard to the aflociating
qualities of ideas, will lead men that have common underftand-
ing to form fuch complex notions as are proper for exprefTmg their
wants, their thoughts, and their defires : And in every language
we fhall find thefe to be the complex notions that have names.

In the rudeft ftate of fociety, men muft have occafion to form
the general notions of man, woman, father, mother, fon, daugh-
ter, fifler, brother, neighbour, friend, enemy, and many others,
to exprefs the common relations of one perfon to another.

If they are employed in hunting, they muft have general terms
to exprefs the various implements and operations of the chace.
Their houfes and clothing, however fimple, will furnifli another
fet of general terms, to exprefs the materials, the workmanfhip,
and the excellencies and defedls of thofe fabrics. If they fail up-
on rivers, or upon the fea, this will give occafion to a great num-
ber of general terms, which otherwife would never have occurred
to their thoughts.

The fame thing may be faid of agriculture, of pafturage, of
every art they pra<5life, and of every branch of knowledge they
attain. The neceffity of general terms for communicating our
fentiments is obvious ; and the invention of them, as far as we
find them neceflTary, requires no other talent but that degree of un-
derftanding which is common to men.

The

462 E S S A Y V.

CHAP, iv^ The notions of debtor and creditor, of profit and lofs, of ac-
count, balance, flock on hand, and many others, are owing to
commerce. The notions of latitude, longitude, courfe, diftance
run J and thofe of ihips, and of their various parts, furniture and
operations, are owing to navigation. The Anatomifl muft have
names, for the various limilar and diffimilar parts of the human
body, and words, to exprefs their figure, pofition, ftrudlure, and
ufe. The Phyfician muft have names for the various difeafes of
the body, their caufes, fymptoms, and means of cure.

Tlie like may be faid of the Grammarian, the Logician, the
Critic, the Rhetorician, the Morallft, the Naturalift, the Mechanic,
and every man that profeffes any art or fcience.

When any difcovery is made in art or in nature, which requires
new combinations and new words to exprefs it properly, the in-
vention of thefe is eafy to thofe who have a diftinft notion of the
thing to be exprefled j and fuch words will readily be adopted, and
receive the public fancSlion.

If, on the other hand, any man of eminence, through vanity
er want of -judgment, fhould invent new words, to exprefs com-
binations that have neither beauty nor utility, or which may as
well be expreffed in the current language, his authority may give
them currency for a time with fervile imitators, or blind admirers :
But the judicious will laugh at them, and they will foon lofe their
credit. So true was the obfervation made by Pomponius Mar-
CELLUS, an ancient Grammarian, to Tiberius C-esar. " You,
** CjESAR, have power to make a man a denizen of Rome, but
" not to make a word a denizen of the Roman language."

Among nations that are civilized, and have intercourfe with one
another, the moft neceflary and ufeful arts will be common ; the
important parts of human knowledge will be common ; their fe*
veral languages will be fitted to it, and confequently to one another.

New

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 463

New inventions of general ufe give an eafy birth to new com- F^^J*' ^\'
plex notions and new names, which fpread as far as the invention
does. How many new complex notions have been formed, and
names for them invented in the languages of Europe, by the mo-
dern inventions of printing, of gunpowder, of the mariner's
compafs, of optical glaffes ? The fimple ideas combined in thofe
complex notions, and the afTociating qualities of thofe ideas, are
very ancient ; but they never produced thofe complex notions un-
til there was ufe for them.

What is peculiar to a nation in its cuftoms, manners, or laws,
will give occafion to complex notions and words peculiar to the lan-
guage of that nation. Hence it is eafy to fee, why an impeach-
ment, and an attainder, in the Englifli language, and oftracifm in
the Greek language, have not names anfwering to them in other
languages.

I apprehend, therefore, that it is utility, and not the aflbciating
qualities of the ideas, that has led men to form only certain com-
binations, and to give names to them in language, while they ne-
gle<5t an infinite number that might be formed.

The common occurrences of life, in the intercourfe of men,
and in their occupations, give occafion to many complex notions.
We fee an individual occurrence, which draws our attention more
or lefs, and may be a fubjedl of converfation. Other occurrences,
fimilar to this in many refpeds, have been obferved, or may be
expecEled. It is convenient that we Ihould be able to fpeak of what
is common to them all, leaving out the unimportant circumftances
of time, place, and perfons. This we can do with great eafe, by
giving a name to what is common to all thofe individual occurren-
ces. Such a name is a great aid to language, becaufe it compre-
hends, in one word, a great number of fimple notions, which it
would be very tedious to exprefs in detail.

Thus

464 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. IV. Thus men have formed the complex notions of eating, drink-
ing, fleeping, walking, riding, running, buying, felling, plowing^
fowing, a dance, a feafl:, war, a battle, vi(5lory, triumph ; and
others without number.

Such things mud frequently be the fubjedl of converfation ; and
if we had not a more compendious way of expreffing them than
by a detail of all the fimple notions they comprehend, we fhould
lofe the benefit of fpeech.

The different talents, difpofitions, and habits of men in fociety,
being interefting to thofe who have to do with them, will in every
language have general names ; fuch as wife, foolifli, knowing, ig-
norant, plain, cunning. In every operative art, the tools, inftru-
ments, materials, the work produced, and the various excellencies
and defedls of thefe, muft have general names.

The various relations of perfons, and of things which cannot
efcape the obfervation of men in fociety, lead us to many complex
general notions ; fuch as father, brother, friend, enemy, mafter,
fervant, property, theft, rebellion.

The terms of art in the fciences make another clafs of general
names of complex notions ; as In mathematics, axiom, definition,
problem, theorem, demonftration.

I do not attempt a complete enumeration even of the claffes of
complex general conceptions. Thofe I have named as a fpeclmen,
I think, are moftly comprehended under what Mr Locke calls
mixed modes and relations ; which, he juftly obferves, have names
given them in language, in preference to innumerable others that
might be formed ; for this reafon only, that they are ufeful for the
purpofe of communicating our thoughts by language.

In all the languages of mankind, not only the writings and dif-

courfes

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 465

courfes of the learned, but the converfation of the vulgar, is al- CHAP. iv.
moft entirely made up of general words, which are the figns of
general conceptions, either fimple or complex. And in every lan-
guage, we find the terms fignifying complex notions to be fuch,
and only fuch, as the ufe of language requires.

There remains a very large clafs of complex general terms, on
which I (hall make fome obfervations ; I mean thofe by which we
name the fpecies, genera, and tribes of natural fubftances.

It is utility, indeed, that leads us to give general names to the
various fpecies of natural fubftances ; but, in combining the attri-
butes which are included under the fpecific name, we are jnore
aided and dire(fled by Nature, than in forming other combinations
of mixed modes and relations. In the laft, the ingredients are
brought together in the occurrences of life, or in the adlions or
thoughts of men. But, in the firft, the ingredients are united by
nature in many individual fubftances which God has made. We
form a general notion of thofe attributes, wherein many indivi-
duals agree. We give a fpecific name to this combination ; which
name is common to all fubftances having thofe attributes, which
either do or may exift. The fpecific name comprehends neither
more nor fewer attributes than we find proper to put into its defi-
nition. It comprehends not time, nor place, nor even exiftence,
although there can be no individual without thefe.

This work of the underftanding is abfolutely neceflary for fpeak-
ing intelligibly of the produ(5lions of Nature, and for reaping the
benefits we receive, and avoiding the dangers we are expofed to
from them. The individuals are fo many, that to give a proper
name to each would be beyond the power of language. If a good
or bad quality was obferved in an individual, of how fmall ufe
would this be, if there was not a fpecies in which the fame qua-
lity might be expected ?

N n n Without

466 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. IV. Without fome general knowledge of the qualities of natural fub-
ftances, human life could not be preferved. And there can be
no general knowledge of this kind, without reducing them to fpe-
cies under fpecific names. For this reafon, among the rudefl na-
tions, we find names for fire, water, earth, air, mountains, foun-
tains, rivers ; for the kinds of vegetables they ufe ; of animals they
hunt or tame, or that are found ufcful or hurtful.

Each of thofe names fignifies in general a fubflance having a
certain combination of attributes. The name therefore mufl be
common to all fubftances in which thofe attributes are found.

Such general names of fubftances being found in all vulgar lan-
guages, before Philofophers began to make accurate divifions, and
lefs obvious difti nations, it is not to be expedled that their mean-
ing fhould be more precife than is necefTary for the common pur-
pofes of life.

As the knowledge of Nature advances, more fpecies of natural
fubftances are obferved, and their ufeful qualities difcovered. In
order that this important part of human knowledge may be com-
municated, and handed down to future generations, it is not fuffi-
cient that the fpecies have names. Such is the fludluating ftate of
language, that a general name will not always retain the fame pre-
cife fignification, unlefs it have a definition in which men are dif-
pofed to acquiefce.

There was undoubtedly a great fund of natural knowledge
among the Greeks and Romans in the time of Pliny. There is
a great fund in his natural hiftory ; but much of it is loft to us,
for this reafon among others, that we know not what fpecies of
fubftance he means by fuch a name.

Nothing could have prevented this lofs but an accurate definition
of the name, by which the fpecies might have been dlftinguilhed
. from all others, as long as that name and its definition remained.

To

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 467

To prevent fuch lofs in future times, modern Philofophers have CHAP. IV.
very laudably attempted to give names and accurate definitions of
all the known fpecies of fubftances, wherewith the bountiful
Creator hath enriched our globe.

This is necefTary, in order to form a copious and diftindl lan-
guage concerning them, and confequently to facilitate our know-
ledge of them, and to convey it to future generations.

Every fpecies that is known to exift ought to have a name ; and.
that name ought to be defined by fuch attributes as ferve beft to
diftinguifh the fpecies from all others.

Nature invites to this work, by having formed things fo as to
make it both eafy and important.

For, Jirjl^ We perceive numbers of individual fubftances fo like
in their obvious qualities, that the moft unimproved tribes of men
confider them as of one fpecies, and give th^m one common name.

Secondly, The more latent qualities of fubftances are generally
the fame in all the individuals of a fpecies : So that what, by ob-
fervation or experiment, is found in a few individuals of a fpecies,
is prefumed, and commonly found to belong to the whole. By
this we are enabled, from particular fadls, to draw general conclu-
fions. This kind of induction is indeed the mafter-key to the
knowledge of Nature, without which we could form no general
conclufions in that branch of philofophy.

And, thirdly. By the very conftitution of our nature, we are
led, without reafoning, to afcribe to the whole fpecies what we
have found to belong to the individuals. It is thus we come to
know that fire burns, and water drowns \ that bodies gravitate,
and bread nourifhes.

N n n 2 The

468 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. IV. 'j'lie fpecies of two of the kingdoms of Nature, to wit, the ani-
mal and the vegetable, feem to be fixed by Nature, by the power
they have of producing their like. And in thefe, men in all ages
and nations have accounted the parent and the progeny of the fame
fpecies. The differences among Naturalifls, with regard to the
fpecies of thefe two kingdoms, are very inconfiderable, and may be
occafioned by the changes produced by foil, climate, and culture,
and fometimes by monflrous produdions, which are compara-
tively rare.

In the inanimate kingdom we have not the fame means of divid-
ing things into fpecies, and therefore the limits of fpecies feem to
be more arbitrary : But from the progrefs already made, there is
ground to hope, that even in this kingdom, as the knowledge of it
advances, the various fpecies may be fo well diftinguifhed and de-
fined as to anfwer every valuable purpofe.

When the fpecies are fo numerous as to burden the memory, it
is greatly aflifted by diftributing them into genera ; the genera into
tribes, the tribes into orders, and the orders into clafles.

Such a regular diftrlbution of natural fubftances, by divifions
and fubdivifions,. has got the name of a fyftem.

It is not a fyftem of truths, but a fyftem of general terms, with
their definitions ; and it is not only a great help to memory, but
facilitates very much the definition of the terms. For the defini-
tion of the genus is common to all the fpecies of that genus, and
fo is underftood in the definition of each fpecies, without the trouble
of repetition. In like manner, the definition of a tribe is under-
ftood in the definition of every genus, and every fpecies of that
tribe ; and the fame may be faid of every fuperior divifion.

The effe(5l of fuch a fyftematical diftribution of the produdions
of Nature, is feen in our fyftems of zoology, botany, and mine-
ralogy ;

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 469

ralogy ; in which a fpecies is commonly defined accurately in a line p^AP. iv.
or two, which, without the fyftematical arrangement, could hardly
be defined in a page.

With regard to the utility of fyftems of this kind, men have
gone into contrary extremes ; fome have treated them with con-
tempt, as a mere didlionary of words; others, perhaps, reft in fuch
fyftems, as all that is worth knowing in the works of Nature.

On the one hand, it is not the intention of fuch fyftems to com-
municate all that is known of the natural produdions which they
defcribe. The properties moft fit for defining and diftinguifliing
the feveral fpecies, are not always thofe that are moft ufeful to be
known. To difcover and to communicate the ufes of natural fub-
ftances in life, and in the arts, is no doubt that part of the bufinefs
of a Nacuralift which is the moft important; and the fyftematical
arrangement of them is chiefly to be valued for its fubferviency to
this end. This every judicious Naturalift will grant. •

But, on the other hand, the labour is not to be defpifed, by which
the road to an ufeful and important branch of knowledge is made
eafy in all time to come ; efpecially when this labour requires both
extenfive knowledge and great abilities.

The talent of arranging properly, and defining accurately, is fo
rare^ and at the fame time fo ufeful, that it may very juftly be
confidered as a proof of real genius, and as entitled to a high degree
of praife. There is an intrinfic beauty in arrangement, which cap-
tivates the mind, and gives pleafure, even abftradling from its uti-
lity ; as in moft other things, fo in this particularly. Nature has
joined beauty with utility. The arrangement of an army in the
day of battle is a grand fpedlacle. The fame men crowded in a
fair, have no fuch effetfl. It is not more ftrange therefore that fome
men fpend their days in ftudying fyftems of Nature, than that
other men employ their lives in the ftudy of languages. The moft

important

470

ESSAY V.

CHAP. rv. important end of thofe fyftems, furely is to form a copious and an
unambiguous language concerning the produ<5lions of Nature, by
which every ufeful difcovery concerning them may be communi-
cated to the prefent, and tranfmitted to all future generations,
without danger of miftake.

General terms, efpecially fuch as are complex in their fignifica-
tion, will never keep one precife meaning without accurate defini-
tion; and accurate definitions of fuch terms can in no way be
formed fo eafily and advantageoufly, as by reducing the things they
fignify into a regular fyftem.

Very eminent men in the medical profefTion, in order to remove
all ambiguity in the names of difeafes, and to advance the healing
art, have of late attempted to reduce into a fyflematical order the
difeafes of the human body, and to give diflin(5l names, and accu-
rate definitions, of the feveral fpecies, genera^ orders, and clafTes,
into which they diflribute them j and I apprehend, that in every
art and fcience, where the terms of the art have any ambiguity
that obftrudls its progrefs, this method will be found the eafieft
and moft fuccefsful for the remedy of that evil.

It were even to be wilhed, that the general terms which we find
in common language, as well as thofe of the arts and fciences,
could be reduced to a fyflematical arrangement, and defined fo as
that they might be free from ambiguity ; but perhaps the obftacles
to this are infurmountable. I know no man who has attempted
it but Bifliop WiLKiNS in his Effay towards a real charadler and
a philofophical language. The attempt was grand, and w^orthy
of a man of genius.

The formation of fuch fyflems, therefore, of the various pro-
dudions of Nature, inflead of being defpifed, ought to be ranked
among the valuable improvements of modern ages, and to be the
more efteemed that its utility reaches to the moft diftant future

times,

CONCEPTIONS FORMED BY COMBINATION. 471

times, and, like the invention of writing, ferves to embalm a moft ^^^^' ^X'
important branch of human knowledge, and to preferve it from be-
ing corrupted or loft.

CHAP. V.

Obfervatlons concerning the Names given to our general Notions.

HAVING now explained, as well as I am able, thofe operations
of the mind by which we analyfe the obje(5ls which Nature
prefents to our obfervation, into their flmple attributes, giving a
general name to each, and by which we combine any number of
fuch attributes into one whole, and give a general name to that
combination, I Ihall offer fome obfervations relating to our gene-
ral notions, whether fimple or complex.

I apprehend that the names given to them by modern Philofo-
phers have contributed to darken our fpeculations about them,
and to render them difficult and abftrufe.

"We call them general notions, conceptions, ideas. The words
notion and conception, in their proper and moft common fenfe,
fignify the a<5l or operation of the mind in conceiving an objedt.
In a figurative fenfe, they are fometimes put for the objedl con-
ceived. And I think they are rarely, if ever, ufed in this figurative
fenfe, except when we fpeak of what we call general notions or
general conceptions. The word idea, as it is ufed in modern timps,
has the fame ambiguity.

Now, it is only In the laft of thefe fenfes, and not in the firft,
that we can be faid to have general notions or conceptions.
The generality is in the objedl conceived, and not in the adl of
the mind by which it is conceived. Every adl of the mind is an
individual a(5^, which does or did exift. But we have power to

conceive

472 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. V. conceive things which neither do nor ever did exift. We have
power to conceive attributes without regard to their exiftence. The
conception of fuch an attribute is a real and individual a<5l of the
mind ; but the attribute conceived is common to many indivi-
duals that do or may exift. We are too apt to confound an objedl
of conception with the conception of that objedt. But the dan-
ger of doing this muft be much greater when the obje(5l of con-
ception is called a conception.

The Peripatetics gave to fuch objedls of conception the names
of unlverfals, and of predicables. Thofe names had no ambiguity,
and I think were much more fit to exprefs what was meant by
them than the names we ufe.

It is for this reafon that I have fo often ufed the word attribute,
which has the fame meaning with predicable. And for the fame
reafon, I have thought it neceffary repeatedly to warn the reader,
that when, in compliance with cuftom, I fpeak of general notions or
general conceptions, I always mean things conceived, and not the
a(5l of the mind in conceiving them.

The Pythagoreans and Piatonifts gave the name of ideas to fuch
general objefls of conception, and to nothing elfe. As we bor-
rowed the word idea from them, fo that it is now familiar in all
the languages of Europe, I think it would have been happy if we
had alfo borrowed their meaning, and had ufed it only to fignify
what they meant by it. I apprehend we want an unambiguous
word to diftinguifh things barely conceived from things that exift.
If the word idea was ufed for this purpofe only, it would be re-
ftored to its original meaning, and fupply tliat want.

We may furely agree with the Platonifts in the meaning of the
word idea^ without adopting their theory concerning ideas. We need
not believe, with them, that ideas are eternal and felf-exiftent, and
that they have a more real exiftence than the things we fee and feel.

They

OF NAMES GIVEN TO GENERAL NOTIONS. 473

They were led to give exiftence to ideas, from the common pre- chap. V.
judice that every thing which is an objedl of conception muft
really exift ; and having once given exiflence to ideas, the reft of
their myfterious fyftem about ideas followed of courfe ; for things
merely conceived, have neither beginning nor end, time nor place;
they are fubjedl to no change ; they are the patterns and exemplars
according to which the Deity made every thing that he made ; for
the work muft be conceived by the artificer before it is made.

Thefe are undeniable attributes of the»ideas of Plato, and if
we add to them that of real exiftence, we have-the whole myfteri-
ous fyftem of Platonic ideas. Take away the attribute of exiftence,
and fuppofe them not to be things that exift, but things that are
barely conceived, and all the myftery is removed; all that remains
is level to the human underftanding.

The word ejfence came to be much ufed among the fchoolmen,
and what the Platonifts called the idea of a fpecies, they called its
effence. The word ejfentia is faid to have been made by Cicero ;
but even his authority could not give it currency, until long after
his time. It came at laft to be ufed, and the fchoolmen fell into
much the fame opinions concerning eifences, as the Platonifts held
concerning ideas. The effences of things were held to be uncreated,
eternal, and immutable.

Mr Locke diftinguiflies two kinds of eflence, the real and the
nominal. By the real effence he means the conftitution of an in-
dividual, which makes it to be what it is. This eflence muft be-
gin and end with the individual to which it belongs. It is not
therefore a Platonic idea. But what Mr Locke calls the nominal
eflence, is the conftitution of a fpecies, or that which makes an in-
dividual to be of fuch a fpecies; and this is nothing but that com-
bination of attributes which is fignified by the name of the fpecies,
and which we conceive without regard to exiftence.

O o o The

474

ESSAY V.

CHAP, v,^ The eflence of a fpecies therefore, is what the Platonifts called
the idea of the fpecies.

If the word idea be reftrldted to the meaning which it bore among
the Platonifts and Pythagoreans, many things which Mr liOCKE has
faid with regard to ideas will be juft and true, and others will not.

It will be true, that moft words, (indeed all general words,) are
the figns of ideas ; but proper names are not ; they fignify indivi-
dual things, and not ideas. It will be true not only that there are
general and abftradl ideas, but that all ideas are general and ab-
ftradl. It will be fo far from the truth, that all our fimple ideas
are got immediately, either from fenfation, or from confcioufnefs ;
that no fimple idea is got by either, without the co-operation of
other powers. The objecfts of fenfe, of memory, and of confciouf-
nefs, are not ideas but individuals ; they muft be analyfed by the
underftanding into their finaple ingredients, before we can have
fimple ideas ; and thofe fimple ideas muft be again combined by
the underftanding, in diftinft parcels with names annexed, in order
to give us complex ideas : It will be probable not only that brutes
have no abftradl ideas, but that they have no ideas at all.

I fhall only add, that the learned author of the origin and pro-
grefs of language, and perhaps his learned friend Mr Harris, are
the only modern authors I have met with, who reftridl the word
idea to this meaning. Their acquaintance with ancient philofophy
led them to this. What pity is it that a word, which in ancient
philofophy had a diftinft meaning, and which, if kept to that
meaning, would have been a real acquifition to our language, fhould
be ufed by the moderns in fo vague and ambiguous a manner,
that it is more apt to perplex and darken our fpeculations, than to
convey ufeful knowledge.

From all that has been faid about abftradl and general con-
ceptions, I think we may draw the following condufions concern-
ing them.

FirJ,

OF NAMES GIVEN TO GENERAL NOTIONS. 475

Firji, That it is by abfl:ra(5tlon that the mind is furniflied with CHAP. v.
all its moft fimple, and moil diftindl notions : The fimpleft objedls
of fenfe appear both complex and indiftincfl:, until hy abftra<5lion
they are analyfed into their more fimple elements ; and the fame
may be faid of the objecfls of memory and of confcioufuefs.

Secondly, Our moft diftindl complex notions are thofe that are
formed by compounding the fimple notions got by abflradion.

'Thirdly, Without the powers of abflradling and generalifing, it
would be impoffible to reduce things into any order and method,
by dividing them into genera and fpecies.

Fourthly, Without thofe powers there could be no definition ;
for definition can only be applied to" univerfals, and no indivi-
dual can be defined.

.ft

Fifthly, Without abftradl and general notions there can neither
be reafoning nor language.

Sixthly, As brute animals fliew no figns of being able to diftin-
guifh the various attributes of the fame fubjedl ; of being able to
clafs things into genera and fpecies ; to define, to reafon, or to com-
municate their thoughts by artificial figns, as men do ; I muft think
with Mr Locke, that they have not the powers of abftrading and
generalifing ; and that in this particular, Nature has made a fpe-
cific difference between them and the human fpecies.

CHAP. VL
Opinions of Philofophers about Univerfals.

IN the ancient philofophy, the doctrine of univerfals, that is, of
things which we exprefs by general terms, makes a great figure.
The ideas of the Pythagoreans and Platonifts, of which fo much

O o o 2 has

47^ E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VI.

has been already faid, were univcrfals. All fcience is employed
about univerfals as its object:. It was thought that there can be no
fcience, unlcfs its obje(5l be fomething real and immutable ; and
therefore thofe who paid homage to truth and fcience, maintained
that ideas or univerfals have a real and immutable exiftence.

The Sceptics, on the contrary, (for there were fceptical Philofo-
phers in thofe early days) maintained, that all things are mutable,
and in a perpetual fludluation ; and from this principle inferred,
that there is no fcience, no truth ; that all is uncertain opinion.

Plato, and his maflers of the Pythagorean fchool, yielded this
with regard to objeds of fenfe, and acknowledged that there could
be no fcience or certain knowledge concerning them : But they
held, that there are objecSls of intellect of a fuperior order and
nature, which are permanent and immutable. Thefe are ideas, or
univerfal natures, of which the objedls of fenfe are only the images
and fliadows.

To thefe ideas they afcribed, as I have already obferved, the
mofl: magnificent attributes. Of man, of a rofe, of a circle, and
of every fpecies of things, they believed that there is one idea or
form, which exifted from eternity, before any individual of the
fpecies was formed : That this idea is the exemplar or pattern, ac-
cording to which the Deity formed the individuals of the fpecies :
That every individual of the fpecies participates of this idea, which
conftitutes its effence ; and that this idea is likewlfe an object of
the human intelle(5l, when, by due abftradion, we difcern it to be
one in all the individuals of the fpecies.

Thus the idea of every fpecies, though one and immutable,
might be confidered in three different views or refpeds ; firjl, as
having an eternal exiftence before there was any individual of the
fpecies ; fecondly^ as exifting in every individual of that fpecies,
without divifion or multiplication, and making the eflence of the

fpecies ;

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. 477

fpeciesj and, thirdly y as an objed of intelledt and of fclence in ^HAP. vi.
man.

Such I take to be the do<5lrine of Plato, as far as I am able xs>
comprehend it. His difciple Aristotle reje<fled the firft of thefe
views of ideas as vifionary, but differed Httle from his mafter with
regard to the two lad. He did not admit the exiftence of univer-
fal natures antecedent to the exiftence of individuals ; but he held,
that every individual confifls of matter and form : That the form
(which I take to be what Plato calls the idea) is common to all
the individuals of the fpecies, and that the human intelledl is fit-
ted to receive the forms of things as objedls of contemplation.
Such profound fpeculations about the nature of univerfals, we
find even in the firft ages of philofophy. I wifh I could make
them more intelligible to myfelf and to the reader.

The divifion of univerfals into five clafles ; to wit, genus, fpe-
cies, fpeclfic difference, properties, and accidents, is likewife very
ancient, and I conceive was borrowed by the Peripatetics from the
Pythagorean fchool.
>

Porphyry has given us a very diftin(5l treatife upon thefe, as
an introdu(5lion to Aristotle's categories. But he has omitted
the intricate metaphyfical queftions that were agitated about their
nature ; fuch as. Whether genera and fpecies do really cxift in na-
ture ? Or, Whether they are only conceptions of the human mind?
If they exift in nature, Whether they are corporeal or incorporeal?
And whether they are inherent in the obje<5ls of fenfe, or disjoin-
ed from them ? Thefe queftions he tells us, for brevity's fake, he
omits, becaufe they are very profound, and require accurate dif-
cuffion. It is probable, that thefe queftions exercifed the wits of
the Philofophers till about the twelfth century.

About that time, RoscELiNas or Ruscelinus, the mafter of
the famous Abelard, introduced a new dodrine, that there is no-
thing

478 E S S A Y V.

CHAF. VL thing unlverfal but words or names. For this, and other herefies,
he was much perfecuted. However, by his eloquence and abili-
ties, and thofe of his difciple Abelard, the dodlrine fpread, and
thofe who followed it were called Nominalifts. His antagonifts,
who held that there are things that are really imiverfal, were called
Realifts. The fcholaftic Philofophers, from the beginning of the
twelfth century, were divided into thefe two fe(5ls. Some few
took a middle road between the contending parties. That univer-
fality, which the Realifls held to be in things themfelves, Nomi-
nalifts in names only, They held to be neither in things nor in
names only, but in our conceptions. On this account they were
called Conceptualifts : But being expo fed to the batteries of both
the oppofite parties, they made no great figure.

When the fedl of Nominalifts was like to expire, it received new
life and fpirit from Occam, the difciple of ScOTUS, in the four-
teenth century. Then the difpute about univerfals, a parte rei, was
revived with the greateft animofity in the fchools of Britain,
France, and Germany, and carried on, not by arguments only,
but by bitter reproaches, blows, and bloody affrays, until the doc-
trines of Luther and the other Reformers turned the attention of
the learned world to more important fubjecls.

V-

After the revival of learning, Mr Hobbes adopted the opinion
of the Nominalifts. Human nature, chap. 5. fe(5l. 6. " It is plain,
" therefore, fays he, that there is nothing univerfal but names."
And in his Leviathan, part i. chap. 4. " There being nothing uni-
" verfal but names, proper names bring to mind one thing only ;
" univerfals recal any one of many."

Mr Locke, according to the divifion before mentioned, I think,
may be accounted a Conceptualift. He does not maintain that
there are things that are univerfal ; but that we have general or
univerfal ideas which we form by abftradlion ; and this power of
forming abftradl and general ideas, he conceives to be that which

makes

OPINIONS ABOUT UN I V E R S A L S. 479

makes the chief difl:in(5\ion in point of underftanding between CHAP. vi.
men and brutes.

Mr Locke's dodlrine about abfl:ra<flion has been combated by
two very powerful antagonifts, BiQiop Berkeley and Mr Hume,
who have taken up the opinion of the Nominalifts. The former
thinks, " That the opinion, that the mind hath a power of form-
*' ing abflradl ideas, or notions of things, has had a chief part in
" rendering fpeculation intricate and perplexed, and has occafioned
" innumerable errors and difficulties in almofl all parts of know-
" ledge." That " abftradl ideas are like a fine and fubtile net,
*' which has miferably perplexed and entangled the rfiinds of men,
" wich this peculiar circumftance, that by how much the finer
" and more curious was the wit of any man, by fo much the
" deeper was he like to be enfnared, and fafter held therein." Thatt
" among all the falfe principles that have, obtained in the world,:i
" there is none hath a more wide influence over the thoughts of 'i
*' fpeculative men than this of abfl:ra6l general ideas."

The good Bifhop therefore, in twenty-four pages of the Intro-
dudlion to his Principles of Human Knowledge, encounters this
principle with a zeal proportioned to his apprehenfion of its ma-
lignant and extenfive influence.

That the zeal of the fceptical Philofopher againft abflradl ideas
•was almoft equal to that of the Bifliop, appears from his words,
Treatife of Human Nature, book i. part 1. fedl. 7. " A very ma-
" terial queftion has been ftarted concerning abftracl or general
*' ideas, whether they be general or particular in the mind's con-
" ception of them ? A great Philofopher (he means Dr Berkeley)
*' has difputed the received opinion in this particular, and has af-
" ferted, that all general ideas are nothing but. particular ones an-
" nexed to a certain term, which gives them a more extenfive fig-
" nification, and makes them recal upon occafion other individuals
** w^hich are fimilar to them. As I look upon this to be one of the

" greatefl

480 ESSAY V.

CHAP.vr. « greatefl: and mofl valuable difcoveries that have been made of

^' " late years in the republic of letters, I fhall here endeavour to

" confirm it by fome arguments, which I hope will put it beyond

" all doubt and controverfy."

I £hall make an end of this fubjed, with fome refle(5lions on
what has been faid upon it by thefe two eminent Philofophers.

I. Firjl^ I apprehend that we cannot, with propriety, be faid to
have abftracfl and general ideas, either in the popular or in the
philofophical fcnfe of that word. In the popular fenfc an idea is
a thought ; it is the adl of the mind in thinking, or in conceiving
any objeft. This a(fl of the mind is always an individual adt, and
therefore there can be no general idea in this fenfe. In the phi-
lofophical fenfe, an idea is an image in the mind, or in the brain,
which in Mr Locke's fyflem is the immediate obje<fl of thought;
in the fyftem of Berkeley and Hume the only objecl of thought.
I believe there are no ideas of this kind, and therefore no abftradl
general ideas. Indeed, if there were really fuch images in the
mind, or in the brain, they could not be general, becaufe every
thing that really exifts is an individual. Univerfals are neither
ads of the mind, nor images in the mind.

As therefore there are no general ideas in either of the fenfes in
which the word idea is ufed by the moderns, Berkeley and
Hume have in this queftion an advantage over Mr Locke ; and
their arguments againll: him are good ad hominem. They favv far-
ther than he did into the jufl confequences of the hypothefis con-
cerning ideas, which was common to them and to him ; and they
reafoned juftly from this hypothefis, when they concluded from it,
that there is neither a material world, nor any fuch power in the
human mind as that of abftradion.

A triangle, in general, or any other univerfal, might be called
an idea by a Platonifl: ; but, in the ftyle of modern philofophy, it

is

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. 481

is not an idea, nor do we ever afcribe to ideas the properties of CHAP, vi.

friangles. It is never faid of any idea, that it has three fides and

three angles. We do not fpeak of equilateral, ifofceles, or fcalene

ideas, nor of right angled, acute angled, or obtufe angled ideas.

And if thefe attributes do not belong to ideas, it follows necefla-

rily, that a triangle is not an idea. The fame reafoning may be

applied to every other univerfal.

Ideas are faid to have a real exlflence in the mind, at lead,
while we think of them ; but univerfals have no real exiftence.
When we afcribe exiftence to them, it is not an exiftence in time
or place, but exiftence in fome individual fubje<5l ; and this exift-
ence means no more but that they are truly attributes of fuch a
fubjedl. Their exiftence is nothing but predicability, or the ca-
pacity of being attributed to a fubje6t. The name of predicables,
which was given them in ancient philofophy, is that which moft _
properly exprefles their nature.

2. I think it muft be granted, in thtfecond place, that univerfals
cannot be the objedls of imagination, when we take that word in
its ftridl and proper fenfe. " I find, fays Berkeley, " I have a
" faculty of imagining or reprefenting to myfelf the ideas of
" thofe particular things I have perceived, and of varioufly com-
" pounding and dividing them. I can imagine a man with two
" heads, or the upper parts of a man joined to the body of a
" horfe. "" I can imagine the hand, the eye, the nofe, each by it-
" felf, abftradled or feparated from the reft of the body. But
" then, whatever hand or eye I imagine, it muft have fome par-
" ticular fliape or colour. Llkewife, the idea of a man that I
" frame to myfelf muft be either of a white, or a black, or a tawny,
" a ftraight or a crooked, a tall, or a low, or a middle-fized man."

I believe every man will find in himfelf what this ingenious
author found, that he cannot imagine a man without colour, or
ftature, or ftiape.

P p p Imagination^

482 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VI. Imagination, as we before obferved, properly fignlfies a con-
ception of the appearance an objecSl would make to the eye, if
adually feen. An univerfal is not an objed of any external fenfe,
and therefore cannot be imagined ; but it may be diftinctly con-
ceived. When Mr Pope fays, " The proper ftudy of mankind is
" man," I conceive his meaning diftindly, though I neither ima-
gine a black or a white, a crooked or a ftraight man. The di-
ftindion between conception and imagination is real, though it
be too often overlooked, and the words taken to be fynonimous.
I can conceive a thing that is impoffible, but I cannot diftindly
imagine a thing that is impoffible. I can conceive a propofition
or a demonftration, but I cannot imagine either. I can conceive
underftanding and will, virtue and vice, and other attributes of
mind, but I cannot imagine them. In like manner, I can diftind-
ly conceive vmiverfals, but I cannot imagine them.

As to the manner how we conceive univerfals, I confefs my ig-
norance. I know not how I hear, or fee, or remember, and as
little do I know how I conceive things that have no exiftence. In
all our original faculties, the fabric and manner of operation is,
I apprehend, beyond our comprehenfion, and perhaps is perfedly
underftood by him only who made them.

But we ought not to deny a fadl of which we are confcious,
though we know not how it is brought about. And I think we may
be certain that univerfals are not conceived by means of images of
them in our minds, becaufe there can be no image of an univerfal.

3. It feems to me, that on this queftion Mr Locke and his
two antagonifls have divided the truth between them. He faw
very clearly, that the power of forming abftradl and general con-
ceptions is one of the moft diftinguifliing powers of the human
mind, and puts a fpecific difference between man and the brute
creation. But he did not fee that this power is perfedly irrecon-
cileable to his doiflrine concerning ideas.

This

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 483

His opponents faw this inconfiftency ; but, inflead of rejedling chap, vi.
the hypothefis of ideas, they explain away the power of abflrac-
tion, and leave no fpecific diflindion between the human under-
ftanding and that of brutes.

4. Berkeley, in his reafoning againfl: abftradl general ideas,
feems unwillingly or unwarily to grant all that is neceflary to fup-
port abftradl and general conceptions.

" A man, he fays, may confider a figure mei'ely as triangular,
" without attending to the particular qualities of the angles, or
*' relations of the fides. So far he may abftradl. But this will
" never prove that he can frame an ab(lra(5l general inconfiflent
" idea of a triangle."

If a man may confider a figure merely as triangular, be muft
have fome conception of this objedl of his confideration : For no
man can confider a thing which he does not conceive. He has a
conception, therefore, of a triangular figure, merely as fuch. I
know no more that is meant by an abftradl general conception of
a triangle.

He that confiders a figure merely as triangular, mufi: under-
ftand what is meant by the word triangular. If to the concep-
tion he joins to this word, he adds any particular quality of
angles or relation of fides, he mifunderftands it, and does not
confider the figure merely as triangular. Whence I think it is
evident, that he who confiders a figure merely as triangular muft
have the conception of a triangle, ab(lra<5ling from any quality of
angles or relation of fides.

The Bllhop, in like manner, grants, " That we may confider x
" Peter fo far forth as man, ok fo far forth as animal, without
" framing the forementioned abftrad: idea, in as much as all that
" is perceived is not confidered." It may here be obferved, that

P p p 2 he

484 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VI. he who confulcrs Peter Co far forth as man, or fo far forth as
animal, muft conceive the meaning of thofe abftradl general
words man and animal, and he who conceives the meaning of them,
has an abftracfl general conception.

From thefe conceflions, one would be apt to conclude that the
Bilhop thinks that we can abftra6l, but that we cannot frame ab-
flracfl ideas ; and in this I fhould agree with him. But I cannot recon-
cile his conceflions with the general principle he lays down before.
" To be plain," fays he, " I deny that I can abdradl one from ano«
" ther, or conceive feparately thofe qualities which it is impoflible
" fliould exift fo feparated." This appears to me inconfiftent with
"^ the conceflions above mentioned, and inconfiftent with experience.

If we can'confider a figure merely as triangular, without at-
tending to the particular quality of the angles or relation of the
fides, this, I think, is conceiving feparately things which cannot
exift fo feparated : For furely a triangle cannot exifl without ,a
particular quality of angles and relation of fides. And it is well
known from experience, that a man may have a diftindl concep-
tion of a triangle, without having any conception or knowledge
of many of the properties without which a triangle cannot exift.

Let us next confider the Bifliop's notion of generalifing. He
does not abfolutely deny that there are general ideas, but only
that there are abftradl general ideas. " An idea," he fays, " which,
" confidered in itfelf, is particular, becomes general, by being
" made to reprefent or ftand for all other particular ideas of the
" fame fort. To make this plain by an example, Suppofe a Geo-
" metrician is demonftrating the method of cutting a line in two
" equal parts. He draws, for inftance, a black line of an inch
" in length. This, which is in itfelf a particular line, is never-
" thelefs, with regard to its fignification, general ; fince, as it is
" there ufed, it reprefents all particular lines whatfoever; fo that
" what is demonftrated of it, is demonftrated of all lines, or, in

" other

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. 485

" other words, of a line in general. And as that particular line CHAP. VL
" becomes general by being made a fign, i'o the name lincy which,
" taken abfolutely, is particular, by being a fign, is made general."

Here I obferve, that when a particular idea is made a fign to
reprefent and fland for all of a fort, this fuppofes a dillindion of
things into forts or fpecies. To be of a fort implies having thofe
attributes which charadlerife the fort, and are common to all the
individuals that belong to it. There cannot, therefore, be a fore
without general attributes, nor can there be any conception of a
fort without a conception of thofe general attributes which diftin-
guifh it. The conception of a fort, therefore, is an abftraiSl ger
neral conception.

The particular idea cannot furely be made a fign of a thing of
which we have no conception. I do not fay that you muft have
an idea of the fort, but furely you ought to underftand or con-
ceive what it means, when you make a particular idea a repre-
fentative of it, otherwife your particular idea reprefents, you know
not what.

When I demonflrate any general property of a triangle, fuch
as, that the three angles are equal to two right angles, I muft un-
derftand or conceive diftincSlly what is common to all triangles*
I muft diftinguifh the common attributes of all triangles from
thofe wherein particular triangles may differ. And if I conceive
diftincftly what is common to all triangles, without confounding
it with what is not fo, tills is to form a general conception of a
triangle. And without this, it is impoflible to know that the de-
monftration extends to all triangles.

The Bifhop takes particular notice of this argument, and makes
this anfwer to it. " Though the idea I have in view, whilft I make
" the demonftration, be, for inftance, that of an ifofceles redan-
" gular triangle, whofe fides are of a determinate length, I may

"^ neverthelels

486 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VI. «» neverthelefs be certain that it extends to all other re<5tillnear

" triangles, of what fort or bignefs foever ; and that becaufe nei-

" ther the right angle, nor the equality or determinate length of

" the fides, are at all concerned in the demonftration."

But if he do not, in the idea he has in view, clearly diflinguifti
what is common to all triangles from what is not, it would be im-
pofTible to difcern whether fomething that is not common be con-
cerned in the demonftration or not. In order, therefore, to per-
ceive that the demonftration extends to all triangles, it is neceflary
to have a diftin6l conception of what is common to all triangles,
excluding from that conception all that is not common. And
this is all I underftand by an abftradl general conception of a
triangle.

Berkeley catches an advantage to his fide of the queftion, from
what Mr Locke expreffes (too ftrongly indeed) of the difficulty of
framing abftradl general ideas, and the pains and fkill neceflary
for that purpofe. From which the Bilhop infers, that a thing fo
difficult cannot be neceflTary for communication by language, which
is fo eafy and familiar to all forts of men.

There may be fome abftradl and general conceptions that are
difficult, or even beyond the reach of perfons of weak underftand-
ing ; but there are innumerable, which are not beyond the reach
of children. It is impoffible to learn language without acquiring
general conceptions ; for there cannot be a fingle fentence without
them. I believe the forming thefe, and being able to articulate the
founds of language, make up the whole difficulty that children
find in learning language at firft.

But this difficulty, we fee, they are able to overcome fo early as
not to remember the pains it coft them. They have the ftrongeft
inducement to exert all their labour and flcill, in order to under-
ftand, and to be underftood ; and they no doubt do fo.

The

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 487

The labour of forming abflrad notions, is the labour of learn- CHAP, vi.
ing to fpeak, and to underftand what is fpoken. As the words of
every language, excepting a few proper names, are general words,
the minds of children are furnifhed with general conceptions, in
proportion as they learn the meaning of general words. I believe
moft men have hardly any general notions but thofe which are ex-
preffed by the general words they hear and ufe in converfation.
The meaning of fome of thefe is learned by a definition, which
at once conveys a diftintS and accurate general conception. The
meaning of other general words we colledl, by a kind of induc-
tion, from the way in which we fee them ufed on various occa-
sions by thofe who underftand the language. Of thefe our con-
ception is often lefs diftin(5l, and in different perfons is perhaps not
perfe6lly the fame.

" Is it not a hard thing, fays the Bifhop, that a couple of chil-
" dren cannot prate together of their fugar-plumbs and rattles,
*' and the reft of their little trinkets, till they have firft tacked to-
*' gether numberlefs inconfiftencies, and fo formed in their minds
" abftradl general ideas, and annexed them to every common name
" they make ufe of."

However hard a thing it may be, it is an evident truth, that a
couple of children, even about their fugar-plumbs and their rattles,
cannot prate fo as to underftand, and be underftood, until they
have learned to conceive the meaning of many general words, and
this, I think, is to have general conceptions.

5. Having confidered the fentiments of Bifliop Berkeley on
this fubjedl, let us next attend to thofe of Mr Hume, as they are
exprefTed, part i. fe6l. 7. Treatife of Human Nature. He agrees
perfedlly with the Biftiop, " That all general ideas are nothing
" but particular ones annexed to a certain term, which gives them
" a more extenfive fignlfication, and makes them recal upon occa-
*' fion other individuals which are fimilar to them. A particular

" idea

4S8 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VL ct j^gj^ becomes general, by being annexed to a general term ; that

" is, to a term, which, from a cuftomary conjundion, has a re-

" lation to many other particular ideas, and readily recals them in

" the imagination. Abflra<5l ideas are therefore in themfelves in-

" dividual, however they may become general in their reprefenta-

*' tion. The image in the mind is only that of a particular ob-
" jed, though the application of it in our reafoning be the fame

" as if it was univerfal."

Although Mr Hume looks upon this to be one of the greatefl;
and mod: valuable difcoveries that has been made of late years in
the republic of letters, it appears to be no other than the opinion
of the Nominahfts, about which fo much difput^ was held from
the beginning of the twelfth century down to the reformation, and
- which was afterwards fupported by Mr Hobbes. I Ihall briefly
confider the arguments, by which Mr Hume hopes to have put it
beyond all doubt and controverfy.

Firjl^ He endeavours to prove, by three arguments, that it is
utterly impoftible to conceive any quantity or quality, without
forming a precife notion of its degrees.

This is indeed a great undertaking ; but if he could prove it, ic
is not fufficient for his purpofe ; for two reafons.

F'trjl^ Becaufe there are many attributes of tilings, befides quan-
tity and quality ; and it is incumbent upon him to prove, that it
is impoffible to conceive any attribute, without forming a precife
notion of its degree. Each of the ten categories of Aristotle
is a genus, and may be an attribute : And if he Ihould prove of
two of them, to wit, quantity and quality, that there can be no
general conception of them j there remain eight behind, of which
this muft be proved.

The

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. 489

The other reafon. is, becaufe, though it were impoffible to con- chap. vr.
celve any quantity or quality, without forming a precife notion
of its degree, it does not follow that it is impoffible to have a ge-
neral conception even of quantity and quality. The conception
of a pound troy is the conception of a quantity, and of the pre-
cife degree of that qviantity ; but it is an abftradl general concep-
tion notwithftatiding, becaufe it may be the attribute of many in-
dividual bodies, and of many kinds of bodies. He ought there-
fore to have proved, that we cannot conceive quantity or quality,
or any other attribute, without joining it infeparably to fome in-
dividual lubjed.

This remains to be. proved, which will be found no eafy matter.
For inftance, I conceive what is meant by a Japanefe as diftiadly
as what is meant by an Englilhman or a Frenchman. It is true,
a Japanefe is nddier quantity nor quality, but it is an attribute
common to fevery ijadividual df a populous nation. I never faw
an individual of that nation, and, if I can truft my confcioufnefs,
the general term docs not lead me to imagine one individual of the
fort as a reprefentative of all others.

»

Though Mr HUi«^V- therefore, undertakes much, yet, if he-
could prove all he undertakes to prove, it would by no means be
faflScient to (hew that we have no abftrad general conceptions.

Faffing thi^, let us attend to his arguments for proving this ex-
traordinary portion, that it is impoffible to conceive any quantity
or quality, without forming a precife notion of its degree.

The firft argument is, that it is impoffible to diftinguiffi things
that are not a(5lually feparable. " The precife length of a line is
" not different or diftinguiffiable from the line."

I have before endeavoured to fliew, that things infeparable in

Qjq q their

49° ESSAY V.

CHAP. VL their nature may be dlftinguiflied in our conception. And we

^ I ^ ■■■■■■

need go no farther to be convinced of this, than the inftance here
brought to prove the contrary. The precife length of a Une, he
fays, is not diflinguifhable from the hne. When I fay, this is a
I'tne^ I fay and mean one thing. When I fay it is a line of three
inches^ I fay and mean another thing. If this be not to diftinguifh
the precife length of the line from the line, I know not what it is
to diftinguifh.

Second argument. " Every obje<5l of fenfe, that is, every im-
" prefhon, is an individual, having its determinate degrees of
*' quantity and quality : But whatever is true of the impreffion is
" true of the idea, as they differ in nothing but their ftrength and

vivacity.

, The conclufion in this argument is indeed juftly drawn from

the premifes. If it be true that ideas differ in nothing from ob-
je6ls of fenfe but in ftrength and vivacity, as it muft be granted
that all the objedls of fenfe are individuals, it will certainly follow
that all ideas are individuals. Granting therefore the juftnefs of
this conclufion, I beg leave to draw two other conclufions from the
fame premifes, which will follow no lefs neceffarily.

ivVy?, If ideas differ from the objects of fenfe only in ftrength
and vivacity, it will follow, that the idea of a lion is a lion of lefs
ftrength and vivacity. And hence may arife a very important que-
ftion. Whether the idea of a lion may not tear in pieces, and de-
vour the ideas of fheep, oxen, and horfes, and even of men, wo-
men, and children ?

Secondly, If ideas differ only in ftrength and vivacity from the
objedls of fenfe, it will follow, that objedls, merely conceived, are
not ideas ; for fuch objeds differ from the objeds of fenfe in re-
fpeds of a very different nature from ftrength and vivacity. Every

objedl

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. 49,1

objedl of fenfe mufl have a real exiftence, and time and place : But CHAP, vi.
things merely conceived may neither have exiftence, nor time nor
place ; and therefore, though there fhould be no abftratfl ideas, it
does not follow, that things abftradl and general may not be
conceived.

The third argument is this : " It is a principle generally received
" in philofophy, that every thing in nature is individual; and that
" it is utterly abfurd to fuppole a triangle really exiftent, which
" has no precife proportion of fides and angles. If this, therefore,
" be abfurd in fad and reality, it muft be abfurd in idea, fince
" nothing of which we can form a clear and diftindl idea is abfurd
" or impoflible."

I acknowledge it to be impofliblcjj that a triangle fhould really
exifl which has no precife proportion of fides and angles; and imr
pofTible that any being fhould exift which is not an individual be-
ing ; for, I think, a being and an individual being mean the fame
thing : But that there can be no attributes common to many indi-
viduals, I do not acknowledge. Thus, to many figures that really
exift, it may be common that they are triangles ; and to many bo-
dies that exift, it may be common that they are fluid. Triangle
and fluid are not beings, they are attributes of beings.

As to the principle here afTumed, that nothing of which we can
form a clear and diftin(5l idea is abfurd or impoflible, I refer to-
what was faid upon it, chap. 3. EfTay 4. It is evident, that in every
mathematical demonftration, ad abfurdum, of which kind almoft
one half of mathematics confifts, we are required to fuppofe, and.
confequently to conceive a thing that is impoflible. From that fup-
pofition we reafon, until we come to a conclufion that is not only
impoffible but abfurd. From this we infer, that the propofition;
fuppofed at firft is impoflible, and therefore that its contradidory
is true.

Qjq q 2 As

492

ESSAY V.

■^»

CHAP. VI. /^s this is the nature of all demonflrations, ad abfurdum, it is evi-
dent, (I do not fay that we can have a clear and dill.in(5l idea,) but
that we can clearly and diftindlly conceive things impofllble.

The reft of Mr Hume's difcourfe upon this fubjedl is employed
in explaining how an individual idea, annexed to a general term,
may ferve all the purpofes in reafoning, which have been afcribed
to abftra(5l general ideas.

" When we have found a refemblance among feveral objeds
" that often occur to us, we apply the fame name to all of them,
" whatever differences we may obferve in the degrees of their
" quantity and quality, and whatever other differences may ap-
" pear among them. After we have acquired a cuftom of this
•• kind, the hearing of that name revives the idea of one of thefe
" obje(5ls, and makes the imagination conceive it, with all its cir-
" cumftances and proportions." But along with this idea, there is
a readinefs to furvey any other of the individuals to which the
name belongs, and to obferve, that no conclufion be formed con-
trary to any of them. If any fuch conclufion is formed, thofe in-
dividual ideas which contradidl it, immediately crowd in upon us,
and make us perceive the falfehood of the propofition. If tJie mind
fuggeft not always thefe ideas upon occafion, it proceeds from fonje
lmperfe(5^ion in its faculties ; and fuch a one as is often the fource
of falfe reafoning and fophiitry.

This is in fubftance the way in which he accounts for what he
calls " the foregoing paradox, that fome ideas are particular in
their nature, but general in their reprefentation." Upon this ac-
count I fhall make fome remarks.

I. He allows that we find a refemblance among feveral objedls,
and fuch a refemblance as leads us to apply the fame name to all
of them. This conceffion is fufiicient to Ihew that we have general

conceptions.

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 493

conceptions. There can be no refemblance in objeds that have no ^^f^*
common attribute ; and if there be attributes belonging in com-
mon to feveral objecfts, and in man a faculty to obferve and con-
ceive thefe, and to give names to them, this is to have general
conceptions.

I believe indeed we may have an indiftindl perception of refem-
blance, without knowing wherein it lies. Thus, I may fee a re-
femblance between one face and another, when I cannot diftindly
fay in what feature they refemble : But by analyfing the two faces,
and comparing feature with feature, I may form a diftindl notion
of that which is common to both. A painter, being accuftomed
to an analyfis of this kind, would have formed a diftincfl notion of
this refemblance at firft fight ; to another man it may require fome
attention.

There is therefore an indiftincfl notion of refemblance when we
compare the obje<fts only in grofs ; and this I believe brute animals
may have. There is alfo a diftinil notion of refemblance, when
we analyfe the objedts into their different attributes, and perceive
them to agree in fome, while they differ in others. It is in this
cafe only that we give a name to the attributes wherein they agree,
which muftlDe a common name, becaufe the thing fignified by it
is common. Thus, when I compare cubes of different matter, I
perceive them to have this attribute in common, that they are com-
prehended under fix equal fquares ; and this attribute only, is fig-
nified by applying the name of cube to them all. When I compare
clean linen with fnow, I perceive them to agree in colour ; and
when 1 apply the name of white to both, this name fignifies nei-
ther fnow nor clean linen, but the attribute which is common
to both.

2. The author fays, that when we have found a refemblance
among feveral objedls, we apply the fame name to all of them.

Itv

45^4

ESSAY V.

CHAP. VI. ff mufl here be obferved, that there are two kinds of names which
the author feems to confound, though they are very different in
nature, and in the power they have in language. There are proper
. names, and there are common names or appellatives. The firfl: are
the names of individuals. The fame proper name is never applied
to feveral individuals on account of their fimilitude, becaufe the
Tcry intention of a proper name is to diftinguifh one individual
from all others ; and hence it is a maxim in grammar, that proper
names have no plural number. A proper name fignifies nothing
but the individual whofe name it is ; and when we apply it to
the individual, we neither aiErm nor deny any thing concerning
him.

A common name or appellative is not the name of any indivi-
dual, but a general term, fignifying fomething that is or may be
common to feveral individuals. Common names therefore fignify.
common attributes. Thus, when I apply the name of fon or bro-
ther to feveral perfons, this fignifies and affirms that this attribute
is common to all of them..

From this it is evident, that the applying the fame name to fe*
veral individuals, on account of their refemblance, can, in confift,-
ence with grammar and common fenfe, mean nothing elfe than
the exprefllng by a general term fomething that is common to thofe
individuals, and which therefore may be truly affirmed of them
all.

3. The author fays, " It is certain that we form the idea of in-
" dividuals, whenever we ufe any general term. The word raifes
" up an individual idea, and makes the imagination conceive it^
** with all its particular circumftances and proportions."

This fadV he takes a great deal of pains to account for, from the
efie<^ of cuftom.

But

OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSAL S. ' 495

But the. fadl fhould be afcertalned before we take pains to ac- CHAP. VL
count for it. I can fee no reafon to believe the facft ; and I think
a farmer can talk of his fheep, and his black cattle, without con-
ceiving, in his imagination one individual, with all its circumftances
and proportions. If this be true, the whole of his theory of ge-
neral ideas falls to the ground. To me it appears, that when a
general term is well underftood, it is only by accident if it fug-
ged fome individual of the kind; but this effedt is by no means
condant.

I underftand perfedlly what Mathematicians call a line of the
fifth order ; yet I never conceived in my imagination any one of
the kind in all its circumftances and proportions. Sir Isaac
Newton firft formed a diftin<5l general conception of lines of the
third order ; and afterwards, by great labour and deep penetration,
found out and defcribed the particular fpecies comprehended under
that general term. According to Mr Hume's theory, he muft firft
have been acquainted with the particulars, and then have learned
by cuftom to apply one general name to all of them.

The author obferves, " That the idea of an equilateral triangle
" of an inch perpendicular, may ferve us in talking of a figure, a
" redilinear figure, a regular figure, a triangle, and an equilateral
" triangle."

I anfwer. The man that ufes thefe general terms, either under-
ftands their meaning, or he does not. If he does not underftand
their meaning, all his talk about them will be found only without
fenfe, and the particular idea mentioned cannot enable him to
fpeak of them with underftanding. If he underftands the meaning
of the general terms, he will find no ufe for the particular idea.

4. He tells us gravely, " That in a globe of white marble the
" figure and the colour are undiftinguilhable, and are in efFedl the

« fame."

496 E S S A Y V.

CHAP. VI. «< fame." How foolifli have mankind been to give different names,
in all ages and in all languages, to things undiftinguifhable, and
in effeft the fame ? Henceforth, in all books of fcience and of en-
tertainment, we may fubftitute figure for colour, and colour for
figure. By this we fhall make numberlefs curious difcoveries,
without danger of error.

ESSAY

497

CHA?. I.
^^ . '

ESSAY VI.

OF JUDGMENT.

CHAP. I.

Of yudgment in general.

JUDGING is an operation of the mind fo familiar to every
man who hath underflanding, and its name is fo common and
fo well underftood, that it needs no definition.

As it is impoflible by a definition to give a notion of colour to
a liian who never faw colours ; fo it is impoflible by any definition
to give a diftindl notion of judgment to a man who has not often
judged, and who is not capable of refledling attentively upon this
a<5l of his mind. The beft ufe of a definition is to prompt him to
that refledion ; and without it the beft definition will be apt to
miflead him.

The definition commonly given of judgment, by the more an-
cient writers in logic, was, that it is an a6l of the mind, whereby
one thing is affirmed or denied of another. I believe this is as
good a definition of it as can be given. Why I prefer it to fome
later definitions, will afterwards appear. Without pretending to
give any other, I fhall make two remarks upon it, and then offer
fome general obfervations on this fubjed.

R r r s I. It

jy,. .-:

498 E S S A Y VI.

•

CHAP.)I. I. It is true, that it is by affirmation or denial that we exprefs

our judgments ; but there may be judgment which is not exprefs-
ed. It is a folitary ad of the mind, and the exprefTion of it by
affirmation or denial is not at all elTential to it. It may be tacit,
and not expreffed. Nay, it is well known that men may judge
contrary to what they affirm or deny ; the definition therefore mud
be underftood of mental affirmation or denial, which indeed is
only another name for judgment.

2. Affirmation and denial is very often the expreffion of tefti-
mony, which is a different a(fl of the mind, and ought to be di-
flinguiflied from judgment.

A judge afks of a ivitnefs what he knows of fuch a matter to
which he was an eye or ear witnefs. He anfwers, by affirming or
denying fomething. But his anfwer does not exprefs his judgment ;
it is his teftimony. Again, I afk a man his opinion in a matter
of fcience or of criticifm. His anfwer is not teftimony ; it is the
expreffion of his judgment.

Teftimony is a focial adl, and it is effential to it to be exprefled
by words or figns. A tacit teftimony is a contradidlion : But there
is no contradi«5lion in a tacit judgment; it is complete without be-
ing expreffed.

In teftimony a man pledges his veracity for what he affirms ; fo
that a falfe teftimony is a lie : But a wrong judgment is not a lie;
it is only an error.

I believe, in all languages teftimony and judgment are expreffed
by the fame form of fpeech. A propoficion affirmative or nega-
tive, with a verb in what is called the indicative mood, expreffes
both. To diftinguifti them by the form of fpeech, it would be
neceffary that verbs ftiould have two indicative moods, one for tefti-
mony, and another to exprefs judgment. I know not that this is

found

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 499

found in. any language. And the reafon is, (not furcly that the ^CHAP. I.
vulgar cannot diftinguifh the two, for every man knows the dif-
ference between a lie and an error of judgment), but that, fromi
the matter and circumftances, we can eafily fee whether a man in-
tends to give his teftimony, or barely to exprefs his judgment.

Although men muft have judged in many cafes before tribunals
of juftice were ere<5led, yet it is very probable that there were tri-
bunals before men began to fpeculate about judgment, and that
the word may be borrowed from the pradlice of tribunals. As a
judge, after taking the proper evidence, paffes fentence in a caufe,
and that fentence is called his judgment; fo the mind, with regard
to whatever is true or falle, paffes fentence, or determines accord-
ing to the evidence that appears. Some kinds of evidence leave no
room for doubt. Sentence is paffed immediately, without feeking
or hearing any contrary evidence, becaufe the thing is certain and
notorious. In other cafes, there is room for weighing evidence on
both fides before fentence is paffed. The analogy between a tri-
bunal of juflice and this inward tribunal of the mind, is too ob-
vious to efcape the notice of any man who ever appeared before a
judge. And it is probable, that the vtord judgment^ as well as
many other words we ufe in fpeaking of this operation of mind,
are grounded on this analogy.

Having premifed thefe things, that it may be clearly underflood
what I mean by judgment, I proceed to make fomc general obfer-
vations concerning it.

FirJ}^ Judgment is an adl of the mind fpecifically different from
fimple apprehenfion, or the bare conception of a thing. It would
be unneceffary to obferve this, if fome Philofophers had not been
led by their theories to a contrary opinion.

Although there can be no judgment without a conception of the
things about which we judge; yet conception may be without any

R r r 2 , judgment.

500 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. I. judgment, j udgment can be expreffed by a propofition only, and
a propofition is a complete fentence ; but fimple apprehenfion may
be exprelTed by a word or words, which make no complete fen-
tence. When fimple apprehenfion is employed about a propofition,
every man knows that it is one thing to apprehend a propofition,
that is, to conceive what it means ; but it is quite another thing
to judge it t;9, ])f true or falfe.

It is felf-evidcnt, that every judgment mufl be either true or
falfe ; but fimple apprehenfioq or conception can neither bq true
nor falfe, as was fhewn before.

One judgment may be contradidlory to another ; and it is im-
pollible for a man to have two judgments at the fame time, which
he perceives to be contradidlory. But contradidlory propofitions
may be conceived at the fame time without any difficulty. That
the fun is greater than the earth, and that the fun is not greater
than the earth, are contradidory propofitions. He that apprehends
the meaning of one, apprehends the meaning of both. But it is
impoflible for him to judge both to be true at the fame time. He
knows that if the one is true, the other muft be falfe. For. thefe
reafons, I hold it to be certain, that judgment and fimple appre-
henfion are adls of the mind fpecifically different.

Secondly, There are notions or ideas that ought to be referred to
the faculty of judgment as their fource ; becaufe, if we had not
that faculty, they could not enter into our minds ; and to thofe
that have that faculty, and are capable of reflecting upon its ope-
rations, they are obvious and familiar.

Among thcfe we may reckon the notion of judgment itfelfj the
notions of a propofition, of its fubjed, predicate, and copula ; of
affirmation and negation, of true and falfe, of knowledge, belief,
difbelief, opinion, afTent, evidence. From no fource could we ac-
quire thefe notions, but from refle(5llng upon our ju4gments. Rcr-

lations

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. ~ 501

lations of things make one great clafs of our notions or ideas ; and ^CHAP. l
we cannot have the idea of any relation without fome exercife of
judgment, as will appear afterwards.

'Thirdly ^ In perfons come to years of underftanding, judgment
necefTariiy accompanies all fenfation, perception by thefenfes, con-
fcioufnefs, and memory, but not conception.

I reflridl this to perfons come to the years of underflanding, be-
caufe it may be a queftion, whether infants, in the firft period of
life, have any judgment or belief at all. The fame queftion may
be put with regard to brutes and fome idiots. This queftion is
foreign to the prefent fubjed ; and I fay nothing here about it,
but fpeak only of perfons who have the exercife of judgment.

In them it is evident, that a man who feels pain, judges and be-
lieves that he is really pained. The man who perceives an obje<5l,
believes that it exifts, and is what he diftindly perceives it to be ;
nor is it in his power to avoid fuch; judgment. And the like may
be faid of memory, and of confcioufnefs. Whether judgment ought
to be called a neceflary concomitant of thefe operations, or rather
a part or ingredient of them, I do not difpute ; but it is certain,
that all of them are accompanied with a determination that fome-
thing is true or falfe, and a confequent belief. If this determina-
tion be not judgment, it is an operation that has got no name; for
it is not fimple apprehenfion, neither is it reafoning ; it is a men-
tal affirmation or negation ; it may be exprcfled by a propofi-
tion affirmative or negative, and it is accompanied with the firmeft
belief. Thefe are the charadleriftics of judgment ; and I muft call
it judgment, till I can find another name to it.

The judgments we form, are either of things neceflary, or of
things contingent. That three times three is nine ; that the whole
is greater than a part ; are judgments about things neccfTary. Our

aflent

502

ESSAY VI.

qHAP. I. ^ affent to fuch neceflfary propofitions is not grounded upon any ope-
ration of fenfe, of memory, or of confcioufncfs, nor does it re-
quire their concurrence ; it is unaccompanied by any other opera-
tion but that of conception, which mull accompany all judgment;
we may therefore call this judgment of things necelTary pure judg-
ment. Our judgment of things contingent muft always reft: upon
fome other operation of the mind, fuch as fenfe, or memory, or
confcioufncfs, or credit in teflimony, which is itfelf grounded
upon fenfe.

That I now write upon a table covered with green cloth, is a
contingent event, which I judge to be moft undoubtedly true. My
judgment is grounded upon my perception, and is a necelTary con-
comitant or ingredient of my perception. That I dined with fuch
a company yefterday, I judge to be true, becaufe I remember it ;
and my judgment necelTarily goes along with this remembrance,
or makes a part of it.

There are many forms of fpeech in common language which
fliew that the fenfcs, memory and confcioufncfs, are confidered as
judging faculties. We fay that a man judges of colours by his
eye, of founds by his ear. We fpeak of the evidence of fenfe,
the evidence of memory, the evidence of confcioufncfs. Evidence
is the ground of judgment, and when we fee evidence, it is im-
poffible not to judge.

When we fpeak of feeing or remembering any thing, we in-
deed hardly ever add that we judge it to be true. But the reafon
of this appears to be, that fuch an addition would be mere fuper-
fluity of fpeech, becaufe every one knows, that what I fee or re-
member, I muft judge to be true, and cannot do otherwife.

And for the fame reafon, in fpeaking of any thing that is felf-
evident or ftridly demonftrated, we do not fay that we judge it
to be true. This would be fuperfluity of fpeech, becaufe every

man

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 503

man knows that we niufl: judge that to be true which we hold chap, i.
felf-evident or demonftrated.

When you fay you faw fuch a thing, or that you difliindlly re-
member it, or when you fay of any propofition that it is felf-evi-
dent, or flri^ly demonftrated, it would be ridiculous after this to
ajDk whether you judge it to be true ; nor would it be lefs ridicu- .
lous in you to inform us that you do. It would be a fuperfluity
of fpeech of the fame kind as if, not content with faying that
you faw fuch an obje(5l, you lliould add that you faw it with
your eyes.

There is therefore good reafon why, in fpeaking or writing,
judgment fliould not be exprefsly mentioned, when all men know
it to be neceflarily implied ; that is, when there can be no doubt.
In fuch cafes, we barely mention the evidence. But when the
evidence mentioned leaves room for doubt, then, without any
fuperfluity or tautology, we fay we judge the thing to be fo, be-
caufe this is not implied in what was faid before.- A woman with
child never fays, that, going fuch a journey, fhe carried her child
along with her. We know that, while it is in her womb, ihe
muft carry it along vvith her. There are fome operations of mind
that may be faid to carry judgment in their womb, and can no
naore leave it behind them than the pregnant woman can leave
her child. Therefore, in fpeaking of fuch operations, it is not
expreffed.

Perhaps this manner of fpeaking may have led Philofophers into
the opinion, that in perception by the fenfes, in memory, and in
confcioufnefs, there is no judgment at all. Becaufe it is not men-
tioned in fpeaking of thefe faculties, they conclude that it does
not accompany them ; that they are only different modes of fimple
apprehenfion, or of acquiring ideas ; and that it is no part of
their office to judge.

I

504

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. I. I apprehend the fame caufe has led Mr Locke into a notion of
judgment which I take to be pecuHar to him. He thinks that the
mind has two faculties converfant about truth and falfehood.
Firjl^ knowledge; -iXid^ fecondly^ judgment. In the firft, the per-
ception of the agreement or difagreement of the ideas is certain.
In the fecond, it is not certain, but probable only.

According to this notion of judgment, it is not by judgment

that I perceive that two and three make five ; it is by the faculty

' of knowledge. I apprehend there can be no knowledge without

judgment, though there may be judgment without that certainty

which we commonly call knowledge.

Mr Locke, in another place of his EfTay, tells us, " That the
" notice we have by our fenfes of the exiftence of things without
" us, though not altogether fo certain as our intuitive knowledge,
" or the dedudlions of our reafon about abftradt ideas, yet is an
" affurance that deferves the name of knowledge." I think, by
this account of it, and by his definitions before given of know-
ledge and judgment, it deferves as well the name oi judgment.

That I may avoid difputes about the meaning of words, I wifh
the reader to underfland, that 1 give the name of judgment to
every determination of the mind concerning what is true or what
is falfe. This, I think, is what Logicians, from the days of
Aristotle, have called judgment. Whether it be called one fa-
culty, as I think it has always been, or whether a Philofopher
chufes to fplit it into two, feems not very material. And if it be
granted, that by our fenfes, our memxjry and confcioufnefs, we
not only have ideas or fimple apprehenfions, but form determina-
tions concerning what is true, and what is falfe j whether thefe
determinations ought to be called knowledge or judgment ^ is of
fmall moment.

The judgments grounded upon the evidence of fenfe, of memory,

and

OFJUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 505

and of confcioufnefs, put all men upon a level. The Phllofopher, ^CHAF. i.
with regard to thefe, has no prerogative above the illiterate, or even
above the favage.

Their reliance upon the teflimony of thefe faculties is as firm
and as well grounded as his. His fuperiority is in judgments of
another kind ; in judgments about things abfl;ra<fl and neceffary.
And he is unwilling to give the name of judgment to that where-
in the mod ignorant and unimproved of the fpecies are his equals.

But Philofophers have never been able to give any definition
of judgment which does not apply to the determinations of our
fenfes, our memory, and confcioufnefs, nor any definition of
fimple apprehenfion which can comprehend thofe determinations.

Our judgments of this kind are purely the gift of Nature, nor
do they admit of improvement by culture. The memory of one
man may be more tenacious than that of another ; but both rely
with equal affurance upon what they diftindtly remember. One
man's fight may be more acute, or his feeling more delicate than
that of another ; but both give equal credit to the diftin<5l tefli-
mony of their fight and touch.

And as we have this belief by the conftitution of our nature,
without any effort of our own, fo no effort of ours can overturn it.

The Sceptic may perhaps perfuade himfelf in general, that he
has no ground to believe his fenfes or his memory : But, in parti-
cular cafes that are interefling, his difbelief vanifhes, and he finds
himfelf under a neceffity of believing both.

Thefe judgments may, in the flriclefl fenfe, be called Judgmenis
of nature. Nature has fubjedled us to them whether we will or
not. They are neither got, nor can they be loft by any ufe or
abufe of our faculties j and it is evidently neceffary for our pre-

S f f lervation

5o6 \ ESSAY VI.

■CHAP. I. fervation that it fhould be fo. For if belief in our fenfes and in
our memory were to be learned by culture, the race of men would
perifh before they learned this leflbn. It is neceflary to all men
for their being and prcfervation, and therefore is unconditionally
given to all men by the Author of Nature.

I acknowledge, that if we were to reft in thofe judgments of
Nature of which we now fpeak, without building others upon
them, they would not entitle us to the denomination of reafonable
beings. But yet they ought not to be defpifed, for they are the
foundation upon which the grand fuperftrudlure of human know-
ledge muft be raifed. And as in other fuperftrudures the founda-
tion is commonly overlooked, fo it has been in this. The more
fublime attainments of the human mind have attra<5led the atten-
tion of Philofophers, while they have beflowed but a carelefs glance
upon the humble foundation on which the whole fabric refts.

A fourth obfervation is, that fome exercife of judgment is ne-
ceflary in the formation of all abllradt and general conceptions,
whether more fimple or more complex ; in dividing, in defining,
and in general, in forming all clear and difl:in<5l conceptions of
things, which are the only fit materials of reafoning.

Thefe operations are allied to each other, and therefore I bring
them under one obfervation. They arc more allied to our rational
nature than thofe mentioned in the laft obfervation, and therefore
are confidered by thecofelves.

That I may not be miftaken, it may be obferved, that I do not
fay that abftradl notions, or other accurate notions of things, after
they have been formed, cannot be barely conceived without any
exercife of judgment about them. I doubt not that they may :
But what I fay, is, that, in their formation in the mind at firft>
there mufl be fbrae exercife of judgment.

It

OFJUDGMENT IN GENERAL, 507

It is impoffible to diftinguifh the different attributes belonging CHAP. I.
to the fame fubjedl, without judging that they are really different
and diftinguifhable, and that they have that relation to the fubje(5l
which Logicians exprefs, by faying that they may be predicated of
it. We cannot generalife, without judging that the fame attribute
does or may belong to many individuals. It has been (hewn, that
our fimplefl general notions are formed by thefe two operations of
diflinguifhing and generalifing ; judgment therefore is exercifed in
forming the fimpleft general notions.

In thofe that are more complex, and which have been fhewn to
be formed by combining the more fimple, there is another a<5l of
the judgment required ; for fuch combinations are not made at
random, but for an end; andjudgment is employed in fitting them
to that end. We form complex general notions for conveniency
of arranging our thoughts in difcourfe and reafoning-; and there-
fore, of an infinite number of combinations that might be form-
ed, we chufe only thofe that are ufeful and neceffary.

That judgment mufl be employed in dividing as well as in diflin^
guifhing, appears evident. It is one thing to divide a fubjedt pro-
perly, another to cut it in pieces. Hoc non eji dividere, fed frangere
renif faid Cicero, when he cenfured an improper divifion of Epi-
curus. Reafon has difcovered rules of divifion, which have been
known to Logicians more than two thoufand years.

There are rules like wife of definition of no lefs antiquity and
authority. A man may no doubt divide or define properly with-
out attending to the rules, or even without knowing them. But
this can only be, when he has judgment to perceive that to be right
in a particular cafe, which the rule determines to be right in all
cafes.

I add in general, that, without fome degree of judgment, we
can form no accurate and diflin6l notions of things ; fo that, one

S f f 2 province

5o8 ESSAY VI.

CHAPM. province of judgment is, to aid us in forming clear and diftind
conceptions of things, which are the only fit materials for reafoning.

This will probably appear to be a paradox to Philofophers, who
have always confidered the formation of ideas of every kind as be-
longing to fimple apprehenfion ; and that the fole province of judg-
ment is to put them together in affirmative or negative propofitions;
and therefore it requires fome confirmation.

Firji^ I think it neceflfarily follows, from what has been already
faid in this obfervation. For if, without fome degree of judgment,
a man can neither diftinguifh, nor divide, nor define, nor fortn
any general notion, fimple or complex, he furely, without fome
degree of judgment, cannot have in his mind the materials necef-
fary to reafoning.

There cannot be any propofition in language which does not in-
volve fome general conception. The propofition, that I ex'ijl, which
Des Cartes thought the firft of all truths, and the foundation of
all knowledge, cannot be conceived without the conception of ex-
iftence, one of the moft abftradl general conceptions. A man can-
not believe his own exiftence, or the exiftence of any thing he
fees or remembers, until he has fo much judgment as to diftin-
guilh things that really exift from things which are only conceived.
He fees a man fix feet high ; he conceives a man fixty feet high ;
he judges the firft objecfl to exift, becaufe he fees it ; the fecond he
does not judge to exift, becaufe he only conceives it. Now, I
would a(k. Whether he can attribute exiftence to the firft objed,
and not to the fecond, without knowing what exiftence means ? It
is impoffible.

How early the notion of exiftence enters into the mind, I can-
not determine ; but it muft certainly be in the mind, as foon as we
call affirm of any thing, with underftanding, that it exifts.

In

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 509

In every other propofition, the predicate at leaft mufl: be a gene- ^CHAP. I.
ral notion ; a predicable and an univerfal being one and the lame.
Befides this, every propofition either afijrms or denies. And no
man can have a diftindl conception of a propofition, who does not
underftand diftindly the meaning of affirming or denying : Bvit
thefe are very general conceptions, and, as was before obferved,
are derived from judgment, as their fource and origin..

I am fenfible that a llrong objedlion may be made to this reafon-
ing, and that it, may feem to lead to an abfurdity, or a contradic-
tion. It may be faid, that every judgment is a mental affirmation
or negation. If therefore, fovne previous exercife of judgment be
necelTary to underftand what is meant by affirmation or negation,
the exercife of judgment muft go before any judgment, which is.
abfurd* ;,,

.bliil-
In like manner, every judgment may be exprefled by a propofi-
tion, and a propofition muil be conceived before we can judge of
it. If therefore we cannot conceive the meaning of a propofition
without a previous exercife of judgment, it follows that judgment
muft be previous to the conceptioji of any propofition, and at the
fame time that the conception of a propofition muft be previous to.
all judgment, which is a contradi(5lion.

The reader may pleafe to obferve, that I have limited what !•
have faid to diftindl conception, and fome degree of judgment;,
and it is by ihis means I hope to avoid this labyrinth of abfurdity
and contradi(5lion. The faculties of conception and judgment have.
an infancy and a maturity as man has. What I have faid is limited .
to their mature ftate. I believe in their infaiit ftate they are very
weak and indiftin<5i.; and that, by imperceptible degrees, they
grow to maturity, each giving aid to the other, and receiving aid
from it. But which of them firft began this friendly intercourfe,
is beyond my ability to determine. It is like the queftion concern-
in^ . l^ bix^ ajad the egg.
. ■ "" ' liu

510

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. I. In the prefenc (late of things, it is true that every bird comes
from an egg, and every egg from a bird ; and each may be faid
to be previous to the other. But if we go back to the origin of
things, there muft have been fome bird that did not come from
any egg^ or fome egg that did not come from any bird.

In hke manner, in the mature ftate of man, diftindt conception
of a propofition fuppofes fome previous exercife of judgment, and
diflindl judgment fuppofes diflinfl conception. Each may truly
be faid to come from the other, as the bird from the egg, and the
egg from the bird. But if we trace back this fucceflion to its ori^
gin, that is, to the firft propofition that was ever conceived by the
man, and the firfl: judgment he ever formed, I determine nothing
about them, nor do I know in what order, or how they were pro-
duced, any more than how the bones grow in the womb of her
that is with child.

The firft exercife of thefe faculties of conception and judgment
is hid, like the fources of the Nile, in an unknown region.

The necefllty of fome degree of judgment to clear and diftindl
conceptions of things, may, I think, be illuftrated by this fimilitude.

An artift, fuppofe a Carpenter, cannot work in his art without
tools, and thefe tools mull be made by art. The exercife of the
art therefore is neceflary to make the tools, and the tools are ne-
ceflary to the exercife of the art. There is the fiime appearance of
contradidlion, as in what I have advanced concerning the necefllty
of fome degree of judgment, in order to form clear and diftincfl
conceptions of things. Thefe are the tools we muft ufe in judging
and in reafoning, and without them muft make very bungling
•work ; yet thefe tools cannot be made without fome exercife of
judgment.

The neceffity of fome degree of judgment in forming accurate

and

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. jri

and diflincn: notions of things will farther appear, if wc confider CHAP. I.
attentively what notions we can form, without any aid of judg-
ment, of the objecfls of fenfe, of the operations of our own minds,
or of the relations of things.

To begin with the objects of fenfc. It is acknowledged on all
hands, that the firfl notions we have of fenfible objedls are got by
the external fenfes only, and probably before judgment is brought
forth ; but thefe firft notions are neither fimple, nor are they accu-
rate and diftindl : They are grofs and indiftindt, and like the chaos ^
a rudts indigeftaque moles. Before we can have any diftindt notion
of this mafs, it muft be analyfcd ; the heterogeneous parts mufl be
feparated in our conception, and the fimple elements, which before
lay hid in the common mafs, mufl firft be diftinguifhed, and then
put together into one whole.

In this way it is that we form diftindl notions even of the objedls
of fenfe ; but this analyfis and compofition, by habit, becomes io
eafy, and is performed fo readily, that we arc apt to overlook it,
and to impute the diftindl notion we have formed of the objedl to
the fenfes alone ; and this we are the more prone to do, becaufe,
when once we have diftinguifhed the fenfible qualities of the obje(fl
from one another, the fenfe gives teftimony to each of them.

You perceive, for inftance, an objedl white, round, and a foot
in diameter : I grant that you perceive all thefe attributes of the
objedl by fenfe; but if you had not been able to diftinguifh the
colour from the figure, and both from the magnitude, your fenfes
would only have given you one complex and confufed notion of
all thefe mingled together.

A man who is able to fay with underftanding, or to determine
in his own mind, that this objedl is white, muft have diftinguiflied
whitenefs from other attributes, if he has not made this diftinc-
tion, he does not underftand what he fays.

Suppofe

512 ESSAY VI.

^^^^- ^' , Suppofe a cube of brafs to be prefented at the fame time to a
child of a year old and to a man. The regularity of the figure
will attradl the attention of both. Both have the fenfes of fight
and of touch in equal perfedlion ; and therefore, if any thing be
difcovered in this objedl by the man, which cannot be difcovered
by the child, it mull be owing, not to the fenfes, but to fome other
faculty which the child has not yet attained.

jFVr/?, then, the man caneafilydiftinguifla the body from the furface
which terminates it; this the child cannot do. Secondly^ The man
can perceive, that this furface is made up of fix planes of the fame
figure and magnitude ; the child cannot difcover this. 'Thirdly^ The
man perceives, that each of thefe planes has four equal fides, and
four equal angles ; and that the oppofite fides of each plane, and
the oppofite planes are parallel.

It will furely be allowed, that a man of ordinary judgment may
obferve all this in a cube which he makes an objed of contempla-
tion, and takes time to confider; that he may give the name of
a fquare, to a plane terminated by four equal fides and four equal
angles ; and the name of a cube, to a folid terminated by fix equal
fquares ; all this is nothing elfe but analyfing the figure of the
object prefented to his fenfes into its fimplefl elements, and again
compounding it of thofe elements.

By this analyfis and compofition, two effe<5ts are produced.
Firjl^ From the one complex objedl which his fenfes prefented,
though one of the mod fimple the fenfes can prefent, he educes
many fimple and diftind: notions of right lines, angles, plain fur-
' face, folid, equality, parallelifm ; notions which the child has not
yet faculties to attain. Secondly^ When he confiders the cube as
compounded of thefe elements, put together in a certain order, he
has then, and not before, a diftin<5l and fcientific notion of a cube.
The child neither conceives thofe elements, nor in what order
they mull be put together, in order to make a cube j and therefore

has

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 5»3

has no accurate notion of a cube, which can make it a fubjed of ,^
reafoning.

Whence I think we may conclude, that the notion which we
have from the fenfes alone, even of the fimplefl; objedls of fenfe, is
indiftindl and incapable of being either defcribed or reafoned upon,
until it is analyfed into its fimple elements, and confidered as com-
pounded of thofe elements.

If we fhould apply this reafoning to more complex objedls of
fenfe, the conclufion would be ftill more evident. A dog may be
taught to turn a jack, but he can never be taught to have a diftindl
notion of a jack. He fees every part as well as a man ; but the re-
lation of the parts to one another, and to the whole, he has not
judgment to comprehend.

A diflindl notion of an objed, even of fenfe, is never got in an
inftant ; but the fenfe performs its office in an inftant. Time is
not required to fee it better, but to analyfe it, to diftinguifh the
different parts, and their relation to one another, and to the whole.

Hence it is, that when any vehement paffion or emotion hinders
the cool application of judgment, we get no diflindl notion of an
objedl, even though the fenfe be long dire(5led to it. A man who
is put into a panic, by thinking he fees a ghofl, may flare at it
long, without having any diflindl notion of it ; it is his under-
ftanding, and not his fenfe that is dlllurbed by his horror. If he
can lay that alide, judgment immediately enters upon its office,
and 'examines the length and breadth, the colour, and figure, and
diflance of the objei6l. Of thefe, while his panic lafled, he had
no diflindl notion, though his eyes were open all the time.

When the eye of fenfe is open, but that of judgment fhut by a
panic, or any violent emotion that engroffes the mind, we fee
things confufedly, and probably much in the fame manner that
brutes and perfedl idiots do, and infants before the ufe of judgment.

T 1 1 There

CHAP. I.

5*4

K S S A Y VI.

CHAP. T. There are therefore notions of the objedls of fenfe which arc
grofs and indiftindl ; and there are others that are diftinifl and fci-
enrific. The former may be got from the fenfes alone ; but the
latter cannot be obtained without fome degree of judgment.

The clear and accurate notions which geometry prefents to us
of a point, a right line, an angle, a fquare, a circle, of ratios di-
redl and inverfe, and others of that kind, can find no admittance
into a mind that has not fome degree of judgment. They are not
properly ideas of the fenfes, nor are they got by compounding
ideas of the fenfes ; but, by analyfing the ideas or notions we get
by the fenfes into their fimpleft elements, and again combining
thefe elements into various, accurate, and elegant forms, which the
fenfes never did nor can exhibit.

Had Mr Hume attended duly to this, it ought to have prevent-
ed a very bold attempt, which he has profecuted through four-
teen pages of his Treatife of Human Nature, to prove that geo-
metry is founded upon ideas that are not exadt, and axioms that
are not precifely true.

A Mathematician might be tempted to think, that the man who
ferioufly undertakes this has no great acquaintance with geometry;
but I apprehend it is to be imputed to another caufe, to a zeal for
his own fyfkem. We fee that even men of genius may be drawn
into ftrange paradoxes, by an attachment to a favourite idol of the
underftanding, when it demands fo coftly a facrifice.

We Proteftants think, that the devotees of the Roman church
pay no fmall tribute to her authority, whent^y renounce their
five fenfes in obedience to her decrees. Mr Hume's devotion to his
fy ftem carries him even to trample upon mathematical demonftration.

The fundamental articles of his fyflem are, that all the percep-
tions of tJie human mind are either impreffions or ideas ; and that

ideas

OF JUDGMENt IN GENERAL. 515

ideas are only faint copies of impreffions. The idea of a right line, CHAP. L

therefore, is only a faint copy of fome line that has been feen, or

felt by touch j and the faint copy cannot be more perfed than the

original. Now of fuch right lines, it is evident, that the axioms

of geometry are not precifely true ; for two lines that are flraight

to our fight or touch may include a fpace, or they may meet in

more points than one. If therefore we cannot form any notion of

a flraight line more accurate than that which we have from the

fenfes of fight and touch, geometry has no folid foundation. If,

on the other hand, the geometrical axioms are precifely true, the

idea of a right line is not copied from any imprefllon of fight or

touch, but mull have a different origin, and a more p€rfe(5l ftandard.

As the Geometrician, by refledling only upon the extenfion and
figure of matter, forms a fet of notions more accurate and fcienti-
fic than any which the fenfes exhibit ; fo the natural Philofopher,
refledling upon other attributes of matter, forms another fet, fuch
as thofe of denfity, quantity of matter, velocity, momentum, flui-
dity, elafticity, centres of gravity, and of ofcillation. Thefe no-
tions are accurate and fcientific ; but they cannot enter into a mind
that has not fome degree of judgment, nor can we make them intel-
ligible to children, until they have fome ripenefs of underftanding.

In navigation, the notions of latitude, longitude, courfe, lee-
way, cannot be made intelligible to children ; and fo it is with re-
gard to the terms of every fcience, and of every art about which
we can reafon. They have had their five fenfes as perfedl as men,
for years before they are capable of diflinguifhing, comparing, and
perceiving the relations of things, fo as to be able to form fuch
notions. They acquire the intelledlual powers by a flow progrefs,
and by imperceptible degrees, and by means of them learn to form
diftiindl and accurate notions of^hings, which the fenfes could ne-
ver have imparted.

Having faid fo much of the notions we get from the fenfes alone

T t t 2 of

5i6 ESSAY VI.

CHAP, i.^ q£ ^i^g objecfts of fenfe, let us next confider what notions we can

^ ■■■■ '^ ■■

have from confcioufnefs alone of the operations of our minds.

Mr Locke very properly calls confcioufnefs an internal fenfe.
It gives the like immediate knowledge of things in the mind, that
is, of our own thoughts and feelings, as the fenfes give us of things
external. There is this difference, however, that an external ob-
jedl may be at reft, and the fenfe may be employed about it for
fome time. But the objedls of confcioufnefs are never at reft ;
the ftream of thought flows like a river, without ftopping a mo-
ment ; the whole train of thought pafles in fucceflion under the
eye, of confcioufnefs, which is always employed about the prefent.
But is it confcioufnefs that analyfes complex operations, diftin-
guifhes their different ingredients, and combines them in diftindl
parcels under general names ? This furely is not the work of con-
fcioufnefs, nor can it be performed without reflecftion, recolleifling
and judging of what we were confcious of, and diftindlly remem-
ber. This reflection does not appear in children. Of all the
powers of the mind, it feems to be of the lateft growth, whereas
confcioufnefs is coeval with the earlieft.

Confcioufnefs, being a kind of internal fenfe, can no more give
us diftindl and accurate notions of the operations of our minds,
than the external fenfes can give of external obje<fls. Reflecftion
upon the operations of our minds is the fame kind of operation
with that by which we form diftindl notions of external objedts.
They differ not in their nature, but in this only, that one is em-
ployed about external, and the other about internal objedls ; arui
both may, with equal propriety, be called reflection.

Mr Locke has reftri<5led the word reflection to that which is em-
ployed about the operations of our minds, without any authority,
as I think, from cuftom, the arbiter of language : For furely I may
refleCl upon what I have feen or heard, as well as upon what I
have thought. The word, in its proper and common meaning, is

equally

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 517

equally applicable to objeds of fenfe, and to objeds of confciouf- ^^CHAP. i.
nefs. He has likewife confounded refiedion with confcioufnefs,
and feems not to have been aware that they are different powers,
and appear at very different periods of life.

If that eminent Philofopher had been aware of thefe miflakes
about the meaning of the word refledlion, he would, I think, have
feen, that as it is by refledtion upon the operations of our own
minds that we can form any diftincl and accurate notions of them,
and not by confcioufnefs without refledion ; fo it is by refledlion
upon the objeds of fenfe, and not by the fenfes without refledion,
that we can form dlllind notions of them. Refledion upon any
thing, whether external or internal, makes it an objed of our in-
telledual powers, by which we furvey it on all fides, and form
fuch judgments about it as appear to be jufl: and true.

I propofed, in the third place, to confider our notions of the re-
lations of things: And here I think, that, without judgment, we:
cannot have any notion, of relations.

There are two ways in which we get the notion of relations.
The firfl is, by comparing the related objeds, when we have before,
had the conception of both. By this comparifon, we perceive the
relation, either immediately, or by a procefs of reafoning. That
my foot is longer than my finger, I perceive immediately ; and
that three is the half of fix. This immediate perception is imme*
diate and intuitive judgment. That the angles at the bafe of an
ifofceles triangle are equal, I perceive by a procefs of reafoning, ,
in which it will be acknowledged there is judgment.

Another way in which we get the notion of relations (which
feems not to have occurred to Mr Locke) is, when, by attention
to one of the related objeds, we perceive or judge, that it muft, .
from its nature, have a certain relation to fomething elfe, which
before perhaps we never thought off and thus our attention to

one

5iS ESSAY VI.

CHAP. I.

one of the related objecfls produces the notion of a correlate, and
of a certain relation between them.

Thus, when I attend to colour, figure, weight, I cannot help
judging thefe to be qualities which cannot exift without a fubje<5l ;
that is, fomething which is coloured, figured, heavy. If I had
not perceived fuch things to be qualities, I fhould never have had
any notion of their fubje(5l, or of their relation to it.

By attending to the operations of thinking, memory, reafoning,
we perceive or judge, that there muft be fomething which thinks,
remembers, and reafons, which we call the mind. When we at-
tend to any change that happens in Nature, judgment informs us,
that there muft be a caufe of this change, which had power to pro-
duce it ; and thus we get the notions of caufe and efFedl, and of
the relation between them. When we attend to body, we perceive
that it cannot exift without fpace ; hence we get the notion of
fpace, (which is neither an objedl of fenfe nor of confcioufnefs),
and of the relation which bodies have to a certain portion of un-
limited fpace, as their place.

I apprehend, therefore, that all our notions of relations may
more prajierly be afcribed to judgment as their fource and origin,
than to any other power of the mind. We muft firft perceive re-
lations by our judgment, before we can conceive them without
judging of them ; as we muft firft perceive colours by fight, be-
fore we can conceive them without feeing them. 1 think Mr
Locke, when he comes to fpeak of the ideas of relations, does
not fay that they are ideas of fenfation or refledlion, but only that
they terminate in and are concerned about ideas of fenfation or
refle<3;ion.

The notions of unity and number are fo abftradt, that it is im-
poflible they Ihould enter into the mind until it has fome degree
of judgment. We fee with what difficulty, and how flowly, chil-
dren

OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 519

dren learn to ufe, with underflanding, the names even of fmall ^CHAP. L
numbers, and how they exult in this acquifition when they have
attained it. Every number is conceived by the relation which it
bears to unity, or to known combinations of units j and upon that
account, as well as on account of its abftradl nature, all diftindl
notions of it require fome degree of judgment.

In its proper place, I fhall have occafion to fliow, that judgment
is an ingredient in all determinations of tafte ; in all moral deter-
minations ; and in many of our paffions and affedlions. So that
this operation, after we come to have any exercife of judgment,
mixes with moft of the operations of our minds, and, in analy-
flng them, cannot be overlooked without confufion and error.

CHAP. XL

Of Common Senfe.

TH E word fenfe^ in common language, feems to have a dif-
ferent meaning from that which it has in the writings of
Philofophers ; and thofe different meanings are apt to be confound-
ed, and to oGcafion embarraffment and error.

Not to go back to ancient philofophy upon this point, modern
Philofophers confider fenfe as a power that has nothing to do with
judgment. Senfe they confider as the power by which we re-
ceive certain ideas or impreflions from ohjedls ; and judgment as
the power by which we compare thofe ideas, and perceive their
neceffary agreements and difagreements.

The external fenfes give us the idea of colour, figure, found, and
other qualities of body, primary or fecondary. Mr I-ocke gave
the name of an internal fenfe to confcioufnefs, becaufe by it we

have

520 E S S A Y VI.

p^^^- ^^'j have the ideas of thought, memory, reafonlng, and other operations
of our own minds. Dr Hutcheson of .Glafgow, conceiving that
we have fimple and original ideas which cannot be imputed either
to the external fenfes, or to confcioufnefs, introduced other internal
lenfes; fuch as the fenfe of harmony, the fenfe of beauty, and the
moral fenfe. Ancient Philofophers alfo fpake of internal fenfes, of
which memory was accounted one.

But all thefe fenfes, whether external or internal, have been re-
prefented by Philofophers, as the means of furnifliing our minds
with ideas, without including any kind of judgment. Dr Hut-
cheson defines a fenfe to be a determination of the mind to receive
any idea from the prefence of an objedt independent on our will.

" By this term (fenfe) Philofophers in general have denominated
*' thofe faculties, in confequence of which we are liable to feelings
" relative to ourfelves only, and from which they have not pre-
" tended to draw any conclufions concerning the nature of things ;
" whereas truth is not relative, but abfolute and real. Dr Priest-
i.y's Exam, of Dr Reid, ?s'c. page 123.

On the contrary, in common language, fenfe always implies
judgment. A man of fenfe is a man of judgment. Good fenfe is
good judgment. Nonfenfe is what is evidently contrary to right
judgment. Common fenfe is that degree of judgment which is
common to men with whom we can converfe and tranfa<5l bufinefs.

Seeing and hearing by Philofophers are called fenfes, becaufe we
have ideas by them ; by the vulgar they are called fenfes, becaufe
we judge by them. We judge of colours by the eye ; of founds by
the ear; of beauty and deformity by tafte; of right and wrong in
condu6l, by our moral fenfe or confcience.

Sometimes Philofophers, who reprefent it as the fole province of
(cnfe to furnifh us with ideas, fall unawares into the popular opi-
nion.

OF COMMON SENSE.

521

<(

nion, that they are judging faculties. Thus Locke, book 4. CHAP. ir.
chap. II. " And of this, (that the quaUty or accident of colour
" doth really exift, and hath a being without me,) the greateft
afTurance I can poffibly have, and to which my faculties can at-
" tain, is the teftimony of my eyes, which are the proper and fole
" judges of this thing."

This popular meaning of the word fenfe is not peculiar to the
Englilli language. The correfponding words in Greek, Latin, and
I believe in all the European languages, have the fame latitude.
The Latin vfOvA^ fentircy fententia, fenfa^ fenfus^ from the laft of
which the Englilh word fenfe is borrowed, exprefs judgment or
opinion, and are applied indifferently to objedls of external fenfe,
of tafte, of morals, and of the underftanding.

I cannot pretend to affign the reafon why a word, which is no
term of art, which is familiar in common converfation, fhould have
fo different a meaning in philofophical writings. I fhall only ob-
ferve, that the philofophical meaning correfponds perfedly with the
account which Mr Locke and other modern Philofophers give of
judgment. For if the fole province of the fenfes, external and in-
ternal, be to furnilh the mind with the ideas about which we judge
and reafon, it feems to be a natural confequence, that the fole pro-
vince of judgment fliould be to compare thofe ideas, and to perceive
their neceflary relations.

Thefe two opinions feem to be fo connecfled, that one may have
been the caufe of the other. I apprehend, however, that if both
be true, there is no room left for any knowledge or judgment,
either of the real exiftence of contingent things, or of their con-
tingent relations.

To return to the popular meaning of the word fenfe. I believe
it would be much more difficult to find good authors who never
ufe it in that meaning, than to find fuch as do.

U u u We

522

ESSAY VL

CHAP. IL We may take Mr Pope as good authority for the meaning of an
"' Englifh word. He ufes it often, and in his Epiftle to the Earl of

Burlington, has made a little defcant upon it.

" Oft have you hinted to your brother Peer,

" A certain truth, which many buy too dear ;

** Something there is more needful than expence,

" And fomething previous ev'n to tafte, — 'tis fenfe.

" Good fenfe, which only is the gift of Heaven ;

" And though no fcience, fairly worth the-feven ;

" A light, which in yourfelf you- muft perceive,
" Jones and Le Notre have it not to give."

This inward light or fenfe is given by Heaven to different perfons
in different degrees. There is a certain degree of it which is ne-
ceffary to our being fubjedls of law and government, capable of
managing our own affairs, and anfwerable for our condudl towards
others: This is called common fenfe, becaufe it is common to all
men with whom we can tranfadl bufinefs, or call to account for
their condudl.

The laws of all civilifed nations diftlhguifli fhbfe who have thl^
gift of Heaven, from thofe who have it not. The laft may have
rights which ought not to be violated, but having no underftand-
ing in themfelves to direct their adlions, the laws appoint them to
be guided by the underftandlng of others. It is eafily difcerned by
its effects in mens adlions, in their fpeeches,.and even in their looks;
and when it is made a queflion, whether a man has this natural gift
or not, a judge or a jury, upon a fhort eonverfation with him,
can, for the moft part, determine the queftion with great affurance.

The fame degree of underftandlng which makes a man capable
of ading with common prudence in the conduct of life, makes him
capable of difcovering what is true and what is falfe in matters
that are felf-evident, and wliich he difllnftly apprehends.

All

O F C O M M O N S E N S E. 523

All knowledge, and all fcience, mud be bulk upon principles CHAP, ir.
that are felf-evident ; and of fuch principles, every man who has
common fenfe Is a competent judge, when he conceives them di-
ftlndlly. Hence it is, that difputes very often terminate in an ap-
peal to common fenfe.

"While the parties agree in the firft principles on which their ar-
guments are grounded, there is room for reafoning ; but when one
denies what to the other appears too evident to need, or to admit
of proof, reafoning feems to be at an end ; an appeal Is made to
common fenfe, and each party Is left to enjoy his own opinion.

There feems to be no remedy for this, nor any way left to dlf-
cufs fuch appeals, unlefs the decifions of common fenfe can be
brought into a code, in which all reafonable men fhall acqulefce.
This Indeed, If It be poflible, would be very defirable, and would
fupply a dcfideratum In logic ; and why {hould it be thought Im-
poffible that reafonable men fhould agree In things that are felf-
evldent ?

All that is Intended in this chapter. Is to explain the meaning of
common fenfe, that it may not be treated, as it has been by fome,
as a new principle, or as a word without any meaning. I have en-
deavoured to fliew, that fenfe, In Its mofl: common, and therefore .
its moft proper meaning, fignifies judgment, though Philofophers
often ufe It In another meaning. From this It is natural to think,
that common fenfe fhould mean common judgment j and fo it
really does.

What the preclfe limits are which divide common judgment from
what Is beyond It on the one hand, and from what falls fliort of It
on the other, may be difficult to determine ; and men may agree
In the meaning of the word who have different opinions about
thofe limits, or who even never thought of fixing them. This is
as intelligible as, that all Englifhmen fliould mean the fame thing

U u u 2 by

J24 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. II. ijy the county of York, though perhaps not a hundredth part of
them can point out its prccife limits.

Indeed, it feems to me, that common fenfe is as unambiguous a
word, and as well under flood as the county of 'York. We find it
in innumerable places in good writers; we hear it on innumerable
occafions in converfation ; and, as far as Tamable to judge, al-
ways in the fame meaning. And this is probably the reafoii why
it is fo feldom defined or explained.

Dr Johnson, in' the authorities he giveSj/.to fhew that the word
fenfe fignifies underflanding, foundnefs of fiiculties, ftrength of
natural xeafon, quotes Dr, Bentley for what may be called a de-
finition of common fenfe, though probably not intended for that
purpofe, but mentioned accidentally: " God hath endowed man-
'* kind with power and abilities, which we call natural light and
" reafon, and common fenfe." '^••r'«in

It is true, that common i^niQ is a popular, and not a fcholaftic
word ; and by moft of thofe who have treated fyftematically of
the powers of the underftanding, it is only occafionally mention-
ed, as it is by other writers. But I recolledl two philofophical
writers, who are exceptions to this remark. One is Bdffiek, who
treated largely of common fenfe, as a principle of knowledge,
above fifty years ago. The other is Biihop Berkeley, who, I think,
has laid as much ftrefs upon, common fenfe, in oppofuion to the
dodlrines of Philofophers, as any Philofopher that lias come after
him. If the reader chufes to look back to Elfay II. chap. lo. he
will be fatisfied of this, from the quotations there made for an-
other purpofe, which it is unneceflary here to repeat.

Men rarely afk what common fenfe is ; becaufe every man be-
lieves himfelf pofl'effed of it, and would take it for an imputation
upon his underftanding to be thought unacquainted with it. Yet
I remember two very eminent authors who have put this queftion ;

and

O F C O M M O N S E N S E. 5^5

and it is. not improper to hear their fentiments upon a fubjecfl fo CHAP, ii.
frequently mentioned, and fo rarely canvaffed.

It is well known, that Lord Shaftesbury gave to one of his
Treatifes th*e title of Senfus Commmns ; an EJpzy on the freedom of -wit
and humour, in a letter to a friend ; in which he puts his friend in
niind of a free converfation with fome of their friends on the fub-
jedls of morality and religion. Amidfl the different opinions ftart-
ed and maintained with great life and ingenuity, one or other would
every now and then take the liberty to appeal to common fenfe.
Every one allowed the appeal ; no one would offer to call the au-
thority of the court in queftion, till a gentleman, whofe good un-
derflanding was never yet brought in doubt, defired the company
very gravely that they would tell him what common fenfe was.

" If, faid he, by the mvotA fenfe, we were to underftand opinion

" and judgment, and by the word common, the generality, or any

" confiderable part of mankind, it would be hard to difcover where

" the fubjedl of common fenfe could lie ; for that which was ac-

" cording to the fenfe of one part of mankind, was againfl the

" fenfe of another: And if the majority were to determine common

" fenfe, it would change as often as men changed. That in religion,

" common fcnle was as hard to determine as catholic or orthodox.

1

" What to one was abfurdity, to another was demonftration.

" In policy, if plain Britifh or Dutch fenfe were right, Turkifh

" and French muft certainly be wrong. And as mere nonfenfe,

" as paflive obedience feemed, we fomid it to be the common fenfe

" of a great party amongfh ourfelves, a greater party in Europe,

" and perhaps the greateft part of all the world befides. As for

" morals, the difference was ftill wider ; for even the Phiiofo-

" phers could never agree in one and the fame fyflem. And fome

" even of our moft admired modern Philofophers had fairly told

" us, that virtue and vice had no other law or meafure than mere

" faOiion and vogue."

This

526 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. 11.^ This is the fubftance of the gentleman's fpeech, -which, I ap-
prehend, explains the meaning of the word perfedlly, and contains
all that has been faid, or can be faid againft the authority of com-
mon fenfe, and the propriety of appeals to it.

As there is no mention of any anfwer immediately made to this
fpeech, we might be apt to conclude, that the noble author adopt-
ed the fentiments of the intelligent gentleman, whofe fpeech he re-
cites. But the contrary is manifeft, from the title of Senfiis Com-
munis given to his EfTay, from his frequent ufe of the word, and
from the whole tenor of the Eflay.

The author appears to have a double intention in that Eflay,
correfponding to the double title prefixed to it. One intention is,
to juftify the ufe of wit, humour, and ridicule, in difcufling
among friends the graveft fubjeds. " I can very well fuppofe,
" fays he, men may be frighted out of their wics ; but I have no
" apprehenfion they Ihould be laughed out of them. I can hardly
" imagine, that, in a pleafant way, they fliould ever be talked out
" of their love for fociety, or reafoned out of humanity and com-
*' mon fenfe."

The other intention, fignified by the title Senfus Communis^ is car-
ried on hand in hand with the firfl:, and is to fluew, that common
fenfe is not fo vague and uncertain a thing as it is reprefented to
be in the fceptical fpeech before recited. " I will try," fays he,
" what certain knowledge or aflurance of things may be recovered
" in that very way, (to wit, of humour,) by which all certainty,

you thought, was loft, and an endlefs icepticifm introduced."

He gives fome criticifms upon the ^ox^fenfus communis in Juve-
nal, Horace, and Seneca j and after fhewing, in a facetious
way throughout the Treatife, that the fundamental principles of
morals, of politics, of criticifm, and of every branch of know-
ledge, are the dilates of common fenfe, he fums up the whole

in

OFCOMMONSENSE. 527

in thefe words: " That fome moral and philofophical truths p^AP. 11.

" there are fo evident in themfelves, chat it would be eafier to ima-

" gine half mankind run mad, and joined precifely in the fame

" fpecies of folly, than to admit any thing as truth, which fhould

" be advanced againft fuch natural knowledge, fundamental rea-

" fon, and common fenfe." And, on taking leave, he adds :

" And now, my friend, fhould you find I had raoralifed in any

" tolerable manner, according to common fenfe, and without

" canting, I fhould be fatisfied with my performance."

Another eminent writer who has put the queflion what com-
mon fenfe is, is Fenelon, the famous Archbiflvop of Cambray.

That ingenious and pious author, having had an early prepof-
fefTion in favour of the Cartefian phllofophy, made an attempt to
eftablifli, on a fure foundation, the metaphyfical arguments which
Des Cartes had invented to prove the being of the Deity. For
this purpofe, he begins with the Cartefian doubt. He proceeds
to find out the truth of his own exiftence, and then to examine
wherein the evidence and certainty of this and other fuch primary
truths confided. This, according to Cartefian principles, he places
in the clearnefs and dlftindlnefs of the ideas. On the contrary,
he places the abfurdity of the contrary propolitions, in their being,
repugnant to his clear and diflindl ideas.

To illuflrate this, he gives various examples of queftlons mani-
feftly abfurd and ridiculous, which every man of common under-
ftanding would at firft fight perceive to be fo, and then goes on
to this purpofe.

" What is it that makes thefe queftlons ridiculous ? Whereirb
" does this ridicule precifely confift I It will, perhaps be replied,.
'* that it confifts in this, that they fhock common fenfe. But
" what is this fame common fenfe ? It is not the firft notions that
" all men have equally of the fame things. This common fenfe,,

" wKich

528 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. II. '« which is always and in all places the fame ; which prevents en-

" quiry ; which makes enquiry in fome cafes ridiculous ; which,

" inftead of enquiring, makes a man laugh whether he will or

" not ; which puts it out of a man's power to doubt ; this fenfe,

" which only waits to be confulted ; which fhows itfelf at the

" firfl glance, and immediately difcovers the evidence or the ab-

" furdity of a queflion ; is not this the fame that I call my ideas ?

" Behold then thofe ideas or general notions, which it is not
" in my power either to contradicSl or examine, and by which I
" examine and decide in every cafe, infomuch that I laugh inftead
" of anfwering, as often as any thing is propofed to me, which
" is evidently contrary to what thefe immutable ideas reprefent."

I fhall only obferve upon this paffage, that the interpretation
it gives of Des Cartes criterion of truth, whether juft or not,
is the moft intelligible and the moft favourable I have met with.

I beg leave to mention one paffage from Cicero, and to add
two or three from late writers, which fliow that tliis word is not
become obfolete, nor has changed its meaning.

De Oratore, lib. 3. *' Omnes enim tacito quodam fenfu, fine
" ulla arte aut ratione, in artibus ac rationibus, reda ac prava
" dijudicant. Idque cum faciant in pidluris, et in fignis, et in
" aliis operibus, ad quorum intelligentiam a natura minus habent
" inftrumenti, turn multo oftendunt magis in verborum, nume-
" rorum, vocumque judicio ; quod ea fint in communibus in-
" fixa fenfibus ; neque earum rerum quemquam funditus natura
" voluit expertem."

Hume's Effays and Treatifes, vol. 1. p. 5. " But a Philofopher
" who propofes only to reprefent the common fenfe of mankind
" in more beautiful and more engaging colours, if by accident he
" commits a miftake, goes no farther, but renewing his appeal

" to

c<

O F C 0.M M O N S E N S E. 5^9

CHAP II

" to common fenfe, and the natural fentlments of the mind, re- >. ^ ' J
" turns into the right path, and fecures himfelf from any dan-
" gerous iilufion."

Hume's Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, p. 2.
" Thofe who have refufed the reality of moral diftindlions may
" be ranked among the difingenuous difputants. The only way
" of converting an antagonift of this kind is to leave him to him-
" felf: For, finding that nobody keeps up the controverfy with
him, 'tis probable he will at laft, of himfelf, from mere weari-
nefs, come over, to the fide of common fenfe and reafon."

Priestly's Inftitutes, Prelim. EfTay, vol. i. p. 27. " Becaufe
common fenfe is a fufficient guard againft many errors in reli-
gion, it feems to have been taken for granted, that that com-
mon fenfe is a fufficient inftrudtor alfo, whereas in facfl, with-
out pofitive inftru<5lion, men would naturally have been mere
favages with refpe<5l to religion ; as, without fimilar inftrudion,
they would be favages with refpedl to the arts of life and the

" fciences. Common fenfe can only be compared to a judge ;

" but what can a judge do without evidence and proper materials

" from which to form a judgment ?"

Priestly's Examination of Dr Reid, &c. page 127. " But

*' fhould we, out of complaifance, admit that what has hitherto

•* been called judgment may be called fenfe, it is making too free

" with the eftabliflied fignification of words to call it common

" fenfe, which, in common acceptation, has long been appropri-

" ated to a very different thing, viz. To that capacity forjudging

" of common things that perfons of middling capacities are ca-

" pable of." Page -129. " I fhould therefore expedl, that if a

" man was fo totally deprived of common fenfe as not to be able

" to diflinguifh truth from falfehood in one cafe, he would be

" equally incapable of dillinguifhing it in another."

X X X From

((

«

530 ESSAY VI.

-CHAF. IL From this cloud of teftimonies, to which hundreds might be
added, I aj>prehend, that whatever cenfure is thrown upon ihofe
wlio have fpoke of common fenfe as a principle of knowledge, or
who have appealed to it in matters that arc felf-evident, will fall
light, when there are fo many to fliare in it. Indeed, the autho-
rity of this tribunal is too facred and venerable,- and has prefcrip-
tion too long in its favour to be now wifely called in queflion.
Thofe who are difpofed to do fo, may remember the fhrcwd fay-
ing of Mr HoBBES, " When reafon is againfl a man, a man will
" be againft reafon." This is equally applicabJe to common fenfo;

From the account I have given of the meaning of this term, it
is eafy to judge both of the proper ufe and of the abufe of it.

It is abfurd to conceive that there can be any oppofition between
reafon and common fenfe. It is 'indeed the firft-horn of reafon,
and as they are commonly joined together in fpeech and iii writing,
they are infeparable in their nature.

Wc afcribe to reafon two offices, or two degrees. The firfl: is to
judge of things felf-evident ; the fecond to draw conclufions that
are not felf-evident from thofe that are. The firft of thefe is the
province, and the fole province of common fenfe ; and therefore
it coincides with reafon in its whole extent, and is only another
name for one branch or one degree of reafon. Perhaps it may be
faid. Why then fhould you give it a particular name, fince it is
acknowledged to be only a degree of reafon ? It would be a fuffi-
cient anfwer to this, Why do you abolifli a name which is to be
found in the language of all civilized nations, and has acquired a
right by prefcription ? Such an attempt is equally foohfli and in-
effeftual. Every wife man will be apt. to think, that a name which
is found in all languages as far back as we can trace them, is not
without fome ufe.

But there is an obvious reafon why this degree of reafon fliould

have

O F C O M M O N S E N S E. 531

have a name appropriated to it ; and that is, that in the greatell CHAP. u.

part of mankind no other degree of rcafon is to be found. It is

this degree that entitles them to the denomination of reafonable

creatures. It is this degree of reafon, and this only, that makes

a man capable of managing his own affairs, and anfvverable for

his condud towards others. There is therefore the beft reafon

why it Ihould have a name appropriated to it.

Thefe two degrees of reafon differ in other refpedls, which
would be fufficient to entitle them to diftincfl names.

The firfl is purely the gift of Heaven. And where Heaven has
not given it, no education can fupply the want. The fecond is
learned by pra6lice and rules, when the firft is not wanting. A
man who has common fenfe may be taught to reafon. But if he
has not that gift, no teaching will make him able either to judge
of firft principles or to reafon from them.

I have only this farther to obferve, that the province of com-
mon fenfe is more extenfive in refutation than in confirmation.
A conclufion drawn by a train of juft reafoning from true prin-
ciples cannot pofTibly contradidl any decifion of common fenfe,
becaufe truth will always be conliftent with itfclf. Neither can
fuch a conclufion receive any confirmation from common fenfe,
becaufe it is not within its jurifdi<flion.

But it is poffible, that, by fetting out from falfe principles, or
by an error in reafoning, a man may be led to a conclufion that
contradi(5ls the decifions of common fenfe. In this cafe, the con-
clufion is within the jurifdidlion of common fenfe, though the
reafoning on which it was grounded be not ; and a man of com-
mon fenfe may fairly rejedl the conclufion, without being able to
fhew the error of the reafoning that led to it.

Tlius, if a Mathematician, by a proccfs of intricate demonftra-

X X X 2 tion.

532 ■ E S S A Y VI.

'^

CHAP. II. tlon, in which fome falfe flep was made, fhould be brought to this
conclufion, that two quantities, which are both equal to a third, are
not equal to each other, a man of common Ci^nCe^ without pre-
tending to be a judge of the demonflration, is well entitled to re-
jedl the conclufion, and to pronounce it abfurd.

CHAP. III.
Senlimetits of Philofopbers concerning yudgment.

A DIFFERENCE about the meaning of a word ought not to occa-
fion difputes among Philofophers : But it is often very proper to
take notice of fuch differences, in order to prevent verbal difputes.
There are, indeed, no words in language more liable to ambigui-
ty than thofe by which we exprefs the operations of the mind ;
and the mofl candid and judicious may fometimes be led into dif-
ferent opinions about their precife meaning.

I hinted before what I take to be a peculiarity in Mr Locke
with regard to the meaning of the word judgment, and mention-
ed what I apprehend may have led him into it. But let us hear
himfelf ; Eflay, book 4. chap. 14. " The faculty which God has
" given to man to fupply the want of clear and certain knowledge,
" where that cannot be had, is judgment ; whereby the mind takes
" its ideas to agree or difagree ; or, which is the fame, any pro-
" pofition to be true or falfe, without perceiving a demonftrative
" evidence in the proofs. Thus the mind has two faculties, con-
'* verfant about truth and falfehood. Firji^ Knowledge, whereby
** it certainly perceives, and is vmdoubtedly fatisfied of the agree-
•* ment or difagreemeni of any ideas. Secondly, Judgment, which
" is the putting ideas together, or feparating them from one an-

" otlier

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 533

other in the mind, when their certain agreement or difagreement chap. in.
is not perceived, but prefumed to be fb."

Knowledge, I think, fometimes fignifies things known; fome-
times that ad of the mind by which we know them. And in like
manner opinion fometimes fignifies things believed ; fometimes
the act of the mind by which we believe them. But judgment is
the faculty which is exercifed in both thefe adls of the mind. In
knowledge, we judge without doubting ; in opinion, with fome
mixture of doubt. But I know no authority, befides that of Mr
Locke, for calling knowledge a faculty, any more than for calling
opinion a faculty.

Neither do I think that knowledge is confined within the narrow
limits which Mr Locke afligns to it; becaufe the far greateft part
of what all men call human knowledge, is in things which neither
admit of intuitive nor of demonftrative proof.

I have all along ufed the viovd judgment in a more extended fenfe
than Mr Locke does in the pafTage above mentioned. I under-
ftand by it that operation of mind, by which we determine, con-
cerning any thing that may be exprefled by a propofition, whether
it be true or falfe. Every propofition is either true or falfe ; fo is
every judgment. A propofition may be fimply conceived without
judging of it. But when there is not only a conception of the
propofition, but a mental affirmation or negation, an aflent or dlf-
fent of the underflanding, whether weak or ftrong, that is judgment.

I think, that fince the days of Aristotle, Logicians have ta-
ken the word in that fenfe, and other writers, for the moft part,
though there are other meanings, which there is no danger of con-
founding with this.

We may take the authority of Dr Isaac Watts, as a Logi-
cian, as a man who underftood Englifli, and who had a juft efteem

of

•534

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. iiL of Mr Locke's Eflay. Logic. Introd. page 5. " Judgment is

" that operation of the mind, wherein we join two or more ideas

" together by one affirmation or negation ; that is, we either affirm

*' or deny this to he that. So this tree is high; that horfe is not fwift ;

" the viitid of man is a thinking being ; mere matter has no thought be-

*' longing to it ; Cod is jujl ; good men are often mi/era ble in this world ;

" a righteous governor will make a difference betwixt the evil and the

*' good; which fentences are the effedl of judgment, and are called

*' propoCtions." And part 2. chap. 2. fecSl. 9. " The evidence of

" fenfe is, when we frame a propofition according to the dictate

" of any of our fenfes. So we judge, that grafs is green ; that a

" trumpet gives a pleafant found ; that f re burns wood ; wafer is foft ;
" and iron hard"

In this meaning, judgment extends to every kind of evidence,
probable or certain, and to every degree of aflent or diflent. It
extends to all knowledge as well as to all opinion ; with this dif-
ference only, that in knowledge it is more firm and fbeady, like a
hovife founded upon a rock. In opinion it (lands upon a weaker
foundation, and is more liable to be Ihaken and overturned.

Thefe diffi-Tences about the meaning of words are not mention-
ed as if truth was on one fide, and error on the other, but as an
apology for deviating in this inflance from the phrafeology of Mr
Locke, which is for the rnofl part accurate and diftin<5l ; and be-
caufe attention to the different meanings that are put upon words
by different authors is the beft way to prevent our miftaking ver-
bal differences for real differences of opinion.

The common theory concerning ideas naturally leads to a theory
concerning judgment, which may be a proper ted of its truth ;
for as they are neceffarily conne(5led, they mud Hand or fall to-
gether : Their connedlion is thus expreffed by Mr Locke, book 4.
chap. I. " Since the mind, in all its thoughts and reafonings, hath
"*' no other immediate obje(fl but its own ideas, which it alone

" does,

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. SSS-

" does, or can contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge ts on- CHAP. ill.

" ly converfant about them. Knowledije then feems to me to

" be nothing but the perception of the comie&ioti, and agreement or

" difagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas. In this alone it

«ts

con,

nfp:

There can only be one objedlion to the juflice of this inference;
and that is, that the antecedent propofition from which it is infer-
red, feems to have fome ambiguity : For, in the firft claufe of that
propofition, the mind is faid to have no other immediate obje6t but
its own ideas ; in the fecond, that it has no other objecfl at all ;
that it does or can contemplate ideas alone.

If the word immediate in the firfl: claufe be a mere expletive, and
be not intended to limit the generality of the propofition, then the^
two claufes will be perfectly confident, the fecond being only a re-
petition or explication of the firft ; and the inference that our know-
ledge is only converfant about ideas, will be perfe<511y juft and
logical.

But if the word immediate in the firfl claufe be intended to li-
mit the general propofition, and to imply, that the mind has other
obje(5ls befides its own ideas, though no other immediate objedls;
then it will not be true that it does or can contemplate ideas alone;
nor will the inference be juflly drawn, that our knowledge is only,
converfant about ideas.

Mr Locke mufl either have meant his antecedent propofition,,
without any limitation by the word immediate, or he muft have
meant to limit it by that word, and to fignify that there are objeds.
of the mind which are not ideas.

The firfl of thefe fuppofitions appears to me mofl probable, for
feveral reafons.

Firf,

^;i6 ESSAY VT.

CHAP. III. Fir^, Becaufe, when he purpofely defines the word iJea, in the
introdudion to the EfHiy, he fays it is whatfoever is the obje<5l of
the underftanding when a man thinks ; or whatever the mind can
be employed about in thinking. Here there is no room left for
objects of the mind that are not ideas. The fame definition is often
repeated throughout the Effay. Sometimes, indeed, the word /;«-
mediate is added, as in the paflage now under confideration ; but
there is no intimation made that it ought to be underflood when
it is not expreffed. Now if it had really been his opinion, that
there are objetfls of thought which are not ideas, this definition,
which is the ground work of the whole EfTay, would have been
very improper, and apt to miflead his reader.

Secondly^ He has never attempted to fliow how there can be ob-
je<fls of thought, which are not immediate obje(5ls ; and indeed this
feems impoflible. For whatever the objecfl be, the man either
thinks of it, or he does not. There is no medium between thefe.
If he thinks of it, it is an immediate objedt of thought while he
thinks of it. If he does not think of it, it is no obje^ of thought
at all. Every obje(5l of thought, therefore, is an immediate objedl
of thought, and the word immediate, joined to objecfts of thought,
feems to be a mere expletive.

y/^W/y, Though Male BRA Nc HE and Bifhop Berkeley belie-
ved, that we have no ideas of minds, or of the operations of minds,
and that we may think and reafon about them without ideas,
this was not the opinion of Mr Locke. He thought that there
are ideas of minds, and of their operations, as well as of the objecfls
of fenfe ; that the mind perceives nothing but its own ideas, and
that all words are the figns of ideas.

A fourth reafon is. That to fuppofe that he intended to limit the
antecedent propofition by the word immediate, is to impute to him
a blunder in reafoning, which I do not think Mr Locke could
have committed j for what can be a more glaring paralogifm than

to

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 537

to infer, that fince ideas are partly, though not folely, the objeds CHAP. III.
of thought, it is evident that all our knowledge is only converfant
about them. If, on the contrary, he meant that ideas are the only
objeds of thought, then the conclufion drawn is perfetfily juft and
obvious ; and he might very well fa,y, that fmce it is ideas only that
the mind does or can contemplate^ it is evident that our knowledge is only
converfant about them.
(

As to the conclufion itfelf, I have only to obferve, that though
he extends it only to what he calls knowledge, and not to what he
calls judgment, there is the fame reafon for extending it to both.

It is true of judgment, as well as of knowledge, that it can only
be converfant about objedls of the mind, or about things which
the mind can contemplate. Judgment, ^s well as knowledge, fup-
pofes the conception of the objedl about which we judge; and to
judge of objedls that never were nor can be obje(3:s of the. mind,
is evidently impoflible.

This therefore we may take for granted, that if knowledge be
converfant about ideas only, becaufe there is no other objedl of th^
mind, it mufl be no lefs certain, that judgment is converfant about
ideas only, for the fame reafon.

Mr Locke adds, as the refult of his reafoning, Knowledge then
feems to me to be nothing but the perception of the connexion
and agreement, or difagreement and repugnancy, of any of our
ideas. In this alone it confifts.

This is a very important point, not only on its own account,
but on account of its neceffary conne<5lion with his fyftem con-
cerning ideas, which is fuch, as that both mufl ftand or fall toge-
ther ; for if there is any part of human knowledge which does not
confifl in the perception of the agreement or difagreement of ideas,
it mufl: follow, that there are objeds of thought and of contempla-
tion which are not ideas.

Y y y This

538 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. III.^ This point, therefore, ddfervea to be carefully eiatoined. With
this view, let us fird attend to its meaning, which I think can
hardly be iniftaken, though it may need fome explication.

Every point of knowledge, and every judgment, is exprefled by
4 propofition, wherein fomething is affirmed or denied of the fub-
je(5l of the propofition.

By perceiving the conneiflion or agreement of two ideas, I con-
ceive is meant perceiving thfe truth of an affirmative propofition,
of which the fubjeil and predicate are ideas. In like manner, by
perceiving the difagrecment and repugnancy of any two ideas, I
cortceive is meant perceiving the truth of a negative propofition, of
which both fubje(5l and predicate are ideas. This I take to be the
only meaning the w^ords can bear, and it is confirmed by what
Mr Locke fays in a palTage already quoted in this chapter, that
" the mind, taking its ideas to agree or difagree, is the fanft as
" taking any propofition to be true or falfe." Therefore, if the
definition of knowledge given by Mr Locke be a juft one, the
fubjedl, as well as the predicate of every propofition, by which any
point of knowledge is exprefTed, mufl be an idea, and can be no-
thing elfe ; and the fame muft hold of every propofition by which
judgment is exprefTed, as has been fhown above.

Having afcertained the meaning of this definition of human
knowledge, we are next to confider how far it is jufl.

Firjl^ I would obferve, that if the word idea be taken in the
meaning which it had at firfb among the Pythagoreans and Plato-
nifls, and if by knowledge be meartt only abftraft and general
knowledge, (which I believe Mr Locke had chiefiy in his view,)
I think the propofitioft is true, that ftich knowledge confifls folely
in perceiving the truth of propofitions whofe fubjei!it and predicate
are ideas.

By

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 539

By ideas here I mean things conceived abftra6lly, without regard chap. III.
to their exiftence ; We commonly call them abftradl notions, ab-
ftradl conceptions, abftratfl ideas ; the Peripatetics called them uni-
verfals ; and the Platonifts, who knew no other ideas, called them
ideas without addition.

Such ideas are both fubjedl and predicate in every propofition
which exprefTes abltradl knowledge.

The whole body of pure mathematics is an abftradl fcience ; and
in every mathematical propofition, both fubje<^ and predicate are
ideas, in the fenfe above explained. Thus, when I fay the fide of
a fquare is not commenfurable to its diagonal : In this propofition
the fide and the diagonal of a fquare are the fubjeds, (for being a re-
lative propofition it muft have two fubjeds.) A fquare, its fide,
and its diagonal, are ideas or univerfals ; they are not individuals,
but things predicable of many individuals. Exiftence is not in-
cluded in their definition, nor in the conception we form of them.
The predicate of the propofition is commenfurable^ which muft be
an univerfal, as the predicate of every propofition is fo. In other
branches of knowledge many abftracl truths may be found, but,
for the moft part, mixed with others that are not abftra(5b.

I add, that I apprehend that what is flridlly called demonftra-
tive evidence, is to be found in abftra6l knowledge only. This
was the opinion of Aristotle, of Plato, and I think of all the
an<jient Philofophers ; and I beUeve in this they judged right. It
is true, we often meet with demonftration in aftronomy, in me-
chanics, and in other branches of natural philofophy ; but I be-
lieve we fhall always find that fuch demonftrations are grounded
upon principles or liippofitions, which have neither intuitive nor
demonftrative evidence.

Thus .when we demonftrate, that the path of a proje(5lile in va-
cuo is a parabola, we fuppofe that it is adled upon with the fanw

Y y y 2 force,

54° ESSAY VI.

^vH3^_i5' ^o'"ce, and in the fame diredlion through its whole path by gravi-
ty. This is not intuitively known, nor is it demonftrable : And
in the demon/lration, we reafon from the laws of motion, which
are principles not capable of demonflration, but grounded on a
different kind of evidence.

Ideas, in the fenfe above explained, are creatures of the mind ;
they are fabricated by its rational powers ; we know their nature
and their effence ; for they are nothing more than they are con-
ceived to be : And becaufe they are perfedly known, we can rea-
fon about them with the highefl degree of evidence.

And as they are not things that exift, but things conceived, they
neither have place nor time, nor are they liable to change.

When we fay that they are in the mind, this can mean no more
but that they are conceived by the mind, or that they are objeds
of thought. The ad of conceiving them is no doubt in the mind ;
the things conceived have no place, becaufe they have not exift-
ence. Thus a circle, confidered abftra6lly, is faid figuratively to
be in the mind of him that conceives it ; but in no other fenfe
than the city of London or the kingdom of France is faid to be in
his mind when he thinks of thofe objecfts.

Place and time belong to finite things that exift, but not to things
that are barely conceived. They may be pbjeds of conception to
intelligent beings in every place, and at all times. Hence the Py-
thagoreans and Platonifts were led to think that they are eternal
and omniprefent. If they had exiftence, they muft be fo ; for they
have no relation to any one place or time, which they have not to
every place and to every time.

The natural prejudice of mankind, th„t what we conceive muft
have exiftence, led thofe ancient Philofophers to attribute exiftence
to ideas ; and by this they were led into all the extravagant and

myfterious

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 541

myfterious parts of their fyftem. When it is purged of thefe, I pHAP. m.
apprehend it to be the only intelligible and rational fyftem concern-
ing ideas.

I agree with them therefore, that ideas are immutably the fame
in all times and places : For this means no more but that a circle
is always a circle, and a fquare always a fquare.

I agree with them, that ideas are the patterns or exemplars, by^ ■
which every thing was made that had a beginning : For an intelli-
gent artificer muft conceive his work before it is made ; he makes
it according to that conception ; and the thing conceived, before >

it exifts, can only be an idea.

I agree with them, that every fpecies of things confidered ab-
ftra<5^1y is an idea ; and that the idea of the fpecies is in every in-
dividual of the fpecies, without divifion or multiplication. This
indeed is exprcfled fbmewhat myfterioufly, according to the man-^-
ner of the fedl ; but it may eafily be explained.

Every idea is an attribute ; and it is a common way of fpeaking,
to fay, that the attribute is in every fubje(ft of which it may truly
be affirmed. Thus, to be above fifty years of age, is an attribute of
idea. This attribute may be in, or affirmed of, fifty different indi-
viduals, and be the fame in all, without divifion or multiplication.

I think, that not only every fpecies, but every genus, higher or
lower, and every attribute confidered abftradly, is an idea. Thefe
are things conceived without regard to exiftence ; they are univer-
fals, and therefore' ideas, according to the ancient meaning ofi"
that word.

It is true, that, after the Platonifts entered into difputes with the
Peripatetics, in order to defend the exiftence of eternal ideas, they
foujad it prudent to contrad the line of defence^ and maintained

only

542 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. III. only that there is an idea of every fpecies of natural things, but
not of the genera, nor of things artificial. They were unwilling
to multiply beings beyond what was neceflary ; but in this I think
they departed from the genuine principles of their fyftem.

The definition of a fpecies, is nothing but the definition of the
genus, with the addition of a fpecific difference ; and the divifion
of things into fpecies is the work of the mind, as well as their di-
vifion into genera and clafles. A fpecies, a genus, an order, a
clafs, is only a combination of attributes made by the mind, and
called by one name. There is therefore the fame reafon for giving
the name of idea to every attribute, and to every fpecies and ge-
nus, whether higher or lower : Thefe are only more complex attri-
butes, or combinations of the more fimple. And though it might
be improper, without necefifity, to multiply beings, which they
believed to have a real exigence ; yet, had they feen that ideas are
not things that exill, but things that are conceived, they would
have apprehended no danger nor expence from their number.

Simple attributes, fpecies and genera, lower or higher, are all
things conceived without regard tp exiftence ; they are univerfals ;
they are expreflTed by general words ; and have an equal title to
be called by the name of ideas.

I likewife agree wlch thofe ancient Philofophers, that ideas are
the obje6l, and the fole objedl of fciencc, ftridlly fo called ; that
is, of demonftrative reafoning.

And as ideas are immutable, fo their agreements and difagree-
ments, and all their relations and attributes, are immutable. All
mathematical truths are immutably true. Like the ideas about
which they are converfant, they have no relation to time or place,
no dependence upou exiftence or change. That the angles of a
plane triangle are equal to two right angles, always was and al-
ways will be true, though np triangle had ever exifted.

The

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 543

The Tame may be faid of all abflra(5l tfuths. On that account CHAP. III.
they have often been called eternal truths : And for the fame rea-
fon the Pythagoreans afcribed eternity to the ideas about which
they are converfant. They may very properly be called necelTary
truths J becaufe it is impoilible they fliould not be true at all times
and in all places.

Such is the nature of all truth that can be difcovered, by per-
ceiving the agreements and difagreements of ideas, when we take
that word in its primitive fenfe. And that Mr LocKE, in his de-
finition of knowledge, had chiefly in his view abftradl truths, we
may be led to think from the examples he gives to illuftrate it.

But there is another great clafs of truths, which are not abftra(5l
and neceflary, and therefore cannot be perceived in the agreements
and difagreements of ideas. Thefe are all the truths we know con-
cerning the real exiftence of things ; the truth of oiir own exift-
ence ; of the exiftence of other things, inanimate, animal and ra-
tional, and of tlieir various attributes and relations.

Thefe truths may be called contingent truths. I except only
the exiftence and attributes of the Supreme Being, which is the on-
ly neceflary truth I know regarding exiftence.

All other beings that exift, depend for their exiftence, and all
that belongs to it, upon the will and power of the firft caufe ;
therefore, neither their exiftence, nor their nature, nor any thing
that befals them, is neceflary, but contingent.

But although the exiftence of the Deity be neceflary, I appre-
hend we. can only deduce it from contingent truths. The only
arguments for the exiftence of a Deity which I am able to Com-
prehend, are grounded upon the knowledge of my own exiftence,
and the exiftence of other finite beings. But thefe are contingent

truths.

I

544

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. III. I believe, therefore, that by perceiving agreements and difagree-
mencs of ideas, no contingent truth whatfoever can be known,
nor the real exiflence of any thing, not even our own exiflence,
nor the exiflence of a Deity, which is a necefTary truth. Thus I
have endeavoured to Ihew what knowledge may, and what can-
not be attained, by perceiving the agreements and difagreements
of ideas, when we take that word in its primitive fenfe.

We are, in the next place, to confider, whether knowledge con-
fifts in perceiving the agreement or difagreement of ideas, taking
ideas in any of the fenfes in which the word is ufed by Mr Locke
and other modern Philofophers.

1. Very often the word idea is ufed fo, that to have the idea of
any thing is a periphr ajts ^or conceiving it. In this fenfe, an idea
is not an obje<5l of thought, it is thought itfelf. It is the adl of
the mind by which we conceive any obje6l. And it is evident
that this could not be the meaning which Mr Locke had in view
in his definition of knowledge.

2. A fecond meaning of the word idea is that which Mr Locke
gives in the introdudion to his EfTay, when he is making an apo-
logy for the frequent ufe of it. " It being that term, I think,
" which ferves beft to ftand for whatfoever is the obje<fl of the
** underllanding when a man thinks, or whatever it is which a
" man can be employed about in thinking."

By this definition, indeed, every thing that can be the objed of
thought is an idea. The objeds of our thoughts may, I think, be
reduced to two clafTes.

The firfl clafs comprehends all thofe objeds which we not only
can think of, but which we believe to have a real exiftence. Such
as the Creator of all things, and all his creatures that fall within
our notice. I can think of the fun and moon, the earth and fea,

and

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 545

and of the various animal, vegetable, and inanimate produdions CHAP, in.
with which it hatk pleafed the bountiful Creator to enrich our
globe. I can think of myfelf, of my friends and acquaintance.
I think of the author of the Eflay with high efteem. Thefe, and
fuch as thefe, are objedls of the underflanding which we believe
to have real exiftence.

A fecond clafs of obje<5ls of the underftanding which a man
may be employed about in thinking, are things which we either
believe never to have exifted, or which we think of without re-
gard to their exiftence.

Thus, I can think of Don Quixote, of the ifland of Laputa,
of Oceana, and of Utopia, which I believe never to have exifted.
Every attribute, every fpecies, and every genus of things, confi-
dered abftra(5lly, without any regard to their exiftence or non-ex-
iftence, may be an objedl of the underftanding.

To this fecond clafs of objedls of the underftanding, the name
of idea does very properly belong, according to the primitive
fenfe of the word, and I have already confidered what knowledge
does, and what does not confift in perceiving the agreements and
difagreements of fuch ideas.

But if we take the word idea in fb extenfive a fenfe as to com-
prehend, not only the fecond, but alfo the firft clafs of objedts of -
the underftanding, it will undoubtedly be true, that all knowledge
confifts in perceiving the agreements and difagreements of ideas :
For it is impoffible that there can be any knowledge, any judgment,
any opinion, true or falfe, which is not employed about the objedts
of the underftanding. But whatfoever is an objedl of the under-
ftanding is an idea, according to this fecond meaning of the word.

Yet I am perfuaded that Mr Locke, in his definition of know-
ledge, did not mean that the word idea fliould extend to all thofe

Z z z things

546 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. III. things which we commonly confider as objeds of the under-
(landing.

Though Blfliop Berkeley believed that fun, moon, and ftars,
and all material things, are ideas, and nothing but ideas, Mr
Locke no where profefles this opinion. He believed that we have
ideas of bodies, but not that bodies are ideas. In like manner,
he believed that we have ideas of minds, but not that minds are
ideas. When he enquired fo carefully into the origin of all our
ideas, he did not furely mean to find the origin of whatfoever
may be the objedl of the underftanding, nor to refolve the origin
of every thing that may be an obje<5l of underftanding into fenfa-
tioii and refle€tion.

3. Setting afide, therefore, the two meanings of the word idea
before mentioned, as meanings which Mr Locke could not have
in his view in the definition he gives of knowledge, the only
meaning that could be intended in this place is that which I be-
fore called the philofophical meaning of the word idea, which hath
a reference to the theory commonly received about the manner in
which the mind perceives external objedls, and in which it re-
members and conceives objeds that are not prefent to it. It is a
very ancient opinion, and has been very generally received among
Philofophers, that we cannot perceive or think of fuch obje<?ls im-
mediately, but by the medium of certain images or reprefentatives
of them really exifting in the mind at the time.

To thofe images the ancients gave the name of fpecies and
phantafms. Modern Philofophers have given them the name of
ideas. " 'Tis evident," fays Mr Locke, book 4. ch. 4. " the
" mind knows not things immediately, but only by the interven-
*'■ tion of the ideas it has of them." And in the fame paragraph
he puts this qucftion : " How fliall the mind, when it perceives
" nothing but its own ideas, know that they agree with things
" themfelves ?"

This

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 547

This theory I have already confidered, in treating of percep- CIIAP. IIL
tion, of memory, and of conception. The reader will there find
the reafons that lead me to think, that it has no folid foundation
in reafon, or in attentive refle<5lion upon thofe operations of our
minds ; that it contradidls the immediate didlates of our natural
faculties, which are of higher authority than any theory ; that it
has taken its rife from the fame prejudices which led all the an-
cient Philofophers to think that the Deity could not make this
world without fome eternal matter to work upon, and which led
the Pythagoreans and Platonifts to think, that he could not con-
ceive the plan of the world he was to make without eternal ideas
really exifting as patterns to work by ; and that this theory, when
its neceffary confequences are fairly purfued, leads to abfolute
fcepticifm, though thofe confequences were not feen by mod of
the Philofophers who have adopted it.

I have no intention to repeat what has before been faid upon
thofe points ; but only, taking ideas in this fenfe, to make fome
obfervations upon the definition which Mr Locke gives of •
knowledge.

Firjl^ If all knowledge confifts in perceiving the agreements and
difagreements of ideas, that is, of reprefentative images of things
exifting in the mind, it obvioufly follows, that if there be no fuch
ideas, there can be no knowledge : So that, if there fhould be
found good reafon for giving up this philofophical hypothefis, all
knowledge muft go along with it.

I hope, however, it is not fo ; and that though this hypothefis,
like many others, fliould totter and fall to the ground, knowledge
will continue to ftand firm, upon a more permanent bafis.

The cycles and epicycles of the ancient Aftronomers were for
a ihoufand years thought abfolutely neceflary to explain the mo-
tions of the heavenly bodies. Yet now, when all men believe

Z z z 2 them •

548 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. III. them to have been mere fidions, aftronomy has not fallen with
them, but (lands upon a more rational foundation than before.
Ideas, or images of things exifting in the mind, have for a longer
time been thought neceflfary for explaining the operations of the
underftanding. If they fhould likewife at laft be found to be
ficflions, human knowledge and judgment would fuffer nothing,
by being difengaged from an unwieldy hypothefis. Mr Locke
furely did not look upon the exiftence of ideas as a philofophical
hypothefis. He thought that we are confcious of their exiftence,
otherwife he would not have made the exiftence of all our know-
ledge to depend upon the exiftence of ideas.

Secondly^ Suppofing this hypothefis to be true, I agree with Mr
Locke, that it is an evident and neceflary confequence that our
knowledge can be converfant about ideas only, and muft confift in
perceiving their attributes and relations. For nothing can be more
evident than this, that all knowledge, and all judgment and opi-
nion, muft be about things which are or may be immediate objedls
of our thought. What cannot be the obje(fl of thought, or the
objedl of the mind in thinking, cannot be the object of knowledge
or of opinion.

Every thing we can know of any obje6l muft be either fome at-
tribute of the objecfl, or fome relation it bears to fome other obje(5l
or objeds. By the agreements and difagreements of objects, I ap-
prehend Mr Locke intended to exprefs both their attributes and
their relations. If ideas then be the only objedts of thought, the
confequence is neceftary, that they muft be the only objedls of
knowledge, and all knowledge muft confift in perceiving their
agreements and difagreements, that is, their attributes and relations.

The ufe I would make of this confequence, is to ftiow that the
hypothefis muft be falfe, from which it neceffarily follows : For if
we have any knowledge of things that are not ideas, it will follow-
no lefs evidently, that ideas are not the only objec5ls of our thoughts.

Mr

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 549

Mr Locke has pointed out die extent and limits of human CHAP; iii.
knowledge in his fourth book, with more accuracy and judgment
than any Philofopher had done before ; but he has not confined it
to the agreements and difagreements of ideas. And I cannot help
thinking, that a great part of that book is an evident refutation of
the principles laid down in the beginning of it.

Mr Locke did not believe that he himfelf was an idea; that
his friends and acquaintance were ideas ; that the Supreme Beings
to fpeak with reverence, is an idea ; or that the fun and moon, the
earth and the fea, and other external objeds of fenfe, are ideas.
He believed that he had fome certain knowledge of all thofe ob-
jeds. His knowledge, therefore, did not confift folely in perceiving
the agreements and difagreements of his ideas : For, furely, to
perceive the exiflence, the attributes, and relations of things, which
are not ideas, is not to perceive the agreements and difagreements
of ideas. And if things which are not ideas be objedls of know-
ledge, they muft be objedls of thought. On the contrary, if ideas
be the only objedls of thought, there can be no knowledge either
of our own exiftence, or of the exiflence of external obje(^s, or of
the exiftence of a Deity.

This confequence, as far as concerns the exiftence of external
obje<5ls of fenfe, was afterwards deduced from the theory of ideas
by Bilhop Berkeley with the cleareft evidence; and that author
chofe rather to adopt the confequence than to rejedl the theory on
which it was grounded. But, with regard to the exiftence of our
own minds, of other minds, and of a Supreme Mind, the Biftiop,,
that he might avoid the confequence, reje<5led a part of the theory^
and maintained, that we can think of niinds^, of their attribute*
and relations, without ideas.

Mr Hume faw very clearly the confequences of this theory, and
adopted them in his fpeculative moments ; but candidly acknow-
ledges, that, in the common bufinefs of life» he found himfelf un-
der

550 E S S A Y VI.

2^Tli5' ^^^' ^ ncceflity of Iselieving with the vulgar. His Treatife of Hu-
man Nature is the only fyflem to which the theory of ideas leads;
and, in my apprehenfion, is, in all its parts, the neceflary confe-
quence of that theory.

Mr Locke, however, did not fee all the confequences of that
theory ; he adopted it without doubt or examination, carried
along by the ftream of Philofophers that went before him; and his
judgment and good fenfe have led him to fay many things, and
to believe many things that cannot be reconciled to it.

He not only believed his own exiftence, the exiftence of exter-
nal things, and the exiftence of a Deity ; but he has fliown very
juftly how we come by the knowledge of thefe exiftences.

It might here be expedled, that he fliould have pointed out the
agreements and difagreements of ideas from which thefe exiftences
are deduced ; but this is impoffible, and he has not even attempt-
ed it.

Our own exiftence, he obferves, we know intuitively ; but this in-
tuition is not a perception of the agreement or difagreement of
ideas; for the fubje(5t of the propofition, I exiji^ is not an idea,
but a perfon.

. . The knowledge of external objedls of fenfe, he obferves, we can
have only by fcnfation. This fenfation he afterwards exprefTes more
clearly by the tejlimony of our fenfes^ "which are the proper andfole
judges of this thing ; whofe teftimony is the greatejl ajfurance we can
pojfihly have^ and to which our faculties can attain. This is perfectly
agreeable to the common fenfe of mankind, and is perfectly under-
ftood by thofe who never heard of the theory of ideas. Our fenfes
teftlfy immediately the exiftence, and many of the attributes and
relations of external material beings ; and, by our conftitution, we
rely with afTurance upon their teftimony, without feekingareafon for

doing

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. S5^

doing fo. This alTurance, Mr Locke acknowledges, deferves the CHAP, in.
name of knowledge. But thofe external things are not ideas, nor
are their attributes and relations the agreements and difagreements
of ideas, but the agreements and difagreements of things which
are not ideas.

To reconcile this to the theory of ideas, Mr Locke fays, Thai it
is (be aBual receiving of ideas from without that gives us notice of the ex-
ijlence of thofe external things.

This, if underftood literally, would lead us back to the dodrine
of Aristotle, that our. ideas or fpecies come from without from
the external objedls, and are the image or form of thofe objecls.
But Mr Locke, I believe, meant no more by it, but that our ideas
of fenfe muft have a caufe, and that we are not the caufe of them
ourfelves.

Bifhop Berkeley acknowledges all this, and fhews very clear-
ly, that it does not afford the lead fliadow of reafon for the belief
of any material objed. Nay, that there can be nothing external
that has any refemblance to our ideas but the ideas of other minds.

It is evident, therefore, that the agreements and difagreements
of ideas can give us no knowledge of the exiftence of any mate-
rial thing. If any knowledge can be attained of things which are
not ideas, that knowledge is a perception of agreements and difa-
greements, not of ideas, but of things that are not ideas.

As ta the exiftence of a Deity, though Mr Locke was aware
that Des Cartes, and many after him, had attempted to prove
it merely from the agreements and difagreements of ideas ; yet
" he thought it an ill way of eftablifhing that truth, and filencing
" Atheifts, to lay the whole ftrefs of fo important a point upon
" that fole foundation." And therefore he proves this point with
great ftrength and folidity, from our own exiftence, and the exift-
ence

552 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. IIL gnce of the fenfible parts of the univerfe. By memory, Mr Locke
fays, we have the knowledge of the pad exiftence of feveral things :
But all conception of pad exiftence, as well as of external exift-
ence, is irreconcileable to the theory of ideas ; becaufe it fuppofes
that there may be immediate objefls of thought, which are not
ideas prefently exifting in the mind.

I conclude therefore, that if we have any knowledge of our own
exiftence, or of the exiftence of what we fee about us, or of the
exiftence of a Supreme Being ; or if we have any knowledge of
things paft by memory, that knowledge cannot confift in percei-
ving the agreements and difagreements of ideas.

This conclufion, indeed, is evident of itfelf : For if knowledge
confifts folely in the perception of the agreement or difagreement
of ideas, there can be no knowledge of any propofition which does
not exprefs fome agreement or difagreement of ideas ; confequent-
ly there can be no knowledge of any propofition, which exprefles
either the exiftence, or the attributes or relations of things, which
are not ideas. If therefore the theory of ideas be true, there can
be no knowledge of any thing but of ideas. And, on the other
hand, if we have any knowledge of any thing befides ideas, that
theory muft be falfe.

There can be no knowledge, no judgment, or opinion about
things which are not immediate objedls of thought. This I take
to be felf-evident. If, therefore, ideas be the only immediate ob-
je<5ls of thought, they muft be the only things in nature of which
, we can have any knowledge, and about which we can have any
judgment or opinion.

This neceflary confequence of the common doctrine of ideas Mr
Hume faw, and has made evident in his Treatife of Human Na-
ture ; but the ufe he made of it was not to overturn the theory
with which it is neceffarily conneded, but to overturn all know-
ledge,

SENTIMENTS CONCERNING JUDGMENT. 55^

ledge, and to leave no ground to believe any thing whatfoever. If CHAP. iir.
Mr Locke had feen this confequence, there is reafon to think that ^ " '
he would have made another ufe of it.

That a man of Mr Locke's judgment and penetration did not
perceive a confequence fo evident, feems indeed very ftrange ; and
I know no other account that can be given of it but this, that the
ambiguity of the word idea has mifled him in this, as in feveral
other inflances. Having at firft defined ideas to be whatfoever is
the objed: of the underflanding when we think, he takes it very
often in that unlimited fenfe ; and fo every thing that can be an
objedl of thought is an idea. At other times, he ufes the word to
iignify certain reprefentative images of things in the mind, which
Philofophers have fuppofed to be immediate objedls of thought.
At other times, things conceived abflra(5lly, without regard to their
exiflence, are called ideas. Philofophy is much indebted to Mr
Locke for his obfervations on the abufe of words. It is pity he
did not apply thefe obfervations to the word idea^ the ambiguity
and abufe of which has very much hurt his excellent EfTay.

There are fome other opinions of Philofophers concerning judg-
ment, of which I think it unneceffary to fay much.

Mr Hume fometimes adopts Mr Locke's opinion, that it is the
perception of the agreement or difagreement of our ideas ; fome-
times he maintains, that judgment and reafoning refolve them-
felves into conception, and are nothing but particular ways of con-
ceiving objeds ; and he fays, that an opinion or belief may moft
accurately be defined, a lively idea related to or ajfociated with a pre-
fcnt imprejfion^ Treatife of Human Nature, vol. i. page 172.

■ I have endeavoured before, in the firft chapter of this Eflay, to
fliew that judgment is an operation of mind fpecifically diflin<fl
from the bare conception of an objedl. I have alfo confidered his
notion of belief, in treating of the theories concerning memory.

A a a a Dr

554

ESSAY VI.

<^

CHAP. iir. Dr Hartley fays, " That aflfent and difTent mud come under
the notion of ideas, being only thofe very complex internal
feelings which adhere by aflbciation to fuch cluflers of words as
are called propofitions in general, or affirmations and negations
in particular."

<(
it

This, if I underftand its meaning, agrees with the opinion of Mr
Hume above mentioned, and has therefore been before confidered.

Dr Priestly has given another definition of judgment. " It is
" nothing more than the perception of the univerfal concurrence,
" or the perfecfl coincidence of two ideas; or the want of that
" concurrence or coincidence." This I think coincides with Mr
" Locke's definition, and therefore has been already confidered."

There are many particulars which deferve to be known, and
which might very properly be confidered in this Efltay on judg-
ment ; concerning the various kinds of propofitions by which our
judgments are exprefled ; their fubje<fls and predicates ; their con-
verfions and oppofitions : But as thefe are to be found in every
fyftem of logic from Aristotle down to the prefent age, I think
it unneceflTary to fwell this Effay with the repetition of what has
been faid fo often. The remarks which have occurred to me upon
what is commonly faid on thefe points, as well as upon the art of
fyllogifm ; the utility of the fchool logic, and the improvements
tliat may be made in it, may be found in a Short Account o/" Ari-
stotle's Logic -with Remarh, which Lord Kames has honoured
with a place in his Sketches of the Hijiory of Man.

CHAP.

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. SSS

CHAP. IV.
' , '

CHAP. IV.

Ofjirjt Principles in General.

o

NE of the moft important diftindions of our judgments is,
thatfome of them are intuitive, others grounded on argument.

It is not in our power to judge as we will. The judgment is
carried along neceffarily by the evidence, real or feeming, which
appears to us at the time. But in propofitions that are fubmitted
to our judgment, there is this great difference f fome are of fuch a
nature that a man of ripe underftanding may apprehend them di-
flindlly, and perfe<5lly underftand their meaning without finding
himfelf under any neceflity of believing them to be true or falfe,
probable or improbable. The judgment remains in fufpence, uritil
it is inclined to one fide or another by reafons or arguments.

But there are other propofitions which are no fooner underftood
than they are believed. The judgment follows the apprehenfion of
them neceflarily, and both are equally the work of nature, and the
refult of our original powers. There is no fearching for evidence,
no weighing of arguments ; the propofition is not deduced or in-
ferred from another ; it has the light of truth in itfelf, and has no
occafion to borrow it from another.

Propofitions of the laft kind, when they are ufed in matters of
fcience, have commonly been called axioms ; and on whatever oc-
cafion they are ufed, are called frjl principles^ principles of common
fenfcy common notions^ felf-evident truths, Cicero calls them
Natures judicia^ ju dicta communibus hominiim fenfibus injixa. Lord
Shaftesbury exprefles them by the words, natural knowledge^
fundamental reafon, and common fenfe.

A a a a 2 What

Ss6 ESSAY VI.

^

CHAP. IV. "What has been faid, I dunk, is fufficient to diftinguifh firfl:
principles, or intuitive judgments, from thofe which may be af-
cribed to the power of reafoning ; nor is it a juft objedion againft:
this diflindion, that there may be fome judgments concerning
which we may be dubious to which clafs they ought to be referred.
There is a real diftindion between perfons within the houfe, and
thofe that are without ; yet it may be dubious to which the man
belongs that Hands upon the threlhold.

The power of reafoning, that is of drawing a conclufion from a
chain of premifes, may with fome propriety be called an art.
" All reafoning," fays Mr Locke, " is fearch and calling about,
" and requires pains and application." It refembles the power of
walking, which is acquired by ufe and exercife. Nature prompts
to it, and has given the power of acquiring it ; but mull be aided
by frequent exercife before we are able to walk. After repeated
efforts, much Humbling, and many falls, we learn to walk ; and
it is in a (imilar manner that we learn to reafon.

But the power of judging in felf-evident propolitions, which are
clearly underftood, may be compared to the power of fwallowing
our food. It is purely natural, and therefore common to the
learned, and the unlearned; to the trained, and the untrained: It
requires ripenefs of underilanding, and freedom from prejudice,
but nothing elfe.

I take it for granted, that there are felf-evident principles. No-
body, I think, denies it. And if any man were fo fceptical as tQ
deny that there is any propofition that is felf-evident, I fee not how
it would be pofllble to convince him by reafoning.

But yet there feems to be great difference of opinions among
Philofophers about firfl principles. What one takes to be felf-
evident, another labours to prove by arguments, and a third denies
altogether.

Thus,

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 557

Thus, befqre the time of Des Cartes, it was taken for a firft chap, iv.
principle, that there is a fun and a moon, an earth and fea, which
really e?ifi:, whether we think of them or not. Des Cartes
thought that the exiftence of thofe things ought to be proved by
argument; and in this he has been followed by Malebranche,
Arnauld, and Locke. They have all laboured to prove, by very
weak reafoning, the exiftence of external objedls of fenfe ; and ^

Berkeley and Hume, fenfible of the weaknefs of their arguments,
have been led to deny their exiftence altogether.

The ancient, Philofophers granted, that all knowledge muft be
grounded on |irft principles, and that there is no reafoning with-
out them. The Peripatetic philofophy was redundant rather than
deficient in firft principles. Perhaps the abufe of them in that an-
cient fyftem may have brought them into difcredir in modern
times ; for as the beft things may be abufed, fo that abufe is apt
to give a difguft to the thing itfelf ; and as one extreme often leads
into the oppofite, this feems to have been the cafe in the refpetfk
paid to firft principles in ancient and in modern times. :

Des Cartes thought one principle, exprefled in one word cogilo^
a fufficient foundation for his whole fyftem, and afked no more.

Mr Locke feems to think firft principles of very fmall ufe.
Knowledge confifting, according to him, in the perception of the
agreement or difagreement of our ideas ; when we have clear
ideas, and are able to compare thein together, we may always fa-
bricate firft principles as often as we have occafion for them. Such
differences we find among Philofophers about firft principles.

It is likewife a queftion of fome moment, whether the difFercncea
among men about firft principles can be brought to any iffue ?
When, in difputes, one man maintains that to be a firft principle,
which another denies, commonly both parties appeal to common
fenfe, and fo the matter refts. Now, is there no way of difculling

this

5j8 E S S A Y VI.

CHAr. IV. tl^ls appeal ? Is there no mark or criterion, whereby firft principles
that are truly fuch, may be diflinguiflied from thofe that aflume
the charadler withont a juft title ? I fhall humbly ofler in the fol-
lowing proportions what appears to me to be agreeable to truth in
thefe matters, always leady to change my opinion upon convi(5lion.

T. Firjl, I hold it to be certain, and even demonftrable. That all
knowledge got by reafoning mull be built upon firft principles.

This is as certain as that every houfe muft have a foundation.
The power of reafoning, in this refpedl, refembles the mechanical
powers or engines ; it muft have a fixed point to reft upon, other-
wife it fpends its force in the air, and produces no efFedl.

When we examine, in the way of analyfis, the evidence of any
propofition, either we find it felf- evident, or it refts upon one or
more propofitions that fupport it. The fame thing may be faid of
the propofitions that fupport it ; and of thofe that fupport them,
as far back as we can go. But we cannot go back in this track to
infinity. Where then muft this analyfis ftop ? It is evident that it
muft ftop only when we come to propofitions, which fupport all
that are built upon them, but are themfelves fupported by none,
that is, to felf-evident propofitions.

Let us again confider a fynthetical proof of any kind, where
we begin with the premifes, and purfue a train of confequences,
until we come to the laft conclufion, or thing to be proved. Here
we muft begin, either with felf-evident propofitions, or with fuch
as have been already proved. When the laft is the cafe, the proof
of the propofitions, thus afl!umed, is a part of our proof; and the
proof is deficient without it. Suppofe then the deficiency fupplied,
and the proof completed, is it not evident that it muft fet out with
felf-evident propofitions, and that the whole evidence muft reft
upon them ? So that it appears to be demonftrable that, without
firft principles, analytical reafoning could have no end, and fyn-
thetical

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 559

thetical reafoning could have no beginning ; and that every con- CHAP, iv.
clufion got by reafoning muft reft with its whole weight upon firft
principles, as the building does upon its foundation.

2. hfecond propofition is, That fome firft principles yield conclu-
iions that are certain, others fuch as are probable, in various de-
grees, from the higheft probability to the loweft.

In juft reafoning, the ftrength or weaknefs of the conclufion will
always correfpond to that of the principles on which it is grounded.

In a matter of teftimony, it is felf-evident, that the teftimony
of two is better than that of one, fuppofing them equal in cha-
radler, and in their means of knowledge ; yet the fimple teftimony
may be true, and that which is preferred to it may be falfe.

When an experiment has fucceeded in feveral trials, and the cir-
cumftances have been marked with care, there is a felf-evident pro-
bability of its fucceeding in a new trial ; but there is no certain-
ty. The probability, in fome cafes, is much greater than in others ;
becaufe, in fome cafes, it is much eafier to obferve all the circum-
flances that may have influence upon the event than in others.
And it is poffible, that, after many experiments made with care,,
our expedlation may be fruftrated in a fucceeding one, by the va-
riation of fome circumftance that has not, or perhaps could not
be obferved.

Sir Isaac Newton has laid it down as a, firft principle in na-
tural philofophy, that a property which has been found in all bo-
dies upon which we have had accefs to make experiments, and
which has always been found in its quantity to be in exadl propor-
tion to the quantity of matter in every body, is to be held as an
univerfal property of matter.

This principle, as far as I know, has liever been called in que^

ftion;..

56o E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. IV. fliion. The evidence we have, that all matter is divifible, move-
able, folid, and inert, is refolveable into this principle ; and if it
be not true, we cannot have any rational convi(5lion that all matter
has thole properties. From the fame principle that great man has
fhewn, that we have reafon to conclude, that all bodies gravitate
towards each other.

This principle, however, has not that kind of evidence which
mathematical axioms have. It is not a necefTary truth whofe con-
trary is impoffible ; nor did Sir Isaac ever conceive it to be fuch.
And if it fliould ever be found, by juft experiments, that there is
any part in the compofifion of fome bodies which has not gravity,
the fa(fl, if duly afcertained, muft be admitted as an exception to
the general law of gravitation.

* In games of chance, it is a firfl; principle, that every fide of a

die has an equal chance to be turned up ; and that, in a lottery,
every ticket has an equal chance of being drawn out. From fuch
firfl: principles as thefe, which are the befl: we can have in fuch
matters, we may deduce, by demonftrative reafoning, the precife
degree of probability of every event in fuch games.

But the principles of all this accurate and profound reafoning
can never yield a certain conclufion, it being impoffible to fupply
a defedl in the firfl: principles by any accuracy in the reafoning
that is grounded upon them. As water, by its gravity, can rife
no higher in its courfe than the fountain, however artfully it be
condud\ed ; fo no conclufion of reafoning can have a greater de-
^ gree of evidence than the firfl: principles from which it is drawn.

From thefe infl:ances, it is evident, that as there are fome firfl:
principles that yield conclufions of abfolute certainty ; fo there are
others that can only yield probable conclufions ; and that the loweft:
degree of probability mufl: be grounded on firft principles as well
as abfolute certainty.

3. A

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 561

3. A third propofition is, that it would contribute greatly to the CHAP. IV.
(lability of human knowledge, and confequently to the improve-
ment of it, if the firft principles upon which the various parts of-
it are grounded were pointed out and afcertained.

We have ground to think fo, both from fads, and from the na-
ture of the thing.

There are two branches of human knowledge in which this me-
thod has been followed, to wit, mathematics and natural philofo-
phy ; in mathematics, as far back as we have books. It is in this
fcience only, that, for more than two thoufand years fince it be-
gan to be> cultivated, we find no fects, no contrary fyftems, and
hardly any difputes ; or, if there have been difputes, they have
ended as foon as the animofity of parties fubfided, and have never
been again revived. The fcience, once firmly eftablifhed upon the
foundation of a few axioms and definitions, as upon a rock, has
grown from age to age, fo as to become the loftiefl and the moft
folid fabric that human reafon can boaft.

r

Natural philofophy, till lefs than two hundred years ago, re-,
mained in the fame fluctuating (late with the other fciences. Eve-
ry new fydem pulled up the old by the roots. The fyflem-build-
ers, indeed, were always willing to accept of the aid of fird prin-
ciples, when they were of their fide ; but finding them infufficicnt
to fupport the fabric which their imagination had raifed, they were
only brought in as auxiliaries, and fo intermixed with conjedlures,
and with lame indu6lions, that their fyftems were like Nebuchad-
nezzar's image, whofe feet were partly of iron and partly of clay.

Lord Bacon firfl delineated the only folid foundation on which
natural philofophy can be built; and Sir Isaac Newton redu-
ced the principles laid down by Bacon into three or four axioms,
which he calls regula philnfopbandi. From thefe, together with the
phenomena obferved by the fenfes, which he likewife lays down

B b b b as

562 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. IV.
^^ ./— — '

as firfl principles, he deduces, by flridl reafoning, the propofitions
contained in the third book of his Principia, and in his Optics ;
and by this means has raifed a fabric in thofe two branches of na-
tural philofophy, which is not liable to be fhaken by doubtful dif-
putation, but flands immoveable upon the bafis of felf-evident
principles.

This fabric has been carried on by the acceflion of new difco-
veries ; but is no more fubje<fl to revolutions.

The difputes about materia prima, fubftantial forms, Nature's ab-
horring a vacuum, and bodies having no gravitation in their pro-
per place, are now no more. The builders in this work are not
put to the neceflity of holding a weapon in one hand while they
build with the other j their whole employment is to carry on
the work.

Yet it feems to be very probable, that if natural philofophy had
not been reared upon this folid foundation of felf-evident prin-
ciples, it would have been to this day a field of battle, wherein
every inch of ground would have been difputed, and nothing
fixed and determined.

I acknowledge that mathematics and natural philofophy, efpe-
cially the former, have this advantage of moft other fciences, that
it is lefs difficult to form dlftlndl and determinate conceptions of
the obje<5ls about which they are employed ; but as this difficulty
is not infuperable, it affords a good reafon, indeed, why other
fciences fliould have a longer infancy ; but no reafon at all why
they may not at lad arrive at maturity, by the fame fteps as thofe
of quicker growth.

The fad^s I have mentioned may therefore lead us to conclude,
that if in other branches of philofophy the firft principles were
laid down, as has been done in mathematics and natural philo-
fophy,

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. s^i

fophy, and the fubfequent conclufions grounded upon them, this CHAP. IV.
would make it much more eafy to diftingui(h what is folid and
well fupported from the vain fidions of human fancy.

But laying afide fads, the nature of the thing leads to the
fame conclufion.

For when any fyftem is grounded upon firft principles, and de-
duced regularly from them, we have a thread to lead us through
the labyrinth. The judgment has a diftindl and determinate ob-
je(5t. The heterogeneous parts being feparated, can be examined
each by itfelf.

The whole fyftem is reduced to axioms, definitions, and deduc-
tions. Thefe are materials of very different nature, and to be
meafured by a very different ftandard ; and it is much more eafy
to judge of each, taken by itfelf, than to judge of a mafs wherein
they are kneaded together without diftin(5lion. Let us confider
how we judge of each of them.

Firjly As to definitions, the matter is very eafy. They relate
only to words, and differences about them may produce different
ways of fpeaking, but can never produce different ways of think-
ing, while every man keeps to his own definitions.

But as there is not a more plentiful fource of fallacies in rea-
foning than mens ufing the fame word fometimes in one fenfe
and at other times in another, the beft means of preventing fuch
fallacies, or of detedling them when they are committed, is defi-
nitions of words as accurate as can be given.

Secondly, As to deductions drawn from principles granted on
both fides, I do not fee how they can long be a matter of dif-
pute among men who are not blinded by prejudice or partiality :
For the rules of reafoning by which inferences may be drawn

B b b b 2 from

564 E S S A Y VI.

>^
CHAP, iv^ from premifes have been for two thoufand years fixed with great
unanimity. No man pretends to difpute the rules of reafoning
laid down by Aristotle, and repeated by every writer in dialedics.

And we may obferve by the way, that the reafon why Logi-
cians have been fo unanimous in determining the rules of reafon-
ing, from Aristotle down to this day, feems to be, that they
were by that great genius raifed, in a fcientific manner, from a
few definitions and axioms. It may farther be obferved, that
when men differ about a dedudlion, whether it follows from cer-
tain premifes, this I think is always owing to their differing about
fome firft principle. I fliall explain this by an example.

Suppofe that, from a thing having begun to exift, one man in-
fers that it muft have had a caufe ; another man does not admit
the inference. Here it is evident, that the firft takes it for a felf-
evident principle, that every thing which begins to exift muft
have a caufe. The other does not allow this to be felf-evident.
Let them fettle this point, and the difpute will be at an end.

Thus I think it appears, that in matters of fcience, if the terms
be properly explained, the firft principles upon which the reafon-
ing is grounded be laid down and expofed to examination, and the
conclufions regularly deduced from them, it might be expedlied,
that men of candour and capacity, who love truth, and have pa-
tience to examine things coolly, might come to unanimity with
regard to the force of the deductions, and that their differences
might be reduced to thofe they may have about firft principles.

4. A fourth propofition is, that Nature hath not left us defti-
tute of means whereby the candid and honeft part of mankind
may be brought to unanimity when they happen to differ about
firft principles.

>^hen men differ about things that are taken to be firft prin-

' ciples

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 565

clplcs or felf-evident truths, reafoning feems to be at an end. CHAP. iv.
Each party appeals to common fenfe. When one man's common
fenfe gives one determination, another man's a contrary determi-
nation, there feems to be no remedy but to leave every man to
enjoy his own opinion. This is a common obfervation, and I
believe a juft one, if it be rightly underftood.

It is in vain to reafon with a man who denies the firft-principles
on which the reafoning is grounded. Thus, it would be in vain
to attempt the proof of a propofition in Euclid to a man who
denies the axioms. Indeed, we ought never to reafon with men
who deny firft principles from obflinacy and unwillingnefs to
yield to reafon.

But is it not poflible, that men who really love truth, and are
open to convidion, may differ about firft principles ?

I think it is poflible, and that it cannot, without great want of
charity, be denied to be poflible.

When this happens, every man who believes that there is a real
diftindion between truth and error, and that the faculties which
God has given us are not in their nature fallacious, muft be con-
vinced that there is a defedt, or a perverfion of judgment on the
one fide or the other.

A man of candour and humility will, in fuch a cafe, very na-
turally fufpe<5l his own judgment, fo far as to be defirous to enter
into a ferious examination, even of what he has long held as a
firft principle. He will think it not impoffible, that although his
heart be upright, his judgment may have been perverted, by edu-
cation, by authority, by party zeal, or by fome other of the com-
mon caufes of error, from the influence of which neither part»
nor integrity exempt the human underftanding.

In

566 •£ S S A Y VI.

CHAP. IV. In fuch a flate of mind, fo amiable, and fo becoming every
good man, has Nature left him deftitute of any rational means
by which he may be enabled, either to correal his judgment if it
be wrong, or to confirm it if it be right ?

I hope it is not {o. I hope that, by the means which Nature
has furniflied, controverfies about firft principles may be brought
to an ilTue, and that the real lovers of truth may come to unani-
mity with regard to them.

It is true, that, in other controverfies, the procefs by which
the truth of a propofition is difcovered, or its falfehood deteded,
is, by fhewing its neceflTary connedlion with firft principles, or its
repugnancy to them. It is true, likewife, that when the contro-
verfy is, whether a propofition be itfelf a firft principle, this pro-
cefs cannot be applied. The truth, therefore, in controverfies of
this kind, labours under a peculiar difadvantage. But it has ad-
vantages of another kind to compenfate this.

I. For, in the /r/? place, in fuch controverfies, every man is a
competent judge ; and therefore it is difiicult to impofe upon
mankind.

To judge of firft principles, requires no more than a found
mind free from prejudice, and a diftincl conception of the que-
ftion. The learned and the unlearned, the Philofopher and the
day-labourer, are upon a level, and will pafs the fame judgment,
when they are not mifled by fome bias, or taught to renounce their
underftanding from fome miftaken religious principle.

In matters beyond the reach of common underftanding, the
many are led by the few, and willingly yield to their authority.
But, in matters of common fenfe, the few muft yield to the ma-
ny, when local and temporary prejudices are removed. No man
is now moved by the fubtlle arguments of Zeno againft motion,
though perhaps he knows not how to anfvver them.

The

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. s^7

The ancient fceptical fyftem furniilies a remarkable inftance CHAP. IV.
of this truth. That fyftem, of which Pyrrho was reputed
the father, was carried down, through a fuccethon of ages, by
very able and acute Philofophers, who taught men to believe no-
thing at all, and efteemed it the higheft pitch of human wifdom
to with-hold affent from every propofition whatfoever. It was fup-
ported with very great fubtilty and learning, as we fee from the
writings of Sextus Empiricus, the only author of that fedl
whofe writings have come down to our age. The afTault of the
Sceptics againft all fcience feems to have been managed with more
art and addrefs than the defence of the Dogmatifts.

Yet, as this fyftem was an infult upon the common fenfe of man-
kind, it died away of itfelf ; and it would be in vain to attempt to
revive it. The modern fcepticifm is very different from the an-
cient, otherwife it would not have been allowed a hearing ; and,
when it has loft the grace of novelty, it will die away alfo, though
it fhould never be refuted.

The modern fcepticifm, I mean that of Mr Hume, is built up-
on principles which were very generally maintained by Philofo-
phers, though they did not fee that they led to fcepticifm. Mr
Hume, by tracing, with great acutenefs and ingenuity, the con-
fequences of principles commonly received, has fliewn that they
overturn all knowledge, and at laft overturn themfelves, and leave
the mind in perfed fufpenfe.

2. Secondly, We may obferve, that opinions which contradi<5l
firft principles are diftinguifhed from other errors by this ; that
they are not only falfe, but abfurd : And, to difcountenance ab-
furdity, Nature hath given us a particular emotion, to wit, that
of ridicule, which feems intended for this very purpofe of putting
out of countenance what is abfurd, either in opinion or pradlice.

This weapon, when properly applied, cuts with as keen an edge

as

568 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. IV. as argument. Nature hath furnifhed us with the firft to expofe
abfurdity ; as with the lafl to refute error. Both are well fitted
for their feveral offices, and are equally friendly to truth when pro-
perly ufed.

Both may be abufcd to ferve the caufe of error : But the fame
degree of judgment, which ferves to detedl the abufe of argument
in falfe reafoning, ferves to dete(n: the abufe of ridicule when it is
wrong direded.

Some have from nature a happier talent for ridicule than others ;
and the fame thing holds with regard to the talent of reafoning.
Indeed, I conceive there is hardly any abfurdity, which, when
touched with the pencil of a Lucian, a Swift, or a Voltaire,
would not be put out of countenance, when there is not fome religi-
ous panic, or very powerful prejudice, to blind the underftanding.

But it muft be acknowledged, that the emotion of ridicule, even
when mofl natural, may be ftifled by an emotion of a contrary
nature, and cannot operate till that is removed.

Thus, if the notion of fandtity is annexed to an objedt, it is no
longer a laughable matter ; and this vifor muft be pulled off be-
fore it appears ridiculous. Hence we fee, that notions which ap-
pear moft ridiculous to all who confider them coolly and indiffe-
rently, have no fuch appearance to- thofe who never thought of
them, but under the impreffion of religious awe and dread.

Even where religion is not concerned, the novelty of an opinion
to thofe who are too fond of novelties ; the gravity and folemnity
with which it is introduced ; the opinion we have entertained of
the author; its apparent conneflion with principles already em-
braced, or fubferviency to interefts which we have at heart ; and,
above all, its being fixed in our minds at that time of life when
we receive implicitly what we are taught ; may cover its abfurdity,
and fafcinate the underftanding for a time.

But

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 569

But if ever we are able m view it naked, and ftrippcd of thofe CHAP, iv.
adventitious circumflances from which it borrowed its importance
and authority, the natural emotion of ridicule will exert its force.
An abfurdity can be entertained by men of fenfe no longer than
it wears a mafk. When any man is found who has the fkill or
the boldnefs to pull off the mafk, it can no longer bear the light ;
it flinks into dark corners for a while, and then is no more heard
of, but as an obje<5l of ridicule.

Thus I conceive, that firft principles, which are really the dic-
tates of common fenfe, and dire<5lly oppofed to abfurdities in opi-
nion, will always, from the conftitution of human nature, fup-
port themfelves, and gain rather than lofe ground among man-
kind.

3. Thirdly^ It may be obferved, that although it is contrary to
the nature of firfl: principles to admit of dired or apodi£lical T^rooi ;
yet there are certain ways of reafoning even about them, by which
thofe that arejufl and folid may be confirmed, and thofe that are
falfe may be detedled. It may here be proper to mention fome of
the topics from which we may reafon in matters of this kind.

Firfl, It is a good argument ad hominem, if it can be fhewn, that a
firft principle which a man rejedls, ftands upon the fame footing with
others which he admits : For, when this is the cafe, he muft be
guilty of an inconfiftency who holds the one and rejetfts the other.

Thus the faculties of confcioufnefs, of memory, of external fenfe,
and of reafon, are all equally the gifts of Nature. No good rea-
fon can be affigned for receiving the teftimony of one of them,
which is not of equal force with regard to the others. The great-
cfl Sceptics admit the teftimony of confcioufnefs, and allow, that
what it teftifies is to be held as a firft principle. If therefore they
rejeft the immediate teftimony of fenfe, or of memory, they are
guilty of an inconfiftency.

C c c c Secondly y

570

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. IV. Secondly^ A firfl principle may admit of a proof ad obfurdum.

In this kind of proof, which is very common in mathematics,
we fuppofe the contradl6lory propofition to be true. We trace the
confequences of that fuppofition in a train of reafoning ; and if
we find any of its neceflary confequences to be manifeftly abfurd,
we conclude the fuppofition from which it followed to be falfe |.
and therefore its contradidlory to be true.

There is hardly any propofition, efpecially of thofe that may
claim the charadler of firll principles, tliat (lands alone and un-
connecfled. It draws many others along with it in a chain that can-
not be broken. He that takes it up muft bear the burden of alt
its confequences ; and if that is too heavy for him to bear, he
muft not pretend to take it up.

'Thirdly^ I conceive, that the confent of ages and nations, of the
learned and unlearned, ought to have great authority with regard
to firft principles, where every man is a competent judge.

Our ordinary condutfl in life is built upon firft principles, as
well as our fpeculations in philofophy ; and every motive to a<5lion
fnppofes fome belief. When we find a general agreement among
men, in principles that concern human life, this muft have great
authority with every fober mind tliat loves truth.

It is pleafant to obferve the fruitlefs pains which Biiliop Berke-
ley takes to Ihew, that his fyftem of the non-exiftence of a mate-
rial world did not contradid the fentiments of the vulgar, but thofe
only of the Philofophers.

With good reafon he dreaded more to oppofeithb.amhority of
vulgar opinion in a matter of this kind, than aE tEe Schools of
Philofophers.

Here^

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 571

Here perhaps it will be faid, What has authority to do in mat- CHAP. iv.
ters of opinion ? Is truth to be determined by mofl votes ? Or is
authority to be again raifed out of its grave to tyrannife over man-
kind ?

I am aware that, in this age, an advocate for authority has a
very unfavourable plea; but Iwifh to give no more to authority
than is its due.

Mod juftly do we honour the names of thofe benefactors to
mankind who have contributed more or lefs to break the yoke of
that authority which deprives men of the natural, the unalienable
right of judging for themfelves ; but while we indulge a juft ani-
mofity againfl this authority, and againfl all who would fubje<5t us
to its tyranny, let us remember how common the folly is, of going
from one faulty extreme into the oppofite. -

Authority, though a very tyrannical miflrefs to private judg-
ment, may yet, on fome occafions, be a ufeful handmaid j this is
all file is entitled to, and this is all I plead in her behalf. ' '■"'^^-•■

The juftice of this plea will appear by putting a cafe in a fcience,
in which, of all fciences, authority is acknowledged to have leaft
weight. --

Suppofe a Mathematician has made a difcovcry in that fcience
which he thinks important ; that he has put his demonftration in
juft order ; and, after examining it with an attentive eye, has found
no flaw in it ; I would aflt. Will there not be ftill in his breaft
fbme diffidence, fome jealoufy leaft the ardour of invention may
have made him overlook fome falfe ftep ? This muft be granted.

He commits his demonftration to the examination of a mathe-
matical friend, whom he efteems a competent judge, and waits
with impatience the ifTue of his judgment. Here I would aflc again,

C c c c 2 Whether

572 ESSAY VI.

^^j^^-^- Whether the verdidl of his friend, according as it is favourable or
unfavourable, will not greatly increafe or diminifli his confidence
in his own judgment ? Moft certainly it will, and it ought.

If the judgment of his friend agree with his own, efpecially if it
be confirmed by two or three able judges, he refts fecure of his
difcovery without farther examination ; but if it be unfavourable,
he is brought back into a kind of fufpenfe, until the part that is
fufpe<^ed undergoes a new and a more rigorous examination.

I hope what is fuppofed in this cafe is agreeable to nature, and
to the experience of candid and modeft men on fuch occafions ; yet
here we fee a man's judgment, even in a mathematical demonftra-
tion, confcious of fame feeblenefs in itfelf, feeking the aid of au-
thority to fupport it, greatly ftrengthened by that authority, and
hardly able to ftand cr^6t againfl: it, without fome new aid.

Society in judgment, of thofe who are efteemed fair and compe-
tent judges, has effedls very fimilar to thofe of civil fociety ; it gives
ftrength and courage to every individual ; it removes that timidity
which is as naturally the companion of folitary judgment, as of a
folitary man in the ftate of nature.

Let us judge for ourfelves therefore, but let us not difdain to
take that aid from the authority of other competent judges, which
a Mathematician thinks it neceflary to take in that fcience, which
of all fciences has leafl: to do with authority.

In a matter of common fenfe, every man is no lefs a competent
judge than a Mathematician is in a mathematical demonftration ;
and there muft be a great prefumption that the judgment of man-
kind, in fuch a matter, is the natural ilTue of thofe faculties which
God hath given them. Such a judgment can be erroneous only
when there is fome caufe of the error, as general as the error is :
When this can be fhewn. to be the cafe, I acknowledge it ought to

have

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. 573

have its due weight. But to fuppofe a general deviation from truth CHAP, iv.
among mankind in things felf-evident, of which no caufe can be
affigned, is highly unreafonable.

Perhaps it may be thought impofllble to colle<5l the general opi-
nion of men upon any point whatfoever ; and therefore, that this
authority can ferve us in no (lead in examining firft principles.
But I apprehend, that in many cafes this is neither impoflible nor
difficult.

Who can doubt whether men have univerfally believed the ex-
iftence of a material world ? Who can doubt whether men have
univerfally believed, that every change that happens in nature muft
have a caufe ? Who can doubt whether men have univerfally be-
lieved, that there is a right and a wrong in human condudl ; fome
things that merit blame, and others that are entitled to approbation ?

The univerfality of thefe opinions, and of many fuch that might
be named, is fufEciently evident, from the whole tenor of human
condudl, as far as our acquaintance reaches, and from the hiftory
of all ages and nations of which we liave any records.

There are other opinions that appear to be univerfal, from what
is common in the ftrudlure of all languages.

Language is the exprefs image and pldure of human thoughts;
and from the pidure we may draw fome certain conclufions con-
cerning the original.

• We find in all languages the fame parts of fpeech ; we find nouns,
fubftantive and adjedive ; verbs, adlive and paflive, in their vari-
ous tenfes, numbers, and moods. Some rules of fyntax are the
fame in all languages.

Now what is common in the ftrudure of languages, indicates aa

uaiformity

574 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. IV. uniformity of opinion in thofe things upon which that ftrudlure is
grounded.

The diftindion between fubflances, and the qualities belonging
to them ; between thought, and the being that thinks ; between
thought, and the objedts of thought; is to be found in the ftrucflure
of all languages : And therefore, fyftems of philofophy, which
abolilh thofe diftindions, wage war with the common fenfe of
mankind.

We are apt to imagine, that thofe who formed languages were no
Metaphyficians ; but the firft principles of all fclences are the dic-
tates of common fenfe, and lie open to all men ; and every man
who has confidered the ftrudlure of language in a philofophical
light, will find infallible proofs that thofe who have framed it, and
thofe who ufe it with underftanding, have the power of making
accurate diftin(5lions, and of forming general conceptions, as well
as Philofophers. Nature has given thofe powers to all men, and
they can ufe them when their occafions require it ; but they leave
it to the Philofophers to give names to them, and to defcant upon
their nature. In like manner, Nature has given eyes to all men,
and they can make good ufe of them ; but the flrudlure of the eye,
and the theory of vifion, is the bufmefs of Philofophers.

Fourthly^ Opinions that appear fo early in the minds of men,
that they cannot be the effedl of education, or of falfe reafoning,
have a good claim to be confidered as firft principles. Thus the
belief we have, that the perfons about us are living and intelligent
beings, is a belief for which perhaps we can give fome reafon,
when we are able to rCafon ; but we had this belief before we could
reafon, and before we could learn it by inftrudion. It feems
therefore to be an immediate efFe<S of our conrtitution.

The iajl topic I fliall mention is, when an opinion is fo necelTary
in the condud of life, that without the belief of it, a man muft be

led

OF FIRST PRINCIPLES IN GENERAL. . 575

led into a thaufand abfurdities in pra(5lice, fuch an opinion, when CHAP. IV,
we can give no other reafon for it, may fafely be taken for a firft
principle.

Thus I have endeavoured to fhew, that although firft principles
are not capable of dire<fl: proof, yet differences, chat may happen
with regard to them among men of candour, are not without re-
medy ; that Nature has not left us deftitute of means by which
we may difcover errors of this kind ; and that there are ways of
reafoning, with regard to firft principles, by which thofe that are
truly fuch maybe diftinguiftied from vulgar errors or prejudices.

CHAP. V.

The firji Principles of contingent Truths.

" C* URELY, fays Biftiop Berkeley, it is a work well defer-
^^ ving our pains, to make a ftrid: enquiry concerning the firft
" principles of knowledge ; to fift and examine them on all fides."
What was fa id in the laft chapter, is intended both to fhew the im-
portance of this enquiry, and to make it more eafy.

But, in order that fuch an enquiry may be actually made, it is
neceflary that the firft principles of knowledge be diftinguiflied
from other truths, and prefented to view, that they may be fifted
and examined on all fides. In order to this end, I fhall attempt 21
detail of thofe I take to be fuch, and of the reafons why I think
them entitled to that chara<fler.

H:the enumeration Ihould appear to fome reduh^rit, to others
deficient, and to others both ; if things, which I conceive to be firft
principles, ftiould to others appear to be vulgar errors, or to be
truths which derive their evidence from other truths, and there-
fore

576 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. ^ fore not firfl principles ; in thefe things every man muft judge for
himfelf. I fhall rejoice to fee an enumeration more perfe<5l in any
or in all of thofe refpedls ; being perfuaded, that the agreement of
men of judgment and candour in firft principles, would be of no
lefs confequence to the advancement of knowledge in general, than
the agreement of Mathematicians in the axioms of geometry has
been to the advancement of that fcience.

The truths that fall within the compafs of human knowledge,
whether they be felf-evident, or deduced from thofe that are felf-
evidenr, may be reduced to two clafles. They are either neceflary
and immutable truths, whofe contrary is impoffible, or they are
contingent and mutable, depending upon fome effed of will and
power, which had a beginning, and may have an end.

That a cone is the third part of a cylinder of the fame bafe and
the fame altitude, is a neceflary truth. It depends not upon the
will and power of any being. It is immutably true, and the con-
trary impoffible. That the fun is the centre, about which the earth,
and the other planets of our fyftem, perform their revolutions, is a
truth ; but it is not a neceffary truth. It depends upon the power
and will of that Being who made the fun and all the planets, and
who gave them thofe motions that feemed beft to him.

If all truths were necefHiry truths, there would be no occafion
for different tenfes in the verbs by which they are expreffed. What
is true in the prefent time, would be true in the pafl and future ;
and there would be no change or variation of any thing in nature.

We ufe the prefent tenfe in exprefling neceffary truths ; but it is
only becaufe there is no flexion of the verb which includes all
times. When I fay that three is the half of fix, I ufe the prefent
tenfe only ; but I mean to exprefs not only what now is, but what
always was, and always will be ; and fo every propofition is to be
underflood by which we mean to exprefs a neceffary truth. Con-
tingent

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 577

tingent truths are of another nature. As they are mutable, they pHAP. v.^
may be true at one time, and not at another ; and therefore the
expreffion of them mud include fome point or period of time.

If language had been a contrivance of Philofophers, they would
probably have given fome flexion to the indicative mood of verbs,
which extended to all times pad, prefent, and future ; for fuch a
flexion only would be fit to exprefs neceflary propofitions, which
have no relation to time. But there is no language, as far as I
know, in which fuch a flexion of verbs is to be found. Becaufc
the thoughts and difcourfe of men are feldom employed about ne-
ceflTary truths, but commonly about fuch as are contingent ; lan-
guages are fitted to exprefs the laft rather than the firft.

The diftindlion commonly made between abflratfl truths, and
thofe that exprefs matters of fad, or real exiftences, coincides in
a great meafure, but not altogether, with that between neceflary
and contingent truths. The necefl^ary truths that fall within our
knowledge are for the mod part abftradl truths. We muft except
the exiflence and nature of the Supreme Being, which is necefla-
ry. Other exifl:ences are the efledls of will and power. They had
a beginning, and are mutable. Their nature is fuch as the Su-
preme Being was pleafed to give them. Their attributes and rela-
tions muft depend upon the nature God has given them ; the
powers with which he has endowed them ; and the fituation in
which he hath placed them.

The conclufions deduced by reafoning from firft principles, will
commonly be neceflary or contingent, according as the principles
are from which they are drawn. On the one hand, I take it to be
certain, that whatever can, by juft reafoning, be inferred from a
principle that is neceflary, muft be a neceflary truth, and that no
contingent truth can be inferred from principles that are neceflary.

Thus, as the axioms in mathematics are all necefl^ary truths ; fo

D d d d arc

578 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. ^j.g ^]j fjjg conclufions drawn from them ; that is, the whole body
of that fcience. But from no mathematical truth can we deduce
the exiflence of any thing ; not even of the objeifts of the fcience.

On the other hand, I apprehend there are very few cafes in
which we can, from principles that are contingent, deduce truths
that are neceflary. I can only recolle(5t one inllance of this kind,
namely, that, from the exiftence of things contingent and mu-
table, we can infer the exiflence of an immutable and eternal
caufe of them.

As the minds of men are occupied much more about truths that
are contingent than about thofe that are neceflary, I Ihall firfl en-
deavour to point out the principles of the former kind.

I. Flr/^, then, I hold, as a firft principle, the exiftence of eve-
ry thing of which I am confcious.

Confcioufnefs is an operation of the underftanding of its own
kind, and cannot be logically defined. The objedls of it are our
prefent pains, our pleafures, our hopes, our fears, our defires, our
doubts, our thoughts of every kind ; in a word, all the paflions,
and all the adlions and operations of our own minds, while they
are prefent. We may remember them when they are paft ; but
we are confcious of them only while they are prefent.

When a man is confcious of pain, he is certain of its exiftence;
when he is confcious that he doubts, or believes, he is certain of
the exiftence of thofe operations.

But the irrefiftible convidlion he has of the reality of thofe ope-
rations is not the eff'ed of reafoning ; it is immediate and intuitive.
The exiftence therefore of thofe paflions and operations of our
minds, of which we are confcious, is a firft principle, which Na-
ture requires us to believe upon her authority.

If

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 579

If I am afked to prove that I cannot be deceived by confciouf- CHAP, v^
nefs ; to prove that it is not a fallacious fenfe ; I can find no
proof. I cannot find any antecedent truth from which it is dedu-
ced, or upon which its evidence depends. It feems to difdain any
fuch derived authority, and to claim my affent in its own right.

If any man could be found fo frantic as to deny that he thinks,
while he is confcious of it ; I may wonder, I may laugh, or I may
pity him, but I cannot reafon the matter with him. We have no
common principles from which we may reafon, and therefore can
never join iflue in an argument.

This, I think, is the only principle of common fenfe that has
never diredlly been called in queflion. It feems to be fo firmly
rooted in the minds of men, as to retain its authority with the
greateft Sceptics. Mr Hume, after annihilating body and mind,
time and fpace, a(5lion and caufatlon, and even his own mind, ac-
knowledges the reality of the thoughts, fenfations and paffions of
•which he is confcious.

No Philofopher has attempted by any hypothefis to account for
this confcioufnefs of our own thoughts, and the certain knowledge
of their real exiftence which accompanies it. By this they feem
to acknowledge, that this at leaft is an original power of the mind;
a power by which we not only have ideas, but original judgments,
and the knowledge of real exiftence.

I cannot reconcile this immediate knowledge of the operations
of our own minds with Mr Locke's theory, that all knowledge
confifts in perceiving the agreement and difagreement of ideas.
Wiiat are the ideas, from whofe comparifon the knowledge of our
own thoughts refults ? Or what are the agreements or difagreements
■which convince a man that he is in pain when he feels it ?

Neither can I reconcile it with Mr Hume's theory, that to be-

D d d d 2 lieve

58o ' ESSAY VI.

CHAP, y.^ Heve the exiftence of any thing, is nothing elfe than to have a
ftrong and lively conception of it ; or, at mod, that belief is only
fome modification of the idea which is the objedt of belief. For
not to mention, that propofitions, not ideas, are the obje(5l of be-
lief; in all that variety of thoughts and paflions, of which we are
confcious, we believe the exiftence of the weak as well as of the
ftrong, the faint as well as the lively. No modification of the ope-
rations of our minds difpofes us to the leaft doubt of their real
exiftence.

» As therefore the real exiftence of our thoughts, and of all the
operations and feelings of our own minds, is believed by all men;.
as we find ourfelves incapable of doubting it, and as incapable of
offering any proof of it, it may juftly be confidercd as a firft prittr
ciple, or dicState of common fenfe.

But although this principle refts upon no other, a very confider-
able and important branch of human knowledge refts upon it.

For from this fource of confcioufnefs is derived all that we know,
and indeed all that we can know, of the ftrudlure, and of the
powers of our own minds ; from which we may conclude, that
there is no branch of knowledge that ftands upon a firmer foun-
dation ; for furely no kind of evidence can go beyond that of con-
fcioufnefs.

How does it come to pafs then, that in this branch of knowledge
there are fo many and fo contrary fyftems ? ib many fubtile con-
troverfies that are never brought to an iflue, and fo little fixed and
determined? Is it poffible that Philofophers Ihould differ moft where
rhey have the fureft means of agreement ? where- every thing is
built upon a fpecies of evidence which all m«n acqviiefce in, and
hold to be the moft certain ?

This ftrange phaenomenon may, I think, be accounted for, if we

diftinguifh

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 581

dlflinguifh between eonfcioufnefs and reflection, which are often p^AP- V-^
improperly confounded.

The firft is common to alt men at all times, but is inftifEcient:
of itfelf to give us clear and diftindt notions of the operations of
which we arc confcious, and of their mutual relations, and minute
diftindlions. The fecond, to wit, attentive retledlion upon thofe
operations, making them objeds of thought, furveying them at-
tentively, and examining them on all fides, is fo far from being,
common to all men, that it is the lot of very few. The greateft
part of men, either through want of capacity, or from other caufes,
never reflecfl attentively upon the operations of their own minds. .
The habit of this refledtion, even in thofe whom Nature has fitted
for it, is not to be attained without much pains and pradlice.

9

We can know nothing of the immediate obje^s of fight, but by

the teftimony of our eyes ; and I apprehend, that if mankind had
found as great diiEculty in giving attention to the objedls of fight,
as they find in attentive refle6lion upon the operations of their
own minds, our knowledge of the firft might have been in as back-
ward a. ftate as our knowledge of the laft. '

But this darknefs will not laft for ever. Light will arlfe upon
this benighted part of the intelledlual globe. When any man is fo
happy as to delineate the powers of the human mind as tiiey really
are in nature, men that are free from prejudice, and capable of re-
fledlion, will recognife their own features in the pi(5ture ; and then
the wonder will be, how things fo obvious could be fo long wrap-
ped up in myftery and darknefs ; how men could be carried away
by falfe theories and conjedures, when the truth was to be found
in their own breafts if they had but attended to it.

2. Another firft principle, I think, is. That the thoughts of which
I am confcious, are the thoughts of a being which I call mxfelf,

my mind^ my per/on.

The

SS2 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP, v, -pi^g thoughts and feelings of which we are confcious are conti-
nually changing, and the thought of this moment is not the thought
of the laft ; but fomething which I call myfelf, remains under this
change of thought. This felf has the fame relation to all the fuc-
ceffive thoughts 1 am confcious of, they are all my thoughts ; and
every thought which is not my thought, muft be the thought of
fome other perfon.

If any man afks a proof of this, I confefs I can give none ; there
is an evidence in the propofition itfelf which I am unable to refill.
Shall I think, that thought can ftand by itfelf without a thinking
being ? or that ideas can feel pleafure or pain ? My nature didlates
to me that it is impoflible.

And that Nature has dldlated the fame to all men, appears from
the ftru(5lure of all languages : For in all languages men have ex-
preiTed thinking, reafoning, willing, loving, hating, by perfonal
verbs, which from their nature require a perfon who thinks, rea-
fons, wills, loves, or hates. From which it appears, that men have
been taught by Nature to believe that thought requires a thinker,
reafon a reafoner, and love a lover.

Here we mufl leave Mr Hume, who conceives it to be a vulgar
en or, that befides the thoughts we are confcious of, there is a mind
which is the fubjed of thofe thoughts. If the mind be any thing
elfe than impreflions and ideas, it muft be a word without a mean-
^ ing. The mind therefore, according to this Philofopher, is a word

which fignifies a bundle of perceptions ; or, when he defines it
more accurately, " It is that fucceffion of related ideas and imprcf-
" lions, of which we have an intimate memory and confcioufnefs."

I am, therefore, that fucceflion of related ideas and impreflions
of which I have the intimate memory and confcioufnefs.

But who is the / that has this memory and confcioufnefs of a

fucceflion

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 583

fucceflionof ideas and impreffions ? Why, it is nothing but that CHAP, v.
fucceflion itfelf.

Hence I learn, that this fucceflion of ideas and imprefllons in-
timately remembers, and is confcious of itfelf. I would wiih to
be farther inflrudled, whether the imprefllons remember and are
confcious of the ideas, or the ideas remember and are confcious
of the impreihons, or if both remember and are confcious of both I
and whether the ideas remember thofe that come after them, as
well as thofe that were before them ? Thefe are queftions naturally
arifing from this fyltem, that have not yet been explained.

This, however, is clear, that this fucceflion of ideas and impref-
fions, not only remembers and is confcious, but that it judges, rea-
fons, afSrms, denies ; nay, that it eats and drinks, and is fometimes
merry, and fometimes fad.

If thefe things can be afcribed to a fucceflion of ideas and iirr-
preffions, in a confifliency with common fenfe, I fliould be very
glad to know what is nonfenfe.

The fcholaflic Philofophers have been wittily ridiculed, by re-
prefenting them as difputing upon this queftion, Num chimara bom^
binans in vacuo pojfit comedere fecundas intent'tones ? and I believe the
wit of man cannot invent a more ridiculous quefliion. But, if Mr
Hume's philofophy be admitted, this quefl:ion deferves to be treated
more gravely : For if, as we learn from this philofophy, a fuccef*
fion of ideas and impreflions may eat, and drink, and be merry, I
fee no good reafon why a chimera, which if not the fame, is of kin
to an idea, may not chew the cud upon that kind of food, which
the Ichoolmen call fecond intentions.

3. Another firfl; principle I take to be, That thofe things did really
happen which I diftintftly remember.

This

j;84 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. rp2^j^ jj^g Qj^g q£ (.jjg fureft marks of a firfl: principle ; for no man
ever pretended to prove it, and yet no man in his wits calls it in
queftion ; the teftimony of memory, like that of confcloufnefs, is
immediate ; it claims om- affent upon its own authority.

>^uppofe that a learned counfel, in defence of a client againfl: the
concurring teftimony of witnefTes of credit, fhould infift upon a
new topic to invalidate the teftimony. " Admitting," fays he,
" the integrity of the witnefTes, and that they diftinflly remember
" what they have given in evidence ; it does not follow that the
*' prlfoner is guilty. It has never been proved that the moft di-
" ftin<5l memory may not be fallacious. Shew me any neceflfary
" connection between that adl of the mind which we call memory,
" and the paft exlftence of the «vent remembered. No man has
" ever offered a fhadow of argument to prove fuch a conneclion ;
" yet this is one link of the chain of proof againft the prlfoner ;
" and if it have no ftrength, the whole proof falls to the ground :
" Until this, therefore, be made evident, until it can be proved,
*' that we may fafely reft upon the teftimony of memory for the
" truth of paft events, no judge or jury can juftly take away the
■" life of a citizen upon fo doubtful a point."

I believe we may take it for granted, tliat this argument from
a learned counfel would have no other efFedl upon the judge or
jury, than to convince them that he was difordered in his judg-
ment. Counfel is allowed to plead every thing for a client that
is fit to perfuade or to move^ yet I believe no counfel ever had the
boldnefs to plead this topic. And for what reafon ? For no other
reafon, furely, but becaufe it is abfurd. Now, what is abfurd at
the bar, is fo in the Philofopher's chair. What would be ridicu-
lous, if delivered to a jury of honeft fenfible citizens, is no lefs
fo when delivered gravely in a philofophlcal difTertation.

Mr Hume has not, as far as .1 remember, diredly called in
queftion the teftimony of memory ; but he has laid down the pre-

mifes

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. s^S

mifes by which its authority is overturned, leaving it to his reader CHAP, v.
to draw the conclufion.

He labours to fhew, that the belief or aflent which always at-
tends the memory and fenfes is nothing but the vivacity of thofe
perceptions which they prefent. He fliews very clearly, that this
vivacity gives no ground to believe the exiftence of external ob-
je<5ls. And it is obvious, that it can give as little ground to believe
the paft exiftence of the objedls of memory.

Indeed the theory concerning ideas, fo generally received by
Philofophers, deftroys all the authority of memory, as well as the
authority of the fenfes. Des Cartes, Malebranche, and
Locke, were aware that this theory made it necefTary for them
to find out arguments to prove the exiftence of external objecfls,
which the vulgar believe upon the bare authority of their fenfes ;
but thofe Philofophers were not aware, that this theory made it
equally neceflary for them to find arguments to prove the exiftence
of things paft, which we remember, and to fupport the authority
of memory.

All the arguments they advanced to fupport the authority of
our fenfes, were eafily refuted by Bifliop Berkeley and Mr
Hume, being indeed very weak and inconclufive. And it would
have been as eafy to anfwer every argument they could have
brought, confiftent with their theory, to fupport the authority of
memory.

For, according to that theory, the immediate objedl of memory,
as well as of every other operation of the underftanding, is an
idea prefent in the mind. And, from the prefent exiftence of this
idea of memory I am left to infer, by reafoning, that fix months,
or fix years ago, there did cxift an objedl fimilar to this idea.

But what is there in the idea that can lead me to this conclu-

E e e e fion ?

586 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. (Jq^ ? What mark does it bear of the date of its archetype ? Or
what evidence have I that it had an archetype, and that it is not
the firft of its kind ?

Perhaps it will be faid, that this idea or image in the mind
mufl have had a caufe.

I admit, that if there is fuch an image in the mind it muft have
had a caufe, and a caufe able to produce the efFeft ; but what can
we infer from its having a caufe ? Does it follow that the effccl is
a type, an image, a copy of its caufe ? Then it will follow, that
a pi(5lure is an image of the painter, and a coach of the coach-
maker.

A pafl: event may be known by reafoning, but that is not re-
membering it. When I remember a thing diftindtly, I difdain
equally to hear reafons for it or againft it. And fo I think does
every man in his fenfes.

4. Another firft principle is our own perfonal identity and con-
tinued exiftence, as far back as we remember any thing diftiniflly.

This we know immediately, and not by reafoning. It feems,
indeed, to be a part of the teftimony of memory. Every thing
we remember has fuch a relation to ourfelves, as to imply necef-
farily our exiftence at the time remembered. And there cannot
be a more palpable abfurdlty than that a man fliould remember
what happened before he exifted. He muft therefore have exifted
as far back as he remembers any thing diftindlly, if his memory
be not fallacious. This principle, therefore, is fo conneded with
the laft mentioned, that it may be doubtful whether both ought
not to be included in one. Let every one judge of this as he fees
reafon. The proper notion of identity, and the fentiments of
Mr Locke on this fubjedl, have been confidered before under the
head of memory.

.5. Another

EIRST PRINCIPLES OF-CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 587

5. Another firft principle is, That thofe things do really exift chap, v^
which we diflindtly perceive by our fenfes, and are what we per-
ceive them to be.

It is too evident to need proof, that all men are by nature led
to give implicit faith to the diftincl teflimony of their fenfes, long
before they are capable of any bias from prejudices of education
or of philofophy.

How came we at firft to know that there are certain beings
about us whom we call father, and mother, and fiflers, and bro-
thers, and nurfe ? Was it not by the teftimony of our fenfes ?
How did thefe perfons convey to us any information or inftruc-
tion ? Was it not by means of our fenfes ?

It is evident we can have no communication, no correfpondence
or fociety with any created being, but by means of our fenfes.
And until we rely upon their teftimony, we muft confider our-
felves as being alone in the univerfe, without any fellow-creature,
living or inanimate, and be left to converfe with our own thoughts.

Bifhop Berkeley furely did not duly confider, that it is by
means of the material world that we have any correfpondence
with thinking beings, or any knowledge of their exiftence, and
that by depriving us of the material world, he deprived us at the
fame time of family, friends, country, and every human creature ;
of every objed. of afFedlion, efteem or concern, except ourfelves.

The good Bilhop furely never intended this. He was too warm
a friend, too zealous a patriot, and too good a Ghriftian, to be
capable of fuch a thought. He was not aware of the confequen-
ces of his fyftem, and therefore they ought not to be imputed to
him ; but we muft impute them to the fyftem itfelf. It ftifles
every generous and focial principle.

E e e e a When

588 ESSAY VI.

CHAI\V. When I confider myfelf as fpeaking to men who hear me, and
can judge of what I fay, I feel that refpedl which is due to fuch an
audience. I feel an enjoyment in a reciprocal communication of
fentiments with candid and ingenious friends, and my foul blef-
fes the Author of my being, who has made me capable of this
manly and rational entertainment.

But the Bifliop fliews me, that this is all a dream ; that I fee
not a human face ; that all the objeds I fee, and hear, and handle,
are only the ideas of my own mind ; ideas are my only compa-
nions. Cold company, indeed ! Every focial affection freezes at
the thought !

But, my Lord Bifhop, are there no minds left in the univerfa
but my own ?

Yes, indeed ; it is only the material world that is annihilated ;
every thing elfe remains as it was.

This feems to promlfe fome comfort in my forlorn folitude. But
do 1 fee thofe minds ? No. Do I fee their ideas ? No. Nor do
they fee me or my ideas. They are then no more to me than the
inhabitants of Solomon's ifles,or of the moon; and my melan-
choly folitude returns. Every focial tie is broken, and every focial
affedion is flifled.

This difmat fyflem, which, if it could be believed, would de-
prive men of every focial comfort, a very good Bifhop, by ftridl
^ and accurate reafoning, deduced from the principles commonly re-

ceived by Philofophers concerning ideas. The fault is not in the
reafoning, but in the principles from which it is drawn..

All the arguments urged by Berkeley and Hume againft the
exiftence of a material world are grounded upon this principle,
That we do not perceive external objeds themfelves, but certain

images

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 589.

images or ideas in our own minds. But this is no didate of com- CHAP. v.
mon fenfe, but diredlly contrary to the fenfe of all who have not
been taught it by philofophy.

We have before examined the reafons given by Philofophers, 'to-
prove that ideas, and not external objedls, are the immediate ob-
jedls of percepvtion, and the inflances given to prove the fenfes fal-
lacious. Without repeatuig what has before been faid upon thofe
points, we fliall only here obferve, that if external objects be per-
ceived immediately, we have the lame reafon to believe their exift-
ence as Philofophers have to believe the exiltence of ideas, while
they hold them to be the immediate objects of perception.

6. Another firft principle, I think, is, That we have fome degree
of power over our actions, and the determinations of our will.

All power mufl be derived from the fountain of power, and of
every good gift. Upon his good pleafure its continuance depends,,,
and it is always fubjeit to his controL

Beings to whom God has given any degree of power, and un-
derftanding to diredl them to the proper ufe of it, mud be account-
able to their Maker. But thofe who are intruded with no power,,
can have no account to make ; for all good condu6l confifts in the-
right ufe of power j all bad condudl in the abufe of it.

To call to account a being who never was intruded with. any.
degree of power, is an abfurdity no lefs than it would be to call.
to. account an inanimate being.. We are fure, therefore, if we.
have any account to make to the Author of our being, that we
muft have fome degree of power, which, as^ far as it is properly
ufed, entitles us to his approbation j and, when abufed, renders us
obnoxious to his difpleafure.

It is not eafy to fay in what way we firft get the notion. or idea^

of"

590 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. of power. It is neither an objecl of fenfe nor of confcioufnefs.
We fee events, one fucceeding another ; but we fee not the power
by which they are prodviced. We are confcious of the operations
of our minds ; but power is not an operation of mind. If we had
no notions but fuch as arc furaifhed by the external fenfes, and by
confcioufnefs, it feems to be impoffible that w^e fliould ever have
any conception of power. Accordingly, Mr Hume, who has rea-
foned the mod accurately upon this hypothefis, denies that we have
any idea of power, and clearly refutes the account given by Mr
Locke of the origin of this idea.

But it is in vain to reafon from a hypothefis againfl a faiH:, the
truth of which every man may fee by attending to his own
thoughts. It is evident, that all men, very early in life, not only
have an idea of power, but a convidlion that they have fome de-
gree of it in themfelves : For this convicflion is neceflarily implied
in many operations of mind, which are familiar to every man, and
without which no man can a6l the part of a xxafonable being.

F/V/?, It is implied in every adl of volition. " Volition, it is
'" plain, fays Mr Locke, is an adl of the mind, knowingly exert-
" ing that dominion which it takes itfelf to have over any pare
*' of the man, by employing it in, or with-holding it from any
*' particular adlion." Every volition therefore implies a convl(fl;ion
of power to do the adtion willed. A man may defirc to make a
vifit to the moon, or to the planet Jupiter ; but nothing but infa-
■nity could make him will to do fo. And if even infanity produ-
ced this effe(5t, it muft be by making him think it to be in his
power.

Secondly, This conviction is implied in all deliberation ; for no
man in his wits deliberates whether he fliall do what he believes
not to be in his power. Thirdly, The fame convidlion is implied
in every refolution or purpofe formed in confequence of delibera-
tion. A man may as well form a refolution to pull the moon out

of

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 591

of her fphere, as to do the moil infigniflcant adion which he be- CHAP, v^
lieves not to be in his power. The fame thing may be faid of eve-
ry promife or contra(5l wherein a man plights his faith ; for he is
not an honeft man who promifes what he does not beUeve he has
power to perform.

As thefe operations imply a belief of fome degree of power in
ourfelves ; fo there are others equally common and familiar, which
imply a like belief with regard to others.

When we impute to a man any acftion or omiflion, as a ground
of approbation or of blame, we muft believe he had power to do
otherwife. The fame is implied in all advice, exhortation, com-
mand, and rebuke, and in every cafe in which we rely upon his
fidelity in performing any engagement, or executing any truft.

It is not more evident that mankind have a conviclion of the
exiftence of a material world, than that they have the conviction
of fome degree of power in themfelves, and in others ; every one
over his own actions, and the determinations of his will : A con-
vi<flion fo early, fo general, and fo interwoven with the whole of
human condud, that it mufl: be the natural effedl of our conftitu-
tion, and intended by the Author of our being to guide our adlions.

It refembles our convidlion of the exiftence of a material world
in this refped alfo, that even thofe who rejecl it in« fpeculation,
find themfelves under a neceflity of being governed by it in their
pradice ? and thus it will always happen when philofophy contra-
dids firft principles.

7. Another firft principle is, That the natural faculties, by which
we diftinguifli truth from error, are not fallacious. If any man
ftiould demand a proof of this, it is impofiible to fatisfy him. For
fuppofe it Iliould be mathematically demonftrated, this would fig-

nify

592 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. V. nify nothing in this cafe; becaufe, to judge of a demonflration,
a man mufl truft his faculties, and take for granted the very thing
in queftion.

If a man's honefty were called in queftion, it would be ridicu-
lous to refer it to the man's own word, whether he be honeft or
not. The fame abfurdity there is in attempting to prove, by any
kind of reafoning, probable or demonftrative, that our reafon is not
fallacious, fince the very point in queflion is, whether reafon-
ing may be trufted.

If a Sceptic Ihould build his fcepticifm upon this foundation,
that all our reafoning and judging powers are fallacious in their
nature, or fhould refolve at leaft to with-hold affent until it be
proved that they are not; it would be impoflible by argument to
beat him out of this ftrong hold, and he mull even be left to en-
joy his fcepticifm.

Des Cartes certainly made a falfe ftep in this matter ; for ha-
ving fuggefted this doubt among others, that whatever evidence he
might have from his confcioufnefs, his fenfes, his memory, or
his reafon j yet poffibly fome malignant being had given him thofe
faculties on purpofe to impofe upon him ; and therefore, that they
are not to be trufted without a proper voucher : To remove this
doubt, he endeavours to prove the being of a Deity who is no
deceiver ; whence he concludes, that the faculties he had given
him are true and worthy to be trufted.

It is ftrange that fo acute a reafoner did not perceive, that in this
reafoning there is evidently a begging of the queftion.

For if our faculties be fallacious, why may they not deceive us
in this reafoning as well as in others ? And if they are to be trufted
in this inftance without a voucher, why not in others ?

Every .

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 593

Every kind of reafon'mg for the veracity of our faculties, amounts CHAP, v.^
to no more than taking their own teftimony for their veracity ;
and this we mufl: do implicitly, until God give us new faculties to
fit in judgment upon the old ; and the reafbn why Des Cartes
fatisfied himfelf with fo weak an argument for the truth of his fa-
culties, moft probably was, that he never ferioufly doubted of it.

If any truth can be faid to be prior to all others in the order of
nature, this feems to have the beft claim ; becaufe in every inftance
of affent, whether upon intuitive, demonftrative, or probable evi-
dence, the truth of our faculties is taken for granted, and is, as it
were, one of the premifes on which our aflent is grounded.

How then come we to be alTured of this fundamental truth on
which all others reft ? Perhaps evidence, as in many other refpeds
it refembles light, fo in this alfo, that as light, which is the difco-
verer of all vifible objedls, difcovers itfelf at the fame time ; Co evi-
dence, which is the voucher for all truth, vouches for itfelf at the
fame time.

This, however, is certain, that fuch is the conftitution of the
human mind, that evidence difcerned by us, forces a correfpond-
ing degree of affent. And a man who perfetflly underftood a juft
fyllogifm, without believing that the conclufion follows from the
premifes, would be a greater monfter than a man born without
hands or feet.

We are born under a neceffity of trufting to our reafoning and
judging powers ; and a real belief of their being fallacious can-
not be maintained for any confiderable time by the greateft Scep-
tic, becaufe it is doing violence to our conftitution. It is like a man's
walking upon his hands, a feat which fome men upon occafion
can exhibit ; but no man ever made a long journey in this man-
ner. Ceafe to admire his dexterity, and he will, like other men,
betake himfelf to his legs.

Ffff We

59+

ESSAY VI.

CHAP. y. We may here take notice of a property of the principle under
confideration, ^hat feems to be common to it with many other
firft principles, and which can hardly be found in any principle
that is built folely upon reafoning ; and that is, that in mod men
it produces its effedl without ever being attended to, or made an
obje(5l of thought. No man ever thinks of this principle, unlefs
when he confiders the grounds of fcepticifm ; yet it invariably go-
verns his opinions. When a man in the common courfe of life
gives credit to the teftimony of his fenfes, his memory, or his rea-
fon, he does not put the queftion to himfelf, whether thefe facul-
ties may deceive him ; yet the truft he repofes in them fuppofes
an inward convicflion, that, in that inftance at leaft, they do not
deceive him.

It is another property of this and of many firft principles, that
they force aflent in particular inftances, more powerfully than
when they are turned into a general propofition. Many Sceptics -
have denied every general principle of fcience, excepting perhaps
the exiftence of our prefent thoughts ; yet thefe men reafon, and
refute, and prove, they aflent and diflent in particular cafes. They
tife reafoning to overturn all reafoning, and judge that they ought
to have no judgment, and fee clearly that they are blind. Many
have in general maintained that the fenfes are fallacious, yet there
never was found a man fo fceptical as not to trufl his fenfes in parti-
cular inftances when his fafety required it ; and it may be obferved
of thofe who have profefled fcepticifm, that their fcepticifm lies in
generals, while in particulars they are no lefs dogmatical than others.

8. Another firft principle relating to exiftence, is, That there is
life and intelligence in our fellow- men with whom we converfe.

As foon as children are capable of afking a queftion, or of an-
fwering a queftion, as foon as they ftiew the figns of love, of re-
fentment, or of any other affe<5lion, they muft be convinced, that
ihofe with whom they have this intercourfe are intelligent beings..

It

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. S9S

It is evident they are capable of fuch intercourfe long before they CHAP. v.
can reafon. Every one knows, that there is a focial intercourfe be-
twreen the nurfe and the child before it is a year old. It can, at
that age, underfland many things that are faid to it.

It can by figns afk and refufe, threaten and fupplicate. It clings
to its nurfe in danger, enters into her grief and joy, is happy in
her foothing and careffes, and unhappy in her difpleafure : That
thefe things cannot be without a conviction in the child that the
nurfe is an intelligent being, I think mufl be granted.

Now I would afk how a child of a year old comes by this con-
viction ? Not by reafoning furely, for children do not reafon at
that age. Nor is it by external fenfes, for life and intelligence are
not objedls of the external fenfes.

By what means, or upon what occafions Nature firfl gives this
information to the infant mind, is not eafy to determine. We are
not capable of refle<5ling upon our own thoughts at that period of
life, and before we attain this capacity, we have quite forgot how
or on what occailon we firfl had this belief; we perceive it in
thofe who are born blind, and in others who are born deaf; and
therefore Nature has not conneCled it folely either with any objedl-
of fight, or with any obje<5l of hearing. When we grow up to the
years of reafon and refledlion, this belief remains. No man thinks
of afking himfelf what reafon he has to believe that his neighbour
is a living creature. He would be not a little furprifed if another
perfon fhould afk him fo abfurd a queflion ; and perhaps could
not give any reafon which would not equally prove a watch or a
puppet to be a living creature.

But, though you fhould fatisfy him of the weaknefs of the rea-
fons he gives for his belief, you cannot make him in the leafl doubt-
ful. This belief flands upon another foundation than that of rea-
foning ; and therefore, whether a man can give good reafons for
it or not, it is not in his power to fhake it ofK ♦

F f f f 2 Setting

596 ESSAY VI.

CHAP, v.^ Setting afide this natural convidlion, I believe the beft reafon
we can give, to prove that other men are living and intelligent, is,
that their words and a<5lions indicate like powers of underftanding
as we are confcious of in ourfelves. The very fame argument ap-
plied to the works of nature, leads us to conclude, that there is
an intelligent Author of nature, and appears equally ftrong and
obvious in the lad cafe as in the firft ; fo that it may be doubted
whether men, by the mere exercife of reafoning, might not as
foon difcover the exiftence of a Deity, as that other men have life
and intelligence.

The knowledge of the laft is abfolutely neceiTary to our recei-
ving any improvement by means of rnftrudlion and example ; and,
without thefe means of improvement, there is no ground to think
that we Ihould ever be able to acquire the ufe of our reafoning
powers. This knowledge, therefore, muft be antecedent to rcafoa-
ing, and therefore muft be a firft principle.

It cannot be faid, that the judgments we form concerning life
and intelligence in other beings are at firft free from error : But
the errors of children in this matter lie on the fafe fide ; they are
prone to attribute intelligence to things inanimate. Thefe errors^
- are of fmall confequence, and are gradually corredlcd by experience
and ripe judgment. But the belief of life and intelligence in
other men, is abfolutely neceflary for us before we are capable of
reafoning ; and therefore the Author of our being hath given u&
this belief antecedently to all reafoning.

9. Another firft principle I take to be, That certain features of the
countenance, founds of the voice, and geftures of the body, indi-
cate certain thoughts and difpofitions of mind.

That many operations of the mind have their natural figns in
the countenance, voice, and gefture, 1 fuppofe every man will ad-
mit. Omn'ts emm motut animi^ fays CiCEROyJiiutn quemdam habet a
• natura

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 597

natwa vultum, et vocem et gejlum. The only queftibn is, whether CHAP. v.
we underftand the fignification of thofe figns, by the conftltution "

of our nature, by a kind of natural perception fimilar to the per-
ceptions of fenfe j or whether we gradually learn the fignification
of fuch figns from experience, as we learn that fmoke is a fign of
fire, or that the freezing of water is a fign of cold ? I take the firft
to be the truth.

It feems to me incredible, that the notions men have of the ex-
prefljon of features, voice, and geflure, are entirely the fruit of
experience. Children, almoft as foon as born, may be frighted,
and thrown into fits by a threatening or angry tone of voice. I
knew a man who could make an infant cry, by whiftling a melan-
choly tune in the fame or in the next room ; and again, by alter-
ing his key, and the fl:rain of his mufic, could make the child
leap and dance for joy.

It is not by experience furely that we learn the exprefllon of mu-
fic ; for its operation is commonly ftrongeft the firft time we hear
Ft. One air expreflTes mirth and feftivity ; fo that, when we hear it,
it is with difficulty we can forbear to dance. Another is forrowful
and folemn. One infpires with tendernefs and love ; another with
rage and fiiry.

Hear how Timotheus' vary'd lays furprife,
And bid alternate paffions fall and rife ;
While at each change, the fon of Lybian Jove
Now burns with glory, and then melts with love.
Now his fierce eyes with fparkling fury glow.
Now fighs fteal out, and tears begin to flow.
Perfians and Greeks, like turns of Nature, found,,
And the world's vidlor ftood fubdu'd by found.

It is not necefifary that a man have ftudied either mufic or the pal-
lions, in order to his feeling thefe effedts. The moft ignorant and

unimproved.

598 ESSAY VI.

CHAF. V. unimproved, to whom Nature has given a good ear, feel them as
flrongly as the mod knowing.

The countenance and gefture have an expreffion no lefs flrong
and natural than the voice. The firft time one fees a ftern and
fierce look, a contracfled brow, and a menacing pofture, he con-
cludes that the perfon is inflamed with anger. Shall we fay, that,
previous to experience, the moft hoftile countenance has as agree-
able an appearance as the mofl gentle and benign ? This furely
would contradid all experience ; for we know that an angry coun-
tenance will fright a child in the cradle. Who has not obferved,
that children, very early, are able to diftinguifh what is faid to
them in jeft from what is faid in earneft, by the tone of the voice,
and the features of the face? They judge by thefe natural figns,
even when they feem to contradi(fl the artificial.

If it were by experience that we learn the meaning of features,
and found, and gefture, it might be expedled that we fliould recol-
ledl the time when we firlt learned thofe leflbns, or, at leaft, fome
of fuch a multitude.

Thofe who give attention to the operations of children, can eafi-
]y difcover the time when they have their earlieft notices from ex-
perience, fuch as that flame will burn, or that knives will cut.
But no man is able to recolle<5l in himfelf, or to obferve in others,
the time when the exprefllon of the face, voice, and gefture, were
learned.

Nay, I apprehend that it is impofllble that this fhould be learn-
ed from experience.

"When we fee the fign, and fee the thing fignified always con-
joined with it, experience may be the inftrudlor, and teach us
how that fign is to be interpreted. But how fliall experience in-
ftru6l us when we fee the fign only, when the thing fignified is

invifible ?

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 5991

invifible ? Now this is the cafe here ; the thoughts and paffions of CHAP, v.^
the mind, as well as the mind itfelf, are invifible, and therefore
their conne6lion with any fenfible fign cannot be firfi; difcovered by
experience ; there mull be fome earlier fource of this knowledge.

Natiire feems to have given to men a faculty or fenfe, by which
this connection is perceived. And the operation of this fenfe is-
very analogous to that of the external fenfes.

When I grafp an ivory ball in my hand, I feel a certain fenfa-
tion of touch. In the fenfation, there is nothing external, nothing
corporeal. The fenfation is neither round nor hard ; it is an adl of
feeling of the mind, from which I cannot, by reafoning, infer the
exiftence of any body. But, by the conftitution of my nature^,
the fenfation carries along with it the conception and belief of a.
round hard body really exifting in my hand.

In like manner, when I fee the features of an expreillve face, I
fee only figure and colour varioufly modified. But, by the con-
ftitution of my nature, the vifible obje<5l brings along with it the
conception and belief of a certain paflion or fentiment in the mind.
of the perfon.

In the former cafe, a fenfation of touch is the fign, and the hard-
nefs and roundnefs of the body I grafp is fignified by that fenfa-
tion. In the latter cafe, the features of the perfon is the fign, and
the paflion or fentiment is fignified by it.

The power of natural figns, to fignify the fentiments.and paf-
fions of the mind, is feen in the figns of dumb perfons, who can-
make themfelves to be underftood in a confiderable degree, even
by thofe who are wholly unexperienced in that language-
It is feen in the traffic which has been frequently carried on be-
tween people that have no common acquired language. They caa

buy.

6oo E S S A Y Vr.

CHAP, V. buy and fell, and a(k and refufe, and fhew a friendly or hoflile
difpofitioii by natural figns.

It was fcen ftill more in the a(5\ors among the ancients who
performed the gefliculation upon the ftage, while others recited
the words. To fuch a pitch was this art carried, that we are told
Cicero 'and Roscius ufed to contend whether the orator could
exprefs any thing by words, which the adtor could not exprefs in
dumb fhow by gefliculation ; and whether the fame fentence or
thought could not be a(5led in all the variety of ways in which the
orator could exprefs it in words.

But the moft furprifing exhibition of this kind, was that of the
pantomimes among the Romans, who acfled plays, or fcenes of
plays, without any recitation, and yet could be perfedly un-
derflood.

And here it deferves our notice, that although it required much
ftudy and pra<5lice in the pantomimes to excel in their art ; yet
it required neither ftudy nor pra(5lice in the fpecftators to under-
Hand them. It was a natural language, and therefore underftood
by all men, whether Romans, Greeks, or Barbarians, by the learn-
ed and the unlearned.

LtJCiAN relates, that a King, whofe dominions bordered upon
' -the Euxine fea, happening to be at Rome in the reign of Nero,
and having feen a pantomime adl, begged him of Nero that he
might ufe him in his intercourfe with all the nations in his neigh-
bourhood : For, faid he, I am obliged to employ I don't know
how many interpreters, in order to keep a correfpondence with
neighbours who fpeak many languages, and do not underftand
mine ; but this fellow will make them all underftand him.

For thefe reafons, I conceive, it mud be granted, not only that
there is a connexion eflablilhed by Nature between certain figns

in

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 6oi

in the countenance, voice, and gefture, and the thoughts and paf- CHAP. v.
fions of the mind ; but alfo, that, by our conflitution, we under-
ftand the meaning of thofe iigns, and from the fign conclude the
exiftence of the thing fignified. .

lo. Another firft principle appears to me to be. That there is a
certain regard due to human tellimony in matters of fadl, and
even to human authority in matters of dpinion.

Before we are capable of reafoning afiout teftimony or authori-
ty, there are many things which-it concerns us to know, for which
we can have no other evidence. Tliewife Author of nature hath
planted in the human mind a propenfity to rely upon this evidence
before we Can give a reafon for doing fb. This, indeed, puts our
judgment almoft entirely in the power of thofe who are about us,
in the firft period of life ; but this is necefTary both to our prefer-
vation and to our improvement. If children were fo framed, as to
pay no i-egard to teftimony or to authority, they muft, in the li-
teral fenfe, perifli for lack of kridi<'ledge. It ii not more necefla-
ry that they fhould be fed- before they can feed themfelves, than
thatthey fliould be inftru6led in many things, befot-e they can dif-
cover them by their own judgment.s^^wU: i.

\

But when our faculties ripen, we find reafon to check that pro-
penfity to yield to teftimony and to authority, which was fo ne-
cefTary and fo natural in the firft period of life. We learn to
reafon about the regard due to them, and fee it to be a childifh
weaknefs to lay more ftrefs upon them than reafon juftifies. Yet,
I believe, to the end of life, moft men are more apt to go into
this extreme than into the contrary ; and the natural propenfity
ftill retains fome force.

The natural principles, by which our judgments and opinions
are regulated before we come to the ule of reafon, feem to be no
lefs necefTary to fuch a being as man, than thofe natural inftinds

G g g g which

6o2 ESSAY Vf.

CHAP. V. vyhich the Author of nature hath given us to regulate our acflions
during that period.

1 1. There are many events depending upon the will of man, in
which there is a felf-evident probability, greater or lefs, according
to circumflances.

There may be in fome individuals fu<ph a. degree of phrenzy and
madnefs, that no man can fay what they may or may not do.
Such perfons we find it neceflary to put undqr reftraint, that as far
as poflible they may be kept from, doing harm to themfelves or to
others. They are not cpnfidered as. reafonable creatures, or mem-
bers of fociety. But, as to men. who have a found mind, we de-
pend upon a certain degree of regularity in their condudt ; and
could put a thoufand different cafes, wherein vve could venture,
ten to one, that they will ad in fuch a w&y, and not in the.contrary;

If we had no confidence in our fellow men that they will adl
fuch a part in fuch circumftances, it would be impoffible to live
in fociety with them : For that which makes men capable of living
in fociety, and uniting in a political body under government, is,
that their adlions will always be regulated in a great meafure by
the common principles of human nature.

It may always be expe<Sed, that they will regard their own in-
tereft and reputation, and that of their families and friends ; that
they will repel injuries, and have fome fenfe of good offices ; and
that they will have fome regard to truth and juftice, fo far at lead
as not to fwerve from them without temptation.

It is upon fuch principles as thefe, that all political reafoning is
grounded. Such reafoning is never demonrtrative ; but it may
have a very great degree of probability, efpecially when applied to
great bodies of men.

12. The

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF CONTINGENT TRUTHS. 603

12. The laft principle of ;6ontingent. truths I mention, is. That, chap, v.
in the phenomena of nature, what is to be, will probably be like
to what has been in fimilar circumilances.

We muft have this conyi<5lion as foon as we are capable of learn-
ing any thing" from experience ; for all experience is grounded
upon a. belief that the future, will be like the paft. Take away
this principle, and the experience of an hundred years makes ua no
wifer with i^egard to what is to come.

, This is one of thofe pririci[iles, which, when we grow up and ob-
ferve the courfe of nature, we can confirm by reafoning. We
perceive that Nature is governed by fixed laws, and that if it were
not fo, there could be no fuch thing as prudence in human con-
du6l ; there would be no fitnefs in any means to promote an
end ; and what, on one occafion, promoted it, might as probably,
on another occafion, ob fir u<5l it.

But the principle is neceflary for us before we are able to difco-
ver it by reafoning, and therefore is made a part of our conflitu-
tion, and ;produces its efiecls before the ufe of reafon.
^li 'Sniio /m/ixa 07 JCTsOgiq :;« i•l^^flo^

This^ principle remains in all its force wheh we come to the ufe
of reafon ; but we learn to be more cautious in the application of
it. We obferve more carefully the circumilances on which the
pad event depended, and learn to diftinguifli them from thofe
which ivere accidentally conjoined with it.

In order to this, a number of experiments, varied in their cir-
cumflances, is often neceflTary. Sometimes a fmgle experiment is
thought fnfiicient to eftablifli a general conclufion. Thus, when it
was once found, that, in a certain degree of cold, quickfilver be-
came a hard and malleable metal, there was good reafon to think,
that the fame degree of cold will always produce this effed to the
end of the world.

GgSg2 ^

6o4 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. V. I need hardly mention, that the whole fabric of natural philofo-
phy is built upon this principle, .an4> if it be taken away, muft
tumble down to the foundation. . "ij ~. 'n.

Therefore the great Newton lays it down as an axiom, or as one
of his laws of philofophifing, in thel'e words, EffeSrimm natural'ium
ejufdem generis edfdan ejfe cavfas. This is :what every man afTents to
as foon as he underftands it, and no man aflcs a reafon for it. It
has therefore the moft genuine marks of a firft principle.

• It is very remarkable, that a-fthqugh; all ouTlf expectation of what
is to happen in the courfeof nature is. derived, frorh the belief of
this principle, yet no inaii thinks of aflting what is the ground of
this belief.

Mr Hume, I think,, was the firlt who -put this queftion; and he
has fliewn clearly and invincibly, thatitiis neither grounded upon
reafoning, nor has that kind of intuitive evidence which mathema--
tical axioms have. It is not a neceflary truth. ' ■ -^' ' ^^

He has endeavoured to. account for it-upon his own principles^
It is not my bulinefs at prefent to examine the account^ he has
given of this univerfal belief of mankind ; becaufJe, whether his
account of it be juft or not, (and I. think it is not), yet, as this ber
lief is univerfal among mankind, and is not grounded upon any
antecedent reafoning, but upon the conftitution of the mind itfelf,
it muft be acknowledged to be a. firft principle, in the lenfe in
which I ufe that word.

I do not at all affirm, that thofel have mentioned are all the
firft principles from which we may reafon concerning contingent
truths. Such enumerations, even when, made after much reflec-
tion, are feldom perfed:.

CHAP.

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 605

, • CHAP. VI.

CHAP. VI.

Firji Principles of necejfary 'Truths^

A BOUT mofl of the firft principles of neceflary truths there
-^^^ has been no difpute, and therefore it is the lefs neceflary to
dwell upon them. It will be fufficient to divide them into diffe-
rent claffes ; to mention fome, by way of fpecimen, in each clafs ;
and to make fome remarks on thofe of which the truth has been
called in queftion.

They may, I think, mofl properly be divided according to tile
'fciencts to which they belong.

1. There are fome firfl principles that may be called gramma-
tical ; fuch as, that every adje6live in a fentence muft: belong to
fome fubftantive exprefled or underftood ; that every complete fen-
tence muft have a verb.

Thofe who have attended to the ftrucflure of language, and
formed diftin(5l notions of the nature and ufe of the various parts
of fpeech, perceive, without reafoning, that thefe, and many other
fuch principles, are neceffarily true.

2. There are logical axioms ; fuch as, that any contexture of
words which does not make a propofition, is neither true nor falfe ;
that every propofition is either true or falfe ; that no propofition can
be both true and falfe at the fame time ; that reafoning in a circle
proves nothing j that whatever may be truly affirmed of a genus,
may be truly affirmed of all the fpecies, and all the individuals be-
longing to that genus.

3. Every

6o6 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VL 2- Every one knows there are mathematical axioms. Mathema«
ticians have, from the clays of Euclid, very wifely laid down the
axioms or firfl principles on which they reafon. And the efFe<ft
which this appears to have had upon the liability and happy pro-
grefs of this fcience, gives no fmall encouragement to attempt to
lay the fovindation of other fciences in a fimilar manner, as far as
we are able.

Mr Hume hath difcovered, as he apprehends, a weak fide, even
in mathematical axioms ; and thinks, that it is not ftridly true,
for inftance, that two right lines can cut one another in one
point only.

The principle he reafons from is. That every fimple idea is a
copy of a preceding impreffion; and therefore, in its precifion and
accuracy, can never go beyond its original. From which he rea-
fons in this manner : No man ever faw or felt a line fo ftraight,
that it might not cut another, equally ftraight, in two or more
points. Therefore there can be no idea of fuch a line.

The ideas that are moft eflentlal to geometry, fuch as, thofe of
equality, of a ftraight line, and of a fquare furface, are far, he fays,
from being diftin(5l and determinate ; and the definitions deftroy
the pretended demonftrations. Thus, mathematical demonftration
is found to be a rope of fand.

I agree with this acute author, that, if we could form no notion
of points, lines, and furfaces, more accurate than thofe we fee and
handle, there could be no mathematical demonftration.

But every man that has underftanding, by analyfing, by ab-
ftradllng, and compounding the rude materials exhibited by his
fenfes, can fabricate, in his own mind, thofe elegant and accurate
forms of mathematical lines, furfaces, and folids.

If

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 607

If a man finds hirafelf incapable of forming a precife and de-
terminate notion of the figure which Mathematicians call a cube,
he not only is no Mathematician, but is incapable of being one.
But, if he has a precife and determinate notion of that figure, he
muft perceive, that it is terminated by fix mathematical furfaces,
perfe<5lly fquare, and perfedlly equal. He muft perceive, that
thefe furfaces are terminated by twelve mathematical lines, per-
fecTtly flraight, and perfedlly equal, and that thofe lines are termi-
nated by eight mathematical points.

When a man is confcious of having thefe conceptions diftincl and
determinate, as every Mathematician is, it is in vain to bring me-
taphyfical arguments to convince him that they are not diftindl.
You may as well bring arguments to convince a man racked with
pain, that he feels no pain.

Every theory that is inconfiftent with our having accurate no-
tions of mathematical lines, furfaces, and folids, muft be falfe.
Therefore it follows, that they are not copies of our impreffions.

The Medicean Venus is not a copy of the block of marble from
which it was made. It is true, that the elegant ftatue was formed
out of the rude block, and that too by a manual operation, which,
in a literal fenfe, we may call abftra(^Lon. Mathematical notions
are formed in the underftanding by an abftra<5lion of another kind,
out of the rude perceptions of our fenfes.

As the truths of natural philofophy are not neceflary truths, but
contingent, depending upon the will of the Maker of the world,
the principles from which they are deduced muft be of the fame
nature, and therefore belong not to this clafs.

4. I think there are axioms, even in matters of tafte. Notwith-
ftanding the variety found among men, in tafte, there are, I appre-
hend, fome common principles, even in matters of this kind. I

never

CHAP. VI.

> — .. — *

6o8 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VL never heard of any man who thought it a beauty in a human face
to want a nofe, or an eye, or to have the mouth on one fide. How
many ages have paflTed fince the days of Homer ! Yet, in this long
tra<5l of ages, there never was' found a man who took Thersites
for a beavity.

The fine arts are very properly called the arts of tafie^ becaufe
the principles of both are the fame ; and in the fine arts, we find
no lefs agreement among thofe who pradlife them than among
other artifts.

No work of tafte can be either relifhed or underftood by thofe
who do not agree with the author in the principles of tafte.

Homer, and Virgil, and Shakespeare, and Milton, had the
fame tafte ; and all men who have been acquainted with their
writings, and agree in the admiration of them, muft have the
fame tafte.

The fundamental rules of poetry and mufic and painting, and
dramatic adlion and eloquence, have been always the fame, and
will be fo to the end of the world.

The variety we find among men in matters of tafte is eafily ac-
counted for, confiftently with what we have advanced.

There is a tafte that is acquired, and a tafte that is natural.
This holds with refpedl both to the external fenfe of tafte and the
internal. Habit and fafliion have a powerful influence upon both.

Of taftes that are natural, there are fbme that may be called
rational, others that are merely animal.

Children are delighted with brilliant and gaudy colours, with
romping and noify mirth, with feats of agility, ftrength, or cun-
ning ; and favages have much the fame tafte as children.

But

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 609

But there are tafles that are more intellecflual. It is the di6\ate ^^^P- ^]-
of our rational nature, that love and admiration are mifplaced
when there is no intrinfic worth in the objed.

In thofe operations of tafte which are rational, we judge of the
real worth and excellence of the objedt, and our love or admira-
tion is guided by that judgment. In fuch operations there is
judgment as well as feeling, and the feeling depends upon the
judgment we form of the objedt.

I do not maintain that tafte, fo far as it is acquired, or fo far as
it is merely animal, can be reduced to principles. But as far as
it is founded on judgment, it certainly may.

The virtues, the graces, the mufes, have a beauty that is in-
trinfic. It lies not in the feelings of the fpedlator, but In the real
excellence of the obje(5t. If we do not perceive their beauty, it
is owing to the defed: or to the perverfion of our faculties.

And as there is an original beauty in certain moral and intel-
ledlual qualities, fo there is a borrowed and derived beauty in the
natural figns and expreffions of fuch qualities.

The features of the human face, the modulations of the voice,
and the proportions, attitudes, and gefliure of the body, are all
natural expreffions of good or bad qualities of the perfon, and
derive a beauty or a deformity from the qualities which they
exprefs.

Works of art exprefs fome quality of the artift, and often de-
rive an additional beauty from their utility or fitnefs for their end.

Of fuch things there are fome that ought to pleafe, and others
that ought to dlfpleafe. If they do not, it is owing to fome de-
fed in the fpedator. But what has real excellence will always
pleafe thofe who have a corredl judgment and a found heart.

H h h h The

6io E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. Vi.^ Yhe fum of what has been fald upon this fubje<5l is, that, fet-
ting afide the taftes which men acquire by habit and fafhlon, there
is a natural tafte, which is partly animal, and partly rational.
With regard to the firft, all we can fay is, that the Author of
Nature, for wife reafons, has formed us fo as to receive pleafure
from the contemplation of certain objects, and difguft: from others,
before we are capable of perceiving any real excellence in one, or
defecft in the other. But that tafte which we may call rational,
is that part of our conftitution by which we are made to receive
pleafure from the contemplation of what we conceive to be excel-
lent in its kind, the pleafure being annexed to this judgment, and
regulated by it. This tafte may be true or falfe, according as it
is founded on a true or falfe judgment. And if it may be true
or falfe, it muft have firft principles.

5. There are alfo firft principles in morals.

That an unjuft adtion has more demerit than an ungenerous
one : That a generous adlion has more merit than a merely juft
one : That no man ought to be blamed for what it was not in his
power to hinder : That we ought not to do to others what we
would think unjuft or unfair to be done to us in like circumftan-
ces : Thefe are moral axioms, and many others might be named
which apvpear to me to have no lefs evidence than thofe of ma-
thematics.

Some perhaps may think, that our determinations, either in
matters of tafte or in morals, ought not to be accounted necefTary
truths : That they are grounded upon the conftitution of that fa-
culty which we call tafte, and of that which we call the moral
fenfe or confcience ; which faculties might have been fo conftitti-
ted as to have given determinations difibreut, or even contrary to
thofe they now give : That as there is nothing fweet or bitter in it-
felf, but according as it agrees or difagrees with the external
fenfe called tafte ; fo there is nothing beautiful or ugly in itfelf,

but

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 6ii

but according as it agrees or difagrees with the internal {ei^Cc, chap. Vf.
which we alfo call tafle ; and nothing morally good or ill in itfelf,
but according as it agrees or difagrees with our moral fenfe.

This indeed is a fyftem, with regard to morals and tafle, which
hath been fupported in modern times by great authorities. And
if this fyftem be true, the confequence muft be, that there can be
no principles, either of tafte or of morals, that are neceflary
truths. For, according to this fyftem, all our determinations,
both with regard to matters of tafte, and with regard to morals,
are reduced to matters of fa6l. I mean to fuch as thefe, that by
our conftitution we have on fuch occafion scertain agreeable feel-
ings, and on other occafions certain difagreeable feelings.

But I cannot help being of a contrary opinion, being perfua-
ded, that a man who determined that polite behaviour has great
deformity, and that there is great beauty in rudenefs and ill breed-
ing, would judge wrong whatever his feelings were.

In like manner, I cannot help thinking, that a man who deter-
mined that there is more moral worth in cruelty, perfidy, and in-
juftice, than in generofity, juftice, prudence, and temperance,
would judge wrong whatever his conftitution was.

And if it be true that there is judgment in our determinations
of tafte and of morals, it muft be granted, that what is true or
falfe in morals, or in matters of tafte, is necefTarily fo. For this
reafon, I have ranked the firft principles of morals and of tafte
under the clafs of necefTary truths.

6. The laft clafs of firft principles I fliall mention, we may call
metaphyfical.

I fhall particularly confider three of thefe, becaufe they have
been called in queftion by Mr Hume.

Hhhh2 The

6i2 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VI. The/r/? is, That the qviahties which we perceive by our lenfes
mufl have a fubjedl, which we call body, and that the thoughts
we are confcious of mull have a I'ubjedl, which we call mind.

It is not more evident that two and two make four, than it is
that figure cannot exlft, unlefs there be fomething that is figured,
nor motion without fomething that is moved. I not only perceive
figure and motion, but I perceive them to be qualities : They have
a neceflary relation to fomething in which they exift as their fubjecft.
The difficulty which fome Philofophers have found in admitting
this, is entirely owing to the theory of ideas. A fubject of the
fenfible qualities which we perceive by our fenfes, is not an idea
either of fenfation or of confcioufnefs ; therefore fay they, we
have no fuch idea. Or, in the ftyle of Mr Hume, from what im-
preffion is the idea of fubftance derived ? It is not a copy of any
impreffion ; therefore there is no fuch idea.

The diftincflion between fenfible qualities, and the fubftance to
which they belong, and between thought, and the mind that
thinks, is not the invention of Philofophers ; it is found in the
ftru<5lure of all languages, and therefore muft be common to all
men who fpeak with underftandlng. And I believe no man, how-
ever fceptlcal he may be in fpeculatlon, can talk on the common
affairs of life for half an hour, without faying things that imply
his belief of the reality of thefe diftin6lions.

Mr Locke acknowledges, " That we cannot conceive how
" fimple ideas of fenfible qualities fhould fubfift alone ; and there-
" fore we fuppofe them to exift in, and to be fupported by, fome
" common fubjedl." In his Efl^ay, indeed, fome of his expreflions
feem to leave it dubious, whether this belief, that fenfible qualities
muft have a fubjecfl, be a true judgment, or a vulgar prejudice.
But in his firft letter to the Bllbop of Worcester, he removes
this doubt, and quotes many paflages of his Eflay, to lliew that
he neither denied, nor doubted of the exiftence of fubftances, both

thinking

, FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 613

thinking and material ; and that he believed theii- exiftence on the CHAP. VI.
fame ground the Bifhop did, to wit, " on the repugnancy to our
" conceptions, that modes and accidents lliould fubfift by them-
felves." He offers no proof of this repugnancy ; nor, I think,
can any proof of it be given, becaufe it is a firft principle.

It were to be wilhed that Mr Locke, who enquired fo accurate-
ly and fo laudably into the origin, certainty, and extent of human
knowledge, had turned his attention more particularly to the ori-
gin of thefe two opinions which he firmly believed ; to wit, that
fenfible qualities mud have a fubje<5l which we call body, and that
thought mufl; have a fubje6l which we call mind. A due atten- -
tion to thefe two opinions which govern the belief of all men,
even of Sceptics in the pradlice of life, would probably have led-
him to perceive, that fenfation and confcioufnefs are not the only
fources of human knowledge ; and that there are principles of be-
lief in human nature, of which we can give no other account but
that they neceffarily refult from the conftitution of our faculties ;
and that if it were in our power to throw off their influence upon
our pra<5lice and conduift, we could neither fpeak nor a(5l like rea^
fonable men.

We cannot give a reafon why we believe even our fenfations to
be real and not fallacious ; why we believe what we are confcious
of; why we trufl: any of our natural faculties. We fay, it muft
be fo, it cannot be otherwife. This expreffes only a llrong belief,^
which is indeed the voice of Nature, and which therefore in vain
we attempt to refifl. But if, in fpite of Nature, we refolve to go
deeper, and not to truft our faculties, without a reafon to fliew that
they cannot be fallacious, I am afraid, that feeking to become wife,
and to be as gods, we fhall become foolifll, and being unfatisfied
with the lot of humanity, we (hall throw off common fenfe.

The fecond metaphyfical principle I mention is. That whatever
bcgms to exift, muft have a caufe. which produced it.

Philofophy

/

614 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI. Philofophy is indebted to Mr Hume in this refpecH; among others,
that, by calling in quellion many of the firft principles of human
knowledge, he hath put fpeculative men upon enquiring more
carefully than was done before, into the nature of the evidence
upon which they reft. Truth can never fuffer by a fair enquiry ;
it can bear to be feen naked and in the fulleft light; and the ftridleft
examination will always turn out in the iflue to its advantage. I
believe Mr Hume was the firft who ever called in queftion whe-
ther things that begin to exift muft have a caufe.

With regard to this point, we muft hold one of thefe three
things, either that it is an opinion, for which we have no evidence,
and which men have foolifhly taken up without ground ; ox^feco7id-
l)\ That it is capable of dired proof by argument ; or, thirdly y
That it is felf-evident, and needs no proof, but ought to be re-
ceived as an axiom, which cannot by reafonable men be called in
queftion.

The firft of thefe fuppofitions would put an end to all philofo-
phy, to all religion, to all reafoning that would carry us beyond
the objects of fenfe, and to all prudence in the condudl of life.

As to the fecond fuppofition, that this principle may be proved
by direcfl reafoning, I am afraid we fliall find the proof extremely
difficult, if not altogether impoffible.

1 know only of three or four arguments that have been urged
, by Philofophers, in the way of abftra<5l reafoning, to prove, that
tilings which begin to exift muft have a cavift.

One is ofi^ered by Mr Hobbes, another by Dr Samuel
Clarke, another by Mr Locke. Mr Hume, in his Treatifc of
Human Nature, has examined them all ; and, in my opinion, has
fhewn, that they take for granted the thing to be proved ; a kind
of falfe reafoning, which men are very apt to fall into when they
attempt to prove what is felf-evident.

It

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 615

It has been thought, that, although this principle does not CHAP. VT.
admit of proof from abftradl reafoning, it may be proved frdm
experience, and may be juftly drawn by indudion, from indances
that fall within our obfervation.

1 conceive this method of proof will leave us in great uncertain-
ty, for thefe three reafons :

i^, Becaufe the propofition to be proved is not a contingent
out a neceflary propofition. It is not, that things which begin to
exift commonly have a caufe, or even that they always in fa(fl
have a caufe ; but that they muft have a caufe, and cannot begin
to exift without a caufe.

Propofitions of this kind, from their nature, are incapable of
proof b;^ indu^lion. Experience informs us only of what is or
has been, not of what muft be ; and the conclufion muft be of
the fame nature with the premifes.

For this reafon, no mathematical propofition can be proved by
induction. Though it fhould be found by experience in a thou-
fand cafes, that the area of a plane triangle is equal to the re<5l-'
angle under the altitude and half the bafe, this would not prove
that it muft be fo in all cafes, and cannot be otherwife ; which is
what the Mathematician affirms.

In like manner, though we had the moft ample experimental
proof, that things which have begun to exift had a caUfe, this .
would not prove that they muft have a caufe.- Experience may
fliew us what is the eftabliflied courfe of nature, but can never
ihevf what connedioos of things are in their natitrfe neceflary.

2^/)', General maxims, grounded on experience, have only a
degree of probability proportioned to the extent of our experience,
and ought always to be underftood fo as to leave room for excep-
tions, if future experience fliall difcover any fuch.

The

6i6 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI. xhe law of gravitation has as full a proof from experience and
induction as any principle can be fuppofed to have. Yet, if any
Philofopher fliould, by clear experiment, ihew that there is a kind
of matter in fome bodies which does not gravitate, the law of gra-
vitation ought to be limited by that exception.

Now it is evident, that men have never confidered the principle
of the neceflity of caufes, as a truth of this kind which may ad-
mit of limitation or exception ; and therefore it has not been re-
ceived upon this kind of evidence.

3^7)', I do not fee that experience could fatisfy us that every
change in nature aiflually has a caufe.

In the far greateft part of the changes in nature that fall within
our obfervation, the caufes are unknown ; and therefore, from ex-
perience, we cannot know whether they have caufes or not.

Caufation is not an obje<f\: of fenfe. Tlie only experience we
can have of it, is in the confcioufnefs we have of exerting fome
power in ordering our thoughts and adtions. But this experience
is furely too narrow a foundation for a general conclufion, that all
things that have had or fhall have a beginning muft have a caufe.

For thefe reafons, this principle cannot be drawn from experi-
ence any more than from abfl;ra(5l reafoning.

The third fuppofition is, That it is to be admitted as a firft or
felf-evident principle. Two reafons may be urged for this.

jji, The univerfal confent of mankind, not of Philofophers
only, but of the rude and unlearned vulgar.

Mr Hume, as far as I know, was the firft that ever exprelTed
any doubt of this principle. And when we confider that he has

rejeded

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 617

rejecled every principle of human knowledge, excepting that of CHAP, vi.
confcioufnefs, and has not even fpared the axioms of mathema-
tics, his authority is of fmall vireight.

Indeed, with regard to firfl; principles, there is no reafon why
the opinion of a Philofopher Ihould have more authority than that
of another man of common fenfe, who has been accuftomed to
judge in fuch cafes. The illiterate vulgar are competent judges ;
and the Philofopher has no prerogative in matters of this kind ;
but he is more liable than they to be mifled by a favourite fyftem,
efpecially if it is his own.

Setting afide the authority of Mr Hume, what has philofophy
been employed in, fince men firft began to philofophife, but in the
invefligation of the caufes of things ? This it has always profeiTed,
when we trace it to its cradle. It never entered into any man's
thought, before the Philofopher we have mentioned, to put the
previous queftion, whether things have a caufe or not ? Had it
been thought poffible that they might not, it may be prefumed,
that, in the variety of abfurd and contradidory caufes afljgned,
fome one would have had recourfe to this hypothefis.

They could conceive the world to arife from an egg, from a
ftruggle between love and ftrife, between moifture and drought,
between heat and cold ; but they never fuppofed that it had no
caufe. We know not any Atheiftic fedt that ever had recourfe to
this topic, though by it they might have evaded every argument
that could be brought againfl them, and anfwered all objedions
to their fyftem.

But rather than adopt fuch an abfurdity, they contrived fome
imaginary caufe ; fuch as chance, a concourfe of atoms, or neceili-
ty, as the caufe of the univerfe.

The accounts which Philofophers have given of particular phae-

I i i i nomena,

6i8 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VI. nomena, as well as of the univerfe in general, proceed upon the fame
principle. That every phgenomenon muft have a caufe, was always
taken for granted. Nil turpius pbyfico^ i^'Ajs, ClC'E'KO, quam fieri Jine
caufa qu'icquam dicere. Though an Academic, he was dogmatical in
this. And Plato, the Father of the academy, was no lefs fo.
*' na»1» yixf aVtVotlow p^wfif «»1'« ytW** %«►. TiM^us." It is impoffible
that any thing fhould have its origin without a caufe.

I believe Mr Hume was the firfl who ever held the contrary.
This, indeed, he avows, and afTumes the honour of the difcovery.
" It is, fays he, a maxim in philofophy, that whatever begins to
" exifl:, muft have a caufe of exillence. This is commonly taken
" for granted in all reafonings, without any proof given or de-
** manded. It is fuppofed to be founded on intuition, and to be
" one of thofe maxims, which, though they may be denied with
" the lips, it is impoffible for men in their hearts really to doubt
*' of. But, if we examine this maxim by the idea of knowledge,
" above explained, we fliall difcover in it no mark of fuch intui-
" tive certainty." The meaning of this feems to be, that it did
not fuit with his theory of intuitive certainty, and therefore he
excludes it from that privilege.

The vulgar adhere to this maxim as firmly and univerfally as
the Philofophers. Their fuperftitions have the fame origin as the
fyftems of Philofophers, to wit, a defire to know the caufes of
things. Felix qui potuit rertim cognofcere can/as^ is the univerfal fenfe
of men ; but to fay that any thing can happen without a caufe,.
fhocks the common fenfe of a favage.

This univerfal belief of mankind is eafily accounted for, if we
allow that the neceffity of a caufe of every event is obvious to the
rational powers of a man. But it is impoffible to account for it
otherwife. It cannot be afcribed to education, to fyftems of phi-
lofophy, or to prieftcraft. One would think, that a Philofopher
who takes it to be a general dclufioaor prejudice, would endeavour

to

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 619

to fhow from what caufes in human nature fuch a general error CHAP, vi.

may take its rife. But I forget that Mr Hume might anfwer upon

his own principles, that fince things may happen without a caufe,

this error and delufion of men may be univerfal without any

caufe.

A fecond reafon why I conceive this to be a firft principle, is,
That mankind not only alTent to it in Speculation, but that the
pra(5lice of life is grounded upon it in the mod important matters,
even in cafes where experience leaves us doubtful ; and it is im-
pofTible to adt with common prudence if we fet it afide.

In great families there are fo many bad things done by a certain
perfonage called nobody^ that it is proverbial, that there is a nobody
about every houfe who does a great deal of mifchief ; and even
where there is the exadeft infpedlion and government, many events
will happen of which no other author can be found : So that, if we
trufl: merely to experience in this matter, nobody will be found to
be a very active perfon, and to have no inconfiderable fhare in the
management of affairs. But whatever countenance this fyflera
may have from experience, it is too fhocking to common fenfe to
impofe upon the mod ignorant. A child knows, that when his
top, or any of his play-things are taken away, it mufl be done by
fomebody. Perhaps it would not be difficult to perfuade him that
it was done by fome invifible being, but that it fliould be done
by nobody he cannot believe.

Suppofe a man's houfe to be broke open, his money and jewels
taken away. Such things have happened times innumerable with-
out any apparent caufe ; and were he only to reafon from experi-
ence in fuch a cafe, how muft he behave ? He mufl put in one
fcale the inftances wherein a caufe was found of fuch an event,
and in the other fcale, the inflances where no caufe was found, and
the preponderant fcale muft determine, whether it be moft proba-
ble that there was a caufe of this event, or that there was none.

I i i i 2 Would

620 E S* S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI. 'Would any man of common underftandlng have recourfe tb fucli
ail expedient to diredl his judgment ?

Suppofe a man to be found dead on the highway, his fkull frac-
tured, his body pierced with deadly wounds, his watch and nro-
ney carried off. The coroners jury fits upon the body, and the
queftion is put, what was the caufe of this man's death, was it ac-
cident, or fe/o de fe, or murder by perfons unknown ? Let us fup-
pofe an adept in Mr Hume's philofophy to make one of the jury,
and chat he infifts upon the previous queftion, whether there was
any caufe of the event, and v^^hether it happened without a caufe ?

Surely, upon Mr Hume's principles, a great deal might be faid
•upon this point ; and, if the matter is to be determined by paft ex-
perience, it is dubious on which fide the weight of argument
might ftand. But we may venture to fay, that, if Mr Hume had
been of fuch a jury, he would have laid afide his philofophical
principles, and a<5led according to the dictates of common prudence.

Many pafTages might be produced, even in Mr Hume's philofo-
phical writings, in which he, unawares, betrays the fame inward
convidlion of the neceflity of caufes, which is common to other
men. I fliall mention only one, in the Treatife of Human Nature,
and in that part of it where he combats this very principle. " As
" to thofe impreffions, fays he, which arife from the fenfes, their
" ultimate caufe is, in my opinion, perfedlv inexplicable by hu-
" man reafon ; and it will always be impoflible to decide with
" certainty, whether they arife immediately from the objed, or are
" produced by the creative power of the mind, or are derived from
" the Author of our being."

Among thefe alternatives, he never thought of their not arifing
from any caufe.

The arguments which Mr Hume offers to prove that this is not a

felf-

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 621

felf-evident principle, are three. Fhj}^ That all certainty arifes CHAP. VI.
from a comparifon of ideas, and a difcovery of their unalterable
relations, none of which relations imply this propofitionjThat what-
ever has a beginning mud have a caufe of exigence. This theory
of certainty has been examined before.

^hefecond argument is, That whatever we can conceive is pof-
fible. This has likewife been examined.

The third argument is, That what we call a caufe, is only fome-
thing antecedent to, and always conjoined with the effedl. This
is alfo one of Mr Hume's peculiar dodlrines, which we may have
occafion to confider afterwards. It is fufficient here to obferve,
that we may learn from it that night is the caufe of day, and day
the caufe of night : For no two things have more conftantly fol-
lowed each other fince the beginning of the world.

The laji metaphyfical principle I mention, which is oppofed by
the fame author, is. That defign, and intelligence in the caufe,
may be inferred, with certainty, from marks or figns of it in the
effea.

Intelligence, defign, and fkill, are not objedls of the external
fenfcs, nor can we be confcious of them in any perfon but our-
felves. Even in ourfelves, we cannot, with propriety, be faid to
be confcious of the natural or acquired talents we poflefs. We
are confcious only of the operations of mind in which they are
exerted. Indeed, a man comes to know his own mental abilities,
jufl as he knows another man's, by the eifeds they produce,, whea
there is occafion to put them to exercife.

A man's wifdom is known to us only by the figns of it in his
condud ; his eloquence by the figns of it in his fpeech. In the
feme manner we judge of his virtue, of. his fortitude, and.; of all
his talents and virtues.

Yet

622 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VI. Yet it is to be obferved, that we iudsre of mens talents with as

^ V — -^ . .

little doubt or hefitation as we judge of the immediate objects of

fenfe.

One perfon, we are fure, is a perfeOi idiot ; another, who feigns
idiocy to fcreen himfelf from punifhment, is found upon trial to
have the underftanding of a man, and to be accountable for his
condudl. We perceive one man to be open, another cunning ;
one to be ignorant, another very knowing ; one to be flow of un-
derftanding, another quick. Every man forms fuch judgments of
thofe he converfes with ; and the common affairs of life depend
upon fuch judgments. We can as little avoid them as we can
avoid feeing what is before our eyes.

From this it appears, that it is no lefs a part of the human con-
ftitution, to judge of mens charatflers, and of their intelle(5lual
powers, from the figns of them in their adlions and difcourfe,
than to judge of corporeal objedls by our fenfes : That fuch judg-
ments are common to the whole human race that are endowed
with underftanding ; and that they are abfolutely neceffary in the
condudl of life.

Now, every judgment of this kind we form, is only a particular
application of the general principle, that intelligence, wifdom,^nd
other mental qualities in the caufe, may be inferred from their
marks or figns in the effect.

The adlions and difcourfes of men are effedls, of which the ac-
tors and fpeakers are the caufes. The effeds are perceived by our
fenfes ; but the caufes are behind the fcene. We only conclude
their exiftence and their degrees from our obfervation of the effeds.

From wife condudl we infer wifdom in the caufe ; from brave
adlions we infer courage ; and fo in other cafes.

This

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 625

This inference is made with perfed fecurity by all men. We chap. vt.
cannot avoid it; it is necelTary in the ordinary condud of life ;
it has therefore the ftrongefk marks of being a firft principle.

Perhaps fome may think that this principle may be learned ei-
ther by reafoning or by experience, and therefore that there is no
ground to think it a firfl principle.

If it can be fliewn to be got by reafoning, by all, or the greater
part of thofe who are governed by it, I fliall very readily acknow-
ledge that it ought not to be efteemed a firft principle. But I ap-
prehend the contrary appears from very convincing arguments.

¥irjl^ The principle is too univerfal to be the effecfl of reafoning^
It is common to Philofophers and to the vulgar ; to the learned
and the moft illiterate ; to the civilized and to the favage : And of
thofe who are governed by it, not one in ten thoufand can give a.
reafon for it.

Secondly^ We find Philofophers, ancient and modern, who can
reafon excellently in fubjedls that admit of reafoning, when they
have occafion to defend this principle, not ofi'ering reafons for it,
or any medium of proof, but appealing to the common fenfe of
mankind ; mentioning particular inftances, to make the abfurdity
of the contrary opinion more apparent, and fometimes ufing the
weapons of wit and ridicule, which are very proper weapons for
refuting abfurdities, but altogether improper in points that are to
be determined by reafoning.

To confirm this obfsrvation, I fliall quote two authors, an an-
cient and a modern, who have more exprel'sly undertaken the de-
fence of this principle than any others I remember to have met
with, and whofe good fenfe and ability to reafon, where reafoning
is proper, will not be doubted.

The

624 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI, The firfl: is Cicero, whofe words, lib. i. cap. 13. De divinatione^
may be thus tranflated.

" Can any thing done by chance have all the marks of defign ?
*' Four dice may by chance turn up four aces ; but do you think
" that four hundred dice, thrown by chance, will turn up four
" hundred aces ? Colours thrown upon canvas without defign
" may have fome fimilitude to a human face ; but do you think
" they might make as beautiful-a pidure as that of the Coan Ve-
X ■ " nus ? A hog turning up the ground with his nofe may make
" fbmething of the form of the letter A ; but do you think that a
" hog might defcribe on the ground the Andromache of Ennjus ?
*' Carneades imagined, that in the ftone quarries at Chios he
" found, in a ftone that was fplit, a reprefentation of the head of
" a little Pan, or fylvan deity. I believe he might find a figure
*' not unlike ; but furely not fuch a one as you would fay had
" been formed by an excellent Sculptor like Scopas. For fo, verily,
•' the cafe is, that chance never perfedlly imitates defign." Thus ,
Cicero.

Now, in all this difcourfe I fee very good fenfe, and what is
apt to convince every unprejudiced mind ; bur I fee not in the
whole a fingle ftep of reafoning. It is barely an appeal to every
man's common fenfe.

Let us next fee how the fame point ir handled by the excellent
Archbilhop Tillotson, ift Sermon, vol. i.

" For I appeal to any man of reafon, whether any thirig can
" be more unreafonable, than obftinately to impute an efFed to
*' chance which carries in the face of it all the arguments and
" charadlers of defign ? Was ever any confiderable work, in which
" there was required a great variety of parts, and an orderly and
" regular adjuftment of thefe parts, done by chance ? Will chance
** fit means to ends, and that in ten thoufand inftances, and not

" fail

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 625

" fail in any one ? How often might a man, after he had jumbled CHAP, vi.
" a fet of letters in a bag, fling them out upon the ground before
" they would fall into an exa<5l poem, yea or fo much as make a
" good difcourfe in profe ? And may not a little book be as eafily
" made as this great volume of the world ? How long might a
" man fprinkle colours upon canvas with a carelefs hand before
" they would make the exact pidure of a man ? And is a man
" eafier made by chance than his pidure ? How long might twen-
*' ty thoufand blind men, which fhould be fent out from the re-
" mote parts of England, wander up and down before they would
" all meet upon Salifbury plains, and fall into rank and file in the -
" exad: order of an army ? And yet this is much more eafy to be
" imagined than how the innumerable blind parts of matter fhould
" rendezvous themfelves into a world. A man that fees Henry
" the Seventh's chapel at Weftminfter might with as good reafon
" maintain, (yea and much better, confidering the vaft difference
" between that little ftrudlure and the huge fabric of the world),
" that it was never contrived or built by any man, but that the
" ftones did by chance grow into thofe curious figures into which
" we fee them to have been cut and graven ; and that upon a time,
" (as tales ufually begin), the materials of that building, the flone,
" mortar, timber, iron, lead, and glafs, happily met together, and
" very fortunately ranged themfelves into that delicate order in
" which we fee them now fo clofe compadled, that it mufl be a
" very great chance that parts them again. What would the world
*' think of a man that fhould advance fuch an opinion as this, and
" write a book for it ? If they would do him right, they ought to
" look upon him as mad. But yet he might maintain this opi-
*' nion with a little more reafon than any man can have to fay
" that the world was made by chance, or that the firfl men grew;
" out of the earth, as plants do now. For can any thing be more
" ridiculous and againft all reafon, than to afcribe the produdion
" of men to the firft fruitfulnefs of the earth, without fo much as
" one inflance or experiment in any age or hiflory to countenance
" fo monftrous a fuppofition ? The thing is at firfl fight fo grofs

Kkkk " and

626 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VL " arid palpable, that no difcourfe about it can make it more appa-
" rent. And yet thefe (liameful beggars of principles, who give
" this precarious account of the original of things, afTume to them-
" felves to be the men of reafon, the great wits of the world, the
" only cautious and wary perfons, who hate to be impofed upon,
" that muft have convincing evidence for every thing, and can
" admit nothing without a clear demonftration for it."

In this pafTage, the excellent author takes what I conceive to be
the proper method of refuting an abfurdity, by expofing it in dif-
ferent lights, in which every man of common underflanding per-
ceives it to be ridiculous. And although there is much good fenfe,
as well as wit, in the pafTage I have quoted, I cannot find one
medium of proof in the whole.

I have met with one or two rcfped^able authors who draw an
argument from the do6lrine of chances, to fliew how improbable
it is that a regular arrangement of parts fhould be the effe<5l of
chance, or that it fhould not be the efre<5l of defign.

I do not objedl to this reafoning ; but I would obferve, that the
do<5lrine of chances is a branch of mathematics little more than
an hundred years old. But the conclufion drawn from it has
been held by all men from the beginning of the world. It can-
not, therefore, be thought that men have been led to this conclu-
fion by that reafoning. Indeed, it may be doubted whether the
firft principle upon which all the mathematical reafoning about
chances is grounded, is more felf-evident than this conclufion
drawn from it, or whether it is not a parti<:ular inftance of that
general conclufion.

We are next to confider whether we may not learn this truth
from experience, That efTeds which have all the marks and tokens
of defign mufl proceed from a defigning caufe*

I

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 627

'■ I apprehend that we cannot learn this truth from experience, chap, vl
for two reafons.

Firji^ Becaufe it is a neceffary truth, not a contingent one. It
agrees with the experience of mankind fince the beginning of the
world, that the area of a triangle is equal to half the redangle
under its bafe and perpendicular. It agrees no lefs with expe-
rience, that the fun rifes in the eaft and fets in the weft. So far
as experience goes, thefe truths arc upon an equal footing. . But
every man perceives this diftindion between them, that the firft
is a neceffary truth, and that it is impoflible it fhould not be true;
but the laft is not neceffary, but contingent, depending upon the
will of him who made the world. As we cannot learn from ex-
perience that twice three muft neceffarily make fix, fo neither can
we learn from experience that certain effe<5ls muft proceed from a
defigning and intelligent caufe. Experience informs us only of
what has been, but never of what muft be.

Secondly, It may be obferved, that experience can fliow a con-
nexion between a fign, and the thing fignified by it, in thofe cafes
only, where both the fign and thing fignified are perceived, and
have always been perceived in conjunction. But if there be any
cafe where the fign only is perceived, experience can never fhew
its connedlion with the thing fignified. Thus, for example,
thought is. a fign of a thinking principle or mind. But how do we
know that thought cannot be without a mind. If any man fhould
fay that he knows this by experience, he deceives himfelf. It is
impoffible he can have any experience of this ; becaufe, though
we have an immediate knowledge of the exiftence of thought in
ourfelves by confcioufnefs, yet we have no immediate knowledge
of a mind. The mind is not an immediate objecfl either of fenfe
or of confcioufnefs. We may therefore juftly conclude, that the
neceffary connedlion between thought and a mind, or thinking be-
ing, is not learned from experience.

K k k k 2 The

628 ESSAY VI.

CHAP, vi^ 'ppjg fame reafoning may be applied to the connection between
a work excellently fitted for fome purpofe, and defign in the author
or caufe of that work. One of thefe, to wit, the work, may be
an immediate object of perception. But the defign and purpofe
of the author cannot be an immediate objedl of perception ; and
therefore experience can never inform us of any connedlion between
the one and the other, far lefs of a neceffary connedlion.

Thus I think it appears, that the principle we have been confi-
dering, to wit, that from certain figns or indications in the efFedV,
we may infer, that there muft have been intelligence, wifdom, or
other intellectual or moral qualities in the caufe, is a principle
which we get, neither by reafoning nor by experience ; and there-
fore, if it be a true principle, it muft be a firft principle. There is
in the human underftanding a light, by which we fee immediate-
ly the evidence of it, when there is oceafion to apply it.

Of how great importance this principle is in common life, we
have already obferved. And I need hardly mention its importance
in natural theology.

The clear marks and fignatures of wifdom, power and goodnefs,
in the conftitution and government of the world, is, of all argu-
ments that have been advanced for the being and providence of
the Deity, that which in all ages has made the flrongeft; impreffion
upon candid and thinking minds ; an argument, which has this
peculiar advantage, that it gathers ftrength as human knowledge
advances, and is more convincing at prefent than it was fome cen-
turies ago.

King Alphonsus might fay, that he could contrive a better
planetary fyftem than that which Aftronomers held in his day.
That fyftem was not the work of God, but the fidlion- of men.

But fince the true fyftem of the fun, moon, and planets, has

" ' ' been

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS.

dg

been difcovered, no man, however atheiftically difpofed, has pre- chap, vi.
tended to fhew how a better could be contrived.

When we attend to the marks of good contrivance which appear
in the works of God, every difcovery we make in the conftitution
of the material or intelleclual fyftem becomes a hymn of praifeto
the great Creator and Governor of the world. And a man who
is pofTefled of the genuine fpirit of philofophy will think it im-
piety to contaminate the Divine workmanlhip, by mixing it with
thofe fidtions of human fancy, called theories and hypothefes,
which will always bear the Signatures of human folly, no lefs than
the. 0ther does of Divine wifdom.

T know of no perfon who ever called in queftion the principle
now under bur consideration, when it is applied to tbeadions and
difcourfes of men: For this would be to deny that we have any
means of difcerning a wife man from an idiot, or a man that is
illiterate in the higheft degree from a man of knowledge and learn-
ing, which no man has the tfTrontery to deny.

But, in all ages, thofe who have been unfriendly to the prin-
ciples of religion, have made attempts to weaken the force of the
argument for the exiftence and perfedlions of the Deity, which
is founded on this principle. That argument has got the name of
the argument from final caufes ; and as the meaning of this jaanie
is well underftood, we fliall ufe it.

The argument from final caufes, when rediaced to a fyllogifm,,
has thefe two premifes : Fir^, That defign and intelligence in the
caufe, may, with certainty, be inferred from marks or figna of it
in the effedt. This is the principle we have been confideiing, and
we may call it the majur propofition of the argument. The^?-
foW, which we call the minor propofition, is, That there arc in
fa6l the cleareft marks of defign and wifdom in the works of Na-
ture ; and the conclufion is, that the works of Nature are the ef-

feds

630 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI. fe(fts of a wife and intelligent caufe. One muft either aflenc to
the conclufion, or deny one or other of the premifes.

Thofe among the ancients who denied a God or a Providence,
feem to me to have yielded the major propofition, and to have de-
nied the minor ; conceiving that there are not in the conllitution
of things fuch marks of wife contrivance as are fufficient to put
the conclufion beyond doubt. This, I think, we may learn, from
the reafoning of Cotta the Academic, in the third book of Ci-
cero, of the Nature of the Gods.

The gradual advancement made in the knowledge of Nature
hath put this opinion quite out of countenance.

When the ftrudlure of the human body was much lefs known
than it is now, the famous Galen faw fuch evident marks of
wife contrivance in it, that though he had been educated an Epi-
curean, he renounced that fyftem, and wrote his book of the ufe
of the parts of the human body, on purpofe to convince others
of what appeared fo clear to himfelf, that it was impoffible that
fuch admirable contrivance ftiould be the eflfedl of chance.

Thofe, therefore, of later times, who are difTatisfied with this ar-
gument from final caufes, have quitted the flrong hold of the an-
cient Atheifls, which had become untenable, and have chofen ra-
ther to make a defence againfl the major propofition.

Des Cartes feems to have led the way in this, though he was
no Atheill. But, having invented fome new arguments for the
being of God, he was perhaps led to difparage thofe that had been
ufed before, that he might bring more credit to his own. Or
perhaps he was offended with the Peripatetics, becaufe they often
mixed final caufes with phyfical, in order to account for the phae-
nomena of nature.

He

FIRST PRINCIPLES OF NECESSARY TRUTHS. 631

He maintained therefore that phyfical caufes only fhould be af- CHAP. VL
figned for phenomena ; that the Philofopher has nothing to do with
final caufes ; and that it is prefumption in us to pretend to de-
termine for what end any work of nature is framed. Some of
thofe who were great admirers of Des Cartes, and followed him.
in many points, differed from him in this, particularly, Dr Henry
More and the pious Archbifhop Fenelon : But others, after
the example of Des Cartes, have fhewn a contempt of all rea-
foning from final caufes. Among thefe, I think, we may reckon
Maupertuis and Buffon. But the mofl: dired attack has been
made upon this principle by Mr Hume, who puts an argument in
the mouth of an Epicurean, on which he feems.to lay great flrefs.

The argument is, That the univerfe is a fingular effedl, and
therefore we can draw no conclulion from it, whether it may have
been made by wifdom or not.

If I underfland the force of this argument, it amounts to this».
That, if we had been accuftomed to fee worlds produced, fome by
wifdom and others without it, and had obferved, that fuch a
world as this which we inltabit was always the efi^6l of wifdom,
we might then, from paft experience, conclude, that this world was
made by wifdom ; but having no fuch experience, we have na
means of forming any conclufion about it.

That this is the flrength of the argument, appears, becaufe if "
the marks of wifdom feen ia one-world be no evidence of wifdom,
the like marks feen in ten thoufand will give as little evidence, ».

unlefs, in time part, we perceived wifdom itfelf conjoined with the
tokens of it ; and, from their perceived conjundion in time paft,
conclude, that although, in the prefent world, we fee only one of
the two, the other muft accompany it.

Whence it appears, that this reafoning of Mr Hume is built on
the fuppofition, that our inferring defign from the ftrongeft marks.

of

632' ' ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VI. q{ if^ is entirel)'- owing to our paft experience of having always
found thefe two things conjoined. But I hope I have made it evident
that this is not the cafe. And indeed it is evident, that, according
to this reafoning, we can have no evidence of mind or defign in
any of our fellow-men.

How do I know that any man of my acquaintance has under-
ftanding ? I never faw his underftanding. I fee only certain ef-
feds, which my judgment leads me to conclude to be marks and
tokens of it.

But, fays the fceptlcal Philofopher, you can conclude nothing
from thefe tokens, unlefs pad experience has informed you that
fuch tokens are always joined with underftanding. Alas ! Sir, it
is impoffible I can ever have this experience. The underftanding
of another man is no immediate objedl of fight, or of any other
faculty which God hath given ine ; and unlefs I can conclude its
exiftence from tokens that are vifible, I have no evidence that there
is underftanding in any man.

It feems then, that the man who maintains, that there is no
force in the argument from final caufes, muft, if he will be con-
fiftent, fee no evidence of the exiftence of any intelligent being but
himfelf.

CHAP. VII.
Opinions ancient and modern about Jirjl Principles.

I Know no writer who has treated exprefslyof firft principles
before Aristotle ; but it is probable, that, in the ancient
Pythagorean fchool, from which both Plato and Aristotle
borrowed much, this fubjed had not been left untouched.

Before

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 63;^

Before the time of Aristotle, confiderable progrefs had been chap. vir.
made in the mathematical fclences, particularly in geometry.

The difcovery of the forty-feventh propofition of the firft book
of Euclid, and of the five regular folids, is, by antiquity, afcri-
bed to Pythagoras himfelf ; and it is impoffible he could have
made thofe difcoveries without knowing many other propofitions
in mathematics. Aristotle mentions the incommenfurability of
the diagonal of a fquare to its fide, and gives a hint of the man-
ner in which it was demonftrated. We find likewife fome of the
axioms of geometry mentioned by Aristotle as axioms, and as
indemonftrable principles of mathematical reafoning.

It is probable, therefore, that, before the time of Aristotle,
there were elementary Treatifes of geometry, which are now loft ;
and that in them the axioms were diftinguiflied from the propofi-
tions which require proof.

To fnppofe, that fo perfedl a fyftem as that of Euclid's Ele-
ments was produced by one man, without any preceding model
or materials, would be to fuppofe Euclid more than a man. We
afcribe to him as much as the weaknefs of human underftanding
will permit, if we fuppofe that the inventions in geometry, which
had been made in a tra<5l of preceding ages, were by him not on-
ly carried much farther, but digefted into fo admirable a fyftem,
that his work obfcured all that went before it, and made them be
forgot and loft.

Perhaps, in like manner, the writings of Aristotle with re-
gard to firft principles, and with regard to many other abftradl
fubjeds, may have occafioned the lofs of what had been written
■upon thofe fubjeds by more ancient Philofophers.

Whatever may be in this, in his fecond book upon demonftra-
tion he has treated very fully of firft principles ; and though he

L 1 1 1 has

6^^ E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VII. j^^g jjQt; attempted any enumeration of them, he fliows very clear-
ly, that all demonftration mud be built upon truths which are
evident of themfclves, but cannot be demonflrated. His whole
dodlrine of fyllogifms is grounded upon a few axioms, from which
he endeavours to demonftrate the rules of fyllogifm in a mathema-
tical way ; and in his topics he points out many of the firfl: prin.-
ciples of probable reafoning.

As long as the philofophy of Aristotle prevailed, it was held
as a fixed point, that all proof mud be drawn from principles al-
ready known and granted.

We muft obferve, however, that, in that philofophy, many
things were alTumed as firft principles, which have no juft claim
to that charadcr ; fuch as, that the earth is at reft ; that Nature
abhors a vacuum ; that there is no change in the heavens above the
fphere of the moon ; that the heavenly bodies move in circles,
that being the moft perfe(5l figure ; that bodies do not gravitate in
their proper place ; and many others.

The Peripatetic philofophy, therefore, inftead of being deficient
in firft principles, was redundant ; inftead of rejedting thofe that
are truly fuch, it adopted, as firft principles, many vulgar preju-
dices and ralli judgments : And this leeras in general to have been
the fpirit of ancient philofophy.

It is true, there were among the ancients fceptical Philofophers
who profefTed to have no principles, and held it to be the greateft
virtue in a Philofopher to with-hold affent, and keep his judgment
in a perfedt equilibrium between contradi<5tory opinions. Bat
though this fe<5l was defended by fome perfons of great erudition
and acutenefs, it died of itfelf, and the dogmatic philofophy of
Aristotle obtained a complete triumph over it.

"What Mr Hume fays of thofe who are fceptical with regard to

moral

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 6^5

moral diftindions; feems to have had its accomplUhment in the an- CHAP. vii.

cient fedl of Sceptics. " The only way, fays he, of converting

" antagonifts of this kind, is to leave them to themfelves ; for

" finding that nobody keeps up the controverfy with them, it is

" probable they will at lafl: of themfelves, from mere wearinefs,

" come over to the fide of common fenfe and reafon."

Setting afide this fmall fe(^ of the Sceptics, which was extincfl
many ages before the authority of Aristotle declined, I know
of no oppofition made to firfl principles among the ancients. The
difpofition was, as has been obferved, not to oppofe, but to mul-
tiply them beyond meafure.

Men have always been prone, when they leave one extreme to
run into the oppofite ; and this fpirit in the ancient philofophy to
multiply firft principles beyond reafon, was a ftrong prefage, that,
when the authority of the Peripatetic fyftem was at an end, the
next reigning fyftem would diminifh their number beyond reafon.

This accordingly happened in that great revolution of the philo-
fophical republic brought about by Des Cartes. That truly great
reformer in philofophy, cautious to avoid the fnare in which Ari-
stotle was taken, of admitting things as firft principles too rafh-
ly, refolved to doubt of every thing, and to with-hold his afTent,
until it was forced by the clearefl evidence.

Thus Des Cartes brought himfelf into that very flate of fu-
fpenfe, which the ancient Sceptics recommended as the higheft per-
fedtion of a wife man, and the only road to tranquillity of mind.
But he did not remain long in this ftate ; his doubt did not arife
from defpair of finding the truth, but from caution, that he
might not be impofed upon, and embrace a cloud inftead of a
goddefs. '

His very doubting convinced him of his own exiflence ; for

Lni2 that

6:^6 ESSAY VI.

pHAP. VII. that which does not exift, can neither doubt, nor believe, nor
reafon.

Thus he emerged from univerfal fcepticifm by this fliort enthy-
meme, cogilo ergo fum.

This enthymeme confifts of an antecedent propofition, I think,
and a conclufion drawn from it, therefore J exijl.

If it fhould be alked, how Des Cartes came to be certain of
the antecedent prepofition, it is evident, that for this he trufted to
the teftimony of confcioufnefs. He was confcious that he thought,,
and needed no other argument..

So that the firft principle which he adopts in this famous enthy-
meme is this, That thofe doubts, and thoughts, and reafonings,
of which he was confcious, did certainly exift, and that his con-
fcioufnefs put their exiftence beyond all doubt.

It might have been objedled to this firft principle of Des Car-
tes, how do you know that your confcioufnefs cannot deceive'
you ? You have fuppofed, that all you fee, and hear, and handle,
may be an illufion. Why therefore fhould the power of confci-
oufnefs have this prerogative, to be believed implicitly, when all
our other powers are fuppofed fallacious ?

To this objection, I know no other anfwer that can be madci
but that we find it impoflible to doubt of things of which we are
confcious. The conftitution of our nature forces this belief upon,
us irrefiftibly.

This is true, and is fufEcient to juftify Des Cartes, in aiTu-
ming, as a firft principle, the exiftence of thought, of which he
was' confcious.

He ought, however, to have gone farther in this track, and to

have

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 637

have confidered whether there may not be other firft principles CHAP. vii.
which aught to be adopted for the fame reafon. But he did not
fee this to be neceflary, conceiving that, upon this one firft prin-
ciple, he could fupport the whole fabric of human knowledge.

To proceed to the conclufion of Des Cartes's enthymeme.
From the exiftence of his thought he infers his own exiftence.
Here he aflumes another firft principle, not a contingent, but a
neceflfary one ; to wit, that where there is thought, there muft be
a thinking being or mind.

Having thus eftablifhed his own exiftence, he proceeds to prove
the exifl:ence of a fupreme and infinitely perfe<fl Being ; and, from
the perfedlion of the Deity, he infers that his fenfes, his memory,,
and the other faculties which God had given him, are not fal--
lacious.

Whereas other men, from the beginning of the world, had ta-
ken for granted, as a firft principle, the truth and reality of what
they perceive by their fenfes, and from thence inferred the exift-
ence of a Supreme Author and Maker of the world, Des Cartes
took a contrary courfe, conceiving that the teftimony of our
fenfes, and of all our faculties, excepting that of confcioufnefs,
ought not to be taken for granted, but to be proved by argument.

Perhaps fome may think that Des Cartes meant only to ad-
mit no other firft principle of contingent truths befides that of
confcioufnefs ; but that he allowed the axioms of mathematics,
and of other neceflary truths, to be received without proof.

But I apprehend this was not his intention : For the truth of
mathematical axioms muft depend upon the truth of the faculty
by which we judge of them. If the faculty be fallacious, we may
be deceived by trufting to it. Therefore, as he fuppofes that all
our faculties, excepting confcioufnefs, may be fallacious, and at-
tempts

C38 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VI r. tempts to prove by argument that they are not, it follows, that,
according to his principles, even mathematical axioms require
proof. Neither did he allow that there are any neceflary truths,
but maintained, that the truths which are commonly fo called, de-
pend upon the will of God. And we find his followers, who
may be fuppofed to underftand his principles, agree in maintain-
ing, that the knowledge of our own qxiftence is the firfl and fun-
damental principle from which all knowledge muft be deduced
by one who proceeds regularly in philofophy.

There is, no doubt, a beauty in raifing a large fabric of know-
ledge upon a few firft principles. The (lately fabric of mathema-
tical knowledge, raifed upon the foundation of a few axioms and
definitions, charms every beholder. Des Cartes, who was
well acquainted with this beauty in the mathematical fciences,
feems to have been ambitious to give the fame beautiful fimpli-
city to his fyftem of philofophy ; and therefore fought only one
firft principle as the foundation of all our knowledge, at leaft of
contingent truths.

And fo far has his authority prevailed, that thofe who came
after him have almoft univerfally followed him in this track.
This, therefore, may be confidered as the fpirit of modern phi-
lofophy, to allow of no firft principles of contingent truths but
this one, that the thoughts and operations of our own minds, of
which we are confcious, are felf-evidently real and true ; but that
every thing elfe that is contingent is to be proved by argument.

The exiftence of a material world, and of what we perceive by
our fenfes, is not felf-evident, according to this philofophy. Des
Cartes founded it upon this argument, That God, who hath
given us our fenfes, and all our faculties, is no deceiver, and there-
fore they are not fallacious.

I endeavoured to fliow, that if it be not admitted as a firft prin-
ciple,

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 639

ciple, that our faculties are not fallacious, nothing elfe can be ad- CHAP. vii.
mltted ; and that it is impoffible to prove this by argument, unlcfs
God fhould give us new faculties to fit in judgment upon the old.

Father Malebranche agreed with Des Carte.s, that the ex-
iflence of a material world requires proof; but being diflatisfied
with Des Cartes's argument from the perfedlion of the Deity,
thought that the only folid proof is from divine revelation.

Arnauld, who was engaged in controverfy with Male-
branche, approves of his antagonift in offering an argument ta
prove the exiftence of the material world, but objeds to the foli-
dity of his argument, and offers other arguments of his own.

Mr NoRRis, a great admirer of Des Cartes and of Male-
branche, feems to have thought all the arguments offered by
them and by Arnauld to be weak, and confeffes that we have
at beft only probable evidence of the exiftence of the material
world.

Mr Locke acknowledges that the evidence we have of this-
point is neither intuitive nor demonftrative j yet he thinks it may-
be called knowledge, and diftinguiflies it by the name of fenfitive
knowledge ; and, as the ground of this fenfitive knowledge, he
offers fome weak arguments, which would rather tempt one ta
doubt than to believe.

At laft Bifhop Berkeley and Arthur Collier, without any
knowledge of each other, as far as appears by their writings, un-
dertook to prove that there neither is nor can be a material worlch
The excellent flyle and elegant compofition of the former have
made his writings to be known and read, and this fyftem to be
attributed to him only, as if Collier had never exifled.

Both, indeed, owe fo much to Malebranche, that if we taka

out

640 . E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VII. out of his fyftem the peculiarities of our feeing all things in God,
and our learning the exiflence of an external world from divine
revelation, vi-hat remains is juft the fyftem of Bifhop Berkeley.
I make this obfervation by the way, in juftice to a foreign author,
to whom Britifh authors feem not to have allowed all that is due.

Mr Hume hath adopted Bifhop Berkeley's arguments againfl
the exiflence of matter, and thinks them unanfwerable.

We may obferve, that this great Metaphyfician, though in ge-
neral he declares in favour of univerfal fcepticifm, and therefore
may feem to have no firft principles at all, yet, with Des Cartes,
he always acknowledges the reality of thofe thoughts and opera-
tions of mind of which we are confcious. So that he yields the
antecedent of Des Cartes's enthymeme cogito^ but denies the
conclufion ergo fum^ the mind being, according to him, nothing
but that train of imprefTions and ideas of which we are confcious.

Thus we fee, that the modern philofophy, of which Des
Cartes may juflly be accounted the founder, being built upon
the ruins of the Peripatetic, has a fpirit quite oppofite, and runs
into a contrary extreme. The Peripatetic not only adopted as firft
principles thofe which mankind have always refted upon in their
moft important tranfa<5lions, but, along with them, many vulgar
prejudices ; fo that this fyftem was founded upon a wide bottom,
but in many parts unfound. The modern fyftem has narrowed
the foundation fo much, that every fuperftrudture raifed upon it
appears top-heavy.

From the fingle principle of the exiftence of our own thoughts,
very little, if any thing, can be deduced by juft reafoning, efpe-
cially if we fuppofe that all our other faculties may be fallacious.

Accordingly we find that Mr Hume was not the firft that was
led into fcepticifm by the want of firft principles. For foon after
Des Cartes there arofe a fecS in France called Egoifts^ who main-
tained

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 641

tained that we have no evidence of the exiftence of any thing but CHAP. vii.
ourfelves. *'

Whether thefe Egoifts, like Mr Hume, believed themfelvesto be
nothing but a train of ideas and impreffions, or to have a more
permanent exiftence, I have not learned, having never feen any of
their writings ; nor do I know whether any of this fedl did write
in fupport of their principles. One would think, they who did
not believe that there was any perfon to read, could have little in-
ducement to write, unlefs they were prompted by that inward mo-
nitor, which Persius makes to be the fource of genius and the
teacher of arts. There can be no doubt, however, of the exiftence
of fuch a fedl, as they are mentioned by many authors, and re-
futed by fome, particularly by Buffier, in his Treatife of firft
principles.

Thofe Egoifts and Mr Hume feem to me to have reafoned more
confequentially from Des Cartes principle than he did himfelf ;
and indeed I cannot help thinking, that all who have followed Des
Cartes method, of requiring proof by argument of every thing
except the exiftence of their own thoughts, have efcaped the abyfs
of fcepticifm by the help of weak reafoning and ftrong faith more
than by any other means. And they feem to me to a6l more con-
fiftently, who having rejedled the firft principles on which belief
muft be grounded, have no belief, than they, who, like the others,
rejedting firft principles, muft yet have a fyftem of belief, without
any folid foundation on which it may ftand.

The Philofophers I have hitherto mentioned, after the time of
Des Cartes, have all followed his method, in refting upon the
truth of their own thoughts as a firft principle, but requiring ar-
guments for the proof of every other truth of a contingent nature ;
but none of them, excepting Mr Locke, has exprefsly treated of
firft principles, or given any opinion of their utility or inutility.
We only colled their opinion from their following Des Cart£S

Mmmm in

642 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VII. jj^ requiring proof, or pretending to offer proof of the exiftence of
a material world, which furely ought to be received as a firft; prin-
ciple, if any thing be, beyond what we are confcious of.

I proceed, therefore, to confider what Mr Locke has faid on the
fubje<fl of firft principles or maxims.

I have not the lead doubt of this author's candour in what he
fomewhere fays, that his eflay was moftly fpun out of his own
thoughts. Yet it is certain, that, in many of the notions which
we are wont to afcribe to him, others were before him, particular-
ly, Des Cartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes. Nor is it at all to be
thought ftrange, that ingenious men, when they are got into the
fame track, ihould hit upon the fame things.

But, in the definition which he gives of knowledge in general,
and in his notions concerning axioms or firft principles, I know
none that went before him, though he has been very generally
followed in both.

His definition of knowledge, that it confifts folely in the percep-
tion of the agreement or dlfagreement of our ideas, has been al-
ready confidered. But fuppofing it to be juft, ftill it would be
true, that fome agreements and difagreements of ideas muft be im-
mediately perceived ; and fuch agreements or difagreements, when
they are exprefTed by affirmative or negative propofitions, are firft
principles, becaufe their truth is immediately difcerned as foon as
they are underftood.

This I think is granted by Mr Locke, book 4. chap. 2. " There
" is a part of our knowledge, fays he, which we may call intuitive.
" In this the mind is at no pains of proving or examining, but
*' perceives the truth as the eye does light, only by being diredled
" toward it. And this kind of knowledge is the cleareft and moft
** ceitain that human frailty is capable of. This part of know-

" ledee

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 643

" ledge is irrefiflible, and, like bright funfhine, forces itfelf im- ^HAP. viT.
" mediately to be perceived, as foon as ever the mind turns its
" view that way."

He farther obferves, " That this intuitive knowledge is neceflary
" to connedl all the (leps of a demonftration."

From this, I think, it neceffarily follows, that, in every branch
of knowledge, we muft make ufe of truths that are intuitively
known, in order to deduce from them fuch as require proof.

But I cannot reconcile this with what he fays, {e€i. 8. of the
fame chapter. " The neceffity of this intuitive knowledge in eve-
*' ry ftep of fcientifical or demonftrative reafoning gave occafion,
" I imagine, to that miftaken axiom, that all reafoning was expra-
" cogmtis et pracoticeffis, which, how far it is miftaken, I.fhall have
" occafion to (hew more at large, when I come to confider propo- "
" fitions, and particularly thofe propofitlons which are called ma-
" xims, and to fhew, that it is by a miftake that they are fuppo-
" fed to be the foundation of all our knowledge and reafonings."

I have carefully confidered the chapter on maxims, which Mr
Locke here refers to ; and though one would expedl, from the
quotation laft made, that it Ihould run contrary to what I have be-
fore delivered concerning firft principles, I find only two or three
fentences in it, and thofe chiefly incidental, to which I do not af-
fent ; and I am always happy in agreeing with a Philofopher whom
I fo highly refped.

He endeavours to fhow, that axioms or intuitive truths are not
innate.

To this I agree. I maintain only, that when the underftanding
is ripe, and when we diftindly apprehend fuch truths, we imme-
diately aflent to them.

M m m in 2 He

644 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VII. He obferves, that felf-cvldence is not peculiar to thofe propofi-
tions which pafs under the name of axioms, and have the dignity
of axioms afcribed to them.

I grant that there are innumerable felf-evident propofitions,
which have neither dignity nor utility, and therefore deferve not
the name of axioms, as that name is commonly underflood to im-
ply not only felf-evidence, but fome degree of dignity or utility.
That a man is a man, and that a man is not a horfe, are felf-evi-
dent proportions; but they are, as Mr Locke very juftly calls
them, trifling propofitions. Tillotson very wittily fays of fuch
propofitions, that they are fo furfeited with truth, that they are
good for nothing ; and as they deferve not the name of axioms,
fo neither do they deferve the name of knowledge.

He obferves, that fuch trifling felf-evident propofitions as we
have named are not derived from axloi;ns, and therefore that all our
knowledge is not derived from axioms.

I grant that they are not derived from axioms, becaufe they are
themfelves felf-evident. But it is an abufe of words to call them
knowledge, as it is, to call them axioms ; for no man can be faid
to be the wifer or more knowing for having millions of them in
ftore.

He obferves, that the particular propofitions contained under a
general axiom are no lefs felf-evident tlxan the general axiom, and
that they are fooner known and underftood. Thus it is as evident,
that my hand is lefs than my body, as that a part is lefs than the
whole ; and I know the truth of the particular propofition, fooner
than that of the general.

This is true. A man cannot perceive the truth of a general
axiom, fuch as, that a part is lefs than the whole, until he has the
general notions of a part and a whole formed in his mind ; and,

before

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 64^

befcre he has thefe general notions, he may perceive that his hand CHAP, vir.
is lefs than his body. '^

A great part of this chapter on maxims is levelled againft a no-
tion, which, it feems, fome have entertained, that all our know-
ledge is derived from thefe tMi'o maxims, to wit, wJiatever is, is ;
and k is impoffible for the f^me thing to be, and not to be. , ,

This I take to be a ridiculous notion, juftly defervirig the treat-
ment which Mr Locke has given it, if it at all merited his no-
tice.. Thefe are identical propoficions ; they aa-e trifling, and fur-
feited with truth : No knQwledge. can be derived from.them.

Having mentioned how far I agree with Mr Locke concerning-
maxims or firft principles, I Ihall next take notice of two or three
tilings, wherein I cannot agree with hiiftijii 07; .

In the feventh fedliori of this chapter, he fays. That concerning
the real exiftence of all other beings> belides ourfelves, and a firjl
caufe, there are no maxims.

I have endeavoured to fliow that there are maxims or firft prin-
ciples with regard to other exiftences. Mr Locke acknowledges
that we have a knowledge of fuch exiftences, which, he fays, is
neither intuitive nor demonftrative, and which therefore he calls
fenfitive knowledge. It is demonftrable, and was long ago demon-
ftrated by Aristotle, that every propofition to which we give a
rational affent, muft either have its evidence in itfelf, or derive it
from fome antecedent propofition. And the fame thing may be
faid of the antecedent propofition. As therefore we cannot go
back to antecedent propoficions without end, the evidence muft at
laft reft upon propofitions, one or more, which have their evidence
in themfelves, that is, upon firft principles.

As to the evidence of our own exiftence, and of the exift£nce of

a*

646 ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VII. ^ £rft caufe, Mr LocpCE does uot fay whether it refls upon firft
principles or not. But it is maaifeft, from what he has faid upon
both, that it does.

With regard to our own cxiftence, fays he, we perceive it fo
plainly, and fo certainly, that it neither needs nor is capable of
any proof. This is as much .a« to fay, that our own exlftence is a
firft principle ; for it is applying to this truth the very definition
of a firft principle.

He adds, that if I doubt, that very doubt makes me perceive
my own exiftence, and will nor fuffer me to doubt of that. If I
feel pain, I have as certain perception of my exiftence as of the
pain I feel.

Here we have two firft principles plainly implied : Fir/}^ That
my feeling pain, or being confcious of pain, is a certain evidence
of the real exiftence of that pain. And, fecondly^ That pain can-
not exift without a mind, or being that is pained. That thefe are
firft principles, and incapable of proof, Mr Locke acknowledges.
And it is certain, that if they are not true, we can have no evi-
dence of our own exiftence. For if we may feel pain when no
pain really exifts, or if pain may exift without any being that is
pained, then it is certain that our feeling pain can give us no evi-
dence of our exiftence.

Thus it appears, that the evidence of our own exiftence, ac-
cording to the view that Mr Locke gives of it, is grounded upon
two of thofe firft principles which we had occafion to mention.

If we confider the argument he has given for the exiftence of a
firft intelligent caufe, it is no lefs evident that it is grounded upon
other two of them. The firft. That what begins to exift muft have
a caufe of its exiftence ; and the fecond, That an unintelligent and
unthinking being, cannot be the caufe of beings that are thinking

and

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 647

and intelligent. Upon thefe two principles, he argues very con- CHAP, vir.
vincingly for the exiftence of a firfl intelligent caufe of things.
And, if thefe principles are not true, we can have ao proof of the
exiftence of a firft caufe, either from our own exiftence, or from
the exiftence of other things that fall within our view.

Another thing advanced by Mr Locke -upon this fubjed, is, that '
no fcience is, or hath been built upon maxims.

Surely Mr Locke was not ignorant of geometry, which hath
been built upon maxims prefixed to the elements, as far back as
we are able to trace it. But though they had not been prefixed,
which was a matter of utility rather than neceffity, yet it muft be
granted, that every demonftration in geometry is grounded, either
upon propofitions formerly demonftj-ated, or upon felf-evident
principles.

Mr Locke farther fays, that maxims are not of ufe to help men
forward in the advancement of the fciences, or new difcoveries of
yet unknown truths: That Newton, in the difcoveries he has
made in his never enough to be admired book, has not been aflift- ■
ed by the general maxims, whatever is, is ; or the whole is greater
than a part, or the like.

I anfwer, the firft of thefe is, as was before obferved, an identi-
cal trifling propofition, of no ufe In mathematics, or in any other
fcience. The fecond is often ufed by Newton, and by all Ma-
thematicians, and many demonftrations reft upon it. In general,
Newton, ats well as all other Mathematicians, grounds his demon-
ftrations of mathematical propofitions upon the axioms laid down
by EucLTD, or upon propofitions which have been before demon-
ftrated by help of thofe axioms.

But it deferves to be particularly obferved, that Newton, bi>i
tending in the third book of his Principia,, to give a more fcien-

tific

M • E S S A Y VI.

CHAP. VII. jj£j^ form to the phyfical part of aftronomy, which he had at firft
compofed in a popular form, thought proper to follow the exam-
ple of EacLiD, and to lay down firft, in what he calls, Regulce
Fhilofopha7idi^ and in his Phanomena, the firft principles which he
aflumes in his reafoning.

Nothing, therefore, could have been more unluckily adduced by
Mr Locke to fupport his averfion to firft principles, than the ex-
ample of Sir Isaac Newton, who, by laying down the firft
principles upon which he reafons in: thofe parts of natural phildfo-
phy which he cultivated, has given a ftability to that fcience which'
it never had before, and which it will retain to the end of the world.

I am now to give fome account of a Philofopher, who wrote ex-
prefsly on the fubjecl of firft principles, after Mr Locke.

Pere Buffier, a French Jefuit, firft publifhed his Tra'tte des
premiers Feriiez, et de la fource de nos jugements, in 8vo, if I miftake
not, in the year 1724.. It was afterwards publilhed in folio, as a
•puTt of his Cours des /deuces. Farisy 1732.

He defines firft principles to be propofitions fo clear, that they
can neither be proved, nor combated by thofe that are more clear.

The firft fource of firft principles he mentions, is, that intimate
convidlion which every man has of his own exiftence, and of what
pafles in his own piind. Some Philofophers, he obferves, admit-
ted thefe as firft principles, who were unwilling to admit any
others ; and he fliows the ftrange confequences that follow from
this fyftem.

A fecond fource of firft principles he makes to be common fenfe ;
which, he obferves, Philofophers have noc been wont to confider.
He defines it to be, the difpofition which Nature has planted in all
men, or the far greater part, which leads .them, when they come to
the ufe of reafon, to form a common and uniform judgment upon

objecfls

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 649

objeds which are not objecfts of confcioufnefs, nor are founded on CHAP. vil.
any antecedent judgment.

He mentions, not as a full enumeration, but as a fpecimen, the
following principles of common fenfe.

1 . That there are gther beings, and other men in the univerfe,
befides myfelf.

2. That there is in them fomething that is called truth, wifdom,
prudence, and that thefe things are not purely arbitrary.

3. That there is fomething in me which I call intelligence, and
fomething which is not that intelligence, which I call my body,
and that thefe things have different properties.

4. That all men are not in a confpiracy to deceive me and im-
pofe upon my credulity.

5. That what has not intelligence cannot produce the effedls of
intelligence, nor can pieces of matter thrown together by chance
form any regular work, fuch as a clock or watch.

• He explains very particularly the feveral parts of his definition
of common fenfe, and fliews how the didlates of common fenfe
may be diftinguifhed from common prejudices ; and then enters
into a particular confideration of the primary truths that concern
being in general ; the truths that concern thinking beings ; thofe
that concern body ; and thofe on which the various branches of
human knowledge are grounded.

I {hall not enter into a detail of his fentiments on thefe fubjecHis.
I think there is more which I take to be original' in this treatife,
than in mofl books of the metaphyfical kind I have met with ;
that many of his laotions are Iblid ; and that others, which 1 can-
not altogether approve, are ingenious.

N n n n The

6so E S S A Y^ VI.

CHAP. VII. Yhe other writers I have mentioned, after Des Cartes, may, I
think, without Impropriety, be called Cartefians : For though they
differ from Des Cartes in fome things, and contradict him in
others, yet they fet out from the fame principles, and follow the
fame method, admitting no other firft principle with regard to the
exiftence of things but their own exiftence, and the exiflence of
thofe operations of mind of which they are confcious, and re-
quiring that the exiflence of a material world, and the exiflence
of other men and things, ihould be proved by argument.

This method of philofophifing is common to Des Cartes,
Malebranche, Arnauld, Locke, Norris, Collier, Berke-
ley, and Hume ; and, as it was introduced by Des Cartes, I
call it the Cartefian fyflem, and thofe who follow it Cartefians,
not intending any difrefpe<5l by this term, but to fignify a parti-
cular method of philofophifing common to them all, and begun
by Des Cartes.

Some of thefe have gone the utmoft length in fcepticifm, leaving
no exiflence in Nature but that of ideas and imprefTions. Some
have endeavoured to throw ofl' the belief of a material world only,
and to leave us ideas and fpirits. All of them have fallen into
, very grofs paradoxes, which can never fit eafy upon the human
underflanding, and which, though adopted in the clofet, men find
themfelvcs under a neceffity of throwing ofi' and difclaiming
when they enter into fociety.

Indeed, in my judgment, thofe who have reafoned mofl acutely
and confequentially upon this fyflem, are they that have gone
deepefl into fcepticifm.

Father Buffier, however, is no Cartefian in this fenfc. He
feems to have perceived the defe(5ls of the Cartefian fyflem while
it was in the meridian of its glory, and to have been aware that
a ridiculous fcepticifm is the natural iffue of ir, and therefore

nobly

OPINIONS ABOUT FIRST PRINCIPLES. 651

nobly attempted to lay a broader foundation for human knowledge, CHAP, v
and has the honour of being the firft, as far as I know, after Ari-
stotle, who has given the world a juft treatife upon firft prin-
ciples.

Some late writers, particularly Dr Oswald, Dr Beattie, and
Dr Campbell, have been led into a way of thinking fomewhat
fimilar to that of Buffier ; the two former, as I have reafon to
believe, without any intercourfe with one another, or any know-
ledge of what Buffier had wrote on the fubjed. Indeed, a man
who thinks, and who is acquainted with the philofophy of Mr
Hume, will very naturally be led to apprehend, that, to fupport
the fabric of human knowledge, fome other principles are necef-
fapy than thofe of Des Cartes and Mr Locke. Buffier muft
be acknowledged to have the merit of having difcovered this, be-
fore the confequences of the Cartefian fyftem were fo fully dis-
played as they have been by Mr Hume. But I am apt to think,
that the man who does not fee this now, muft have but a fuper-
ficial knowledge of thefe fubjeds.

The three writers above mentioned have my high efteem and
afFe(flion as men ; but I intend to fay nothing of them as writers
upon this fubjedt, that I may not incur the cenfure of partiality.
Two of them have been joined fo clofely with me in the animad-
verfions of a celebrated writer, that we may be thought too near
of kin to give our teftimony of one another.

CHAP. VIII.
Of Prejudices^ the Caiifes of 'Error.

OUR intelledual powers are wifely fitted by the Author of
our nature for the difcovery of truth, as far as fuits our
prefent ftate. Error is not their natural iflue, any more than dif-

N n n n 2 eafc

6s2 ESSAY Vr.

CHAP.viir. eafe is of the natural ftrudlure of the body. Yet, as we are lia:ble
to various difeafes of body from accidental caufes, external and
internal; fo we are, from like caufes, liable to wrong judgments.

Medical writers have endeavoured to enumerate the difeafes of
the body, and to reduce them to a fyftem, under the name of "no-
fology ; and it were to be wilhed that we had alfo a nofqlogy of the
human underftanding.

When we kiiow a diforder of the body, we are often at a lofs
to find the proper remedy ; but in mod cafes the'diforders of the
underftanding point out their remedies fo plainly, that he -who
knows the one muft know the other.

Many authors have furnifhed ufeful materials for this purpofe,
and fome have endeavoured to reduce them to a fyftem. I like
beft the general divifion given of them by Lord Bacon in his
fifth hook De aiigmentis fcientiarum^ and more fully treated in his No-
vum Orgafium. He divides them into four clafles, idola tr'ibus, idola
fpecus, idola fori^ and idola thealri. The names are perhaps fanci-
ful; but I think the divifion judicious, like moft of the produc-
tions of that wonderful genius. And as this divifion was firft
made by him, he may be indulged the privilege of giving names
to its feveral members.

I propofe in this chapter to explain the feveral members of this
divifion, according to the meaning of the author, and to give in-
ftances of each, without confining myfelf to thofe which Lord
Bacon has given, and without pretending to a complete enume»
ration.

To every bias of the underftanding, by which a man may be
mifled in judging, or drawn into error. Lord Bacon gives the
name of an idol. The underftanding, in its natural and beft ftate,
pays its homage to truth only. The caufes of error are confidered

.by

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 6s3

by him as fo many falfe deities, who recei.ve the homage which is CHAP.VIII.
due only to truth. "

The firfl: clafs are the idola tribus. Thefe are fuch as befet the
whole human fpecies ; fo that every man is in danger from them.
They arife from principles of the human conftiturion, which are
highly ufeful and neceflary in our prefent ftate ;. but, by their ex-
cefs or defed, or wrong diredion, may lead us into error.

As the adive principles of the human frame are wifely contri-
ved by the Author of our being for the direction of our adions,
and yet, without proper regulation and reftraint, are apt to lead us
wrong ; fo it is alfo with regard to thofe parts of our conftitutiou
that have influence upon our opinions. Of this we may take the
following inftances :

I. Firjl^ Men are prone to be led too much by authority in their
opinions.

In the firfl pait af life we have no other guide ; and without a
difpofition to receive implicitly what we are taught, we fhould be
incapable of inftrudion, and incapable of improvement.

When judgment is ripe, there are many .things in which we are
incompetent judges. In fuch matters, it is mod reafonable to rely
upon the judgment of thofe whom we believe to be competent and
difinterefted. The higheft court of judicature in the nation relies
upon the authority of lawyers and phyficians in matters belonging
to their refpedlive profeffions.

Even in matters which we have accefs to know, authority always
will have^ and ought to have more or lefs weight, in proportion to
the evidence on which our own judgment rells, and the opinion'
we have of the judgment and candour of thofe who differ from
us, or agree with us. The models man, confcious of his own fal-
libility

-4 ESSAY Vr.

CHAP.viii. libillty in judging, is in danger of giving too much to authority;
the arrogant of giving too little.

In all matters belonging to our cognifance, every man muft; be
determined by his own final judgment, otherwife he does not a(ft
the part of a rational being. Authority may add weight to one
fcale; but the man holds the balance, and judges what weight he
ought to allow to authority.

If a man fhould even claim infallibility, we mufl judge of his
title to that prerogative. If a man pretend to be an AmbafTador
from heaven, we muft judge of his credentials. No claim can
deprive us of this right, or excufe us for negledling to exercife it.

As therefore our regard to authority may be either too great or
too fmall, the bias of human nature feems to lean to the firft of
thefe extremes ; and I believe it is good for men in general that it
ihould do fo.

When this bias concurs with an indifference about truth, its
operation will be the more powerful.

The love of truth is natural to man, and ftrong in every well-
difpofed mind. But it may be overborn by party-zeal, by vani-
ty, by the defire of vidlory, or even by lazinefs. When it is fu-
perior to thefe, it is a manly virtue, and requires the exercife of
induftry, fortitude, felf-denial, candour, and opennefs to convidlion.

As there are perfons in the world of fo mean and abjecfl a fpi-
rit, that they rather chufe to owe their fubfiftence to the charity
of others, than by induftry to acquire fome property of their own ;
fo there are many more who may be called mere beggars with re-
gard to their opinions. Through lazinefs and indifference about
truth, they leave to others the drudgery of digging for this com-
■ modify ; they can have enough at fecond hand to ferve their oc-

cafions.

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 655

cafions. Their concern is not to know what is true, but what is CHAP.VIII.
faid and thought on fuch fubjedls ; and their underflanding, Hke
their clothes, is cut according to the Fafliion.

This dlftemper of the underflanding has taken fo deep root in a
great part of mankind, that it can hardly be faid that they ufe
their own judgment in things that do not concern their temporal
intereft; nor is it peculiar to the ignorant ; it infedls all ranks^
We may guefs their opinions when we know where they were
born, of what parents, how educated, and what company they
have kept. Thefe circumflances determine their opinions in re-
ligion, in politics, and in philofophy.

2. A fecond general prejudice arifes from a difpofition to mea-
fure things lefs known, and lefs familiar, by thofe that are better
known and more familiar.

This is the foundation of analogical reafoning, to which we
have a great pronenefs by nature, and to it indeed we owe a great
part of our knowledge. It would be abfurd to lay afide this kind
of reafoning altogether, and it is difiScult to judge how far we
may venture upon it. The bias of human nature is to judge from
too flight analogies.

The objecfls of fenfe engrofs our thoughts in the firfl part of life,
and are moft familiar through the whole of it. Hence in all ages '
men have been prone to attribute the human figure and human
paffions and frailties to fuperior intelligences, and even to the Su-
preme Being.

There is a difpofition in men to materialize every thing, if I
may be allowed the exprefiion ; that is, to apply the notions we
have of material objedls to things of another nature. Thought is
confidered as analogous to motion in a body ; and as bodies are
put in motion by impulfes, and by impreffions made upon them

by

O56 ESSAY VI.

CHAP.vill. by contiguous objetTis, we are apt to conclude that the mind is
made to think by impreflions made upon it, and that there mufl
be fome kind of contiguity between it and the objedls of thought.
Hence the theories of ideas and imprefTions have fo generally pre-
vailed.

Becaufe the moft perfect works of human artifts are made after
a model, and of materials that before exifted, the ancient Phi-
lofophers vmiverfally believed that the world was made of a pre-
exiftent uncreated matter ; and many of them, that there were
eternal and uncreated models of every fpecies of things which God
made.

The miftakes in common life, which arc owing to this prejudice,
are innumerable, and cannot efcape the flighteft obfervation. Men
judge of other men by themfelves, or by the fmall circle of their
acquaintance. The felfifh man thinks all pretences to benevolence
and public fpirit to be mere hypocrify or felf-deceit. The gene-
rous and open hearted believe fair pretences too eafily, and are apt
to think men better than they really are. The abandoned and
profligate can hardly be perfuaded that there is any fuch thing as
real virtue in the world. The ruftic forms his notions of the man-
ners and characters of men from thofe of his country village, and
is eafily duped when he comes into a great city.

It is commonly taken for granted, that this narrow way of judg-
ing of men is to be cured only by an extenfive intercourfe with
men of diflferent ranks, profefHons, and nations ; and that the
man whofe acquaintance has been confined within a narrow circle,
muft have many prejudices and narrow notions, which a more ex-
tenfive intercourfe would have cured.

3. Men are often led into error by the love of fimplicity, which
difpofes us to reduce things to few principles, and to conceive a
greater fimplicity iii nature than there really is.

To

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 637

To love fimplicity, and to be pleafed with it wherever we find CHAP.virr.
it, is no imperfedion, but the contrary. It is the refult of good
tafte. y^ cannot but be pleafed to obferve, that all the changes
of motion produced by the collifion of bodies, hard, foft, or elaftic,
are reducible to three fimple laws of motion, which the induftry
of Philofophers has difcovered.

When we confider what a prodigious variety of efFe(5ls depend
upon the law of gravitation ; how many phaenomena in the earth,
fea, and air, which, in all preceding ages, had tortured the wits of
Philofophers, and occafioned a thoufand vain theories, are fliown
to be the neceflary confequences of this one law ; how the whole
fyftem of fun, moon, planets, primary and fecondary, and comets,
are kept in order by it, and cheir feeming irregularities accounted
for and reduced to accurate meafure ; the fimplicity of the caufe,
and the beauty and variety of the efFeds, muft give pleafure to ^
every contemplative mind. By this noble difcovery, we are
taken, as it were, behind the fcene in this great drama of Nature^
and made to behold fome part of the art of the divine Author of
this fyftem, which, before this difcovery, eye had not feen, nor ear
heard, nor had it entered into the heart of man to conceive.

There is, without doubt, in every work of Nature all the beauti-
ful fimplicity that is confiftent with the end for which it was made.
But if we hope to difcover how Nature brings about its ends,
merely from this principle, that it operates in the fimpleft and beft
way, we deceive ourfelves, and forget that the wifdom of Nature
is more above the wifdom of man, than man's wifdom is above
that of a child.

If a child Ihould fit down to contrive how a city is to be forti-
fied, or an army arranged in the day of battle, he would, no
doubt, conjeaure what, to his underftanding, appeared the fimpleft
and beft way. But could he ever hit upon the true way ? No
furely. When he learns from fad how thefe effeas are produced,
he will then fee how foolifti his childifh conjedures were.

O o o o We

658 ESSAY VI.

CHAP.viii. We may learn fomething of the way in which Nature operates,
from fa.&. and obfervation ; but if we conclude that it operates in
fuch a manner, only becaufe to our underflanding, that appears to
be the beft and fimj)left manner, we fhall always go wrong.

. It was believed, for many ages, that all the variety of concrete
bodies we find on this globe is reducible to four elements, of which
they are compounded, and into which they may be refolved. It
was the fimplicity of this theory, and not any evidence from fad,
that made it to be fo generally received ; for the more it is exa-
mined, we find the lefs ground to believe it.

The Pythagoreans and Platonifts were carried farther by the fame
love of fimplicity. Pythagoras, by his fliill in mathematics,
difcovered, that there can be no more than five regular folid fi-
gures, terminated by plain furfaces, which are all fimilar and
equal ; to wit, the tetrahedron, the cube, the octahedron, the do-
decahedron, and the eicofihedron. As Nature works in the moft
fimple and regular way, he thought that all the elementary bodies
muft have one or other of thofe regular figures j and that the dif-
covery of the properties and relations of the regular folids would
be a key to open the myfteries of Nature.

This notion of the Pythagoreans and Platonifts has undoubted-
ly great beauty and fimplicity. Accordingly it prevailed, at leaft,
to the time of Euclid. He was a Platonic Philofopher, and is
faid to have wrote all the books of his Elements, in order to difco-
ver the properties and relations of the five regular folids. This
ancient tradition of the intention of Euclid in writing his Ele-
ments, is countenanced by the work itfelf. For the laft books of
the Elements treat of the regular folids, and all the preceding are
fubfervient to the laft.

So that this moft ancient mathematical work, which, for its ad-
mirable compoficion, has ferved as a model to all fucceeding wri-
ters

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 659

ters in mathematics, feems, like the two firft books of Newton's CHap.viii.
Principia^ to have been intended by its author to exhibit the ma-
thematical principles of natural philofophy.

It was long believed, that all the qualities of bodies, and all
their medical virtues, were reducible to four ; moiflure and dry-
nefs, heat and cold : And that there are only four temperaments of
the human body ; the fanguine, the melancholy, the bilious, and
the phlegmatic. The chemical fyftem, of reducing all bodies to
fait, fulphur, and mercury, was of the fame kind. For how ma-
ny ages did men believe, that the divifion of all the obje(5ls of
thought into ten categories, and of all that can be affirmed or de-
nied of any thing, into five univerfals or predicables, were per-
ie€\. enumerations ?

The evidence from reafon that could be produced for thofe
fyftems was next to nothing, and bore no proportion to the ground
they gained in the belief of men ; but they were fimple and re-
gular, and reduced things to a few principles ; and this fupplied
their want of evidence.

Of all the fyftems we know, that of Des Cartes was moft re-
markable for its fimplicity. Upon one propofition, I think ^ he builds
the whole fabric of human knowledge. And from mere matter,
with a certain quantity of motion given it at firft, he accounts for
all the phaenomena of the material world.

The phyfical part of this fyftem was mere hypothefis. It had
nothing to recommend it but its fimplicity ; yet it had force enough
to overturn the fyftem of Aristotle, after that fyftem had pre-
vailed for more than a thoufand years.

The principle of gravitation, and other attrading and repel-
ling forces, after Sir Isaac Newton had given the ftrongeft evi-
dence of their real exiftence in Nature, were rejeded by the great-

Q o o o 2 eft

66o ESSAY VI.

CHAP. VIII. eft part of Europe for half a century, becaufe they could not be
accounted for by matter and motion. So much were men ena-
moured with the fimplicity of the Cartefian fyftem.

Nay, I apprehend, it was this love of fimplicity, more than real
evidence, that led Newton himfelf to fay, in the preface to his
Principia, fpeaking of the phaenomena of the material world,
" Nam multa me movent ut nonnihil fufpicer, ea omnia ex viri-
** bus quibufdam pendere pofle, quibus corporum particulae, per
" caufas nondum cognitas, vel in fe mutuo impelluntur, et fecun-
" dum figuras regulares cohserent, vel ab invicem fugantur et re-
" cedunt." For certainly we have no evidence from fact, that all
the phenomena of the material world are produced by attrading
or repelling forces.

With his ufual modefly, he propofes it only as a flight fufpicion;
and the ground of this fufpicion could only be, that he faw that
many of the phenomena of Nature depended upon caufes of this
kind; and therefore was difpofed, from the fimplicity of Nature,
to think that all do.

When a real caufe is difcovered, the fame love of fimplicity
leads men to attribute efiFccls to it which are beyond its province.

A mfeditine that is found to be of great ufe in one diftemper,
commonly has its virtues multiplied, till it becomes a panacea.
Thofe who have lived long, can recolledl many inftances of this.
In other branches of knowledge, the fame thing often happens.
When the attention of men is turned to any particular caufe, by
difcovering it to have remarkable effe<Els, they are in great danger
of extending its influence, upon flight evidence, to things With
which it has no conned^ion. Such prejudices arife from the natu-
ral defire of fimplifying natural caufes, and of accounting for ma-
ny phaenomena from the fame principle.

4. One

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 66i

4. One of the moft copious fources of error in philofophy is the CHAP.viii.
mifapplication of our nobleft intelledual power to purpofes for
which it is incompetent.

Of all the intelledual powers of man, that of invention bears
the highefl: price. It refembles mofl the power of creation, and is
honoured with that name.

We admire the man who fliews a fuperiority in the talent of
finding the means of accompliihing an end ; who can, by a hap-
py combination, produce an effedl, or make a difcovery beyond
the reach of other men ; who can draw important conclufions from
circumftances that commonly pafs unobferved ; who judges with
the greateft fagacity of the defigns of other men, and the confe-
quences of his own adions. To this fuperiority of underftanding
we give the name of genius, and look up with admiration to every
thing that bears the marks of it.

Yet this power, fo highly valuable in itfelf, and fb ufeful in the
condudl of life, may be mifapplied ; and men of genius, in all
ages, have been prone to apply it to purpofes for which it is alto-
gether incompetent.

The works of men and the works of Nature are not of the
fame order. The force of genius may enable a man perfedly to
comprehend the former, and to fee them to the bottom. What is
contrived and executed by one man may be perfedly underftood
by another man. With great probability, he may from a part
conjecture the whole, or from the effedls may conj.e<5lure the
caufes ; becaufe they are eiFeds of a wifdom not fuperipr to his
own.

But the works of Nature are contrived and executed hy a wiA
dom and power infinitely fuperior to that of man ; and when
men attempt, by the force of genius, to difcover the caufes of the

phaenomena

662 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP.VIII.
V .. '

phasnomena of" Nature, they have only the chance of going wrong
more ingenioufly. Their conjedures may appear very probable
to beings no wifer than themfelves ; but they have no chance to
hit the truth. They are like the conjedlures of a child how a fhip
of war is built, and how it is managed at fea.

Let the man of genius try to make an animal, even the meanefl ;
to make a plant, or even a fingle leaf of a plant, or feather of a
bird ; he will find that all his wifdom and fagacity can bear no
comparifon with the wifdom of Nature, nor his power with the
power of Nature.

The experience of all ages fhows how prone ingenious men
have been to invent hypothefes to explain the phenomena of Na-
ture ; how fond, by a kind of anticipation, to difcover her fecrets.
Inflead of a flow and gradual afcent in the fcale of natural caufes,
by a juft and copious indudion, they would Ihorten the work,
and, by a flight of genius, get to the top at once. This gratifies
the pride of human underflanding ; but it is an attempt beyond
our force, like that of Phaeton to guide the chariot of the fun.

When a man has laid out all his ingenuity in fabricating a
fyflem, he views it with the eye of a parent ; he flrains phaeno-
mena to make them tally with it, and make it look like the work
of Nature.

The flow and patient method of indudion, the only way to at-
tain any knowledge of Nature's work, was little underftood until
it was delineated by Lord Bacon, and has been Uttle followed
fince. It humbles the pride of man, and puts him eonftantly in
mind that his mofl ingenious conjedures with regard to the works
of God are pitiful and childifh.

There is no room here for the favourite talent of invention. In
the humble method of information, from the great volume of Na-
ture

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 66^

tare we mufl receive all our knowledge of Nature. Whatever is CHAP.viii.
beyond a juft interpretation of that volume is the work of man ;
and the work of God ought not to be contaminated by any mix-
ture with it.

To a man of genius, felf-denial is a diiEcult leilbn in philofb-
phy as well as in religion. To bring his fine imaginations and
mofl ingenious conjecflures to the fiery trial of experiment and in-
dudlion, by which the greater part, if not the whole, will be
found to be drofs, is a humiliating talk. This is to condemn him
to dig in a mine, when he would fly with the wings of an eagle.

In all the fine arts, whofe end is to pleafe, genius is defervedly
fupreme. In the condu(5l of human affairs it often does wonders j
but in all enquiries into the conftitution of Nature it muil a6l a
fubordinate part, ill-fuited to the fuperiority it boafts. It may
combine, but it muft not fabricate. It may coUedl evidence, but
muft not fupply the want of it by conjecture. It may difplay ita
powers by putting Nature to the queftion in well-contrived expe-
riments, but it muft add nothing to her anfwers.

5. In avoiding one extreme, men are very apt to rufli into the
oppofite.

Thus, in rude ages, men, unaccuftomed to fearch for natural
caufes, afcribe every uncommon appearance to the immediate in-
terpofition of invifible beings ; but when philofophy has diftO-
vered natural caufes of many events, which, in the days of igno-
rance, were afcribed to the immediate operation of gods or das-
mons, they are apt to think, that all the phenomena of Nature may
be accounted for in the fame way, and that there is no need of aa
invifible Maker and Governor of the world.

Rude men are at firft difpofed to afcribe intelligence and adllve
power to every thing they fee move or undergo any change. " Sa-

** vages,.

664 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP.viii. " vages, fays the Abbe Raynal, wherever they fee motion which
" they cannot account for, there they fuppofe a foul." When
they come to be convinced of the folly of this extreme, they are
apt to run into the oppofite, and to think that every thing moves
only as it is moved, and a<5ls as it is adled upon.

Thus, from the extreme of luperftition, the tranfition is eafy to
that of atheifm ; and from the extreme of afcribing a(5livity to
every part of Nature, to that of excluding it altogether, and ma-
king even the determinations of intelligent beings, the links of one
fatal chain, or the wheels of one great machine.

The abufe of occult qualities in the Peripatetic philofophy led
Des Cartes and his followers to rejed all occult qualities ; to pre-
tend to explain all the phenomena of Nature by mere matter and
motion, and even to fix difgrace upon the name of occult quality.

6. Mens judgments are often perverted by their afFedions and
pafGons. This is fo commonly obferved, and fo univerfally ac-
knowledged, that it needs no propf nor illuftration.

The fecond dafs of idols in Lord Bacon's divifion are the idola
fpecus,

Thefe are prejudices which have their origin, not from the con-
flitution of human nature, but from fomething peculiar to the indi-
vidual.

As in a cave objedls vary in their appearance according to the
form of the cave and the manner in which it receives the light.
Lord Bacon conceives the mind of every man to refemble a cave,
which has its particular form, and its particular manner of being
enlightened ; and, from thefe circumftances, often gives falfe co-
lours and a delufive appearance to objedts feen in it.

For

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 66s

For this reafon, he gives the name oi idola fpecus to thofe preju- CHAPAail.
dices which arife from the particular way in which a man has
been trained, from his being addi(5led to fome particular profeffion,
or from fomething particular in the turn of his mind.

A man whofe thoughts have been confined to a certain track
by his profeffion or manner of life, is very apt to judge wrong
when he ventures out of that track. He is apt to draw every
thing within the fphere of his profeffion, and to judge by its
maxims of things that have no relation to it.

The mere Mathematician is apt to apply meafure and calcula-
tion to things which do not admit of it. Diredl and inverfe ratios
have been applied by an ingenious author to meafure human af-
fedlions, and the moral worth of adtions. An eminent Mathema-
tician attempted to afcertain by calculation, the ratio in which the
evidence of fadls muft decreafe in the courfe of time, and fixed
the period when the evidence of the fadls on which Chriftianity is
founded fliall become evanefcent, and when in confequence no
faith fhall be found on the earth. I have feen a philofophical dif-
fertation publifhed by a very good Mathematician, wherein, in op-
pofition to the ancient divifion of things into ten categories, he
maintains that there are no more, and can be no more than two
categories, to wit, data and queefita.

The ancient Chemifts were wont to explain all the myfleries of
Nature, and even of religion, by fait, fulphur, and mercury.

Mr Locke, I think, mentions an eminent Mufician, who be-
lieved chat God created the world in fix days, and refted the fe-
venth, becaufe there are but feven notes in mufic. I knew one of
that profeffion, who thought that there could be only three parts
in harmony, to wit, bafs, tenor, and treble ; becaufe there are
but three perfons in the Trinity.

Pppp The

666 ESSAY VI.

-V

CHAF.viil. Tjje learned and ingenious Dr H^nry More having very elabo-
rately and methodically compiled his Enchiridium Metapb)ftcum,
and Enchiridium Ethicum^ found all the divifions and fubdivifions
of both to be allegorically taught in the firft chapter of Genefis.
Thus even very ingenious men are apt to make a ridiculous figure,
by drawing into the track, in which their thoughts have long run,
things altogether foreign to it.

Different perfons, either from temper or from education, have
different tendencies of underllanding, which, by their excefs, are
unfavourable to found judgment.

Some have an undue admiration of antiquity, and contempt of
whatever is modern j others go as far into tiie contrary extreme.
It may be judged, that the former are perfons who value themfelves
upon their acquaintance with ancient authors, and the latter fuch
as have little knowledge of this kind.

Some are afraid to venture a ftep out of the beaten track, and
think it fafeft to go with the multitude ; others are fond of fmgu.-
larities, and of every thing that has the air of paradox.

Some are defultory and changeable in their opinions ; others
unduly tenacious. Moft men have a predilection for the tenets of
their fe(5l or party, and ftill more for their own inventions.

The idola fori are the fallacies arifing from the imperfedion*
and the abufe of language, which is an inftrument of thought as
well as of the communication of our thoughts.

Whether it be the effed of conftitutlon or of habit, I will not
take upon me to determine ; but, from one or both of thefe caufes,.
it happens, that no man can purfue a train of thought or reafoning
without the ufe of language. Words arc the figns of our thoughts ;

and

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 667

and the fign is fo affociated with the thing fignified, that the lad CHAP.vin.
can hardly prefent itfelf to the imagination, without drawing the
other along with it.

A man who would compofe in any language, muft think in that
language. If he thinks in one language what he would exprefs in
another, he thereby doubles his labour, and after all, his expref-
fions will have more the air of a tranflation than of an original.

This (hows, that our thoughts take their colour in fome degree
from the language we ufe ; and that, although language ought al-
ways to be fubfervient to thought, yet thought muft be at fome
times, and in fome degree, fubfervient to language. > '

As a fervant that is extremely ufeful and neceffary to his mafter,
by degrees acquires an authority over him, fo that the mafter muft
often yield to the fervant ; fuch is the cafe with regard to language.
Its intention is to be a fervant to the underftanding ; but it is fo
ufeful and fo neceffary, that we cannot avoid being fometimes led
by it when it ought to follow. We cannot Ihake off this impedi-
ment, we muft drag it along with us ; and therefore muft diredl
our courfe, and regulate our pace, as it permits.

Language muft have many imperfections when applied to philo-
fophy, becaufe it was not made for that ufe. In the early periods
of fbciety, rude and ignorant men ufe certain forms of fpeech, to
exprefs their wants, their defires, and their tranfa6tions with one '
another. Their language can reach no farther than their fpecula-
tioiis and notions ; and if their notions be vague and ill defined,
the words by which they exprefs them muft be fo likewife.

It was a grand and noble projedl of Bifliop Wilkins, to inA-^ent
a philofophical language, which Ihould be free from the imperfec-
tions of vulgar languages. Whether this attempt will ever fucceed,

P p p p 2 fo

668 E S S A Y VI.

CHAP.VIII. fa far as to be generally ufeful, I fhall not pretend to determine.
The great pains taken by that excellent man in this defign have
hitherto produced no effedt. Very few have ever entered minute-
ly into his views ; far lefs have his philofophical language and his
real charader been brought into ufe.

He founds his philofophical language and real chara<5ler upon a
fyftematical divifion and fubdivifion of all the things which may
be exprefled by language, and, inftead of the ancient divifion into
ten categories, has made forty categories, or fumma genera. But
whether this divifion, though made by a very comprehenfive mind,
will always fuit the various fyftems that may be introduced^ and all
the real improvements that may be made in human knowledge,
may be doubted. The difficulty is ftill greater in the fubdivifions;
fo that it is to be feared, that this noble attempt of a great genius
will prove abortive, until Philofophers have the fame opinions and
the fame fyflems in the various branches of human knowledge.

There is more reafon to hope, that the languages ufed by Philo-
fophers may be gradually improved in copioufnefs and in diftindl-
nefs ; arul that improvements in knowledge and in language may
go hand in hand, and faciUtate each other. But I fear the imper-
fe<5lions of language can never be perfectly remedied while our
knowledge is imperfe<5l.

However this may be, it is evident that the imperfections of
language, and much more the abufe of it, are the occafion of ma-
ny errors ; and that in many difputes which have engaged learned
men, the difference has been partly, and in fome wholly, about
the meaning of words.

Mr Locke found it neceflary to employ a fourth part of his Ef-
lay on Human Underftanding about words; their various kinds;
dieir imperfedlion and abufe, and the remedies of both ; and has

made

OF PREJUDICES, THE CAUSES OF ERROR. 66^

made many obfervations upon thefe fubjeds, well worthy of at- CHAP.VIII.
tentive perufal.

The fourth clafs of prejudices are the idola tbeatri, by which
are meant prejudices arifiiig from the fyftems or fe(5ls, in which
we have been trained, or which we have adopted.

A falfe fyftem once fixed in the mind, becomes, as it were,
the medium through which we fee objecfls : They receive a tinc-
ture from it, and appear of another colour than when ksn by a
pure light.

Upon the fame fubjedl, aPlatonift, a Peripatetic, and an Epicu-
rean, will think differently, not only in matters connedted with
his peculiar tenets, but even in things remote from them.

A judicious hiftory of the different feels of Philofophers, and
the different methods of philofophifing, which have obtained
among mankind, would be of no fmall ufe to direcl men in the
fearch of truth. In fuch a hiftory, what would be of the great-
eft moment is not fo much a minute detail of the dogmata of each
fed, as a juft delineation of the fpirit of the fed, and of that
point of view in which things appeared to its founder. This was
perfedly underftood, and, as far as concerns the theories of mo-
rals, is executed with great judgment and candour by Dr Smith.
in his Theory of moral fentiments.

As there are certain temperaments of the body that difpofe a
man more to one clafs of difeafes than to another ; and, on the
other hand, difeafes of that kind, when they happen by accident,
are apt to induce the temperament that is fuited to them ; there is
fomething analogous to this in the difeafes of the underftanding.

A certain complexion of underftanding may difpofe a man to

one

670 , E S S A Y VI.

CHAP.viiL one fyftem of opinions more than to another ; and, on the other
hand, a fyftem of opinions, fixed in the mind by education or
otherwife, gives that complexion to the underftanding which is
fuited to them.

It were to be wifhed, that the different fyftems that have pre-
vailed could be claffed according to their fpirit, as well as named
from their founders. Lord Bacon has diftinguifhed falfe philo-
fophy into the fophlftical, the empirical, and the fuperftitious, and
has made judicious obfervations upon each of thefe kinds. But I
apprehend this fubjed deferves to be treated more fully by fuch a
hand, if fuch a hand can be found.

ESSAY

671

CHAP, I.
V . ' .

ESSAY vir.

OF REASONING.

CHAP. L

Of Reafoning in general^ and of Demonjlration.

THE power of reafoning is very nearly allied to that of judging;
and it is of little confequence in the common affairs of life
to dillinguilh them nicely. On this account, the fame name is
often given to both. We include both under the name of reafon.
The affent we give to a propofition is called judgment, whether
the propofition be felf-evldent, or derive its evidence by reafoning
from other propofitions.

Yet there is a diftincftion between reafoning and judging. Rea-
foning is the proc^fs by which we pafs from one judgment to an-
other which is the confequence of it. Accordingly our judgments
are diftinguifhed into intuitive, which are not grounded upon any
preceding judgment, and difcui-five, which are deduced from fome
preceding judgment by reafoning.

In all reafoning, therefore, there muft be a propofition inferred,,
and one or more from which it is inferred. And this power of
inferring, or drawing a conclufion, is only another name for rea-
foning;

672 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. 1. fonlng; the propofition inferred being called t\\t conclufion^ and
the propofition, or propofitions from which it is inferred, the pre-

fTllfcS.

Reafoning may confift of many fteps ; the firft conclufion being
a premife to a fecond, that to a third, and fo on, till we come to
the lad conclufion. A procefs confifting of many fleps of this
kind, is fo eafily diftinguilhed from judgment, that it is never
called by that name. But when there is only a fingle (tep to the
conclufion, the diftindtion is lefs obvious, and the procefs is fome-
times called judgment, fometimes reafoning.

It is not (Irange, that, in common difcourfe, judgment and
reafoning fhould not be very nicely diftinguifhed, fince they are in
fome cafes confounded even by Logicians. We are taught in lo-
gic, that judgment is expreffed by one propofition, but that rea-
foning requires two or, three. But fo various are the modes of
fpeech, that what in one mode is exprefled by two or three propo-
fitions, may in another mode be expreflTed by one. Thus I may
fay, God is good ; therefore good men Jhall be happy. This is reafon-
ing, of that kind which Logicians call an enthymeme, confiding
of an antecedent propofition, and a conclufion drawn from it.
But this reafoning may be expreffed by one propofition, thus :
Becaufe God is good, good menjhail be happy. This is what they call
a caufal propofition, and therefore expreffes judgment ; yet the en-
thymeme which is reafoning, expreffes no more.

Reafoning, as well as judgment, mufl be true or falfe ; both are
grounded upon evidence which may be probable or demonflrative,
and both, are accompanied with alTent or belief.

The power of reafoning is juftly accounted one of the preroga-
tives of human nature ; becaufe by it many important truths have
been, and may be difcovered, which without it would be beyond
our reach ; yet it feems to be only a kind of crutch to a limited

underftanding.

OF REASONING, AND OF DEMONSTRATION. 673

underftanding. We can conceive an underftanding, fuperior to hu-
man, to which that truth appears intuitively, which wc can only dif-
cover by reafoning. For this caufe, though we mufh afcribe judg-
ment to the Almighty, we do not afcribe reafoning to him, becaufe
it implies fome defe(5l or lifliitation of underftanding. Even among
men, to ufe reafoning in things that are felf-evident, is trifling ;
like a man going upon crutches when he can walk upon his legs.

What reafoning is, can be underftood only by a man who has
reafoned, and who is capable of refleding upon this operation of
his own mind. We can define it only by fynonimous words or
phrafes, fuch as inferring, drawing a conclufion, and the like.
The very notion of reafoning, therefore, can enter into the mind
by no other channel than that of refleding upon the operation of
reafoning in our own minds ; and the notions of premifes and
conclufion, of a fyllogifm, and all its conftituent parts, of an en-
thymeme, forites, demonftration, paralogifra, and many others,
have the fame origin.

It is Nature undoubtedly that gives us the capacity of reafoning.
When this is wanting, no art nor education can fupply it. But
this capacity may be dormant through life, like the feed of a plant,
which, for want of heat and moifture, never vegetates. This is
probably the cafe of fome favages.

Although the capacity be purely the gift of Nature, and pro-
bably given in very different degrees to different perfons jyet the
power of reafoning feems to be got by habit, as much as the power
of walking or running. Its firft exertions we are not able to re-
colle6t in ovrfelves, or clearly to difcern in others. They are very
feeble, and need to be led by example, and fupported by authori-
ty. By degrees it acquires ftrength, chiefly by means of imita-
tion and exercife.

The exercife of reafoning on various fubjedls not only fl^rength-

CHAP. I.

674 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. I. ^ gj^5 ^Yie faculty, but furniflies the mind with a (lore of materials.
Every train of reafoning, which is familiar, becomes a beaten track
in the way to many others. It removes many obftacles which lay
in our way, and fmooths many roads which we may have occa-
fion to travel in future difquifitions.

When men of equal natural iparts apply their reafoning power
to any fubjedl, the man who has reafoned much on the fame, or
on fimilar fubje<f^s, has a like advantage over him who has not, as
the mechanic who has (lore of tools for his work, has of him who
has his tools to make, or even to invent.

In a train of reafoning, the evidence of every flep^ where no-
thing is left to be fupplied by the reader or hearer, muft be im-
mediately difcernible to every man of ripe underftanding who has
a diflin(5l comprehenfion of the premifes and conclufion, and who
compares them together. To be able to comprehend, in one view,
a combination of fleps of this kind, is more difficult, and feems
to require a faperior natural ability. In all, it may be much im-
proved by habit.

But the higheft talent in reafoning is the invention of proofs ;
by which, truths remote from the premifes are brought to light.
In all works of underftanding, invention has the higheft praife ; it
requires an extenfive view of what relates to the fubjecft, and a
quicknefs in difcerning thofe affinities and relations which may be
fubfervient to the purpofe.

In all invention there muft be fome end in view : And fagacity
in finding out the road that leads to this end, is, I think, what
we call invention. In this chiefly, as I apprehend, and in clear
and diftindl conceptions, confifts that fuperiority of underftand-
ing which we call genius.

In every chain of reafoning, the evidence of the laft conclufion

can

OF REASONING, AND OF DEMONSTRATION. 6ys

can be no greater than that of the weakeft link of the chain, ^t:HAP. i.^
whatever may be the flrength of the reft.

The moft remarkable diftindlion of reafonings is, that fome are
probable, others demonftrative.

In every ftep of demonftrative reafoning, the inference is necef-
fary, and we perceive it to be impoffible that the conclufipn fliould
not follow from the premifes. In probable reafoning, the connec-
tion between the premifes and the concluiion is not neceffary, nor
do we perceive it to be impoffible that the firft fliould be true while
the laft is falfe.

Hence demonftrative reafoning has no degrees, nor can one de-
monftration be ftronger than another, though, in relation to our
faculties, one may be more eafily comprehended than another.
Every demonftration gives equal ftrength to the conclufion, and
leaves no poffibility of its being falfe.

It was, 1 think, the opinion of all the ancients, that demonftra-
tive reafoning can be applied only to truths that are neceffary, and
not to thofe that are contingent. In this, I believe, they judged
right. Of all created things, the exiftence, the attributes, and con-
fequently the relations refuking from thofe attributes, are contin-
gent. They depend upon the will and power of him who made
them., Thefe are matters of fad, and admit not of demonftration.

The field of demonftrative reafoning, therefore, is the various
relations of things abftrad, that is, of things which we conceive,
without regard to their exiftence. Of thefe, as they are conceived
by the mind, and are nothing but what they are conceived to be,
we may have a clear and adequate comprehenfion. Their relations
and attributes are neceffary and immutable. They are the things
to which the Pythagoreans and Platonifts gave the name of ideas.
I would beg leave to borrow this meaning of the word idea from

Q^q q q 2 thofe

676 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. I. ^ thofe ancient Philofophers, and then I mufl agree with them, that
ideas are the only objedls about which we can reafon demonftra-
tively.

There are many even of our ideas about which we can carry on
no confiderable train of reafoning. Though they be ever fo well
defined and perfedlly comprehended, yet their agreements and dif-
agreements are few, and thefe are difcerned at once. We may go
a Hep or two in forming a conclufion with regard to fuch objedts^
but can go no farther. There are others, about which we may,
by a long train of demonftrative reafoning, arrive at conclvifions
very remote and unexpetfled.

The reafonings I have met with that can be called ftri<^ly tle-
monftrative, may, I think, be reduced to two clafles. They are
either metaphyfical, or they are mathematical.

In metaphyfical reafoning, the procefs is always ihort. The
conclufion is but a ftep or two, feldom more, from the firfl prin-
ciple or axiom on which it is grounded, and the different conclu-
fions depend not one upon another.

It is otherwife in mathematical reafoning. Here the field has
no limits. One propofition leads on to another, that to a third,
and fo on without end.

If it fhould be afked, why demonftrative reafoning has fo wide
a field in mathematics, while, in other abftradl fubjedls, it is con-
fined within very narrow limits ? I conceive this is chiefly owing
to the nature of quantity, the obje(!!l of mathematics.

Every quantity, as it has magnitude, and is divifible into parts
without end, fo, in refpe<fl of its magnitude, it has a certain ratio
to f very quantity of the kind. The ratios of quantities are innu-
merable, fuch as, a half, a third, a tenth, double, triple. All the

powers

OF REASONING, AND OF DEMONSTRATION. 677

powers of number are infufficient to exprefs the variety of ratios. CHAP^

For there are innumerable ratios which cannot be perfectly ex-

prefled by numbers, fuch as, the ratio of the fide to the diagonal

of a fquare, of the circumference of a circle to the diameter. Of

this infinite variety of ratios, every one may be clearly conceived,

and diflindly exprefied, fo as to be in no danger of being miftaken

for any other.

Extended quantities, fuch as lines, furfaces, folids, befides the
variety of relations they have in refpedl of magnitude, have no lefs
variety in refpedl of figure ; and every mathematical figure may
be accurately defined, fo as to diftinguifh it from all others.

There is nothing of this kind in other obje<5ls of abflradl reafon-
ing. Some of them have various degrees ; but thefe are not capa-
ble of meafure, nor can be faid to have an affignable ratio to others
of the kind. They are either fimple, or compounded of a few in-
divifible parts ; and therefore, if we may be allowed the expreflion,
can touch only in few points. But mathematical quantities being
made up of parts without number, can touch in innumerable,
points, and be compared in innumerable different ways.

There have been attempts made to meafure the merit of adlions-
by the ratios of the afFeflions and principles of adlion from which
they proceed. This may perhaps, in the way of analogy, ferve to
illuftrate what was before known ; but I do not think any truth
can be difcovered in this way. There are, no doubt, degrees of
•benevolence, felf-love, and other affedlions ; but, when we apply
ratios to them, I apprehend we have no diflindl meaning.

Some demonftrations are called dlredl, others indlrecl. Tiie
firft kind leads diredlly to the conclufion to be proved. Of the
indirect fome are called demonftrations ad abfurdum. In thefe the
propofition contradidory to that which is to be proved is demon-
ftrated to be falfe,. or to lead to an abfurdity ; whence it follows,

that

C78 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. I. ^ jl^at its contradictory, that is, the propofition to be proved, is true.
This inference is grounded upon an axiom in logic, That of two
contradidory propofitions, if one be falfe, the other muft be true.

Another kind of indiredl demonftration proceeds by enumerating
all the fuppofitions that can poflibly be made concerning the pro-
pofition to be proved, and then demonftrating, that all of them,
excepting that which is to be proved, are falfe ; whence it follows,
that the excepted fuppofition is true. Thus one line is proved to
be equal to another, by proving firft that it cannot be greater, and
then that it cannot be lefs : For it mufl be either greater, or lefs,
or equal ; and two of thefe fuppofitions being demonllrated to be
falfe, the third muft be true.

All thefe kinds of demonftration are ufed in mathematics, and
perhaps fome others. They have all equal ftrength. The diredl
demonftration is preferred where it can be had, for this reafon
only, as I apprehend, becaufe it is the fliorteft road to the conclu-
fion. The nature of the evidence and its ftrength is the fame in
all : Only we are condudted to it by different roads.

CHAP. II.

Whether Morality be capable of Demonjl ration.

WHAT has been faid of demonftrative reafoning may help us.
to judge of an opinion of Mr Locke, advanced in feveral
places of his Eflay j to wit, " That morality is capable of demon-
" ftration as well as mathematics."

In book 3. chap. 11. having obferved, that mixed modes, efpe-
cially thofe belonging to morality, being fuch combinations of
ideas as the mind puts together of its own choice, the fignifica-
don of their names may be perfedly and exadly defined, he adds.

Sea.

WHETHER MORALITY BE DEMONSTRABLE. 679

Sedl. 16. " Upon this ground it is that I am bold to think, that CHAP. Ii.^
" morality is capable of demonftration as well as mathematics :
" Since the precife real eflence of the things moral words (land
" for may be perfedlly known, and fo the congruity or incon-
" gruity of the things themfelves be certainly difcovered, in which
" confifts perfedl knowledge. Nor let any one objedl, That the
" names of fubftances are often to be made ufe of in morality, as
" well as thofe of modes, from which will arife obfcurity : For,
" as to fubftances, when concerned in moral difcourfes, their di-
" vers natures are not fo much enquired into as fuppofed : v. g.
" When we fay that man is fubjed to law, we mean nothing by
" man but a corporeal rational creature : What the real eflence
" or other qualities of that creature are, in this cafe, is no way
" conlidered." " *

Again, in book 4. ch. 3. § 18. " The idea of a Supreme Being,.
" whofe workmanfliip we are, and the idea of ourfelves, being
" fuch as are clear in us, would, I fuppofe, if duly confidered and
" purfued, afford fuch foundation of our duty and rules of adlioa,
" as might place morality among the fciences capable of demon-
" ftration. The relation of other modes may certainly be per-
" ceived, as well as thofe of number and extenfion ; and I cannot
*' fee why they fhould not be capable of demonftration, if due
" methods were thought on to examine or purfue their agreement
" or difagreement."

He afterwards gives as inftances two propofitions, as moral pror
pofitions of which we may be as certain as of any in mathematics ;
and confiders at- large what may have given the advantage to the
ideas of quantity, and made them. be. thought more capable of
certainty and demonftration.

Again, in the 12th chapter of the fame book, § 7, 8. " This I
" think I may fay, that if other ideas that are the real as well as
'^ nominal eflences of their feveral fpecies, were purfued in the

68o ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IL « ^gy familiar to Mathematicians, they would carry our thoughts
" farther, and with greater evidence and clearnefs, than pofiibly
" we are apt to imagine. This gave me the confidence to advance
" that conje(5ture which I fuggeft, chap. 3. viz. That morality is
" capable of demonftration as welFas mathematics."

From thefe paffages it appears, that this opinion was not a tran-
fient thought, but what he had revolved in his mind on different
occafions. He offers his reafons for it, illuflrates it by examples,
and confiders at length the caufes that have led men to think ma-
thematics more capable of demonftration than the principles of
morals.

Some of his learned correfpondents, particularly his friend
Mr MoLYNEUX, urged and importuned him to compofe a fyftem
of morals according to the idea he had advanced in his Eflay ;
and, in his anfwer to thefe folicltations, he only pleads other oc-
cupations, without fuggefting any change of his opinion, or any
great difficulty in the execution of what was defired.

The reafon he gives for this opinion is ingenious ; and his re-
gard for virtue, the higheft prerogative of the human fpecies,
made him fond of an opinion which feemed to be favourable to
virtue, and to have a juft foundation in reafon.

We need not, however, be afraid, that the intereft of virtue
may fuffer by a free and candid examination of this queftion, or
indeed of any queftion whatever. For the interefts of truth and
of virtue can never be found in oppofftion. Darknefs and error
may befriend vice, but can never be favourable to virtue.

Thofe Phllofophers who think that our determinations in morals
are not real judgments, that right and wrong in human condudl
are only certain feelings or fenfations in the perfon who contem-
plates the a(5lion, muft reje(fl Mr Locke's opinion without exami-
nation.

WHETHER MORALITY BE DEMONSTRABLE. 68i

nation. For if the principles of morals be not a matter of judg- CHAP. II.
'ment, but of feeling only, there can be no demonftration of them ;
nor can any other reafon be given for them, but that men are fo
conftituted by the Avithor of their being, as to contemplate with
pleafure the a<5lions we call virtuous, and with difgufl thofe we
call vicious.

It is not therefore to be expeded, that the Philofophers of this
clafs Ihould think this opinion of Mr Locke worthy of examina-
tion, fince it is founded upon what they think a falfe hypothefis.
But if our determinations in morality be real judgments, and, like
all other judgments, be either true or falfe, it is not unimportant
to underftand upon what kind of- evidence thofe judgments reft.

The argument offered by Mr Locke, to fliowthat morality is
capable of demonftration, is, ** That the precife real effence of
" the things moral words ftand for, may be perfedlly known, and
" fo the congruity or incongruity of the things themfelves be per-
" fedlly difcovered, in which confifts perfedl knowledge."

It is true, that the field of demonftration is the various relations
of things conceived abftradtly, of which we may have perfedl and
adequate conceptions. And Mr Locke, taking all the things
which moral words ftand for to be of this kind, concluded that
morality is as capable of demonftration as mathematics.

I acknowledge, that the names of the virtues and vices, of right
and obligation, of liberty and property, ftand for things abftra(5l,
which may be accurately defined, or, at leaft, conceived as di-
ftindlly and adequately as mathematical quantities. And thence
indeed it follows, that their mutual relations may be perceived as
clearly and certainly as mathematical truths.

Of this Mr Locke gives two pertinent examples : The firft,

R r r r " where

682 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. 11.^ " where there is no property, there is no injuftice, is, fays he, a
" propofition as certain as any demonftration in Euclid."

When injuftice is defined to be a violation of property, it is as
neceffary a truth, that there can be no injuftice where there is no
property, as that you cannot take from a man that which he has
not.

The fecond example is, " That no government allows abfolute
" liberty." This is a truth no lefs certain and neceflary.

Such abft:ra<Sl truths I would call metaphyfical rather than mo-
ral. We give the name of mathematical, to truths that exprefs the re-
lations of quantities confidered abrtra<5lly ; all other abftradl truths
may be called metaphyfical. But if thofe mentioned by Mr Locke
are to be called moral truths, I agree with him that there are ma-
ny fuch that are necefTarily true, and that have all the evidence
that mathematical truths can have.

It ought however to be remembered, that, as was before obfer-
ved, the relations of things abftrad^, perceivable by us, excepting
thofe of mathematical quantities, are few, and for the mofl: part
immediately difcerned, fo as not to require that train of reafoning
which we call demonftration. Their evidence refembles more that
of mathematical axioms than mathematical propofitions.

This appears in the two propofitions given as examples by Mr
Locke. The firft follows immediately from the definition of in-
juftice ; the fecond from the definition of government. Their evi-
dence may more properly be called intuitive than demonftrative :
And this I apprehend to be the cafe, or nearly the cafe of all ab-
ftracfl truths that are. not mathematical, for the reafon given in the
laft chapter.

The propofitions which I think are properly called moral, are

thofe

WHETHER MORALITY BE DEMONSTRABLE. 683

thofe that afErm fome moral obligation to be, or not to be Incum- CHAP. n.
bent on one or more individual perfons. To fuch propofitions Mr ''~'^' '
Locke's reafoning does not apply, becaufe the fubjeds of the pro-
pofition are not things whofe real eflence may be perfedlly known.
They are the creatures of God ; their obligation refults from the
conftitution which God hath given them, and the circumftances
in which he hath placed them. That an individual hath fuch a
conftitution, and is placed in fuch circumftances, is not an abftrad
and necefTary, but a contingent truth. It is a matter of fad, and'
therefore not capable of demonftrative evidence, which belongs
only to neceflary truths.

The evidence which every man hath of his own exiftence, though
it be irrefiftible, is not demonftrative. And the fame thing may
be faid of the evidence which every man hath, that he is a moral
agent, and under certain moral obligations. In like manner, the
evidence we have of the exiftence of other men is not demonftra-
tive ; nor is the evidence we have of their being endowed with
thofe faculties which make them moral and accountable agents.

If man had not the faculty given him by God of perceiving
certain things in condu(5l to be right, and others to be wrong, and
of perceiving his obligation to do what is right, and not to do
what is wrong, he would not be a moral and accountable being.

If man be endowed with fuch a faculty, there muft be fome,
things, which, by this faculty, are immediately difcerned to be
right, and others to be wrong ; and therefore there muft be in mo-
rals, as in other fciences, iirft principles, which do not derive their
evidence from any antecedent principles, but may be faid to be
intuitively difcerned.

Moral truths, therefore, may be divided into two clafles, to wit,
fuch as are felf-evident to every man whofe underftanding and mo-
ral faculty are ripe, and fuch as are deduced by reafoning from

R r r r 2 thofe

684 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. 11.^ thoCe that are felf- evident. If the firft be not difcerned without
reafoning, the laft never can be fo by any reafoning.

If any man could fay with fincerity, that he is confcious of no
obligation to confult his own prefent and future happinefs ; to be
faithful to his engagements ; to obey his Maker ; to injure no man ;.
I know not what reafoning, either probable or demonftrative, I
could ufe to convince him of any moral duty. As you cannot rea-
fon in mathematics with a man who denies the axioms, as little
can you reafon with a man in morals who denies the firfl prin-
ciples of morals. The man who does not, by the light, of his.
own mind, perceive fome things in condudl to be right, and others
to be wrong, is as incapable of reafoning about morals as a blind
man is about colours. Such a man, if any fuch man ever was,
would be no moral agent, nor capable of any moral, obligation.

Some firft principles of morals muft be immediately difcerned,.
otherwife we have no foundation on which others can reft, or:
from which we can reafon.

Every man knows certainly, that, what he approves in other
men he ought to do in like circumftances, and that he ought not
to do what he condemns in other men. Every man knotvs that
he ought, with candour, to ufe the beft means of knowing hia
duty. To every man who has a confcience, thefe things are felf-
evident. They are immediate didlates of our moral faculty, which
is a part of the human conftitution ; and every man condemns
himfelf, whether he will or not, when he knowingly adls contrary
to them. The evidence of thefe fundamental principles of morals,
and of others that might be named, appears therefore to me to be
intuitive rather than demonftrative.

The man who a<5ls according to the didlates of his confcience,
and takes due pains to be rightly informed of his duty, is a per-
fe(5l man with regard to morals, and merits no blame, whatever

may

WHETHER MORALITY BE DEMONSTRABLE. 685

may be the imperfections or errors, of his underflanding. He GHAP. IL
who knowingly a€ls contrary to them is confcious of guilt, and felf-
eondemned. Every particular a(5lion that falls evidently within
the fundamental rules of morals is evidently his duty ; and it re-
quires no reafoning to convince him that it is fo.

Thus I think it appears, that every man of common under-
flanding knows certainly, and without reafoning, the ultimate
ends he ought to purfue, and that reafoning is neceffary only to
difcover the moft proper means of attaining them ;, and in this,
indeed, a good man may often be in doubt.

Thus, a Magiftrate knows that it is his duty to promote the
good of the community which hath entrufled him with authori-
ty ; and to offer to prove this to him by reafoning would be to
affront him. But whether fuch a fcheme of condud in his office,
or another, may befl ferve that end, he may in many cafes be
doubtful. I believe, in fuch cafes, he can very rarely have de-
monflrative evidence. His confcience determines^ the end he
ought to purfue, and he has intuitive evidence that his end is
good ; but prudence muft determine the means of attaining that
end ; and prudence can very rarely ufe demonflrative reafoning^
but mufl reft in what appears moft probable.

I apprehend, that in every kind of duty we owe to God or-
man, the cafe is fimilar ; that is. That the obligation of the moft
general rules of duty is felf-evident ; that the application of thofe
rules to particular anions is often no lefs evident ; and that, when
it is not evident, but requires reafoning, that reafoning can very
rarely be of the demonftrative, but muft be of the probable kind.
Sometimes it depends upon the temper and talents and circum-
ftances of the man himfelf; fometimes upon the charader and
circumftances of others; fometimes upon both; and thefe are
things which admit not of demonftration.

Everv

686 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. ir. Every man is bound to employ the talents which God hath
given him to the bed purpofe ; but if, through accidents which
he could not forefee, or ignorance which was invincible, they be
lefs vifefully employed than they might have been, this will not
be imputed to him by his righteous Judge.

It is a common and a juft obfervation, that the man of virtue
plays a furer game in order to obtain his end than the man of the
world. It is not, however, becaufe he reafons better concerning the
means of attaining his end ; for the children of this world are
often wifer in their generation than the children of light. But
the reafon of the obfervation is, that involuntary errors, unfore-
feen accidents, and invincible ignorance, which afFe<5l deeply all
the concerns of the prefent world, have no efFedl upon virtue or
its reward.

In the common occurrences of life, a man of integrity, who
hath exercifed his moral faculty in judging what is right and what
is wrong, fees his duty without reafoning, as he fees the high
way. The cafes that require reafoning are few, compared with
thofe that require none ; and a man may be very honeft and vir-
tuous who cannot reafon, and who knows not what demonftra-
tion means.

The power of reafoning, in thofe that have it, may be abufed
in morals, as in other matters. To a man who ufes it with an
upright heart, and a (ingle eye to find what is his duty, it will
be of great ufe ; but when it is ufed to juftify what a man has a
llrong inclination to do, it will only ferve to deceive himfelf and
others. When a man can reafon, his paffions will reafon, and
they are the moft cunning fophifts we meet with.

If the rules of virtue were left to be difcovered by demonflrative
reafoning, or by reafoning of any kind, fad would be the condition
of the far greater part of men, who have not the means of culti-
vating

WHETHER MORALITY BE DEMONSTRABLE. 687

vating the power of reafbning. As virtue is the bufinefs of all CHAP, ir.
men, the firfl: principles of it are written in their hearts, in cha-
racSlers fo legible, that no man can pretend ignorance of them, or
of his obligation to pradife them.

Some knowledge of duty and of moral obligation is neceflary
to all men. Without it they could not be moral and accountable
creatures, nor capable of being members of civil fociety. It may
therefore be prefumed, that Nature has put this knowledge within
the reach of all men. Reafoning and demonftration are weapons
which the greateft part of mankind never was able to wield. The
knowledge that is neceflary to all, mufl be attainable by all. We
fee it is fo in what pertains to the natural life of man.

Some knowledge of things that are ufeful, and things that are
hurtful, is fo neceflary to all men, that without it the fpecies would
foon perifli. But it is not by reafoning that this knowledge is got,
far lefs by demonftrative reafoning. It is by our fenfes, by me-
mory, by experience,, by information ; means of knowledge that
are open to all men, and put the learned and the unlearned, thofe
who can reafon and thofe who cannot, upon a level.

It may, therefore, be expeded from the analogy of nature^that
fuch a knowledge of morals as is neceflary to all men, flaould be
had by means more fuited to the abilities of all men than demons
ftrative reafoning is..

This, I apprehend, is in facl the cafe. When mens faculties are
ripe, the firft principles of morals, into which all moral reafoning
may be refolved, are perceived intuitively, and in a manner more
analogous to the perceptions of fenfe than to the conclufions of de-
monftrative reafoning.

Upon the whole, I agree with Mr Locke, that propofirions ex-
prefling the congruities and incongruities of things abftra<fi:, which

moral

6S8 ESSAY VII.

CHAP, ir.^ moral words (land for, may have all the evidence of mathematical
truths. But this is not peculiar to things which moral words ftand
for. It is common to abftra(5l proportions of every kind. For in-
flance, you cannot take from a man what he has not. A man
cannot be bound and perfedly free at the fame time. I think no
man will call thefe moral truths, but they are necefTary truths, and
as evident as any in mathematics. Indeed, they are very nearly
allied to the two which Mr Locke gives as inftances of moral
propofitions capable of demonftration. Of fuch abftra<fl propofi-
tions, I think it may more properly be faid, that they have the evi-
dence of mathematical axioms, than that they are capable of demon-
ftration.

There are propofitions of another kind, which alone deferve the
name of moral propofitions. They are fuch as affirm fomething
to be the duty of perfons that really exift. Thefe are not abftradl
propofitions; and therefore Mr Locke's reafoning does not apply
to them. The truth of all fuch propofitions depends upon the
conftitution and circumftances of the perfons to whom they are
applied.

Of fuch propofitions, there are fome that are felf-evident to eve-
ry man that has a confcience ; and thefe are the principles from
which all moral reafoning mufl be drawn. They may be called
the axioms of morals. But our reafoning from thefe axioms to
any duty that is not felf-evident, can very rarely be demonftra-
tive. Nor is this any detriment to the caufe of virtue, becaufe to
adl againft what appears moft probable in a matter of duty, is as
real a trefpafs againft the firft principles of morality, as to adl
againft demonftration ; and becaufe he who has but one talent in
reafoning, and makes the proper ufe of it, fhall be accepted, as
well as he to whom God has given ten.

CHAP.

OF PROBABLE REASONING. 689

CHAP. III.
» , ,

CHAP. III.

Of probable Reafonhig.

THE field of demonftration, as has been obferved, is neceflary
truth ; the field of probable reafoning is contingent truth,
not what neceflarily muft be at all times, but what is, or was, or
fliall be.

No contingent truth is capable of ftridl demonftration ; but ne-
ceflary truths may fometimes have probable evidence.

Dr Wallis difcovered many important mathematical truths,
by that kind of indu«Slion which draws a general conclufion from
particular premifes. This is not ftridl demonftration, but, in fome
cafes, gives as full convidlion as demonftration itfelf ; and a man
may be certain, that a truth is demonftrable before it ever has been
demonftrated. In other cafes, a mathematical propofition may have
fuch probable evidence from indudlion or analogy, as encourages
the Mathematician to inveftigate its demonftration. But ftill the
reafoning proper to mathematical and other neceffary truths, is de-
monftration ; and that which is proper to contingent truths, is
probable reafoning.

Thefe two kinds of reafoning diflEer in other refpe<fts. In de-
monftrative reafoning, one argument is as good as a thoufand.
One demonftration may be more elegant than another ; it may be
more eafily comprehended, or it may be more fubfervient to fome
purpofe beyond the prefent. On any of thefe accounts it may de-
ferve a preference : But then it is fufficient by itfelf; it needs no
aid from another ; it can receive none. To add more demonftra-
tions of the fame conclufion, would be a kind of tautology in rea-

S f f f foning ;

690 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. III. foiling; becaufe one demonftration, clearly comprehended, gives
all the evidence we are capable of receiving.

The ftrength of probable reafoning, for the mod part, depends
not upon any one argunaent, but upon many, which unite their
force, and lead to the fame conclufion. Any one of them by
itfelf would be infufEcient to convince ; but the whole taken toge-
ther may have a force that is irrefiftlble, fo that to defire more
evidence would be abfurd. Would any man feek new arguments
to prove that there were fuch perfons as King Charjles the Firft,
or Oliver Cromwell ?

Such evidence may be compared to a rope made op of many
flender filaments twiftcd together. The rope has ftrength more
than fufficient to bear the ftrefs laid upon it, though no one of
the filaments of which it is compofed would be fufficient for that
purpofe.

It is a common obfervation, that it is unreafonable to require
demonftration for things which do not admit of it. It is no lefs
unreafonable to require reafoning of any kind for things which are
known without reafoning. All reafoning nxuft be grounded upon
truths which are known without reafoning. In every branch of
real knowledge there muft be firft principles whofe truth is known
intuitively, without reafoning, either probable or demonftrative.
They arc not grounded on reafoning, but all reafoning is grounded
on them. It has been fliown, that there are firft principles of ne-
cefTary truths, and firft principles of contingent truths. Demon-
ftrative reafoning is grounded upon the former, and probable rea-
foning upon the latter.

That we may not be embarrafled by the ambiguity of words.
It is proper to obferve, that there is a popular meaning of probable
evidence^ which ought not to be confounded with the philofophi-
cal meaning, above explained.

In

OF PROBABLE REASONING. 691

In common language, probable evidence is confidered as an in- CHA^P, in.
ferior degree of evidence, and is oppofed to certainty : So that
what is certain is more than probable, and what is only probable
is not certain. Philofophers coniider probable evidence, not as a
degree, but as a fpecies of evidence which is oppofed, not to certain-
ty, but to another fpecies of evidence called demonftration.

Demonftrative evidence has no degrees ; but probable evidence,
taken in the philofophical fenfe, has all degrees, from the very leaft,
to the greatefl which we call certainty.

That there is fuch a city as Rome, I am as certain as of any propo«
fition in Euclid ; but the evidence is not demonftrative, but of that
kind which Philofophers call probable. Yet, in common language,
it would found oddly to fay, it is probable there is fuch a city as
Rome, becaufe it would imply fome degree of doubt or uncertainty.

Taking probable evidence, therefore, in the philofophical fenfe,
as it is oppofed to demonftrative, it may have any degrees of evi-
dence, from the leaft to the greateft.

I think, in moft cafes, we meafure the degrees of evidence by
the effedl they have upon a found underftanding, when compre-
hended clearly and without prejudice. Every degree of evidence
perceived by the mind, produces a proportioned degree of aftent
or belief. The judgment may be in perfedt fufpenfe between two
contradidlory opinions, when there is no evidence for eithei", or
equal evidence for both. The leaft preponderancy on one fide in-
clines the judgment in proportion. Belief is mixed with doubt,
more or lefs, until we come to the higheft degree of evidence, when
all doubt vanillies, and the belief is firm and immoveable. This
degree of evidence, the higheft the human faculties can attain, we
call certainty.

Probable evidence not only differs in kind from demonftrative,

Sfffa. but

692 ESSAY VTI.

CHAT. III. but is Itfelf of different kinds. The chief of thefe I (hall mention,
without pretending to make a complete enumeration.

The firfl kind is that of hwnan teftimony, upon which the
greateft part of human knowledge is built.
\

The faith of hiftory depends upon it, as well as the judgment of
folemn tribunals, with regard to mens acquired rights, and with
regard to their guilt or innocence when they are charged with
crimes. A great part of the bufmefs of the Judge, of Counfgl at
the bar, of the Hiftorian, the Critic, and the Antiquarian, is to
canvafs and weigh this kind of evidence ; and no man can ad with
common prudence in the ordinary occurrences of life, who has
not fome competent judgment of it.

The belief we give to teftimony in many cafes is not folely
grounded upon the veracity of the teftifier. In a fingle teftimony,
we confider the motives a man might have to falfify. If there be
no appearance of any fuch motive, much more if there be motives
on the other fide, his teftimony has weight independent of his mo-
ral charadler. If the teftimony be circumftantial, we confider
how far the circumftances agree together, and with things that are
-known. It is fo very difficult to fabricate a ftory, which cannot
be detedled by a judicious examination of the circumftances, that
it acquires evidence, by being able to bear fuch a trial. There is
an art in detecfling falfe evidence in judicial proceedings, well
known to able judges and barrifters ; fo that I believe few fal£e
witnefTes leave the bar without fufpicion of their guile.

When there is an agreement of many witnefTes, in a great va-
riety of circumftances, without the pofhbility of a previous con-
cert, the evidence may be equal to that of demonftration,

A fecond kind of probable evidence, is the authority of thofe
who are good judges of the point in queftion. The fupreme court

of

OF PROBABLE REASONING.

^93

of judicature of the BrltHli nation, is often determined by the opi- chap. hi.
nion of lawyers in a point of law, of phyficians in a point of me- ' " '
dicine, and of other artifts, in what relates to their feveral profef-
fions. And, in the common affairs of life, we frequently rely up-
on the judgment of others, in points of which, we are not proper
judges ourfelves.

A third kind of probable evidence, is that by which we recog-
nife the identity of things, and perfons of our acquaintance : That
two fwords, two horfes, or two perfons, may be fo perfedly alike,
as not to be diftinguifliable by thofe to whom they are beft known,
cannot be Ihown to be impoffible. But we learn either from na-
ture, or from experience, that it never happens ; or fo very rarely,
that a perfon or thing, well known to us, is immediately recogni-
fed without any doubt, when we perceive the marks or (igns by
which we were in ufe to diflinguifli it from all other individuals
of the kind*

This evidence we rely upon in the mod important affairs of
life ; and, by this evidence, the identity, both of things and of
perfons, is determined in courts of judicature.

A fourth kind of probable evidence, is that which we have of
mens future adions and condud, from the general principles of
adlion in man, or from our knowledge of the individuals.

Notwlthftanding. the folly and vice that is to he found among
men, there is a certain degree of prudence and probity which we
rely upon in every man that is not infane. If it were not fo, no
man would be fafe in the company of another, and there cou^d be
no foeiety among mankind. If men were as much difpofed to
hurt as to do good, to lie as to fpeak truth, they could not live to-
gether ; they would keep at as great diftance from one another as
poffible, and the race would foon periih.

We

694 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IIL -y^g expedl that men will take fome care of themfelves, of their
family, friends, and reputation: That they will not injure others
without fome temptation : That they will have fome gratitude for
good offices, and fome refentment of injuries.

5uch maxims with regard to human conducfl are the foundation
of all political reafoning, and of common prudence in the conduct
of life. Hardly can a man form any projed in public or in pri-
vate life, which does not depend upon the conducfl of other men,
as well as his own, and which does not go upon the fuppofition
that men will a(5l fuch a part in fuch circumftances. This evidence
may be probable in a very high degree, but can never be demon-
flrative. The befl concerted proje<5l may fail, and wife counfels
may be fruflrated, becaufe fome individual aded a part which it
would have been againft all reafon to expedl.

Another kind of probable evidence, the counterpart of the lad,
is that by which we colleft mens charadlers and defigns from their
adlions, fpeech, and other external figns.

We fee not mens hearts, nor the principles by which they are
a(5luated ; but there are external figns of their principles and difpo-
•fitions, which, though not certain, may fometimes be more trufled
than their profeflions ; and it is from external figns that we mud
^raw all the knowledge we can attain of mens charadlers.

The next kind of probable evidence I mention, is that which
Mathematicians call the probability pf chances.

We attribute fome events to chance, becaufe we know only the
remote caufe which muft produce fome one event of a number;
but know not the more immediate caufe which determines a parti-
culai* event of that number in .preference to the others.

I

OFPROBABLEREASONING. 695

I think all the chances about which we reafon in mathematics CHAP. in.
are of this kind. Thus, in throwing a jufl die upon a table, we
fay it is an equal chance which of the fix fides fhall be turned up;
becaufe neither the perfon who throws, nor the byftanders know
the precife meafure of force and diredlion neceflary to turn up any
one fide rather than another. There are here therefore fix events,
one of which muft happen ; and as all are fuppofed to have equal
probability, the probability of any one fide being turned up, the.
ace, for inftance, is as one to the remaining number five.

The probability of turning up two aces with two dice is as one
to thirty-five; becaufe here there are thirty -fix events, each of
which has equal probability.

Upon fuch principles as thefe, the dodlrine of chances has fur-
nifhed a field of demonftrative reafoning of great extent, although
the events about which this reafoning is employed be not necefla-
ry, but contingent, and be not certain, but probable.

This may feem to contradidl a principle before advanced, that
contingent truths are not capable of demonflration ; but it does
not : For, in the mathematical reafonings about chance, the con-
clufion demonftrated, is not, that fuch an event fhall happen, but
that the probability of its happening bears fuch a ratio to the pro-
bability of its failing ; and this conclufion is necefi!ary upoa the
fuppofitions on which it is grounded.

The lad kind of probable evidence T Ihall mention,, is that by
which the known laws of Nature have been difcovered, and the
effedls which have been produced by them in former ages, or
which may be expetfled in time to come.

The laws of Nature are the rules by which the Supreme Being
governs the world. We deduce them only from fadls that fall
within our own obfervation, or are properly attefted by thofe who
have obferved them.

The

696 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IH. Yhe knowledge of fome of the laws of Nature is neceflary to
all men in the condudl of life. Thefe are foon difcovered even by
favages. They know that fire burns, that water drowns, that bo-
dies gravitate towards the earth. They know that day and night,
fummer and winter, regularly fucceed each other. As far back as
their experience and information reach, they know that thefe have
happened regularly ; and, upon this ground, they are led, by the
conflitution of human nature, to expedl that they will happen in
time to come, in like circumftances.

The knowledge which the Philofopher attains of the laws of
Nature differs from that of the vulgar, not in the firfl principles
on which it is grounded, but in its extent and accuracy. He col-
leds with care the phaenomena that lead to the fame conclufion,
and compares them with thofe that feem to contradict or to limit
it. He obferves the circumftances on which every phasnomenon
depends, and diftinguiflies them carefully from thofe that are ac-
cidentally conjoined with it. He puts natural bodies in various
fituations, and apf)lies them to one another in various ways, on
purpofe to obferve.the effedl ; and thus acquires from his fenfes a
more extenfive knowledge of the courfe of Nature in a fhort time,
than could be colleded by cafual obfervation in many ages. '

But what is the refult of his laborious refearches ? It is, that,
as far as he has been able to obferve, fuch things have always hap-
pened in fuch circumftances, and fuch bodies have always been
found to have fuch properties. Thefe are matters of fadl, attefted
by fenfe, memory and teftlmony, juft as the few fads which the
vulgar know are attefted to them.

And what conclufions does the Philofopher draw from the fads
he has colleded ? They are, that like events have happened in for-
mer times in like circumftances, and will happen in time to come j
and thefe conclufions are built on the very fame ground on which
the fimple ruftic concludes that the fun will rife to-morrow.

Fads

OF PROBABLE REASONING. 697

Fadls reduced to general rules, and the confequences of thofe CHAP. iiL
general rules, are all that we really know of the material world.
And the evidence that fuch general rules have no exceptions, as
well as the evidence that they will be the fame in time to come
as they have been in time part, can never be demonftrative. It is
only that fpecies of evidence which Philofophers call probable.
General rules may have exceptions or limitations which no man
ever had occafion to obferve. The laws of Nature may be changed
by him who eftablilhed them. But we are led by our conftitu-
tion to rely upon their continuance with as little doubt as if it
was demonftrable.

I pretend not t!o have made a complete enumeration of all the
kinds of probable evidence ; but thofe I have mentioned are fuffi-
cient to fhow, that the far greateft part, and the mod interefting
part of our knowledge, muft reft upon evidence of this kind ;
and that many things are certain for which we have only that
kind of evidence which Philofophers call probable.

CHAP. IV.

Of Mr Hume's Scept'ic'ifm with regard to Reafon.

IN the Treatife of Human Nature, book i. part 4. fed. i. the
author undertakes to prove two points : Firjl^ That all that is
called human knowledge (meaning demonftrative knowledge) is
only probability ; and, fecondly^ That this probability, when duly
examined, evanifhes by degrees, and leaves at laft no evidence at
all : So that, in the iffue, there is no ground to believe any one
propofition rather than its contrary, and " all thofe are certainly
" fools who reafon or believe any thing."

T t 1 1 According

698 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IV. According to this account, reafon, that boafted prerogative of
man, and the light of his mind, is an ignis fatuus^ which mifleads
the wandering traveller, and leaves him at laft in abfolute darknefs.

How unhappy is the condition of man, born under a neceflity
of believing contradidlions, and of trailing to a guide who con-
feffes herfelf to be a falfe one !

It is fome comfort, that this do(5lrine can never be ferioufly
adopted by any man in his fenfes. And after this author had
fliown that " all the rules of logic require a total extin<flion of all
" belief and evidence," he himfelf, and all men that are not in-
fane, muft have believed many things, and yielded aflent to the
evidence which he had extinguifhed.

This indeed he is fo candid as to acknowledge. " He finds
" himfelf abfolutely and neceffarily determined, to live and talk
*' and adl like other people in the common affairs of life. And
" fince reafon is incapable of difpelling thefe clouds, moft fortu-
*' nately it happens, that Nature herfelf fufEces to that purpofe,
" and cures him of this philofophical melancholy and delirium."
See fed. 7;

This was furely a very kind and friendly interpofition of Na-
ture ; for the effe(5ls of this philofophical delirium, if carried into
life, muft have been very melancholy.

But what pity is it, that Nature (whatever is meant by that per-
ibnage), fo kind in curing this delirium, fhould be fo cruel as to
caufe it. Doth the fame fountain fend forth fweet waters and bit-
ter ? Is it not more probable, that if the cure was the work of
Nature, the difeafe came from another hand, and was the work of
the Philofopher ?

To pretend to prove by reafoning that there is no force in reafon,

does

OF Mr HUME'S SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON. 699

does indeed look like a philofophical delirium. It is like a man's CHAP. iv.
pretending to fee clearly, that he himfelf and all other men are
blind.

A common fymptom of delirium is, to think that all other men
are fools or mad. This appears to have been the cafe of our au-
thor, who concluded, " That all thofe are certainly fools who rea-
" fon or believe any thing."

Whatever was the caufe of this delirium, it muft be granted,
that if it was real and not feigned, it was not to be cured by rea-
foning : For what can be more abfurd than to attempt to convince
a man by reafoning who difowns the authority of reafon. * It
was therefore very fortunate that Nature found other means of
curing it. '

It may, however, not be improper to enquire, whether, as the
author thinks, it was produced by a juft application of the rules
of logic, or, as others may be apt to think, by the mifapplication
and abufe of them. ^

jFzVy?, Becaufe we are fallible, the author infers that all know-
ledge degenerates into probability.

That man, and probably every created being, is fallible ; and
that a fallible being cannot have that perfe<5l comprehenfion and
afTurance of truth which an infallible being has, I, think ought to
be granted. It becomes a fallible being to be modeft, open to
new light, and fenfible, that by fome falfe bias, or by rafh judging,
he may be mifled. If this be called a degree of fcepticifm, I can-
not help approving of it, being perfuaded, that the man who
makes the beft ufe he can of the faculties which God has given
him, without thinking them more perfed than they really are,
may have all the belief that is neceflary in the conducfl of life,
and all that is neceflary to his acceptance with his Maker.

T 1 1 1 2 It

700 ^ ESSAY VII.

CHAP, iv.^ It ig granted then, that human judgments ought always to be
formed with an humble fenfe of our fallibility in judging.

This is all that can be inferred by the rules of logic from our
being fallible. And if this be all that is meant by our knowledge
degenerating into probability, I know no perfon of a different
opinion.

But it may be obferved, that the author here ufes the word pro-
bability in a fenfe for which I know no authority but his own.
rhilofophers underftand probability as oppofed to demonftration ;
the vulgar as oppofed to certainty ; but this author underftands it
as oppofed to infallibility, which no man claims.

One who believes himfelf to be fallible may ftill hold it to be
certain that two and two make four, and that two contradicflory
propofitions cannot both be true. He may believe fome things to
be probable only, and other things to be demonftrable, without
making any pretence to infallibility.

If we ufe words in their proper meaning, it is impoflible that
demonftration fhould degenerate into probability from the imper-
fedlion of our faculties. Our judgment cannot change the nature
of the things about which we judge. What is really demonftra-
tion, will ftill be fo, whatever judgment we form concerning it.
It may likewife be obferved, that when we miftake that for demon-
ftration, which really is not, the confequence of this miftake is,
not that demonftration degenerates into probability, but that what
we took to be demonftration is no proof at all ; for one falfe ftep
in a demonftration deftroys the whole, but cannot turn it into an-
other kind of proof.

Upon the whole, then, this jfirft conclufion of our author,
That the fallibility of human judgment turns all knowledge into
probability, if underftood literally, is abfurd ; but if it be only a

jfigure

OF Mr HUME'S SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON. 701

figure of fpeech, and means no more, but that, in all our judg- CHAP. IV.
ments, we ought to be fenfible of our fallibility, and ought to hold
our opinions with that modefty that becomes fallible creatures,
which I take to be what the author meant, this, I think, nobody
denies, nor was it neceflary to enter into a laborious proof of it.

One is never in greater danger of tranfgreffing againfl: the rules
of logic, than in attempting to prove what needs no proof. Of
this we have an inftance in this. very cafe : For the author begins
his proof, that all human judgments are fallible, with affirming
that fome are infallible.

" In all demonftrative fciences, fays he, the rules are certain
" and infallible ; but when we apply them, our fallible and un-
" certain faculties are very apt to depart from them, and fall into
" error."

He had forgot, furely, that the rules of demonftrative fciences
are difcovered by our fallible and uncertain faculties, and have no
authority but that of human judgment. If they be infallible,
fome human judgments are infallible; and there are many in va-
rious branches of human knowledge which have as good a claim
to infallibility as the rules of the demonftrative fciences.

We have reafon here to find fault with our author for not being
fceptical enough, as well as for a miftake in reafoning, when he
claims infallibility to certain decifions of the human faculties, in
order to prove that all their decifions are fallible.

T\\Qfecond point which he attempts to prove, is. That this pro-
bability, when duly examined, fufiers a continual diminution,
and at laft a total extindlion.

The obvious confequence of this is, that no fallible being can have
eood reafon to believe any thing at all ; but let us hear the proof.
^ "In

702 • ESSAY VII.

CHAP^^rv^ « In every judgment, we ought to correal the firft jadgmenc
'* derived from the nature of the objed:, by another judgment de-
" rived from the nature of the underftanding. Befide the origi-
" nal uncertainty inherent in the fubjed, there arifes another, de-
rived from the weaknefs of the faculty which judges. . Having
adjufted thefe two uncertainties together, we are obliged, by our
reafon, to add a new uncertainty, derived from the pofllbility of
error in the eftimation we make of the truth and fideUty of our
" faculties. This is a doubt, of which, if we would clofcly pur-
" fue our reafoning, we cannot avoid giving a decilion. But this
decifion, though it fhould be favourable to our preceding judg-
ment, being founded only on probability, mufl: weaken ftill
" farther our firft evidence. The third uncertainty mufl: in like
" manner be criticifed by a fourth, and fo on without end.

«

(C

({

" Now, as every one of thefe uncertainties takes away a part of
the original evidence, it muft at laft be reduced to nothing. Let
" our firfl belief be ever fo fti'Ong, it muft infallibly perilh, by
" paffihg through fo many examinations, each of which carries
" off fomewhat of its force and vigour. No finite objedl can fub-
" fift under a decreafe repeated in injinitmi,

" When I refledl on the natural fallibility of my judgment, I

" have lefs confidence in my opinions, than when I only confider

" the objedls concerning which I reafon. And when I proceed

" ftill farther, to turn the fcrutiny againft every fucceffive eftima-

" tion I make of my faculties, all the rules of logic require a con-

" tinual diminution, and at laft a total extin(5lion of belief and

" evidence."

This is the author's Achillean argument againft the evidence of
reafon, from which he concludes, that a man who would govern
his belief by reafon, muft believe nothing at all, and that belief
is an ad, not of the cogitative, but of the fenfitive part of our
nature.

If

OF Mr HUME'S SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON. yo-.

If there be any fuch thing as motion, (fald an ancient Sceptic) CHAP. iv.
the fwift-footed Achilles could never overtake an old man in a.
journey. For, fuppofe the old man to fet out a thoufand paces be-
fore Achilles, and that while Achilles has travelled the thou-
fand paces, the old man has gone five hundred; when Achilles
has gone the five hundred, the old man has gone two hundred and
fifty; and when Achilles has gone the two hundred and fifty,
the old man is ftill one hundred and twenty-five before him. Re-
peat thefe eftimations in infinitum^ and you will flill find the old
man foremoft ; therefore Achilles can never overtake him ; there-
fore there can be no fuch thing as motion.

The reafoning of the modern Sceptic againfl reafon is equally
ingenious, and equally convincing. Indeed, they have a great fi-
milarity.

If we trace the journey of Achilles two thoufand paces, we
fhall find the very point where the old man is overtaken : But this
fliort journey, by dividing it into an infinite number of ftages,
with correfponding eftimations, is made to appear infinite. In
like manner, our author, fubjedling every judgment to an infinite
number of fucceflive probable eftimations, reduces the evidence to
nothing.

To return then to the argument of the modern Sceptic. I exa-
mine the proof of a theorem of Euclid. It appears to me to be
ftriifl demonftration. But I may have overlooked fome fallacy ;
therefore I examine it again and again, but can find no flaw in it.
I find all that have examined it agree with me. I have now that
evidence of the truth of the propofition, which I and all men call
demonftration, and that belief of it, which we call certainty.

Here my fceptical friend interpofes, and aflures me, that the
rules of logic reduce this demonftration to no evidence at all. I
am willing to hear what ftep in it he thinks fallacious, and why.

He

704 E S S A Y VII.

CHAP- IV- He makes no objedllon to any. pare of the demonftration, but
pleads my fallibilty in judging. I have made the proper allow-
ance for this already, by being open to convi(5tion. But, fays he,
there are two uncertainties, the firft inhei'ent in the fubject, which
I have already fliown to have only probable evidence ; the fecond
arifing from the weaknefs of the faculty that judges. I anfwei', It
is the weaknefs of the faculty only that reduces this demonftration
to what you call probability. You muft not therefore make it a
fecond uncertainty ; for it is the fame with the firft. To take cre-
dit twice in an account for the fame article is not agreeable to the
rules of logic. Hitherto therefore there is but one uncertainty, to
wit, my fallibility in judging.

But, fays my friend, you are obliged by reafon to add a new
uncertainty, derived from the poffibility of error in the eflimation
you make of the truth and fidelity of your faculties. I anfwer,

This eflimation is ambiguoufly expreffed j it may either mean
an eflimation of my liablenefs to err by the mifapplication and
abufe of my faculties ; or it may mean an eflimation of my liable-
nefs to err, by conceiving my faculties to be true and faithful,
while they may be falfe and fallacious in themfelves, even when
applied in the befl manner. I fhall confider this eftimation in each
of thefe fenfes.

If the firfh be the eflimation meant, it is true that reafon diredls
us, as fallible creatures, to carry along with us, in all our judg-
ments, a fcnfe of our fallibility. It is true alfo, that we are in
greater danger of erring in fome cafes, and lefs in others ; and
that this danger of erring may, according to the circumftances of
the cafe, admit of an eflimation, which vve ought llkewife to car-
ry along with us in every judgment we form.

When a demonflration is fliort and plain ; when the point to be
proved does not touch our interefl or our paffions ; when the facul-
ty

OF Mr HUME's SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON. 705

ty of judging, in fuch cafes, has acquired ftrength by much exer- CHAP. IV.
cife, there is lefs danger of erring ; when the contrary circumftan-
ces take place, there is more.

In the prefent cafe, every circumftance is favourable to the judg-
ment I have formed. There cannot be lefs danger of erring
in any cafe, excepting perhaps vs^hen I judge of a felf-evident
axiom.

The Sceptic farther urges, that this decifion, though favourable
to my firft judgment, being founded only on probability, mud ftill
weaken the evidence of that judgment.

Here I cannot help being of a quite contrary opinion, nor can
I imagine how an ingenious author could impofe upon him-
felf fo grofsly, for furely he did not intend to impofe upon his
reader.

After repeated examination of a propofition of Euclid, I judge
it to be ftridtly demonftrated ; this is my firft judgment. But as
I am liable to err from various caufes, I confider how far I may
have been mifled by any of thefe caufes in this judgment. My
decifion upon this fecond point is favourable to my firft judgment,
and therefore, as I apprehend, muft ftrengthen it. To fay, that
this decifion, becaufe it is only probable, muft weaken the firft
evidence, feems to me contrary to all rules of logic, and to com-
mon fenfe.

The firft judgment may be compared to the teftimony of a cre-
dible witnefs ; the fecond, after a fcrutiny into the charadler of
the witnefs, wipes off every objecSlion that can be made to it, and
therefore furely muft confirm and not weaken his teftimony.

>

But let us fuppofe, that, in another cafe, I examine my firft

U u u u judgment

7o6 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IV. judgment upon fome point, and find, that it was attended with un-
favourable circum fiances, what, in reafon, and according to the
rules of logic, ought to be the effedl of this difcovery ?

The effedl furely will be, and ought to be, to make me lefs con-
fident in my firfl judgment, until I examine the point anew in
more favourable circumftances. If it be a matter of importance I
return to weigh the evidence of my firfl judgment. If it was pre-
cipitate before, it mufl now be deliberate in every point. If at
firfl I was in pafTlon, I muft now be cool. If I had an intereft in
the decifion, I mufl place the interefl on the other fide.

It is evident, that this review of the fubjedl may confirm my
firfl judgment, notwithflanding the fufpicious circumflances that
attended it. Though the judge was biafTed or corrupted, it does
not follow, that the fentence was unjufl. The redlitude of the de-
cifion does not depend upon the characfler of the judge, but upon
the nature of the cafe. From that only, it muft be determined
whether the decifion be juft. The circumflances that rendered it
fufpicious are mere prefumptions, which have no force againfl di«
re<fl evidence.

Thus, I have confidered the effedl of this eflimation of our liabl«-
nefs to err in our firft judgment, and have allowed to it all the ef-
fedl that reafon and the rules of logic permit. In the cafe I firft
fuppofed, and in every cafe where we can difcover no caufe of er-
ror, it affords a prefumption in favour of the firft judgment. In
other cafes, it may afford a prefumption againft it. But the rules
of logic require, that v^e fliouM not judge by prefumptions, where
we have diredl evidence. The effe(5l of an unfavourable prefump-
tion fhould only be, to make us examine the evidence with the
greater care.

The Sceptic urges, in the laft place, that this eftimation mufl be

fubjecHied

OF Mr HUME's SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON. 707

fubjedled to another eftimation, that to another, and fo on/« wfmi- CHAP, iv.
turn ; and as every new eftimation takes away from the evidence of
the firft judgment, it muft at laft be totally annihilated.

I anfwer,7?/)?, it has been fhown above, that the firft eftimation,
fuppofing it unfavourable, can only afford a prefumption againft
the firft judgment ; the fecond, upon the fame fuppofition, will be
only the prefumption of a prefumption ; and the third, the pre-
fumption that there is a prefumption of a prefumption. This in-
finite feries of prefumptions refembles an infinite feries of quan-
tities decreafing in geometrical proportion, which amounts only to
a finite fum. The infinite feries of ftages of Achilles's journey
after the old man, amounts only to two thoufand paces j nor can
this infinite feries of prefumptions outweigh one folid argument
in favour of the firft judgment, fuppofing them all to be unfavour-
able to it.

Secondly, I have fhown, that the eftimation of our firft judgment
may ftrengthen it ; and the fame thing may be faid of all the fub-
fequent eftimations. It would, therefore, be as reafonable to
conclude, that the firft judgment will be brought to infallible cer-
tainty when this feries of eftimations is wholly in its favour, as
that its evidence will be brought to nothing by fuch a feries fup-
pofed to be wholly unfavourable to it. But, in reality, one ferious
and cool re-examination of the evidence by which our firft judg*
ment is fupported, has, and, in reafon, ought to have more force
to ftrengthen or weaken it, than an infinite feries of fuch eftima-
tions as our author requires.

Thirdly^ I know no reafon nor rule in logic, that requires that
fuch a feries of eftimations fhould follow every particular judg-
ment.

A wife man who has pra«flifed reafoning knows that he is fal-

XJ u u u 2 lible,

7o8 ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IV. llble, and carries this convidlion along with him in every judg-
ment he forms. He knows Ukewife that he is more Uable to err
in fome cafes than in others. He has a fcale in his mind, by
"which he eflimates his liablenefs to err, and by this he regulates
the degree of his affent in his firfl judgment upon any point.

The author's reafonlng fuppofes, that a man, when he forms
his firft judgment, conceives himfelf to be infalUble ; that by a
fecond and fubfequent judgment, he difcovers that he is not infal-
lible ; and that by a third judgment, fubfequent to the fecond,
" '. he eftimates his liablenefs to err in fuch a cafe as the pre-

fent»

If the man proceed in this order, I grant, that his fecond judg-
ment will, with good reafon, bring down the firfl from fuppofed
infallibility to fallibility ; and that his third judgment will, in fome
degree, either ftrengthen or weaken the firft, as it is corredled by
the fecond.

But every m^an of underftanding proceeds in a contrary order.
When about to judge in any particular point, he knows already that
he is not infallible. He knows what are the cafes in which he is mofc
•r leaft liable to err. The convidlion of thefe things is always pre-
fent to his mind, and influences the degree of his affent in his firfl
judgment, as far as to him appears reafonabk.

If he fhould afterwards find reafon to fufpedl his firfl judgmenf,
and defires to have all the fatisfadlion his facvilties can give, reafon
will diredl him not to form fuch a feries of eflimations upon efti-
mations, as this author requires, but to examine the evidence of
his firfl judgment carefully and coolly ; and this review may very
reafonably, according to its refult, either flrengthen or weaken,
or totally overturn his firfl judgment,

this

OF Mr HUME'S SCEPTICISM ABCJUT REASON. 709

This iafinite feries of eftimations, therefore, Is not the method CHAP. iv.
that reafon direcls in order to form our judgment in any cafe. It
is introduced without necefllty, without any ufe but to puzzle the
underftanding, and to make us think, that to judge, even in the
fimpleft and plainefl cafes, is a matter of infurmountable diiEcui-
ty and endlefs labour ; juft as the ancient Sceptic, to make a
journey of two thoufand paces appear endlefs, divided it into an in-
finite number of ftages.

But we obferved, that the eftimation which our author requires-
may admit of another meaning, .which indeed is more agreeable
to the exprefllon^ but inconfiftent with what he advanced be-
fore.

By the poflibility of error in the eftimation of the truth and
fixlellty of our faculties, may be meant, that we may err by efteem-
ing our faculties true and faithful, while they may be falfe and.
fallacious,, even when ufed according to the rules of reafon and
logic

If this be meant, I anfwer, firjl^ That the truth and fidelity of
our faculty of judging is, and muft be taken for granted in every
judgment and in every eftimation.

If the Sceptic can ferioufly doubt of the truth and fidelity of his
faculty of judging when properly ufed, and fufpend his judgment
upon that point till he finds proof, his fcepticifm admits of no
cure by reafoning, and he muft even continue in it until he have
new faculties given him, which fliall have authority to fit in judg-
ment upon the old. Nor is there any need of an endlefs fucceffion
of doubts upon this fubjed, for the firft puts an end to all judg-
ment and reafoning, and to the poflibility of convidlion by that
means. The Sceptic has here got pofleflion of a ftrong hold which

ie.

7IO ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IV. ig impTegnable to reafoning, and we muft leave him in pofleflion
of" it, till Nature, by other means, makes him give it up.

Secondly^ I obferve, that this ground of fcepticifm, from the
fuppofed infidelity of our faculties, contradids what the author
before advanced in this very argument, to wit, that '* the rules of
" the demonftrative fciences are certain and infallible, and that
" truth is the natural efFecfl of reafon, and that error arifes from
" the irruption of other caufes."

But perhaps he made thefe conceffions unwarily. He is there-
fore at liberty to retraifl them, and to reft his fcepticifm upon this
fole foundation, That no reafoning can prove the truth and fidelity
of our faculties. Here he flands upon firm ground : For it is evi-
dent, that every argument offered to prove the truth and fidelity of
our faculties, takes for granted the thing in queftion, and is there-
fore that kind of fophifm which Logicians call pet'ttio principii.

All we would afk of this kind of Sceptic is, that he would be
uniform and confiflent, and that his practice in life do not belie
his profeffion of fcepticifm with regard to the fidelity of his fa-
culties : For the want of faith, as well as faith itfelf, is befl fliown
by works. If a Sceptic avoid the fire as much as thofe who be-
lieve it dangerous to go into it, we can hardly avoid thinking his
fcepticifm to be feigned, and not real.

Our author indeed was aware, that neither his fcepticifm, nor
that of any other perfon, was able to endure this trial, and there-
fore enters a caveat againft it. " Neither I, fays he, nor any other
" perfon, was ever fincerely and conftantly of that opinion. Na-
" ture, by an abfolute and uncontrollable neceffity, has deter^
" mined us to judge, as well as to breathe and feel. My intention,
" therefore, fays he, in difplaying fo carefully the arguments of
" that fantaflic k6S.^ is only to make the reader fenfible of the
" truth of my hypothefis, that all our reafonings concerning

" caufes

OF Mr HUME'S SCEPTICISM ABOUT REASON: 711

" caufes and efFeds, are derived from nothing but cuftom, and that CHAP, iv.
" belief is more properly an a6l of the fenfitive than of the cogita-
" tive part of our nature."

"We have before conlidered the firft part of this hypothefis.
Whether our reafoning about caufes be derived only from cuftom ?

The other part of the author's hypothefis here mentioned is
darkly expreffed, though the expreflion feems to be ftudied, as it
is put in Italics. It cannot furely mean that belief is not an a(fl
of thinking. It is not, therefore, the power of thinking that he
calls the cogitative part of our nature. Neither can it be the
power of judging, for all belief implies judgment ; and to believe a
propofition means the fame thing as to judge it to be true. Ic
feems, therefore, to be the power of reafoning that he calls the
cogitative part of our nature.

If this be the meaning, I agree to it in part. The belief of firft
principles is not an adl of the reafoning power : For all reafoning
muft be grounded upon them. We judge them to be true, and
believe them without reafoning. But why this power of judging
of firft principles fhould be called the fenfitive part of our nature,
I do not underftand.

As our belief of firft principles is an ad of pure judgment vvith-
out reafoning ; fo our belief of the conclufions drawn by reafoning
from firft principles, may, I think, be called an a«fl of the reafon-
ing faculty.

Upon the whole, I fee only two conclufions that can be fairly
drawn from this profound and intricate reafoning againft reafon.
The firft is, That we are fallible in all our judgments and in all
our reafonings. The fecond, That the truth and fidelity of our fa-
culties can never be proved by reafoning ; and therefore our belief

of

yi*

ESSAY VII.

CHAP. IV- of it cannot be founded on reafoning. If the laft be what the au-
thor calls his'hypothefis, I fubfcribe to it, and think it not an hy-
pothefis, but a manifeft truth ; though I conceive it to be very im-
properly exprejled, by faying that belief is more properly an ad
of the feniitive than of the cogitative part of our nature.

ESSAY

7^J

CHAP. I.

V ^ '

E S S A Y VIIL

O F T A S T E.

C H A P. I.

Of Tajie in general.

THAT power of the mind by which we are capable of difcern-
ing and relifhing the beauties of Nature, and whatever is
excellent in the fine arts, is called tajle.

The external fenfe of tafte, by which we diftinguifh and relifh
the various kinds of food, has given occafion to a metaphorical
application of its name to this internal power of the mind, by
which we perceive what is beautiful, and what is deformed or de-
fe^ive in the various objects that we contemplate.

Like the tafte of the palate, it relifhes fome things, is difgufted
with others ; with regard to many, is indifferent or dubious, and
is confiderably influenced by habit, by affociations, and by opi-
nion. Thefe obvious analogies between external and internal
tafte, have led men, in all ages, and in all or moft poliflied lan-
guages, to give the name of the external fenfe to this power of
difcerning what is beautiful with pleafure, and what is ugly and
faulty in its kind with difguft.

In treating of this as an intelledlual power of the mind, I in-

X X X X tend

7H

ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. 1. tend only to make feme obfervations, firft on its nature, and then

%■■! ■■ 1^ ■ III ■/

on its objedls.

1. In the external fenfe of tafte, we are led by reafon and re-
fledlion to diftinguilli between the agreeable fenfation we feel, and
the quality in the objecfl which occafions it. Both have the fame
name, and on that account are apt to be confounded by the vul-
gar, and even by Philofophers. The fenfation I feel when I tafte
any fapid body is in my mind ; but there is a real quality in the
body which is the caufe of this fenfation. Thefe two things have
the fame name in language, not from any fimilitude in their na-
ture, but becaufe the one is the fign of the other, and becaufe
there is little occafion in common life to diflinguilh them.

This was fully explained in treating of the fecondary qualities
of bodies. The reafon of taking notice of it now is, that the in-
ternal powei" of tafte bears a great analogy in this refped to the
external.

When a beautiful objedl is before us, we may diftinguifli the
agreeable emotion it produces in us, from the quality of the object
which caufes that emotion. When I hear an air in mufic that
pleafes me, I fay, it is fine, it is excellent. This excellence is not
in me ; it is in the mufic. But the pleafure it gives is not in the
mufic ; it is in me. Perhaps I cannot fay what it is in the tune
that pleafes my ear, as I cannot fay what it is in a fapid body that
pleafes my palate ; but there is a quality in the fapid body which
pleafes my palate, and I call it a delicious tafte ; and there is a
quality in the tune that pleafes my tafte, and I call it a fine or an;
excellent air.

This ought the rather to be obferved, becaufe it is become a
fafhlon among modern Philofophers, to refolve all pur perceptions
into mere feelings or fenfations in the perfon that perceives, with-
out any thing correfponding to thofe feelings in the external ob-

jea.

OF TASTE IN GENERAL.

715

jedl. According to thofe Philofophers, there is no heat in the fire, CHAP. i.
no tafte in a fapid body ; the tafte and the heat being only in the ^ '

perfon that feels them. In like manner, there is no beauty in any
objed whatfoever ; it is only a fenfation or feeling in the perfon
that perceives it.

The language and the common fenfe of mankind contradid this
theory. Even thofe who hold it, find themfelves obliged to ufe a
language that contradids it. I had occafion to ftiow, that there is
no folid foundation for it w^hen applied to the fecondary qualities
of body; and the fame arguments fhow equally, that it has no
folid foundation when applied to the beauty of objeds, or to any
of thofe qualities that are perceived by a good tafte.

But though fome of the qualities that pleafe a good tafte re-
femble the fecondary qualities of body, and therefore may be cal-
led occult qualities, as we only feel their efFecft, and have no more
knowledge of the caufe, but that it is fomething which is adapted
by Nature to produce that effedlj this is not always the cafe.

Our judgment of beauty is in many cafes more enlightened.
A work of art may appear beautiful to the moft ignorant, even to
a child. It pleafes, but he knows not why. To one who under-
ftands it perfe(5lly, and perceives how every part is fitted with
exadl judgment to its end, the beauty is not myfterious ; it is per-
fedly comprehended ; and he knows wherein it confifts, as well
as how it affedls him.

2. We may obferve, that, though all the taftes we perceive by
the palate are either agreeable or difagreeable, or indifferent j yet,
among thofe that are agreeable, there is great diverfity, not in de-
gree only, but in kind. And as we have not generical names for
all the different kinds of tafte, we diftinguilh them by the bodies
in which they are found.

XxxK2 In

7i6 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. I. In like manner, all the objeds of our internal tafte are either
beautiful, or difagreeable, or indiiferent ; yet of beauty there is a
great diverfity, not only of degree, but of kind : The beauty of
a demonftration, the beauty of a poem, the beauty of a palace,
the beauty of a piece of niufic, the beauty of a fine woman, and
many more that might be named, are different kinds of beauty ;
and we have no names to diftinguifh them but the names of the
different objedts to which they belong.

As there is fuch diverfity in the kinds of beauty as well as in
'^ the degrees, we need not think it ftrange that Philofophers have

gone into different fyftems in analyfing it, and enumerating its
fimple ingredients. They have made many juft obfervations on
the fubjedl ; but, from the love of fimplicity, have reduced it to
fewer principles than the nature of the thing will permit, having
had in their eye fome particular kinds of beauty, while they over-
looked others.

There are moral beauties as well as natural ; beauties in the ob-
jedls of fenfe, and in intelledual obje6ls ; in the works of men,
and in the works of God ; in things inanimate, in brute animals,
and in rational beings ; in the conflitution of the body of man,
and in the conflitution of his mind. There is no real excellence
which has not its beauty to a difcerning eye, when placed in a
proper point of view ; and it is as difficult to enumerate the in-
gredients of beauty as the ingredients of real excellence.

3. The tafle of the palate may be accounted mofl jufl and per-
fe<fl, when we relifli the things that are fit for the nourilhment of
the body, and are difgufted with things of a contrary nature. The
manifefl intention of Nature in giving us this fenfe, is, that we
may difcern what it is fit for us to eat and to drink, and what it
is not. Brute animals are dire<5led in the choice of their food
merely by their tafle. Led by this guide, they chufe the food that
Nature intended for them, and feldom make miftakes, unlefs they

be

OFTASTEINGENERAL. 717

be pinched by hunger, or deceived by artificial compofitions. In chap. i.
infants likewife the tafte is commonly found and uncorrupted, and
of the fimple produdions of Nature they relifh the things that are
mofl wholefome.

In like manner, our internal tafte ought to be accounted moft
. juft and perfefl, when we are pleafed with things that are moft
excellent in their kind, and difpleafed with the contrary. The in-
tention of Nature is no lefs evident in this internal tafte than in
the external. Every excellence has a real beauty and charm that
makes it an agreeable objedl to thofe who have the faculty of dif-
cerning its beauty ; and this faculty is what we call a good tafte.

A man, who, by any diforder in his mental powers, or by bad •
habits, has contra<5led a relifti for what has no real excellence,
or what is deformed and defedlive, has a depraved tafte, like one
■who finds a more agreeable relifti in alhes or cinders than in the
moft wholefome food. As we muft acknowledge the tafte of the
palate to be depraved in this cafe, there is the fame reafon to think
the tafte of the mind depraved in the other.

There is therefore a juft and rational tafte, and there is a depra-
ved and corrupted tafte. For it is too evident, that, by bad edu-
cation, bad habits, and wrong aflbciations, men may acquire a re-
lifti for naftinefs, for rudenefs, and ill breeding, and for many
other deformities. To fay that fuch a tafte is not vitiated, is no
lefs abfurd than to fay, that the fickly girl who delights in eating
charcoal and tobacco-pipes, has as juft and natural a tafte as when
fhe is in perfedl health.

4. The force of cuftora, of fancy, and of cafual aflbciations, is
very great both upon the external and internal tafte. An Elki-
maux can regale himfelf with a draught of whale-oil, and a Ca-
- nadian can feaft upon a dog. A Kamfchatkadale lives upon pu-
trid fifti, and is fometimes reduced to eat the bark of trees. The

tafte

71-8 ESSAY VTII.

^'^'^^' ^'-^ ^^^^ °^ rum, or of green tea, is at firft as naufeous as that of ipe-
cacuan, to fome perfons, who may be brought by ufe to relifh
Avhat they once found fo difagreeable.

When we fee fuch varieties in the tafte of the palate produced
by cuftom and afTociations, and fome perhaps by conftitution, we
may be the lefs furprifed that the fame caufes fliould produce Hke
varieties in the tafte of beauty ; that the African fhould efteem
thick lips and a flat nofe ; that other nations fliould draw out their
ears, till they hang over their flioulders ; that in one nation ladies
fliould paint their faces, and in another Ihould make them fliine
with greafe.

5. Thofe who conceive that there is no ftandard in nature by
which tafte may be regulated, and that the common proverb, That
there ought to be no difpute about tafte, is to be taken in the ut-
moft latitude, go upon flender and infufficient ground. The fame
arguments might be ufed with equal force againft any ftandard
of truth.

"Whole nations by the force of prejudice are brought to believe
the groflTeft abfurdities ; and why fliould it be thought that the
tafte is lefs capable of being perverted than the judgment ? It muft
indeed be acknowledged, that men differ more in the faculty of
tafte than in what we commonly call judgment ; and therefore it
may be expeded that they fliould be more liable to have their tafte
corrupted in matters of beauty and deformity, than their judgment
in matters of truth and error.

If we make due allowance for this, we fliall fee that it is as eafy
to account for the variety of taftes, though there be in nature a
ftandard of true beauty, and confequently of good tafte ; as it is
' to account for the variety and contrariety of opinions, though

there" be in nature a ftandard of truth, and confequently of right
judgment.

6. Nay,

OF TASTE IN GENERAL.

715

6. Nay, if we fpeak accurately and ftridly, we fliall find, that, chap. i.
in every operation of tafte, there is judgment implied. ' ' ' '

When a man pronounces a poem or a palace to be beautiful, he
affirms fomething of that poem or that palace ; and every affirma-
tion or denial exprefles judgment. For we cannot better define
judgment, than by faying that it is an affirmation or denial of one
thing concerning another. I had occafion to fliow, when treating
of judgment, that it is implied in every perception of our exter-
nal fenfes. There is an immediate convidion and belief of the
exiftence of the quality perceived, whether it be colour, or found,
or figure ; and the fame thing holds in the perception of beauty
or deformity.

If it be faid that the perception of beauty is merely a feeling in
the mind that perceives, without any belief of excellence in the
objecfl, the neceifary confequence of this opinion is, that when I
fay Virgil's Georgics is a beautiful poem, I mean not to fay any
thing of the poem, but only fomething concerning myfelf and my
feelings. Why fhould I ufe a language that expreflTes the contra-
ry of what I mean ?

My language, according to the neceflary rules of conflru(5lion,
can bear no other meaning but this, that there is fomething in the
poem, and not in me, which I call beauty. Even thofe who hold
beauty to be merely a feeling in the perfon that perceives it, find
themfelves under a neceffity of expreffing themfelves, as if beauty
were folely a quahty of the objed, and not of the percipient.

No reafon can be given why all mankind ffiould exprefs them-
felves thus, but that they believe what they fay. It is therefore
contrary to the univerfal fenfe of mankind, exprefled by their lan-
guage, that beauty is not really in the objed, but is merely a feel-
ing in the perfon who is faid to perceive it. Philofophers fliould
be very cautious in oppofing the common fenfe of mankind j for, ,
when they do, they rarely mifs going wrong..

Our

720 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. I.^ Our judgment of beauty is not indeed a dry and unaffecfling
judgment, like that of a mathematical or metaphyfical truth. By
the conftitution of our nature, it is accompanied with an agreeable
feeling or emotion, for which we have no other name but the fenfe
of beauty. This fenfe of beauty, like the perceptions of our
other fenfes, implies not only a feeling, but an opinion of fome
quality in the obje6l which occafions that feeling.

In objeds that pleale the tafle, we always judge that there is
fome real excellence, fome fuperiority to thofe that do not pleafe.
In fome cafes, that fuperior excellence is diftindly perceived, and
can be pointed out ; in other cafes, we have only a general notion
of fome excellence which we cannot defcribe. Beauties of the
former kind may be compared to the primary qualities perceived
by the external fenfes ; thofe of the latter kind, to the fecondary.

7. Beauty or deformity in an objedl:, refults from its nature or
ftrudlure. To perceive the beauty therefore, we muft perceive
the nature or ftrudlure from which it refults. In this the internal
fenfe differs from the external. Our external fenfes may difcover
qualities which do not depend upon any antecedent perception.
Thus I can hear the found of a bell, though I never perceived any
thing elfe belonging to it. But it is impoflible to perceive the beau-
ty of an obje6l without perceiving the objecfl, or at leaft conceiving
it. On this account, Dr Hutcheson called the fenfes of beauty
and harmony reflex or fecondary fenfes j becaufe the beauty can-
not be perceived unlefs the objecl be perceived by fome other power
.of the mind. Thus the fenfe of harmony and melody in founds
fuppofes the external fenfe of hearing, and is a kind of fecondary
to it. A man born deaf may be a good judge of beauties of an-
other kind, but can have no notion of melody or harmony. The
like may be faid of beauties in colouring and in figure, which can
never be perceived without the fenfes, by which colour and figure
are perceived.

CHAP.

OFNOVELTY.

C H A P. II.

Of the Objeas of tqfte^ ' andfrjl of Novelty,

A Philosophical analyfis of the objedts of tafte is like apply-
ing the anatomical knife to a fine face. The defign of the
Philofopher, as well as of the Anatomift, is not to gratify tafte,
but to improve knowledge. The reader ought to be aware of this,
that he may not entertain an expedlation in which he will be dis-
appointed.

By the objeifls of tafte, I mean thofe qualities or attributes of
tilings, which are by Nature adapted to pleafe a good tafte. Mr
Addison, and Dr Akenside after him, have reduced tliem to
three, to wit, novelty, grandeur, and beauty. This divifion is
fufficient for all I intend to fay upon the fubjedl, and therefore I
fhall adopt it ; obferving only, that beauty is often taken in fo ex-
tenfive a fenfe as to comprehend all the objedls of tafte ; yet all the
authors I have met with, who have given a divifion of the objedls
of tafte, make beauty one fpecies.

I take the reafon of this to be, that we have fpecific names fof
fome of the qualities that pleafe the tafte, but not for all ; and
therefore all thofe fall under the general name of beauty, for which,
there is no fpecific name in the divifion.

There are, indeed, fo many fpecies of beauty, that it would be
as difficult to enumerate them perfedlly, as to enumerate all the
taftes we perceive by the palate. Nor does there appear to me fuf-
ficient reafon for making, as fome very ingenious authors have
done, as many different internal fenfes as there are different fpe*
cies of beauty or deformity.

Y y y y The

722

ESSAY vm.

CHAP. II. The divifion of our external fenfes is taken from the organs or
perception, and not from the qualities perceived. We have not
the fame means of dividing the internal ; becaufe, though fome
kinds of beauty belong only to obje<5ls of the eye, and others to
objedls of the ear, there are many which we cannot refer to any
bodily organ ; and therefore I conceive every divifion that has been
made of our internal fenfes to be in fome degree arbitrary. They
may be made more or fewer, according as we have diftindl names
for the various kinds of beauty and deformity ; and I fufpe<9: the
moft copious languages have not names for them all.

Novelty is not properly a quality of the thing to which we at-
tribute it, far lefs is it a fenfation in the mind to which it is new;
it is a relation which the thing has to the knowledge of theperfon.
What is new to one man, may not be fo to another ; what is new
this moment, may be familiar to the fame perfon fome time
hence. When an objed is firfl brought to our knowledge, it is
new, whether it be agreeable or not,

It is evident, therefore, with regard to novelty, (whatever may
be faid of other objeds of tafte) that it is not merely a fenfation
in the mind of him to whom the thing is new ; it is a real rela-
tion which the thing has to his knowledge at that time..

But we are fo conftituted, that what is new to us, commonly
gives pleafure upon that account, if it be not in itfelf difagreeable. ,
It roufes our attention, and ocqafions an agreeable exertion of our.
faculties.

«k ■
The pleafure we receive from novelty in objecEts has fo great in--

fluence in human life, that it well deferves the attention of Philo-.

fophers ; and feveral ingenious authors, particularly, Dr Girard

in his Eflay on Tafte, have, I think, fuccefsfully accounted for it,.

from the principles of the human conftitution.

We

• O F N O V E L T Y. 723

We can perhaps conceive a being £0 made^ chat his happinefs pHAP. ii.
confifts in a continuance of the fame unvaried fenfations or feel-
ings, without any adlive exertion on his part. Whether this be
poflible or not, it is evident that man is not fuch a being ; his
good confifts in the vigorous exertion of his adlive and intellective
powers upon their proper objecfls ; he is made for adlion and pro-
grefs, and cannot be happy without it ; his enjoyments feem to be
given by Nature, not fo much for their own fake, as to encourage
the exercife of his various powers. That tranquillity of. foul in
which fome place human happinefs, is not a dead reft, but a re-
gular progreffive motion.

Such is the conftitution of man by the appointment of Nature.
This conftitution is perhaps a part of the imperfedion of our na-
ture ; but it is wifely adapted to our ftate, which is not intended
to be ftationary, but progreffive. The eye is not fatiated with fee-
ing, nor the ear with hearing ; fomething is always wanted. De-
fire and hope never ceafe, but remain to fpur us on to fomething
yet to be acquired ; and, if they could ceafe, human happinefs
mufl end with them. That our dcfire and hope be properly di-
rected, is our part ; that they can never be extinguifhed, is the
work of Nature.

It is this that makes human life fo bufy a fcene. Man muft be
doing fomething, good or bad, trifling or important ; .and he muft
vary the employment of his faculties, or their exercife will be-
come languid, and the pleafiire that attends it ficken of courfe.

The notions of enjoyment, and of adlivity, confidered abftradl-
ly, are no doubt very different, and we cannot perceive a neceffa-
ry connexion between them. But, in our conftitution, they are
fo conneded by the wlfdom of Nature, that they muft go hand in
hand ; and the firft muft be led and fupported by the laft.

An objedt at firft, perhaps, gave much pleafure, while attentioa

' ^ y y y 2 "^^^

724

ESSAY VIII.

v~.

CHAP. 11. ^as diredled to it with vigour. But attention cannot be long con-
fined to one unvaried obje<5l, nor can it be carried round in the
fame narrow circle. Curiofity is a capital principle in the human
conftitution, and its food muft be what is in fome refpedl new.
What is faid of the Athenians may in fome degree be applied to
all mankind, That their time is fpent in hearing, or telling, or do-
ing fome new thing.

•
Into this part of the human conftitution, I think, we may re-

folve the pleafure we have from novelty in objedls.

Curiofity is commonly flrongeft in children and in young per-
fons, and accordingly novelty pleafes them moft. In all ages, in
proportion as novelty gratifies curiofity, and occafions a vigorous
exertion of any of our mental powers in attending to the new ob-
jedl, in the fame proportion it gives pleafure. In advanced life,
the indolent and inactive have the flrongeft paflion for news, as a
relief from a painful vacuity of thought.

But the pleafure derived from new objecfls, in many cafes, is not
owing folely or chiefly to their being new, but to fome other cir-
cumftance that gives them value. The new fafliion in drefs, fur-
niture, equipage, and other accommodations of life, gives plea-
fure, not fo much,, as I apprehend, becaufe it is new, as becaufe
it is a fign of rank, and diftinguilhes a man from the vulgar.

In fome things novelty is due, and the want of it a real imper-
fedlion. Thus, if an author adds to the number of books, with
which the public is already overloaded, we expecfl from him fome-
thing new ; and if he fays nothing but what has been faid before
in as agreeable a manner, we are juflJy difgufted.

When novelty Is altogether feparated from the conception of
worth and utility, it makes but a flight impreflion upon a truly
corre<fl tafte. Every difcovery in nature, in the arts, and in the

fciences,

O F N O V E L T Y. ^2^

fciences, has a real value, and gives a rational pleafure to a good chap, ir.
tafte. But things that have nothing to recommend them but no- "^ " '
velty, are fit only to entertain children, or thofe who are diftrefled
from a vacuity of thought. This quality of objeds may there-
fore be compared to the cypher in arithmetic, which adds greatly
to the value of fignificant figures ; but, when put by itfelf, figni,.
fies nothing at all.

CHAP. HI.

Of Grandeur^

THE qualities which pleafe the tafle are not more various in
themfelves than are the emotions and feelings with which
they affe(5l our minds.

Things new and uncommon affe<51: us with a pleafing furprife,
which roufes and invigorates our attention to the objedl. But this
emotion foon flags, if there is nothing but novelty to give it con-
tinuance, and leaves no efFed upon the mind.

The emotion raifed by grand objecfls is awful, folemn, and ferious.

Gf all obje(5ls of contemplation, the Supreme Being is the mod
grand. His eternity, his immenfity, his irrefiflible power, his in-
finite knowledge and unerring wifdom, his inflexible juftice and
redlitude, his fupreme government, condu(5ting all the movements
of this vaft univerfe to the nobleft ends, and in the wifeft manner,
are objedts which fill the utmoft capacity of the foul, and reach far
beyond its comprehenfion.

The emotion which this grandeft of all objeds raifes in the hu-
man mind, is what we call devotion ; a ferious recoUeded temper

which.

72-6 ESSAY VIII.

£HAP. in. which infpiies magnanimity, and clifpofes to the mofl heroic ads
jof virtue.

The emotion produced by other objcifls which may be called
grand, though in an inferior degree, is, in its nature and in its
effedls, fimilar to that of devotion. It difpofes to ferioufnefs, ele-
vates the mind above its ufual ftace, to a kind of enthuliafm, and
infpires magnaminity, and a contempt of what is mean.

Such, I conceive, is the emotion which the contemplation of
grand objedls raifes in us. We are next to confider what this
grandeur in objedls is.

To me it feems to be nothing elfe but fuch a degree of excellence,
in one kind or another, as merits our admiration.

There are fome attributes of mind which have a real and in-
trinfic excellence, compared with their contraries, and which, in
every degree, are the natural objeds of efteem, but, in an uncom-
mon degree are objedls of admiration. We put a value upon them
becaufe they are intrinfically valuable and excellent.

The fpirit of modern philofophy would indeed lead us to think,
that the worth and value we put upon things is only a fenfation
in our minds, and not any thing inherent in the objeift ; and that
we might have been fo conftituted as to put the higheft value upon
the things which we now defpife, and to defpife the qualities which
we now highly efteem.

It gives me pleafure to obferve, that Dr Price, in his Review
of the Queftions concerning morals, ftrenuoufly oppofes this opi-
nion, as well as that which refolves moral right and wrong into a
fenfation in the mind of the fpe6lator. That judicious author faw
the confequences which thefe opinions draw after them, and has
traced them to their fource, to wit, the account given by Mr Locke,
. , and

OF G R ^N D E U R. 727

and adopted by the generality of modern Philofophers, of the orl- CHAP, ill.
gin of all our ideas, which account he fhows to be very defedive.

This pronenefs to refolve every thing into feelings and fenfa-
tions, is an extreme into which we have been led by the defire of
avoiding an oppofite extreme, as common in the ancient philofophy.

At firft, men are prone by nature and by habit to give all their
attention to things external. Their notions" of the mind, and its
operations, are formed from fome analogy they bear to objeifts of
fenfe ; and an external exiftence is afcribed to things which are
only conceptions or feelings of the mind.

This fpirit prevailed much in the philofophy both of Plato
and of Aristotle, and produced the myfterious notions of e-
ternal and felf-exiftent ideas, of materia prima, of fubftancial forms,,
and others of the like nature..

From the time of Des Cartes, philofophy took a contrary turn.
That great man difcovered, that many things fuppofed to have an,
external exiftence, were only conceptions or feelings of the mind.
This track has been purfued by his fucceflbrs to fuch an extreme,,
as to refolve every thing into fenfations, feelings, and ideas in the
mind, and to leave nothing external at all.

The Peripatetics thought, that heat and cold which we feel to
be qualities of external objeas. The moderns make heat and cold
to be fenfations only, and allow no real quality of body to be
called by that name : And the fame judgment they have formed
with regard to all fecondary qualities.

So far Des Cartes and Mr Locke went. Their fucceflbrs be-
ing put into this track of converting into feelings things that were
believed to have an external exiftence, found that extenfion, folidin
ty, figure, and all the primary qualities of body, are fenfations or-

feelings-

728 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. Iil.^ feelings of the mind ; and that the material world is a phenome-
non only, and has no exiflence but in our mind.

It was then a very natural progrefs to conceive, that beauty,
harmony, and grandeur, the objeds of tafte, as well as right and
wrong, the objeds of the moral faculty, are nothing but feelings
of the mind.

Thofe who are acquainted with the writings of modern Philofo-
phers, can eafily trace this do(5lrine of feelings, from Des Car-
tes down to Mr Hume, who put the finifhing ftroke to it, by ma-
king truth and error to be feelings of the mind, and belief to be
an operation of the fenfitive part of our nature.

To return to our fubje(fl, if we hearken to the didlates of com-
mon fenfe, we muft be convinced that there is real excellence in
fome things, whatever our feelings or our conftitution be.

it depends no doubt vipon our conftitution, whether we do, or
do not perceive excellence where it really is : But the objecl has its
excellence from its own conftitution, and not from ours.

The common judgment of mankind in this matter fufficiently
appears in the language of all nations, which uniformly afcribes
excellence, grandeur, and beauty to the objecl, and not to the
mind that perceives it. And I believe in this, as in moft other
things, we fhall find the common judgment of mankind and true
philofophy not to be at variance.

Is not power in its nature more excellent than weaknefs ; know-
ledge than ignorance ; wifdom than folly ; fortitude than pufil-
lanimity ?

Is there no intrinfic excellence in felf-command, in generofity,
in public fpirit ? Is not friendfhip a better afFedion of mind than
hatred, a noble emulation, than envy ?

Let

OF GRANDEUR.

729

Let us fuppofe, If poflible, a being fo conftituted, as to have a chap. hi.
higli refped; for ignorance, weaknefs, and folly ; to venerate cow-
ardice, malice, and envy, and to hold the contrary qualities in
contempt ; to have an efteem for lying and falfehood, and to love
moft- thofe v?ho impofed upon him, and ufed him worft. Could
we believe fuch a conftitution to be any thing elle than madnefs
and delirium ? It is impoffible. We can as eafily conceive a con-
ftitution, by which one fhould perceive two and three to make fif-
teen, or a part to be greater than the whole.

Every one who attends to the operations of his own mind will
find it to be certainly true, as it is the common belief of man-
kind, that efteem is led by opinion, and that every perfon draws
our efteem, as far only as he appears either to reafon or fancy to
be amiable and worthy.

There is therefore a real intrinfic excellence in fome qualities of
mind, as in power, knowledge, wifdom, virtue, magnanimity.
Thefe in every degree merit efteem ; but in an uncommon degree
they merit admiration ; and that which merits admiration we call
grand.

In the contemplation of uncommon excellence, the mind feels
a noble enthufiafm, which difpofes it to the imitation of what it
admires.

When we contemplate the character of Cato, his greatnefs
of foul, his fuperiority to pleafure, to toil, and to danger, his ar-
dent zeal for the liberty of his country ; when we fee him ftand-
ing unmoved in misfortunes, the laft pillar of the liberty of Rome,
and falling nobly in his country's ruin, who would not wifli to be
Cato rather than Cjesar in all his triumph ?

Such a fpeaacle of a great foul ftruggling with misfortune, Se-
NECA thought not unworthy of the attention of Jupiter himfelf,

Z z z z " Ecce

730

ESSAY viir.

CHAP. III. « Ecce fpedaculum Deo dignura, ad quod refpiciat Jupiter fuo
" operi intentus, vir fortis cum mala fortuna compofitus."

As the Deity is of all objeds of thought the mod grand, the de-
fcripiions given in holy writ of his attributes and works, even
when clothed in fimple expreffion, are acknowledged to be fu-
blime. The expreffion of Mofes, " And God faid, Let there be
" light, and there was light," has not efcaped the notice of LoN-
GiNUS, a Heathen Critic, as an example of the fublirae.

What we call fublime in defcription, or in fpeech of any kind,
is a proper expreffion of the admiration and enthufiafm which the
fubjedl produces in the mind of the fpeaker. If this admiration
and enthufiafm appears to be juft, it carries the hearer along with
it involuntarily, and by a kind of violence rather than by cool
convidion : For no paffions are fo infedious as thofe which hold
of enthufiafm.

But, on the other hand, if the paffion of the fpeaker appears to
be in no degree juflified by the fubje(fl or the occafion, it produ-
ces in the judicious hearer no other emotion but ridicule and
contempt.

The true fublime cannot be produced folely by art in the conv-
pofition ; it muft take its rife from grandeur in the fubjedl, and a
correfponding emotion raifed in the mind of the fpeaker. A pro-
per exhibition of thefe, though it ffiould be artlels, is irrefiftible,
like fire thrown into the midft of combuftible matter.

When we contemplate the earth, the fea, the planetary fyftem,
the univerfe, thefe are vaft objeds ; it requires a ftretch of imagi-
nation to grafp them in our minds. But they appear truly grand,
and merit the higheft admiration, when we confider them as the
work of God, who, in the fimple ftyle of fcripture, ftretched out

the

OF, GRANDEUR.

731

the heavens, and laid the foundation of the earth ; or, in the poe- chap. hi.
tical language of Milton,

In his hand
He took the golden compafles, prepar'd,
In God's eternal flore, to circumfcribe
This univerfe, and all created things.
One foot he center'd, and the other turn'd
Round thro' the vaft profundity obfcure ;
And faid, thus far extend, thus far thy bounds ;
This be thy juft circumference, O world.

When we contemplate the world of Epicurus, and conceive
the univerfe to be a fortuitous jumble of atoms, there is nothing
grand in this idea. The clalhing of atoms by blind chance has
nothing in it fit to raife our conceptions, or to elevate the mind.
But the regular ftrufture of a vaft fyftem of beings, produced by
creating power, and governed by the beft laws which perfed wif-
dom and goodnefs could contrive, is a fpedlacle which elevates the
underftanding, and fills the foul with devout admiration.

A great work is a work of great power, great wifdom, and great
goodnefs, well contrived for fome important end. But power,
wifdom, and goodnefs, are properly the attributes of mind only :
They are afcribed to the work figuratively, but are really inherent
in the aivthor : And, by the fame figure, the grandeur is afcribed
to the work, but is properly inherent in the mind that made it.

Some figures of fpeech are fo natural and fo common in all lan-
guages, that we are led to think them literal and proper expreflions.
Thus an a(5lion is called brave, virtuous, generous ; but it is evi-
dent, that valour, virtue, generofity, are the attributes of perfons
only, and not of actions. In the adlion confidered abfi:ra(5t]y, there
is neither valour, nor virtue, nor generoficy. The fame adlion
done from a different motive may deferve none of thofe epithets.

Z z z z 2 The

732 ESSAY VIII.

*-;^^^- ^^^•, The change in this cafe is not in the adtion, but in the agent ; yet,
in all languages, generofity and other moral qualities are afcribed
to adlions. By a figure, we afllgn to the effedl a quality which is
inherent only in the caufe.

By the fame figure, we afcribe to a work that grandeur which
properly is inherent in the mind of the author.

When we confider the Iliad as the work of the poet, its fublimi-
ty was really in the mind of Homer. He conceived great charac-
ters, great adlions, and great events, in a manner fuitable to their
nature, and with thofe emotions which they are naturally fitted to
produce ; and he conveys his conceptions and his emotions by the
mod proper figns. The grandeur of his thoughts is refleded to
our eye by his work, and therefore it is jullly called a grand work.

When we confider the things prefented to our mind in the Iliad,
without regard to the poet, the grandeur is properly in Hector
and Achilles, and the other great perfonages, human and divine,
brought upon the ftage.

Next to the Deity and his works, we admire great talents and
heroic virtue in men, whether reprefented in hiftory or in fic-
tion. The virtues of Cato, Aristides, Socrates, Marcus
AuRELius, are truly grand. Extraordinary talents and genius,
whether in Poets, Orators, Philofophers, or Lawgivers, are objedls
of admiration, and therefore grand. We find writers of fade
feized with a kind of enthufiafm in the defcription of fuch per-
fonages.

What a grand idea does Virgil give of the power of eloquence,
when he compares the terapeft of the fea, fuddenly calmed by the
command of Neptune, to a furious fedltion in a great city, quelled
at once by a man of authority and eloquence.

Sic

OF GRANDEUR.

73S

Sic alt, ac dldlocitius tumida xquora placat: CHAP, ill

Ac veluti magno in populo, fi forte coorta eft '

Seditio, faevitque animis Ignobile vulgus ;
Jamque faces et faxa volant, furor arma miniftrat ;
Turn pietate gravem, et meritis, fi forte virum queni
Confpexere, filent, arredifque auribus adftant.
Ille regit didlis animos, et pedlora mulcet.
Sic cundus pelagi cecidit fragor..

The wonderful genius of Sir Isaac Newton, and his fagacity
in difcovering the laws of Nature, is admirably expreffed in that
fhort but fublime epitaph by Pope :

Nature and Nature's laws lay Imi in night;
God faid, Let Newton be, and all was light.

Hitherto we have found grandeur only in qualities of mind ; but
it may be afked^ Is there no real grandeur in material objeds ?

It will perhaps appear extravagant to deny that there is ; yet it
deferves to be confidered, whether all the grandeur we afcribe to
objedls of fenfe be not derived from fomething intelleflual, of
which they are the effedls or figns, or to which they bear fome re-
lation or analogy.

Befides the relations of efFed and caufe, of fign and thing fig-
nlfied, there are Innumerable fimllltudes and analogies between
things of very different nature, which lead us to conned them In
our imagination, and to afcribe to the one what properly belongs
to the other.

Every metaphor In language Is an inftance of this ; and it muft
be remembered, that a very great part of language, which we
now account proper, was originally metaphorical ; for the meta-
phorical meaning becomes the proper as foon as it becomes die

mofl.

J

734

ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. III. mod ufual j much more, when that which was at firfl the proper
meaning falls into difufe.

The poverty of language, no doubt, contributes in part to the
ufe of metaphor ; and therefore we find the moft barren and un-
cultivated languages the moft metaphorical. But the moft copious
language may be called barren, compared with the fertility of hu-
man conceptions, and can never, without the ufe of figures, keep
pace with the variety of their delicate modifications.

But another caufe of the ufe of metaphor is, that we find plea-
fure in difcovering relations, fimilitudes, analogies, and even con-
trafts that are not obvious to every eye. All figurative fpeech pre-
fents fomething of this kind ; and the beauty of poetical language
feems to be derived in a great meafure from this fource.

Of all figurative language, that is the moft common, the moft
natural, and the moft agreeable, which either gives a body, if we
may fo fpeak, to things intelle(5lual, and clothes them with vifible
qualities ; or which, on the other hand, gives intelle(5lual quali-
ties to the objed\s of ienfe.

To beings of more exalted faculties, intelle<flual objects may
perhaps appear to moft advantage in their naked fimplicity. But
we can hardly conceive them but by means of fome analogy they
bear to the objedls of fenfe. The names we give them are almoft
all metaphorical or analogical.

Thus the names of grand and fublime, as well as their oppofites,
mean and low, are evidently borrowed from the dimenfions of bo-
dy ; yet it muft be acknowledged, that many things are truly
grand and fublime, to which we cannot afcribe the dimenfions of
height and extenfion.

Some analogy there is, without doubt, between greatnefs of di-

menfion.

O F G R A N D E U R. 735

menfion, which is an objedl of external fenfe, and that grandeur, ^HAP. iir.
which is an objedl of tafte. On account of this analogy, the laft
borrows its name from the firft; ; and the name being common,
leads us to conceive that there is fomething common in the nature
of the things.

But we fliall find many qualities of mind, denoted by names ta-
ken from fome quality of body to which they have fome analogy,
without any thing common in their of nature.

Sweetnefs and au-fterity, fimplicity and duplicity, rectitude and
crookednefs, are names common to certain qualities of mind, and
to qualities of body to which they have fome analogy ; yet he
would err greatly who afcribed to a body that fweetnefs or that
fimplicity which are the qualities of mind. In like manner, great-
nefs and meannefs are names common to qualities perceived by the
external fenfe, and to qualities perceived by tafte ; yet he may
be in an error, who afcribes to the obje(5ts of fenfe that greatnefs
or that meannefs, which is only an obje<5l of tafte.

As intelle<5lual objeds are made more level to our apprehenfion
by giving them a vifible form j fo the objedls of fenfe are dignified
and made more auguft, by afcribing to them intellectual qualities
which have fome analogy to thofe they really pofTefs. The fea rages,
the fky lowrs,the meadows fmile, the rivulets murmur, the breezes
whifper, the foil is grateful or ungrateful ; fuch expreflions are
fo familiar in common language, that they are fcarcely accounted
poetical or figurative ; but they give a kind of dignity to inani-
mate objeds, and make our conception, of them more agreeable.

When we confider matter as an inert, extended, divifible and
moveable fubftance, there feems to be nothing in thefe qualities
which we can call grand ; and when we afcribe grandeur to any
portion of matter, however modified, may it not borrow this quality
from fomething intellet^ual, of which, it is the effe<5l, or fign, or

inftrument,

73^ ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. Iir. inftrument, or to which it bears fome analogy ; or, perhaps,
becaufe it produces in the mind an emotion that has fome refem-
blance to that admiration which truly grand objedts raife ?

A very elegant writer on the fublime and beautiful, makes every
thing grand or fublime that is terrible. Might he not be led to
this by the fimilarity between dread and admiration ? Both are
grave and folemn pafTions ; both make a ftrong impreffion upon
the mind ; and both are very infecflious. But they differ fpecifi-
cally, in this refpedt, that admiration fuppofes fome uncommon
excellence in its objedl, which dread does not. We may admire
what we fee no reafon to dread ; and we may dread what we do
not admire. In dread, there is nothing of that enthufiafm which
naturally accompanies admiration, and is a chief ingredient of the
emotion raifed by what is truly grand or fublime.

Upon the whole, I humbly apprehend, that true grandeur is fuch
a degree of excellence as is fit to raife an enthufiaflical admira-
tion ; that this grandeur is found originally and properly in qua-
lities of mind ; that it is difcerned in objedls of fenfe only by
refledlion, as the light we perceive in the moon and planets is
truly the light of the fun ; and that thofe who look for grandeur
in mere matter, feek the living among the dead.

If this be a miflake, it ought at leafl to be granted, that the
grandeur which we perceive in qualities of mind, ought to have a
different name from that which belongs properly to the objeds of
fenfe, as they are very different in their nature, and produce very
different emotions in the mind of the fpe(5lator.

CHAP.

OF BEAUTY.

c H A p, rv.

Of Beauty.

BEAUTY is found In things fo various, and fo very difFerent
in nature, that it is difficult to fay wherein it confifts, or what
there can be common to all the objeds in which it is found.

; r
Of the obje<5ls of fenfe, we find beauty in colour, in found, in
form, in motion. There are beauties of fpeech, and beauties of
thought ; beauties in the arts, and in the fciences ; beauties in ac-
tions, in afFedlions, and in chara(5lers.

In things fo difFerent, and fo unlike, is there any quality, the
fame in all, which we may call by the name of beauty ? What
can it be that is common to the thought of a mind, and the form
of a piece of matter, to an abftra<fl theorem, and a flroke of wit ?

I am indeed unable to conceive any quality in all the different
things that are called beautiful, that is the fame in them all.
There feems to be no identity, nor even fimilarity, between the
beauty of a theorem and the beauty of a piece of mufic, though
both may be beautiful. The kinds of beauty feem to be as va-
rious as the objecfls to which it is afcribed.

But why {hould things fo different be called by the fame name ?
This cannot be without a reafon. If there be nothing common in
the things themfelves, they muft have fome common relation to
us, or to fomething elfe, which leads us to give them the fame
name.

All the objeds we call beautiful agree in two things, which

5 A feem

737

CHAP. IV.

738 ESSAY ^^1I.

CHAP. IV. {qq^i to concur in our fenfe of beauty. Firjl, When they are
perceived, or even imagined, they produce a certain agreeable
emotion or feeling in the mind ; and /eco/tdly^ This agreeable emo-
tion is accompanied with an opinion or belief of their having
fome perfedlion or excellence belonging to them.

Whether the pleafare we feel in contemplating beautiful objeds
may have any neceffary connedtion with the belief of their ex-
cellence, or whether that pleafure be conjoined with this belief,
by the good pleafure only of our Maker, I will not determine.
j» The reader may fee Dr Price's fentiments upon this fubjecl, which

merit confideration, in the fecond chapter of his Review of the
Queflions concerning Morals.

Though we may be able to conceive thefe two ingredients of
our fenfe of beauty disjoined, this affords no evidence that they
have no neceflary connedlion. It has indeed been maintained,
that whatever we can conceive, is poffible : But I endeavoured, in
treating of conception, -to (hbWj- that this opinion, though very
common, is a miftake* ■ Tlwre may be, and probably are, many
neceflary connexions of things in nature, which we are too dim-
. fighted to difcover.

The emotion produced by beautiful objeds is gay and pleafant.
It fwectens and humanifes the temper, is friendly to every benevo-
lent affed^ion, and tends to allay iuUen and- angry paflions. It en-
livens the mind, and difpofes it to other agreeable emotions, fuch
as thofe of love, hope, and joy. It gives a value to the objed, ab-
ftradled from its utility.

In things that may be poffefled as property, beauty greatly en-
hances the price. A beautiful dog €^- horfe, a beautiful coach or
houfe, a beautiful pidure or profped, is valued by its owner and
by others, not only for its utility, but for its beauty.

•.'W;iv.' '''nOC l'."^ 'j'f,' ii..

If

OF BEAUTY.

739

m

If the beautiful objed be a perfon, his company and converfa- CHAP. iv.
tion are, on that account, the more agreeable, and we are difpofed «,

to love and efteem him. Even in a perfedt ftranger, it is a power-
ful recommendation, and difpofes us to favour and think well of
him, if of our own fex, and ftill more if of the other.

" There is nothing, fays Mr Addison, that makes its way more
" diredly to the foul than beauty, which immediately difFufes
" a fecret fatisfadion and complacence through the imagina-
" tion, and gives a finifhing to any thing that is great and uncom-
" mon. The very firft difcovery of it ftrikes the mind with an
" inward joy, and fpreads a cheerfulnefs and delight through all Ik

" its faculties." ^

As we afcribe beauty, not only to perfons, but to inanimate
things, we give the name of love or liking to the emotion, which
beauty, in both thefe kinds of objedls, produces. It is evident,
however, that liking to a perfon is a very different afFe^lion of
mind from liking to an inanimate thing. The firfl always im-
plies benevolence ; but what is inanimate cannot be the obje<5t of
benevolence. The two affe(5lions, however different, have a re-
femblance in fome refpecfls ; and, on account of that refembiance,
have the fame name : And perhaps beauty, in thefe two different
kinds of objedls, though it has one name, may be as different in
its nature as the emotions which it produces in us.

Befides the agreeable emotion which beautiful obje6ls produce
in the mind of the fpedtator, they produce alfo an opinion or
judgment of fome perfedlion or excellence in the objetS. This I
take to be a fecond ingredient in our fenfe of beauty, though it
feems not to be admitted by modern Philofophers.

The ingenious Dr Hutcheson, who perceived fome of the de-
fers of Mr Locke's fyftem, and made very important improve-
ments upon it, feems to have been carried away by ir, in his no-

5 A 2 tion

♦^

*

740 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP, iv^ tiQi;^ of beauty. la his Inquiry concerning Bcaut^, Sei5l. i . " Let
" it be obferved, fays he, that, in the following papers, the word
" beauty is taken for the idea raifed in us, and the feiife of beauty
'** for our power of receiving that idea." And again ; *' Only
" let it be obferved, that, by abfolute or original beauty, ie not
" underftood any quality fuppofed to be in the objedl which
" jDhould, of itfelf, be beautiful, without relation to any mind
" which perceives it : For beauty, like othef names of fenfible
" ideas, properly denotes the perception of fome mind ; fo cold,
" hot, fweet, bitter, denote the fenfations in our minds, to which
'* perhaps there is no refemblance iti the objedls which excite thefd
•. ** ideas in us ; however, we generally imagine otherwife. Were

i " there no mind, with a fenfe of beauty, to contemplate obje(5ls,

" I fee not how they could be called beautiful."

There is no doubt an analogy between the external fenfes of

■* touch and tafte, and the internal fenfe of beauty. This analogy

'■'• led Dr Hutcheson, and other modern Philofophers, to apply to

beauty, what Des Cartes and Locke had taught concerning the

# fecondary qualities, perceived by the external fenfes.

Mr Locke's do<fl:rine concerning the fecondary qualities of bo-
dy, is not fo much an error in judgment as an abufe of words.
He diflinguilhed very properly between the fenfations we have
of heat and cold, and that quality or flrudure in the body
which is adapted by Nature to produce thofe fenfations in us. He
obferved very juflly, that there can be no firailitude between one
of thefe and the other. They have the relation of an effecl to its
eaufe, but no fimilitude. This was a very jufl and proper cor-
redlion of the dod^rine of the Peripatetics, who taught, that all our
fenfations are the very form and image of the quality in the ob-
* je(5l by which they are produced.

What remained to be determined was, whether the words, heat

and cold, in common language, fignify the fenfations we feel, or

• the

OF BEAUTY.

74»

the qualities of the obje<fl which are the caufc of thefe fenfations. CHAP, iv.

Mr LocK£ made heat and cold to fignify only the fenfations we

feel, and not the qualities which are the caufe of them. And in

this, I apprehend, lay his miflake. For it is evident, from the ufe

of language, that hot and cold, fweet and bitter, are attribuoes of

external objeds, and not of the perfon who perceives them.

Hence, it appears a monftrous paradox to fay, there is no heat in

the fire, no fweetnefs in fugar : But, when explained according to

Mr Locke's meaning, it is only, like moft other paradoxes, an

abufe of words.

The fenfe of beauty may be analyfed in a manner very fimilar,
to the fenfe of fweetnefs. It is an agreeable feeling or emotion,
accompanied with an opinion or judgment of fome excellence in
the obje(^, which is fitted by Nature to produce that feeling.

The feeling is, no doubt, in the mind, and fo alfb is the judg-
ment we form of the objedl : But this judgment, like all others^
muft be true or falfe. If it be a true judgment, there is fome
real excellence in the objcft. And the ufe of all languages fhows,
that the name of beauty, belongs to this excellence of the objedt,
and not to the feelings of the fpedtator.

To fay that there is in reality no beauty in thofe objeds ia
which all men perceive beauty, is to attribute to man fallacious
fenfes. But we have no ground to think fo difrefpecHifully of the
Author of our being ; the faculties he hath given us ai"e not falla-
cious ; nor is that beauty, which he hath fo liberally diffufed over
all the works of his hands, a mere fancy in us, but a real excel-
lence in his works, which exprefs the perfedion of their Divine
Author.

We have reafbn to believe, not only that the beauties we fee in
nature are real, and not fanciful, but that there are thoufands
which our faculties are too dull to perceive. We fee many beau-

tLeSy

(»

t

742 ESSAY Vlir.

CHAP. IV. jjgg^ both of human and divine art, which the brute animals are
incapable of perceiving ; and fuperior beings may excel us as far
in their difcernment of true beauty as we excel the brutes.

The man who is flcilled in painting or flatuary, fees more of the
beauty of a fine pidlure or flatue than a common fpedlator. The
fame thing holds in all the fine arts. The moft perfedl works of
art have a beauty that ftrikes even the rude and ignorant ; but
they fee only a fmall part of that beauty which is feen in fuch
works by thofe who underfland them perfedly, and can produce
^ them.

1^ This may be applied with no lefs juftice to the works of Nature.

They have a beauty that ftrikes even the ignorant and inattentive.
But the more we difcover of their ftrudlure, of their mutual rela-
tions, and of the laws by which they are governed, the greater
beauty, and the more delightful marks of art, wifdom and good-
nefs, we difcern,

« Thus the expert Anatomifl fees numberlefs beautiful contrivan-

ces in the flrucflure of the human body, which are unknown to
the ignorant.

Although the vvilgar eye fees much beauty in the face of the hea-
vens, and in the various motions and changes of the heavenly bodies,
the expert Aftronomer, who knows their order and diftances, their
periods, the orbits they defcribe in the vaft regions of fpace, and
the fimple and beautiful laws by which their motions are govern-
ed, and all the appearances of their ftations, progreffions, and re-
trogradations, their eclipfes, occultations, and tranfits are produced,
fees a beauty, order, and harmony reign through the whole pla-
netary fyftcm, which delights the mind. The eclipfes of the fun
and moon, and the blazing tails of comets, which ftrike terror in-
to barbarous nations, furnifh the moft pleafmg entertainment to

his eye, and a feaft to his underftanding.

In

O F B E A U T Y. 743

In every part of Nature's works, there are numberlefs beauties, chap. iv.
which, on account of our ignorance, we are unable to perceive.
Superior beings may fee more than we ; but he only who made
them, and, upon a review, pronounced them all to be very good,
can fee all their beauty.

Our determinations with regard to the beauty of objecls, may,
I think, be diflinguifhed into two kinds ; the firll we may call in-
ftinctive, the other rational.

Some objecls ftrike us at once, and appear beautiful at firfl
fight, without any refledionj without our being able to fay why
we call them beautiful, or being able to fpecify any perfection r
which juftifies our judgment. Something of this kind there feems
to be in brute animals, and in children before the ufe of reafon ;
nor does it end with infancy, but continues through life.

In the plumage of birds, and of butterflies, in the colours and Mf-'

form of flowers, of fliells, and of many other objects, we per-
ceive a beauty that delights ; but cannot fay what it is in the ob- v
jed that fhould produce that emotion.

The beauty of the objedl may in fuch cafes be called an occult
quality. We know well how it aflfedls our fenfes ; but what it is
in itfelf we know not. But this, as well as other occult qualities,
is a proper fubjedl of philofophical difquifition ; and, by a care-
ful examination of the objects to which Nature hath given this
amiable quality, we may perhaps difcover fome feal excellence in
the objed, or, at lead, fome valuable purpofe that is ferved by
the effed which it produces upon us.

This inflindive fenfe of beauty, in different fpecles of animals,
may differ as much as the external fenfe of rafte, and in each fpe-
cies be adapted to its manner of life. By this perhaps the various
tribes are led to affociate with their kind, to dwell among certain

objeds

.4

>*»

744 ESSAY VIII.

^•^I^Il^ objeds rather than others, and to conftrudl their habitation in a
particular manner.

There feem Hkewife to be varieties in the fenfe of beauty in the
individuals of the fame fpecies, by which they are directed in the
choice of a mate, and in the love and care of their offspring.

" We fee," fays Mr Addison, " that every different fpecies of
" fenfible creatuies has its different notions of beauty, and that
" each of them is mod affe^fled with the beauties of its own kind.
" This is no where more remarkable than in birds of the fame
*' fhape and proportion, where we often fee the mate determined in
" his courtfhip by the fingle grain or tindlure of a feather, and
" never difcovering any charms but in the colour of its own
" fpecies."

" Scit thalamo fervare fidem, fandlafque veretur

" Connubii leges ; non ilium in pec5lore candor

" Sollicitac niveus ; neque pravura^ accendit amorem'

" Splendida lanugo, vel honefta in vertice criila j

" Purpureufve nitor pennarum ; aft agmina late

" Fceminea explorat cautus, maculafque requiric

" Cognatas, paribufque interlita corpora guttis :

" Ni facere;, pidlis fylvam circum undique monftris

" Confufam afpiceres vulgo, partufque biformes,

" Et genus ambiguum, et veneris monumenta nefanda:.

" Hinc raerula in nlgro fe obleclat nigra marito ;
Hinc focium lafciva petit philomela canorum,
Agnofcitque pares fonitus ; hinc nodlua tetram
" Canitiem alarum, et glaucos miratur ocellos.
" Nempe fibi femper con flat, crefcitque quotannis
" Lucida progenies, caftos confeffa parentes :
" Vere novo exultat, plumafque decora juventus
" Explicat ad folem, patriifque coloribus ardet."

In

OF BEAUTY.

745

In the human kind there are varieties in the tafle of beaut)', CHAP. iv.
of which we can no more aflign a reafon than of the variety of
their features, though it is eafy to perceive that very important
ends are anfwered by both. Thefe varieties are mod obfervable
in the judgments we form of the features of the other fex ; and in
this the intention of Nature is mod apparent.

As far as our determinations of the comparative beauty of ob-
jeds are inflindive, they are no fubjed of reafoning or of criti-
cifm ; they are purely the gift of Nature, and we have no flandard
by which they may be meafured.

But there are judgments of beauty that may be called rational,
being grounded on fome agreeable quality of the objed which is
diftindlly conceived, and may be fpecified. •

This diftindlion between a rational judgment of beauty and
that which is inftindlive, may be illuftrated by an inftance.

In a heap of pebbles, one that is remarkable for brilliancy
of colour and regularity of figure, will be picked out of the heap
by a child. He perceives a beauty in it, puts a value upon it,
and is fond of the property of it. For this preference, no reafon
can be given, but that children are, by their conftitution, fond of
brilliant colours, and of regular figures.

Suppofe again that an expert mechanic views a well conftrudled
machine. He fees all its parts to be made of the fitted materials,
and of the mod proper form ; nothing fuperfluous, nothing de-
ficient ; every part adapted to its ufe, and the whole fitted in the
mod perfedl manner to the end for which it is intended. He pro-
nounces it to be a beautiful machine. He views it with the fame
agreeable emotion as the child viewed the pebble ; but he can give
a reafon for his judgment, and point out the particular perfedions
of the objed on which it is grpunded.

5 B Although

746 E S S' A Y VlII.

CHAP. IV. Although the inflindive and the rational fenfe of beauty may
be perfciHily diflinguiflicd in fpeculatlon, yet, in paiTing judgment
upon particular objedls, they are often fo mixed and confounded,
that it is diflBcult to affign to each its own province. Nay, it may
often happen, that a judgment of the beauty of an objetft, which
was at firft merely inflindlive, fhall afterwards become rational,
when we difcover fome latent perfedlion of which that beauty ip
the obje(5l is a fign.

As the fenfe of beauty may be diflinguiflicd into inft;in<51iv'e
and rational ; fo I think beauty itfelf may be diflingui&ed into
origijial and derived.

As fome objedls fhine by their own light, and many more by-
light that is borrowed and reflected ; fo I conceive the lufli-e of
beauty in fome objedls is inherent and original, and in many
others is borrowed and reflected.

There is nothing more common in the fentiments of all man-
kind, and in the language of all nations, than what may be called
a communication of attributes; that is, transferring an attribute;
from the fubjed to which it properly belongs, to fome related or
refembling fubje<5t.

The various objcdls which Nature prefents to our view, even
thofe that are mofl: difli^erent in kind, have innumerable fimili-
tudes, relations, and analogies, which we contemplate with plca-
fure, and which lead us naturally to borrow words and attributes
from one objedl to exprefs what belongs to- another. The greateft
part of every language under heaven is made up of words bor-
rowed from one thing, and applied to fomething fuppofed to have
fome relation or analogy to their firft fignification. •

The attributes of body we afcribe to mind, and the attributes
of mind to material objects. To inanimate things wc afcfibe life,

and

OF BEAUTY.

747

and even irttelledual and moral qualities. And although the qua- ^hap. iv.
lities that are thus made common belong to one of the fubjecfts in
the proper fenfe, and to the other metaphorically, thefe different
fenfes are often fo mixed in our imagination, as to produce the '
fame fentiment with regard to both.

It is therefore natural, and agreeable to the ftrain of human
fentiments and of human language, that in many cafes the beauty
which originally and properly is in the thing fignified, fhould be
transferred to the fign ; that which is in the caufe to the effed ;
tliat which is in the end to the means ; and that which is in the
agent to the inftrument.

If what was faid in the laft chapter of the diftin<5lion between
the grandeur which we afcribe to qualities of mind, and that
which we afcribe to material obje6ls, be well founded, this diftinc-
tion of the beauty of obje«5ls will eafily be admitted as perfecflly
analogous to it. I fliall therefore only illu (Irate it by an example.

There is nothing in the exterior of a man more lovely and more
attradlive than perfecfl good breeding. But what is this good
breeding ? It confifts of all the external figns of due refpedt to
our fuperiors, c^jndefcenfion to our inferiors, politenefs to all with
whom we converfe or have to do, joined in the fair fex with that
delicacy of outward behaviour which becomes them. And how
comes it to have fuch charms in the eyes of all mankind ? For
tiiis reafon only, as I apprehend, that it is a natural fign of that
temper, and thofe affections and fentiments with regard to others,
and with regard to ourfelves, which are in themfelves truly
amiable and beautiful.

This is the original, of which good breeding is the pidure ;
and it is the beauty of the original that is refledled to our fenfe by
the pidlure. The beauty of good breeding, therefore, is not ori-
ginally in the external behaviour in which it confifts, but is deri-

5 B 2 ved

748 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. IV. ye(j from the qualities of mind which it expreflfes. And though
there may be good breeding without the amiable qualities of mind,
its beauty is ftill derived from what it naturally exprefles.

Having explained thefe diftindlions of our fenfe of beauty into
inftin^tive and rational, and of beauty icfelf into original and de-
rived, I would now proceed to give a general view of thofe quali-
ties in objeifls, to which we may juftly and rationally afcribe beau-
ty, whether original or derived.

But here fome embarrafTment arifes from the vague meaning of
the word beauty, which I had occafion before to obferve.

Sometimes it is extended, fo as to include every thing that pleafes
a good tafte, and fo comprehends grandeur and navelty, as well
as what in a more reftridled fenfe is called beauty. At other times,
it is even by good writers confined to the objedls of fight, when
they are either feen, or remembered, or imagined. Yet it is ad-
mitted by all men, that there are beauties in mufic ; that there is
beauty as well as fublimity in compofition, both in verfe and in
profe ; that there is beauty in charatfters, in afFedions, and in ac-
tions. Thefe are not objeds of fight; and a. man may be a good
judge of beauty of various kinds, who has not the faculty of fight.

To give a determinate meaning to a word fo varioufly extended
and reftridled, I know no better way than what is fuggefted by the
common divifion of the objedls of tafte into novelty, grandeur,
and beauty. Novelty, it is plain, is no quality of the new objecSl,
but merely a relation which it has to the knowledge of the per-
fon to whom it is new. Therefore, if this general divifion bejuft,
every quality in an ohjecSl that pleafes a good tafte, muft, in one
degree or another, have either grandeur or beauty. It may ftill
be difficult to fix the precife limit betwixt grandeur and beauty y
but they muft together comprehend every thing fitted by its na-
ture to pleafe a good tafle, that is, every real perfe(5tion and excel-
lence in the objects we contemplate.

Ih:

Of beauty.

In a poem, in a pidure, in a piece of mufic, it is real excellence
that pleafes a good tafte. In a perfon, every perfedion of the
mind, moral or intelledlual, and every perfedion of the body,
gives pleafure to the fpedlator as well as to the owner, when there
is no envy nor malignity to deflroy that pleafure.

It is therefore in the fcale of perfedion and real excellence that
we muft look for what is either grand or beautiful in objeds.
What is the proper objed of admiration is grand, and what is the
proper objedl of love and efleem is beautiful.

This, I think, is the only notion of beauty that correfponds
with the divifion of the objeds of tafte which has been generally
received by Philofophers. And this connedion of beauty, with
real perfedion, was a capital dodrine of the Socratic fchool. It is
often afcribed to Socrates in the dialogues of PlatO and of
Xenophon.

"We may therefore take a view, ftrft, of thofe qualities of mind
to which we may juflly and rationally afcribe beauty, and then of
the beauty we perceive in the objeds of fenfe. We Ihall find, if I ■:
miftake not, that, in the firfl:, original beauty is to be found, and'
that the beauties of the fecond clafs are derived from fome relation
they bear to mind, as the figns or expreffions of fbme amiable men-
tal quality, or as the effeds of defign, art, and wife contrivance.

As grandeur naturally produces admiration, beauty. naturally
produces love. We may therefore jullly afcribe beauty to thofe
qualities which are the natural objeds of love and kind affedion.

Of this kind chiefly are fome of the moral virtues, which in a

peculiar manner conftitute a lovely charader. Innocence, gentle-

nefs, condefcenfion, humanity, natural affedion, public fpirit, and

the whole train of the foft and gentle virtues. Thefe qualities are

amiable from their very nature, and on account of their intrinfic

worth. .

There

750

ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. IV. There are other virtues that raife admiration, and are therefore
grand ; fuch as magnanimity, fortitude, felf-command, fuperiori-
ty to pain and labour, fuperiority to pleafure, and to the fmiies of
" fortune as well as to her frowns.

Thefe awful virtues conftitute what is mofl grand in the human
charadler ; the gentle virtues, what is mofl; beautiful and lovely.
As they are virtues, they draw the approbation of our moral fa-
culty ; as they are becoming and amiable, they affedl our fenfe of
beauty.

Next to the amiable moral virtues, there are many incelledlual
talents which have an intrinfic value, and draw our love and efl:eem.
to thofe who pofTefs them. Such are, knowledge, good fenfe, wit,
humour, cheerfulnefs, good tafte, excellence in any of the fine
arts, in eloquence, in dramatic adlion ; and we may add, excel-
lence in every art of peace or war that is ufeful in fociety.

There are likewife talents which we refer to the body, which
have an original beauty and comelinefs ; fuch as health, fl:rength,
and agility, the ufual attendants of youth ; fkill in bodily exer-
cifes, and fkill in the mechanic arts. Thefe are real perfections of
the man, as they increafe his power, and render tlie body a fit in-
fl;rument for the mind.

I apprehend, therefore, that it is in the moral and intelledlual
perfedlions of mind, and in its adive powers, that beauty original-
ly dwells ; and that from this as the fountain, all the beauty which
we perceive in the vifible world is derived.

This, I think, was the opinion of the ancient Philofophers be-
fore named ; and it has been adopted by Lord Sn AFT£SBURy and
Dr A«£NSID£ among the modems.

".Mind,

OF BEAUTY.

751

" Mind, mind alone ! bear wicnefs earth aivi heav'n, ^H^^- 1^'-

The living fountains in itfelf contains
" Of beauteous and fublime. Here hand in hand
" Sit paramount the graces. Here enthron'd,
" Celeflial Venus, with divineft airs,
" Invites the foul to never-fading joy." Akenside.

But neither mind, nor any of its qualities or powers, is an im-
mediate objecfl of perception to man. We are, indeed, immediate-
ly confcious of the operations of our own mind ; and every degree
of perfedion in them gives the pureft pleafure, with a proportional
degree of felf-efteero, fo flattering to felf-love, that the great diffi-
culty is to keep it within jufl bounds, fo that we may not think of
Gurfelves above what we ought to think.

Other minds we perceive only through the medium of material
objedls, on which their fignatures are imprefled. It is through
this medium that we perceive life, aiflivity, wifdom, and every
moral and intellectual quality in other beings. The figns of thofe
qualities are immediately perceived by the fenfes ; by them the
qualities themfelves are refleded to our underftanding ; and we
are very apt to attribute to the fign the beauty or the grandeur,
which is properly and originally in the things fignified.

The invifrble Creator, the Fountain of all perfe(5lion, hath flamp-
ed upon all his works fignatures of his divine wifdom, power, and
benignity, which are vifible to all men. The works of men in
fcience, in the arts oftafte, and in the mechanical arts, bear the
fignatures of thofe qualities of mind which were employed in
their produdlion. Their external behaviour and condud in Kfe
exprefTes the good or bad qualities of their mind.

In every fpecies of animals, we perceive by vifible figns their in- .
ftindls, their appetites, their affeaions, their fagacity. Even in

the

752

ESSAY viir.

CHAP^iv. tiie inanimate world there are many things analogous to the qua-
lities of mind ; fo that there is hardly any thing belonging to mind
which may not be reprefented by images taken from the objedls of
fenfe ; and, on the other hand, every object of fenfe is beautified,
by borrowing attire from the attributes of mind.

Thus the beauties of mind, though invifible in themfelves, are
perceived in the objedls of fenfe, on which their image is imprefled.

If we confider, on the other hand, the qualities in fenfible ob-
jedls to which we afcribe beauty, I apprehend we fliall find in all
of them fome relation to mind, and the greateft in thofc that are
mod beautiful.

When we confider inanimate matter abftraclly, as a fubftance
endowed with the qualities of extenfion, folidity, divifibility, and
mobility, there feems to be nothing in thefe qualities that aflfedls
our fenfe of beauty. But when we contemplate the globe which
we inhabit, as fitted by its form, by its motions, and by its fur-
niture, for the habitation and fupport of an infinity of various or-
ders of living creatures, from the loweft reptile up to man, we
have a glorious fpeclacle indeed ! with which the grandefl; and the
moft beautiful flrudures of human art can bear no comparifon.

The only perfedlion of dead matter Is its being, by its various
forms and qualities, fo admirably fitted for the purpofes of ani-
mal life, and chiefly that of man. k furniihes the materials of
every art that tends to the fupport or the embellilhment of human
life. By the Supreme Artift, it is organifed in the various tribes
of the vegetable kingdom, and endowed with a kind of life ; a
work which human art cannot imitate, nor human underftanding
comprehend.

In the bodies and various organs of the animal tribes, there is
■a. compofition of matter ftill more wonderful and more myflerious,

though

O F B E A U T Y. 753

though we fee it to be admirably adapted to the purpofes and CHAP.iv.
manner of life of every fpecies. But in every form, unorganifed,
vegetable, or animal, it derives its beauty from the purpofes to
which it is fubfervient, or from the figns of wifdom, or of
other mental qualities which it exhibits.

The qualities of inanimate matter, in which we perceive beauty,
are, found, colour, form, and motion ; the firft an objed of hear-
ing, the other three of fight ; which we may confider in order.

In a fingle note, founded by a very fine voice, there is a beauty
which we do not perceive in the fame note, founded by a bad
voice, or an imperfedl inflrument. I need not attempt to enume-
rate the perfeiflions in a fingle note, which give beauty to it.
Some of them have names in the fcience of mufic, and there per-
haps are others which have no names. But I think it will be al-
lowed, that every quality which gives beauty to a fingle note, is a
fign of fome perfedlion, either in the organ, whether it be the hu-
man voice or an inftrument, or in the execution. The beauty of
the found is both the fign and the effe(fl of this perfedlion ; and
the perfedlion of the caufe is the only reafon we can aflign for the
beauty of the effe<5l.

In a compofition of founds, or a piece of mufic, the beauty is
eitlier in the harmony, the melody, or the expreffion. The
beauty of expreffion muft be derived, either from the beauty of the
thing expreflTed, or from the art and fkill employed in exprefling it
properly. •

In harmony, the very names of concord and difcord are meta-
phorical, and fuppofe fome analogy between the relations of found,
to which they are, figuratively applied, and the relations of minds
and affedlions, which they originally and properly fignify.

As far as I can judge by my ear, when two or more perfons of

5C a

754

ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. IV. a good voice and ear, converfe together in amity and friendflxip,.
the tones of their diiFerent voices are concordant, but become dif-
cordant when they give vent to angry paffions ; (6 that, without
hearing what is faid, one may know by the tones of the different
voices, whether they quarrel or converfe amicably. This, indeed,
is not fo eafily perceived in thofe who have been taught, by good-
breeding, to fupprefs angry tones of voice, even when they are
angry, as in the lowefl rank, who exprefs their angry paflions
without any reftraint.^

When difcord arifes occafionally in converfation, but foon ter-
minates in perfedl amity, we receive more pleafure than from per-
fe6l unanimity. In like manner, in the harmony of mufic, dif-
cordant founds are occafionally introduced, but it is always in or-
der to give a relifh to the moft perfedl concord that follows.

Whether thefe analogies, between the harmony of a piece of
mufic, and harmony in the intercourfe of minds, be merely fan-
ciful, or have any real foundation in fadt, I fubmit to thofe who
have a nicer ear, and have applied it to obfervations of this kind.
If they have any juil foundation, as they feem to me to have, they
ferve to account for the metaphorical application of the names of
concord and difcord to the relations of founds ; to account for the
pleafure we have from harmony in mufic ; and to (how, that the
beauty of harmony is derived from the relation it has to agree-
able affedions of mind.

With regard to melody, I leave it to the adepts in the fclence of
mufic, to determine, whether mufic, compofed according to the
eftablifhed rules of harmony and melody, can be altogether void
of expreffion ; and whether mufic that has no expreflion can have
any beauty. To me it feems, that every ftrain in melody that
is agreeable, is an imitation of the tones of the human voice in
the expreffion of fome fentiment or pafllon, or an imitation of
fome other obje<5l in nature ; and that mufic, as well as poetry, is
an imitative art.

The

OF BEAUTY. 7^5

The fenfe of beauty in the colours, and in the motions of ina- CHAP. iv.
nimate objeds, is, I beUeve, in fome cafes inftinaive. We fee, ' "^
that children and favages are pleafed with brilliant colours and
fprightly motions. In perfons of an improved and rational tafte,
there are many fources from which colours and motions may de-
rive their beauty. They, as well as the forms of objefls, admit
of regularity and variety. The motions produced by machinery,
indicate the perfedlion or imperfedlion of the mechanifm, and may
be better or worfe adapted to their end, and from that derive their
beauty or deformity.

The colours of natural objeds, are commonly figns of fome
good or bad quality in the objedl ; or they may fuggeft to the
imagination fomething agreeable or difagreeable.

In drefs and furniture, falhion has a confidcrable influence on
the preference we give to one colour above another.

A number of clouds of different and ever-changing hue, feen on
the ground of a ferene azure flcy at the going down of the
fun, prefent to the eye of every man a glorious fpedlacle. It is
hard to fay, whether we Ihould call it grand or beautiful. It is
both in a high degree. Clouds towering above clouds, varioufly
tinged, according as they approach nearer to the diredl rays of the
fun, enlarge our conceptions of the regions above us. They give
us a view of the furniture of thofe regions, which, in an un-
clouded air, feem to be a perfedl void ; but are now feen to con-
tain the (lores of wind and rain, bound up for the prefent, but to
be poured down upon the earth in due feafon. Even the fimple
ruftic does not look upon this beautiful fky, merely as a fliow
to pleafe the eye, but as a happy omen of fine weather to come.

The proper arrangement of colour, and of light and fliade, is
one of the chief beauties of painting ; but this beauty is grcateft,
when that arrangement gives the moft diftinfl, the mod natural,

5 C a and

756 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. IV. and the mofl agreeable image of that which the painter intended
to reprefenr.

If we confider, in the laft place, the beauty of form or figure in
inanimate objeifls, this, according to Dr Hutcheson, refults from
regularity, mixed with variety. Here it ought to be obferved,
that regularity, in all cafes, exprefles defign and art : For nothing
regular was ever the work of chance ; and where regularity is
joined with variety, it exprefles defign more ftrongly. Befides, it
has been juftly obferved, that regular figures are more eafily and
more perfedlly comprehended by the mind than the irregular, of
which we can never form an adequate conception.

Although ftraight lines and plain furfaces have a beauty from
their regularity, they admit of no variety, and therefore are beau-
ties of the lowed order. Curve lines and furfaces admit of infi-
nite variety, joined with every degree of regularity ; and therefore,
in many cafes, excel in beauty thofe that are ftraight.

But the beauty arifing from regvilarity and variety, muft al-
ways yield to that which arifes from the fitnefs of the form for
the end intended. In every thing made for an end, the form mufl
be adapted to that end ; and every thing in the form that fuits
the end, is a beauty ; every thing that unfits it for its end, is a
deformity.

The forms of a pillar, of a fword, and of a balance are very
different. Each may have great beauty ; but that beauty is de-
rived from the fitnefs of the form, and of the matter for the
purpofe intended.

Were we to confider the form of the earth itfelf, and the various
furniture it contains, of the inanimate kind ; its diftribution into
land and fea, mountains and valleys, rivers and fprings of water, the
variety of foils that cover its furface, and of mineral and metallic

fub fiances

O F B E A U T Y. 7^7

fubflances laid up within it, the air that furrounds it, the viciffi- CHAP. iv.
tudes of day and night, and of the feafons ; the beauty of all thefe,
which indeed is fnperlative, confifls in this, that they bear the moft
lively and flriking impreffion of the wifdom and goodnefs of their
Author, in contriving them fo admirably for the ufe of man, and
of their other inhabitants. ,>i •,;.,,>,.;•,..•- ,

The beauties of the vegetable kingdom are far fuperior to thofe
of inanimate matter, in any form which human art can give it,'
Hence, in all ages, men have been fond to adorn their perfons and
their habitations with the vegetable produdions of nature.' '

The beauties of the field, of the foreft, and of the flower-garden'i
flrike a child long before he can reafon. He is delighted with
what he fees ; but he knows not why. This is inft;tn(5t, but it is
not confined to childhood j it continues through all the (tages of
life. It leads the Florid, the Botanift, the Philofopher, to^ Examine
and compare the objedls which Nature, by this powerful inftindt,
recommends to his attention. By degrees, he becomes a Critic in
beauties of this kind, and can give a reafon why he prefers one to
another. In ' every fpccies, he fees the greateft beauty in the
plants or flowers that are moft perfedl in their kind, which have
neither fuffered from unkindly foil, nor inclement weather; which
have not been robbed of their nourllhment by other plants, iior
hurt by any accident. When he examines the internal ftrucfture
of thofe pfodudliohs of Nature, and traces them from their em-
bryo ftale in the feed to their maturity, he fees a thoufand beau-
tiful contrivances of Nature, which feaft his underftanding more
than their external form delighted his eye.'-^'"''*" -•''■

Thus, every beauty in the vegetable creation, of which he has
formed any rational judgment, expreffes fome perfe(ftion in the
objedl, or fome wife contrivance in its Author.

}a the animal kingdom, we perceive ftill'^ca^r beaimes' th'Sn

in

758 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP, iv.^ JQ tiie vegetable. Here we obferve life, and fenfe, and adlivity,
various inftindls and affedlons, and, in many cafes, great fagacity.
Thefe are attributes of mind, and have an original beauty.

As we allow to brute animals a thinking principle or mind,
though far inferior to that which is in man ; and as, in many of
their intelledlual and adive powers, they very much refemble the
human fpecies, their a(5lions, their motions, and even their looks,
derive a beauty from the powers of thought which they exprefs.

There is a wonderful variety in theh" manner of life ; and we
find the powers they pofTefs, their outward form, and their inward
flrudure, exadly adapted to it. In every fpecies, the more per-
fedly any individual is fitted for its end and manner of hfe, the
greater is its beauty.

In a race-horfe, every thing that exprefles agility, ardour, and
emulation, gives beauty to the animal. In a pointer, acutenefs of
fcent, eagernefs on the game, and tra<5lablenefs, are the beauties of
the fpecies. A flieep derives its beauty from the finenefs and quan-
tity of its fleece ; and in the wild animals, every beauty is a fign
of their perfexflion in their kind.

It is an obfervation of the celebrated Linnjeus, that, in the
-vegetable kingdom, the poifonous plants have commonly a lurid
and difagreeable appearance to the eye, of which he gives many
inftances. I apprehend the obfervation may be extended to the
animal kingdom, in which we commonly fee fomething fliocking
to the eye in the noxious and poifonous animals.

The beauties which Anatomifts and Phyfiologifts defcribe in the
internal ftrudure of the various tribes of animals ; in the organs
of fenfe, of nutrition, and of motion, are exprefTive of wife defign
and contrivance, in fitting them for the various kinds of life for
which tliey are intended.

Thus,

O F B E A U T Y. 7^5

Thus, I think, it appears, that the beauty which we perceive in <^"^^- ^^•
the inferior animals, is expreffive, either of fuch perfedions as ' ' '
their feveral natures may receive, or expreffive of wife defign in
him who made them, and that their beauty is derived from the
perfedions which it exprefTcs.

But of all the objeds ef fenfe, the moft ftriking and attradive
beauty is perceived in the human fpecies, and particularly in the
fair fex.

Milton reprefents Satan himfelf, in furveying the furniture of
this globe, as ftruck with the beauty of the firft happy pair.

Tvvo of far nobler fhape, ered and tall.
Godlike eredl ! with native honour clad
In naked majefby, feem'd lords of all.
And worthy feem'd, for in their looks divine,
The image of their glorious Maker, Ihone
Truth, wifdom, fanditude fevere, and pure ;
Severe, but in true filial freedom plac'd,
"Whence true authority in man ; though both
Not equal, as their fex not equal feem'd,
For contemplation he, and valour form'd,
For foftnefs flie, and fweet attradive grace.

In this well known pafFage of Milton, we fee that this great
Poet derives the beauty of the firft pair in Paradife from thofe ex-
prefTions of moral and intellediial qualities which appeared in
their outward form and demeanour.

The moft minute and fyftematical account of beauty in the hu-
man fpecies, and particularly in the fair fex, I have met with, is
in Crita ; or, a Dialogue on Beauty, faid to be written by the author
oi Poly metis, and republifhcd by Dodsley in his coUedion of fu-
gitive pieces.

li

76o ESSAY VIII.

CHAP- IV. I fjiaii borrow from that author fome obfervations, which, I
think, tend to fhow that the beauty of the human body is derived
from the figns it exhibits of fome perfedlion of the mind or perfon.

All that can be called beauty in the human fpecies may be re-
duced to thefe four heads ; colour, form, exprefhon, and grace.
The two former may be called the body, the two latter the foul
of beauty.

The beauty of colour is not owing folely to the natural liveli-
nefs of flefh-colour and red, nor to the much greater charms they
receive from being properly blended together ; but is alfo owing,
in fome degree, to the idea they carry with them of good health,
without which all beauty grows languid and lefs engaging, and
■with which it always recovers an additional ftrength and luftre.
This is fupported by the authority of Cicero. Venujias ct pulchri-
tudo corporis fecerni non poteji a valctudine.

Here I obferve, that as the colour of the body is very different
in different climates, every nation preferring the colour of its cli-
mate ; and as among us one man prefers a fair beauty, another a
brunette, without being able to give any reafon for this preference i
this diverfity of tafte has no ftandard in the common principles
of human nature, but mufl arife from fomething that is different
in different nations, and in different individuals of the fame nation.

I obferved before, that fafliion, habit, affociations, and perhaps
fome peculiarity of conftitution, may have great influence upon
this internal fenfe, as well as upon the external. Setting afide the
judgments arifing from fuch caufes, there feems to remain nothing
that, according to the common judgment of mankind, can be
called beauty in the colour of the fpecies, but what expreffes per-
fedl health and livelinefs, and in the fair fex fofcnefs and delica-
cy ; and nothing that can be called deformity but what indicates
difeafe and decline. And if this be fo, it follows, that the beauty

of

OF BEAUTY.

761

of colour is derived from the perfeaions which it exprefles. This CHAP. iv.
however, of all the ingredients of beauty, is the leaft. ' ^~^

The next in order is form, or proportion of parts. The moft
beautiful form, as the author thinks, is that which indicates deli-
cacy and foftnefs in the fair fex, and in the male either ftrength
or agility. The beauty of form, therefore, Hes all in expreflion.

The third ingredient, which has more power than either colour
or form, he calls expreflion, and obferves, that it is only the ex-
preflion of the tender and kind pafllons that gives beauty ; that all
the cruel and unkind ones add to deformity ; and that, on this ac-
count, good nature may very juftly be faid to be the beft feature,
even in the fineft face. Modefty, fenfibility, and fweetnefs, blend-
ed together, fo as either to enliven or to corredl each other, give
almoft as much attra(5lion as the pafllons are capable of adding
to a very pretty face.

It is owing, fays the author, to the great force of pleafingnefs
which attends all the kinder pafllons, that lovers not only feem,
but really are, more beautiful to each other than they are to the
reft of the world ; becaufe, when they are together, the moft plea-
fing pafllons are more frequently exerted in each of their faces
than they are in either before the reft of the world. There is
then, as a French author very well exprefles it, a foul upon their
countenances, which does not appear when they are abfent from
one another, or even in company that lays a reftraint upon their
features.

There is a great difference in the fame face, according as the
perfon is in a better or a worfe humour, or more or lefs lively.
The beft complexion, the fineft features, and the exadeft fliape,
without any thing of the mind expreflfed in the face, is infipid
and unmoving. The fineft eyes in the world, with an excefs of
malice or rage in them, will grow fhocking. The pafllons can

5 D give

76a ESSAY VIII.

CHAP

^' ^^; give beauty without the afllflance of colour or form, and take it
away where thel'e have united moft ftrongly to give it j and there-
fore this part of beauty is greatly fuperior to the other two.

The laft and nobleft part of beauty is grace, which the author
thinks undefinable.

Nothing caiifes love fo generally and irrefiftibly as grace.
Therefore, in the mythology of the Greeks and Romans, the
Graces were the conftant attendants of Venus the goddefs of love.
Grace is like the ceftus of the fame goddefs, which was fuppofed
to comprehend every thing that was winning and engaging, and
to create love by a fecret and inexplicable force, like that of fome
magical charm*

There are two kinds of grace, the majeftic and the familiar j
the firft more commanding, the laft more delightful and engaging.
The Grecian Painters and Sculptors ufed to exprefs the former
moft ftrongly in the looks and attitudes of their Minervas, and
the latter in thofe of Venus. This diftindion is marked in the
defcription of the perfonages of Virtue and Pleafure in the ancient
fableof the Choice of Hercules.

Graceful, but each with different grace they move.
This ftriking facred awe, that fofter winning love.

In the perfons of Adam and Eve in Paradife, Milton has
made the fame diftindion.

For contemplation he, and valour form'd.
For foftncfs flie, and fweet attradlive grace.

Though grace be fo difficult to be defined, there are two things
that hold univerfally with relation to it. Fir/^, There is no grace
without motion ; fome genteel or pleafing motion, either of the

whole

O F B E A U T Y. * 763

whole body or of fome limb, or at leaft fome feature. Hence, in CHAP, iv.
the face, grace appears only on thofe features that are moveable,
and change with the various emotions and fentiments of the
mind, fuch as the eyes and eye-brows, the mouth and parts adja-
cent. When Venus appeared to her fon ^neas in difguife, and,
after fome converfation with him, retired, it was by the grace of
her motion in retiring that he difcovered her to be truly a goddefs.

Dixit, et avertens rofea cervlce refulfit,
Ambrofiseque comae divinum vertice odorem
Spiravere ; pedes veftis defluxit ad imos ;
Et vera incelTu patuit dea. lUe, ubi matrem
Agnovit, ^c,

hfecond obfervation is, That there can be no grace with impro-
priety, or that nothing can be graceful that is not adapted to the
chara(fler and fituation of the perfon.

From thefe obfervations, which appear to me to be juft, we
may, I think, conclude, that grace, as far as it is vifible, confifts
of thofe motions, either of the whole body, or of a part or feature,,
■which exprefs the moft perfed propriety of condud and fentiment
in an amiable character.

Thofe motions muft be different in different chara(5lers ; they
muft vary with every variation of emotion and fentiment ; they
may exprefs either dignity or refpecfl, confidence or referve, love
or juft refentment, efteem or indignation, zeal or indifference. Eve-
ry pafTion, fentiment, or emotion, that in its nature and degree is
juft and proper, and correfponds perfedly with the charader of
the perfon, and with the occafion, is what we may call the foul of
grace. The body or vifible part confifts of thofe motions and fea-
tures which give the true and unaffeded expreffion of this foul.

Thus, I think, all the ingredients of human beauty, as they

J D 2 are

764 ^ E S S A Y VIII.

CHAP. IV. ^j.g enumerated and defcrlbed by this ingenious author, terminate
in expreffion : They either exprefs forae perfedlion of the body, as
a part of the man, and an inflrument of the mind, or fome ami-
able quality or attribute of the mind itfelf.

It cannot indeed be denied, that the expreffion of a fine counte-
nance may be unnaturally disjoined from the amiable qualities
which it naturally exprefles : But we prefume the contrary, till
we have clear evidence ; and even then, we pay homage to the
expreffion, as we do to the throne when it happens to be unwor-
thily filled.

Whether what I have offered to fhew, that all the beauty of the
objedls of fenfe is borrowed, and derived from the beauties of mind
which it expreffes or fuggefts to the imagination, be well found-
ed or not; I hope this terreftrial Venus will not be deemed lefs
worthy of the homage which has always been paid to her, by be-
ing conceived more nearly allied to the celeflial, than fhe has com-
monly been reprefented.

To make an end of this fubje(5l, tafte feems to be progreffive as
man is. Children, when refreffied by fleep, and at eafe from pain
and hunger, are difpofed to attend to the objecfls about them ; they
are pleafed with brilliant colours, gaudy ornaments, regular forms,
cheerful countenances, noify mirth, and glee. Such is the tafte
of childhood, which we muft conclude to be given for wife
purpofes. A great part of the happinefs of that period of life is
derived from it ; and therefore it ought to be indulged. It leads
them to attend to objeifts which they may afterwards find wor-
thy of their attention. It puts them upon exerting their infant
faculties of body and mind, which, by fuch exertions, are daily
ftrengthened and improved.

As they advance in years and in underftanding, other beauties
attradl their attention, which, by their novelty or fuperiority,

throw

OF BEAUTY. )^Ss

-V-

throw a fliade upon thofe they formerly admired. They delight CHAP.iv>.
in feats of agility, fhrength, and art ; they love thofe that excel in
them, and drive to equal them. In the tales and fables they hear,
they begin to difcern beauties of mind. Some characters and ac-
tions appear lovely, others give difguft. The intelledlual and mo*
ral powers begin to open, and, if cheriflied by favourable circum-
ftances, advance gradually in ftrength, till they arrive at that de-
gree of perfedlion, to which human nature, in its prefent ftate, is
limited.

In our progrefs from infancy to maturity, our faculties open' in
a regular order appointed by Nature ; the meaneft firft ; thofe of
more dignity in fucceffion, until the moral and rational powers
finifh the man. Every faculty furniflies new notions, brings new
beauties into view, and enlarges the province of tafte ; fo that we
may fay, there is a tafte of childhood, a tafte of youth, and a man-
ly tafte. Each is beautiful in its feafon ; but not fo much fo^
when carried beyond its feafon. Not that the man ought to dif-
like the things that pleafe the child, or the youth, but to put lefs
value upon them, compared with other beauties, with which he
ought to be acquainted.

Our moral and rational powers juftly claim dominion over the
whole man. Even tafte is not exempted from their authority ;
it muft be fubjedl to that authority in every cafe wherein we pre-
tend to reafon or difpute about matters of tafte ; it is the voice of
reafon that our love or our admiration ought to be proportioned
to the merit of the objed. When it is not grounded on real
worth, it muft be the efFe<5t of conftitution, or of fome habit or
cafual aflbciation. A fond mother may fee a beauty in her dar-
ling child, or a fond author in his work, to which the reft of the
world are blind. In fuch cafes, the affedion is pre-engaged, and,
as it were, bribes the judgment, to make the.objecl worthy of
that affedlion. For the mind cannot be eafy in putting a value
upon an objeift beyond what it conceives to be due. When affec-
tion

766 ESSAY VIII.

CHAP. IV.
^ ,—^J

tion is not carried away by fome natural or acquired bias, it natu-
rally is and ought to be led by the judgment.

As, in the divifion which I have followed of our intelledual
powers, I mentioned moral perception and confcioufnefs, the reader
-may expedl that fome reafon fhould be given, why they are not
treated of in this place.

As to confcioufnefs ; what I think neceffary to be faid upon it
has been already faid, Effay 6. chap. 5. As to the faculty of mo-
ral perception, it is indeed a moft important part of human under-
ftanding, and well worthy of the moft attentive confideration,
fince without it we could have no conception of right and wrong,
of duty and moral obligation, and fince the firft principles of mo-
rals, upon which all moral reafoning mufl be grounded, are its
immediate didlates ; but as it is an a<5tive as well as an intelledlual
power, and has an immediate relation to the other acSlive powers of
the mind, I apprehend that it is proper to defer the confideration
of it till thefe be explained.

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