A Treatise of Human Nature
A Treatise of Human Nature ADVERTISEMENT.INTRODUCTION.BOOK I. OF THE UNDERSTANDINGPART I. OF IDEAS, THEIR ORIGIN, COMPOSITION, CONNEXION, ABSTRACTION, ETC.PART II. OF THE IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME.PART III. OF KNOWLEDGE AND PROBABILITY.PART IV. OF THE SCEPTICAL AND OTHER SYSTEMS OF PHILOSOPHY.BOOK II OF THE PASSIONSPART I OF PRIDE AND HUMILITYPART II OF LOVE AND HATREDPART III OF THE WILL AND DIRECT PASSIONSBOOK III OF MORALSPART I OF VIRTUE AND VICE IN GENERALPART II OF JUSTICE AND INJUSTICEPART III OF THE OTHER VIRTUES AND VICESAPPENDIXCopyright
A Treatise of Human Nature
David Hume
ADVERTISEMENT.
My design in the present work is sufficiently explained in
the Introduction. The reader must only observe, that all the
subjects I have there planned out to myself, are not treated of in
these two volumes. The subjects of the Understanding and Passions
make a compleat chain of reasoning by themselves; and I was willing
to take advantage of this natural division, in order to try the
taste of the public. If I have the good fortune to meet with
success, I shall proceed to the examination of Morals, Politics,
and Criticism; which will compleat this Treatise of Human Nature.
The approbation of the public I consider as the greatest reward of
my labours; but am determined to regard its judgment, whatever it
be, as my best instruction.
INTRODUCTION.
Nothing is more usual and more natural for those, who pretend
to discover anything new to the world in philosophy and the
sciences, than to insinuate the praises of their own systems, by
decrying all those, which have been advanced before them. And
indeed were they content with lamenting that ignorance, which we
still lie under in the most important questions, that can come
before the tribunal of human reason, there are few, who have an
acquaintance with the sciences, that would not readily agree with
them. It is easy for one of judgment and learning, to perceive the
weak foundation even of those systems, which have obtained the
greatest credit, and have carried their pretensions highest to
accurate and profound reasoning. Principles taken upon trust,
consequences lamely deduced from them, want of coherence in the
parts, and of evidence in the whole, these are every where to be
met with in the systems of the most eminent philosophers, and seem
to have drawn disgrace upon philosophy itself.Nor is there required such profound knowledge to discover the
present imperfect condition of the sciences, but even the rabble
without doors may, judge from the noise and clamour, which they
hear, that all goes not well within. There is nothing which is not
the subject of debate, and in which men of learning are not of
contrary opinions. The most trivial question escapes not our
controversy, and in the most momentous we are not able to give any
certain decision. Disputes are multiplied, as if every thing was
uncertain; and these disputes are managed with the greatest warmth,
as if every thing was certain. Amidst all this bustle it is not
reason, which carries the prize, but eloquence; and no man needs
ever despair of gaining proselytes to the most extravagant
hypothesis, who has art enough to represent it in any favourable
colours. The victory is not gained by the men at arms, who manage
the pike and the sword; but by the trumpeters, drummers, and
musicians of the army.From hence in my opinion arises that common prejudice against
metaphysical reasonings of all kinds, even amongst those, who
profess themselves scholars, and have a just value for every other
part of literature. By metaphysical reasonings, they do not
understand those on any particular branch of science, but every
kind of argument, which is any way abstruse, and requires some
attention to be comprehended. We have so often lost our labour in
such researches, that we commonly reject them without hesitation,
and resolve, if we must for ever be a prey to errors and delusions,
that they shall at least be natural and entertaining. And indeed
nothing but the most determined scepticism, along with a great
degree of indolence, can justify this aversion to metaphysics. For
if truth be at all within the reach of human capacity, it is
certain it must lie very deep and abstruse: and to hope we shall
arrive at it without pains, while the greatest geniuses have failed
with the utmost pains, must certainly be esteemed sufficiently vain
and presumptuous. I pretend to no such advantage in the philosophy
I am going to unfold, and would esteem it a strong presumption
against it, were it so very easy and obvious.It is evident, that all the sciences have a relation, greater
or less, to human nature: and that however wide any of them may
seem to run from it, they still return back by one passage or
another. Even. Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Natural
Religion, are in some measure dependent on the science of MAN;
since the lie under the cognizance of men, and are judged of by
their powers and faculties. It is impossible to tell what changes
and improvements we might make in these sciences were we thoroughly
acquainted with the extent and force of human understanding, and
could explain the nature of the ideas we employ, and of the
operations we perform in our reasonings. And these improvements are
the more to be hoped for in natural religion, as it is not content
with instructing us in the nature of superior powers, but carries
its views farther, to their disposition towards us, and our duties
towards them; and consequently we ourselves are not only the
beings, that reason, but also one of the objects, concerning which
we reason.If therefore the sciences of Mathematics, Natural Philosophy,
and Natural Religion, have such a dependence on the knowledge of
man, what may be expected in the other sciences, whose connexion
with human nature is more close and intimate? The sole end of logic
is to explain the principles and operations of our reasoning
faculty, and the nature of our ideas: morals and criticism regard
our tastes and sentiments: and politics consider men as united in
society, and dependent on each other. In these four sciences of
Logic, Morals, Criticism, and Politics, is comprehended almost
everything, which it can any way import us to be acquainted with,
or which can tend either to the improvement or ornament of the
human mind.Here then is the only expedient, from which we can hope for
success in our philosophical researches, to leave the tedious
lingering method, which we have hitherto followed, and instead of
taking now and then a castle or village on the frontier, to march
up directly to the capital or center of these sciences, to human
nature itself; which being once masters of, we may every where else
hope for an easy victory. From this station we may extend our
conquests over all those sciences, which more intimately concern
human life, and may afterwards proceed at leisure to discover more
fully those, which are the objects of pore curiosity. There is no
question of importance, whose decision is not comprised in the
science of man; and there is none, which can be decided with any
certainty, before we become acquainted with that science. In
pretending, therefore, to explain the principles of human nature,
we in effect propose a compleat system of the sciences, built on a
foundation almost entirely new, and the only one upon which they
can stand with any security.And as the science of man is the-only solid foundation for
the other sciences, so the only solid foundation we can give to
this science itself must be laid on experience and observation. It
is no astonishing reflection to consider, that the application of
experimental philosophy to moral subjects should come after that to
natural at the distance of above a whole century; since we find in
fact, that there was about the same interval betwixt the origins of
these sciences; and that reckoning from THALES to SOCRATES, the
space of time is nearly equal to that betwixt, my Lord Bacon and
some late philosophers [Mr. Locke, my Lord Shaftesbury, Dr.
Mandeville, Mr. Hutchinson, Dr. Butler, etc.] in England, who have
begun to put the science of man on a new footing, and have engaged
the attention, and excited the curiosity of the public. So true it
is, that however other nations may rival us in poetry, and excel us
in some other agreeable arts, the improvements in reason and
philosophy can only be owing to a land of toleration and of
liberty.Nor ought we to think, that this latter improvement in the
science of man will do less honour to our native country than the
former in natural philosophy, but ought rather to esteem it a
greater glory, upon account of the greater importance of that
science, as well as the necessity it lay under of such a
reformation. For to me it seems evident, that the essence of the
mind being equally unknown to us with that of external bodies, it
must be equally impossible to form any notion of its powers and
qualities otherwise than from careful and exact experiments, and
the observation of those particular effects, which result from its
different circumstances and situations. And though we must
endeavour to render all our principles as universal as possible, by
tracing up our experiments to the utmost, and explaining all
effects from the simplest and fewest causes, it is still certain we
cannot go beyond experience; and any hypothesis, that pretends to
discover the ultimate original qualities of human nature, ought at
first to be rejected as presumptuous and chimerical.I do not think a philosopher, who would apply himself so
earnestly to the explaining the ultimate principles of the soul,
would show himself a great master in that very science of human
nature, which he pretends to explain, or very knowing in what is
naturally satisfactory to the mind of man. For nothing is more
certain, than that despair has almost the same effect upon us with
enjoyment, and that we are no sooner acquainted with the
impossibility of satisfying any desire, than the desire itself
vanishes. When we see, that we have arrived at the utmost extent of
human reason, we sit down contented, though we be perfectly
satisfied in the main of our ignorance, and perceive that we can
give no reason for our most general and most refined principles,
beside our experience of their reality; which is the reason of the
mere vulgar, and what it required no study at first to have
discovered for the most particular and most extraordinary
phaenomenon. And as this impossibility of making any farther
progress is enough to satisfy the reader, so the writer may derive
a more delicate satisfaction from the free confession of his
ignorance, and from his prudence in avoiding that error, into which
so many have fallen, of imposing their conjectures and hypotheses
on the world for the most certain principles. When this mutual
contentment and satisfaction can be obtained betwixt the master and
scholar, I know not what more we can require of our
philosophy.But if this impossibility of explaining ultimate principles
should be esteemed a defect in the science of man, I will venture
to affirm, that it is a defect common to it with all the sciences,
and all the arts, in which we can employ ourselves, whether they be
such as are cultivated in the schools of the philosophers, or
practised in the shops of the meanest artizans. None of them can go
beyond experience, or establish any principles which are not
founded on that authority. Moral philosophy has, indeed, this
peculiar disadvantage, which is not found in natural, that in
collecting its experiments, it cannot make them purposely, with
premeditation, and after such a manner as to satisfy itself
concerning every particular difficulty which may be. When I am at a
loss to know the effects of one body upon another in any situation,
I need only put them in that situation, and observe what results
from it. But should I endeavour to clear up after the same manner
any doubt in moral philosophy, by placing myself in the same case
with that which I consider, it is evident this reflection and
premeditation would so disturb the operation of my natural
principles, as must render it impossible to form any just
conclusion from the phenomenon. We must therefore glean up our
experiments in this science from a cautious observation of human
life, and take them as they appear in the common course of the
world, by men's behaviour in company, in affairs, and in their
pleasures. Where experiments of this kind are judiciously collected
and compared, we may hope to establish on them a science which will
not be inferior in certainty, and will be much superior in utility
to any other of human comprehension.
BOOK I. OF THE UNDERSTANDING
PART I. OF IDEAS, THEIR ORIGIN, COMPOSITION, CONNEXION,
ABSTRACTION, ETC.
SECT. I. OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR
IDEAS.All the perceptions of the human mind resolve themselves into
two distinct kinds, which I shall call IMPRESSIONS and IDEAS. The
difference betwixt these consists in the degrees of force and
liveliness, with which they strike upon the mind, and make their
way into our thought or consciousness. Those perceptions, which
enter with most force and violence, we may name impressions: and
under this name I comprehend all our sensations, passions and
emotions, as they make their first appearance in the soul. By ideas
I mean the faint images of these in thinking and reasoning; such
as, for instance, are all the perceptions excited by the present
discourse, excepting only those which arise from the sight and
touch, and excepting the immediate pleasure or uneasiness it may
occasion. I believe it will not be very necessary to employ many
words in explaining this distinction. Every one of himself will
readily perceive the difference betwixt feeling and thinking. The
common degrees of these are easily distinguished; though it is not
impossible but in particular instances they may very nearly
approach to each other. Thus in sleep, in a fever, in madness, or
in any very violent emotions of soul, our ideas may approach to our
impressions, As on the other hand it sometimes happens, that our
impressions are so faint and low, that we cannot distinguish them
from our ideas. But notwithstanding this near resemblance in a few
instances, they are in general so very different, that no-one can
make a scruple to rank them under distinct heads, and assign to
each a peculiar name to mark the difference [FN 1.].[FN 1. I here make use of
these terms, impression and idea, in a sense different from what
is usual, and I hope this liberty will be allowed me.
Perhaps I rather restore the word, idea, to its original
sense, from which Mr LOCKE had perverted it, in making it stand
for all our perceptions. By the terms of
impression I would not be understood to express the manner, in
which our lively perceptions are produced in the
soul, but merely the perceptions themselves; for which
there is no particular name either in the English or any
other language, that I know of.]There is another division of our perceptions, which it will
be convenient to observe, and which extends itself both to our
impressions and ideas. This division is into SIMPLE and COMPLEX.
Simple perceptions or impressions and ideas are such as admit of no
distinction nor separation. The complex are the contrary to these,
and may be distinguished into parts. Though a particular colour,
taste, and smell, are qualities all united together in this apple,
it is easy to perceive they are not the same, but are at least
distinguishable from each other.Having by these divisions given an order and arrangement to
our objects, we may now apply ourselves to consider with the more
accuracy their qualities and relations. The first circumstance,
that strikes my eye, is the great resemblance betwixt our
impressions and ideas in every other particular, except their
degree of force and vivacity. The one seem to be in a manner the
reflexion of the other; so that all the perceptions of the mind are
double, and appear both as impressions and ideas. When I shut my
eyes and think of my chamber, the ideas I form are exact
representations of the impressions I felt; nor is there any
circumstance of the one, which is not to be found in the other. In
running over my other perceptions, I find still the same
resemblance and representation. Ideas and impressions appear always
to correspond to each other. This circumstance seems to me
remarkable, and engages my attention for a moment.Upon a more accurate survey I find I have been carried away
too far by the first appearance, and that I must make use of the
distinction of perceptions into simple and complex, to limit this
general decision, that all our ideas and impressions are
resembling. I observe, that many of our complex ideas never had
impressions, that corresponded to them, and that many of our
complex impressions never are exactly copied in ideas. I can
imagine to myself such a city as the New Jerusalem, whose pavement
is gold and walls are rubies, though I never saw any such. I have
seen Paris; but shall I affirm I can form such an idea of that
city, as will perfectly represent all its streets and houses in
their real and just proportions?I perceive, therefore, that though there is in general a
great, resemblance betwixt our complex impressions and ideas, yet
the rule is not universally true, that they are exact copies of
each other. We may next consider how the case stands with our
simple, perceptions. After the most accurate examination, of which
I am capable, I venture to affirm, that the rule here holds without
any exception, and that every simple idea has a simple impression,
which resembles it, and every simple impression a correspondent
idea. That idea of red, which we form in the dark, and that
impression which strikes our eyes in sun-shine, differ only in
degree, not in nature. That the case is the same with all our
simple impressions and ideas, it is impossible to prove by a
particular enumeration of them. Every one may satisfy himself in
this point by running over as many as he pleases. But if any one
should deny this universal resemblance, I know no way of convincing
him, but by desiring him to shew a simple impression, that has not
a correspondent idea, or a simple idea, that has not a
correspondent impression. If he does not answer this challenge, as
it is certain he cannot, we may from his silence and our own
observation establish our conclusion.Thus we find, that all simple ideas and impressions resemble
each other; and as the complex are formed from them, we may affirm
in general, that these two species of perception are exactly
correspondent. Having discovered this relation, which requires no
farther examination, I am curious to find some other of their
qualities. Let us consider how they stand with regard to their
existence, and which of the impressions and ideas are causes, and
which effects.The full examination of this question is the subject of the
present treatise; and therefore we shall here content ourselves
with establishing one general proposition, THAT ALL OUR SIMPLE
IDEAS IN THEIR FIRST APPEARANCE ARE DERIVED FROM SIMPLE
IMPRESSIONS, WHICH ARE CORRESPONDENT TO THEM, AND WHICH THEY
EXACTLY REPRESENT.In seeking for phenomena to prove this proposition, I find
only those of two kinds; but in each kind the phenomena are
obvious, numerous, and conclusive. I first make myself certain, by
a new, review, of what I have already asserted, that every simple
impression is attended with a correspondent idea, and every simple
idea with a correspondent impression. From this constant
conjunction of resembling perceptions I immediately conclude, that
there is a great connexion betwixt our correspondent impressions
and ideas, and that the existence of the one has a considerable
influence upon that of the other. Such a constant conjunction, in
such an infinite number of instances, can never arise from chance;
but clearly proves a dependence of the impressions on the ideas, or
of the ideas on the impressions. That I may know on which side this
dependence lies, I consider the order of their first appearance;
and find by constant experience, that the simple impressions always
take the precedence of their correspondent ideas, but never appear
in the contrary order. To give a child an idea of scarlet or
orange, of sweet or bitter, I present the objects, or in other
words, convey to him these impressions; but proceed not so
absurdly, as to endeavour to produce the impressions by exciting
the ideas. Our ideas upon their appearance produce not their
correspondent impressions, nor do we perceive any colour, or feel
any sensation merely upon thinking of them. On the other hand we
find, that any impression either of the mind or body is constantly
followed by an idea, which resembles it, and is only different in
the degrees of force and liveliness, The constant conjunction of
our resembling perceptions, is a convincing proof, that the one are
the causes of the other; and this priority of the impressions is an
equal proof, that our impressions are the causes of our ideas, not
our ideas of our impressions.To confirm this I consider Another plain and convincing
phaenomenon; which is, that, where-ever by any accident the
faculties, which give rise to any impressions, are obstructed in
their operations, as when one is born blind or deaf; not only the
impressions are lost, but also their correspondent ideas; so that
there never appear in the mind the least traces of either of them.
Nor is this only true, where the organs of sensation are entirely
destroyed, but likewise where they have never been put in action to
produce a particular impression. We cannot form to ourselves a just
idea of the taste of a pine apple, without having actually tasted
it.There is however one contradictory phaenomenon, which may
prove, that it is not absolutely impossible for ideas to go before
their correspondent impressions. I believe it will readily be
allowed that the several distinct ideas of colours, which enter by
the eyes, or those of sounds, which are conveyed by the hearing,
are really different from each other, though at the same time
resembling. Now if this be true of different colours, it must be no
less so of the different shades of the same colour, that each of
them produces a distinct idea, independent of the rest. For if this
should be denied, it is possible, by the continual gradation of
shades, to run a colour insensibly into what is most remote from
it; and if you will not allow any of the means to be different, you
cannot without absurdity deny the extremes to be the same. Suppose
therefore a person to have enjoyed his sight for thirty years, and
to have become perfectly well acquainted with colours of all kinds,
excepting one particular shade of blue, for instance, which it
never has been his fortune to meet with. Let all the different
shades of that colour, except that single one, be placed before
him, descending gradually from the deepest to the lightest; it is
plain, that he will perceive a blank, where that shade is wanting,
said will be sensible, that there is a greater distance in that
place betwixt the contiguous colours, than in any other. Now I ask,
whether it is possible for him, from his own imagination, to supply
this deficiency, and raise up to himself the idea of that
particular shade, though it had never been conveyed to him by his
senses? I believe there are few but will be of opinion that he can;
and this may serve as a proof, that the simple ideas are not always
derived from the correspondent impressions; though the instance is
so particular and singular, that it is scarce worth our observing,
and does not merit that for it alone we should alter our general
maxim.But besides this exception, it may not be amiss to remark on
this head, that the principle of the priority of impressions to
ideas must be understood with another limitation, viz., that as our
ideas are images of our impressions, so we can form secondary
ideas, which are images of the primary; as appears from this very
reasoning concerning them. This is not, properly speaking, an
exception to the rule so much as an explanation of it. Ideas
produce the images of themselves in new ideas; but as the first
ideas are supposed to be derived from impressions, it still remains
true, that all our simple ideas proceed either mediately or
immediately, from their correspondent impressions.This then is the first principle I establish in the science
of human nature; nor ought we to despise it because of the
simplicity of its appearance. For it is remarkable, that the
present question concerning the precedency of our impressions or
ideas, is the same with what has made so much noise in other terms,
when it has been disputed whether there be any INNATE IDEAS, or
whether all ideas be derived from sensation and reflexion. We may
observe, that in order to prove the ideas of extension and colour
not to be innate, philosophers do nothing but shew that they are
conveyed by our senses. To prove the ideas of passion and desire
not to be innate, they observe that we have a preceding experience
of these emotions in ourselves. Now if we carefully examine these
arguments, we shall find that they prove nothing but that ideas are
preceded by other more lively perceptions, from which the are
derived, and which they represent. I hope this clear stating of the
question will remove all disputes concerning it, and win render
this principle of more use in our reasonings, than it seems
hitherto to have been.SECT. II. DIVISION OF THE
SUBJECT.Since it appears, that our simple impressions are prior to
their correspondent ideas, and that the exceptions are very rare,
method seems to require we should examine our impressions, before
we consider our ideas. Impressions way be divided into two kinds,
those Of SENSATION and those of REFLEXION. The first kind arises in
the soul originally, from unknown causes. The second is derived in
a great measure from our ideas, and that in the following order. An
impression first strikes upon the senses, and makes us perceive
heat or cold, thirst or hunger, pleasure or pain of some kind or
other. Of this impression there is a copy taken by the mind, which
remains after the impression ceases; and this we call an idea. This
idea of pleasure or pain, when it returns upon the soul, produces
the new impressions of desire and aversion, hope and fear, which
may properly be called impressions of reflexion, because derived
from it. These again are copied by the memory and imagination, and
become ideas; which perhaps in their turn give rise to other
impressions and ideas. So that the impressions of reflexion are
only antecedent to their correspondent ideas; but posterior to
those of sensation, and derived from them. The examination of our
sensations belongs more to anatomists and natural philosophers than
to moral; and therefore shall not at present be entered upon. And
as the impressions of reflexion, viz. passions, desires, and
emotions, which principally deserve our attention, arise mostly
from ideas, it will be necessary to reverse that method, which at
first sight seems most natural; and in order to explain the nature
and principles of the human mind, give a particular account of
ideas, before we proceed to impressions. For this reason I have
here chosen to begin with ideas.SECT. III. OF THE IDEAS OF THE MEMORY AND
IMAGINATION.We find by experience, that when any impression has been
present 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 considerable degree of its first
vivacity, and is somewhat intermediate betwixt an impression and an
idea: or when it entirely loses that vivacity, and is a perfect
idea. The faculty, by which we repeat our impressions in the first
manner, is called the MEMORY, and the other the IMAGINATION. It is
evident at first sight, that the ideas of the memory are much more
lively and strong than those of the imagination, and that the
former faculty paints its objects in more distinct colours, than
any which are employed by the latter. When we remember any past
event, the idea of it flows in upon the mind in a forcible manner;
whereas in the imagination the perception is faint and languid, and
cannot without difficulty be preserved by the mind steddy and
uniform for any considerable time. Here then is a sensible
difference betwixt one species of ideas and another. But of this
more fully hereafter.[Part II, Sect. 5.]There is another difference betwixt these two kinds of ideas,
which is no less evident, namely that though neither the ideas, of
the memory nor imagination, neither the lively nor faint ideas can
make their appearance in the mind, unless their correspondent
impressions have gone before to prepare the way for them, yet the
imagination is not restrained to the same order and form with the
original impressions; while the memory is in a manner tied down in
that respect, without any power of variation.It is evident, that the memory preserves the original form,
in which its objects were presented, and that where-ever we depart
from it in recollecting any thing, it proceeds from some defect or
imperfection in that faculty. An historian may, perhaps, for the
more convenient Carrying on of his narration, relate an event
before another, to which it was in fact posterior; but then he
takes notice of this disorder, if he be exact; and by that means
replaces the idea in its due position. It is the same case in our
recollection of those places and persons, with which we were
formerly acquainted. The chief exercise of the memory is not to
preserve the simple ideas, but their order and position. In short,
this principle is supported by such a number of common and vulgar
phaenomena, that we may spare ourselves the trouble of insisting on
it any farther.The same evidence follows us in our second principle, OF THE
LIBERTY OF THE IMAGINATION TO TRANSPOSE AND CHANGE ITS IDEAS. The
fables we meet with in poems and romances put this entirely out of
the question. Nature there is totally confounded, and nothing
mentioned but winged horses, fiery dragons, and monstrous giants.
Nor will this liberty of the fancy appear strange, when we
consider, that all our ideas are copyed from our impressions, and
that there are not any two impressions which are perfectly
inseparable. Not to mention, that this is an evident consequence of
the division of ideas into simple and complex. Where-ever the
imagination perceives a difference among ideas, it can easily
produce a separation.SECT. IV. OF THE CONNEXION OR ASSOCIATION OF
IDEAS.As all simple ideas may be separated by the imagination, and
may be united again in what form it pleases, nothing would be more
unaccountable than the operations of that faculty, were it not
guided by some universal principles, which render it, in some
measure, uniform with itself in all times and places. Were ideas
entirely loose and unconnected, chance alone would join them; and
it is impossible the same simple ideas should fall regularly into
complex ones (as they Commonly do) without some bond of union among
them, some associating quality, by which one idea naturally
introduces another. This uniting principle among ideas is not to be
considered as an inseparable connexion; for that has been already
excluded from the imagination: Nor yet are we to conclude, that
without it the mind cannot join two ideas; for nothing is more free
than that faculty: but we are only to regard it as a gentle force,
which commonly prevails, and is the cause why, among other things,
languages so nearly correspond to each other; nature in a manner
pointing out to every one those simple ideas, which are most proper
to be united in a complex one. The qualities, from which this
association arises, and by which the mind is after this manner
conveyed from one idea to another, are three, viz. RESEMBLANCE,
CONTIGUITY in time or place, and CAUSE and EFFECT.I believe it will not be very necessary to prove, that these
qualities produce an association among ideas, and upon the
appearance of one idea naturally introduce another. It is plain,
that in the course of our thinking, and in the constant revolution
of our ideas, our imagination runs easily from one idea to any
other that resembles it, and that this quality alone is to the
fancy a sufficient bond and association. It is likewise evident
that as the senses, in changing their objects, are necessitated to
change them regularly, and take them as they lie CONTIGUOUS to each
other, the imagination must by long custom acquire the same method
of thinking, and run along the parts of space and time in
conceiving its objects. As to the connexion, that is made by the
relation of cause and effect, we shall have occasion afterwards to
examine it to the bottom, and therefore shall not at present insist
upon it. It is sufficient to observe, that there is no relation,
which produces a stronger connexion in the fancy, and makes one
idea more readily recall another, than the relation of cause and
effect betwixt their objects.That we may understand the full extent of these relations, we
must consider, that two objects are connected together in the
imagination, not only when the one is immediately resembling,
contiguous to, or the cause of the other, but also when there is
interposed betwixt them a third object, which bears to both of them
any of these relations. This may be carried on to a great length;
though at the same time we may observe, that each remove
considerably weakens the relation. Cousins in the fourth degree are
connected by causation, if I may be allowed to use that term; but
not so closely as brothers, much less as child and parent. In
general we may observe, that all the relations of blood depend upon
cause and effect, and are esteemed near or remote, according to the
number of connecting causes interposed betwixt the
persons.Of the three relations above-mentioned this of causation is
the most extensive. Two objects may be considered as placed in this
relation, as well when one is the cause of any of the actions or
motions of the other, as when the former is the cause of the
existence of the latter. For as that action or motion is nothing
but the object itself, considered in a certain light, and as the
object continues the same in all its different situations, it is
easy to imagine how such an influence of objects upon one another
may connect them in the imagination.We may carry this farther, and remark, not only that two
objects are connected by the relation of cause and effect, when the
one produces a motion or any action in the other, but also when it
has a power of producing it. And this we may observe to be the
source of all the relation, of interest and duty, by which men
influence each other in society, and are placed in the ties of
government and subordination. A master is such-a-one as by his
situation, arising either from force or agreement, has a power of
directing in certain particulars the actions of another, whom we
call servant. A judge is one, who in all disputed cases can fix by
his opinion the possession or property of any thing betwixt any
members of the society. When a person is possessed of any power,
there is no more required to convert it into action, but the
exertion of the will; and that in every case is considered as
possible, and in many as probable; especially in the case of
authority, where the obedience of the subject is a pleasure and
advantage to the superior.These are therefore the principles of union or cohesion among
our simple ideas, and in the imagination supply the place of that
inseparable connexion, by which they are united in our memory. Here
is a kind of ATTRACTION, which in the mental world will be found to
have as extraordinary effects as in the natural, and to shew itself
in as many and as various forms. Its effects are every where
conspicuous; but as to its causes, they are mostly unknown, and
must be resolved into original qualities of human nature, which I
pretend not to explain. Nothing is more requisite for a true
philosopher, than to restrain the intemperate desire of searching
into causes, and having established any doctrine upon a sufficient
number of experiments, rest contented with that, when he sees a
farther examination would lead him into obscure and uncertain
speculations. In that case his enquiry would be much better
employed in examining the effects than the causes of his
principle.Amongst the effects of this union or association of ideas,
there are none more remarkable, than those complex ideas, which are
the common subjects of our thoughts and reasoning, and generally
arise from some principle of union among our simple ideas. These
complex ideas may be divided into Relations, Modes, and Substances.
We shall briefly examine each of these in order, and shall subjoin
some considerations concerning our general and particular ideas,
before we leave the present subject, which may be considered as the
elements of this philosophy.SECT. V. OF RELATIONS.The word RELATION is commonly used in two senses considerably
different from each other. Either for that quality, by which two
ideas are connected together in the imagination, and the one
naturally introduces the other, after the manner above-explained:
or for that particular circumstance, in which, even upon the
arbitrary union of two ideas in the fancy, we may think proper to
compare them. In common language the former is always the sense, in
which we use the word, relation; and it is only in philosophy, that
we extend it to mean any particular subject of comparison, without
a connecting principle. Thus distance will be allowed by
philosophers to be a true relation, because we acquire an idea of
it by the comparing of objects: But in a common way we say, THAT
NOTHING CAN BE MORE DISTANT THAN SUCH OR SUCH THINGS FROM EACH
OTHER, NOTHING CAN HAVE LESS RELATION: as if distance and relation
were incompatible.It may perhaps be esteemed an endless task to enumerate all
those qualities, which make objects admit of comparison, and by
which the ideas of philosophical relation are produced. But if we
diligently consider them, we shall find that without difficulty
they may be comprised under seven general heads, which may be
considered as the sources of all philosophical
relation.(1) The first is RESEMBLANCE: And this is a relation, without
which no philosophical relation can exist; since no objects will
admit of comparison, but what have some degree of resemblance. But
though resemblance be necessary to all philosophical relation, it
does not follow, that it always produces a connexion or association
of ideas. When a quality becomes very general, and is common to a
great many individuals, it leads not the mind directly to any one
of them; but by presenting at once too great a choice, does thereby
prevent the imagination from fixing on any single
object.(2) IDENTITY may be esteemed a second species of relation.
This relation I here consider as applied in its strictest sense to
constant and unchangeable objects; without examining the nature and
foundation of personal identity, which shall find its place
afterwards. Of all relations the most universal is that of
identity, being common to every being whose existence has any
duration.(3) After identity the most universal and comprehensive
relations are those of SPACE and TIME, which are the sources of an
infinite number of comparisons, such as distant, contiguous, above,
below, before, after, etc.(4) All those objects, which admit of QUANTITY, or NUMBER,
may be compared in that particular; which is another very fertile
source of relation.(5) When any two objects possess the same QUALITY in common,
the DEGREES, in which they possess it, form a fifth species of
relation. Thus of two objects, which are both heavy, the one may be
either of greater, or less weight than the other. Two colours, that
are of the same kind, may yet be of different shades, and in that
respect admit of comparison.(6) The relation of CONTRARIETY may at first sight be
regarded as an exception to the rule, THAT NO RELATION OF ANY KIND
CAN SUBSIST WITHOUT SOME DEGREE OF RESEMBLANCE. But let us
consider, that no two ideas are in themselves contrary, except
those of existence and non-existence, which are plainly resembling,
as implying both of them an idea of the object; though the latter
excludes the object from all times and places, in which it is
supposed not to exist.(7) All other objects, such as fire and water, heat and cold,
are only found to be contrary from experience, and from the
contrariety of their causes or effects; which relation of cause and
effect is a seventh philosophical relation, as well as a natural
one. The resemblance implied in this relation, shall be explained
afterwards.It might naturally be expected, that I should join DIFFERENCE
to the other relations. But that I consider rather as a negation of
relation, than as anything real or positive. Difference is of two
kinds as opposed either to identity or resemblance. The first is
called a difference of number; the other of KIND.SECT. VI. OF MODES AND
SUBSTANCESI would fain ask those philosophers, who found so much of
their reasonings on the distinction of substance and accident, and
imagine we have clear ideas of each, whether the idea of substance
be derived from the impressions of sensation or of reflection? If
it be conveyed to us by our senses, I ask, which of them; and after
what manner? If it be perceived by the eyes, it must be a colour;
if by the ears, a sound; if by the palate, a taste; and so of the
other senses. But I believe none will assert, that substance is
either a colour, or sound, or a taste. The idea, of substance must
therefore be derived from an impression of reflection, if it really
exist. But the impressions of reflection resolve themselves into
our passions and emotions: none of which can possibly represent a
substance. We have therefore no idea of substance, distinct from
that of a collection of particular qualities, nor have we any other
meaning when we either talk or reason concerning it.The idea of a substance as well as that of a mode, is nothing
but a collection of Simple ideas, that are united by the
imagination, and have a particular name assigned them, by which we
are able to recall, either to ourselves or others, that collection.
But the difference betwixt these ideas consists in this, that the
particular qualities, which form a substance, are commonly referred
to an unknown something, in which they are supposed to inhere; or
granting this fiction should not take place, are at least supposed
to be closely and inseparably connected by the relations of
contiguity and causation. The effect of this is, that whatever new
simple quality we discover to have the same connexion with the
rest, we immediately comprehend it among them, even though it did
not enter into the first conception of the substance. Thus our idea
of gold may at first be a yellow colour, weight, malleableness,
fusibility; but upon the discovery of its dissolubility in aqua
regia, we join that to the other qualities, and suppose it to
belong to the substance as much as if its idea had from the
beginning made a part of the compound one. The principal of union
being regarded as the chief part of the complex idea, gives
entrance to whatever quality afterwards occurs, and is equally
comprehended by it, as are the others, which first presented
themselves.That this cannot take place in modes, is evident from
considering their mature. The simple ideas of which modes are
formed, either represent qualities, which are not united by
contiguity and causation, but are dispersed in different subjects;
or if they be all united together, the uniting principle is not
regarded as the foundation of the complex idea. The idea of a dance
is an instance of the first kind of modes; that of beauty of the
second. The reason is obvious, why such complex ideas cannot
receive any new idea, without changing the name, which
distinguishes the mode.SECT. VII. OF ABSTRACT IDEAS.A very material question has been started concerning ABSTRACT
or GENERAL ideas, WHETHER THEY BE GENERAL OR PARTICULAR IN THE
MIND'S CONCEPTION OF THEM. A great philosopher [Dr. Berkeley.] has
disputed the received opinion in this particular, and has asserted,
that all general ideas are nothing but particular ones, annexed to
a certain term, which gives them a more extensive signification,
and makes them recall upon occasion other individuals, which are
similar to them. As I look upon this to be one of the greatest and
most valuable discoveries that has been made of late years in the
republic of letters, I shall here endeavour to confirm it by some
arguments, which I hope will put it beyond all doubt and
controversy.It is evident, that in forming most of our general ideas, if
not all of them, we abstract from every particular degree of
quantity and quality, and that an object ceases not to be of any
particular species on account of every small alteration in its
extension, duration and other properties. It may therefore be
thought, that here is a plain dilemma, that decides concerning the
nature of those abstract ideas, which have afforded so much
speculation to philosophers. The abstract idea of a man represents
men of all sizes and all qualities; which it is concluded it cannot
do, but either by representing at once all possible sizes and all
possible qualities, or by, representing no particular one at all.
Now it having been esteemed absurd to defend the former
proposition, as implying an infinite capacity in the mind, it has
been commonly inferred in favour of the latter: and our abstract
ideas have been supposed to represent no particular degree either
of quantity or quality. But that this inference is erroneous, I
shall endeavour to make appear, first, by proving, that it is
utterly impossible to conceive any quantity or quality, without
forming a precise notion of its degrees: And secondly by showing,
that though the capacity of the mind be not infinite, yet we can at
once form a notion of all possible degrees of quantity and quality,
in such a manner at least, as, however imperfect, may serve all the
purposes of reflection and conversation.To begin with the first proposition, THAT THE MIND CANNOT
FORM ANY NOTION OF QUANTITY OR QUALITY WITHOUT FORMING A PRECISE
NOTION OF DEGREES OF EACH; we may prove this by the three following
arguments. First, We have observed, that whatever objects are
different are distinguishable, and that whatever objects are
distinguishable are separable by the thought and imagination. And
we may here add, that these propositions are equally true in the
inverse, and that whatever objects are separable are also
distinguishable, and that whatever objects are distinguishable, are
also different. For how is it possible we can separate what is not
distinguishable, or distinguish what is not different? In order
therefore to know, whether abstraction implies a separation, we
need only consider it in this view, and examine, whether all the
circumstances, which we abstract from in our general ideas, be such
as are distinguishable and different from those, which we retain as
essential parts of them. But it is evident at first sight, that the
precise length of a line is not different nor distinguishable from
the line itself nor the precise degree of any quality from the
quality. These ideas, therefore, admit no more of separation than
they do of distinction and difference. They are consequently
conjoined with each other in the conception; and the general idea
of a line, notwithstanding all our abstractions and refinements,
has in its appearance in the mind a precise degree of quantity and
quality; however it may be made to represent others, which have
different degrees of both.Secondly, it is contest, that no object can appear to the
senses; or in other words, that no impression can become present to
the mind, without being determined in its degrees both of quantity
and quality. The confusion, in which impressions are sometimes
involved, proceeds only from their faintness and unsteadiness, not
from any capacity in the mind to receive any impression, which in
its real existence has no particular degree nor proportion. That is
a contradiction in terms; and even implies the flattest of all
contradictions, viz. that it is possible for the same thing both to
be and not to be.Now since all ideas are derived from impressions, and are
nothing but copies and representations of them, whatever is true of
the one must be acknowledged concerning the other. Impressions and
ideas differ only in their strength and vivacity. The foregoing
conclusion is not founded on any particular degree of vivacity. It
cannot therefore be affected by any variation in that particular.
An idea is a weaker impression; and as a strong impression must
necessarily have a determinate quantity and quality, the case must
be the same with its copy or representative.Thirdly, it is a principle generally received in philosophy
that everything in nature is individual, and that it is utterly
absurd to suppose a triangle really existent, which has no precise
proportion of sides and angles. If this therefore be absurd in fact
and reality, it must also be absurd in idea; since nothing of which
we can form a clear and distinct idea is absurd and impossible. But
to form the idea of an object, and to form an idea simply, is the
same thing; the reference of the idea to an object being an
extraneous denomination, of which in itself it bears no mark or
character. Now as it is impossible to form an idea of an object,
that is possest of quantity and quality, and yet is possest of no
precise degree of either; it follows that there is an equal
impossibility of forming an idea, that is not limited and confined
in both these particulars. Abstract ideas are therefore in
themselves individual, however they may become general in their
representation. The image in the mind is only that of a particular
object, though the application of it in our reasoning be the same,
as if it were universal.This application of ideas beyond their nature proceeds from
our collecting all their possible degrees of quantity and quality
in such an imperfect manner as may serve the purposes of life,
which is the second proposition I proposed to explain. When we have
found a resemblance [FN 2.] among several objects, that often occur
to us, we apply the same name to all of them, whatever differences
we may observe in the degrees of their quantity and quality, and
whatever other differences may appear among them. After we have
acquired a custom of this kind, the hearing of that name revives
the idea of one of these objects, and makes the imagination
conceive it with all its particular circumstances and proportions.
But as the same word is supposed to have been frequently applied to
other individuals, that are different in many respects from that
idea, which is immediately present to the mind; the word not being
able to revive the idea of all these individuals, but only touches
the soul, if I may be allowed so to speak, and revives that custom,
which we have acquired by surveying them. They are not really and
in fact present to the mind, but only in power; nor do we draw them
all out distinctly in the imagination, but keep ourselves in a
readiness to survey any of them, as we may be prompted by a present
design or necessity. The word raises up an individual idea, along
with a certain custom; and that custom produces any other
individual one, for which we may have occasion. But as the
production of all the ideas, to which the name may be applied, is
in most eases impossible, we abridge that work by a more partial
consideration, and find but few inconveniences to arise in our
reasoning from that abridgment.[FN 2. It is evident, that
even different simple ideas may have a similarity or resemblance
to each other; nor is it necessary, that the point or
circumstance of resemblance shoud be distinct or separable from
that in which they differ. BLUE and GREEN are different
simple ideas, but are more resembling than BLUE and
SCARLET; tho their perfect simplicity excludes all possibility
of separation or distinction. It is the same case
with particular sounds, and tastes and smells. These admit of
infinite resemblances upon the general appearance and
comparison, without having any common circumstance the same. And of
this we may be certain, even from the very abstract terms
SIMPLE IDEA. They comprehend all simple ideas under
them. These resemble each other in their simplicity. And yet
from their very nature, which excludes all composition, this
circumstance, In which they resemble, Is not
distinguishable nor separable from the rest. It is the same case with all
the degrees In any quality. They are all resembling and
yet the quality, In any individual, Is not distinct from the
degree.]For this is one of the most extraordinary circumstances in
the present affair, that after the mind has produced an individual
idea, upon which we reason, the attendant custom, revived by the
general or abstract term, readily suggests any other individual, if
by chance we form any reasoning, that agrees not with it. Thus
should we mention the word triangle, and form the idea of a
particular equilateral one to correspond to it, and should we
afterwards assert, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to
each other, the other individuals of a scalenum and isosceles,
which we overlooked at first, immediately crowd in upon us, and
make us perceive the falshood of this proposition, though it be
true with relation to that idea, which we had formed. If the mind
suggests not always these ideas upon occasion, it proceeds from
some imperfection in its faculties; and such a one as is often the
source of false reasoning and sophistry. But this is principally
the case with those ideas which are abstruse and compounded. On
other occasions the custom is more entire, and it is seldom we run
into such errors.Nay so entire is the custom, that the very same idea may be
annext to several different words, and may be employed in different
reasonings, without any danger of mistake. Thus the idea of an
equilateral triangle of an inch perpendicular may serve us in
talking of a figure, of a rectilinear figure, of a regular figure,
of a triangle, and of an equilateral triangle. All these terms,
therefore, are in this case attended with the same idea; but as
they are wont to be applied in a greater or lesser compass, they
excite their particular habits, and thereby keep the mind in a
readiness to observe, that no conclusion be formed contrary to any
ideas, which are usually comprized under them.Before those habits have become entirely perfect, perhaps the
mind may not be content with forming the idea of only one
individual, but may run over several, in order to make itself
comprehend its own meaning, and the compass of that collection,
which it intends to express by the general term. That we may fix
the meaning of the word, figure, we may revolve in our mind the
ideas of circles, squares, parallelograms, triangles of different
sizes and proportions, and may not rest on one image or idea.
However this may be, it is certain that we form the idea of
individuals, whenever we use any general term; that we seldom or
never can exhaust these individuals; and that those, which remain,
are only represented by means of that habit, by which we recall
them, whenever any present occasion requires it. This then is the
nature of our abstract ideas and general terms; and it is after
this manner we account for the foregoing paradox, THAT SOME IDEAS
ARE PARTICULAR IN THEIR NATURE, BUT GENERAL IN THEIR
REPRESENTATION. A particular idea becomes general by being annexed
to a general term; that is, to a term, which from a customary
conjunction has a relation to many other particular ideas, and
readily recalls them in the imagination.The only difficulty, that can remain on this subject, must be
with regard to that custom, which so readily recalls every
particular idea, for which we may have occasion, and is excited by
any word or sound, to which we commonly annex it. The most proper
method, in my opinion, of giving a satisfactory explication of this
act of the mind, is by producing other instances, which are
analogous to it, and other principles, which facilitate its
operation. To explain the ultimate causes of our mental actions is
impossible. It is sufficient, if we can give any satisfactory
account of them from experience and analogy.First then I observe, that when we mention any great number,
such as a thousand, the mind has generally no adequate idea of it,
but only a power of producing such an idea, by its adequate idea of
the decimals, under which the number is comprehended. This
imperfection, however, in our ideas, is never felt in our
reasonings; which seems to be an instance parallel to the present
one of universal ideas.Secondly, we have several instances of habits, which may be
revived by one single word; as when a person, who has by rote any
periods of a discourse, or any number of verses, will be put in
remembrance of the whole, which he is at a loss to recollect, by
that single word or expression, with which they begin.Thirdly, I believe every one, who examines the situation of
his mind in reasoning will agree with me, that we do not annex
distinct and compleat ideas to every term we make use of, and that
in talking of government, church, negotiation, conquest, we seldom
spread out in our minds all the simple ideas, of which these
complex ones are composed. It is however observable, that
notwithstanding this imperfection we may avoid talking nonsense on
these subjects, and may perceive any repugnance among the ideas, as
well as if we had a fall comprehension of them. Thus if instead of
saying, that in war the weaker have always recourse to negotiation,
we should say, that they have always recourse to conquest, the
custom, which we have acquired of attributing certain relations to
ideas, still follows the words, and makes us immediately perceive
the absurdity of that proposition; in the same manner as one
particular idea may serve us in reasoning concerning other ideas,
however different from it in several circumstances.Fourthly, As the individuals are collected together, said
placed under a general term with a view to that resemblance, which
they bear to each other, this relation must facilitate their
entrance in the imagination, and make them be suggested more
readily upon occasion. And indeed if we consider the common
progress of the thought, either in reflection or conversation, we
shall find great reason to be satisfyed in this particular. Nothing
is more admirable, than the readiness, with which the imagination
suggests its ideas, and presents them at the very instant, in which
they become necessary or useful. The fancy runs from one end of the
universe to the other in collecting those ideas, which belong to
any subject. One would think the whole intellectual world of ideas
was at once subjected to our view, and that we did nothing but pick
out such as were most proper for our purpose. There may not,
however, be any present, beside those very ideas, that are thus
collected by a kind of magical faculty in the soul, which, though
it be always most perfect in the greatest geniuses, and is properly
what we call a genius, is however inexplicable by the utmost
efforts of human understanding.Perhaps these four reflections may help to remove an
difficulties to the hypothesis I have proposed concerning abstract
ideas, so contrary to that, which has hitherto prevailed in
philosophy, But, to tell the truth I place my chief confidence in
what I have already proved concerning the impossibility of general
ideas, according to the common method of explaining them. We must
certainly seek some new system on this head, and there plainly is
none beside what I have proposed. If ideas be particular in their
nature, and at the same time finite in their number, it is only by
custom they can become general in their representation, and contain
an infinite number of other ideas under them.Before I leave this subject I shall employ the same
principles to explain that distinction of reason, which is so much
talked of, and is so little understood, in the schools. Of this
kind is the distinction betwixt figure and the body figured; motion
and the body moved. The difficulty of explaining this distinction
arises from the principle above explained, that all ideas, which
are different, are separable. For it follows from thence, that if
the figure be different from the body, their ideas must be
separable as well as distinguishable: if they be not different,
their ideas can neither be separable nor distinguishable. What then
is meant by a distinction of reason, since it implies neither a
difference nor separation.To remove this difficulty we must have recourse to the
foregoing explication of abstract ideas. It is certain that the
mind would never have dreamed of distinguishing a figure from the
body figured, as being in reality neither distinguishable, nor
different, nor separable; did it not observe, that even in this
simplicity there might be contained many different resemblances and
relations. Thus when a globe of white marble is presented, we
receive only the impression of a white colour disposed in a certain
form, nor are we able to separate and distinguish the colour from
the form. But observing afterwards a globe of black marble and a
cube of white, and comparing them with our former object, we find
two separate resemblances, in what formerly seemed, and really is,
perfectly inseparable. After a little more practice of this kind,
we begin to distinguish the figure from the colour by a distinction
of reason; that is, we consider the figure and colour together,
since they are in effect the same and undistinguishable; but still
view them in different aspects, according to the resemblances, of
which they are susceptible. When we would consider only the figure
of the globe of white marble, we form in reality an idea both of
the figure and colour, but tacitly carry our eye to its resemblance
with the globe of black marble: And in the same manner, when we
would consider its colour only, we turn our view to its resemblance
with the cube of white marble. By this means we accompany our ideas
with a kind of reflection, of which custom renders us, in a great
measure, insensible. A person, who desires us to consider the
figure of a globe of white marble without thinking on its colour,
desires an impossibility but his meaning is, that we should
consider the figure and colour together, but still keep in our eye
the resemblance to the globe of black marble, or that to any other
globe of whatever colour or substance.
PART II. OF THE IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME.
SECT. I. OF THE INFINITE DIVISIBILITY OF OUR IDEAS OF
SPACE AND TIME.