INTRODUCTION.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER I.
CHAPTER II.
CHAPTER III.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER V.
CHAPTER VI.
CHAPTER VII.
CHAPTER VIII.
CHAPTER IX.
CHAPTER X.
CHAPTER XI.
CHAPTER XII.
CHAPTER XIII.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHAPTER XV.
CHAPTER XVI.
CHAPTER XVII.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CHAPTER XIX.
CHAPTER XX.
CHAPTER XXI.
CHAPTER XXII.
CHAPTER XXIII.
CHAPTER XXIV.
CHAPTER XXV.
CHAPTER XXVI.
CHAPTER XXVII.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
CHAPTER XXIX.
CHAPTER XXX.
CHAPTER XXXI.
CHAPTER XXXII.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE EPISTLE TO THE READER
READER,I
have put into thy hands what has been the diversion of some of my
idle and heavy hours. If it has the good luck to prove so of any of
thine, and thou hast but half so much pleasure in reading as I had in
writing it, thou wilt as little think thy money, as I do my pains,
ill bestowed. Mistake not this for a commendation of my work; nor
conclude, because I was pleased with the doing of it, that therefore
I am fondly taken with it now it is done. He that hawks at larks and
sparrows has no less sport, though a much less considerable quarry,
than he that flies at nobler game: and he is little acquainted with
the subject of this treatise—the UNDERSTANDING—who does not know
that, as it is the most elevated faculty of the soul, so it is
employed with a greater and more constant delight than any of the
other. Its searches after truth are a sort of hawking and hunting,
wherein the very pursuit makes a great part of the pleasure. Every
step the mind takes in its progress towards Knowledge makes some
discovery, which is not only new, but the best too, for the time at
least.For
the understanding, like the eye, judging of objects only by its own
sight, cannot but be pleased with what it discovers, having less
regret for what has escaped it, because it is unknown. Thus he who
has raised himself above the alms-basket, and, not content to live
lazily on scraps of begged opinions, sets his own thoughts on work,
to find and follow truth, will (whatever he lights on) not miss the
hunter's satisfaction; every moment of his pursuit will reward his
pains with some delight; and he will have reason to think his time
not ill spent, even when he cannot much boast of any great
acquisition.This,
Reader, is the entertainment of those who let loose their own
thoughts, and follow them in writing; which thou oughtest not to envy
them, since they afford thee an opportunity of the like diversion, if
thou wilt make use of thy own thoughts in reading. It is to them, if
they are thy own, that I refer myself: but if they are taken upon
trust from others, it is no great matter what they are; they are not
following truth, but some meaner consideration; and it is not worth
while to be concerned what he says or thinks, who says or thinks only
as he is directed by another. If thou judgest for thyself I know thou
wilt judge candidly, and then I shall not be harmed or offended,
whatever be thy censure. For though it be certain that there is
nothing in this Treatise of the truth whereof I am not fully
persuaded, yet I consider myself as liable to mistakes as I can think
thee, and know that this book must stand or fall with thee, not by
any opinion I have of it, but thy own. If thou findest little in it
new or instructive to thee, thou art not to blame me for it. It was
not meant for those that had already mastered this subject, and made
a thorough acquaintance with their own understandings; but for my own
information, and the satisfaction of a few friends, who acknowledged
themselves not to have sufficiently considered it.Were
it fit to trouble thee with the history of this Essay, I should tell
thee, that five or six friends meeting at my chamber, and discoursing
on a subject very remote from this, found themselves quickly at a
stand, by the difficulties that rose on every side. After we had
awhile puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer a resolution of
those doubts which perplexed us, it came into my thoughts that we
took a wrong course; and that before we set ourselves upon inquiries
of that nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and
see what OBJECTS our understandings were, or were not, fitted to deal
with. This I proposed to the company, who all readily assented; and
thereupon it was agreed that this should be our first inquiry. Some
hasty and undigested thoughts, on a subject I had never before
considered, which I set down against our next meeting, gave the first
entrance into this Discourse; which having been thus begun by chance,
was continued by intreaty; written by incoherent parcels; and after
long intervals of neglect, resumed again, as my humour or occasions
permitted; and at last, in a retirement where an attendance on my
health gave me leisure, it was brought into that order thou now seest
it.This
discontinued way of writing may have occasioned, besides others, two
contrary faults, viz., that too little and too much may be said in
it. If thou findest anything wanting, I shall be glad that what I
have written gives thee any desire that I should have gone further.
If it seems too much to thee, thou must blame the subject; for when I
put pen to paper, I thought all I should have to say on this matter
would have been contained in one sheet of paper; but the further I
went the larger prospect I had; new discoveries led me still on, and
so it grew insensibly to the bulk it now appears in. I will not deny,
but possibly it might be reduced to a narrower compass than it is,
and that some parts of it might be contracted, the way it has been
writ in, by catches, and many long intervals of interruption, being
apt to cause some repetitions. But to confess the truth, I am now too
lazy, or too busy, to make it shorter. I am not ignorant how little I
herein consult my own reputation, when I knowingly let it go with a
fault, so apt to disgust the most judicious, who are always the
nicest readers. But they who know sloth is apt to content itself with
any excuse, will pardon me if mine has prevailed on me, where I think
I have a very good one. I will not therefore allege in my defence,
that the same notion, having different respects, may be convenient or
necessary to prove or illustrate several parts of the same discourse,
and that so it has happened in many parts of this: but waiving that,
I shall frankly avow that I have sometimes dwelt long upon the same
argument, and expressed it different ways, with a quite different
design. I pretend not to publish this Essay for the information of
men of large thoughts and quick apprehensions; to such masters of
knowledge I profess myself a scholar, and therefore warn them
beforehand not to expect anything here, but what, being spun out of
my own coarse thoughts, is fitted to men of my own size, to whom,
perhaps, it will not be unacceptable that I have taken some pains to
make plain and familiar to their thoughts some truths which
established prejudice, or the abstractedness of the ideas themselves,
might render difficult. Some objects had need be turned on every
side; and when the notion is new, as I confess some of these are to
me; or out of the ordinary road, as I suspect they will appear to
others, it is not one simple view of it that will gain it admittance
into every understanding, or fix it there with a clear and lasting
impression. There are few, I believe, who have not observed in
themselves or others, that what in one way of proposing was very
obscure, another way of expressing it has made very clear and
intelligible; though afterwards the mind found little difference in
the phrases, and wondered why one failed to be understood more than
the other. But everything does not hit alike upon every man's
imagination. We have our understandings no less different than our
palates; and he that thinks the same truth shall be equally relished
by every one in the same dress, may as well hope to feast every one
with the same sort of cookery: the meat may be the same, and the
nourishment good, yet every one not be able to receive it with that
seasoning; and it must be dressed another way, if you will have it go
down with some, even of strong constitutions. The truth is, those who
advised me to publish it, advised me, for this reason, to publish it
as it is: and since I have been brought to let it go abroad, I desire
it should be understood by whoever gives himself the pains to read
it. I have so little affection to be in print, that if I were not
flattered this Essay might be of some use to others, as I think it
has been to me, I should have confined it to the view of some
friends, who gave the first occasion to it. My appearing therefore in
print being on purpose to be as useful as I may, I think it necessary
to make what I have to say as easy and intelligible to all sorts of
readers as I can. And I had much rather the speculative and
quick-sighted should complain of my being in some parts tedious, than
that any one, not accustomed to abstract speculations, or
prepossessed with different notions, should mistake or not comprehend
my meaning.It
will possibly be censured as a great piece of vanity or insolence in
me, to pretend to instruct this our knowing age; it amounting to
little less, when I own, that I publish this Essay with hopes it may
be useful to others. But, if it may be permitted to speak freely of
those who with a feigned modesty condemn as useless what they
themselves write, methinks it savours much more of vanity or
insolence to publish a book for any other end; and he fails very much
of that respect he owes the public, who prints, and consequently
expects men should read, that wherein he intends not they should meet
with anything of use to themselves or others: and should nothing else
be found allowable in this Treatise, yet my design will not cease to
be so; and the goodness of my intention ought to be some excuse for
the worthlessness of my present. It is that chiefly which secures me
from the fear of censure, which I expect not to escape more than
better writers. Men's principles, notions, and relishes are so
different, that it is hard to find a book which pleases or displeases
all men. I acknowledge the age we live in is not the least knowing,
and therefore not the most easy to be satisfied. If I have not the
good luck to please, yet nobody ought to be offended with me. I
plainly tell all my readers, except half a dozen, this Treatise was
not at first intended for them; and therefore they need not be at the
trouble to be of that number. But yet if any one thinks fit to be
angry and rail at it, he may do it securely, for I shall find some
better way of spending my time than in such kind of conversation. I
shall always have the satisfaction to have aimed sincerely at truth
and usefulness, though in one of the meanest ways. The commonwealth
of learning is not at this time without master-builders, whose mighty
designs, in advancing the sciences, will leave lasting monuments to
the admiration of posterity: but every one must not hope to be a
Boyle or a Sydenham; and in an age that produces such masters as the
great Huygenius and the incomparable Mr. Newton, with some others of
that strain, it is ambition enough to be employed as an
under-labourer in clearing the ground a little, and removing some of
the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge;—which certainly had
been very much more advanced in the world, if the endeavours of
ingenious and industrious men had not been much cumbered with the
learned but frivolous use of uncouth, affected, or unintelligible
terms, introduced into the sciences, and there made an art of, to
that degree that Philosophy, which is nothing but the true knowledge
of things, was thought unfit or incapable to be brought into
well-bred company and polite conversation. Vague and insignificant
forms of speech, and abuse of language, have so long passed for
mysteries of science; and hard and misapplied words, with little or
no meaning, have, by prescription, such a right to be mistaken for
deep learning and height of speculation, that it will not be easy to
persuade either those who speak or those who hear them, that they are
but the covers of ignorance, and hindrance of true knowledge. To
break in upon the sanctuary of vanity and ignorance will be, I
suppose, some service to human understanding; though so few are apt
to think they deceive or are deceived in the use of words; or that
the language of the sect they are of has any faults in it which ought
to be examined or corrected, that I hope I shall be pardoned if I
have in the Third Book dwelt long on this subject, and endeavoured to
make it so plain, that neither the inveterateness of the mischief,
nor the prevalency of the fashion, shall be any excuse for those who
will not take care about the meaning of their own words, and will not
suffer the significancy of their expressions to be inquired into.I
have been told that a short Epitome of this Treatise, which was
printed in 1688, was by some condemned without reading, because
INNATE IDEAS were denied in it; they too hastily concluding, that if
innate ideas were not supposed, there would be little left either of
the notion or proof of spirits. If any one take the like offence at
the entrance of this Treatise, I shall desire him to read it through;
and then I hope he will be convinced, that the taking away false
foundations is not to the prejudice but advantage of truth, which is
never injured or endangered so much as when mixed with, or built on,
falsehood. In the Second Edition I added as followeth:—The
bookseller will not forgive me if I say nothing of this New Edition,
which he has promised, by the correctness of it, shall make amends
for the many faults committed in the former. He desires too, that it
should be known that it has one whole new chapter concerning
Identity, and many additions and amendments in other places. These I
must inform my reader are not all new matter, but most of them either
further confirmation of what I had said, or explications, to prevent
others being mistaken in the sense of what was formerly printed, and
not any variation in me from it.I
must only except the alterations I have made in Book II. chap. xxi.What
I had there written concerning Liberty and the Will, I thought
deserved as accurate a view as I am capable of; those subjects having
in all ages exercised the learned part of the world with questions
and difficulties, that have not a little perplexed morality and
divinity, those parts of knowledge that men are most concerned to be
clear in. Upon a closer inspection into the working of men's minds,
and a stricter examination of those motives and views they are turned
by, I have found reason somewhat to alter the thoughts I formerly had
concerning that which gives the last determination to the Will in all
voluntary actions. This I cannot forbear to acknowledge to the world
with as much freedom and readiness; as I at first published what then
seemed to me to be right; thinking myself more concerned to quit and
renounce any opinion of my own, than oppose that of another, when
truth appears against it. For it is truth alone I seek, and that will
always be welcome to me, when or from whencesoever it comes. But what
forwardness soever I have to resign any opinion I have, or to recede
from anything I have writ, upon the first evidence of any error in
it; yet this I must own, that I have not had the good luck to receive
any light from those exceptions I have met with in print against any
part of my book, nor have, from anything that has been urged against
it, found reason to alter my sense in any of the points that have
been questioned. Whether the subject I have in hand requires often
more thought and attention than cursory readers, at least such as are
prepossessed, are willing to allow; or whether any obscurity in my
expressions casts a cloud over it, and these notions are made
difficult to others' apprehensions in my way of treating them; so it
is, that my meaning, I find, is often mistaken, and I have not the
good luck to be everywhere rightly understood.Of
this the ingenious author of the Discourse Concerning the Nature of
Man has given me a late instance, to mention no other. For the
civility of his expressions, and the candour that belongs to his
order, forbid me to think that he would have closed his Preface with
an insinuation, as if in what I had said, Book II. ch. xxvii,
concerning the third rule which men refer their actions to, I went
about to make virtue vice and vice virtue, unless he had mistaken my
meaning; which he could not have done if he had given himself the
trouble to consider what the argument was I was then upon, and what
was the chief design of that chapter, plainly enough set down in the
fourth section and those following. For I was there not laying down
moral rules, but showing the original and nature of moral ideas, and
enumerating the rules men make use of in moral relations, whether
these rules were true or false: and pursuant thereto I tell what is
everywhere called virtue and vice; which "alters not the nature
of things," though men generally do judge of and denominate
their actions according to the esteem and fashion of the place and
sect they are of.If
he had been at the pains to reflect on what I had said, Bk. I. ch.
ii. sect. 18, and Bk. II. ch. xxviii. sect. 13, 14, 15 and 20, he
would have known what I think of the eternal and unalterable nature
of right and wrong, and what I call virtue and vice. And if he had
observed that in the place he quotes I only report as a matter of
fact what OTHERS call virtue and vice, he would not have found it
liable to any great exception. For I think I am not much out in
saying that one of the rules made use of in the world for a ground or
measure of a moral relation is—that esteem and reputation which
several sorts of actions find variously in the several societies of
men, according to which they are there called virtues or vices. And
whatever authority the learned Mr. Lowde places in his Old English
Dictionary, I daresay it nowhere tells him (if I should appeal to it)
that the same action is not in credit, called and counted a virtue,
in one place, which, being in disrepute, passes for and under the
name of vice in another. The taking notice that men bestow the names
of 'virtue' and 'vice' according to this rule of Reputation is all I
have done, or can be laid to my charge to have done, towards the
making vice virtue or virtue vice. But the good man does well, and as
becomes his calling, to be watchful in such points, and to take the
alarm even at expressions, which, standing alone by themselves, might
sound ill and be suspected.'Tis
to this zeal, allowable in his function, that I forgive his citing as
he does these words of mine (ch. xxviii. sect. II): "Even the
exhortations of inspired teachers have not feared to appeal to common
repute, Philip, iv. 8;" without taking notice of those
immediately preceding, which introduce them, and run thus: "Whereby
even in the corruption of manners, the true boundaries of the law of
nature, which ought to be the rule of virtue and vice, were pretty
well preserved. So that even the exhortations of inspired teachers,"
&c. By which words, and the rest of that section, it is plain
that I brought that passage of St. Paul, not to prove that the
general measure of what men called virtue and vice throughout the
world was the reputation and fashion of each particular society
within itself; but to show that, though it were so, yet, for reasons
I there give, men, in that way of denominating their actions, did not
for the most part much stray from the Law of Nature; which is that
standing and unalterable rule by which they ought to judge of the
moral rectitude and gravity of their actions, and accordingly
denominate them virtues or vices. Had Mr. Lowde considered this, he
would have found it little to his purpose to have quoted this passage
in a sense I used it not; and would I imagine have spared the
application he subjoins to it, as not very necessary. But I hope this
Second Edition will give him satisfaction on the point, and that this
matter is now so expressed as to show him there was no cause for
scruple.Though
I am forced to differ from him in these apprehensions he has
expressed, in the latter end of his preface, concerning what I had
said about virtue and vice, yet we are better agreed than he thinks
in what he says in his third chapter (p. 78) concerning "natural
inscription and innate notions." I shall not deny him the
privilege he claims (p. 52), to state the question as he pleases,
especially when he states it so as to leave nothing in it contrary to
what I have said. For, according to him, "innate notions, being
conditional things, depending upon the concurrence of several other
circumstances in order to the soul's exerting them," all that he
says for "innate, imprinted, impressed notions" (for of
innate IDEAS he says nothing at all), amounts at last only to
this—that there are certain propositions which, though the soul
from the beginning, or when a man is born, does not know, yet "by
assistance from the outward senses, and the help of some previous
cultivation," it may AFTERWARDS come certainly to know the truth
of; which is no more than what I have affirmed in my First Book. For
I suppose by the "soul's exerting them," he means its
beginning to know them; or else the soul's 'exerting of notions' will
be to me a very unintelligible expression; and I think at best is a
very unfit one in this, it misleading men's thoughts by an
insinuation, as if these notions were in the mind before the 'soul
exerts them,' i. e. before they are known;—whereas truly before
they are known, there is nothing of them in the mind but a capacity
to know them, when the 'concurrence of those circumstances,' which
this ingenious author thinks necessary 'in order to the soul's
exerting them,' brings them into our knowledge.P.
52 I find him express it thus: 'These natural notions are not so
imprinted upon the soul as that they naturally and necessarily exert
themselves (even in children and idiots) without any assistance from
the outward senses, or without the help of some previous
cultivation.' Here, he says, they 'exert themselves,' as p. 78, that
the 'soul exerts them.' When he has explained to himself or others
what he means by 'the soul's exerting innate notions,' or their
'exerting themselves;' and what that 'previous cultivation and
circumstances' in order to their being exerted are—he will I
suppose find there is so little of controversy between him and me on
the point, bating that he calls that 'exerting of notions' which I in
a more vulgar style call 'knowing,' that I have reason to think he
brought in my name on this occasion only out of the pleasure he has
to speak civilly of me; which I must gratefully acknowledge he has
done everywhere he mentions me, not without conferring on me, as some
others have done, a title I have no right to.There
are so many instances of this, that I think it justice to my reader
and myself to conclude, that either my book is plainly enough written
to be rightly understood by those who peruse it with that attention
and indifferency, which every one who will give himself the pains to
read ought to employ in reading; or else that I have written mine so
obscurely that it is in vain to go about to mend it. Whichever of
these be the truth, it is myself only am affected thereby; and
therefore I shall be far from troubling my reader with what I think
might be said in answer to those several objections I have met with,
to passages here and there of my book; since I persuade myself that
he who thinks them of moment enough to be concerned whether they are
true or false, will be able to see that what is said is either not
well founded, or else not contrary to my doctrine, when I and my
opposer come both to be well understood.If
any other authors, careful that none of their good thoughts should be
lost, have published their censures of my Essay, with this honour
done to it, that they will not suffer it to be an essay, I leave it
to the public to value the obligation they have to their critical
pens, and shall not waste my reader's time in so idle or ill-natured
an employment of mine, as to lessen the satisfaction any one has in
himself, or gives to others, in so hasty a confutation of what I have
written.The
booksellers preparing for the Fourth Edition of my Essay, gave me
notice of it, that I might, if I had leisure, make any additions or
alterations I should think fit. Whereupon I thought it convenient to
advertise the reader, that besides several corrections I had made
here and there, there was one alteration which it was necessary to
mention, because it ran through the whole book, and is of consequence
to be rightly understood. What I thereupon said was this:—CLEAR
and DISTINCT ideas are terms which, though familiar and frequent in
men's mouths, I have reason to think every one who uses does not
perfectly understand. And possibly 'tis but here and there one who
gives himself the trouble to consider them so far as to know what he
himself or others precisely mean by them. I have therefore in most
places chose to put DETERMINATE or DETERMINED, instead of CLEAR and
DISTINCT, as more likely to direct men's thoughts to my meaning in
this matter. By those denominations, I mean some object in the mind,
and consequently determined, i. e. such as it is there seen and
perceived to be. This, I think, may fitly be called a determinate or
determined idea, when such as it is at any time objectively in the
mind, and so determined there, it is annexed, and without variation
determined, to a name or articulate sound, which is to be steadily
the sign of that very same object of the mind, or determinate idea.To
explain this a little more particularly. By DETERMINATE, when applied
to a simple idea, I mean that simple appearance which the mind has in
its view, or perceives in itself, when that idea is said to be in it:
by DETERMINED, when applied to a complex idea, I mean such an one as
consists of a determinate number of certain simple or less complex
ideas, joined in such a proportion and situation as the mind has
before its view, and sees in itself, when that idea is present in it,
or should be present in it, when a man gives a name to it. I say
SHOULD be, because it is not every one, nor perhaps any one, who is
so careful of his language as to use no word till he views in his
mind the precise determined idea which he resolves to make it the
sign of. The want of this is the cause of no small obscurity and
confusion in men's thoughts and discourses.I
know there are not words enough in any language to answer all the
variety of ideas that enter into men's discourses and reasonings. But
this hinders not but that when any one uses any term, he may have in
his mind a determined idea, which he makes it the sign of, and to
which he should keep it steadily annexed during that present
discourse. Where he does not, or cannot do this, he in vain pretends
to clear or distinct ideas: it is plain his are not so; and therefore
there can be expected nothing but obscurity and confusion, where such
terms are made use of which have not such a precise determination.Upon
this ground I have thought determined ideas a way of speaking less
liable to mistakes, than clear and distinct: and where men have got
such determined ideas of all that they reason, inquire, or argue
about, they will find a great part of their doubts and disputes at an
end; the greatest part of the questions and controversies that
perplex mankind depending on the doubtful and uncertain use of words,
or (which is the same) indetermined ideas, which they are made to
stand for. I have made choice of these terms to signify, (1) Some
immediate object of the mind, which it perceives and has before it,
distinct from the sound it uses as a sign of it. (2) That this idea,
thus determined, i.e. which the mind has in itself, and knows, and
sees there, be determined without any change to that name, and that
name determined to that precise idea. If men had such determined
ideas in their inquiries and discourses, they would both discern how
far their own inquiries and discourses went, and avoid the greatest
part of the disputes and wranglings they have with others.Besides
this, the bookseller will think it necessary I should advertise the
reader that there is an addition of two chapters wholly new; the one
of the Association of Ideas, the other of Enthusiasm. These, with
some other larger additions never before printed, he has engaged to
print by themselves, after the same manner, and for the same purpose,
as was done when this Essay had the second impression.In
the Sixth Edition there is very little added or altered. The greatest
part of what is new is contained in the twenty-first chapter of the
second book, which any one, if he thinks it worth while, may, with a
very little labour, transcribe into the margin of the former edition.
INTRODUCTION.
1.
An Inquiry into the Understanding pleasant and useful.Since
it is the UNDERSTANDING that sets man above the rest of sensible
beings, and gives him all the advantage and dominion which he has
over them; it is certainly a subject, even for its nobleness, worth
our labour to inquire into. The understanding, like the eye, whilst
it makes us see and perceive all other things, takes no notice of
itself; and it requires and art and pains to set it at a distance and
make it its own object. But whatever be the difficulties that lie in
the way of this inquiry; whatever it be that keeps us so much in the
dark to ourselves; sure I am that all the light we can let in upon
our minds, all the acquaintance we can make with our own
understandings, will not only be very pleasant, but bring us great
advantage, in directing our thoughts in the search of other things.2.
Design.This,
therefore, being my purpose—to inquire into the original,
certainty, and extent of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE, together with the grounds
and degrees of BELIEF, OPINION, and ASSENT;—I shall not at present
meddle with the physical consideration of the mind; or trouble myself
to examine wherein its essence consists; or by what motions of our
spirits or alterations of our bodies we come to have any SENSATION by
our organs, or any IDEAS in our understandings; and whether those
ideas do in their formation, any or all of them, depend on matter or
not. These are speculations which, however curious and entertaining,
I shall decline, as lying out of my way in the design I am now upon.
It shall suffice to my present purpose, to consider the discerning
faculties of a man, as they are employed about the objects which they
have to do with. And I shall imagine I have not wholly misemployed
myself in the thoughts I shall have on this occasion, if, in this
historical, plain method, I can give any account of the ways whereby
our understandings come to attain those notions of things we have;
and can set down any measures of the certainty of our knowledge; or
the grounds of those persuasions which are to be found amongst men,
so various, different, and wholly contradictory; and yet asserted
somewhere or other with such assurance and confidence, that he that
shall take a view of the opinions of mankind, observe their
opposition, and at the same time consider the fondness and devotion
wherewith they are embraced, the resolution and eagerness wherewith
they are maintained, may perhaps have reason to suspect, that either
there is no such thing as truth at all, or that mankind hath no
sufficient means to attain a certain knowledge of it.3.
Method.It
is therefore worth while to search out the bounds between opinion and
knowledge; and examine by what measures, in things whereof we have no
certain knowledge, we ought to regulate our assent and moderate our
persuasion. In order whereunto I shall pursue this following method:—
First, I shall inquire into the original of those ideas, notions, or
whatever else you please to call them, which a man observes, and is
conscious to himself he has in his mind; and the ways whereby the
understanding comes to be furnished with them.Secondly,
I shall endeavour to show what knowledge the understanding hath by
those ideas; and the certainty, evidence, and extent of it.Thirdly,
I shall make some inquiry into the nature and grounds of FAITH or
OPINION: whereby I mean that assent which we give to any proposition
as true, of whose truth yet we have no certain knowledge. And here we
shall have occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of ASSENT.4.
Useful to know the Extent of our Comprehension.If
by this inquiry into the nature of the understanding, I can discover
the powers thereof; how far they reach; to what things they are in
any degree proportionate; and where they fail us, I suppose it may be
of use to prevail with the busy mind of man to be more cautious in
meddling with things exceeding its comprehension; to stop when it is
at the utmost extent of its tether; and to sit down in a quiet
ignorance of those things which, upon examination, are found to be
beyond the reach of our capacities. We should not then perhaps be so
forward, out of an affectation of an universal knowledge, to raise
questions, and perplex ourselves and others with disputes about
things to which our understandings are not suited; and of which we
cannot frame in our minds any clear or distinct perceptions, or
whereof (as it has perhaps too often happened) we have not any
notions at all. If we can find out how far the understanding can
extend its view; how far it has faculties to attain certainty; and in
what cases it can only judge and guess, we may learn to content
ourselves with what is attainable by us in this state.5.
Our Capacity suited to our State and Concerns.For
though the comprehension of our understandings comes exceeding short
of the vast extent of things, yet we shall have cause enough to
magnify the bountiful Author of our being, for that proportion and
degree of knowledge he has bestowed on us, so far above all the rest
of the inhabitants of this our mansion. Men have reason to be well
satisfied with what God hath thought fit for them, since he hath
given them (as St. Peter says) [words in Greek], whatsoever is
necessary for the conveniences of life and information of virtue; and
has put within the reach of their discovery, the comfortable
provision for this life, and the way that leads to a better. How
short soever their knowledge may come of an universal or perfect
comprehension of whatsoever is, it yet secures their great
concernments, that they have light enough to lead them to the
knowledge of their Maker, and the sight of their own duties. Men may
find matter sufficient to busy their heads, and employ their hands
with variety, delight, and satisfaction, if they will not boldly
quarrel with their own constitution, and throw away the blessings
their hands are filled with, because they are not big enough to grasp
everything. We shall not have much reason to complain of the
narrowness of our minds, if we will but employ them about what may be
of use to us; for of that they are very capable. And it will be an
unpardonable, as well as childish peevishness, if we undervalue the
advantages of our knowledge, and neglect to improve it to the ends
for which it was given us, because there are some things that are set
out of the reach of it. It will be no excuse to an idle and untoward
servant, who would not attend his business by candle light, to plead
that he had not broad sunshine. The Candle that is set up in us
shines bright enough for all our purposes. The discoveries we can
make with this ought to satisfy us; and we shall then use our
understandings right, when we entertain all objects in that way and
proportion that they are suited to our faculties, and upon those
grounds they are capable of being proposed to us; and not
peremptorily or intemperately require demonstration, and demand
certainty, where probability only is to be had, and which is
sufficient to govern all our concernments. If we will disbelieve
everything, because we cannot certainly know all things, we shall do
much what as wisely as he who would not use his legs, but sit still
and perish, because he had no wings to fly.6.
Knowledge of our Capacity a Cure of Scepticism and Idleness.When
we know our own strength, we shall the better know what to undertake
with hopes of success; and when we have well surveyed the POWERS of
our own minds, and made some estimate what we may expect from them,
we shall not be inclined either to sit still, and not set our
thoughts on work at all, in despair of knowing anything; nor on the
other side, question everything, and disclaim all knowledge, because
some things are not to be understood. It is of great use to the
sailor to know the length of his line, though he cannot with it
fathom all the depths of the ocean. It is well he knows that it is
long enough to reach the bottom, at such places as are necessary to
direct his voyage, and caution him against running upon shoals that
may ruin him. Our business here is not to know all things, but those
which concern our conduct. If we can find out those measures, whereby
a rational creature, put in that state in which man is in this world,
may and ought to govern his opinions, and actions depending thereon,
we need not to be troubled that some other things escape our
knowledge.7.
Occasion of this Essay.This
was that which gave the first rise to this Essay concerning the
understanding. For I thought that the first step towards satisfying
several inquiries the mind of man was very apt to run into, was, to
take a survey of our own understandings, examine our own powers, and
see to what things they were adapted. Till that was done I suspected
we began at the wrong end, and in vain sought for satisfaction in a
quiet and sure possession of truths that most concerned us, whilst we
let loose our thoughts into the vast ocean of Being; as if all that
boundless extent were the natural and undoubted possession of our
understandings, wherein there was nothing exempt from its decisions,
or that escaped its comprehension. Thus men, extending their
inquiries beyond their capacities, and letting their thoughts wander
into those depths where they can find no sure footing, it is no
wonder that they raise questions and multiply disputes, which, never
coming to any clear resolution, are proper only to continue and
increase their doubts, and to confirm them at last in perfect
scepticism. Whereas, were the capacities of our understandings well
considered, the extent of our knowledge once discovered, and the
horizon found which sets the bounds between the enlightened and dark
parts of things; between what is and what is not comprehensible by
us, men would perhaps with less scruple acquiesce in the avowed
ignorance of the one, and employ their thoughts and discourse with
more advantage and satisfaction in the other.8.
What Idea stands for.Thus
much I thought necessary to say concerning the occasion of this
inquiry into human Understanding. But, before I proceed on to what I
have thought on this subject, I must here in the entrance beg pardon
of my reader for the frequent use of the word IDEA, which he will
find in the following treatise. It being that term which, I think,
serves best to stand for whatsoever is the OBJECT of the
understanding when a man thinks, I have used it to express whatever
is meant by PHANTASM, NOTION, SPECIES, or WHATEVER IT IS WHICH THE
MIND CAN BE EMPLOYED ABOUT IN THINKING; and I could not avoid
frequently using it. I presume it will be easily granted me, that
there are such IDEAS in men's minds: every one is conscious of them
in himself; and men's words and actions will satisfy him that they
are in others.Our
first inquiry then shall be,—how they come into the mind. BOOK INEITHER
PRINCIPLES NOR IDEAS ARE INNATE