OF THE NATURE OF THE IDEA OR BELIEF.
The idea of an object is an essential part of the belief of it, but not
the whole. We conceive many things which we do not believe. In order
then to discover more fully the nature of belief, or the qualities of
those ideas we assent to, let us weigh the following considerations.
'Tis evident, that all reasonings from causes or effects terminate
in conclusions concerning matter of fact; that is, concerning the
existence of objects or of their qualities. 'Tis also evident, that the
idea of existence is nothing different from the idea of any object, and
that when after the simple conception of any thing we would conceive
it as existent, we in reality make no addition to or alteration on
our first idea. Thus, when we affirm that God is existent, we simply
form the idea of such a Being as he is represented to us: nor is
the existence, which we attribute to him, conceived by a particular
idea, which we join to the idea of his other qualities, and can again
separate and distinguish from them. But I go farther; and, not content
with asserting, that the conception of the existence of any object
is no addition to the simple conception of it, I likewise maintain,
that the belief of the existence joins no new ideas to those, which
compose the idea of the object. When I think of God, when I think of
him as existent, and when I believe him to be existent, my idea of him
neither increases nor diminishes. But as 'tis certain there is a great
difference betwixt the simple conception of the existence of an object,
and the belief of it, and as this difference lies not in the parts or
composition of the idea which we conceive; it follows, that it must lie
in the _manner_ in which we conceive it.
Suppose a person present with me, who advances propositions, to which
I do not assent, _that Cæsar died in his bed, that silver is more
fusible than lead, or mercury heavier than gold_; 'tis evident that,
notwithstanding my incredulity, I clearly understand his meaning, and
form all the same ideas which he forms. My imagination is endowed with
the same powers as his; nor is it possible for him to conceive any
idea, which I cannot conceive; or conjoin any, which I cannot conjoin.
I therefore ask, wherein consists the difference betwixt believing
and disbelieving any proposition? The answer is easy with regard to
propositions, that are proved by intuition or demonstration. In that
case, the person who assents not only conceives the ideas according
to the proposition, but is necessarily determined to conceive them in
that particular manner, either immediately, or by the interposition of
other ideas. Whatever is absurd is unintelligible; nor is it possible
for the imagination to conceive any thing contrary to a demonstration.
But as, in reasonings from causation, and concerning matters of fact,
this absolute necessity cannot take place, and the imagination is free
to conceive both sides of the question, I still ask, _wherein consists
the difference betwixt incredulity and belief_? since in both cases the
conception of the idea is equally possible and requisite.
'Twill not be a satisfactory answer to say, that & person, who does not
assent to a proposition you advance; after having conceived the object
in the same manner with you, immediately conceives it in a different
manner, and has different ideas of it. This answer is unsatisfactory;
not because it contains any falsehood, but because it discovers not
all the truth. 'Tis confessed that, in all cases wherein we dissent
from any person, we conceive both sides of the question; but as we can
believe only one, it evidently follows, that the belief must make some
difference betwixt that conception to which we assent, and that from
which we dissent. We may mingle, and unite, and separate, and confound,
and vary our ideas in a hundred different ways; but 'till there appears
some principle, which fixes one of these different situations, we have
in reality no opinion: and this principle, as it plainly makes no
addition to our precedent ideas, can only change the _manner_ of our
conceiving them.
All the perceptions of the mind are of two kinds, viz. impressions and
ideas, which differ from each other only in their different degrees of
force and vivacity.
Our ideas are copied from our impressions, and represent them in all
their parts. When you would any way vary the idea of a particular
object, you can only increase or diminish its force and vivacity. If
you make any other change on it, it represents a different object or
impression. The case is the same as in colours. A particular shade of
any colour may acquire a new degree of liveliness or brightness without
any other variation. But when you produce any other variation, 'tis no
longer the same shade or colour; so that as belief does nothing but
vary the manner in which we conceive any object, it can only bestow on
our ideas an additional force and vivacity. An opinion therefore or
belief may be most accurately defined, _a lively idea related to or
associated with a present impression_.[6]
Here are the heads of those arguments, which lead us to this
conclusion. When we infer the existence of an object from that of
others, some object must always be present either to the memory or
senses, in order to be the foundation of our reasoning; since the mind
cannot run up with its inferences _in infinitum_. Reason can never
satisfy us that the existence of any one object does ever imply that of
another; so that when we pass from the impression of one to the idea or
belief of another, we are not determined by reason, but by custom, or
a principle of association. But belief is somewhat more than a simple
idea. 'Tis a particular manner of forming an idea: and as the same idea
can only be varied by a variation of its degrees of force and vivacity;
it follows upon the whole, that belief is a lively idea produced
by a relation to a present impression, according to the foregoing
definition.
This operation of the mind, which forms the belief of any matter of
fact, seems hitherto to have been one of the greatest mysteries of
philosophy; though no one has so much as suspected, that there was
any difficulty in explaining it. For my part, I must own, that I find
a considerable difficulty in the case; and that even when I think I
understand the subject perfectly, I am at a loss for terms to express
my meaning. I conclude, by an induction which seems to me very evident,
that an opinion or belief is nothing but an idea, that is different
from a fiction, not in the nature, or the order of its parts, but in
the _manner_ of its being conceived. But when I would explain this
_manner_, I scarce find any word that fully answers the case, but am
obliged to have recourse to every one's feeling, in order to give him
a perfect notion of this operation of the mind. An idea assented to
_feels_ different from a fictitious idea, that the fancy alone presents
to us: and this different feeling I endeavour to explain by calling
it a superior _force_, or _vivacity_, or _solidity_, or _steadiness_.
This variety of terms, which may seem so unphilosophical, is intended
only to express that act of the mind, which renders realities more
present to us than fictions, causes them to weigh more in the thought,
and gives them a superior influence on the passions and imagination.
Provided we agree about the thing, 'tis needless to dispute about the
terms. The imagination has the command over all its ideas, and can
join, and mix, and vary them in all the ways possible. It may conceive
objects with all the circumstances of place and time. It may set them,
in a manner, before our eyes in their true colours, just as they might
have existed. But as it is impossible that that faculty can ever of
itself reach belief; 'tis evident, that belief consists not in the
nature and order of our ideas, but in the manner of their conception,
and in their feeling to the mind. I confess, that 'tis impossible to
explain perfectly this feeling or manner of conception. We may make use
of words that express something near it. But its true and proper name
is _belief_, which is a term that every one sufficiently understands in
common life. And in philosophy, we can go no farther than assert, that
it is something _felt_ by the mind, which distinguishes the ideas of
the judgment from the fictions of the imagination. It gives them more
force and influence; makes them appear of greater importance; infixes
them in the mind; and renders them the governing principles of all our
actions.
This definition will also be found to be entirely conformable to every
one's feeling and experience. Nothing is more evident, than that those
ideas, to which we assent, are more strong, firm, and vivid, than the
loose reveries of a castle-builder. If one person sits down to read a
book as a romance, and another as a true history, they plainly receive
the same ideas, and in the same order; nor does the incredulity of the
one, and the belief of the other, hinder them from putting the very
same sense upon their author. His words produce the same ideas in both;
though his testimony has not the same influence on them. The latter has
a more lively conception of all the incidents. He enters deeper into
the concerns of the persons: represents to himself their actions, and
characters, and friendships, and enmities: he even goes so far as to
form a notion of their features, and air, and person. While the former,
who gives no credit to the testimony of the author, has a more faint
and languid conception of all these particulars, and, except on account
of the style and ingenuity of the composition, can receive little
entertainment from it.
[6] We may here take occasion to observe a very remarkable error,
which, being frequently inculcated in the schools, has become a kind of
established maxim, and is universally received by all logicians. This
error consists in the vulgar division of the acts of the understanding
into _conception, judgment_ and _reasoning_, and in the definitions
we give of them. Conception is defined to be the simple survey of one
or more ideas: judgment to be the separating or uniting of different
ideas: reasoning to be the separating or uniting of different ideas
by the interposition of others, which show the relation they bear to
each other. But these distinctions and definitions are faulty in very
considerable articles. For, _first_,'tis far from being true, that,
in every judgment which we form, we unite two different ideas; since
in that proposition, _God is_, or indeed any other, which regards
existence, the idea of existence is no distinct idea, which we unite
with that of the object, and which is capable of forming a compound
idea by the union. _Secondly_, as we can thus form a proposition, which
contains only one idea, so we may exert our reason without employing
more than two ideas, and without having recourse to a third to serve as
a medium betwixt them. We infer a cause immediately from its effect;
and this inference is not only a true species of reasoning, but the
strongest of all others, and more convincing than when we interpose
another idea to connect the two extremes. What we may in general affirm
concerning these three acts of the understanding is, that taking them
in a proper light, they all resolve themselves into the first, and
are nothing but particular ways of conceiving our objects. Whether
we consider a single object, or several; whether we dwell on these
objects, or run from them to others; and in whatever form or order we
survey them, the act of the mind exceeds not a simple conception; and
the only remarkable difference, which occurs on this occasion, is, when
we join belief to the conception, and are persuaded of the truth of
what we conceive. This act of the mind has never yet been explained by
any philosopher; and therefore I am at liberty to propose my hypothesis
concerning it; which is, that 'tis only a strong and steady conception
of any idea, and such as approaches in some measure to an immediate
impression.