OF THE EFFECTS OF OTHER RELATIONS AND OTHER HABITS.
However convincing the foregoing arguments may appear, we must not
rest contented with them, but must turn the subject on every side, in
order to find some new points of view, from which we may illustrate
and confirm such extraordinary and such fundamental principles. A
scrupulous hesitation to receive any new hypothesis is so laudable a
disposition in philosophers, and so necessary to the examination of
truth, that it deserves to be complied with, and requires that every
argument be produced which may tend to their satisfaction, and every
objection removed which may stop them in their reasoning.
I have often observed, that, beside cause and effect, the two relations
of resemblance and contiguity are to be considered as associating
principles of thought, and as capable of conveying the imagination from
one idea to another. I have also observed, that when of two objects,
connected together by any of these relations, one is immediately
present to the memory or senses, not only the mind is conveyed to
its co-relative by means of the associating principle, but likewise
conceives it with an additional force and vigour, by the united
operation of that principle, and of the present impression. All this
I have observed, in order to confirm, by analogy, my explication of
our judgments concerning cause and effect. But this very argument may
perhaps be turned against me, and, instead of a confirmation of my
hypothesis, may become an objection to it. For it may be said, that
if all the parts of that hypothesis be true, viz. _that_ these three
species of relation are derived from the same principles; _that_ their
effects, in enforcing and enlivening our ideas, are the same; and
_that_ belief is nothing but a more forcible and vivid conception of an
idea; it should follow, that that action of the mind may not only be
derived from the relation of cause and effect, but also from those of
contiguity and resemblance. But as we find by experience that belief
arises only from causation, and that we can draw no inference from one
object to another, except they be connected by this relation, we may
conclude, that there is some error in that reasoning which leads us
into such difficulties.
This is the objection: let us now consider its solution. 'Tis evident,
that whatever is present to the memory, striking upon the mind with
a vivacity which resembles an immediate impression, must become of
considerable moment in all the operations of the mind, and must easily
distinguish itself above the mere fictions of the imagination. Of
these impressions or ideas of the memory we form a kind of system,
comprehending whatever we remember to have been present, either to our
internal perception or senses; and every particular of that system,
joined to the present impressions, we are pleased to call a _reality_.
But the mind stops not here. For finding, that with this system of
perceptions there is another connected by custom, or, if you will,
by the relation of cause or effect, it proceeds to the consideration
of their ideas; and as it feels that 'tis in a manner necessarily
determined to view these particular ideas, and that the custom or
relation, by which it is determined, admits not of the least change,
it forms them into a new system, which it likewise dignifies with the
title of _realities_. The first of these systems is the object of the
memory and senses; the second of the judgment.
'Tis this latter principle which peoples the world, and brings us
acquainted with such existences as, by their removal in time and
place, lie beyond the reach of the senses and memory. By means of it
I paint the universe in my imagination, and fix my attention on any
part of it I please. I form an idea of Rome, which I neither see nor
remember, but which is connected with such impressions as I remember
to have received from the conversation and books of travellers and
historians. This idea of Rome I place in a certain situation on the
idea of an object which I call the globe. I join to it the conception
of a particular government, and religion and manners. I look backward
and consider its first foundation, its several revolutions, successes
and misfortunes. All this, and every thing else which I believe, are
nothing but ideas, though, by their force and settled order, arising
from custom and the relation of cause and effect, they distinguish
themselves from the other ideas, which are merely the offspring of the
imagination.
As to the influence of contiguity and resemblance, we may observe, that
if the contiguous and resembling object be comprehended in this system
of realities, there is no doubt but these two relations will assist
that of cause and effect, and infix the related idea with more force
in the imagination. This I shall enlarge upon presently. Meanwhile I
shall carry my observation a step farther, and assert, that even where
the related object is but feigned, the relation will serve to enliven
the idea, and increase its influence. A poet, no doubt, will be the
better able to form a strong description of the Elysian fields, that he
prompts his imagination by the view of a beautiful meadow or garden;
as at another time he may, by his fancy, place himself in the midst of
these fabulous regions, that by the feigned contiguity he may enliven
his imagination.
But though I cannot altogether exclude the relations of resemblance and
contiguity from operating on the fancy in this manner, 'tis observable
that, when single, their influence is very feeble and uncertain. As
the relation of cause and effect is requisite to persuade us of any
real existence, so is this persuasion requisite to give force to these
other relations. For where upon the appearance of an impression we not
only feign another object, but likewise arbitrarily, and of our mere
good-will and pleasure give it a particular relation to the impression,
this can have but a small effect upon the mind; nor is there any
reason, why, upon the return of the same impression, we should be
determined to place the same object in the same relation to it. There
is no manner of necessity for the mind to feign any resembling and
contiguous objects; and if it feigns such, there is as little necessity
for it always to confine itself to the same, without any difference or
variation. And indeed such a fiction is founded on so little reason,
that nothing but pure _caprice_ can determine the mind to form it; and
that principle being fluctuating and uncertain, 'tis impossible it can
ever operate with any considerable degree of force and constancy. The
mind foresees and anticipates the change; and even from the very first
instant feels the looseness of its actions, and the weak hold it has
of its objects. And as this imperfection is very sensible in every
single instance, it still increases by experience and observation, when
we compare the several instances we may remember, and form a _general
rule_ against the reposing any assurance in those momentary glimpses of
light, which arise in the imagination from a feigned resemblance and
contiguity.
The relation of cause and effect has all the opposite advantages. The
objects it presents are fixed and unalterable. The impressions of the
memory never change in any considerable degree; and each impression
draws along with it a precise idea, which takes its place in the
imagination, as something solid and real, certain and invariable. The
thought is always determined to pass from the impression to the idea,
and from that particular impression to that particular idea, without
any choice or hesitation.
But not content with removing this objection, I shall endeavour to
extract from it a proof of the present doctrine. Contiguity and
resemblance have an effect much inferior to causation; but still
have some effect, and augment the conviction of any opinion, and the
vivacity of any conception. If this can be proved in several new
instances, beside what we have already observed, 'twill be allowed
no inconsiderable argument, that belief is nothing but a lively idea
related to a present impression.
To begin with contiguity; it has been remarked among the Mahometans
as well as Christians, that those _pilgrims_, who have seen Mecca or
the Holy Land are ever after more faithful and zealous believers, than
those who have not had that advantage. A man, whose memory presents
him with a lively image of the Red Sea, and the Desert, and Jerusalem,
and Galilee, can never doubt of any miraculous events, which are
related either by Moses or the Evangelists. The lively idea of the
places passes by an easy transition to the facts, which are supposed
to have been related to them by contiguity, and increases the belief
by increasing the vivacity of the conception. The remembrance of
these fields and rivers has the same influence on the vulgar as a new
argument, and from the same causes.
We may form a like observation concerning _resemblance_. We have
remarked, that the conclusion which we draw from a present object to
its absent cause or effect, is never founded on any qualities which
we observe in that object, considered in itself; or, in other words,
that 'tis impossible to determine otherwise than by experience, what
will result from any phenomenon, or what has preceded it. But though
this be so evident in itself, that it seemed not to require any proof,
yet some philosophers have imagined that there is an apparent cause
for the communication of motion, and that a reasonable man might
immediately infer the motion of one body from the impulse of another,
without having recourse to any past observation. That this opinion is
false will admit of an easy proof. For if such an inference may be
drawn merely from the ideas of body, of motion, and of impulse, it must
amount to a demonstration, and must imply the absolute impossibility of
any contrary supposition. Every effect, then, beside the communication
of motion, implies a formal contradiction; and 'tis impossible not only
that it can exist, but also that it can be conceived. But we may soon
satisfy ourselves of the contrary, by forming a clear and consistent
idea of one body's moving upon another, and of its rest immediately
upon the contact; or of its returning back in the same line in which
it came; or of its annihilation, or circular or elliptical motion:
and in short, of an infinite number of other changes, which they may
suppose it to undergo. These suppositions are all consistent and
natural; and the reason why we imagine the communication of motion
to be more consistent and natural, not only than those suppositions,
but also than any other natural effect, is founded on the relation of
_resemblance_ betwixt the cause and effect, which is here united to
experience, and binds the objects in the closest and most intimate
manner to each other, so as to make us imagine them to be absolutely
inseparable. Resemblance, then, has the same or a parallel influence
with experience; and as the only immediate effect of experience is to
associate our ideas together, it follows that all belief arises from
the association of ideas, according to my hypothesis.
'Tis universally allowed by the writers on optics, that the eye at
all times sees an equal number of physical points, and that a man on
the top of a mountain has no larger an image presented to his senses,
than when he is cooped up in the narrowest court or chamber. 'Tis only
by experience that he infers the greatness of the object from some
peculiar qualities of the image; and this inference of the judgment
he confounds with sensation, as is common on other occasions. Now
'tis evident, that the inference of the judgment is here much more
lively than what is usual in our common reasonings, and that a man
has a more vivid conception of the vast extent of the ocean from the
image he receives by the eye, when he stands on the top of the high
promontory, than merely from hearing the roaring of the waters. He
feels a more sensible pleasure from its magnificence, which is a proof
of a more lively idea; and he confounds his judgment with sensation,
which is another proof of it. But as the inference is equally certain
and immediate in both cases, this superior vivacity of our conception
in one case can proceed from nothing but this, that in drawing an
inference from the sight, beside the customary conjunction, there is
also a resemblance betwixt the image and the object we infer, which
strengthens the relation, and conveys the vivacity of the impression to
the related idea with an easier and more natural movement.
No weakness of human nature is more universal and conspicuous than what
we commonly call _credulity_, or a too easy faith in the testimony of
others; and this weakness is also very naturally accounted for from
the influence of resemblance. When we receive any matter of fact upon
human testimony, our faith arises from the very same origin as our
inferences from causes to effects, and from effects to causes; nor
is there any thing but our _experience_ of the governing principles
of human nature, which can give us any assurance of the veracity of
men. But though experience be the true standard of this, as well as
of all other judgments, we seldom regulate ourselves entirely by it,
but have a remarkable propensity to believe whatever is reported,
even concerning apparitions, enchantments, and prodigies, however
contrary to daily experience and observation. The words or discourses
of others have an intimate connexion with certain ideas in their mind;
and these ideas have also a connexion with the facts or objects which
they represent. This latter connexion is generally much over-rated,
and commands our assent beyond what experience will justify, which can
proceed from nothing beside the resemblance betwixt the ideas and the
facts. Other effects only point out their causes in an oblique manner;
but the testimony of men does it directly, and is to be considered as
an image as well as an effect. No wonder, therefore, we are so rash in
drawing our inferences from it, and are less guided by experience in
our judgments concerning it, than in those upon any other subject.
As resemblance, when conjoined with causation, fortifies our
reasonings, so the want of it in any very great degree is able almost
entirely to destroy them. Of this there is a remarkable instance in
the universal carelessness and stupidity of men with regard to a
future state, where they show as obstinate an incredulity, as they
do a blind credulity on other occasions. There is not indeed a more
ample matter of wonder to the studious, and of regret to the pious
man, than to observe the negligence of the bulk of mankind concerning
their approaching condition; and 'tis with reason, that many eminent
theologians have not scrupled to affirm, that though the vulgar have
no formal principles of infidelity, yet they are really infidels in
their hearts, and have nothing like what we can call a belief of
the eternal duration of their souls. For let us consider on the one
hand what divines have displayed with such eloquence concerning the
importance of eternity; and at the same time reflect, that though in
matters of rhetoric we ought to lay our account with some exaggeration,
we must in this case allow, that the strongest figures are infinitely
inferior to the subject: and after this, let us view on the other hand
the prodigious security of men in this particular: I ask, if these
people really believe what is inculcated on them, and what they pretend
to affirm; and the answer is obviously in the negative. As belief is
an act of the mind arising from custom, 'tis not strange the want of
resemblance should overthrow what custom has established, and diminish
the force of the idea, as much as that latter principle increases it.
A future state is so far removed from our comprehension, and we have
so obscure an idea of the manner in which we shall exist after the
dissolution of the body, that all the reasons we can invent, however
strong in themselves, and however much assisted by education, are never
able with slow imaginations to surmount this difficulty, or bestow a
sufficient authority and force on the idea. I rather choose to ascribe
this incredulity to the faint idea we form of our future condition,
derived from its want of resemblance to the present life, than to that
derived from its remoteness. For I observe, that men are every where
concerned about what may happen after their death, provided it regard
this world; and that there are few to whom their name, their family,
their friends, and their country are in any period of time entirely
indifferent.
And indeed the want of resemblance in this case so entirely destroys
belief, that except those few who, upon cool reflection on the
importance of the subject, have taken care by repeated meditation
to imprint in their minds the arguments for a future state, there
scarce are any who believe the immortality of the soul with a true
and established judgment; such as is derived from the testimony of
travellers and historians. This appears very conspicuously wherever
men have occasion to compare the pleasures and pains, the rewards and
punishments of this life with those of a future; even though the case
does not concern themselves, and there is no violent passion to disturb
their judgment. The Roman Catholics are certainly the most zealous of
any sect in the Christian world; and yet you'll find few among the
more sensible part of that communion who do not blame the Gunpowder
Treason, and the massacre of St Bartholomew, as cruel and barbarous,
though projected or executed against those very people, whom without
any scruple they condemn to eternal and infinite punishments. All we
can say in excuse for this inconsistency is, that they really do not
believe what they affirm concerning a future state; nor is there any
better proof of it than the very inconsistency.
We may add to this a remark, that in matters of religion men take a
pleasure in being terrified, and that no preachers are so popular as
those who excite the most dismal and gloomy passions. In the common
affairs of life, where we feel and are with the solidity of the
subject, nothing can be more disagreeable than fear and terror; and
'tis only in dramatic performances and in religious discourses that
they ever give pleasure. In these latter cases the imagination reposes
itself indolently on the idea; and the passion being softened by the
want of belief in the subject, has no more than the agreeable effect of
enlivening the mind and fixing the attention.
The present hypothesis will receive additional confirmation, if we
examine the effects of other kinds of custom, as well as of other
relations. To understand this we must consider that custom, to which
I attribute all belief and reasoning, may operate upon the mind in
invigorating an idea after two several ways. For supposing that, in
all past experience, we have found two objects to have been always
conjoined together, 'tis evident, that upon the appearance of one of
these objects in an impression, we must, from custom, make an easy
transition to the idea of that object, which usually attends it; and
by means of the present impression and easy transition must conceive
that idea in a stronger and more lively manner than we do any loose
floating image of the fancy. But let us next suppose, that a mere idea
alone, without any of this curious and almost artificial preparation,
should frequently make its appearance in the mind, this idea must,
by degrees, acquire a facility and force; and both by its firm hold
and easy introduction distinguish itself from any new and unusual
idea. This is the only particular in which these two kinds of custom
agree; and if it appear that their effects on the judgment are similar
and proportionable, we may certainly conclude, that the foregoing
explication of that faculty is satisfactory. But can we doubt of this
agreement in their influence on the judgment, when we consider the
nature and effects of _education_?
All those opinions and notions of things, to which we have been
accustomed from our infancy, take such deep root, that 'tis impossible
for us, by all the powers of reason and experience, to eradicate them;
and this habit not only approaches in its influence, but even on
many occasions prevails over that which arises from the constant and
inseparable union of causes and effects. Here we must not be contented
with saying, that the vividness of the idea produces the belief:
we must maintain that they are individually the same. The frequent
repetition of any idea infixes it in the imagination; but could never
possibly of itself produce belief, if that act of the mind was, by the
original constitution of our natures, annexed only to a reasoning and
comparison of ideas. Custom may lead us into some false comparison
of ideas. This is the utmost effect we can conceive of it; but 'tis
certain it could never supply the place of that comparison, nor produce
any act of the mind which naturally belonged to that principle.
A person that has lost a leg or an arm by amputation endeavours for
a long time afterwards to serve himself with them. After the death
of any one, 'tis a common remark of the whole family, but especially
the servants, that they can scarce believe him to be dead, but still
imagine him to be in his chamber or in any other place, where they
were accustomed to find him. I have often heard in conversation, after
talking of a person that is any way celebrated, that one, who has no
acquaintance with him, will say, _I have never seen such a one, but
almost fancy I have, so often have I heard talk of him_. All these are
parallel instances.
If we consider this argument from _education_ in a proper light, 'twill
appear very convincing; and the more so, that 'tis founded on one
of the most common phenomena that is any where to be met with. I am
persuaded that, upon examination, we shall find more than one half of
those opinions that prevail among mankind to be owing to education, and
that the principles which are thus implicitly embraced, overbalance
those, which are owing either to abstract reasoning or experience.
As liars, by the frequent repetition of their lies, come at last to
remember them; so the judgment, or rather the imagination, by the like
means, may have ideas so strongly imprinted on it, and conceive them
in so full a light, that they may operate upon the mind in the same
manner with those which the senses, memory, or reason present to us.
But as education is an artificial and not a natural cause, and as its
maxims are frequently contrary to reason, and even to themselves in
different times and places, it is never upon that account recognised
by philosophers; though in reality it be built almost on the same
foundation of custom and repetition as our reasonings from causes and
effects.[8]
[8] In general we may observe, that as our assent to all probable
reasonings is founded on the vivacity of ideas, it resembles many
of those whimsies and prejudices which are rejected under the
opprobrious character of being the offspring of the imagination. By
this expression it appears, that the word imagination, is commonly used
in two different senses; and though nothing be more contrary to true
philosophy than this inaccuracy, yet, in the following reasonings, I
have often been obliged to fall into it. When I oppose the imagination
to the memory, I mean the faculty by which we form our fainter ideas.
When I oppose it to reason, I mean the same faculty, excluding only our
demonstrative and probable reasonings. When I oppose it to neither,
'tis indifferent whether it be taken in the larger or more limited
sense, or at least the context will sufficiently explain the meaning.