A TREATISE OF HUMAN NATURE
By David Hume
CONTENTS
VOLUME I
INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR.
BOOK I OF THE UNDERSTANDING
PART I OF IDEAS, THEIR ORIGIN, COMPOSITION, CONNEXION,
ABSTRACTION, ETC.
SECT. I OF THE ORIGIN OF OUR IDEAS.
SECT. II. DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT.
SECT. III. OF THE IDEAS OF THE MEMORY AND IMAGINATION.
SECT. IV. OF THE CONNECTION OR ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.
SECT. V. OF RELATIONS.
SECT. VI. OF MODES AND SUBSTANCES
SECT. VII. OF ABSTRACT IDEAS.
PART II. OF THE IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME.
SECT. I. OF THE INFINITE DIVISIBILITY OF OUR IDEAS OF SPACE AND TIME.
SECT. II. OF THE INFINITE DIVISIBILITY OF SPACE AND TIME.
SECT. III. OF THE OTHER QUALITIES OF OUR IDEA OF SPACE AND TIME.
SECT. IV. OBJECTIONS ANSWERED.
SECT. V. THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.
SECT. VI. OF THE IDEA OF EXISTENCE, AND OF EXTERNAL EXISTENCE.
PART III. OF KNOWLEDGE AND PROBABILITY.
SECT. I. OF KNOWLEDGE.
SECT. II. OF PROBABILITY, AND OF THE IDEA OF CAUSE AND EFFECT.
SECT. III. WHY A CAUSE IS ALWAYS NECESSARY.
SECT. IV. OF THE COMPONENT PARTS OF OUR REASONINGS CONCERNING CAUSE
AND EFFECT.
SECT. V. OF THE IMPRESSIONS OF THE SENSES AND MEMORY.
SECT. VI. OF THE INFERENCE FROM THE IMPRESSION TO THE IDEA.
SECT. VII. OF THE NATURE OF THE IDEA OR BELIEF.
SECT. VIII. OF THE CAUSES OF BELIEF.
SECT. IX. OF THE EFFECTS OF OTHER RELATIONS AND OTHER HABITS.
SECT. X. OF THE INFLUENCE OF BELIEF.
SECT. XI. OF THE PROBABILITY OF CHANCES.
SECT. XII. OF THE PROBABILITY OF CAUSES.
SECT. XIII. OF UNPHILOSOPHICAL PROBABILITY.
SECT. XIV. OF THE IDEA OF NECESSARY CONNECTION.
SECT. XV. RULES BY WHICH TO JUDGE OF CAUSES AND EFFECTS.
SECT. XVI OF THE REASON OF ANIMALS
PART IV. OF THE SCEPTICAL AND OTHER SYSTEMS OF PHILOSOPHY.
SECT. I. OF SCEPTICISM WITH REGARD TO REASON.
SECT. II. OF SCEPTICISM WITH REGARD TO THE SENSES.
SECT. III. OF THE ANTIENT PHILOSOPHY.
SECT. IV. OF THE MODERN PHILOSOPHY.
SECT. V. OF THE IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL.
SECT. VI. OF PERSONAL IDENTITY
SECT. VII. CONCLUSION OF THIS BOOK.
VOLUME II
BOOK II OF THE PASSIONS
PART I OF PRIDE AND HUMILITY
SECT. I DIVISION OF THE SUBJECT
SECT. II OF PRIDE AND HUMILITY, THEIR OBJECTS AND CAUSES
SECT. III WHENCE THESE OBJECTS AND CAUSES ARE DERIVED
SECT. IV OF THE RELATIONS OF IMPRESSIONS AND IDEAS
SECT. V OF THE INFLUENCE OF THESE RELATIONS ON PRIDE AND HUMILITY
SECT. VI LIMITATIONS OF THIS SYSTEM
SECT. VII OF VICE AND VIRTUE
SECT. VIII OF BEAUTY AND DEFORMITY
SECT. IX OF EXTERNAL ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES
SECT. X OF PROPERTY AND RICHES
SECT. XI OF THE LOVE OF FAME
SECT. XII OF THE PRIDE AND HUMILITY OF ANIMALS
PART II OF LOVE AND HATRED
SECT. I OF THE OBJECT AND CAUSES OF LOVE AND HATRED
SECT. II EXPERIMENTS TO CONFIRM THIS SYSTEM
SECT. III DIFFICULTIES SOLVED
SECT. IV OF THE LOVE OF RELATIONS
SECT. V OF OUR ESTEEM FOR THE RICH AND POWERFUL
SECT. VI OF BENEVOLENCE AND ANGER
SECT. VII OF COMPASSION
SECT. VIII OF MALICE AND ENVY
SECT. IX OF THE MIXTURE OF BENEVOLENCE AND ANGER WITH COMPASSION
AND MALICE
SECT. X OF RESPECT AND CONTEMPT
SECT. XI OF THE AMOROUS PASSION, OR LOVE BETWIXT THE SEXES
SECT. XII OF THE LOVE AND HATRED OF ANIMALS
PART III OF THE WILL AND DIRECT PASSIONS
SECT. I OF LIBERTY AND NECESSITY
SECT. II THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED
SECT. III OF THE INFLUENCING MOTIVES OF THE WILL
SECT. IV OF THE CAUSES OF THE VIOLENT PASSIONS
SECT. V OF THE EFFECTS OF CUSTOM
SECT. VI OF THE INFLUENCE OF THE IMAGINATION ON THE PASSIONS
SECT. VII OF CONTIGUITY AND DISTANCE IN SPACE AND TIME
SECT. VIII THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED
SECT. IX OF THE DIRECT PASSIONS
SECT. X OF CURIOSITY, OR THE LOVE OF TRUTH
BOOK III OF MORALS
PART I OF VIRTUE AND VICE IN GENERAL
SECT. I MORAL DISTINCTIONS NOT DERIVED FROM REASON
SECT. II MORAL DISTINCTIONS DERIVED FROM A MORAL SENSE
PART II OF JUSTICE AND INJUSTICE
SECT. I JUSTICE, WHETHER A NATURAL OR ARTIFICIAL VIRTUE?
SECT. II OF THE ORIGIN OF JUSTICE AND PROPERTY
SECT. III OF THE RULES WHICH DETERMINE PROPERTY
SECT. IV OF THE TRANSFERENCE OF PROPERTY BY CONSENT
SECT. V OF THE OBLIGATION OF PROMISES
SECT. VI SOME FARTHER REFLECTIONS CONCERNING JUSTICE AND INJUSTICE
SECT. VII OF THE ORIGIN OF GOVERNMENT
SECT. VIII OF THE SOURCE OF ALLEGIANCE
SECT. IX OF THE MEASURES OF ALLEGIANCE
SECT. X OF THE OBJECTS OF ALLEGIANCE
SECT. XI OF THE LAWS OF NATIONS
SECT. XII OF CHASTITY AND MODESTY
PART III OF THE OTHER VIRTUES AND VICES
SECT. I OF THE ORIGIN OF THE NATURAL VIRTUES AND VICES
SECT. II OF GREATNESS OF MIND
SECT. III OF GOODNESS AND BENEVOLENCE
SECT. IV OF NATURAL ABILITIES
SECT. V SOME FARTHER REFLECTIONS CONCERNING THE NATURAL VIRTUES
SECT. VI CONCLUSION OF THIS BOOK
APPENDIX TO THE TREATISE OF HUMAN NATURE
* * * * *
VOL. I OF THE UNDERSTANDING.
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 they 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 in England,[1] 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.
[1] Mr. _Locke_, my Lord _Shaftesbury_, Dr. _Mandeville_, Mr.
_Hutchinson_, Dr. _Butler_, etc.
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 phænomenon. 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.[1]
[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 phænomenon;
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 phænomenon, 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 may 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.[2]
[2] Part III, 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 SUBSTANCES
I 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
nature. 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 [3] 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.
[3] Dr. Berkeley. [Introd.: to ‘Principles of Human Knowledge,’
secs. 18 &c. Cf. also Introd. to this volume paragraphs 183 and
ff.—Ed.]
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[4] 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.
[4] 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.