PART III. OF KNOWLEDGE AND PROBABILITY.

SECT. I. OF KNOWLEDGE.

There are seven[1] different kinds of philosophical relation, viz.

RESEMBLANCE, IDENTITY, RELATIONS OF TIME AND PLACE, PROPORTION IN

QUANTITY OR NUMBER, DEGREES IN ANY QUALITY, CONTRARIETY and CAUSATION.

These relations may be divided into two classes; into such as depend

entirely on the ideas, which we compare together, and such as may be

changed without any change in the ideas. It is from the idea of a

triangle, that we discover the relation of equality, which its three

angles bear to two right ones; and this relation is invariable, as long

as our idea remains the same. On the contrary, the relations of

contiguity and distance betwixt two objects may be changed merely by an

alteration of their place, without any change on the objects themselves

or on their ideas; and the place depends on a hundred different

accidents, which cannot be foreseen by the mind. It is the same case

with identity and causation. Two objects, though perfectly resembling

each other, and even appearing in the same place at different times,

may be numerically different: And as the power, by which one object

produces another, is never discoverable merely from their idea, it is

evident cause and effect are relations, of which we receive information

from experience, and not from any abstract reasoning or reflection.

There is no single phænomenon, even the most simple, which can be

accounted for from the qualities of the objects, as they appear to us;

or which we could foresee without the help of our memory and

experience.

[1] Part I. Sect. 5.

It appears, therefore, that of these seven philosophical relations,

there remain only four, which depending solely upon ideas, can be

the objects of knowledge and certainty. These four are RESEMBLANCE,

CONTRARIETY, DEGREES IN QUALITY, and PROPORTIONS IN QUANTITY OR NUMBER.

Three of these relations are discoverable at first sight, and fall more

properly under the province of intuition than demonstration. When any

objects resemble each other, the resemblance will at first strike the

eye, or rather the mind; and seldom requires a second examination. The

case is the same with contrariety, and with the degrees of any quality.

No one can once doubt but existence and non-existence destroy each

other, and are perfectly incompatible and contrary. And though it be

impossible to judge exactly of the degrees of any quality, such as

colour, taste, heat, cold, when the difference betwixt them is very

small: yet it is easy to decide, that any of them is superior or

inferior to another, when their difference is considerable. And this

decision we always pronounce at first sight, without any enquiry or

reasoning.

We might proceed, after the same manner, in fixing the proportions

of quantity or number, and might at one view observe a superiority

or inferiority betwixt any numbers, or figures; especially where the

difference is very great and remarkable. As to equality or any exact

proportion, we can only guess at it from a single consideration; except

in very short numbers, or very limited portions of extension; which are

comprehended in an instant, and where we perceive an impossibility of

falling into any considerable error. In all other cases we must settle

the proportions with some liberty, or proceed in a more artificial

manner.

I have already observed, that geometry, or the art, by which we fix

the proportions of figures; though it much excels both in universality

and exactness, the loose judgments of the senses and imagination; yet

never attains a perfect precision and exactness. It's first principles

are still drawn from the general appearance of the objects; and that

appearance can never afford us any security, when we examine, the

prodigious minuteness of which nature is susceptible. Our ideas seem

to give a perfect assurance, that no two right lines can have a common

segment; but if we consider these ideas, we shall find, that they always

suppose a sensible inclination of the two lines, and that where the

angle they form is extremely small, we have no standard of a I @ right

line so precise as to assure us of the truth of this proposition. It is

the same case with most of the primary decisions of the mathematics.

There remain, therefore, algebra and arithmetic as the only sciences, in

which we can carry on a chain of reasoning to any degree of intricacy,

and yet preserve a perfect exactness and certainty. We are possest of a

precise standard, by which we can judge of the equality and proportion

of numbers; and according as they correspond or not to that standard,

we determine their relations, without any possibility of error. When two

numbers are so combined, as that the one has always an unite answering

to every unite of the other, we pronounce them equal; and it is for want

of such a standard of equality in extension, that geometry can scarce be

esteemed a perfect and infallible science.

But here it may not be amiss to obviate a difficulty, which may arise

from my asserting, that though geometry falls short of that perfect

precision and certainty, which are peculiar to arithmetic and algebra,

yet it excels the imperfect judgments of our senses and imagination. The

reason why I impute any defect to geometry, is, because its original and

fundamental principles are derived merely from appearances; and it may

perhaps be imagined, that this defect must always attend it, and keep it

from ever reaching a greater exactness in the comparison of objects or

ideas, than what our eye or imagination alone is able to attain. I own

that this defect so far attends it, as to keep it from ever aspiring to

a full certainty: But since these fundamental principles depend on

the easiest and least deceitful appearances, they bestow on their

consequences a degree of exactness, of which these consequences are

singly incapable. It is impossible for the eye to determine the angles

of a chiliagon to be equal to 1996 right angles, or make any conjecture,

that approaches this proportion; but when it determines, that right

lines cannot concur; that we cannot draw more than one right line

between two given points; it's mistakes can never be of any consequence.

And this is the nature and use of geometry, to run us up to such

appearances, as, by reason of their simplicity, cannot lead us into any

considerable error.

I shall here take occasion to propose a second observation concerning

our demonstrative reasonings, which is suggested by the same subject of

the mathematics. It is usual with mathematicians, to pretend, that

those ideas, which are their objects, are of so refined and spiritual a

nature, that they fall not under the conception of the fancy, but must

be comprehended by a pure and intellectual view, of which the superior

faculties of the soul are alone capable. The same notion runs through

most parts of philosophy, and is principally made use of to explain oar

abstract ideas, and to shew how we can form an idea of a triangle,

for instance, which shall neither be an isoceles nor scalenum, nor be

confined to any particular length and proportion of sides. It is easy to

see, why philosophers are so fond of this notion of some spiritual

and refined perceptions; since by that means they cover many of their

absurdities, and may refuse to submit to the decisions of clear ideas,

by appealing to such as are obscure and uncertain. But to destroy this

artifice, we need but reflect on that principle so oft insisted on, that

all our ideas are copyed from our impressions. For from thence we may

immediately conclude, that since all impressions are clear and precise,

the ideas, which are copyed from them, must be of the same nature, and

can never, but from our fault, contain any thing so dark and intricate.

An idea is by its very nature weaker and fainter than an impression;

but being in every other respect the same, cannot imply any very great

mystery. If its weakness render it obscure, it is our business to

remedy that defect, as much as possible, by keeping the idea steady and

precise; and till we have done so, it is in vain to pretend to reasoning

and philosophy.

SECT. II. OF PROBABILITY, AND OF THE IDEA OF CAUSE AND EFFECT.

This is all I think necessary to observe concerning those four

relations, which are the foundation of science; but as to the other

three, which depend not upon the idea, and may be absent or present

even while that remains the same, it will be proper to explain them more

particularly. These three relations are identity, the situations in time

and place, and causation.

All kinds of reasoning consist in nothing but a comparison, and a

discovery of those relations, either constant or inconstant, which two

or more objects bear to each other. This comparison we may make, either

when both the objects are present to the senses, or when neither of them

is present, or when only one. When both the objects are present to the

senses along with the relation, we call this perception rather than

reasoning; nor is there in this case any exercise of the thought, or

any action, properly speaking, but a mere passive admission of the

impressions through the organs of sensation. According to this way of

thinking, we ought not to receive as reasoning any of the observations

we may make concerning identity, and the relations of time and place;

since in none of them the mind can go beyond what is immediately present

to the senses, either to discover the real existence or the relations

of objects. It is only causation, which produces such a connexion, as

to give us assurance from the existence or action of one object, that it

was followed or preceded by any other existence or action; nor can the

other two relations be ever made use of in reasoning, except so far

as they either affect or are affected by it. There is nothing in any

objects to perswade us, that they are either always remote or always

contiguous; and when from experience and observation we discover, that

their relation in this particular is invariable, we, always conclude

there is some secret cause, which separates or unites them. The same

reasoning extends to identity. We readily suppose an object may continue

individually the same, though several times absent from and present

to the senses; and ascribe to it an identity, notwithstanding the

interruption of the perception, whenever we conclude, that if we had

kept our eye or hand constantly upon it, it would have conveyed an

invariable and uninterrupted perception. But this conclusion beyond the

impressions of our senses can be founded only on the connexion of cause

and effect; nor can we otherwise have any security, that the object is

not changed upon us, however much the new object may resemble that which

was formerly present to the senses. Whenever we discover such a perfect

resemblance, we consider, whether it be common in that species of

objects; whether possibly or probably any cause could operate in

producing the change and resemblance; and according as we determine

concerning these causes and effects, we form our judgment concerning the

identity of the object.

Here then it appears, that of those three relations, which depend not

upon the mere ideas, the only one, that can be traced beyond our senses

and informs us of existences and objects, which we do not see or feel,

is causation. This relation, therefore, we shall endeavour to explain

fully before we leave the subject of the understanding.

To begin regularly, we must consider the idea of causation, and see from

what origin it is derived. It is impossible to reason justly, without

understanding perfectly the idea concerning which we reason; and it is

impossible perfectly to understand any idea, without tracing it up to

its origin, and examining that primary impression, from which it arises.

The examination of the impression bestows a clearness on the idea;

and the examination of the idea bestows a like clearness on all our

reasoning.

Let us therefore cast our eye on any two objects, which we call

cause and effect, and turn them on all sides, in order to find that

impression, which produces an idea, of such prodigious consequence.

At first sight I perceive, that I must not search for it in any of

the particular qualities of the objects; since which-ever of these

qualities I pitch on, I find some object, that is not possessed of it,

and yet falls under the denomination of cause or effect. And indeed

there is nothing existent, either externally or internally, which is

not to be considered either as a cause or an effect; though it is plain

there is no one quality, which universally belongs to all beings, and

gives them a title to that denomination.

The idea, then, of causation must be derived from some relation among

objects; and that relation we must now endeavour to discover. I find in

the first place, that whatever objects are considered as causes or

effects, are contiguous; and that nothing can operate in a time or

place, which is ever so little removed from those of its existence.

Though distant objects may sometimes seem productive of each other,

they are commonly found upon examination to be linked by a chain of

causes, which are contiguous among themselves, and to the distant

objects; and when in any particular instance we cannot discover this

connexion, we still presume it to exist. We may therefore consider the

relation of CONTIGUITY as essential to that of causation; at least may

suppose it such, according to the general opinion, till we can find a

more[2] proper occasion to clear up this matter, by examining what

objects are or are not susceptible of juxtaposition and conjunction.

[2] Part IV. Sect. 5.

The second relation I shall observe as essential to causes and effects,

is not so universally acknowledged, but is liable to some controversy.

It is that of PRIORITY Of time in the cause before the effect. Some

pretend that it is not absolutely necessary a cause should precede its

effect; but that any object or action, in the very first moment of its

existence, may exert its productive quality, and give rise to another

object or action, perfectly co-temporary with itself. But beside that

experience in most instances seems to contradict this opinion, we may

establish the relation of priority by a kind of inference or reasoning.

It is an established maxim both in natural and moral philosophy, that

an object, which exists for any time in its full perfection without

producing another, is not its sole cause; but is assisted by some other

principle, which pushes it from its state of inactivity, and makes it

exert that energy, of which it was secretly possest. Now if any cause

may be perfectly co-temporary with its effect, it is certain, according

to this maxim, that they must all of them be so; since any one of them,

which retards its operation for a single moment, exerts not itself

at that very individual time, in which it might have operated; and

therefore is no proper cause. The consequence of this would be no less

than the destruction of that succession of causes, which we observe in

the world; and indeed, the utter annihilation of time. For if one cause

were co-temporary with its effect, and this effect with its effect, and

so on, it is plain there would be no such thing as succession, and all

objects must be co-existent.

If this argument appear satisfactory, it is well. If not, I beg the

reader to allow me the same liberty, which I have used in the preceding

case, of supposing it such. For he shall find, that the affair is of no

great importance.

Having thus discovered or supposed the two relations of contiguity and

succession to be essential to causes and effects, I find I am stopt

short, and can proceed no farther in considering any single instance

of cause and effect. Motion in one body is regarded upon impulse as the

cause of motion in another. When we consider these objects with utmost

attention, we find only that the one body approaches the other; and that

the motion of it precedes that of the other, but without any, sensible

interval. It is in vain to rack ourselves with farther thought and

reflection upon this subject. We can go no farther in considering this

particular instance.

Should any one leave this instance, and pretend to define a cause, by

saying it is something productive of another, it is evident he would say

nothing. For what does he mean by production? Can he give any definition

of it, that will not be the same with that of causation? If he can; I

desire it may be produced. If he cannot; he here runs in a circle, and

gives a synonimous term instead of a definition.

Shall we then rest contented with these two relations of contiguity and

succession, as affording a complete idea of causation? By, no means. An

object may be contiguous and prior to another, without being considered

as its cause. There is a NECESSARY CONNEXION to be taken into

consideration; and that relation is of much greater importance, than any

of the other two above-mentioned.

Here again I turn the object on all sides, in order to discover

the nature of this necessary connexion, and find the impression, or

impressions, from which its idea may be derived. When I cast my eye on

the known Qualities of objects, I immediately discover that the relation

of cause and effect depends not in the least on them. When I consider

their relations, I can find none but those of contiguity and succession;

which I have already regarded as imperfect and unsatisfactory. Shall the

despair of success make me assert, that I am here possest of an idea,

which is not preceded by any similar impression? This would be too

strong a proof of levity and inconstancy; since the contrary principle

has been already so firmly established, as to admit of no farther doubt;

at least, till we have more fully examined the present difficulty.

We must, therefore, proceed like those, who being in search of any

thing, that lies concealed from them, and not finding it in the place

they expected, beat about all the neighbouring fields, without any

certain view or design, in hopes their good fortune will at last guide

them to what they search for. It is necessary for us to leave the

direct survey of this question concerning the nature of that necessary

connexion, which enters into our idea of cause and effect; and endeavour

to find some other questions, the examination of which will perhaps

afford a hint, that may serve to clear up the present difficulty. Of

these questions there occur two, which I shall proceed to examine, viz.

First, For what reason we pronounce it necessary, that every thing whose

existence has a beginning, should also have a cause.

Secondly, Why we conclude, that such particular causes must necessarily

have such particular effects; and what is the nature of that inference

we draw from the one to the other, and of the belief we repose in it?

I shall only observe before I proceed any farther, that though the ideas

of cause and effect be derived from the impressions of reflection as

well as from those of sensation, yet for brevity's sake, I commonly

mention only the latter as the origin of these ideas; though I desire

that whatever I say of them may also extend to the former. Passions are

connected with their objects and with one another; no less than external

bodies are connected together. The same relation, then, of cause and

effect, which belongs to one, must be common to all of them.

SECT. III. WHY A CAUSE IS ALWAYS NECESSARY.

To begin with the first question concerning the necessity of a cause:

It is a general maxim in philosophy, that whatever begins to exist, must

have a cause of existence. This is commonly taken for granted in all

reasonings, without any proof given or demanded. It is supposed to be

founded on intuition, and to be one of those maxims, which though they

may be denyed with the lips, it is impossible for men in their hearts

really to doubt of. But if we examine this maxim by the idea of

knowledge above-explained, we shall discover in it no mark of any such

intuitive certainty; but on the contrary shall find, that it is of a

nature quite foreign to that species of conviction.

All certainty arises from the comparison of ideas, and from the

discovery of such relations as are unalterable, so long as the ideas

continue the same. These relations are RESEMBLANCE, PROPORTIONS IN

QUANTITY AND NUMBER, DEGREES OF ANY QUALITY, and CONTRARIETY; none of

which are implyed in this proposition, Whatever has a beginning has

also a cause of existence. That proposition therefore is not intuitively

certain. At least any one, who would assert it to be intuitively

certain, must deny these to be the only infallible relations, and must

find some other relation of that kind to be implyed in it; which it will

then be time enough to examine.

But here is an argument, which proves at once, that the foregoing

proposition is neither intuitively nor demonstrably certain. We can

never demonstrate the necessity of a cause to every new existence, or

new modification of existence, without shewing at the same time the

impossibility there is, that any thing can ever begin to exist without

some productive principle; and where the latter proposition cannot be

proved, we must despair of ever being able to prove the former. Now that

the latter proposition is utterly incapable of a demonstrative proof,

we may satisfy ourselves by considering that as all distinct ideas are

separable from each other, and as the ideas of cause and effect are

evidently distinct, it will be easy for us to conceive any object to be

non-existent this moment, and existent the next, without conjoining to

it the distinct idea of a cause or productive principle. The separation,

therefore, of the idea of a cause from that of a beginning of existence,

is plainly possible for the imagination; and consequently the actual

separation of these objects is so far possible, that it implies no

contradiction nor absurdity; and is therefore incapable of being refuted

by any reasoning from mere ideas; without which it is impossible to

demonstrate the necessity of a cause.

Accordingly we shall find upon examination, that every demonstration,

which has been produced for the necessity of a cause, is fallacious and

sophistical. All the points of time and place, say some

philosophers,[3] in which we can suppose any object to begin to exist,

are in themselves equal; and unless there be some cause, which is

peculiar to one time and to one place, and which by that means

determines and fixes the existence, it must remain in eternal suspence;

and the object can never begin to be, for want of something to fix its

beginning. But I ask; Is there any more difficulty in supposing the

time and place to be fixed without a cause, than to suppose the

existence to be determined in that manner? The first question that

occurs on this subject is always, whether the object shall exist or

not: The next, when and where it shall begin to exist. If the removal

of a cause be intuitively absurd in the one case, it must be so in the

other: And if that absurdity be not clear without a proof in the one

case, it will equally require one in the other. The absurdity, then, of

the one supposition can never be a proof of that of the other; since

they are both upon the same footing, and must stand or fall by the same

reasoning.

[3] Mr. Hobbes.

The second argument,[4] which I find used on this head, labours under

an equal difficulty. Every thing, it is said, must have a cause; for if

any thing wanted a cause, it would produce ITSELF; that is, exist

before it existed; which is impossible. But this reasoning is plainly

unconclusive; because it supposes, that in our denial of a cause we

still grant what we expressly deny, viz. that there must be a cause;

which therefore is taken to be the object itself; and that, no doubt,

is an evident contradiction. But to say that any thing is produced, or

to express myself more properly, comes into existence, without a cause,

is not to affirm, that it is itself its own cause; but on the contrary

in excluding all external causes, excludes a fortiori the thing itself,

which is created. An object, that exists absolutely without any cause,

certainly is not its own cause; and when you assert, that the one

follows from the other, you suppose the very point in questions and

take it for granted, that it is utterly impossible any thing can ever

begin to exist without a cause, but that, upon the exclusion of one

productive principle, we must still have recourse to another.

[4] Dr. Clarke and others.

It is exactly the same case with the third argument,[5] which has been

employed to demonstrate the necessity of a cause. Whatever is produced

without any cause, is produced by nothing; or in other words, has

nothing for its cause. But nothing can never be a cause, no more than

it can be something, or equal to two right angles. By the same

intuition, that we perceive nothing not to be equal to two right

angles, or not to be something, we perceive, that it can never be a

cause; and consequently must perceive, that every object has a real

cause of its existence.

[5] Mr. Locke.

I believe it will not be necessary to employ many words in shewing the

weakness of this argument, after what I have said of the foregoing. They

are all of them founded on the same fallacy, and are derived from the

same turn of thought. It is sufficient only to observe, that when

we exclude all causes we really do exclude them, and neither suppose

nothing nor the object itself to be the causes of the existence;

and consequently can draw no argument from the absurdity of these

suppositions to prove the absurdity of that exclusion. If every thing

must have a cause, it follows, that upon the exclusion of other causes

we must accept of the object itself or of nothing as causes. But it is

the very point in question, whether every thing must have a cause or

not; and therefore, according to all just reasoning, it ought never to

be taken for granted.

They are still more frivolous, who say, that every effect must have a

cause, because it is implyed in the very idea of effect. Every effect

necessarily pre-supposes a cause; effect being a relative term, of which

cause is the correlative. But this does not prove, that every being must

be preceded by a cause; no more than it follows, because every husband

must have a wife, that therefore every man must be marryed. The true

state of the question is, whether every object, which begins to exist,

must owe its existence to a cause: and this I assert neither to be

intuitively nor demonstratively certain, and hope to have proved it

sufficiently by the foregoing arguments.

Since it is not from knowledge or any scientific reasoning, that we

derive the opinion of the necessity of a cause to every new production,

that opinion must necessarily arise from observation and experience. The

next question, then, should naturally be, how experience gives rise to

such a principle? But as I find it will be more convenient to sink this

question in the following, Why we conclude, that such particular

causes must necessarily have such particular erects, and why we form

an inference from one to another? we shall make that the subject of our

future enquiry. It will, perhaps, be found in the end, that the same

answer will serve for both questions.

SECT. IV. OF THE COMPONENT PARTS OF OUR REASONINGS CONCERNING CAUSE AND EFFECT.

Though the mind in its reasonings from causes or effects carries its

view beyond those objects, which it sees or remembers, it must never

lose sight of them entirely, nor reason merely upon its own ideas,

without some mixture of impressions, or at least of ideas of the memory,

which are equivalent to impressions. When we infer effects from causes,

we must establish the existence of these causes; which we have only

two ways of doing, either by an immediate perception of our memory or

senses, or by an inference from other causes; which causes again we must

ascertain in the same manner, either by a present impression, or by an

inference from their causes, and so on, till we arrive at some object,

which we see or remember. It is impossible for us to carry on our

inferences IN INFINITUM; and the only thing, that can stop them, is an

impression of the memory or senses, beyond which there is no room for

doubt or enquiry.

To give an instance of this, we may chuse any point of history, and

consider for what reason we either believe or reject it. Thus we believe

that Caesar was killed in the senate-house on the ides of March; and

that because this fact is established on the unanimous testimony of

historians, who agree to assign this precise time and place to that

event. Here are certain characters and letters present either to our

memory or senses; which characters we likewise remember to have been

used as the signs of certain ideas; and these ideas were either in the

minds of such as were immediately present at that action, and received

the ideas directly from its existence; or they were derived from the

testimony of others, and that again from another testimony, by a

visible gradation, it will we arrive at those who were eyewitnesses and

spectators of the event. It is obvious all this chain of argument or

connexion of causes and effects, is at first founded on those characters

or letters, which are seen or remembered, and that without the authority

either of the memory or senses our whole reasoning would be chimerical

and without foundation. Every link of the chain would in that case hang

upon another; but there would not be any thing fixed to one end of it,

capable of sustaining the whole; and consequently there would be no

belief nor evidence. And this actually is the case with all hypothetical

arguments, or reasonings upon a supposition; there being in them,

neither any present impression, nor belief of a real existence.

I need not observe, that it is no just objection to the present

doctrine, that we can reason upon our past conclusions or principles,

without having recourse to those impressions, from which they first

arose. For even supposing these impressions should be entirely effaced

from the memory, the conviction they produced may still remain; and it

is equally true, that all reasonings concerning causes and effects are

originally derived from some impression; in the same manner, as the

assurance of a demonstration proceeds always from a comparison of ideas,

though it may continue after the comparison is forgot.

SECT. V. OF THE IMPRESSIONS OF THE SENSES AND MEMORY.

In this kind of reasoning, then, from causation, we employ materials,

which are of a mixed and heterogeneous nature, and which, however

connected, are yet essentially different from each other. All our

arguments concerning causes and effects consist both of an impression of

the memory or, senses, and of the idea of that existence, which produces

the object of the impression, or is produced by it. Here therefore

we have three things to explain, viz. First, The original impression.

Secondly, The transition to the idea of the connected cause or effect.

Thirdly, The nature and qualities of that idea.

As to those impressions, which arise from the senses, their ultimate

cause is, in my opinion, perfectly inexplicable by human reason, and it

will always be impossible to decide with certainty, whether they arise

immediately from the object, or are produced by the creative power of

the mind, or are derived from the author of our being. Nor is such a

question any way material to our present purpose. We may draw inferences

from the coherence of our perceptions, whether they be true or false;

whether they represent nature justly, or be mere illusions of the

senses.

When we search for the characteristic, which distinguishes the memory

from the imagination, we must immediately perceive, that it cannot lie

in the simple ideas it presents to us; since both these faculties borrow

their simple ideas from the impressions, and can never go beyond these

original perceptions. These faculties are as little distinguished from

each other by the arrangement of their complex ideas. For though it be

a peculiar property of the memory to preserve the original order and

position of its ideas, while the imagination transposes and changes

them, as it pleases; yet this difference is not sufficient to

distinguish them in their operation, or make us know the one from the

other; it being impossible to recal the past impressions, in order to

compare them with our present ideas, and see whether their arrangement

be exactly similar. Since therefore the memory, is known, neither by

the order of its complex ideas, nor the nature of its simple ones; it

follows, that the difference betwixt it and the imagination lies in its

superior force and vivacity. A man may indulge his fancy in feigning

any past scene of adventures; nor would there be any possibility of

distinguishing this from a remembrance of a like kind, were not the

ideas of the imagination fainter and more obscure.

It frequently happens, that when two men have been engaged in any scene

of action, the one shall remember it much better than the other,

and shall have all the difficulty in the world to make his companion

recollect it. He runs over several circumstances in vain; mentions the

time, the place, the company, what was said, what was done on all sides;

till at last he hits on some lucky circumstance, that revives the whole,

and gives his friend a perfect memory of every thing. Here the person

that forgets receives at first all the ideas from the discourse of

the other, with the same circumstances of time and place; though he

considers them as mere fictions of the imagination. But as soon as the

circumstance is mentioned, that touches the memory, the very same ideas

now appear in a new light, and have, in a manner, a different feeling

from what they had before. Without any other alteration, beside that

of the feeling, they become immediately ideas of the memory, and are

assented to.

Since, therefore, the imagination can represent all the same objects

that the memory can offer to us, and since those faculties are only

distinguished by the different feeling of the ideas they present, it

may be proper to consider what is the nature of that feeling. And here

I believe every one will readily agree with me, that the ideas of the

memory are more strong and lively than those of the fancy.

A painter, who intended to represent a passion or emotion of any kind,

would endeavour to get a sight of a person actuated by a like emotion,

in order to enliven his ideas, and give them a force and vivacity

superior to what is found in those, which are mere fictions of the

imagination. The more recent this memory is, the clearer is the idea;

and when after a long interval he would return to the contemplation of

his object, he always finds its idea to be much decayed, if not wholly

obliterated. We are frequently in doubt concerning the ideas of the

memory, as they become very weak and feeble; and are at a loss to

determine whether any image proceeds from the fancy or the memory,

when it is not drawn in such lively colours as distinguish that latter

faculty. I think, I remember such an event, says one; but am not sure.

A long tract of time has almost worn it out of my memory, and leaves me

uncertain whether or not it be the pure offspring of my fancy.

And as an idea of the memory, by losing its force and vivacity,

may degenerate to such a degree, as to be taken for an idea of the

imagination; so on the other hand an idea of the imagination may acquire

such a force and vivacity, as to pass for an idea of the memory, and

counterfeit its effects on the belief and judgment. This is noted in

the case of liars; who by the frequent repetition of their lies, come at

last to believe and remember them, as realities; custom and habit having

in this case, as in many others, the same influence on the mind as

nature, and infixing the idea with equal force and vigour.

Thus it appears, that the belief or assent, which always attends the

memory and senses, is nothing but the vivacity of those perceptions they

present; and that this alone distinguishes them from the imagination. To

believe is in this case to feel an immediate impression of the senses,

or a repetition of that impression in the memory. It is merely the force

and liveliness of the perception, which constitutes the first act of the

judgment, and lays the foundation of that reasoning, which we build upon

it, when we trace the relation of cause and effect.

SECT. VI. OF THE INFERENCE FROM THE IMPRESSION TO THE IDEA.

It is easy to observe, that in tracing this relation, the inference we

draw from cause to effect, is not derived merely from a survey of these

particular objects, and from such a penetration into their essences

as may discover the dependance of the one upon the other. There is no

object, which implies the existence of any other if we consider these

objects in themselves, and never look beyond the ideas which we form of

them. Such an inference would amount to knowledge, and would imply

the absolute contradiction and impossibility of conceiving any thing

different. But as all distinct ideas are separable, it is evident

there can be no impossibility of that kind. When we pass from a present

impression to the idea of any object, we might possibly have separated

the idea from the impression, and have substituted any other idea in its

room.

It is therefore by EXPERIENCE only, that we can infer the existence of

one object from that of another. The nature of experience is this. We

remember to have had frequent instances of the existence of one species

of objects; and also remember, that the individuals of another species

of objects have always attended them, and have existed in a regular

order of contiguity and succession with regard to them. Thus we

remember, to have seen that species of object we call flame, and to have

felt that species of sensation we call heat. We likewise call to mind

their constant conjunction in all past instances. Without any farther

ceremony, we call the one cause and the other effect, and infer the

existence of the one from that of the other. In all those instances,

from which we learn the conjunction of particular causes and effects,

both the causes and effects have been perceived by the senses, and are

remembered. But in all cases, wherein we reason concerning them, there

is only one perceived or remembered, and the other is supplyed in

conformity to our past experience.

Thus in advancing we have insensibly discovered a new relation betwixt

cause and effect, when we least expected it, and were entirely employed

upon another subject. This relation is their CONSTANT CONJUNCTION.

Contiguity and succession are not sufficient to make us pronounce any

two objects to be cause and effect, unless we perceive, that these

two relations are preserved in several instances. We may now see the

advantage of quitting the direct survey of this relation, in order

to discover the nature of that necessary connexion, which makes so

essential a part of it. There are hopes, that by this means we may

at last arrive at our proposed end; though to tell the truth, this

new-discovered relation of a constant conjunction seems to advance us

but very little in our way. For it implies no more than this, that like

objects have always been placed in like relations of contiguity and

succession; and it seems evident, at least at first sight, that by this

means we can never discover any new idea, and can only multiply, but not

enlarge the objects of our mind. It may be thought, that what we learn

not from one object, we can never learn from a hundred, which are all

of the same kind, and are perfectly resembling in every circumstance. As

our senses shew us in one instance two bodies, or motions, or qualities

in certain relations of success and contiguity; so our memory presents

us only with a multitude of instances, wherein we always find like

bodies, motions, or qualities in like relations. From the mere

repetition of any past impression, even to infinity, there never will

arise any new original idea, such as that of a necessary connexion; and

the number of impressions has in this case no more effect than if we

confined ourselves to one only. But though this reasoning seems just and

obvious; yet as it would be folly to despair too soon, we shall continue

the thread of our discourse; and having found, that after the discovery

of the constant conjunction of any objects, we always draw an inference

from one object to another, we shall now examine the nature of that

inference, and of the transition from the impression to the idea.

Perhaps it will appear in the end, that the necessary connexion depends

on the inference, instead of the inference's depending on the necessary

connexion.

Since it appears, that the transition from an impression present to

the memory or senses to the idea of an object, which we call cause or

effect, is founded on past experience, and on our remembrance of their

constant conjunction, the next question is, Whether experience produces

the idea by means of the understanding or imagination; whether we are

determined by reason to make the transition, or by a certain association

and relation of perceptions. If reason determined us, it would proceed

upon that principle, that instances, of which we have had no experience,

must resemble those, of which we have had experience, and that the

course of nature continues always uniformly the same. In order therefore

to clear up this matter, let us consider all the arguments, upon which

such a proposition may be supposed to be founded; and as these must be

derived either from knowledge or probability, let us cast our eye on

each of these degrees of evidence, and see whether they afford any just

conclusion of this nature.

Our foregoing method of reasoning will easily convince us, that there

can be no demonstrative arguments to prove, that those instances, of

which we have, had no experience, resemble those, of which we have had

experience. We can at least conceive a change in the course of nature;

which sufficiently proves, that such a change is not absolutely

impossible. To form a clear idea of any thing, is an undeniable

argument for its possibility, and is alone a refutation of any pretended

demonstration against it.

Probability, as it discovers not the relations of ideas, considered as

such, but only those of objects, must in some respects be founded on the

impressions of our memory and senses, and in some respects on our ideas.

Were there no mixture of any impression in our probable reasonings, the

conclusion would be entirely chimerical: And were there no mixture

of ideas, the action of the mind, in observing the relation, would,

properly speaking, be sensation, not reasoning. It is therefore

necessary, that in all probable reasonings there be something present

to the mind, either seen or remembered; and that from this we infer

something connected with it, which is not seen nor remembered.

The only connexion or relation of objects, which can lead us beyond the

immediate impressions of our memory and senses, is that of cause and

effect; and that because it is the only one, on which we can found a

just inference from one object to another. The idea of cause and effect

is derived from experience, which informs us, that such particular

objects, in all past instances, have been constantly conjoined with

each other: And as an object similar to one of these is supposed to

be immediately present in its impression, we thence presume on the

existence of one similar to its usual attendant. According to this

account of things, which is, I think, in every point unquestionable,

probability is founded on the presumption of a resemblance betwixt those

objects, of which we have had experience, and those, of which we have

had none; and therefore it is impossible this presumption can arise from

probability. The same principle cannot be both the cause and effect

of another; and this is, perhaps, the only proposition concerning that

relation, which is either intuitively or demonstratively certain.

Should any one think to elude this argument; and without determining

whether our reasoning on this subject be derived from demonstration or

probability, pretend that all conclusions from causes and effects are

built on solid reasoning: I can only desire, that this reasoning may be

produced, in order to be exposed to our examination. It may, perhaps,

be said, that after experience of the constant conjunction of certain

objects, we reason in the following manner. Such an object is always

found to produce another. It is impossible it could have this effect,

if it was not endowed with a power of production. The power necessarily

implies the effect; and therefore there is a just foundation for drawing

a conclusion from the existence of one object to that of its usual

attendant. The past production implies a power: The power implies a new

production: And the new production is what we infer from the power and

the past production.

It were easy for me to shew the weakness of this reasoning, were I

willing to make use of those observations, I have already made, that

the idea of production is the same with that of causation, and that no

existence certainly and demonstratively implies a power in any other

object; or were it proper to anticipate what I shall have occasion to

remark afterwards concerning the idea we form of power and efficacy. But

as such a method of proceeding may seem either to weaken my system,

by resting one part of it on another, or to breed a confusion in my

reasoning, I shall endeavour to maintain my present assertion without

any such assistance.

It shall therefore be allowed for a moment, that the production of one

object by another in any one instance implies a power; and that this

power is connected with its effect. But it having been already proved,

that the power lies not in the sensible qualities of the cause; and

there being nothing but the sensible qualities present to us; I ask, why

in other instances you presume that the same power still exists, merely

upon the appearance of these qualities? Your appeal to past experience

decides nothing in the present case; and at the utmost can only prove,

that that very object, which produced any other, was at that very

instant endowed with such a power; but can never prove, that the

same power must continue in the same object or collection of sensible

qualities; much less, that a like power is always conjoined with like

sensible qualities, should it be said, that we have experience, that the

same power continues united with the same object, and that like objects

are endowed with like powers, I would renew my question, why from this

experience we form any conclusion beyond those past instances, of which

we have had experience. If you answer this question in, the same manner

as the preceding, your answer gives still occasion to a new question

of the same kind, even in infinitum; which clearly proves, that the

foregoing reasoning had no just foundation.

Thus not only our reason fails us in the discovery of the ultimate

connexion of causes and effects, but even after experience has informed

us of their constant conjunction, it is impossible for us to satisfy

ourselves by our reason, why we should extend that experience beyond

those particular instances, which have fallen under our observation. We

suppose, but are never able to prove, that there must be a resemblance

betwixt those objects, of which we have had experience, and those which

lie beyond the reach of our discovery.

We have already taken notice of certain relations, which make us pass

from one object to another, even though there be no reason to determine

us to that transition; and this we may establish for a general rule,

that wherever the mind constantly and uniformly makes a transition

without any reason, it is influenced by these relations. Now this is

exactly the present case. Reason can never shew us the connexion of one

object with another, though aided by experience, and the observation

of their constant conjunction in all past instances. When the mind,

therefore, passes from the idea or impression of one object to the idea

or belief of another, it is not determined by reason, but by certain

principles, which associate together the ideas of these objects, and

unite them in the imagination. Had ideas no more union in the fancy

than objects seem to have to the understanding, we could never draw any

inference from causes to effects, nor repose belief in any matter of

fact. The inference, therefore, depends solely on the union of ideas.

The principles of union among ideas, I have reduced to three general

ones, and have asserted, that the idea or impression of any object

naturally introduces the idea of any other object, that is resembling,

contiguous to, or connected with it. These principles I allow to be

neither the infallible nor the sole causes of an union among ideas.

They are not the infallible causes. For one may fix his attention during

Sometime on any one object without looking farther. They are not the

sole causes. For the thought has evidently a very irregular motion in

running along its objects, and may leap from the heavens to the earth,

from one end of the creation to the other, without any certain method

or order. But though I allow this weakness in these three relations, and

this irregularity in the imagination; yet I assert that the only general

principles, which associate ideas, are resemblance, contiguity and

causation.

There is indeed a principle of union among ideas, which at first sight

may be esteemed different from any of these, but will be found at

the bottom to depend on the same origin. When every individual of any

species of objects is found by experience to be constantly united with

an individual of another species, the appearance of any new individual

of either species naturally conveys the thought to its usual attendant.

Thus because such a particular idea is commonly annexed to such a

particular word, nothing is required but the hearing of that word to

produce the correspondent idea; and it will scarce be possible for the

mind, by its utmost efforts, to prevent that transition. In this case it

is not absolutely necessary, that upon hearing such a particular sound

we should reflect on any past experience, and consider what idea

has been usually connected with the sound. The imagination of itself

supplies the place of this reflection, and is so accustomed to pass from

the word to the idea, that it interposes not a moment's delay betwixt

the hearing of the one, and the conception of the other.

But though I acknowledge this to be a true principle of association

among ideas, I assert it to be the very same with that betwixt the ideas

of cause and effects and to be an essential part in all our reasonings

from that relation. We have no other notion of cause and effect, but

that of certain objects, which have been always conjoined together,

and which in all past instances have been found inseparable. We cannot

penetrate into the reason of the conjunction. We only observe the thing

itself, and always find that from the constant conjunction the objects

acquire an union in the imagination. When the impression of one becomes

present to us, we immediately form an idea of its usual attendant; and

consequently we may establish this as one part of the definition of an

opinion or belief, that it is an idea related to or associated with a

present impression.

Thus though causation be a philosophical relation, as implying

contiguity, succession, and constant conjunction, yet it is only so far

as it is a natural relation, and produces an union among our ideas, that

we are able to reason upon it, or draw any inference from it.

SECT. VII. 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.

It is 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. It is 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 encreases nor diminishes. But as it is 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 Caesar dyed in his bed, that silver is more

fusible, than lead, or mercury heavier than gold; it is 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; nor 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 deference

betwixt incredulity and belief? since in both cases the conception of

the idea is equally possible and requisite.

It will not be a satisfactory answer to say, that a 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 falshood, but because it discovers not all

the truth. It is contest, 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 until 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 copyed 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 encrease 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,

it is 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]

[6] We may here take occasion to observe a very remarkable error,

which being frequently inculcated in the schools, has become a kind

of establishd 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 defind 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, it is 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 explain’d by any

philosopher; and therefore I am at liberty to propose my hypothesis

concerning it; which is, that it is only a strong and steady

conception of any idea, and such as approaches in some measure to

an immediate impression.

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. It is a particular manner of forming an idea: And as the same

idea can only be varyed 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 FIRMNESS, 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, it is 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, it is 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. To confess, that it is 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.

SECT. VIII. OF THE CAUSES OF BELIEF.

Having thus explained the nature of belief, and shewn that it consists

in a lively idea related to a present impression; let us now proceed

to examine from what principles it is derived, and what bestows the

vivacity on the idea.

I would willingly establish it as a general maxim in the science of

human nature, that when any impression becomes present to us, it

not only transports the mind to such ideas as are related to it, but

likewise communicates to them a share of its force and vivacity. All

the operations of the mind depend in a great measure on its disposition,

when it performs them; and according as the spirits are more or less

elevated, and the attention more or less fixed, the action will always

have more or less vigour and vivacity. When therefore any object is

presented, which elevates and enlivens the thought, every action, to

which the mind applies itself, will be more strong and vivid, as Tong

as that disposition continues, Now it is evident the continuance of the

disposition depends entirely on the objects, about which the mind is

employed; and that any new object naturally gives a new direction to the

spirits, and changes the disposition; as on the contrary, when the mind

fixes constantly on the same object, or passes easily and insensibly

along related objects, the disposition has a much longer duration.

Hence it happens, that when the mind is once inlivened by a present

impression, it proceeds to form a more lively idea of the related

objects, by a natural transition of the disposition from the one to the

other. The change of the objects is so easy, that the mind is scarce

sensible of it, but applies itself to the conception of the related idea

with all the force and vivacity it acquired from the present impression.

If in considering the nature of relation, and that facility of

transition, which is essential to it, we can satisfy ourselves

concerning the reality of this phænomenon, it is well: But I must

confess I place my chief confidence in experience to prove so material

a principle. We may, therefore, observe, as the first experiment to our

present purpose, that upon the appearance of the picture of an absent

friend, our idea of him is evidently inlivened by the resemblance, and

that every passion, which that idea occasions, whether of joy or sorrow,

acquires new force and vigour. In producing this effect there concur

both a relation and a present impression. Where the picture bears him no

resemblance, or at least was not intended for him, it never so much

as conveys our thought to him: And where it is absent, as well as the

person; though the mind may pass from the thought of the one to that of

the other; it feels its idea to be rather weekend than inlivened by that

transition. We take a pleasure in viewing the picture of a friend, when

it is set before us; but when it is removed, rather choose to consider

him directly, than by reflexion in an image, which is equally distinct

and obscure.

The ceremonies of the Roman Catholic religion may be considered

as experiments of the same nature. The devotees of that strange

superstition usually plead in excuse of the mummeries, with which they

are upbraided, that they feel the good effect of those external motions,

and postures, and actions, in enlivening their devotion, and quickening

their fervour, which otherwise would decay away, if directed entirely to

distant and immaterial objects. We shadow out the objects of our faith,

say they, in sensible types and images, and render them more present to

us by the immediate presence of these types, than it is possible for

us to do, merely by an intellectual view and contemplation. Sensible

objects have always a greater influence on the fancy than any other;

and this influence they readily convey to those ideas, to which they

are related, and which they Resemble. I shall only infer from these

practices, and this reasoning, that the effect of resemblance in

inlivening the idea is very common; and as in every case a resemblance

and a present impression must concur, we are abundantly supplyed with

experiments to prove the reality of the foregoing principle.

We may add force to these experiments by others of a different kind, in

considering the effects of contiguity, as well as of resemblance. It is

certain, that distance diminishes the force of every idea, and that upon

our approach to any object; though it does not discover itself to our

senses; it operates upon the mind with an influence that imitates an

immediate impression. The thinking on any object readily transports the

mind to what is contiguous; but it is only the actual presence of an

object, that transports it with a superior vivacity. When I am a few

miles from home, whatever relates to it touches me more nearly than

when I am two hundred leagues distant; though even at that distance the

reflecting on any thing in the neighbourhood of my friends and family

naturally produces an idea of them. But as in this latter case, both

the objects of the mind are ideas; notwithstanding there is an easy

transition betwixt them; that transition alone is not able to give

a superior vivacity to any of the ideas, for want of some immediate

impression.[7]

[7] NATURANE NOBIS, IN QUIT, DATUM DICAM, AN ERRORE QUODAM, UT, CUM

EA LOCA VIDEAMUS, IN QUIBUS MEMORIA DIGNOS VIROS ACCEPERIMUS

MULTURN ESSE VERSATOS, MAGIS MOVEAMUR, QUAM SIQUANDO EORUM IPSORUM

AUT JACTA AUDIAMUS, AUT SCRIPTUM ALIQUOD LEGAMUS? VELUT EGO NUNC

MOVEOR. VENIT ENIM MIHI PLATONIS IN MENTEM: QUEM ACCIPIMUS PRIMURN

HIC DISPUTARE SOLITUM: CUJUS ETIAM ILLI HORTULI PROPINQUI NON

MEMORIAM SOLUM MIHI AFFERUNT, SED IPSUM VIDENTUR IN CONSPECTU MEO

HIC PONERE. HIC SPEUSIPPUS, HIC XENOCRATES, HIC EJUS AUDITOR

POLEMO; CUJUS IPSA ILLA SESSIO FUIT, QUAM VIDEAMUS. EQUIDEM ETIAM

CURIAM NOSTRAM, HOSTILIAM DICO, NON HANC NOVAM, QUAE MIHI MINOR

ESSE VIDETUR POST QUAM EST MAJOR, SOLE BARN INTUENS SCIPIONEM,

CATONEM, LACLIUM, NOSTRUM VERO IN PRIMIS AVUM COGITARE. TANTA VIS

ADMONITIONIS INEST IN LOCIS; UT NON SINE CAUSA EX HIS MEMORIAE

DUCTA SIT DISCIPLINA. Cicero de Finibus, lib. 5.

{"Should I, he said, "attribute to instinct or to some kind of

illusion the fact that when we see those places in which we are

told notable men spent much of their time, we are more powerfully

affected than when we hear of the exploits of the men themselves or

read something written? This is just what is happening to me now;

for I am reminded of Plato who, we are told, was the first to make

a practice of holding discussions here. Those gardens of his near

by do not merely put me in mind of him; they seem to set the man

himself before my very eyes. Speusippus was here; so was

Xenocrates; so was his pupil, Polemo, and that very seat which we

may view was his.

"Then again, when I looked at our Senate-house (I mean the old

building of Hostilius, not this new one; when it was enlarged, it

diminished in my estimation), I used to think of Scipio, Cato,

Laelius and in particular of my own grandfather.

"Such is the power of places to evoke associations; so it is with

good reason that they are used as a basis for memory training."}

No one can doubt but causation has the same influence as the other two

relations; of resemblance and contiguity. Superstitious people are fond

of the relicks of saints and holy men, for the same reason that they

seek after types and images, in order to enliven their devotion, and

give them a more intimate and strong conception of those exemplary

lives, which they desire to imitate. Now it is evident, one of the best

relicks a devotee could procure, would be the handywork of a saint; and

if his cloaths and furniture are ever to be considered in this light, it

is because they were once at his disposal, and were moved and affected

by him; in which respect they are to be considered as imperfect effects,

and as connected with him by a shorter chain of consequences than any

of those, from which we learn the reality of his existence. This

phænomenon clearly proves, that a present impression with a relation

of causation may, inliven any idea, and consequently produce belief or

assent, according to the precedent definition of it.

But why need we seek for other arguments to prove, that a present

impression with a relation or transition of the fancy may inliven any

idea, when this very instance of our reasonings from cause and effect

will alone suffice to that purpose? It is certain we must have an idea

of every matter of fact, which we believe. It is certain, that this idea

arises only from a relation to a present impression. It is certain, that

the belief super-adds nothing to the idea, but only changes our manner

of conceiving it, and renders it more strong and lively. The present

conclusion concerning the influence of relation is the immediate

consequence of all these steps; and every step appears to me sure end

infallible. There enters nothing into this operation of the mind but a

present impression, a lively idea, and a relation or association in the

fancy betwixt the impression and idea; so that there can be no suspicion

of mistake.

In order to put this whole affair in a fuller light, let us consider

it as a question in natural philosophy, which we must determine by

experience and observation. I suppose there is an object presented, from

which I draw a certain conclusion, and form to myself ideas, which I

am said to believe or assent to. Here it is evident, that however that

object, which is present to my senses, and that other, whose existence

I infer by reasoning, may be thought to influence each other by their

particular powers or qualities; yet as the phenomenon of belief, which

we at present examine, is merely internal, these powers and qualities,

being entirely unknown, can have no hand in producing it. It is the

present impression, which is to be considered as the true and real

cause of the idea, and of the belief which attends it. We must therefore

endeavour to discover by experiments the particular qualities, by which

it is enabled to produce so extraordinary an effect.

First then I observe, that the present impression has not this effect

by its own proper power and efficacy, and when considered alone, as

a single perception, limited to the present moment. I find, that

an impression, from which, on its first appearance, I can draw no

conclusion, may afterwards become the foundation of belief, when I have

had experience of its usual consequences. We must in every case have

observed the same impression in past instances, and have found it to be

constantly conjoined with some other impression. This is confirmed by

such a multitude of experiments, that it admits not of the smallest

doubt.

From a second observation I conclude, that the belief, which attends the

present impression, and is produced by a number of past impressions and

conjunctions; that this belief, I say, arises immediately, without any

new operation of the reason or imagination. Of this I can be certain,

because I never am conscious of any such operation, and find nothing

in the subject, on which it can be founded. Now as we call every thing

CUSTOM, which proceeds from a past repetition, without any new reasoning

or conclusion, we-may establish it as a certain truth, that all the

belief, which follows upon any present impression, is derived solely

from that origin. When we are accustomed to see two impressions

conjoined together, the appearance or idea of the one immediately

carries us to the idea of the other.

Being fully satisfyed on this head, I make a third set of experiments,

in order to know, whether any thing be requisite, beside the customary

transition, towards the production of this phænomenon of belief. I

therefore change the first impression into an idea; and observe, that

though the customary transition to the correlative idea still remains,

yet there is in reality no belief nor perswasion. A present impression,

then, is absolutely requisite to this whole operation; and when after

this I compare an impression with an idea, and find that their only

difference consists in their different degrees of force and vivacity,

I conclude upon the whole, that belief is a more vivid and intense

conception of an idea, proceeding from its relation to a present

impression.

Thus all probable reasoning is nothing but a species of sensation. It is

not solely in poetry and music, we must follow our taste and sentiment,

but likewise in philosophy. When I am convinced of any principle, it

is only an idea, which strikes more strongly upon me. When I give the

preference to one set of arguments above another, I do nothing but

decide from my feeling concerning the superiority of their influence.

Objects have no discoverable connexion together; nor is it from any

other principle but custom operating upon the imagination, that we

can draw any inference from the appearance of one to the existence of

another.

It will here be worth our observation, that the past experience, on

which all our judgments concerning cause and effect depend, may operate

on our mind in such an insensible manner as never to be taken notice of,

and may even in some measure be unknown to us. A person, who stops

short in his journey upon meeting a river in his way, foresees the

consequences of his proceeding forward; and his knowledge of these

consequences is conveyed to him by past experience, which informs him of

such certain conjunctions of causes and effects. But can we think,

that on this occasion he reflects on any past experience, and calls

to remembrance instances, that he has seen or heard of, in order to

discover the effects of water on animal bodies? No surely; this is not

the method, in which he proceeds in his reasoning. The idea of sinking

is so closely connected with that of water, and the idea of suffocating

with that of sinking, that the mind makes the transition without the

assistance of the memory. The custom operates before we have time for

reflection. The objects seem so inseparable, that we interpose not

a moment's delay in passing from the one to the other. But as this

transition proceeds from experience, and not from any primary connexion

betwixt the ideas, we must necessarily acknowledge, that experience

may produce a belief and a judgment of causes and effects by a secret

operation, and without being once thought of. This removes all pretext,

if there yet remains any, for asserting that the mind is convinced

by reasoning of that principle, that instances of which we have no

experience, must necessarily resemble those, of which we have. For we

here find, that the understanding or imagination can draw inferences

from past experience, without reflecting on it; much more without

forming any principle concerning it, or reasoning upon that principle.

In general we may observe, that in all the most established and uniform

conjunctions of causes and effects, such as those of gravity, impulse,

solidity, &c. the mind never carries its view expressly to consider any

past experience: Though in other associations of objects, which are more

rare and unusual, it may assist the custom and transition of ideas by

this reflection. Nay we find in some cases, that the reflection produces

the belief without the custom; or more properly speaking, that the

reflection produces the custom in an oblique and artificial manner. I

explain myself. It is certain, that not only in philosophy, but even in

common life, we may attain the knowledge of a particular cause merely by

one experiment, provided it be made with judgment, and after a careful

removal of all foreign and superfluous circumstances. Now as after one

experiment of this kind, the mind, upon the appearance either of the

cause or the effect, can draw an inference concerning the existence

of its correlative; and as a habit can never be acquired merely by one

instance; it may be thought, that belief cannot in this case be esteemed

the effect of custom. But this difficulty will vanish, if we consider,

that though we are here supposed to have had only one experiment of

a particular effect, yet we have many millions to convince us of this

principle; that like objects placed in like circumstances, will always

produce like effects; and as this principle has established itself by a

sufficient custom, it bestows an evidence and firmness on any opinion,

to which it can be applied. The connexion of the ideas is not habitual

after one experiment: but this connexion is comprehended under another

principle, that is habitual; which brings us back to our hypothesis. In

all cases we transfer our experience to instances, of which we have no

experience, either expressly or tacitly, either directly or indirectly.

I must not conclude this subject without observing, that it is very

difficult to talk of the operations of the mind with perfect propriety

and exactness; because common language has seldom made any very nice

distinctions among them, but has generally called by the same term

all such as nearly resemble each other. And as this is a source

almost inevitable of obscurity and confusion in the author; so it may

frequently give rise to doubts and objections in the reader, which

otherwise he would never have dreamed of. Thus my general position, that

an opinion or belief is nothing but a strong and lively idea derived

from a present impression related to it, maybe liable to the following

objection, by reason of a little ambiguity in those words strong and

lively. It may be said, that not only an impression may give rise to

reasoning, but that an idea may also have the same influence; especially

upon my principle, that all our ideas are derived from correspondent

impressions. For suppose I form at present an idea, of which I have

forgot the correspondent impression, I am able to conclude from this

idea, that such an impression did once exist; and as this conclusion is

attended with belief, it may be asked, from whence are the qualities of

force and vivacity derived, which constitute this belief? And to this I

answer very readily, from the present idea. For as this idea is not here

considered, as the representation of any absent object, but as a real

perception in the mind, of which we are intimately conscious, it must

be able to bestow on whatever is related to it the same quality, call

it firmness, or solidity, or force, or vivacity, with which the mind

reflects upon it, and is assured of its present existence. The idea here

supplies the place of an impression, and is entirely the same, so far as

regards our present purpose.

Upon the same principles we need not be surprized to hear of the

remembrance of an idea: that is, of the idea of an idea, and of its

force and vivacity superior to the loose conceptions of the imagination.

In thinking of our past thoughts we not only delineate out the objects,

of which we were thinking, but also conceive the action of the mind in

the meditation, that certain JE-NE-SÇAI-QUOI, of which it is impossible

to give any definition or description, but which every one sufficiently

understands. When the memory offers an idea of this, and represents it

as past, it is easily conceived how that idea may have more vigour and

firmness, than when we think of a past thought, of which we have no

remembrance.

After this any one will understand how we may form the idea of an

impression and of an idea, and how we way believe the existence of an

impression and of an idea.

SECT. IX. 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 complyed 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 to-ether 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 informing 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. It is 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 it is 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.

It is 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 everything 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. Mean while 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 encrease 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, it is 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, it is impossible it can ever operate with

any considerable degree of force and constancy. The mind forsees 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

encreases 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 fixt 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, it will 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 encreases the belief by encreasing 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 it is

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 it is 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 we 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.

It is 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. It is 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 it is 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

anything 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 it is 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, it

is 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 encreases 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 everywhere 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 Catholicks are certainly the most zealous of

any sect in the Christian world; and yet you'll find few among the

more sensible people 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 terrifyed, 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 penetrated with the solidity of

the subject, nothing can be more disagreeable than fear and terror; and

it is 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, it is 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 it is 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 a-rises from the constant and

inseparable union of causes and effects. Here we most 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 it is 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, it is a common remark of the whole family, but especially of 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, it will

appear very convincing; and the more so, that it is founded on one

of the most common phaenomena, 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 implicitely embraced,

overballance 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 recognized 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

usd in two different senses; and tho nothing be more contrary to

true philosophy, than this inaccuracy, yet in the following

reasonings I have often been obligd 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, it is indifferent whether it be taken

in the larger or more limited sense, or at least the context will

sufficiently explain the meaning.

SECT. X. OF THE INFLUENCE OF BELIEF.

But though education be disclaimed by philosophy, as a fallacious ground

of assent to any opinion, it prevails nevertheless in the world, and

is the cause why all systems are apt to be rejected at first as new

and unusual. This perhaps will be the fate of what I have here advanced

concerning belief, and though the proofs I have produced appear to

me perfectly conclusive, I expect not to make many proselytes to

my opinion. Men will scarce ever be persuaded, that effects of

such consequence can flow from principles, which are seemingly so

inconsiderable, and that the far greatest part of our reasonings with

all our actions and passions, can be derived from nothing but custom and

habit. To obviate this objection, I shall here anticipate a little what

would more properly fall under our consideration afterwards, when we

come to treat of the passions and the sense of beauty.

There is implanted in the human mind a perception of pain and pleasure,

as the chief spring and moving principle of all its actions. But pain

and pleasure have two ways of making their appearance in the mind; of

which the one has effects very different from the other. They may either

appear in impression to the actual feeling, or only in idea, as at

present when I mention them. It is evident the influence of these upon

our actions is far from being equal. Impressions always actuate the

soul, and that in the highest degree; but it is not every idea which

has the same effect. Nature has proceeded with caution in this came, and

seems to have carefully avoided the inconveniences of two extremes.

Did impressions alone influence the will, we should every moment of our

lives be subject to the greatest calamities; because, though we foresaw

their approach, we should not be provided by nature with any principle

of action, which might impel us to avoid them. On the other hand,

did every idea influence our actions, our condition would not be much

mended. For such is the unsteadiness and activity of thought, that

the images of every thing, especially of goods and evils, are always

wandering in the mind; and were it moved by every idle conception of

this kind, it would never enjoy a moment's peace and tranquillity.

Nature has, therefore, chosen a medium, and has neither bestowed on

every idea of good and evil the power of actuating the will, nor yet has

entirely excluded them from this influence. Though an idle fiction has

no efficacy, yet we find by experience, that the ideas of those objects,

which we believe either are or will be existent, produce in a lesser

degree the same effect with those impressions, which are immediately

present to the senses and perception. The effect, then, of belief is to

raise up a simple idea to an equality with our impressions, and bestow

on it a like influence on the passions. This effect it can only have by

making an idea approach an impression in force and vivacity. For as the

different degrees of force make all the original difference betwixt an

impression and an idea, they must of consequence be the source of all

the differences in the effects of these perceptions, and their removal,

in whole or in part, the cause of every new resemblance they acquire.

Wherever we can make an idea approach the impressions in force and

vivacity, it will likewise imitate them in its influence on the mind;

and vice versa, where it imitates them in that influence, as in the

present case, this must proceed from its approaching them in force and

vivacity. Belief, therefore, since it causes an idea to imitate

the effects of the impressions, must make it resemble them in these

qualities, and is nothing but A MORE VIVID AND INTENSE CONCEPTION OF

ANY IDEA. This, then, may both serve as an additional argument for

the present system, and may give us a notion after what manner our

reasonings from causation are able to operate on the will and passions.

As belief is almost absolutely requisite to the exciting our passions,

so the passions in their turn are very favourable to belief; and not

only such facts as convey agreeable emotions, but very often such as

give pain, do upon that account become more readily the objects of faith

and opinion. A coward, whose fears are easily awakened, readily assents

to every account of danger he meets with; as a person of a sorrowful and

melancholy disposition is very credulous of every thing, that nourishes

his prevailing passion. When any affecting object is presented, it

gives the alarm, and excites immediately a degree of its proper passion;

especially in persons who are naturally inclined to that passion. This

emotion passes by an easy transition to the imagination; and diffusing

itself over our idea of the affecting object, makes us form that

idea with greater force and vivacity, and consequently assent to it,

according to the precedent system. Admiration and surprize have the same

effect as the other passions; and accordingly we may observe, that

among the vulgar, quacks and projectors meet with a more easy faith upon

account of their magnificent pretensions, than if they kept themselves

within the bounds of moderation. The first astonishment, which naturally

attends their miraculous relations, spreads itself over the whole soul,

and so vivifies and enlivens the idea, that it resembles the inferences

we draw from experience. This is a mystery, with which we may be already

a little acquainted, and which we shall have farther occasion to be let

into in the progress of this treatise.

After this account of the influence of belief on the passions, we shall

find less difficulty in explaining its effects on the imagination,

however extraordinary they may appear. It is certain we cannot take

pleasure in any discourse, where our judgment gives no assent to those

images which are presented to our fancy. The conversation of those who

have acquired a habit of lying, though in affairs of no moment, never

gives any satisfaction; and that because those ideas they present to us,

not being attended with belief, make no impression upon the mind. Poets

themselves, though liars by profession, always endeavour to give an air

of truth to their fictions; and where that is totally neglected, their

performances, however ingenious, will never be able to afford much

pleasure. In short, we may observe, that even when ideas have no manner

of influence on the will and passions, truth and reality are still

requisite, in order to make them entertaining to the imagination.

But if we compare together all the phenomena that occur on this head,

we shall find, that truth, however necessary it may seem in all works

of genius, has no other effect than to procure an easy reception for the

ideas, and to make the mind acquiesce in them with satisfaction, or at

least without reluctance. But as this is an effect, which may easily be

supposed to flow from that solidity and force, which, according to

my system, attend those ideas that are established by reasonings from

causation; it follows, that all the influence of belief upon the fancy

may be explained from that system. Accordingly we may observe, that

wherever that influence arises from any other principles beside truth or

reality, they supply its place, and give an equal entertainment to

the imagination. Poets have formed what they call a poetical system of

things, which though it be believed neither by themselves nor readers,

is commonly esteemed a sufficient foundation for any fiction. We have

been so much accustomed to the names of MARS, JUPITER, VENUS, that

in the same manner as education infixes any opinion, the constant

repetition of these ideas makes them enter into the mind with facility,

and prevail upon the fancy, without influencing the judgment. In like

manner tragedians always borrow their fable, or at least the names of

their principal actors, from some known passage in history; and that not

in order to deceive the spectators; for they will frankly confess, that

truth is not in any circumstance inviolably observed: but in order

to procure a more easy reception into the imagination for those

extraordinary events, which they represent. But this is a precaution,

which is not required of comic poets, whose personages and incidents,

being of a more familiar kind, enter easily into the conception, and are

received without any such formality, even though at first night they be

known to be fictitious, and the pure offspring of the fancy.

This mixture of truth and falshood in the fables of tragic poets not

only serves our present purpose, by shewing, that the imagination can be

satisfyed without any absolute belief or assurance; but may in another

view be regarded as a very strong confirmation of this system. It is

evident, that poets make use of this artifice of borrowing the names

of their persons, and the chief events of their poems, from history, in

order to procure a more easy reception for the whole, and cause it

to make a deeper impression on the fancy and affections. The several

incidents of the piece acquire a kind of relation by being united into

one poem or representation; and if any of these incidents be an object

of belief, it bestows a force and vivacity on the others, which are

related to it. The vividness of the first conception diffuses itself

along the relations, and is conveyed, as by so many pipes or canals,

to every idea that has any communication with the primary one. This,

indeed, can never amount to a perfect assurance; and that because

the union among the ideas is, in a manner, accidental: But still it

approaches so near, in its influence, as may convince us, that they

are derived from the same origin. Belief must please the imagination

by means of the force and vivacity which attends it; since every idea,

which has force and vivacity, is found to be agreeable to that faculty.

To confirm this we may observe, that the assistance is mutual betwixt

the judgment and fancy, as well as betwixt the judgment and passion;

and that belief not only gives vigour to the imagination, but that a

vigorous and strong imagination is of all talents the most proper to

procure belief and authority. It is difficult for us to withhold our

assent from what is painted out to us in all the colours of eloquence;

and the vivacity produced by the fancy is in many cases greater than

that which arises from custom and experience. We are hurried away by the

lively imagination of our author or companion; and even he himself is

often a victim to his own fire and genius.

Nor will it be amiss to remark, that as a lively imagination very often

degenerates into madness or folly, and bears it a great resemblance in

its operations; so they influence the judgment after the same manner,

and produce belief from the very same principles. When the imagination,

from any extraordinary ferment of the blood and spirits, acquires such a

vivacity as disorders all its powers and faculties, there is no means

of distinguishing betwixt truth and falshood; but every loose fiction or

idea, having the same influence as the impressions of the memory, or

the conclusions of the judgment, is received on the same footing, and

operates with equal force on the passions. A present impression and a

customary transition are now no longer necessary to enliven our ideas.

Every chimera of the brain is as vivid and intense as any of those

inferences, which we formerly dignifyed with the name of conclusions

concerning matters of fact, and sometimes as the present impressions of

the senses.