{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_10615/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_10615","id":"gutenberg_10615","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/10615","summary":null,"tags":["Banned Books from Anne Haight's list","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Knowledge, Theory of -- Early works to 1800"],"text":"An Essay Concerning Humane Understanding\n\nIN FOUR BOOKS\n\nBy John Locke\n\n[image]\n\n\n_Quam bellum est velle confiteri potius nescire quod nescias, quam ista\neffutientem nauseare, atque ipsum sibi displicere!_\n\nCic. de Natur. Deor. _l_. 1.\n\n\n\n\nLONDON:\n\nPrinted by Eliz. Holt, for Thomas Basset, at the George in Fleet Street, near\nSt. Dunstan\u2019s Church.\n\nMDCXC\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS\n\n THE EPISTLE TO THE READER\n ESSAY CONCERNING HUMANE UNDERSTANDING.\n\n BOOK I NEITHER PRINCIPLES NOR IDEAS ARE INNATE\n CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION.\n CHAPTER II. NO INNATE SPECULATIVE PRINCIPLES.\n CHAPTER III. NO INNATE PRACTICAL PRINCIPLES\n CHAPTER IV. OTHER CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING INNATE PRINCIPLES, BOTH SPECULATIVE AND PRACTICAL.\n\n BOOK II OF IDEAS\n CHAPTER I. OF IDEAS IN GENERAL, AND THEIR ORIGINAL.\n CHAPTER II. OF SIMPLE IDEAS.\n CHAPTER III. OF SIMPLE IDEAS OF SENSE.\n CHAPTER IV. IDEA OF SOLIDITY.\n CHAPTER V. OF SIMPLE IDEAS OF DIVERS SENSES.\n CHAPTER VI. OF SIMPLE IDEAS OF REFLECTION.\n CHAPTER VII. OF SIMPLE IDEAS OF BOTH SENSATION AND REFLECTION.\n CHAPTER VIII. SOME FURTHER CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING OUR SIMPLE IDEAS OF SENSATION.\n CHAPTER IX. OF PERCEPTION.\n CHAPTER X. OF RETENTION.\n CHAPTER XI. OF DISCERNING, AND OTHER OPERATIONS OF THE MIND.\n CHAPTER XII. OF COMPLEX IDEAS.\n CHAPTER XIII. COMPLEX IDEAS OF SIMPLE MODES:\u2014AND FIRST, OF THE SIMPLE MODES OF IDEA OF SPACE.\n CHAPTER XIV. IDEA OF DURATION AND ITS SIMPLE MODES.\n CHAPTER XV. IDEAS OF DURATION AND EXPANSION, CONSIDERED TOGETHER.\n CHAPTER XVI. IDEA OF NUMBER.\n CHAPTER XVII. OF INFINITY.\n CHAPTER XVIII. OTHER SIMPLE MODES.\n CHAPTER XIX. OF THE MODES OF THINKING.\n CHAPTER XX. OF MODES OF PLEASURE AND PAIN.\n CHAPTER XXI. OF POWER.\n CHAPTER XXII. OF MIXED MODES.\n CHAPTER XXIII. OF OUR COMPLEX IDEAS OF SUBSTANCES.\n CHAPTER XXIV. OF COLLECTIVE IDEAS OF SUBSTANCES.\n CHAPTER XXV. OF RELATION.\n CHAPTER XXVI. OF CAUSE AND EFFECT, AND OTHER RELATIONS.\n CHAPTER XXVII. OF IDENTITY AND DIVERSITY.\n CHAPTER XXVIII. OF OTHER RELATIONS.\n CHAPTER XXIX. OF CLEAR AND OBSCURE, DISTINCT AND CONFUSED IDEAS.\n CHAPTER XXX. OF REAL AND FANTASTICAL IDEAS.\n CHAPTER XXXI. OF ADEQUATE AND INADEQUATE IDEAS.\n CHAPTER XXXII. OF TRUE AND FALSE IDEAS.\n CHAPTER XXXIII. OF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.\n\n\n\n\nTO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE THOMAS, EARL OF PEMBROKE AND MONTGOMERY, BARON\nHERBERT OF CARDIFF LORD ROSS, OF KENDAL, PAR, FITZHUGH, MARMION, ST.\nQUINTIN, AND SHURLAND;\n\nLORD PRESIDENT OF HIS MAJESTY\u2019S MOST HONOURABLE PRIVY COUNCIL; AND LORD\nLIEUTENANT OF THE COUNTY OF WILTS, AND OF SOUTH WALES.\n\nMY LORD,\n\nThis Treatise, which is grown up under your lordship\u2019s eye, and has\nventured into the world by your order, does now, by a natural kind of\nright, come to your lordship for that protection which you several\nyears since promised it. It is not that I think any name, how great\nsoever, set at the beginning of a book, will be able to cover the\nfaults that are to be found in it. Things in print must stand and fall\nby their own worth, or the reader\u2019s fancy. But there being nothing more\nto be desired for truth than a fair unprejudiced hearing, nobody is\nmore likely to procure me that than your lordship, who are allowed to\nhave got so intimate an acquaintance with her, in her more retired\nrecesses. Your lordship is known to have so far advanced your\nspeculations in the most abstract and general knowledge of things,\nbeyond the ordinary reach or common methods, that your allowance and\napprobation of the design of this Treatise will at least preserve it\nfrom being condemned without reading, and will prevail to have those\nparts a little weighed, which might otherwise perhaps be thought to\ndeserve no consideration, for being somewhat out of the common road.\nThe imputation of Novelty is a terrible charge amongst those who judge\nof men\u2019s heads, as they do of their perukes, by the fashion, and can\nallow none to be right but the received doctrines. Truth scarce ever\nyet carried it by vote anywhere at its first appearance: new opinions\nare always suspected, and usually opposed, without any other reason but\nbecause they are not already common. But truth, like gold, is not the\nless so for being newly brought out of the mine. It is trial and\nexamination must give it price, and not any antique fashion; and though\nit be not yet current by the public stamp, yet it may, for all that, be\nas old as nature, and is certainly not the less genuine. Your lordship\ncan give great and convincing instances of this, whenever you please to\noblige the public with some of those large and comprehensive\ndiscoveries you have made of truths hitherto unknown, unless to some\nfew, from whom your lordship has been pleased not wholly to conceal\nthem. This alone were a sufficient reason, were there no other, why I\nshould dedicate this Essay to your lordship; and its having some little\ncorrespondence with some parts of that nobler and vast system of the\nsciences your lordship has made so new, exact, and instructive a\ndraught of, I think it glory enough, if your lordship permit me to\nboast, that here and there I have fallen into some thoughts not wholly\ndifferent from yours. If your lordship think fit that, by your\nencouragement, this should appear in the world, I hope it may be a\nreason, some time or other, to lead your lordship further; and you will\nallow me to say, that you here give the world an earnest of something\nthat, if they can bear with this, will be truly worth their\nexpectation. This, my lord, shows what a present I here make to your\nlordship; just such as the poor man does to his rich and great\nneighbour, by whom the basket of flowers or fruit is not ill taken,\nthough he has more plenty of his own growth, and in much greater\nperfection. Worthless things receive a value when they are made the\nofferings of respect, esteem, and gratitude: these you have given me so\nmighty and peculiar reasons to have, in the highest degree, for your\nlordship, that if they can add a price to what they go along with,\nproportionable to their own greatness, I can with confidence brag, I\nhere make your lordship the richest present you ever received. This I\nam sure, I am under the greatest obligations to seek all occasions to\nacknowledge a long train of favours I have received from your lordship;\nfavours, though great and important in themselves, yet made much more\nso by the forwardness, concern, and kindness, and other obliging\ncircumstances, that never failed to accompany them. To all this you are\npleased to add that which gives yet more weight and relish to all the\nrest: you vouchsafe to continue me in some degrees of your esteem, and\nallow me a place in your good thoughts, I had almost said friendship.\nThis, my lord, your words and actions so constantly show on all\noccasions, even to others when I am absent, that it is not vanity in me\nto mention what everybody knows: but it would be want of good manners\nnot to acknowledge what so many are witnesses of, and every day tell me\nI am indebted to your lordship for. I wish they could as easily assist\nmy gratitude, as they convince me of the great and growing engagements\nit has to your lordship. This I am sure, I should write of the\nUNDERSTANDING without having any, if I were not extremely sensible of\nthem, and did not lay hold on this opportunity to testify to the world\nhow much I am obliged to be, and how much I am,\n\nMY LORD,\n\nYour Lordship\u2019s most humble and most obedient servant,\n\nJOHN LOCKE\n\n2 Dorset Court, 24th of May, 1689\n\n\n\n\nTHE EPISTLE TO THE READER\n\nREADER,\n\nI have put into thy hands what has been the diversion of some of my\nidle and heavy hours. If it has the good luck to prove so of any of\nthine, and thou hast but half so much pleasure in reading as I had in\nwriting it, thou wilt as little think thy money, as I do my pains, ill\nbestowed. Mistake not this for a commendation of my work; nor conclude,\nbecause I was pleased with the doing of it, that therefore I am fondly\ntaken with it now it is done. He that hawks at larks and sparrows has\nno less sport, though a much less considerable quarry, than he that\nflies at nobler game: and he is little acquainted with the subject of\nthis treatise\u2014the UNDERSTANDING\u2014who does not know that, as it is the\nmost elevated faculty of the soul, so it is employed with a greater and\nmore constant delight than any of the other. Its searches after truth\nare a sort of hawking and hunting, wherein the very pursuit makes a\ngreat part of the pleasure. Every step the mind takes in its progress\ntowards Knowledge makes some discovery, which is not only new, but the\nbest too, for the time at least.\n\nFor the understanding, like the eye, judging of objects only by its own\nsight, cannot but be pleased with what it discovers, having less regret\nfor what has escaped it, because it is unknown. Thus he who has raised\nhimself above the alms-basket, and, not content to live lazily on\nscraps of begged opinions, sets his own thoughts on work, to find and\nfollow truth, will (whatever he lights on) not miss the hunter\u2019s\nsatisfaction; every moment of his pursuit will reward his pains with\nsome delight; and he will have reason to think his time not ill spent,\neven when he cannot much boast of any great acquisition.\n\nThis, Reader, is the entertainment of those who let loose their own\nthoughts, and follow them in writing; which thou oughtest not to envy\nthem, since they afford thee an opportunity of the like diversion, if\nthou wilt make use of thy own thoughts in reading. It is to them, if\nthey are thy own, that I refer myself: but if they are taken upon trust\nfrom others, it is no great matter what they are; they are not\nfollowing truth, but some meaner consideration; and it is not worth\nwhile to be concerned what he says or thinks, who says or thinks only\nas he is directed by another. If thou judgest for thyself I know thou\nwilt judge candidly, and then I shall not be harmed or offended,\nwhatever be thy censure. For though it be certain that there is nothing\nin this Treatise of the truth whereof I am not fully persuaded, yet I\nconsider myself as liable to mistakes as I can think thee, and know\nthat this book must stand or fall with thee, not by any opinion I have\nof it, but thy own. If thou findest little in it new or instructive to\nthee, thou art not to blame me for it. It was not meant for those that\nhad already mastered this subject, and made a thorough acquaintance\nwith their own understandings; but for my own information, and the\nsatisfaction of a few friends, who acknowledged themselves not to have\nsufficiently considered it.\n\nWere it fit to trouble thee with the history of this Essay, I should\ntell thee, that five or six friends meeting at my chamber, and\ndiscoursing on a subject very remote from this, found themselves\nquickly at a stand, by the difficulties that rose on every side. After\nwe had awhile puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer a resolution\nof those doubts which perplexed us, it came into my thoughts that we\ntook a wrong course; and that before we set ourselves upon inquiries of\nthat nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and see\nwhat OBJECTS our understandings were, or were not, fitted to deal with.\nThis I proposed to the company, who all readily assented; and thereupon\nit was agreed that this should be our first inquiry. Some hasty and\nundigested thoughts, on a subject I had never before considered, which\nI set down against our next meeting, gave the first entrance into this\nDiscourse; which having been thus begun by chance, was continued by\nintreaty; written by incoherent parcels; and after long intervals of\nneglect, resumed again, as my humour or occasions permitted; and at\nlast, in a retirement where an attendance on my health gave me leisure,\nit was brought into that order thou now seest it.\n\nThis discontinued way of writing may have occasioned, besides others,\ntwo contrary faults, viz., that too little and too much may be said in\nit. If thou findest anything wanting, I shall be glad that what I have\nwritten gives thee any desire that I should have gone further. If it\nseems too much to thee, thou must blame the subject; for when I put pen\nto paper, I thought all I should have to say on this matter would have\nbeen contained in one sheet of paper; but the further I went the larger\nprospect I had; new discoveries led me still on, and so it grew\ninsensibly to the bulk it now appears in. I will not deny, but possibly\nit might be reduced to a narrower compass than it is, and that some\nparts of it might be contracted, the way it has been writ in, by\ncatches, and many long intervals of interruption, being apt to cause\nsome repetitions. But to confess the truth, I am now too lazy, or too\nbusy, to make it shorter. I am not ignorant how little I herein consult\nmy own reputation, when I knowingly let it go with a fault, so apt to\ndisgust the most judicious, who are always the nicest readers. But they\nwho know sloth is apt to content itself with any excuse, will pardon me\nif mine has prevailed on me, where I think I have a very good one. I\nwill not therefore allege in my defence, that the same notion, having\ndifferent respects, may be convenient or necessary to prove or\nillustrate several parts of the same discourse, and that so it has\nhappened in many parts of this: but waiving that, I shall frankly avow\nthat I have sometimes dwelt long upon the same argument, and expressed\nit different ways, with a quite different design. I pretend not to\npublish this Essay for the information of men of large thoughts and\nquick apprehensions; to such masters of knowledge I profess myself a\nscholar, and therefore warn them beforehand not to expect anything\nhere, but what, being spun out of my own coarse thoughts, is fitted to\nmen of my own size, to whom, perhaps, it will not be unacceptable that\nI have taken some pains to make plain and familiar to their thoughts\nsome truths which established prejudice, or the abstractedness of the\nideas themselves, might render difficult. Some objects had need be\nturned on every side; and when the notion is new, as I confess some of\nthese are to me; or out of the ordinary road, as I suspect they will\nappear to others, it is not one simple view of it that will gain it\nadmittance into every understanding, or fix it there with a clear and\nlasting impression. There are few, I believe, who have not observed in\nthemselves or others, that what in one way of proposing was very\nobscure, another way of expressing it has made very clear and\nintelligible; though afterwards the mind found little difference in the\nphrases, and wondered why one failed to be understood more than the\nother. But everything does not hit alike upon every man\u2019s imagination.\nWe have our understandings no less different than our palates; and he\nthat thinks the same truth shall be equally relished by every one in\nthe same dress, may as well hope to feast every one with the same sort\nof cookery: the meat may be the same, and the nourishment good, yet\nevery one not be able to receive it with that seasoning; and it must be\ndressed another way, if you will have it go down with some, even of\nstrong constitutions. The truth is, those who advised me to publish it,\nadvised me, for this reason, to publish it as it is: and since I have\nbeen brought to let it go abroad, I desire it should be understood by\nwhoever gives himself the pains to read it. I have so little affection\nto be in print, that if I were not flattered this Essay might be of\nsome use to others, as I think it has been to me, I should have\nconfined it to the view of some friends, who gave the first occasion to\nit. My appearing therefore in print being on purpose to be as useful as\nI may, I think it necessary to make what I have to say as easy and\nintelligible to all sorts of readers as I can. And I had much rather\nthe speculative and quick-sighted should complain of my being in some\nparts tedious, than that any one, not accustomed to abstract\nspeculations, or prepossessed with different notions, should mistake or\nnot comprehend my meaning.\n\nIt will possibly be censured as a great piece of vanity or insolence in\nme, to pretend to instruct this our knowing age; it amounting to little\nless, when I own, that I publish this Essay with hopes it may be useful\nto others. But, if it may be permitted to speak freely of those who\nwith a feigned modesty condemn as useless what they themselves write,\nmethinks it savours much more of vanity or insolence to publish a book\nfor any other end; and he fails very much of that respect he owes the\npublic, who prints, and consequently expects men should read, that\nwherein he intends not they should meet with anything of use to\nthemselves or others: and should nothing else be found allowable in\nthis Treatise, yet my design will not cease to be so; and the goodness\nof my intention ought to be some excuse for the worthlessness of my\npresent. It is that chiefly which secures me from the fear of censure,\nwhich I expect not to escape more than better writers. Men\u2019s\nprinciples, notions, and relishes are so different, that it is hard to\nfind a book which pleases or displeases all men. I acknowledge the age\nwe live in is not the least knowing, and therefore not the most easy to\nbe satisfied. If I have not the good luck to please, yet nobody ought\nto be offended with me. I plainly tell all my readers, except half a\ndozen, this Treatise was not at first intended for them; and therefore\nthey need not be at the trouble to be of that number. But yet if any\none thinks fit to be angry and rail at it, he may do it securely, for I\nshall find some better way of spending my time than in such kind of\nconversation. I shall always have the satisfaction to have aimed\nsincerely at truth and usefulness, though in one of the meanest ways.\nThe commonwealth of learning is not at this time without\nmaster-builders, whose mighty designs, in advancing the sciences, will\nleave lasting monuments to the admiration of posterity: but every one\nmust not hope to be a Boyle or a Sydenham; and in an age that produces\nsuch masters as the great Huygenius and the incomparable Mr. Newton,\nwith some others of that strain, it is ambition enough to be employed\nas an under-labourer in clearing the ground a little, and removing some\nof the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge;\u2014which certainly had\nbeen very much more advanced in the world, if the endeavours of\ningenious and industrious men had not been much cumbered with the\nlearned but frivolous use of uncouth, affected, or unintelligible\nterms, introduced into the sciences, and there made an art of, to that\ndegree that Philosophy, which is nothing but the true knowledge of\nthings, was thought unfit or incapable to be brought into well-bred\ncompany and polite conversation. Vague and insignificant forms of\nspeech, and abuse of language, have so long passed for mysteries of\nscience; and hard and misapplied words, with little or no meaning,\nhave, by prescription, such a right to be mistaken for deep learning\nand height of speculation, that it will not be easy to persuade either\nthose who speak or those who hear them, that they are but the covers of\nignorance, and hindrance of true knowledge. To break in upon the\nsanctuary of vanity and ignorance will be, I suppose, some service to\nhuman understanding; though so few are apt to think they deceive or are\ndeceived in the use of words; or that the language of the sect they are\nof has any faults in it which ought to be examined or corrected, that I\nhope I shall be pardoned if I have in the Third Book dwelt long on this\nsubject, and endeavoured to make it so plain, that neither the\ninveterateness of the mischief, nor the prevalency of the fashion,\nshall be any excuse for those who will not take care about the meaning\nof their own words, and will not suffer the significancy of their\nexpressions to be inquired into.\n\nI have been told that a short Epitome of this Treatise, which was\nprinted in 1688, was by some condemned without reading, because INNATE\nIDEAS were denied in it; they too hastily concluding, that if innate\nideas were not supposed, there would be little left either of the\nnotion or proof of spirits. If any one take the like offence at the\nentrance of this Treatise, I shall desire him to read it through; and\nthen I hope he will be convinced, that the taking away false\nfoundations is not to the prejudice but advantage of truth, which is\nnever injured or endangered so much as when mixed with, or built on,\nfalsehood. In the Second Edition I added as followeth:\u2014\n\nThe bookseller will not forgive me if I say nothing of this New\nEdition, which he has promised, by the correctness of it, shall make\namends for the many faults committed in the former. He desires too,\nthat it should be known that it has one whole new chapter concerning\nIdentity, and many additions and amendments in other places. These I\nmust inform my reader are not all new matter, but most of them either\nfurther confirmation of what I had said, or explications, to prevent\nothers being mistaken in the sense of what was formerly printed, and\nnot any variation in me from it.\n\nI must only except the alterations I have made in Book II. chap. xxi.\n\nWhat I had there written concerning Liberty and the Will, I thought\ndeserved as accurate a view as I am capable of; those subjects having\nin all ages exercised the learned part of the world with questions and\ndifficulties, that have not a little perplexed morality and divinity,\nthose parts of knowledge that men are most concerned to be clear in.\nUpon a closer inspection into the working of men\u2019s minds, and a\nstricter examination of those motives and views they are turned by, I\nhave found reason somewhat to alter the thoughts I formerly had\nconcerning that which gives the last determination to the Will in all\nvoluntary actions. This I cannot forbear to acknowledge to the world\nwith as much freedom and readiness; as I at first published what then\nseemed to me to be right; thinking myself more concerned to quit and\nrenounce any opinion of my own, than oppose that of another, when truth\nappears against it. For it is truth alone I seek, and that will always\nbe welcome to me, when or from whencesoever it comes. But what\nforwardness soever I have to resign any opinion I have, or to recede\nfrom anything I have writ, upon the first evidence of any error in it;\nyet this I must own, that I have not had the good luck to receive any\nlight from those exceptions I have met with in print against any part\nof my book, nor have, from anything that has been urged against it,\nfound reason to alter my sense in any of the points that have been\nquestioned. Whether the subject I have in hand requires often more\nthought and attention than cursory readers, at least such as are\nprepossessed, are willing to allow; or whether any obscurity in my\nexpressions casts a cloud over it, and these notions are made difficult\nto others\u2019 apprehensions in my way of treating them; so it is, that my\nmeaning, I find, is often mistaken, and I have not the good luck to be\neverywhere rightly understood.\n\nOf this the ingenious author of the Discourse Concerning the Nature of\nMan has given me a late instance, to mention no other. For the civility\nof his expressions, and the candour that belongs to his order, forbid\nme to think that he would have closed his Preface with an insinuation,\nas if in what I had said, Book II. ch. xxvii, concerning the third rule\nwhich men refer their actions to, I went about to make virtue vice and\nvice virtue, unless he had mistaken my meaning; which he could not have\ndone if he had given himself the trouble to consider what the argument\nwas I was then upon, and what was the chief design of that chapter,\nplainly enough set down in the fourth section and those following. For\nI was there not laying down moral rules, but showing the original and\nnature of moral ideas, and enumerating the rules men make use of in\nmoral relations, whether these rules were true or false: and pursuant\nthereto I tell what is everywhere called virtue and vice; which \u201calters\nnot the nature of things,\u201d though men generally do judge of and\ndenominate their actions according to the esteem and fashion of the\nplace and sect they are of.\n\nIf he had been at the pains to reflect on what I had said, Bk. I. ch.\nii. sect. 18, and Bk. II. ch. xxviii. sect. 13, 14, 15 and 20, he would\nhave known what I think of the eternal and unalterable nature of right\nand wrong, and what I call virtue and vice. And if he had observed that\nin the place he quotes I only report as a matter of fact what OTHERS\ncall virtue and vice, he would not have found it liable to any great\nexception. For I think I am not much out in saying that one of the\nrules made use of in the world for a ground or measure of a moral\nrelation is\u2014that esteem and reputation which several sorts of actions\nfind variously in the several societies of men, according to which they\nare there called virtues or vices. And whatever authority the learned\nMr. Lowde places in his Old English Dictionary, I daresay it nowhere\ntells him (if I should appeal to it) that the same action is not in\ncredit, called and counted a virtue, in one place, which, being in\ndisrepute, passes for and under the name of vice in another. The taking\nnotice that men bestow the names of \u2018virtue\u2019 and \u2018vice\u2019 according to\nthis rule of Reputation is all I have done, or can be laid to my charge\nto have done, towards the making vice virtue or virtue vice. But the\ngood man does well, and as becomes his calling, to be watchful in such\npoints, and to take the alarm even at expressions, which, standing\nalone by themselves, might sound ill and be suspected.\n\n\u2018Tis to this zeal, allowable in his function, that I forgive his citing\nas he does these words of mine (ch. xxviii. sect. II): \u201cEven the\nexhortations of inspired teachers have not feared to appeal to common\nrepute, Philip, iv. 8;\u201d without taking notice of those immediately\npreceding, which introduce them, and run thus: \u201cWhereby even in the\ncorruption of manners, the true boundaries of the law of nature, which\nought to be the rule of virtue and vice, were pretty well preserved. So\nthat even the exhortations of inspired teachers,\u201d &c. By which words,\nand the rest of that section, it is plain that I brought that passage\nof St. Paul, not to prove that the general measure of what men called\nvirtue and vice throughout the world was the reputation and fashion of\neach particular society within itself; but to show that, though it were\nso, yet, for reasons I there give, men, in that way of denominating\ntheir actions, did not for the most part much stray from the Law of\nNature; which is that standing and unalterable rule by which they ought\nto judge of the moral rectitude and gravity of their actions, and\naccordingly denominate them virtues or vices. Had Mr. Lowde considered\nthis, he would have found it little to his purpose to have quoted this\npassage in a sense I used it not; and would I imagine have spared the\napplication he subjoins to it, as not very necessary. But I hope this\nSecond Edition will give him satisfaction on the point, and that this\nmatter is now so expressed as to show him there was no cause for\nscruple.\n\nThough I am forced to differ from him in these apprehensions he has\nexpressed, in the latter end of his preface, concerning what I had said\nabout virtue and vice, yet we are better agreed than he thinks in what\nhe says in his third chapter (p. 78) concerning \u201cnatural inscription\nand innate notions.\u201d I shall not deny him the privilege he claims (p.\n52), to state the question as he pleases, especially when he states it\nso as to leave nothing in it contrary to what I have said. For,\naccording to him, \u201cinnate notions, being conditional things, depending\nupon the concurrence of several other circumstances in order to the\nsoul\u2019s exerting them,\u201d all that he says for \u201cinnate, imprinted,\nimpressed notions\u201d (for of innate IDEAS he says nothing at all),\namounts at last only to this\u2014that there are certain propositions which,\nthough the soul from the beginning, or when a man is born, does not\nknow, yet \u201cby assistance from the outward senses, and the help of some\nprevious cultivation,\u201d it may AFTERWARDS come certainly to know the\ntruth of; which is no more than what I have affirmed in my First Book.\nFor I suppose by the \u201csoul\u2019s exerting them,\u201d he means its beginning to\nknow them; or else the soul\u2019s \u2018exerting of notions\u2019 will be to me a\nvery unintelligible expression; and I think at best is a very unfit one\nin this, it misleading men\u2019s thoughts by an insinuation, as if these\nnotions were in the mind before the \u2018soul exerts them,\u2019 i. e. before\nthey are known;\u2014whereas truly before they are known, there is nothing\nof them in the mind but a capacity to know them, when the \u2018concurrence\nof those circumstances,\u2019 which this ingenious author thinks necessary\n\u2018in order to the soul\u2019s exerting them,\u2019 brings them into our knowledge.\n\nP. 52 I find him express it thus: \u2018These natural notions are not so\nimprinted upon the soul as that they naturally and necessarily exert\nthemselves (even in children and idiots) without any assistance from\nthe outward senses, or without the help of some previous cultivation.\u2019\nHere, he says, they \u2018exert themselves,\u2019 as p. 78, that the \u2018soul exerts\nthem.\u2019 When he has explained to himself or others what he means by \u2018the\nsoul\u2019s exerting innate notions,\u2019 or their \u2018exerting themselves;\u2019 and\nwhat that \u2018previous cultivation and circumstances\u2019 in order to their\nbeing exerted are\u2014he will I suppose find there is so little of\ncontroversy between him and me on the point, bating that he calls that\n\u2018exerting of notions\u2019 which I in a more vulgar style call \u2018knowing,\u2019\nthat I have reason to think he brought in my name on this occasion only\nout of the pleasure he has to speak civilly of me; which I must\ngratefully acknowledge he has done everywhere he mentions me, not\nwithout conferring on me, as some others have done, a title I have no\nright to.\n\nThere are so many instances of this, that I think it justice to my\nreader and myself to conclude, that either my book is plainly enough\nwritten to be rightly understood by those who peruse it with that\nattention and indifferency, which every one who will give himself the\npains to read ought to employ in reading; or else that I have written\nmine so obscurely that it is in vain to go about to mend it. Whichever\nof these be the truth, it is myself only am affected thereby; and\ntherefore I shall be far from troubling my reader with what I think\nmight be said in answer to those several objections I have met with, to\npassages here and there of my book; since I persuade myself that he who\nthinks them of moment enough to be concerned whether they are true or\nfalse, will be able to see that what is said is either not well\nfounded, or else not contrary to my doctrine, when I and my opposer\ncome both to be well understood.\n\nIf any other authors, careful that none of their good thoughts should\nbe lost, have published their censures of my Essay, with this honour\ndone to it, that they will not suffer it to be an essay, I leave it to\nthe public to value the obligation they have to their critical pens,\nand shall not waste my reader\u2019s time in so idle or ill-natured an\nemployment of mine, as to lessen the satisfaction any one has in\nhimself, or gives to others, in so hasty a confutation of what I have\nwritten.\n\nThe booksellers preparing for the Fourth Edition of my Essay, gave me\nnotice of it, that I might, if I had leisure, make any additions or\nalterations I should think fit. Whereupon I thought it convenient to\nadvertise the reader, that besides several corrections I had made here\nand there, there was one alteration which it was necessary to mention,\nbecause it ran through the whole book, and is of consequence to be\nrightly understood. What I thereupon said was this:\u2014\n\nCLEAR and DISTINCT ideas are terms which, though familiar and frequent\nin men\u2019s mouths, I have reason to think every one who uses does not\nperfectly understand. And possibly \u2018tis but here and there one who\ngives himself the trouble to consider them so far as to know what he\nhimself or others precisely mean by them. I have therefore in most\nplaces chose to put DETERMINATE or DETERMINED, instead of CLEAR and\nDISTINCT, as more likely to direct men\u2019s thoughts to my meaning in this\nmatter. By those denominations, I mean some object in the mind, and\nconsequently determined, i. e. such as it is there seen and perceived\nto be. This, I think, may fitly be called a determinate or determined\nidea, when such as it is at any time objectively in the mind, and so\ndetermined there, it is annexed, and without variation determined, to a\nname or articulate sound, which is to be steadily the sign of that very\nsame object of the mind, or determinate idea.\n\nTo explain this a little more particularly. By DETERMINATE, when\napplied to a simple idea, I mean that simple appearance which the mind\nhas in its view, or perceives in itself, when that idea is said to be\nin it: by DETERMINED, when applied to a complex idea, I mean such an\none as consists of a determinate number of certain simple or less\ncomplex ideas, joined in such a proportion and situation as the mind\nhas before its view, and sees in itself, when that idea is present in\nit, or should be present in it, when a man gives a name to it. I say\nSHOULD be, because it is not every one, nor perhaps any one, who is so\ncareful of his language as to use no word till he views in his mind the\nprecise determined idea which he resolves to make it the sign of. The\nwant of this is the cause of no small obscurity and confusion in men\u2019s\nthoughts and discourses.\n\nI know there are not words enough in any language to answer all the\nvariety of ideas that enter into men\u2019s discourses and reasonings. But\nthis hinders not but that when any one uses any term, he may have in\nhis mind a determined idea, which he makes it the sign of, and to which\nhe should keep it steadily annexed during that present discourse. Where\nhe does not, or cannot do this, he in vain pretends to clear or\ndistinct ideas: it is plain his are not so; and therefore there can be\nexpected nothing but obscurity and confusion, where such terms are made\nuse of which have not such a precise determination.\n\nUpon this ground I have thought determined ideas a way of speaking less\nliable to mistakes, than clear and distinct: and where men have got\nsuch determined ideas of all that they reason, inquire, or argue about,\nthey will find a great part of their doubts and disputes at an end; the\ngreatest part of the questions and controversies that perplex mankind\ndepending on the doubtful and uncertain use of words, or (which is the\nsame) indetermined ideas, which they are made to stand for. I have made\nchoice of these terms to signify, (1) Some immediate object of the\nmind, which it perceives and has before it, distinct from the sound it\nuses as a sign of it. (2) That this idea, thus determined, i.e. which\nthe mind has in itself, and knows, and sees there, be determined\nwithout any change to that name, and that name determined to that\nprecise idea. If men had such determined ideas in their inquiries and\ndiscourses, they would both discern how far their own inquiries and\ndiscourses went, and avoid the greatest part of the disputes and\nwranglings they have with others.\n\nBesides this, the bookseller will think it necessary I should advertise\nthe reader that there is an addition of two chapters wholly new; the\none of the Association of Ideas, the other of Enthusiasm. These, with\nsome other larger additions never before printed, he has engaged to\nprint by themselves, after the same manner, and for the same purpose,\nas was done when this Essay had the second impression.\n\nIn the Sixth Edition there is very little added or altered. The\ngreatest part of what is new is contained in the twenty-first chapter\nof the second book, which any one, if he thinks it worth while, may,\nwith a very little labour, transcribe into the margin of the former\nedition.\n\n\n\n\nESSAY CONCERNING HUMANE UNDERSTANDING.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK I\nNEITHER PRINCIPLES NOR IDEAS ARE INNATE\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\n1. An Inquiry into the Understanding pleasant and useful.\n\nSince it is the UNDERSTANDING that sets man above the rest of sensible\nbeings, and gives him all the advantage and dominion which he has over\nthem; it is certainly a subject, even for its nobleness, worth our\nlabour to inquire into. The understanding, like the eye, whilst it\nmakes us see and perceive all other things, takes no notice of itself;\nand it requires and art and pains to set it at a distance and make it\nits own object. But whatever be the difficulties that lie in the way of\nthis inquiry; whatever it be that keeps us so much in the dark to\nourselves; sure I am that all the light we can let in upon our minds,\nall the acquaintance we can make with our own understandings, will not\nonly be very pleasant, but bring us great advantage, in directing our\nthoughts in the search of other things.\n\n2. Design.\n\nThis, therefore, being my purpose\u2014to inquire into the original,\ncertainty, and extent of HUMAN KNOWLEDGE, together with the grounds and\ndegrees of BELIEF, OPINION, and ASSENT;\u2014I shall not at present meddle\nwith the physical consideration of the mind; or trouble myself to\nexamine wherein its essence consists; or by what motions of our spirits\nor alterations of our bodies we come to have any SENSATION by our\norgans, or any IDEAS in our understandings; and whether those ideas do\nin their formation, any or all of them, depend on matter or not. These\nare speculations which, however curious and entertaining, I shall\ndecline, as lying out of my way in the design I am now upon. It shall\nsuffice to my present purpose, to consider the discerning faculties of\na man, as they are employed about the objects which they have to do\nwith. And I shall imagine I have not wholly misemployed myself in the\nthoughts I shall have on this occasion, if, in this historical, plain\nmethod, I can give any account of the ways whereby our understandings\ncome to attain those notions of things we have; and can set down any\nmeasures of the certainty of our knowledge; or the grounds of those\npersuasions which are to be found amongst men, so various, different,\nand wholly contradictory; and yet asserted somewhere or other with such\nassurance and confidence, that he that shall take a view of the\nopinions of mankind, observe their opposition, and at the same time\nconsider the fondness and devotion wherewith they are embraced, the\nresolution and eagerness wherewith they are maintained, may perhaps\nhave reason to suspect, that either there is no such thing as truth at\nall, or that mankind hath no sufficient means to attain a certain\nknowledge of it.\n\n3. Method.\n\nIt is therefore worth while to search out the bounds between opinion\nand knowledge; and examine by what measures, in things whereof we have\nno certain knowledge, we ought to regulate our assent and moderate our\npersuasion. In order whereunto I shall pursue this following method:\u2014\nFirst, I shall inquire into the original of those ideas, notions, or\nwhatever else you please to call them, which a man observes, and is\nconscious to himself he has in his mind; and the ways whereby the\nunderstanding comes to be furnished with them.\n\nSecondly, I shall endeavour to show what knowledge the understanding\nhath by those ideas; and the certainty, evidence, and extent of it.\n\nThirdly, I shall make some inquiry into the nature and grounds of FAITH\nor OPINION: whereby I mean that assent which we give to any proposition\nas true, of whose truth yet we have no certain knowledge. And here we\nshall have occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of ASSENT.\n\n4. Useful to know the Extent of our Comprehension.\n\nIf by this inquiry into the nature of the understanding, I can discover\nthe powers thereof; how far they reach; to what things they are in any\ndegree proportionate; and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of\nuse to prevail with the busy mind of man to be more cautious in\nmeddling with things exceeding its comprehension; to stop when it is at\nthe utmost extent of its tether; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance\nof those things which, upon examination, are found to be beyond the\nreach of our capacities. We should not then perhaps be so forward, out\nof an affectation of an universal knowledge, to raise questions, and\nperplex ourselves and others with disputes about things to which our\nunderstandings are not suited; and of which we cannot frame in our\nminds any clear or distinct perceptions, or whereof (as it has perhaps\ntoo often happened) we have not any notions at all. If we can find out\nhow far the understanding can extend its view; how far it has faculties\nto attain certainty; and in what cases it can only judge and guess, we\nmay learn to content ourselves with what is attainable by us in this\nstate.\n\n5. Our Capacity suited to our State and Concerns.\n\nFor though the comprehension of our understandings comes exceeding\nshort of the vast extent of things, yet we shall have cause enough to\nmagnify the bountiful Author of our being, for that proportion and\ndegree of knowledge he has bestowed on us, so far above all the rest of\nthe inhabitants of this our mansion. Men have reason to be well\nsatisfied with what God hath thought fit for them, since he hath given\nthem (as St. Peter says) [words in Greek], whatsoever is necessary for\nthe conveniences of life and information of virtue; and has put within\nthe reach of their discovery, the comfortable provision for this life,\nand the way that leads to a better. How short soever their knowledge\nmay come of an universal or perfect comprehension of whatsoever is, it\nyet secures their great concernments, that they have light enough to\nlead them to the knowledge of their Maker, and the sight of their own\nduties. Men may find matter sufficient to busy their heads, and employ\ntheir hands with variety, delight, and satisfaction, if they will not\nboldly quarrel with their own constitution, and throw away the\nblessings their hands are filled with, because they are not big enough\nto grasp everything. We shall not have much reason to complain of the\nnarrowness of our minds, if we will but employ them about what may be\nof use to us; for of that they are very capable. And it will be an\nunpardonable, as well as childish peevishness, if we undervalue the\nadvantages of our knowledge, and neglect to improve it to the ends for\nwhich it was given us, because there are some things that are set out\nof the reach of it. It will be no excuse to an idle and untoward\nservant, who would not attend his business by candle light, to plead\nthat he had not broad sunshine. The Candle that is set up in us shines\nbright enough for all our purposes. The discoveries we can make with\nthis ought to satisfy us; and we shall then use our understandings\nright, when we entertain all objects in that way and proportion that\nthey are suited to our faculties, and upon those grounds they are\ncapable of being proposed to us; and not peremptorily or intemperately\nrequire demonstration, and demand certainty, where probability only is\nto be had, and which is sufficient to govern all our concernments. If\nwe will disbelieve everything, because we cannot certainly know all\nthings, we shall do much\u2014what as wisely as he who would not use his\nlegs, but sit still and perish, because he had no wings to fly.\n\n6. Knowledge of our Capacity a Cure of Scepticism and Idleness.\n\nWhen we know our own strength, we shall the better know what to\nundertake with hopes of success; and when we have well surveyed the\nPOWERS of our own minds, and made some estimate what we may expect from\nthem, we shall not be inclined either to sit still, and not set our\nthoughts on work at all, in despair of knowing anything; nor on the\nother side, question everything, and disclaim all knowledge, because\nsome things are not to be understood. It is of great use to the sailor\nto know the length of his line, though he cannot with it fathom all the\ndepths of the ocean. It is well he knows that it is long enough to\nreach the bottom, at such places as are necessary to direct his voyage,\nand caution him against running upon shoals that may ruin him. Our\nbusiness here is not to know all things, but those which concern our\nconduct. If we can find out those measures, whereby a rational\ncreature, put in that state in which man is in this world, may and\nought to govern his opinions, and actions depending thereon, we need\nnot to be troubled that some other things escape our knowledge.\n\n7. Occasion of this Essay.\n\nThis was that which gave the first rise to this Essay concerning the\nunderstanding. For I thought that the first step towards satisfying\nseveral inquiries the mind of man was very apt to run into, was, to\ntake a survey of our own understandings, examine our own powers, and\nsee to what things they were adapted. Till that was done I suspected we\nbegan at the wrong end, and in vain sought for satisfaction in a quiet\nand sure possession of truths that most concerned us, whilst we let\nloose our thoughts into the vast ocean of Being; as if all that\nboundless extent were the natural and undoubted possession of our\nunderstandings, wherein there was nothing exempt from its decisions, or\nthat escaped its comprehension. Thus men, extending their inquiries\nbeyond their capacities, and letting their thoughts wander into those\ndepths where they can find no sure footing, it is no wonder that they\nraise questions and multiply disputes, which, never coming to any clear\nresolution, are proper only to continue and increase their doubts, and\nto confirm them at last in perfect scepticism. Whereas, were the\ncapacities of our understandings well considered, the extent of our\nknowledge once discovered, and the horizon found which sets the bounds\nbetween the enlightened and dark parts of things; between what is and\nwhat is not comprehensible by us, men would perhaps with less scruple\nacquiesce in the avowed ignorance of the one, and employ their thoughts\nand discourse with more advantage and satisfaction in the other.\n\n8. What Idea stands for.\n\nThus much I thought necessary to say concerning the occasion of this\ninquiry into human Understanding. But, before I proceed on to what I\nhave thought on this subject, I must here in the entrance beg pardon of\nmy reader for the frequent use of the word IDEA, which he will find in\nthe following treatise. It being that term which, I think, serves best\nto stand for whatsoever is the OBJECT of the understanding when a man\nthinks, I have used it to express whatever is meant by PHANTASM,\nNOTION, SPECIES, or WHATEVER IT IS WHICH THE MIND CAN BE EMPLOYED ABOUT\nIN THINKING; and I could not avoid frequently using it. I presume it\nwill be easily granted me, that there are such IDEAS in men\u2019s minds:\nevery one is conscious of them in himself; and men\u2019s words and actions\nwill satisfy him that they are in others.\n\nOur first inquiry then shall be,\u2014how they come into the mind.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\nNO INNATE SPECULATIVE PRINCIPLES.\n\n\n1. The way shown how we come by any Knowledge, sufficient to prove it\nnot innate.\n\nIt is an established opinion amongst some men, that there are in the\nunderstanding certain INNATE PRINCIPLES; some primary notions, \u039a\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u1f70\u03b9\n\u03b5\u1f54\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9\u03b1\u03b9, characters, as it were stamped upon the mind of man; which the\nsoul receives in its very first being, and brings into the world with\nit. It would be sufficient to convince unprejudiced readers of the\nfalseness of this supposition, if I should only show (as I hope I shall\nin the following parts of this Discourse) how men, barely by the use of\ntheir natural faculties may attain to all the knowledge they have,\nwithout the help of any innate impressions; and may arrive at\ncertainty, without any such original notions or principles. For I\nimagine any one will easily grant that it would be impertinent to\nsuppose the ideas of colours innate in a creature to whom God hath\ngiven sight, and a power to receive them by the eyes from external\nobjects: and no less unreasonable would it be to attribute several\ntruths to the impressions of nature, and innate characters, when we may\nobserve in ourselves faculties fit to attain as easy and certain\nknowledge of them as if they were originally imprinted on the mind.\n\nBut because a man is not permitted without censure to follow his own\nthoughts in the search of truth, when they lead him ever so little out\nof the common road, I shall set down the reasons that made me doubt of\nthe truth of that opinion, as an excuse for my mistake, if I be in one;\nwhich I leave to be considered by those who, with me, dispose\nthemselves to embrace truth wherever they find it.\n\n2. General Assent the great Argument.\n\nThere is nothing more commonly taken for granted than that there are\ncertain PRINCIPLES, both SPECULATIVE and PRACTICAL, (for they speak of\nboth), universally agreed upon by all mankind: which therefore, they\nargue, must needs be the constant impressions which the souls of men\nreceive in their first beings, and which they bring into the world with\nthem, as necessarily and really as they do any of their inherent\nfaculties.\n\n3. Universal Consent proves nothing innate.\n\nThis argument, drawn from universal consent, has this misfortune in it,\nthat if it were true in matter of fact, that there were certain truths\nwherein all mankind agreed, it would not prove them innate, if there\ncan be any other way shown how men may come to that universal\nagreement, in the things they do consent in, which I presume may be\ndone.\n\n4. \u201cWhat is is,\u201d and \u201cIt is possible for the same Thing to be and not\nto be,\u201d not universally assented to.\n\nBut, which is worse, this argument of universal consent, which is made\nuse of to prove innate principles, seems to me a demonstration that\nthere are none such: because there are none to which all mankind give\nan universal assent. I shall begin with the speculative, and instance\nin those magnified principles of demonstration, \u201cWhatsoever is, is,\u201d\nand \u201cIt is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be\u201d; which,\nof all others, I think have the most allowed title to innate. These\nhave so settled a reputation of maxims universally received, that it\nwill no doubt be thought strange if any one should seem to question it.\nBut yet I take liberty to say, that these propositions are so far from\nhaving an universal assent, that there are a great part of mankind to\nwhom they are not so much as known.\n\n5. Not on Mind naturally imprinted, because not known to Children,\nIdiots, &c.\n\nFor, first, it is evident, that all children and idiots have not the\nleast apprehension or thought of them. And the want of that is enough\nto destroy that universal assent which must needs be the necessary\nconcomitant of all innate truths: it seeming to me near a contradiction\nto say, that there are truths imprinted on the soul, which it perceives\nor understands not: imprinting, if it signify anything, being nothing\nelse but the making certain truths to be perceived. For to imprint\nanything on the mind without the mind\u2019s perceiving it, seems to me\nhardly intelligible. If therefore children and idiots have souls, have\nminds, with those impressions upon them, THEY must unavoidably perceive\nthem, and necessarily know and assent to these truths; which since they\ndo not, it is evident that there are no such impressions. For if they\nare not notions naturally imprinted, how can they be innate? and if\nthey are notions imprinted, how can they be unknown? To say a notion is\nimprinted on the mind, and yet at the same time to say, that the mind\nis ignorant of it, and never yet took notice of it, is to make this\nimpression nothing. No proposition can be said to be in the mind which\nit never yet knew, which it was never yet conscious of. For if any one\nmay, then, by the same reason, all propositions that are true, and the\nmind is capable ever of assenting to, may be said to be in the mind,\nand to be imprinted: since, if any one can be said to be in the mind,\nwhich it never yet knew, it must be only because it is capable of\nknowing it; and so the mind is of all truths it ever shall know. Nay,\nthus truths may be imprinted on the mind which it never did, nor ever\nshall know; for a man may live long, and die at last in ignorance of\nmany truths which his mind was capable of knowing, and that with\ncertainty. So that if the capacity of knowing be the natural impression\ncontended for, all the truths a man ever comes to know will, by this\naccount, be every one of them innate; and this great point will amount\nto no more, but only to a very improper way of speaking; which, whilst\nit pretends to assert the contrary, says nothing different from those\nwho deny innate principles. For nobody, I think, ever denied that the\nmind was capable of knowing several truths. The capacity, they say, is\ninnate; the knowledge acquired. But then to what end such contest for\ncertain innate maxims? If truths can be imprinted on the understanding\nwithout being perceived, I can see no difference there can be between\nany truths the mind is CAPABLE of knowing in respect of their original:\nthey must all be innate or all adventitious: in vain shall a man go\nabout to distinguish them. He therefore that talks of innate notions in\nthe understanding, cannot (if he intend thereby any distinct sort of\ntruths) mean such truths to be in the understanding as it never\nperceived, and is yet wholly ignorant of. For if these words \u201cto be in\nthe understanding\u201d have any propriety, they signify to be understood.\nSo that to be in the understanding, and not to be understood; to be in\nthe mind and never to be perceived, is all one as to say anything is\nand is not in the mind or understanding. If therefore these two\npropositions, \u201cWhatsoever is, is,\u201d and \u201cIt is impossible for the same\nthing to be and not to be,\u201d are by nature imprinted, children cannot be\nignorant of them: infants, and all that have souls, must necessarily\nhave them in their understandings, know the truth of them, and assent\nto it.\n\n6. That men know them when they come to the Use of Reason answered.\n\nTo avoid this, it is usually answered, that all men know and assent to\nthem, WHEN THEY COME TO THE USE OF REASON; and this is enough to prove\nthem innate. I answer:\n\n7. Doubtful expressions, that have scarce any signification, go for\nclear reasons to those who, being prepossessed, take not the pains to\nexamine even what they themselves say. For, to apply this answer with\nany tolerable sense to our present purpose, it must signify one of\nthese two things: either that as soon as men come to the use of reason\nthese supposed native inscriptions come to be known and observed by\nthem; or else, that the use and exercise of men\u2019s reason, assists them\nin the discovery of these principles, and certainly makes them known to\nthem.\n\n8. If Reason discovered them, that would not prove them innate.\n\nIf they mean, that by the use of reason men may discover these\nprinciples, and that this is sufficient to prove them innate; their way\nof arguing will stand thus, viz. that whatever truths reason can\ncertainly discover to us, and make us firmly assent to, those are all\nnaturally imprinted on the mind; since that universal assent, which is\nmade the mark of them, amounts to no more but this,\u2014that by the use of\nreason we are capable to come to a certain knowledge of and assent to\nthem; and, by this means, there will be no difference between the\nmaxims of the mathematicians, and theorems they deduce from them: all\nmust be equally allowed innate; they being all discoveries made by the\nuse of reason, and truths that a rational creature may certainly come\nto know, if he apply his thoughts rightly that way.\n\n9. It is false that Reason discovers them.\n\nBut how can these men think the use of reason necessary to discover\nprinciples that are supposed innate, when reason (if we may believe\nthem) is nothing else but the faculty of deducing unknown truths from\nprinciples or propositions that are already known? That certainly can\nnever be thought innate which we have need of reason to discover;\nunless, as I have said, we will have all the certain truths that reason\never teaches us, to be innate. We may as well think the use of reason\nnecessary to make our eyes discover visible objects, as that there\nshould be need of reason, or the exercise thereof, to make the\nunderstanding see what is originally engraven on it, and cannot be in\nthe understanding before it be perceived by it. So that to make reason\ndiscover those truths thus imprinted, is to say, that the use of reason\ndiscovers to a man what he knew before: and if men have those innate\nimpressed truths originally, and before the use of reason, and yet are\nalways ignorant of them till they come to the use of reason, it is in\neffect to say, that men know and know them not at the same time.\n\n10. No use made of reasoning in the discovery of these two maxims.\n\nIt will here perhaps be said that mathematical demonstrations, and\nother truths that are not innate, are not assented to as soon as\nproposed, wherein they are distinguished from these maxims and other\ninnate truths. I shall have occasion to speak of assent upon the first\nproposing, more particularly by and by. I shall here only, and that\nvery readily, allow, that these maxims and mathematical demonstrations\nare in this different: that the one have need of reason, using of\nproofs, to make them out and to gain our assent; but the other, as soon\nas understood, are, without any the least reasoning, embraced and\nassented to. But I withal beg leave to observe, that it lays open the\nweakness of this subterfuge, which requires the use of reason for the\ndiscovery of these general truths: since it must be confessed that in\ntheir discovery there is no use made of reasoning at all. And I think\nthose who give this answer will not be forward to affirm that the\nknowledge of this maxim, \u201cThat it is impossible for the same thing to\nbe and not to be,\u201d is a deduction of our reason. For this would be to\ndestroy that bounty of nature they seem so fond of, whilst they make\nthe knowledge of those principles to depend on the labour of our\nthoughts. For all reasoning is search, and casting about, and requires\npains and application. And how can it with any tolerable sense be\nsupposed, that what was imprinted by nature, as the foundation and\nguide of our reason, should need the use of reason to discover it?\n\n11. And if there were this would prove them not innate.\n\nThose who will take the pains to reflect with a little attention on the\noperations of the understanding, will find that this ready assent of\nthe mind to some truths, depends not, either on native inscription, or\nthe use of reason, but on a faculty of the mind quite distinct from\nboth of them, as we shall see hereafter. Reason, therefore, having\nnothing to do in procuring our assent to these maxims, if by saying,\nthat \u201cmen know and assent to them, when they come to the use of\nreason,\u201d be meant, that the use of reason assists us in the knowledge\nof these maxims, it is utterly false; and were it true, would prove\nthem not to be innate.\n\n12. The coming of the Use of Reason not the Time we come to know these\nMaxims.\n\nIf by knowing and assenting to them \u201cwhen we come to the use of\nreason,\u201d be meant, that this is the time when they come to be taken\nnotice of by the mind; and that as soon as children come to the use of\nreason, they come also to know and assent to these maxims; this also is\nfalse and frivolous. First, it is false; because it is evident these\nmaxims are not in the mind so early as the use of reason; and therefore\nthe coming to the use of reason is falsely assigned as the time of\ntheir discovery. How many instances of the use of reason may we observe\nin children, a long time before they have any knowledge of this maxim,\n\u201cThat it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be?\u201d And a\ngreat part of illiterate people and savages pass many years, even of\ntheir rational age, without ever thinking on this and the like general\npropositions. I grant, men come not to the knowledge of these general\nand more abstract truths, which are thought innate, till they come to\nthe use of reason; and I add, nor then neither. Which is so, because,\ntill after they come to the use of reason, those general abstract ideas\nare not framed in the mind, about which those general maxims are, which\nare mistaken for innate principles, but are indeed discoveries made and\nverities introduced and brought into the mind by the same way, and\ndiscovered by the same steps, as several other propositions, which\nnobody was ever so extravagant as to suppose innate. This I hope to\nmake plain in the sequel of this Discourse. I allow therefore, a\nnecessity that men should come to the use of reason before they get the\nknowledge of those general truths; but deny that men\u2019s coming to the\nuse of reason is the time of their discovery.\n\n13. By this they are not distinguished from other knowable Truths.\n\nIn the mean time it is observable, that this saying that men know and\nassent to these maxims \u201cwhen they come to the use of reason,\u201d amounts\nin reality of fact to no more but this,\u2014that they are never known nor\ntaken notice of before the use of reason, but may possibly be assented\nto some time after, during a man\u2019s life; but when is uncertain. And so\nmay all other knowable truths, as well as these which therefore have no\nadvantage nor distinction from other by this note of being known when\nwe come to the use of reason; nor are thereby proved to be innate, but\nquite the contrary.\n\n14. If coming to the Use of Reason were the Time of their Discovery, it\nwould not prove them innate.\n\nBut, secondly, were it true that the precise time of their being known\nand assented to were, when men come to the use of reason; neither would\nthat prove them innate. This way of arguing is as frivolous as the\nsupposition itself is false. For, by what kind of logic will it appear\nthat any notion is originally by nature imprinted in the mind in its\nfirst constitution, because it comes first to be observed and assented\nto when a faculty of the mind, which has quite a distinct province,\nbegins to exert itself? And therefore the coming to the use of speech,\nif it were supposed the time that these maxims are first assented to,\n(which it may be with as much truth as the time when men come to the\nuse of reason,) would be as good a proof that they were innate, as to\nsay they are innate because men assent to them when they come to the\nuse of reason. I agree then with these men of innate principles, that\nthere is no knowledge of these general and self-evident maxims in the\nmind, till it comes to the exercise of reason: but I deny that the\ncoming to the use of reason is the precise time when they are first\ntaken notice of; and if that were the precise time, I deny that it\nwould prove them innate. All that can with any truth be meant by this\nproposition, that men \u2018assent to them when they come to the use of\nreason,\u2019 is no more but this,\u2014that the making of general abstract\nideas, and the understanding of general names, being a concomitant of\nthe rational faculty, and growing up with it, children commonly get not\nthose general ideas, nor learn the names that stand for them, till,\nhaving for a good while exercised their reason about familiar and more\nparticular ideas, they are, by their ordinary discourse and actions\nwith others, acknowledged to be capable of rational conversation. If\nassenting to these maxims, when men come to the use of reason, can be\ntrue in any other sense, I desire it may be shown; or at least, how in\nthis, or any other sense, it proves them innate.\n\n15. The Steps by which the Mind attains several Truths.\n\nThe senses at first let in PARTICULAR ideas, and furnish the yet empty\ncabinet, and the mind by degrees growing familiar with some of them,\nthey are lodged in the memory, and names got to them. Afterwards, the\nmind proceeding further, abstracts them, and by degrees learns the use\nof general names. In this manner the mind comes to be furnished with\nideas and language, the MATERIALS about which to exercise its\ndiscursive faculty. And the use of reason becomes daily more visible,\nas these materials that give it employment increase. But though the\nhaving of general ideas and the use of general words and reason usually\ngrow together, yet I see not how this any way proves them innate. The\nknowledge of some truths, I confess, is very early in the mind; but in\na way that shows them not to be innate. For, if we will observe, we\nshall find it still to be about ideas, not innate, but acquired; it\nbeing about those first which are imprinted by external things, with\nwhich infants have earliest to do, which make the most frequent\nimpressions on their senses. In ideas thus got, the mind discovers that\nsome agree and others differ, probably as soon as it has any use of\nmemory; as soon as it is able to retain and perceive distinct ideas.\nBut whether it be then or no, this is certain, it does so long before\nit has the use of words; or comes to that which we commonly call \u201cthe\nuse of reason.\u201d For a child knows as certainly before it can speak the\ndifference between the ideas of sweet and bitter (i.e. that sweet is\nnot bitter), as it knows afterwards (when it comes to speak) that\nwormwood and sugarplums are not the same thing.\n\n16. Assent to supposed innate truths depends on having clear and\ndistinct ideas of what their terms mean, and not on their innateness.\n\nA child knows not that three and four are equal to seven, till he comes\nto be able to count seven, and has got the name and idea of equality;\nand then, upon explaining those words, he presently assents to, or\nrather perceives the truth of that proposition. But neither does he\nthen readily assent because it is an innate truth, nor was his assent\nwanting till then because he wanted the use of reason; but the truth of\nit appears to him as soon as he has settled in his mind the clear and\ndistinct ideas that these names stand for. And then he knows the truth\nof that proposition upon the same ground and by the same means, that he\nknew before that a rod and a cherry are not the same thing; and upon\nthe same ground also that he may come to know afterwards \u201cThat it is\nimpossible for the same thing to be and not to be,\u201d as shall be more\nfully shown hereafter. So that the later it is before any one comes to\nhave those general ideas about which those maxims are; or to know the\nsignification of those generic terms that stand for them; or to put\ntogether in his mind the ideas they stand for; the later also will it\nbe before he comes to assent to those maxims;\u2014whose terms, with the\nideas they stand for, being no more innate than those of a cat or a\nweasel he must stay till time and observation have acquainted him with\nthem; and then he will be in a capacity to know the truth of these\nmaxims, upon the first occasion that shall make him put together those\nideas in his mind, and observe whether they agree or disagree,\naccording as is expressed in those propositions. And therefore it is\nthat a man knows that eighteen and nineteen are equal to thirty-seven,\nby the same self-evidence that he knows one and two to be equal to\nthree: yet a child knows this not so soon as the other; not for want of\nthe use of reason, but because the ideas the words eighteen nineteen,\nand thirty-seven stand for, are not so soon got, as those which are\nsignified by one, two, and three.\n\n17. Assenting as soon as proposed and understood, proves them not\ninnate.\n\nThis evasion therefore of general assent when men come to the use of\nreason, failing as it does, and leaving no difference between those\nsupposed innate and other truths that are afterwards acquired and\nlearnt, men have endeavoured to secure an universal assent to those\nthey call maxims, by saying, they are generally assented to as soon as\nproposed, and the terms they are proposed in understood: seeing all\nmen, even children, as soon as they hear and understand the terms,\nassent to these propositions, they think it is sufficient to prove them\ninnate. For, since men never fail after they have once understood the\nwords, to acknowledge them for undoubted truths, they would infer, that\ncertainly these propositions were first lodged in the understanding,\nwhich, without any teaching, the mind, at the very first proposal\nimmediately closes with and assents to, and after that never doubts\nagain.\n\n18. If such an Assent be a Mark of Innate, then \u201cthat one and two are\nequal to three, that Sweetness is not Bitterness,\u201d and a thousand the\nlike, must be innate.\n\nIn answer to this, I demand whether ready assent given to a\nproposition, upon first hearing and understanding the terms, be a\ncertain mark of an innate principle? If it be not, such a general\nassent is in vain urged as a proof of them: if it be said that it is a\nmark of innate, they must then allow all such propositions to be innate\nwhich are generally assented to as soon as heard, whereby they will\nfind themselves plentifully stored with innate principles. For upon the\nsame ground, viz. of assent at first hearing and understanding the\nterms, that men would have those maxims pass for innate, they must also\nadmit several propositions about numbers to be innate; and thus, that\none and two are equal to three, that two and two are equal to four, and\na multitude of other the like propositions in numbers, that everybody\nassents to at first hearing and understanding the terms, must have a\nplace amongst these innate axioms. Nor is this the prerogative of\nnumbers alone, and propositions made about several of them; but even\nnatural philosophy, and all the other sciences, afford propositions\nwhich are sure to meet with assent as soon as they are understood. That\n\u201ctwo bodies cannot be in the same place\u201d is a truth that nobody any\nmore sticks at than at these maxims, that \u201cit is impossible for the\nsame thing to be and not to be,\u201d that \u201cwhite is not black,\u201d that \u201ca\nsquare is not a circle,\u201d that \u201cbitterness is not sweetness.\u201d These and\na million of such other propositions, as many at least as we have\ndistinct ideas of, every man in his wits, at first hearing, and\nknowing, what the names stand for, must necessarily assent to. If these\nmen will be true to their own rule, and have assent at first hearing\nand understanding the terms to be a mark of innate, they must allow not\nonly as many innate propositions, as men have distinct ideas; but as\nmany as men can make propositions wherein, different ideas are denied\none of another. Since every proposition wherein one different idea is\ndenied of another, will as certainly find assent at first hearing and\nunderstanding the terms as this general one, \u201cIt is impossible for the\nsame thing to be and not to be,\u201d or that which is the foundation of it\nand is the easier understood of the two, \u201cThe same is not different\u201d;\nby which account they will have legions of innate propositions of this\none sort, without mentioning any other. But, since no proposition can\nbe innate unless the _ideas_ about which it is be innate, this will be\nto suppose all our ideas of colours, sounds, tastes, figure, &c.,\ninnate, than which there cannot be anything more opposite to reason and\nexperience. Universal and ready assent upon hearing and understanding\nthe terms is, I grant, a mark of self-evidence; but self-evidence,\ndepending not on innate impressions, but on something else, (as we\nshall show hereafter,) belongs to several propositions which nobody was\nyet so extravagant as to pretend to be innate.\n\n19. Such less general Propositions known before these universal Maxims.\n\nNor let it be said, that those more particular self-evident\npropositions, which are assented to at first hearing, as that \u201cone and\ntwo are equal to three,\u201d that \u201cgreen is not red,\u201d &c., are received as\nthe consequences of those more universal propositions which are looked\non as innate principles; since any one, who will but take the pains to\nobserve what passes in the understanding, will certainly find that\nthese, and the like less general propositions, are certainly known, and\nfirmly assented to by those who are utterly ignorant of those more\ngeneral maxims; and so, being earlier in the mind than those (as they\nare called) first principles, cannot owe to them the assent wherewith\nthey are received at first hearing.\n\n20. One and one equal to Two, &c., not general nor useful answered.\n\nIf it be said, that these propositions, viz. \u201ctwo and two are equal to\nfour,\u201d \u201cred is not blue,\u201d &c., are not general maxims nor of any great\nuse, I answer, that makes nothing to the argument of universal assent\nupon hearing and understanding. For, if that be the certain mark of\ninnate, whatever propositions can be found that receives general assent\nas soon as heard understood, that must be admitted for an innate\nproposition as well as this maxim, \u201cThat it is impossible for the same\nthing to be and not to be,\u201d they being upon this ground equal. And as\nto the difference of being more general, that makes this maxim more\nremote from being innate; those general and abstract ideas being more\nstrangers to our first apprehensions than those of more particular\nself-evident propositions; and therefore it is longer before they are\nadmitted, and assented to by the growing understanding. And as to the\nusefulness of these magnified maxims, that perhaps will not be found so\ngreat as is generally conceived, when it comes in its due place to be\nmore fully considered.\n\n21. These Maxims not being known sometimes till proposed, proves them\nnot innate.\n\nBut we have not yet done with \u201cassenting to propositions at first\nhearing and understanding their terms.\u201d It is fit we first take notice\nthat this, instead of being a mark that they are innate, is a proof of\nthe contrary; since it supposes that several, who understand and know\nother things, are ignorant of these principles till they are proposed\nto them; and that one may be unacquainted with these truths till he\nhears them from others. For, if they were innate, what need they be\nproposed in order to gaining assent, when, by being in the\nunderstanding, by a natural and original impression, (if there were any\nsuch,) they could not but be known before? Or doth the proposing them\nprint them clearer in the mind than nature did? If so, then the\nconsequence will be, that a man knows them better after he has been\nthus taught them than he did before. Whence it will follow that these\nprinciples may be made more evident to us by others\u2019 teaching than\nnature has made them by impression: which will ill agree with the\nopinion of innate principles, and give but little authority to them;\nbut, on the contrary, makes them unfit to be the foundations of all our\nother knowledge; as they are pretended to be. This cannot be denied,\nthat men grow first acquainted with many of these self-evident truths\nupon their being proposed: but it is clear that whosoever does so,\nfinds in himself that he then begins to know a proposition, which he\nknew not before, and which from thenceforth he never questions; not\nbecause it was innate, but because the consideration of the nature of\nthe things contained in those words would not suffer him to think\notherwise, how, or whensoever he is brought to reflect on them. And if\nwhatever is assented to at first hearing and understanding the terms\nmust pass for an innate principle, every well-grounded observation,\ndrawn from particulars into a general rule, must be innate. When yet it\nis certain that not all, but only sagacious heads, light at first on\nthese observations, and reduce them into general propositions: not\ninnate but collected from a preceding acquaintance and reflection on\nparticular instances. These, when observing men have made them,\nunobserving men, when they are proposed to them cannot refuse their\nassent to.\n\n22. Implicitly known before proposing, signifies that the Mind is\ncapable of understanding them, or else signifies nothing.\n\nIf it be said, the understanding hath an IMPLICIT knowledge of these\nprinciples, but not an EXPLICIT, before this first hearing (as they\nmust who will say \u201cthat they are in the understanding before they are\nknown,\u201d) it will be hard to conceive what is meant by a principle\nimprinted on the understanding implicitly, unless it be this,\u2014that the\nmind is capable of understanding and assenting firmly to such\npropositions. And thus all mathematical demonstrations, as well as\nfirst principles, must be received as native impressions on the mind;\nwhich I fear they will scarce allow them to be, who find it harder to\ndemonstrate a proposition than assent to it when demonstrated. And few\nmathematicians will be forward to believe, that all the diagrams they\nhave drawn were but copies of those innate characters which nature had\nengraven upon their minds.\n\n23. The Argument of assenting on first hearing, is upon a false\nsupposition of no precedent teaching.\n\nThere is, I fear, this further weakness in the foregoing argument,\nwhich would persuade us that therefore those maxims are to be thought\ninnate, which men admit at first hearing; because they assent to\npropositions which they are not taught, nor do receive from the force\nof any argument or demonstration, but a bare explication or\nunderstanding of the terms. Under which there seems to me to lie this\nfallacy, that men are supposed not to be taught nor to learn anything\n_de novo;_ when, in truth, they are taught, and do learn something they\nwere ignorant of before. For, first, it is evident that they have\nlearned the terms, and their signification; neither of which was born\nwith them. But this is not all the acquired knowledge in the case: the\nideas themselves, about which the proposition is, are not born with\nthem, no more than their names, but got afterwards. So that in all\npropositions that are assented to at first hearing, the terms of the\nproposition, their standing for such ideas, and the ideas themselves\nthat they stand for, being neither of them innate, I would fain know\nwhat there is remaining in such propositions that is innate. For I\nwould gladly have any one name that proposition whose terms or ideas\nwere either of them innate. We by degrees get ideas and names, and\nlearn their appropriated connexion one with another; and then to\npropositions made in such terms, whose signification we have learnt,\nand wherein the agreement or disagreement we can perceive in our ideas\nwhen put together is expressed, we at first hearing assent; though to\nother propositions, in themselves as certain and evident, but which are\nconcerning ideas not so soon or so easily got, we are at the same time\nno way capable of assenting. For, though a child quickly assents to\nthis proposition, \u201cThat an apple is not fire,\u201d when by familiar\nacquaintance he has got the ideas of those two different things\ndistinctly imprinted on his mind, and has learnt that the names apple\nand fire stand for them; yet it will be some years after, perhaps,\nbefore the same child will assent to this proposition, \u201cThat it is\nimpossible for the same thing to be and not to be\u201d; because that,\nthough perhaps the words are as easy to be learnt, yet the\nsignification of them being more large, comprehensive, and abstract\nthan of the names annexed to those sensible things the child hath to do\nwith, it is longer before he learns their precise meaning, and it\nrequires more time plainly to form in his mind those general ideas they\nstand for. Till that be done, you will in vain endeavour to make any\nchild assent to a proposition made up of such general terms; but as\nsoon as ever he has got those ideas, and learned their names, he\nforwardly closes with the one as well as the other of the forementioned\npropositions: and with both for the same reason; viz. because he finds\nthe ideas he has in his mind to agree or disagree, according as the\nwords standing for them are affirmed or denied one of another in the\nproposition. But if propositions be brought to him in words which stand\nfor ideas he has not yet in his mind, to such propositions, however\nevidently true or false in themselves, he affords neither assent nor\ndissent, but is ignorant. For words being but empty sounds, any further\nthan they are signs of our ideas, we cannot but assent to them as they\ncorrespond to those ideas we have, but no further than that. But the\nshowing by what steps and ways knowledge comes into our minds; and the\ngrounds of several degrees of assent, being; the business of the\nfollowing Discourse, it may suffice to have only touched on it here, as\none reason that made me doubt of those innate principles.\n\n24. Not innate because not universally assented to.\n\nTo conclude this argument of universal consent, I agree with these\ndefenders of innate principles,\u2014that if they are innate, they must\nneeds have universal assent. For that a truth should be innate and yet\nnot assented to, is to me as unintelligible as for a man to know a\ntruth and be ignorant of it at the same time. But then, by these men\u2019s\nown confession, they cannot be innate; since they are not assented to\nby those who understand not the terms; nor by a great part of those who\ndo understand them, but have yet never heard nor thought of those\npropositions; which, I think, is at least one half of mankind. But were\nthe number far less, it would be enough to destroy universal assent,\nand thereby show these propositions not to be innate, if children alone\nwere ignorant of them.\n\n25. These Maxims not the first known.\n\nBut that I may not be accused to argue from the thoughts of infants,\nwhich are unknown to us, and to conclude from what passes in their\nunderstandings before they express it; I say next, that these two\ngeneral propositions are not the truths that first possess the minds of\nchildren, nor are antecedent to all acquired and adventitious notions:\nwhich, if they were innate, they must needs be. Whether we can\ndetermine it or no, it matters not, there is certainly a time when\nchildren begin to think, and their words and actions do assure us that\nthey do so. When therefore they are capable of thought, of knowledge,\nof assent, can it rationally be supposed they can be ignorant of those\nnotions that nature has imprinted, were there any such? Can it be\nimagined, with any appearance of reason, that they perceive the\nimpressions from things without, and be at the same time ignorant of\nthose characters which nature itself has taken care to stamp within?\nCan they receive and assent to adventitious notions, and be ignorant of\nthose which are supposed woven into the very principles of their being,\nand imprinted there in indelible characters, to be the foundation and\nguide of all their acquired knowledge and future reasonings? This would\nbe to make nature take pains to no purpose; or at least to write very\nill; since its characters could not be read by those eyes which saw\nother things very well: and those are very ill supposed the clearest\nparts of truth, and the foundations of all our knowledge, which are not\nfirst known, and without which the undoubted knowledge of several other\nthings may be had. The child certainly knows, that the nurse that feeds\nit is neither the cat it plays with, nor the blackmoor it is afraid of:\nthat the wormseed or mustard it refuses, is not the apple or sugar it\ncries for: this it is certainly and undoubtedly assured of: but will\nany one say, it is by virtue of this principle, \u201cThat it is impossible\nfor the same thing to be and not to be,\u201d that it so firmly assents to\nthese and other parts of its knowledge? Or that the child has any\nnotion or apprehension of that proposition at an age, wherein yet, it\nis plain, it knows a great many other truths? He that will say,\nchildren join in these general abstract speculations with their\nsucking-bottles and their rattles, may perhaps, with justice, be\nthought to have more passion and zeal for his opinion, but less\nsincerity and truth, than one of that age.\n\n26. And so not innate.\n\nThough therefore there be several general propositions that meet with\nconstant and ready assent, as soon as proposed to men grown up, who\nhave attained the use of more general and abstract ideas, and names\nstanding for them; yet they not being to be found in those of tender\nyears, who nevertheless know other things, they cannot pretend to\nuniversal assent of intelligent persons, and so by no means can be\nsupposed innate;\u2014it being impossible that any truth which is innate (if\nthere were any such) should be unknown, at least to any one who knows\nanything else. Since, if they are innate truths, they must be innate\nthoughts: there being nothing a truth in the mind that it has never\nthought on. Whereby it is evident, if there be any innate truths, they\nmust necessarily be the first of any thought on; the first that appear.\n\n27. Not innate, because they appear least, where what is innate shows\nitself clearest.\n\nThat the general maxims we are discoursing of are not known to\nchildren, idiots, and a great part of mankind, we have already\nsufficiently proved: whereby it is evident they have not an universal\nassent, nor are general impressions. But there is this further argument\nin it against their being innate: that these characters, if they were\nnative and original impressions, should appear fairest and clearest in\nthose persons in whom yet we find no footsteps of them; and it is, in\nmy opinion, a strong presumption that they are not innate, since they\nare least known to those in whom, if they were innate, they must needs\nexert themselves with most force and vigour. For children, idiots,\nsavages, and illiterate people, being of all others the least corrupted\nby custom, or borrowed opinions; learning and education having not cast\ntheir native thoughts into new moulds; nor by superinducing foreign and\nstudied doctrines, confounded those fair characters nature had written\nthere; one might reasonably imagine that in THEIR minds these innate\nnotions should lie open fairly to every one\u2019s view, as it is certain\nthe thoughts of children do. It might very well be expected that these\nprinciples should be perfectly known to naturals; which being stamped\nimmediately on the soul, (as these men suppose,) can have no dependence\non the constitution or organs of the body, the only confessed\ndifference between them and others. One would think, according to these\nmen\u2019s principles, that all these native beams of light (were there any\nsuch) should, in those who have no reserves, no arts of concealment,\nshine out in their full lustre, and leave us in no more doubt of their\nbeing there, than we are of their love of pleasure and abhorrence of\npain. But alas, amongst children, idiots, savages, and the grossly\nilliterate, what general maxims are to be found? what universal\nprinciples of knowledge? Their notions are few and narrow, borrowed\nonly from those objects they have had most to do with, and which have\nmade upon their senses the frequentest and strongest impressions. A\nchild knows his nurse and his cradle, and by degrees the playthings of\na little more advanced age; and a young savage has, perhaps, his head\nfilled with love and hunting, according to the fashion of his tribe.\nBut he that from a child untaught, or a wild inhabitant of the woods,\nwill expect these abstract maxims and reputed principles of science,\nwill, I fear find himself mistaken. Such kind of general propositions\nare seldom mentioned in the huts of Indians: much less are they to be\nfound in the thoughts of children, or any impressions of them on the\nminds of naturals. They are the language and business of the schools\nand academies of learned nations accustomed to that sort of\nconversation or learning, where disputes are frequent; these maxims\nbeing suited to artificial argumentation and useful for conviction, but\nnot much conducing to the discovery of truth or advancement of\nknowledge. But of their small use for the improvement of knowledge I\nshall have occasion to speak more at large, l.4, c. 7.\n\n28. Recapitulation.\n\nI know not how absurd this may seem to the masters of demonstration.\nAnd probably it will hardly go down with anybody at first hearing. I\nmust therefore beg a little truce with prejudice, and the forbearance\nof censure, till I have been heard out in the sequel of this Discourse,\nbeing very willing to submit to better judgments. And since I\nimpartially search after truth, I shall not be sorry to be convinced,\nthat I have been too fond of my own notions; which I confess we are all\napt to be, when application and study have warmed our heads with them.\n\nUpon the whole matter, I cannot see any ground to think these two\nspeculative Maxims innate: since they are not universally assented to;\nand the assent they so generally find is no other than what several\npropositions, not allowed to be innate, equally partake in with them:\nand since the assent that is given them is produced another way, and\ncomes not from natural inscription, as I doubt not but to make appear\nin the following Discourse. And if THESE \u201cfirst principles\u201d of\nknowledge and science are found not to be innate, no OTHER speculative\nmaxims can (I suppose), with better right pretend to be so.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\nNO INNATE PRACTICAL PRINCIPLES\n\n\n1. No moral Principles so clear and so generally received as the\nforementioned speculative Maxims.\n\nIf those speculative Maxims, whereof we discoursed in the foregoing\nchapter, have not an actual universal assent from all mankind, as we\nthere proved, it is much more visible concerning PRACTICAL Principles,\nthat they come short of an universal reception: and I think it will be\nhard to instance any one moral rule which can pretend to so general and\nready an assent as, \u201cWhat is, is\u201d; or to be so manifest a truth as\nthis, that \u201cIt is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be.\u201d\nWhereby it is evident that they are further removed from a title to be\ninnate; and the doubt of their being native impressions on the mind is\nstronger against those moral principles than the other. Not that it\nbrings their truth at all in question. They are equally true, though\nnot equally evident. Those speculative maxims carry their own evidence\nwith them: but moral principles require reasoning and discourse, and\nsome exercise of the mind, to discover the certainty of their truth.\nThey lie not open as natural characters engraved on the mind; which, if\nany such were, they must needs be visible by themselves, and by their\nown light be certain and known to everybody. But this is no derogation\nto their truth and certainty; no more than it is to the truth or\ncertainty of the three angles of a triangle being equal to two right\nones because it is not so evident as \u201cthe whole is bigger than a part,\u201d\nnor so apt to be assented to at first hearing. It may suffice that\nthese moral rules are capable of demonstration: and therefore it is our\nown faults if we come not to a certain knowledge of them. But the\nignorance wherein many men are of them, and the slowness of assent\nwherewith others receive them, are manifest proofs that they are not\ninnate, and such as offer themselves to their view without searching.\n\n2. Faith and Justice not owned as Principles by all Men.\n\nWhether there be any such moral principles, wherein all men do agree, I\nappeal to any who have been but moderately conversant in the history of\nmankind, and looked abroad beyond the smoke of their own chimneys.\nWhere is that practical truth that is universally received, without\ndoubt or question, as it must be if innate? JUSTICE, and keeping of\ncontracts, is that which most men seem to agree in. This is a principle\nwhich is thought to extend itself to the dens of thieves, and the\nconfederacies of the greatest villains; and they who have gone furthest\ntowards the putting off of humanity itself, keep faith and rules of\njustice one with another. I grant that outlaws themselves do this one\namongst another: but it is without receiving these as the innate laws\nof nature. They practise them as rules of convenience within their own\ncommunities: but it is impossible to conceive that he embraces justice\nas a practical principle who acts fairly with his fellow-highwayman,\nand at the same time plunders or kills the next honest man he meets\nwith. Justice and truth are the common ties of society; and therefore\neven outlaws and robbers, who break with all the world besides, must\nkeep faith and rules of equity amongst themselves; or else they cannot\nhold together. But will any one say, that those that live by fraud or\nrapine have innate principles of truth and justice which they allow and\nassent to?\n\n3. Objection: though Men deny them in their Practice, yet they admit\nthem in their Thoughts answered.\n\nPerhaps it will be urged, that the tacit assent of their minds agrees\nto what their practice contradicts. I answer, first, I have always\nthought the actions of men the best interpreters of their thoughts.\nBut, since it is certain that most men\u2019s practices, and some men\u2019s open\nprofessions, have either questioned or denied these principles, it is\nimpossible to establish an universal consent, (though we should look\nfor it only amongst grown men,) without which it is impossible to\nconclude them innate. Secondly, it is very strange and unreasonable to\nsuppose innate practical principles, that terminate only in\ncontemplation. Practical principles, derived from nature, are there for\noperation, and must produce conformity of action, not barely\nspeculative assent to their truth, or else they are in vain\ndistinguished from speculative maxims. Nature, I confess, has put into\nman a desire of happiness and an aversion to misery: these indeed are\ninnate practical principles which (as practical principles ought) DO\ncontinue constantly to operate and influence all our actions without\nceasing: these may be observed in all persons and all ages, steady and\nuniversal; but these are INCLINATIONS OF THE APPETITE to good, not\nimpressions of truth on the understanding. I deny not that there are\nnatural tendencies imprinted on the minds of men; and that from the\nvery first instances of sense and perception, there are some things\nthat are grateful and others unwelcome to them; some things that they\nincline to and others that they fly: but this makes nothing for innate\ncharacters on the mind, which are to be the principles of knowledge\nregulating our practice. Such natural impressions on the understanding\nare so far from being confirmed hereby, that this is an argument\nagainst them; since, if there were certain characters imprinted by\nnature on the understanding, as the principles of knowledge, we could\nnot but perceive them constantly operate in us and influence our\nknowledge, as we do those others on the will and appetite; which never\ncease to be the constant springs and motives of all our actions, to\nwhich we perpetually feel them strongly impelling us.\n\n4. Moral Rules need a Proof, _ergo_ not innate.\n\nAnother reason that makes me doubt of any innate practical principles\nis, that I think _there cannot any one moral Rule be propos\u2019d whereof a\nMan may not justly demand a Reason:_ which would be perfectly\nridiculous and absurd if they were innate; or so much as self-evident,\nwhich every innate principle must needs be, and not need any proof to\nascertain its truth, nor want any reason to gain it approbation. He\nwould be thought void of common sense who asked on the one side, or on\nthe other side went to give a reason WHY \u201cit is impossible for the same\nthing to be and not to be.\u201d It carries its own light and evidence with\nit, and needs no other proof: he that understands the terms assents to\nit for its own sake or else nothing will ever be able to prevail with\nhim to do it. But should that most unshaken rule of morality and\nfoundation of all social virtue, \u201cThat one should do as he would be\ndone unto,\u201d be proposed to one who never heard of it before, but yet is\nof capacity to understand its meaning; might he not without any\nabsurdity ask a reason why? And were not he that proposed it bound to\nmake out the truth and reasonableness of it to him? Which plainly shows\nit not to be innate; for if it were it could neither want nor receive\nany proof; but must needs (at least as soon as heard and understood) be\nreceived and assented to as an unquestionable truth, which a man can by\nno means doubt of. So that the truth of all these moral rules plainly\ndepends upon some other antecedent to them, and from which they must be\ndeduced; which could not be if either they were innate or so much as\nself-evident.\n\n5. Instance in keeping Compacts\n\nThat men should keep their compacts is certainly a great and undeniable\nrule in morality. But yet, if a Christian, who has the view of\nhappiness and misery in another life, be asked why a man must keep his\nword, he will give this as a reason:\u2014Because God, who has the power of\neternal life and death, requires it of us. But if a Hobbist be asked\nwhy? he will answer:\u2014Because the public requires it, and the Leviathan\nwill punish you if you do not. And if one of the old philosophers had\nbeen asked, he would have answered:\u2014Because it was dishonest, below the\ndignity of a man, and opposite to virtue, the highest perfection of\nhuman nature, to do otherwise.\n\n6. Virtue generally approved not because innate, but because\nprofitable.\n\nHence naturally flows the great variety of opinions concerning moral\nrules which are to be found among men, according to the different sorts\nof happiness they have a prospect of, or propose to themselves; which\ncould not be if practical principles were innate, and imprinted in our\nminds immediately by the hand of God. I grant the existence of God is\nso many ways manifest, and the obedience we owe him so congruous to the\nlight of reason, that a great part of mankind give testimony to the law\nof nature: but yet I think it must be allowed that several moral rules\nmay receive from mankind a very general approbation, without either\nknowing or admitting the true ground of morality; which can only be the\nwill and law of a God, who sees men in the dark, has in his hand\nrewards and punishments, and power enough to call to account the\nproudest offender. For, God having, by an inseparable connexion, joined\nvirtue and public happiness together, and made the practice thereof\nnecessary to the preservation of society, and visibly beneficial to all\nwith whom the virtuous man has to do; it is no wonder that every one\nshould not only allow, but recommend and magnify those rules to others,\nfrom whose observance of them he is sure to reap advantage to himself.\nHe may, out of interest as well as conviction, cry up that for sacred,\nwhich, if once trampled on and profaned, he himself cannot be safe nor\nsecure. This, though it takes nothing from the moral and eternal\nobligation which these rules evidently have, yet it shows that the\noutward acknowledgment men pay to them in their words proves not that\nthey are innate principles: nay, it proves not so much as that men\nassent to them inwardly in their own minds, as the inviolable rules of\ntheir own practice; since we find that self-interest, and the\nconveniences of this life, make many men own an outward profession and\napprobation of them, whose actions sufficiently prove that they very\nlittle consider the Lawgiver that prescribed these rules; nor the hell\nthat he has ordained for the punishment of those that transgress them.\n\n7. Men\u2019s actions convince us, that the Rule of Virtue is not their\ninternal Principle.\n\nFor, if we will not in civility allow too much sincerity to the\nprofessions of most men, but think their actions to be the interpreters\nof their thoughts, we shall find that they have no such internal\nveneration for these rules, nor so full a persuasion of their certainty\nand obligation. The great principle of morality, \u2018To do as one would be\ndone to,\u2019 is more commended than practised. But the breach of this rule\ncannot be a greater vice, than to teach others, that it is no moral\nrule, nor obligatory, would be thought madness, and contrary to that\ninterest men sacrifice to, when they break it themselves. Perhaps\nCONSCIENCE will be urged as checking us for such breaches, and so the\ninternal obligation and establishment of the rule be preserved.\n\n8. Conscience no Proof of any innate Moral Rule.\n\nTo which I answer, that I doubt not but, without being written on their\nhearts, many men may, by the same way that they come to the knowledge\nof other things, come to assent to several moral rules, and be\nconvinced of their obligation. Others also may come to be of the same\nmind, from their education, company, and customs of their country;\nwhich persuasion, however got, will serve to set conscience on work;\nwhich is nothing else but our own opinion or judgment of the moral\nrectitude or gravity of our own actions; and if conscience be a proof\nof innate principles, contraries may be innate principles; since some\nmen with the same bent of conscience prosecute what others avoid.\n\n9. Instances of Enormities practised without Remorse.\n\nBut I cannot see how any men should ever transgress those moral rules,\nwith confidence and serenity, were they innate, and stamped upon their\nminds. View but an army at the sacking of a town, and see what\nobservation or sense of moral principles, or what touch of conscience\nfor all the outrages they do. Robberies, murders, rapes, are the sports\nof men set at liberty from punishment and censure. Have there not been\nwhole nations, and those of the most civilized people, amongst whom the\nexposing their children, and leaving them in the fields to perish by\nwant or wild beasts has been the practice; as little condemned or\nscrupled as the begetting them? Do they not still, in some countries,\nput them into the same graves with their mothers, if they die in\nchildbirth; or despatch them, if a pretended astrologer declares them\nto have unhappy stars? And are there not places where, at a certain\nage, they kill or expose their parents, without any remorse at all? In\na part of Asia, the sick, when their case comes to be thought\ndesperate, are carried out and laid on the earth before they are dead;\nand left there, exposed to wind and weather, to perish without\nassistance or pity. It is familiar among the Mingrelians, a people\nprofessing Christianity, to bury their children alive without scruple.\nThere are places where they eat their own children. The Caribbees were\nwont to geld their children, on purpose to fat and eat them. And\nGarcilasso de la Vega tells us of a people in Peru which were wont to\nfat and eat the children they got on their female captives, whom they\nkept as concubines for that purpose, and when they were past breeding,\nthe mothers themselves were killed too and eaten. The virtues whereby\nthe Tououpinambos believed they merited paradise, were revenge, and\neating abundance of their enemies. They have not so much as a name for\nGod, and have no religion, no worship. The saints who are canonized\namongst the Turks, lead lives which one cannot with modesty relate. A\nremarkable passage to this purpose, out of the voyage of Baumgarten,\nwhich is a book not every day to be met with, I shall set down at\nlarge, in the language it is published in.\n\nIbi (sc. prope Belbes in Aegypto) vidimus sanctum unum Saracenicum\ninter arenarum cumulos, ita ut ex utero matris prodiit nudum sedentem.\nMos est, ut didicimus, Mahometistis, ut eos, qui amentes et sine\nratione sunt, pro sanctis colant et venerentur. Insuper et eos, qui cum\ndiu vitam egerint inquinatissimam, voluntariam demum poenitentiam et\npaupertatem, sanctitate venerandos deputant. Ejusmodi vero genus\nhominum libertatem quandam effrenem habent, domos quos volunt intrandi,\nedendi, bibendi, et quod majus est, concumbendi; ex quo concubitu, si\nproles secuta fuerit, sancta similiter habetur. His ergo hominibus dum\nvivunt, magnos exhibent honores; mortuis vero vel templa vel monumenta\nextruunt amplissima, eosque contingere ac sepelire maximae fortunae\nducunt loco. Audivimus haec dicta et dicenda per interpretem a Mucrelo\nnostro. Insuper sanctum ilium, quern eo loco vidimus, publicitus\napprime commendari, eum esse hominem sanctum, divinum ac integritate\npraecipuum; eo quod, nec faminarum unquam esset, nec puerorum, sed\ntantummodo asellarum concubitor atque mularum. (Peregr. Baumgarten, 1.\nii. c. i. p. 73.)\n\nWhere then are those innate principles of justice, piety, gratitude,\nequity, chastity? Or where is that universal consent that assures us\nthere are such inbred rules? Murders in duels, when fashion has made\nthem honourable, are committed without remorse of conscience: nay, in\nmany places innocence in this case is the greatest ignominy. And if we\nlook abroad to take a view of men as they are, we shall find that they\nhave remorse, in one place, for doing or omitting that which others, in\nanother place, think they merit by.\n\n10. Men have contrary practical Principles.\n\nHe that will carefully peruse the history of mankind, and look abroad\ninto the several tribes of men, and with indifferency survey their\nactions, will be able to satisfy himself, that there is scarce that\nprinciple of morality to be named, or, rule of virtue to be thought on,\n(those only excepted that are absolutely necessary to hold society\ntogether, which commonly too are neglected betwixt distinct societies,)\nwhich is not, somewhere or other, slighted and condemned by the general\nfashion of whole societies of men, governed by practical opinions and\nrules of living quite opposite to others.\n\n11. Whole Nations reject several Moral Rules.\n\nHere perhaps it will be objected, that it is no argument that the rule\nis not known, because it is broken. I grant the objection good where\nmen, though they transgress, yet disown not the law; where fear of\nshame, censure, or punishment, carries the mark of some awe it has upon\nthem. But it is impossible to conceive that a whole nation of men\nshould all publicly reject and renounce what every one of them\ncertainly and infallibly knew to be a law; for so they must who have it\nnaturally imprinted on their minds. It is possible men may sometimes\nown rules of morality which in their private thoughts they do not\nbelieve to be true, only to keep themselves in reputation and esteem\namongst those who are persuaded of their obligation. But it is not to\nbe imagined that a whole society of men should publicly and professedly\ndisown and cast off a rule which they could not in their own minds but\nbe infallibly certain was a law; nor be ignorant that all men they\nshould have to do with knew it to be such: and therefore must every one\nof them apprehend from others all the contempt and abhorrence due to\none who professes himself void of humanity: and one who, confounding\nthe known and natural measures of right and wrong, cannot but be looked\non as the professed enemy of their peace and happiness. Whatever\npractical principle is innate, cannot but be known to every one to be\njust and good. It is therefore little less than a contradiction to\nsuppose, that whole nations of men should, both in their professions\nand practice, unanimously and universally give the lie to what, by the\nmost invincible evidence, every one of them knew to be true, right, and\ngood. This is enough to satisfy us that no practical rule which is\nanywhere universally, and with public approbation or allowance,\ntransgressed, can be supposed innate.\u2014But I have something further to\nadd in answer to this objection.\n\n12. The generally allowed breach of a rule proof that it is not innate.\n\nThe breaking of a rule, say you, is no argument that it is unknown. I\ngrant it: but the GENERALLY ALLOWED breach of it anywhere, I say, is a\nproof that it is not innate. For example: let us take any of these\nrules, which, being the most obvious deductions of human reason, and\nconformable to the natural inclination of the greatest part of men,\nfewest people have had the impudence to deny or inconsideration to\ndoubt of. If any can be thought to be naturally imprinted, none, I\nthink, can have a fairer pretence to be innate than this: \u201cParents,\npreserve and cherish your children.\u201d When, therefore, you say that this\nis an innate rule, what do you mean? Either that it is an innate\nprinciple which upon all occasions excites and directs the actions of\nall men; or else, that it is a truth which all men have imprinted on\ntheir minds, and which therefore they know and assent to. But in\nneither of these senses is it innate. FIRST, that it is not a principle\nwhich influences all men\u2019s actions, is what I have proved by the\nexamples before cited: nor need we seek so far as the Mingrelia or Peru\nto find instances of such as neglect, abuse, nay, and destroy their\nchildren; or look on it only as the more than brutality of some savage\nand barbarous nations, when we remember that it was a familiar and\nuncondemned practice amongst the Greeks and Romans to expose, without\npity or remorse, their innocent infants. SECONDLY, that it is an innate\ntruth, known to all men, is also false. For, \u201cParents preserve your\nchildren,\u201d is so far from an innate truth, that it is no truth at all:\nit being a command, and not a proposition, and so not capable of truth\nor falsehood. To make it capable of being assented to as true, it must\nbe reduced to some such proposition as this: \u201cIt is the duty of parents\nto preserve their children.\u201d But what duty is, cannot be understood\nwithout a law; nor a law be known or supposed without a lawmaker, or\nwithout reward and punishment; so that it is impossible that this, or\nany other, practical principle should be innate, i.e. be imprinted on\nthe mind as a duty, without supposing the ideas of God, of law, of\nobligation, of punishment, of a life after this, innate: for that\npunishment follows not in this life the breach of this rule, and\nconsequently that it has not the force of a law in countries where the\ngenerally allowed practice runs counter to it, is in itself evident.\nBut these ideas (which must be all of them innate, if anything as a\nduty be so) are so far from being innate, that it is not every studious\nor thinking man, much less every one that is born, in whom they are to\nbe found clear and distinct; and that one of them, which of all others\nseems most likely to be innate, is not so, (I mean the idea of God,) I\nthink, in the next chapter, will appear very evident to any considering\nman.\n\n13. If men can be ignorant of what is innate, certainty is not\ndescribed by innate principles.\n\nFrom what has been said, I think we may safely conclude that whatever\npractical rule is in any place generally and with allowance broken,\ncannot be supposed innate; it being impossible that men should, without\nshame or fear, confidently and serenely, break a rule which they could\nnot but evidently know that God had set up, and would certainly punish\nthe breach of, (which they must, if it were innate,) to a degree to\nmake it a very ill bargain to the transgressor. Without such a\nknowledge as this, a man can never be certain that anything is his\nduty. Ignorance or doubt of the law, hopes to escape the knowledge or\npower of the law-maker, or the like, may make men give way to a present\nappetite; but let any one see the fault, and the rod by it, and with\nthe transgression, a fire ready to punish it; a pleasure tempting, and\nthe hand of the Almighty visibly held up and prepared to take\nvengeance, (for this must be the case where any duty is imprinted on\nthe mind,) and then tell me whether it be possible for people with such\na prospect, such a certain knowledge as this, wantonly, and without\nscruple, to offend against a law which they carry about them in\nindelible characters, and that stares them in the face whilst they are\nbreaking it? Whether men, at the same time that they feel in themselves\nthe imprinted edicts of an Omnipotent Law-maker, can, with assurance\nand gaiety, slight and trample underfoot his most sacred injunctions?\nAnd lastly, whether it be possible that whilst a man thus openly bids\ndefiance to this innate law and supreme Lawgiver, all the bystanders,\nyea, even the governors and rulers of the people, full of the same\nsense both of the law and Law-maker, should silently connive, without\ntestifying their dislike or laying the least blame on it? Principles of\nactions indeed there are lodged in men\u2019s appetites; but these are so\nfar from being innate moral principles, that if they were left to their\nfull swing they would carry men to the overturning of all morality.\nMoral laws are set as a curb and restraint to these exorbitant desires,\nwhich they cannot be but by rewards and punishments that will\noverbalance the satisfaction any one shall propose to himself in the\nbreach of the law. If, therefore, anything be imprinted on the minds of\nall men as a law, all men must have a certain and unavoidable knowledge\nthat certain and unavoidable punishment will attend the breach of it.\nFor if men can be ignorant or doubtful of what is innate, innate\nprinciples are insisted on, and urged to no purpose; truth and\ncertainty (the things pretended) are not at all secured by them; but\nmen are in the same uncertain floating estate with as without them. An\nevident indubitable knowledge of unavoidable punishment, great enough\nto make the transgression very uneligible, must accompany an innate\nlaw; unless with an innate law they can suppose an innate Gospel too. I\nwould not here be mistaken, as if, because I deny an innate law I\nthought there were none but positive laws. There is a great deal of\ndifference between an innate law, and a law of nature between something\nimprinted on our minds in their very original, and something that we,\nbeing ignorant of, may attain to the knowledge of, by the use and due\napplication of our natural faculties. And I think they equally forsake\nthe truth who, running into contrary extremes, either affirm an innate\nlaw, or deny that there is a law knowable by the light of nature, i.e.\nwithout the help of positive revelation.\n\n14. Those who maintain innate practical Principles tell us not what\nthey are.\n\nThe difference there is amongst men in their practical principles is so\nevident that I think I need say no more to evince, that it will be\nimpossible to find any innate moral rules by this mark of general\nassent; and it is enough to make one suspect that the supposition of\nsuch innate principles is but an opinion taken up at pleasure; since\nthose who talk so confidently of them are so sparing to tell us WHICH\nTHEY ARE. This might with justice be expected from those men who lay\nstress upon this opinion; and it gives occasion to distrust either\ntheir knowledge or charity, who, declaring that God has imprinted on\nthe minds of men the foundations of knowledge and the rules of living,\nare yet so little favourable to the information of their neighbours, or\nthe quiet of mankind, as not to point out to them which they are, in\nthe variety men are distracted with. But, in truth, were there any such\ninnate principles there would be no need to teach them. Did men find\nsuch innate propositions stamped on their minds, they would easily be\nable to distinguish them from other truths that they afterwards learned\nand deduced from them; and there would be nothing more easy than to\nknow what, and how many, they were. There could be no more doubt about\ntheir number than there is about the number of our fingers; and it is\nlike then every system would be ready to give them us by tale. But\nsince nobody, that I know, has ventured yet to give a catalogue of\nthem, they cannot blame those who doubt of these innate principles;\nsince even they who require men to believe that there are such innate\npropositions, do not tell us what they are. It is easy to foresee, that\nif different men of different sects should go about to give us a list\nof those innate practical principles, they would set down only such as\nsuited their distinct hypotheses, and were fit to support the doctrines\nof their particular schools or churches; a plain evidence that there\nare no such innate truths. Nay, a great part of men are so far from\nfinding any such innate moral principles in themselves, that, by\ndenying freedom to mankind, and thereby making men no other than bare\nmachines, they take away not only innate, but all moral rules\nwhatsoever, and leave not a possibility to believe any such, to those\nwho cannot conceive how anything can be capable of a law that is not a\nfree agent. And upon that ground they must necessarily reject all\nprinciples of virtue, who cannot put MORALITY and MECHANISM together,\nwhich are not very easy to be reconciled or made consistent.\n\n15. Lord Herbert\u2019s innate Principles examined.\n\nWhen I had written this, being informed that my Lord Herbert had, in\nhis book De Veritate, assigned these innate principles, I presently\nconsulted him, hoping to find in a man of so great parts, something\nthat might satisfy me in this point, and put an end to my inquiry. In\nhis chapter De Instinctu Naturali, I met with these six marks of his\nNotitice Communes:\u20141. Prioritas. 2. Independentia. 3. Universalitas. 4.\nCertitudo. 5. Necessitas, i. e. as he explains it, faciunt ad hominis\nconservationem. 6. Modus conformationis, i.e. Assensus nulla\ninterposita mora. And at the latter end of his little treatise De\nReligione Laici, he says this of these innate principles: Adeo ut non\nuniuscujusvis religionis confinio arctentur quae ubique vigent\nveritates. Sunt enim in ipsa mente caelitus descriptae, nullisque\ntraditionibus, sive scriptis, sive non scriptis, obnoxiae, p.3 And\nVeritates nostrae catholicae, quae tanquam indubia Dei emata in foro\ninteriori descriptae.\n\nThus, having given the marks of the innate principles or common\nnotions, and asserted their being imprinted on the minds of men by the\nhand of God, he proceeds to set them down, and they are these:\u20141. Esse\naliquod supremum numen. 2. Numen illud coli debere. 3. Virtutem cum\npietate conjunctam optimum esse rationem cultus divini. 4.\nResipiscendum esse a peccatis. 5. Dari praemium vel paenam post hanc\nvitam transactam. Though I allow these to be clear truths, and such as,\nif rightly explained, a rational creature can hardly avoid giving his\nassent to, yet I think he is far from proving them innate impressions\nin foro interiori descriptae. For I must take leave to observe:\u2014\n\n16. These five either not all, or more than all, if there are any.\n\nFirst, that these five propositions are either not all, or more than\nall, those common notions written on our minds by the finger of God; if\nit were reasonable to believe any at all to be so written. Since there\nare other propositions which, even by his own rules, have as just a\npretence to such an original, and may be as well admitted for innate\nprinciples, as at least some of these five he enumerates, viz. \u2018Do as\nthou wouldst be done unto.\u2019 And perhaps some hundreds of others, when\nwell considered.\n\n17. The supposed marks wanting.\n\nSecondly, that all his marks are not to be found in each of his five\npropositions, viz. his first, second, and third marks agree perfectly\nto neither of them; and the first, second, third, fourth, and sixth\nmarks agree but ill to his third, fourth, and fifth propositions. For,\nbesides that we are assured from history of many men, nay whole\nnations, who doubt or disbelieve some or all of them, I cannot see how\nthe third, viz. \u201cThat virtue joined with piety is the best worship of\nGod,\u201d can be an innate principle, when the name or sound virtue, is so\nhard to be understood; liable to so much uncertainty in its\nsignification; and the thing it stands for so much contended about and\ndifficult to be known. And therefore this cannot be but a very\nuncertain rule of human practice, and serve but very little to the\nconduct of our lives, and is therefore very unfit to be assigned as an\ninnate practical principle.\n\n18. Of little use if they were innate.\n\nFor let us consider this proposition as to its meaning, (for it is the\nsense, and not sound, that is and must be the principle or common\nnotion,) viz. \u201cVirtue is the best worship of God,\u201d i.e. is most\nacceptable to him; which, if virtue be taken, as most commonly it is,\nfor those actions which, according to the different opinions of several\ncountries, are accounted laudable, will be a proposition so far from\nbeing certain, that it will not be true. If virtue be taken for actions\nconformable to God\u2019s will, or to the rule prescribed by God\u2014which is\nthe true and only measure of virtue when virtue is used to signify what\nis in its own nature right and good\u2014then this proposition, \u201cThat virtue\nis the best worship of God,\u201d will be most true and certain, but of very\nlittle use in human life: since it will amount to no more but this,\nviz. \u201cThat God is pleased with the doing of what he commands\u201d;\u2014which a\nman may certainly know to be true, without knowing what it is that God\ndoth command; and so be as far from any rule or principle of his\nactions as he was before. And I think very few will take a proposition\nwhich amounts to no more than this, viz. \u201cThat God is pleased with the\ndoing of what he himself commands,\u201d for an innate moral principle\nwritten on the minds of all men, (however true and certain it may be,)\nsince it teaches so little. Whosoever does so will have reason to think\nhundreds of propositions innate principles; since there are many which\nhave as good a title as this to be received for such, which nobody yet\never put into that rank of innate principles.\n\n19. Scarce possible that God should engrave principles in words of\nuncertain meaning.\n\nNor is the fourth proposition (viz. \u201cMen must repent of their sins\u201d)\nmuch more instructive, till what those actions are that are meant by\nsins be set down. For the word peccata, or sins, being put, as it\nusually is, to signify in general ill actions that will draw punishment\nupon the doers, what great principle of morality can that be to tell us\nwe should be sorry, and cease to do that which will bring mischief upon\nus; without knowing what those particular actions are that will do so?\nIndeed this is a very true proposition, and fit to be inculcated on and\nreceived by those who are supposed to have been taught WHAT actions in\nall kinds ARE sins: but neither this nor the former can be imagined to\nbe innate principles; nor to be of any use if they were innate, unless\nthe particular measures and bounds of all virtues and vices were\nengraven in men\u2019s minds, and were innate principles also, which I think\nis very much to be doubted. And therefore, I imagine, it will scarcely\nseem possible that God should engrave principles in men\u2019s minds, in\nwords of uncertain signification, such as VIRTUES and SINS, which\namongst different men stand for different things: nay, it cannot be\nsupposed to be in words at all, which, being in most of these\nprinciples very general names, cannot be understood but by knowing the\nparticulars comprehended under them. And in the practical instances,\nthe measures must be taken from the knowledge of the actions\nthemselves, and the rules of them,\u2014abstracted from words, and\nantecedent to the knowledge of names; which rules a man must know, what\nlanguage soever he chance to learn, whether English or Japan, or if he\nshould learn no language at all, or never should understand the use of\nwords, as happens in the case of dumb and deaf men. When it shall be\nmade out that men ignorant of words, or untaught by the laws and\ncustoms of their country, know that it is part of the worship of God\nnot to kill another man; not to know more women than one; not to\nprocure abortion; not to expose their children; not to take from\nanother what is his, though we want it ourselves, but on the contrary,\nrelieve and supply his wants; and whenever we have done the contrary we\nought to repent, be sorry, and resolve to do so no more;\u2014when I say,\nall men shall be proved actually to know and allow all these and a\nthousand other such rules, all of which come under these two general\nwords made use of above, viz. virtutes et peccata virtues and sins,\nthere will be more reason for admitting these and the like, for common\nnotions and practical principles. Yet, after all, universal consent\n(were there any in moral principles) to truths, the knowledge whereof\nmay be attained otherwise, would scarce prove them to be innate; which\nis all I contend for.\n\n20. Objection, Innate Principles may be corrupted, answered.\n\nNor will it be of much moment here to offer that very ready but not\nvery material answer, viz. that the innate principles of morality may,\nby education, and custom, and the general opinion of those amongst whom\nwe converse, be darkened, and at last quite worn out of the minds of\nmen. Which assertion of theirs, if true, quite takes away the argument\nof universal consent, by which this opinion of innate principles is\nendeavoured to be proved; unless those men will think it reasonable\nthat their private persuasions, or that of their party, should pass for\nuniversal consent;\u2014a thing not unfrequently done, when men, presuming\nthemselves to be the only masters of right reason, cast by the votes\nand opinions of the rest of mankind as not worthy the reckoning. And\nthen their argument stands thus:\u2014\u201cThe principles which all mankind\nallow for true, are innate; those that men of right reason admit, are\nthe principles allowed by all mankind; we, and those of our mind, are\nmen of reason; therefore, we agreeing, our principles are\ninnate\u201d;\u2014which is a very pretty way of arguing, and a short cut to\ninfallibility. For otherwise it will be very hard to understand how\nthere be some principles which all men do acknowledge and agree in; and\nyet there are none of those principles which are not, by depraved\ncustom and ill education, blotted out of the minds of many men: which\nis to say, that all men admit, but yet many men do deny and dissent\nfrom them. And indeed the supposition of SUCH first principles will\nserve us to very little purpose; and we shall be as much at a loss with\nas without them, if they may, by any human power\u2014such as the will of\nour teachers, or opinions of our companions\u2014be altered or lost in us:\nand notwithstanding all this boast of first principles and innate\nlight, we shall be as much in the dark and uncertainty as if there were\nno such thing at all: it being all one to have no rule, and one that\nwill warp any way; or amongst various and contrary rules, not to know\nwhich is the right. But concerning innate principles, I desire these\nmen to say, whether they can or cannot, by education and custom, be\nblurred and blotted out; if they cannot, we must find them in all\nmankind alike, and they must be clear in everybody; and if they may\nsuffer variation from adventitious notions, we must then find them\nclearest and most perspicuous nearest the fountain, in children and\nilliterate people, who have received least impression from foreign\nopinions. Let them take which side they please, they will certainly\nfind it inconsistent with visible matter of fact and daily observation.\n\n21. Contrary Principles in the World.\n\nI easily grant that there are great numbers of opinions which, by men\nof different countries, educations, and tempers, are received and\nembraced as first and unquestionable principles; many whereof, both for\ntheir absurdity as well as oppositions to one another, it is impossible\nshould be true. But yet all those propositions, how remote soever from\nreason are so sacred somewhere or other, that men even of good\nunderstanding in other matters, will sooner part with their lives, and\nwhatever is dearest to them, than suffer themselves to doubt, or others\nto question, the truth of them.\n\n22. How men commonly come by their Principles.\n\nThis, however strange it may seem, is that which every day\u2019s experience\nconfirms; and will not, perhaps, appear so wonderful, if we consider\nthe ways and steps by which it is brought about; and how really it may\ncome to pass, that doctrines that have been derived from no better\noriginal than the superstition of a nurse, or the authority of an old\nwoman, may, by length of time and consent of neighbours, grow up to the\ndignity of PRINCIPLES in religion or morality. For such, who are\ncareful (as they call it) to principle children well, (and few there be\nwho have not a set of those principles for them, which they believe\nin,) instil into the unwary, and as yet unprejudiced, understanding,\n(for white paper receives any characters,) those doctrines they would\nhave them retain and profess. These being taught them as soon as they\nhave any apprehension; and still as they grow up confirmed to them,\neither by the open profession or tacit consent of all they have to do\nwith; or at least by those of whose wisdom, knowledge, and piety they\nhave an opinion, who never suffer those propositions to be otherwise\nmentioned but as the basis and foundation on which they build their\nreligion and manners, come, by these means, to have the reputation of\nunquestionable, self-evident, and innate truths.\n\n23. Principles supposed innate because we do not remember when we began\nto hold them.\n\nTo which we may add, that when men so instructed are grown up, and\nreflect on their own minds, they cannot find anything more ancient\nthere than those opinions, which were taught them before their memory\nbegan to keep a register of their actions, or date the time when any\nnew thing appeared to them; and therefore make no scruple to conclude,\nthat those propositions of whose knowledge they can find in themselves\nno original, were certainly the impress of God and nature upon their\nminds, and not taught them by any one else. These they entertain and\nsubmit to, as many do to their parents with veneration; not because it\nis natural: nor do children do it where they are not so taught; but\nbecause, having been always so educated, and having no remembrance of\nthe beginning of this respect, they think it is natural.\n\n24. How such principles come to be held.\n\nThis will appear very likely, and almost unavoidable to come to pass,\nif we consider the nature of mankind and the constitution of human\naffairs; wherein most men cannot live without employing their time in\nthe daily labours of their callings; nor be at quiet in their minds\nwithout SOME foundation or principle to rest their thoughts on. There\nis scarcely any one so floating and superficial in his understanding,\nwho hath not some reverenced propositions, which are to him the\nprinciples on which he bottoms his reasonings, and by which he judgeth\nof truth and falsehood, right and wrong; which some, wanting skill and\nleisure, and others the inclination, and some being taught that they\nought not to examine, there are few to be found who are not exposed by\ntheir ignorance, laziness, education, or precipitancy, to TAKE THEM\nUPON TRUST.\n\n25. Further explained.\n\nThis is evidently the case of all children and young folk; and custom,\na greater power than nature, seldom failing to make them worship for\ndivine what she hath inured them to bow their minds and submit their\nunderstandings to, it is no wonder that grown men, either perplexed in\nthe necessary affairs of life, or hot in the pursuit of pleasures,\nshould not seriously sit down to examine their own tenets; especially\nwhen one of their principles is, that principles ought not to be\nquestioned. And had men leisure, parts, and will, who is there almost\nthat dare shake the foundations of all his past thoughts and actions,\nand endure to bring upon himself the shame of having been a long time\nwholly in mistake and error? Who is there hardy enough to contend with\nthe reproach which is everywhere prepared for those who dare venture to\ndissent from the received opinions of their country or party? And where\nis the man to be found that can patiently prepare himself to bear the\nname of whimsical, sceptical, or atheist; which he is sure to meet\nwith, who does in the least scruple any of the common opinions? And he\nwill be much more afraid to question those principles, when he shall\nthink them, as most men do, the standards set up by God in his mind, to\nbe the rule and touchstone of all other opinions. And what can hinder\nhim from thinking them sacred, when he finds them the earliest of all\nhis own thoughts, and the most reverenced by others?\n\n26. A worship of idols.\n\nIt is easy to imagine how, by these means, it comes to pass that men\nworship the idols that have been set up in their minds; grow fond of\nthe notions they have been long acquainted with there; and stamp the\ncharacters of divinity upon absurdities and errors; become zealous\nvotaries to bulls and monkeys, and contend too, fight, and die in\ndefence of their opinions. _Dum solos credit habendos esse deos, quos\nipse colit_. For, since the reasoning faculties of the soul, which are\nalmost constantly, though not always warily nor wisely employed, would\nnot know how to move, for want of a foundation and footing, in most\nmen, who through laziness or avocation do not, or for want of time, or\ntrue helps, or for other causes, cannot penetrate into the principles\nof knowledge, and trace truth to its fountain and original, it is\nnatural for them, and almost unavoidable, to take up with some borrowed\nprinciples; which being reputed and presumed to be the evident proofs\nof other things, are thought not to need any other proof themselves.\nWhoever shall receive any of these into his mind, and entertain them\nthere with the reverence usually paid to principles, never venturing to\nexamine them, but accustoming himself to believe them, because they are\nto be believed, may take up, from his education and the fashions of his\ncountry, any absurdity for innate principles; and by long poring on the\nsame objects, so dim his sight as to take monsters lodged in his own\nbrain for the images of the Deity, and the workmanship of his hands.\n\n27. Principles must be examined.\n\nBy this progress, how many there are who arrive at principles which\nthey believe innate may be easily observed, in the variety of opposite\nprinciples held and contended for by all sorts and degrees of men. And\nhe that shall deny this to be the method wherein most men proceed to\nthe assurance they have of the truth and evidence of their principles,\nwill perhaps find it a hard matter any other way to account for the\ncontrary tenets, which are firmly believed, confidently asserted, and\nwhich great numbers are ready at any time to seal with their blood.\nAnd, indeed, if it be the privilege of innate principles to be received\nupon their own authority, without examination, I know not what may not\nbe believed, or how any one\u2019s principles can be questioned. If they may\nand ought to be examined and tried, I desire to know how first and\ninnate principles can be tried; or at least it is reasonable to demand\nthe MARKS and CHARACTERS whereby the genuine innate principles may be\ndistinguished from others: that so, amidst the great variety of\npretenders, I may be kept from mistakes in so material a point as this.\nWhen this is done, I shall be ready to embrace such welcome and useful\npropositions; and till then I may with modesty doubt; since I fear\nuniversal consent, which is the only one produced, will scarcely prove\na sufficient mark to direct my choice, and assure me of any innate\nprinciples.\n\nFrom what has been said, I think it past doubt, that there are no\npractical principles wherein all men agree; and therefore none innate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\nOTHER CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING INNATE PRINCIPLES, BOTH SPECULATIVE AND\nPRACTICAL.\n\n\n1. Principles not innate, unless their Ideas be innate\n\nHad those who would persuade us that there are innate principles not\ntaken them together in gross, but considered separately the parts out\nof which those propositions are made, they would not, perhaps, have\nbeen so forward to believe they were innate. Since, if the IDEAS which\nmade up those truths were not, it was impossible that the PROPOSITIONS\nmade up of them should be innate, or our knowledge of them be born with\nus. For, if the ideas be not innate, there was a time when the mind was\nwithout those principles; and then they will not be innate, but be\nderived from some other original. For, where the ideas themselves are\nnot, there can be no knowledge, no assent, no mental or verbal\npropositions about them.\n\n2. Ideas, especially those belonging to Principles, not born with\nchildren\n\nIf we will attentively consider new-born children, we shall have little\nreason to think that they bring many ideas into the world with them.\nFor, bating perhaps some faint ideas of hunger, and thirst, and warmth,\nand some pains, which they may have felt in the womb, there is not the\nleast appearance of any settled ideas at all in them; especially of\nIDEAS ANSWERING THE TERMS WHICH MAKE UP THOSE UNIVERSAL PROPOSITIONS\nTHAT ARE ESTEEMED INNATE PRINCIPLES. One may perceive how, by degrees,\nafterwards, ideas come into their minds; and that they get no more, nor\nother, than what experience, and the observation of things that come in\ntheir way, furnish them with; which might be enough to satisfy us that\nthey are not original characters stamped on the mind.\n\n3. Impossibility and Identity not innate ideas\n\n\u201cIt is impossible for the same thing to be, and not to be,\u201d is\ncertainly (if there be any such) an innate PRINCIPLE. But can any one\nthink, or will any one say, that \u201cimpossibility\u201d and \u201cidentity\u201d are two\ninnate IDEAS? Are they such as all mankind have, and bring into the\nworld with them? And are they those which are the first in children,\nand antecedent to all acquired ones? If they are innate, they must\nneeds be so. Hath a child an idea of impossibility and identity, before\nit has of white or black, sweet or bitter? And is it from the knowledge\nof this principle that it concludes, that wormwood rubbed on the nipple\nhath not the same taste that it used to receive from thence? Is it the\nactual knowledge of IMPOSSIBILE EST IDEM ESSE, ET NON ESSE, that makes\na child distinguish between its mother and a stranger; or that makes it\nfond of the one and flee the other? Or does the mind regulate itself\nand its assent by ideas that it never yet had? Or the understanding\ndraw conclusions from principles which it never yet knew or understood?\nThe names IMPOSSIBILITY and IDENTITY stand for two ideas, so far from\nbeing innate, or born with us, that I think it requires great care and\nattention to form them right in our understandings. They are so far\nfrom being brought into the world with us, so remote from the thoughts\nof infancy and childhood, that I believe, upon examination it will be\nfound that many grown men want them.\n\n4. Identity, an Idea not innate.\n\nIf IDENTITY (to instance that alone) be a native impression, and\nconsequently so clear and obvious to us that we must needs know it even\nfrom our cradles, I would gladly be resolved by any one of seven, or\nseventy years old, whether a man, being a creature consisting of soul\nand body, be the same man when his body is changed? Whether Euphorbus\nand Pythagoras, having had the same soul, were the same men, though\nthey lived several ages asunder? Nay, whether the cock too, which had\nthe same soul, were not the same, with both of them? Whereby, perhaps,\nit will appear that our idea of SAMENESS is not so settled and clear as\nto deserve to be thought innate in us. For if those innate ideas are\nnot clear and distinct, so as to be universally known and naturally\nagreed on, they cannot be subjects of universal and undoubted truths,\nbut will be the unavoidable occasion of perpetual uncertainty. For, I\nsuppose every one\u2019s idea of identity will not be the same that\nPythagoras and thousands of his followers have. And which then shall be\ntrue? Which innate? Or are there two different ideas of identity, both\ninnate?\n\n5. What makes the same man?\n\nNor let any one think that the questions I have here proposed about the\nidentity of man are bare empty speculations; which, if they were, would\nbe enough to show, that there was in the understandings of men no\ninnate idea of identity. He that shall with a little attention reflect\non the resurrection, and consider that divine justice will bring to\njudgment, at the last day, the very same persons, to be happy or\nmiserable in the other, who did well or ill in this life, will find it\nperhaps not easy to resolve with himself, what makes the same man, or\nwherein identity consists; and will not be forward to think he, and\nevery one, even children themselves, have naturally a clear idea of it.\n\n6. Whole and Part not innate ideas.\n\nLet us examine that principle of mathematics, viz. THAT THE WHOLE IS\nBIGGER THAN A PART. This, I take it, is reckoned amongst innate\nprinciples. I am sure it has as good a title as any to be thought so;\nwhich yet nobody can think it to be, when he considers the ideas it\ncomprehends in it, WHOLE and PART, are perfectly relative; but the\npositive ideas to which they properly and immediately belong are\nextension and number, of which alone whole and part are relations. So\nthat if whole and part are innate ideas, extension and number must be\nso too; it being impossible to have an idea of a relation, without\nhaving any at all of the thing to which it belongs, and in which it is\nfounded. Now, whether the minds of men have naturally imprinted on them\nthe ideas of extension and number, I leave to be considered by those\nwho are the patrons of innate principles.\n\n7. Idea of Worship not innate.\n\nThat GOD IS TO BE WORSHIPPED, is, without doubt, as great a truth as\nany that can enter into the mind of man, and deserves the first place\namongst all practical principles. But yet it can by no means be thought\ninnate, unless the ideas of GOD and WORSHIP are innate. That the idea\nthe term worship stands for is not in the understanding of children,\nand a character stamped on the mind in its first original, I think will\nbe easily granted, by any one that considers how few there be amongst\ngrown men who have a clear and distinct notion of it. And, I suppose,\nthere cannot be anything more ridiculous than to say, that children\nhave this practical principle innate, \u201cThat God is to be worshipped,\u201d\nand yet that they know not what that worship of God is, which is their\nduty. But to pass by this.\n\n8. Idea of God not innate.\n\nIf any idea can be imagined innate, the idea of GOD may, of all others,\nfor many reasons, be thought so; since it is hard to conceive how there\nshould be innate moral principles, without an innate idea of a Deity.\nWithout a notion of a law-maker, it is impossible to have a notion of a\nlaw, and an obligation to observe it. Besides the atheists taken notice\nof amongst the ancients, and left branded upon the records of history,\nhath not navigation discovered, in these later ages, whole nations, at\nthe bay of Soldania, in Brazil, and in the Caribbee islands, &c.,\namongst whom there was to be found no notion of a God, no religion?\nNicholaus del Techo, in Literis ex Paraquaria, de Caiguarum\nConversione, has these words: Reperi eam gentem nullum nomen habere\nquod Deum, et hominis animam significet; nulla sacra habet, nulla\nidola.\n\nAnd perhaps, if we should with attention mind the lives and discourses\nof people not so far off, we should have too much reason to fear, that\nmany, in more civilized countries, have no very strong and clear\nimpressions of a Deity upon their minds, and that the complaints of\natheism made from the pulpit are not without reason. And though only\nsome profligate wretches own it too barefacedly now; yet perhaps we\nshould hear more than we do of it from others, did not the fear of the\nmagistrate\u2019s sword, or their neighbour\u2019s censure, tie up people\u2019s\ntongues; which, were the apprehensions of punishment or shame taken\naway, would as openly proclaim their atheism as their lives do.\n\n9. The name of God not universal or obscure in meaning.\n\nBut had all mankind everywhere a notion of a God, (whereof yet history\ntells us the contrary,) it would not from thence follow, that the idea\nof him was innate. For, though no nation were to be found without a\nname, and some few dark notions of him, yet that would not prove them\nto be natural impressions on the mind; no more than the names of fire,\nor the sun, heat, or number, do prove the ideas they stand for to be\ninnate; because the names of those things, and the ideas of them, are\nso universally received and known amongst mankind. Nor, on the\ncontrary, is the want of such a name, or the absence of such a notion\nout of men\u2019s minds, any argument against the being of a God; any more\nthan it would be a proof that there was no loadstone in the world,\nbecause a great part of mankind had neither a notion of any such thing\nnor a name for it; or be any show of argument to prove that there are\nno distinct and various species of angels, or intelligent beings above\nus, because we have no ideas of such distinct species, or names for\nthem. For, men being furnished with words, by the common language of\ntheir own countries, can scarce avoid having some kind of ideas of\nthose things whose names those they converse with have occasion\nfrequently to mention to them. And if they carry with it the notion of\nexcellency, greatness, or something extraordinary; if apprehension and\nconcernment accompany it; if the fear of absolute and irresistible\npower set it on upon the mind,\u2014the idea is likely to sink the deeper,\nand spread the further; especially if it be such an idea as is\nagreeable to the common light of reason, and naturally deducible from\nevery part of our knowledge, as that of a God is. For the visible marks\nof extraordinary wisdom and power appear so plainly in all the works of\nthe creation, that a rational creature, who will but seriously reflect\non them, cannot miss the discovery of a Deity. And the influence that\nthe discovery of such a Being must necessarily have on the minds of all\nthat have but once heard of it is so great, and carries such a weight\nof thought and communication with it, that it seems stranger to me that\na whole nation of men should be anywhere found so brutish as to want\nthe notion of a God, than that they should be without any notion of\nnumbers, or fire.\n\n10. Ideas of God and idea of Fire.\n\nThe name of God being once mentioned in any part of the world, to\nexpress a superior, powerful, wise, invisible Being, the suitableness\nof such a notion to the principles of common reason, and the interest\nmen will always have to mention it often, must necessarily spread it\nfar and wide; and continue it down to all generations: though yet the\ngeneral reception of this name, and some imperfect and unsteady notions\nconveyed thereby to the unthinking part of mankind, prove not the idea\nto be innate; but only that they who made the discovery had made a\nright use of their reason, thought maturely of the causes of things,\nand traced them to their original; from whom other less considering\npeople having once received so important a notion, it could not easily\nbe lost again.\n\n11. Idea of God not innate.\n\nThis is all could be inferred from the notion of a God, were it to be\nfound universally in all the tribes of mankind, and generally\nacknowledged, by men grown to maturity in all countries. For the\ngenerality of the acknowledging of a God, as I imagine, is extended no\nfurther than that; which, if it be sufficient to prove the idea of God\ninnate, will as well prove the idea of fire innate; since I think it\nmay be truly said, that there is not a person in the world who has a\nnotion of a God, who has not also the idea of fire. I doubt not but if\na colony of young children should be placed in an island where no fire\nwas, they would certainly neither have any notion of such a thing, nor\nname for it, how generally soever it were received and known in all the\nworld besides; and perhaps too their apprehensions would be as far\nremoved from any name, or notion, of a God, till some one amongst them\nhad employed his thoughts to inquire into the constitution and causes\nof things, which would easily lead him to the notion of a God; which\nhaving once taught to others, reason, and the natural propensity of\ntheir own thoughts, would afterwards propagate, and continue amongst\nthem.\n\n12. Suitable to God\u2019s goodness, that all Men should have an idea of\nHim, therefore naturally imprinted by Him, answered.\n\nIndeed it is urged, that it is suitable to the goodness of God, to\nimprint upon the minds of men characters and notions of himself, and\nnot to leave them in the dark and doubt in so grand a concernment; and\nalso, by that means, to secure to himself the homage and veneration due\nfrom so intelligent a creature as man; and therefore he has done it.\n\nThis argument, if it be of any force, will prove much more than those\nwho use it in this case expect from it. For, if we may conclude that\nGod hath done for men all that men shall judge is best for them,\nbecause it is suitable to his goodness so to do, it will prove, not\nonly that God has imprinted on the minds of men an idea of himself, but\nthat he hath plainly stamped there, in fair characters, all that men\nought to know or believe of him; all that they ought to do in obedience\nto his will; and that he hath given them a will and affections\nconformable to it. This, no doubt, every one will think better for men,\nthan that they should, in the dark, grope after knowledge, as St. Paul\ntells us all nations did after God (Acts xvii. 27); than that their\nwills should clash with their understandings, and their appetites cross\ntheir duty. The Romanists say it is best for men, and so suitable to\nthe goodness of God, that there should be an infallible judge of\ncontroversies on earth; and therefore there is one. And I, by the same\nreason, say it is better for men that every man himself should be\ninfallible. I leave them to consider, whether, by the force of this\nargument, they shall think that every man IS so. I think it a very good\nargument to say,\u2014the infinitely wise God hath made it so; and therefore\nit is best. But it seems to me a little too much confidence of our own\nwisdom to say,\u2014\u2018I think it best; and therefore God hath made it so.\u2019\nAnd in the matter in hand, it will be in vain to argue from such a\ntopic, that God hath done so, when certain experience shows us that he\nhath not. But the goodness of God hath not been wanting to men, without\nsuch original impressions of knowledge or ideas stamped on the mind;\nsince he hath furnished man with those faculties which will serve for\nthe sufficient discovery of all things requisite to the end of such a\nbeing; and I doubt not but to show, that a man, by the right use of his\nnatural abilities, may, without any innate principles, attain a\nknowledge of a God, and other things that concern him. God having\nendued man with those faculties of knowledge which he hath, was no more\nobliged by his goodness to plant those innate notions in his mind, than\nthat, having given him reason, hands, and materials, he should build\nhim bridges or houses,\u2014which some people in the world, however of good\nparts, do either totally want, or are but ill provided of, as well as\nothers are wholly without ideas of God and principles of morality, or\nat least have but very ill ones; the reason in both cases being, that\nthey never employed their parts, faculties, and powers industriously\nthat way, but contented themselves with the opinions, fashions, and\nthings of their country, as they found them, without looking any\nfurther. Had you or I been born at the Bay of Soldania, possibly our\nthoughts and notions had not exceeded those brutish ones of the\nHottentots that inhabit there. And had the Virginia king Apochancana\nbeen educated in England, he had been perhaps as knowing a divine, and\nas good a mathematician as any in it; the difference between him and a\nmore improved Englishman lying barely in this, that the exercise of his\nfaculties was bounded within the ways, modes, and notions of his own\ncountry, and never directed to any other or further inquiries. And if\nhe had not any idea of a God, it was only because he pursued not those\nthoughts that would have led him to it.\n\n13. Ideas of God various in different Men.\n\nI grant that if there were any ideas to be found imprinted on the minds\nof men, we have reason to expect it should be the notion of his Maker,\nas a mark God set on his own workmanship, to mind man of his dependence\nand duty; and that herein should appear the first instances of human\nknowledge. But how late is it before any such notion is discoverable in\nchildren? And when we find it there, how much more does it resemble the\nopinion and notion of the teacher, than represent the true God? He that\nshall observe in children the progress whereby their minds attain the\nknowledge they have, will think that the objects they do first and most\nfamiliarly converse with are those that make the first impressions on\ntheir understandings; nor will he find the least footsteps of any\nother. It is easy to take notice how their thoughts enlarge themselves,\nonly as they come to be acquainted with a greater variety of sensible\nobjects; to retain the ideas of them in their memories; and to get the\nskill to compound and enlarge them, and several ways put them together.\nHow, by these means, they come to frame in their minds an idea men have\nof a Deity, I shall hereafter show.\n\n14. Contrary and inconsistent ideas of God under the same name.\n\nCan it be thought that the ideas men have of God are the characters and\nmarks of himself, engraven in their minds by his own finger, when we\nsee that, in the same country, under one and the same name, men have\nfar different, nay often contrary and inconsistent ideas and\nconceptions of him? Their agreeing in a name, or sound, will scarce\nprove an innate notion of him.\n\n15. Gross ideas of God.\n\nWhat true or tolerable notion of a Deity could they have, who\nacknowledged and worshipped hundreds? Every deity that they owned above\none was an infallible evidence of their ignorance of Him, and a proof\nthat they had no true notion of God, where unity, infinity, and\neternity were excluded. To which, if we add their gross conceptions of\ncorporeity, expressed in their images and representations of their\ndeities; the amours, marriages, copulations, lusts, quarrels, and other\nmean qualities attributed by them to their gods; we shall have little\nreason to think that the heathen world, i.e. the greatest part of\nmankind, had such ideas of God in their minds as he himself, out of\ncare that they should not be mistaken about him, was author of. And\nthis universality of consent, so much argued, if it prove any native\nimpressions, it will be only this:\u2014that God imprinted on the minds of\nall men speaking the same language, a NAME for himself, but not any\nIDEA; since those people who agreed in the name, had, at the same time,\nfar different apprehensions about the thing signified. If they say that\nthe variety of deities worshipped by the heathen world were but\nfigurative ways of expressing the several attributes of that\nincomprehensible Being, or several parts of his providence, I answer:\nwhat they might be in the original I will not here inquire; but that\nthey were so in the thoughts of the vulgar I think nobody will affirm.\nAnd he that will consult the voyage of the Bishop of Beryte, c. 13,\n(not to mention other testimonies,) will find that the theology of the\nSiamites professedly owns a plurality of gods: or, as the Abbe de\nChoisy more judiciously remarks in his Journal du Voyage de Siam,\n107/177, it consists properly in acknowledging no God at all.\n\n16. Idea of God not innate although wise men of all nations come to\nhave it.\n\nIf it be said, that wise men of all nations came to have true\nconceptions of the unity and infinity of the Deity, I grant it. But\nthen this,\n\nFirst, excludes universality of consent in anything but the name; for\nthose wise men being very few, perhaps one of a thousand, this\nuniversality is very narrow.\n\nSecondly, it seems to me plainly to prove, that the truest and best\nnotions men have of God were not imprinted, but acquired by thought and\nmeditation, and a right use of their faculties: since the wise and\nconsiderate men of the world, by a right and careful employment of\ntheir thoughts and reason, attained true notions in this as well as\nother things; whilst the lazy and inconsiderate part of men, making far\nthe greater number, took up their notions by chance, from common\ntradition and vulgar conceptions, without much beating their heads\nabout them. And if it be a reason to think the notion of God innate,\nbecause all wise men had it, virtue too must be thought innate; for\nthat also wise men have always had.\n\n17. Odd, low, and pitiful ideas of God common among men.\n\nThis was evidently the case of all Gentilism. Nor hath even amongst\nJews, Christians, and Mahometans, who acknowledged but one God, this\ndoctrine, and the care taken in those nations to teach men to have true\nnotions of a God, prevailed so far as to make men to have the same and\nthe true ideas of him. How many even amongst us, will be found upon\ninquiry to fancy him in the shape of a man sitting in heaven; and to\nhave many other absurd and unfit conceptions of him? Christians as well\nas Turks have had whole sects owning and contending earnestly for\nit,\u2014that the Deity was corporeal, and of human shape: and though we\nfind few now amongst us who profess themselves Anthropomorphites,\n(though some I have met with that own it,) yet I believe he that will\nmake it his business may find amongst the ignorant and uninstructed\nChristians many of that opinion. Talk but with country people, almost\nof any age, or young people almost of any condition, and you shall find\nthat, though the name of God be frequently in their mouths, yet the\nnotions they apply this name to are so odd, low, and pitiful, that\nnobody can imagine they were taught by a rational man; much less that\nthey were characters written by the finger of God himself. Nor do I see\nhow it derogates more from the goodness of God, that he has given us\nminds unfurnished with these ideas of himself, than that he hath sent\nus into the world with bodies unclothed; and that there is no art or\nskill born with us. For, being fitted with faculties to attain these,\nit is want of industry and consideration in us, and not of bounty in\nhim, if we have them not. It is as certain that there is a God, as that\nthe opposite angles made by the intersection of two straight lines are\nequal. There was never any rational creature that set himself sincerely\nto examine the truth of these propositions that could fail to assent to\nthem; though yet it be past doubt that there are many men, who, having\nnot applied their thoughts that way, are ignorant both of the one and\nthe other. If any one think fit to call this (which is the utmost of\nits extent) UNIVERSAL CONSENT, such an one I easily allow; but such an\nuniversal consent as this proves not the idea of God, any more than it\ndoes the idea of such angles, innate.\n\n18. If the Idea of God be not innate, no other can be supposed innate.\n\nSince then though the knowledge of a God be the most natural discovery\nof human reason, yet the idea of him is not innate, as I think is\nevident from what has been said; I imagine there will be scarce any\nother idea found that can pretend to it. Since if God hath set any\nimpression, any character, on the understanding of men, it is most\nreasonable to expect it should have been some clear and uniform idea of\nHimself; as far as our weak capacities were capable to receive so\nincomprehensible and infinite an object. But our minds being at first\nvoid of that idea which we are most concerned to have, it is a strong\npresumption against all other innate characters. I must own, as far as\nI can observe, I can find none, and would be glad to be informed by any\nother.\n\n19. Idea of Substance not innate.\n\nI confess there is another idea which would be of general use for\nmankind to have, as it is of general talk as if they had it; and that\nis the idea of SUBSTANCE; which we neither have nor can have by\nsensation or reflection. If nature took care to provide us any ideas,\nwe might well expect they should be such as by our own faculties we\ncannot procure to ourselves; but we see, on the contrary, that since,\nby those ways whereby other ideas are brought into our minds, this is\nnot, we have no such clear idea at all; and therefore signify nothing\nby the word SUBSTANCE but only an uncertain supposition of we know not\nwhat, i. e. of something whereof we have no idea, which we take to be\nthe substratum, or support, of those ideas we do know.\n\n20. No Propositions can be innate, since no Ideas are innate.\n\nWhatever then we talk of innate, either speculative or practical,\nprinciples, it may with as much probability be said, that a man hath\n100 pounds sterling in his pocket, and yet denied that he hath there\neither penny, shilling, crown, or other coin out of which the sum is to\nbe made up; as to think that certain PROPOSITIONS are innate when the\nIDEAS about which they are can by no means be supposed to be so. The\ngeneral reception and assent that is given doth not at all prove, that\nthe ideas expressed in them are innate; for in many cases, however the\nideas came there, the assent to words expressing the agreement or\ndisagreement of such ideas, will necessarily follow. Every one that\nhath a true idea of GOD and WORSHIP, will assent to this proposition,\n\u2018That God is to be worshipped,\u2019 when expressed in a language he\nunderstands; and every rational man that hath not thought on it to-day,\nmay be ready to assent to this proposition to-morrow; and yet millions\nof men may be well supposed to want one or both those ideas to-day.\nFor, if we will allow savages, and most country people, to have ideas\nof God and worship, (which conversation with them will not make one\nforward to believe,) yet I think few children can be supposed to have\nthose ideas, which therefore they must begin to have some time or\nother; and then they will also begin to assent to that proposition, and\nmake very little question of it ever after. But such an assent upon\nhearing, no more proves the IDEAS to be innate, than it does that one\nborn blind (with cataracts which will be couched to-morrow) had the\ninnate ideas of the sun, or light, or saffron, or yellow; because, when\nhis sight is cleared, he will certainly assent to this proposition,\n\u201cThat the sun is lucid, or that saffron is yellow.\u201d And therefore, if\nsuch an assent upon hearing cannot prove the ideas innate, it can much\nless the PROPOSITIONS made up of those ideas. If they have any innate\nideas, I would be glad to be told what, and how many, they are.\n\n21. No innate Ideas in the Memory.\n\nTo which let me add: if there be any innate ideas, any ideas in the\nmind which the mind does not actually think on, they must be lodged in\nthe memory; and from thence must be brought into view by remembrance;\ni. e. must be known, when they are remembered, to have been perceptions\nin the mind before; unless remembrance can be without remembrance. For,\nto remember is to perceive anything with memory, or with a\nconsciousness that it was perceived or known before. Without this,\nwhatever idea comes into the mind is new, and not remembered; this\nconsciousness of its having been in the mind before, being that which\ndistinguishes remembering from all other ways of thinking. Whatever\nidea was never PERCEIVED by the mind was never in the mind. Whatever\nidea is in the mind, is, either an actual perception, or else, having\nbeen an actual perception, is so in the mind that, by the memory, it\ncan be made an actual perception again. Whenever there is the actual\nperception of any idea without memory, the idea appears perfectly new\nand unknown before to the understanding. Whenever the memory brings any\nidea into actual view, it is with a consciousness that it had been\nthere before, and was not wholly a stranger to the mind. Whether this\nbe not so, I appeal to every one\u2019s observation. And then I desire an\ninstance of an idea, pretended to be innate, which (before any\nimpression of it by ways hereafter to be mentioned) any one could\nrevive and remember, as an idea he had formerly known; without which\nconsciousness of a former perception there is no remembrance; and\nwhatever idea comes into the mind without THAT consciousness is not\nremembered, or comes not out of the memory, nor can be said to be in\nthe mind before that appearance. For what is not either actually in\nview or in the memory, is in the mind no way at all, and is all one as\nif it had never been there. Suppose a child had the use of his eyes\ntill he knows and distinguishes colours; but then cataracts shut the\nwindows, and he is forty or fifty years perfectly in the dark; and in\nthat time perfectly loses all memory of the ideas of colours he once\nhad. This was the case of a blind man I once talked with, who lost his\nsight by the small-pox when he was a child, and had no more notion of\ncolours than one born blind. I ask whether any one can say this man had\nthen any ideas of colours in his mind, any more than one born blind?\nAnd I think nobody will say that either of them had in his mind any\nideas of colours at all. His cataracts are couched, and then he has the\nideas (which he remembers not) of colours, DE NOVO, by his restored\nsight, conveyed to his mind, and that without any consciousness of a\nformer acquaintance. And these now he can revive and call to mind in\nthe dark. In this case all these ideas of colours which, when out of\nview, can be revived with a consciousness of a former acquaintance,\nbeing thus in the memory, are said to be in the mind. The use I make of\nthis is,\u2014that whatever idea, being not actually in view, is in the\nmind, is there only by being in the memory; and if it be not in the\nmemory, it is not in the mind; and if it be in the memory, it cannot by\nthe memory be brought into actual view without a perception that it\ncomes out of the memory; which is this, that it had been known before,\nand is now remembered. If therefore there be any innate ideas, they\nmust be in the memory, or else nowhere in the mind; and if they be in\nthe memory, they can be revived without any impression from without;\nand whenever they are brought into the mind they are remembered, i. e.\nthey bring with them a perception of their not being wholly new to it.\nThis being a constant and distinguishing difference between what is,\nand what is not in the memory, or in the mind;\u2014that what is not in the\nmemory, whenever it appears there, appears perfectly new and unknown\nbefore; and what is in the memory, or in the mind, whenever it is\nsuggested by the memory, appears not to be new, but the mind finds it\nin itself, and knows it was there before. By this it may be tried\nwhether there be any innate ideas in the mind before impression from\nsensation or reflection. I would fain meet with the man who, when he\ncame to the use of reason, or at any other time, remembered any of\nthem; and to whom, after he was born, they were never new. If any one\nwill say, there are ideas in the mind that are NOT in the memory, I\ndesire him to explain himself, and make what he says intelligible.\n\n22. Principles not innate, because of little use or little certainty.\n\nBesides what I have already said, there is another reason why I doubt\nthat neither these nor any other principles are innate. I that am fully\npersuaded that the infinitely wise God made all things in perfect\nwisdom, cannot satisfy myself why he should be supposed to print upon\nthe minds of men some universal principles; whereof those that are\npretended innate, and concern SPECULATION, are of no great use; and\nthose that concern PRACTICE, not self-evident; and neither of them\ndistinguishable from some other truths not allowed to be innate. For,\nto what purpose should characters be graven on the mind by the finger\nof God, which are not clearer there than those which are afterwards\nintroduced, or cannot be distinguished from them? If any one thinks\nthere are such innate ideas and propositions, which by their clearness\nand usefulness are distinguishable from all that is adventitious in the\nmind and acquired, it will not be a hard matter for him to tell us\nWHICH THEY ARE; and then every one will be a fit judge whether they be\nso or no. Since if there be such innate ideas and impressions, plainly\ndifferent from all other perceptions and knowledge, every one will find\nit true in himself. Of the evidence of these supposed innate maxims, I\nhave spoken already: of their usefulness I shall have occasion to speak\nmore hereafter.\n\n23. Difference of Men\u2019s Discoveries depends upon the different\nApplication of their Faculties.\n\nTo conclude: some ideas forwardly offer themselves to all men\u2019s\nunderstanding; and some sorts of truths result from any ideas, as soon\nas the mind puts them into propositions: other truths require a train\nof ideas placed in order, a due comparing of them, and deductions made\nwith attention, before they can be discovered and assented to. Some of\nthe first sort, because of their general and easy reception, have been\nmistaken for innate: but the truth is, ideas and notions are no more\nborn with us than arts and sciences; though some of them indeed offer\nthemselves to our faculties more readily than others; and therefore are\nmore generally received: though that too be according as the organs of\nour bodies and powers of our minds happen to be employed; God having\nfitted men with faculties and means to discover, receive, and retain\ntruths, according as they are employed. The great difference that is to\nbe found in the notions of mankind is, from the different use they put\ntheir faculties to. Whilst some (and those the most) taking things upon\ntrust, misemploy their power of assent, by lazily enslaving their minds\nto the dictates and dominion of others, in doctrines which it is their\nduty carefully to examine, and not blindly, with an implicit faith, to\nswallow; others, employing their thoughts only about some few things,\ngrow acquainted sufficiently with them, attain great degrees of\nknowledge in them, and are ignorant of all other, having never let\ntheir thoughts loose in the search of other inquiries. Thus, that the\nthree angles of a triangle are quite equal to two right ones is a truth\nas certain as anything can be, and I think more evident than many of\nthose propositions that go for principles; and yet there are millions,\nhowever expert in other things, who know not this at all, because they\nnever set their thoughts on work about such angles. And he that\ncertainly knows this proposition may yet be utterly ignorant of the\ntruth of other propositions, in mathematics itself, which are as clear\nand evident as this; because, in his search of those mathematical\ntruths, he stopped his thoughts short and went not so far. The same may\nhappen concerning the notions we have of the being of a Deity. For,\nthough there be no truth which a man may more evidently make out to\nhimself than the existence of a God, yet he that shall content himself\nwith things as he finds them in this world, as they minister to his\npleasures and passions, and not make inquiry a little further into\ntheir causes, ends, and admirable contrivances, and pursue the thoughts\nthereof with diligence and attention, may live long without any notion\nof such a Being. And if any person hath by talk put such a notion into\nhis head, he may perhaps believe it; but if he hath never examined it,\nhis knowledge of it will be no perfecter than his, who having been\ntold, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones,\ntakes it upon trust, without examining the demonstration; and may yield\nhis assent as a probable opinion, but hath no knowledge of the truth of\nit; which yet his faculties, if carefully employed, were able to make\nclear and evident to him. But this only, by the by, to show how much\nOUR KNOWLEDGE DEPENDS UPON THE RIGHT USE OF THOSE POWERS NATURE HATH\nBESTOWED UPON US, and how little upon SUCH INNATE PRINCIPLES AS ARE IN\nVAIN SUPPOSED TO BE IN ALL MANKIND FOR THEIR DIRECTION; which all men\ncould not but know if they were there, or else they would be there to\nno purpose. And which since all men do not know, nor can distinguish\nfrom other adventitious truths, we may well conclude there are no such.\n\n24. Men must think and know for themselves.\n\nWhat censure doubting thus of innate principles may deserve from men,\nwho will be apt to call it pulling up the old foundations of knowledge\nand certainty, I cannot tell;\u2014I persuade myself at least that the way I\nhave pursued, being conformable to truth, lays those foundations surer.\nThis I am certain, I have not made it my business either to quit or\nfollow any authority in the ensuing Discourse. Truth has been my only\naim; and wherever that has appeared to lead, my thoughts have\nimpartially followed, without minding whether the footsteps of any\nother lay that way or not. Not that I want a due respect to other men\u2019s\nopinions; but, after all, the greatest reverence is due to truth: and I\nhope it will not be thought arrogance to say, that perhaps we should\nmake greater progress in the discovery of rational and contemplative\nknowledge, if we sought it in the fountain, IN THE CONSIDERATION OF\nTHINGS THEMSELVES; and made use rather of our own thoughts than other\nmen\u2019s to find it. For I think we may as rationally hope to see with\nother men\u2019s eyes, as to know by other men\u2019s understandings. So much as\nwe ourselves consider and comprehend of truth and reason, so much we\npossess of real and true knowledge. The floating of other men\u2019s\nopinions in our brains, makes us not one jot the more knowing, though\nthey happen to be true. What in them was science, is in us but\nopiniatrety; whilst we give up our assent only to reverend names, and\ndo not, as they did, employ our own reason to understand those truths\nwhich gave them reputation. Aristotle was certainly a knowing man, but\nnobody ever thought him so because he blindly embraced, and confidently\nvented the opinions of another. And if the taking up of another\u2019s\nprinciples, without examining them, made not him a philosopher, I\nsuppose it will hardly make anybody else so. In the sciences, every one\nhas so much as he really knows and comprehends. What he believes only,\nand takes upon trust, are but shreds; which, however well in the whole\npiece, make no considerable addition to his stock who gathers them.\nSuch borrowed wealth, like fairy money, though it were gold in the hand\nfrom which he received it, will be but leaves and dust when it comes to\nuse.\n\n25. Whence the Opinion of Innate Principles.\n\nWhen men have found some general propositions that could not be doubted\nof as soon as understood, it was, I know, a short and easy way to\nconclude them innate. This being once received, it eased the lazy from\nthe pains of search, and stopped the inquiry of the doubtful concerning\nall that was once styled innate. And it was of no small advantage to\nthose who affected to be masters and teachers, to make this the\nprinciple of principles,\u2014THAT PRINCIPLES MUST NOT BE QUESTIONED. For,\nhaving once established this tenet,\u2014that there are innate principles,\nit put their followers upon a necessity of receiving SOME doctrines as\nsuch; which was to take them off from the use of their own reason and\njudgment, and put them on believing and taking them upon trust without\nfurther examination: in which posture of blind credulity, they might be\nmore easily governed by, and made useful to some sort of men, who had\nthe skill and office to principle and guide them. Nor is it a small\npower it gives one man over another, to have the authority to be the\ndictator of principles, and teacher of unquestionable truths; and to\nmake a man swallow that for an innate principle which may serve to his\npurpose who teacheth them. Whereas had they examined the ways whereby\nmen came to the knowledge of many universal truths, they would have\nfound them to result in the minds of men from the being of things\nthemselves, when duly considered; and that they were discovered by the\napplication of those faculties that were fitted by nature to receive\nand judge of them, when duly employed about them.\n\n26. Conclusion.\n\nTo show HOW the understanding proceeds herein is the design of the\nfollowing Discourse; which I shall proceed to when I have first\npremised, that hitherto,\u2014to clear my way to those foundations which I\nconceive are the only true ones, whereon to establish those notions we\ncan have of our own knowledge,\u2014it hath been necessary for me to give an\naccount of the reasons I had to doubt of innate principles. And since\nthe arguments which are against them do, some of them, rise from common\nreceived opinions, I have been forced to take several things for\ngranted; which is hardly avoidable to any one, whose task is to show\nthe falsehood or improbability of any tenet;\u2014it happening in\ncontroversial discourses as it does in assaulting of towns; where, if\nthe ground be but firm whereon the batteries are erected, there is no\nfurther inquiry of whom it is borrowed, nor whom it belongs to, so it\naffords but a fit rise for the present purpose. But in the future part\nof this Discourse, designing to raise an edifice uniform and consistent\nwith itself, as far as my own experience and observation will assist\nme, I hope to erect it on such a basis that I shall not need to shore\nit up with props and buttresses, leaning on borrowed or begged\nfoundations: or at least, if mine prove a castle in the air, I will\nendeavour it shall be all of a piece and hang together. Wherein I warn\nthe reader not to expect undeniable cogent demonstrations, unless I may\nbe allowed the privilege, not seldom assumed by others, to take my\nprinciples for granted; and then, I doubt not, but I can demonstrate\ntoo. All that I shall say for the principles I proceed on is, that I\ncan only appeal to men\u2019s own unprejudiced experience and observation\nwhether they be true or not; and this is enough for a man who professes\nno more than to lay down candidly and freely his own conjectures,\nconcerning a subject lying somewhat in the dark, without any other\ndesign than an unbiassed inquiry after truth.\n\n\n\n\nBOOK II\nOF IDEAS\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\nOF IDEAS IN GENERAL, AND THEIR ORIGINAL.\n\n\n1. Idea is the Object of Thinking.\n\nEvery man being conscious to himself that he thinks; and that which his\nmind is applied about whilst thinking being the IDEAS that are there,\nit is past doubt that men have in their minds several ideas,\u2014such as\nare those expressed by the words whiteness, hardness, sweetness,\nthinking, motion, man, elephant, army, drunkenness, and others: it is\nin the first place then to be inquired, HOW HE COMES BY THEM?\n\nI know it is a received doctrine, that men have native ideas, and\noriginal characters, stamped upon their minds in their very first\nbeing. This opinion I have at large examined already; and, I suppose\nwhat I have said in the foregoing Book will be much more easily\nadmitted, when I have shown whence the understanding may get all the\nideas it has; and by what ways and degrees they may come into the\nmind;\u2014for which I shall appeal to every one\u2019s own observation and\nexperience.\n\n2. All Ideas come from Sensation or Reflection.\n\nLet us then suppose the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all\ncharacters, without any ideas:\u2014How comes it to be furnished? Whence\ncomes it by that vast store which the busy and boundless fancy of man\nhas painted on it with an almost endless variety? Whence has it all the\nMATERIALS of reason and knowledge? To this I answer, in one word, from\nEXPERIENCE. In that all our knowledge is founded; and from that it\nultimately derives itself. Our observation employed either, about\nexternal sensible objects, or about the internal operations of our\nminds perceived and reflected on by ourselves, is that which supplies\nour understandings with all the MATERIALS of thinking. These two are\nthe fountains of knowledge, from whence all the ideas we have, or can\nnaturally have, do spring.\n\n3. The Objects of Sensation one Source of Ideas\n\nFirst, our Senses, conversant about particular sensible objects, do\nconvey into the mind several distinct perceptions of things, according\nto those various ways wherein those objects do affect them. And thus we\ncome by those IDEAS we have of yellow, white, heat, cold, soft, hard,\nbitter, sweet, and all those which we call sensible qualities; which\nwhen I say the senses convey into the mind, I mean, they from external\nobjects convey into the mind what produces there those perceptions.\nThis great source of most of the ideas we have, depending wholly upon\nour senses, and derived by them to the understanding, I call SENSATION.\n\n4. The Operations of our Minds, the other Source of them.\n\nSecondly, the other fountain from which experience furnisheth the\nunderstanding with ideas is,\u2014the perception of the operations of our\nown mind within us, as it is employed about the ideas it has got;\u2014which\noperations, when the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish\nthe understanding with another set of ideas, which could not be had\nfrom things without. And such are perception, thinking, doubting,\nbelieving, reasoning, knowing, willing, and all the different actings\nof our own minds;\u2014which we being conscious of, and observing in\nourselves, do from these receive into our understandings as distinct\nideas as we do from bodies affecting our senses. This source of ideas\nevery man has wholly in himself; and though it be not sense, as having\nnothing to do with external objects, yet it is very like it, and might\nproperly enough be called INTERNAL SENSE. But as I call the other\nSensation, so I call this REFLECTION, the ideas it affords being such\nonly as the mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within\nitself. By reflection then, in the following part of this discourse, I\nwould be understood to mean, that notice which the mind takes of its\nown operations, and the manner of them, by reason whereof there come to\nbe ideas of these operations in the understanding. These two, I say,\nviz. external material things, as the objects of SENSATION, and the\noperations of our own minds within, as the objects of REFLECTION, are\nto me the only originals from whence all our ideas take their\nbeginnings. The term OPERATIONS here I use in a large sense, as\ncomprehending not barely the actions of the mind about its ideas, but\nsome sort of passions arising sometimes from them, such as is the\nsatisfaction or uneasiness arising from any thought.\n\n5. All our Ideas are of the one or of the other of these.\n\nThe understanding seems to me not to have the least glimmering of any\nideas which it doth not receive from one of these two. EXTERNAL OBJECTS\nfurnish the mind with the ideas of sensible qualities, which are all\nthose different perceptions they produce in us; and THE MIND furnishes\nthe understanding with ideas of its own operations.\n\nThese, when we have taken a full survey of them, and their several\nmodes, and the compositions made out of them we shall find to contain\nall our whole stock of ideas; and that we have nothing in our minds\nwhich did not come in one of these two ways. Let any one examine his\nown thoughts, and thoroughly search into his understanding; and then\nlet him tell me, whether all the original ideas he has there, are any\nother than of the objects of his senses, or of the operations of his\nmind, considered as objects of his reflection. And how great a mass of\nknowledge soever he imagines to be lodged there, he will, upon taking a\nstrict view, see that he has not any idea in his mind but what one of\nthese two have imprinted;\u2014though perhaps, with infinite variety\ncompounded and enlarged by the understanding, as we shall see\nhereafter.\n\n6. Observable in Children.\n\nHe that attentively considers the state of a child, at his first coming\ninto the world, will have little reason to think him stored with plenty\nof ideas, that are to be the matter of his future knowledge. It is BY\nDEGREES he comes to be furnished with them. And though the ideas of\nobvious and familiar qualities imprint themselves before the memory\nbegins to keep a register of time or order, yet it is often so late\nbefore some unusual qualities come in the way, that there are few men\nthat cannot recollect the beginning of their acquaintance with them.\nAnd if it were worth while, no doubt a child might be so ordered as to\nhave but a very few, even of the ordinary ideas, till he were grown up\nto a man. But all that are born into the world, being surrounded with\nbodies that perpetually and diversely affect them, variety of ideas,\nwhether care be taken of it or not, are imprinted on the minds of\nchildren. Light and colours are busy at hand everywhere, when the eye\nis but open; sounds and some tangible qualities fail not to solicit\ntheir proper senses, and force an entrance to the mind;\u2014but yet, I\nthink, it will be granted easily, that if a child were kept in a place\nwhere he never saw any other but black and white till he were a man, he\nwould have no more ideas of scarlet or green, than he that from his\nchildhood never tasted an oyster, or a pine-apple, has of those\nparticular relishes.\n\n7. Men are differently furnished with these, according to the different\nObjects they converse with.\n\nMen then come to be furnished with fewer or more simple ideas from\nwithout, according as the objects they converse with afford greater or\nless variety; and from the operations of their minds within, according\nas they more or less reflect on them. For, though he that contemplates\nthe operations of his mind, cannot but have plain and clear ideas of\nthem; yet, unless he turn his thoughts that way, and considers them\nATTENTIVELY, he will no more have clear and distinct ideas of all the\noperations of his mind, and all that may be observed therein, than he\nwill have all the particular ideas of any landscape, or of the parts\nand motions of a clock, who will not turn his eyes to it, and with\nattention heed all the parts of it. The picture, or clock may be so\nplaced, that they may come in his way every day; but yet he will have\nbut a confused idea of all the parts they are made up of, till he\napplies himself with attention, to consider them each in particular.\n\n8. Ideas of Reflection later, because they need Attention.\n\nAnd hence we see the reason why it is pretty late before most children\nget ideas of the operations of their own minds; and some have not any\nvery clear or perfect ideas of the greatest part of them all their\nlives. Because, though they pass there continually, yet, like floating\nvisions, they make not deep impressions enough to leave in their mind\nclear, distinct, lasting ideas, till the understanding turns inward\nupon itself, reflects on its own operations, and makes them the objects\nof its own contemplation. Children when they come first into it, are\nsurrounded with a world of new things which, by a constant solicitation\nof their senses, draw the mind constantly to them; forward to take\nnotice of new, and apt to be delighted with the variety of changing\nobjects. Thus the first years are usually employed and diverted in\nlooking abroad. Men\u2019s business in them is to acquaint themselves with\nwhat is to be found without; and so growing up in a constant attention\nto outward sensations, seldom make any considerable reflection on what\npasses within them, till they come to be of riper years; and some\nscarce ever at all.\n\n9. The Soul begins to have Ideas when it begins to perceive.\n\nTo ask, at what TIME a man has first any ideas, is to ask, when he\nbegins to perceive;\u2014HAVING IDEAS, and PERCEPTION, being the same thing.\nI know it is an opinion, that the soul always thinks, and that it has\nthe actual perception of ideas in itself constantly, as long as it\nexists; and that actual thinking is as inseparable from the soul as\nactual extension is from the body; which if true, to inquire after the\nbeginning of a man\u2019s ideas is the same as to inquire after the\nbeginning of his soul. For, by this account, soul and its ideas, as\nbody and its extension, will begin to exist both at the same time.\n\n10. The Soul thinks not always; for this wants Proofs.\n\nBut whether the soul be supposed to exist antecedent to, or coeval\nwith, or some time after the first rudiments of organization, or the\nbeginnings of life in the body, I leave to be disputed by those who\nhave better thought of that matter. I confess myself to have one of\nthose dull souls, that doth not perceive itself always to contemplate\nideas; nor can conceive it any more necessary for the soul always to\nthink, than for the body always to move: the perception of ideas being\n(as I conceive) to the soul, what motion is to the body; not its\nessence, but one of its operations. And therefore, though thinking be\nsupposed never so much the proper action of the soul, yet it is not\nnecessary to suppose that it should be always thinking, always in\naction. That, perhaps, is the privilege of the infinite Author and\nPreserver of all things, who \u201cnever slumbers nor sleeps\u201d; but is not\ncompetent to any finite being, at least not to the soul of man. We know\ncertainly, by experience, that we SOMETIMES think; and thence draw this\ninfallible consequence,\u2014that there is something in us that has a power\nto think. But whether that substance PERPETUALLY thinks or no, we can\nbe no further assured than experience informs us. For, to say that\nactual thinking is essential to the soul, and inseparable from it, is\nto beg what is in question, and not to prove it by reason;\u2014which is\nnecessary to be done, if it be not a self-evident proposition. But\nwhether this, \u201cThat the soul always thinks,\u201d be a self-evident\nproposition, that everybody assents to at first hearing, I appeal to\nmankind. It is doubted whether I thought at all last night or no. The\nquestion being about a matter of fact, it is begging it to bring, as a\nproof for it, an hypothesis, which is the very thing in dispute: by\nwhich way one may prove anything, and it is but supposing that all\nwatches, whilst the balance beats, think, and it is sufficiently\nproved, and past doubt, that my watch thought all last night. But he\nthat would not deceive himself, ought to build his hypothesis on matter\nof fact, and make it out by sensible experience, and not presume on\nmatter of fact, because of his hypothesis, that is, because he supposes\nit to be so; which way of proving amounts to this, that I must\nnecessarily think all last night, because another supposes I always\nthink, though I myself cannot perceive that I always do so.\n\nBut men in love with their opinions may not only suppose what is in\nquestion, but allege wrong matter of fact. How else could any one make\nit an inference of mine, that a thing is not, because we are not\nsensible of it in our sleep? I do not say there is no SOUL in a man,\nbecause he is not sensible of it in his sleep; but I do say, he cannot\nTHINK at any time, waking or sleeping, without being sensible of it.\nOur being sensible of it is not necessary to anything but to our\nthoughts; and to them it is; and to them it always will be necessary,\ntill we can think without being conscious of it.\n\n11. It is not always conscious of it.\n\nI grant that the soul, in a waking man, is never without thought,\nbecause it is the condition of being awake. But whether sleeping\nwithout dreaming be not an affection of the whole man, mind as well as\nbody, may be worth a waking man\u2019s consideration; it being hard to\nconceive that anything should think and not be conscious of it. If the\nsoul doth think in a sleeping man without being conscious of it, I ask\nwhether, during such thinking, it has any pleasure or pain, or be\ncapable of happiness or misery? I am sure the man is not; no more than\nthe bed or earth he lies on. For to be happy or miserable without being\nconscious of it, seems to me utterly inconsistent and impossible. Or if\nit be possible that the SOUL can, whilst the body is sleeping, have its\nthinking, enjoyments, and concerns, its pleasures or pain, apart, which\nthe MAN is not conscious of nor partakes in,\u2014it is certain that\nSocrates asleep and Socrates awake is not the same person; but his soul\nwhen he sleeps, and Socrates the man, consisting of body and soul, when\nhe is waking, are two persons: since waking Socrates has no knowledge\nof, or concernment for that happiness or misery of his soul, which it\nenjoys alone by itself whilst he sleeps, without perceiving anything of\nit; no more than he has for the happiness or misery of a man in the\nIndies, whom he knows not. For, if we take wholly away all\nconsciousness of our actions and sensations, especially of pleasure and\npain, and the concernment that accompanies it, it will be hard to know\nwherein to place personal identity.\n\n12. If a sleeping Man thinks without knowing it, the sleeping and\nwaking Man are two Persons.\n\nThe soul, during sound sleep, thinks, say these men. Whilst it thinks\nand perceives, it is capable certainly of those of delight or trouble,\nas well as any other perceptions; and IT must necessarily be CONSCIOUS\nof its own perceptions. But it has all this apart: the sleeping MAN, it\nis plain, is conscious of nothing of all this. Let us suppose, then,\nthe soul of Castor, while he is sleeping, retired from his body; which\nis no impossible supposition for the men I have here to do with, who so\nliberally allow life, without a thinking soul, to all other animals.\nThese men cannot then judge it impossible, or a contradiction, that the\nbody should live without the soul; nor that the soul should subsist and\nthink, or have perception, even perception of happiness or misery,\nwithout the body. Let us then, I say, suppose the soul of Castor\nseparated during his sleep from his body, to think apart. Let us\nsuppose, too, that it chooses for its scene of thinking the body of\nanother man, v. g. Pollux, who is sleeping without a soul. For, if\nCastor\u2019s soul can think, whilst Castor is asleep, what Castor is never\nconscious of, it is no matter what PLACE it chooses to think in. We\nhave here, then, the bodies of two men with only one soul between them,\nwhich we will suppose to sleep and wake by turns; and the soul still\nthinking in the waking man, whereof the sleeping man is never\nconscious, has never the least perception. I ask, then, whether Castor\nand Pollux, thus with only one soul between them, which thinks and\nperceives in one what the other is never conscious of, nor is concerned\nfor, are not two as distinct PERSONS as Castor and Hercules, or as\nSocrates and Plato were? And whether one of them might not be very\nhappy, and the other very miserable? Just by the same reason, they make\nthe soul and the man two persons, who make the soul think apart what\nthe man is not conscious of. For, I suppose nobody will make identity\nof persons to consist in the soul\u2019s being united to the very same\nnumerical particles of matter. For if that be necessary to identity, it\nwill be impossible, in that constant flux of the particles of our\nbodies, that any man should be the same person two days, or two\nmoments, together.\n\n13. Impossible to convince those that sleep without dreaming, that they\nthink.\n\nThus, methinks, every drowsy nod shakes their doctrine, who teach that\nthe soul is always thinking. Those, at least, who do at any time SLEEP\nWITHOUT DREAMING, can never be convinced that their thoughts are\nsometimes for four hours busy without their knowing of it; and if they\nare taken in the very act, waked in the middle of that sleeping\ncontemplation, can give no manner of account of it.\n\n14. That men dream without remembering it, in vain urged.\n\nIt will perhaps be said,\u2014That the soul thinks even in the soundest\nsleep, but the MEMORY retains it not. That the soul in a sleeping man\nshould be this moment busy a thinking, and the next moment in a waking\nman not remember nor be able to recollect one jot of all those\nthoughts, is very hard to be conceived, and would need some better\nproof than bare assertion to make it be believed. For who can without\nany more ado, but being barely told so, imagine that the greatest part\nof men do, during all their lives, for several hours every day, think\nof something, which if they were asked, even in the middle of these\nthoughts, they could remember nothing at all of? Most men, I think,\npass a great part of their sleep without dreaming. I once knew a man\nthat was bred a scholar, and had no bad memory, who told me he had\nnever dreamed in his life, till he had that fever he was then newly\nrecovered of, which was about the five or six and twentieth year of his\nage. I suppose the world affords more such instances: at least every\none\u2019s acquaintance will furnish him with examples enough of such as\npass most of their nights without dreaming.\n\n15. Upon this Hypothesis, the Thoughts of a sleeping Man ought to be\nmost rational.\n\nTo think often, and never to retain it so much as one moment, is a very\nuseless sort of thinking; and the soul, in such a state of thinking,\ndoes very little, if at all, excel that of a looking-glass, which\nconstantly receives variety of images, or ideas, but retains none; they\ndisappear and vanish, and there remain no footsteps of them; the\nlooking-glass is never the better for such ideas, nor the soul for such\nthoughts. Perhaps it will be said, that in a waking MAN the materials\nof the body are employed, and made use of, in thinking; and that the\nmemory of thoughts is retained by the impressions that are made on the\nbrain, and the traces there left after such thinking; but that in the\nthinking of the SOUL, which is not perceived in a sleeping man, there\nthe soul thinks apart, and making no use of the organs of the body,\nleaves no impressions on it, and consequently no memory of such\nthoughts. Not to mention again the absurdity of two distinct persons,\nwhich follows from this supposition, I answer, further,\u2014That whatever\nideas the mind can receive and contemplate without the help of the\nbody, it is reasonable to conclude it can retain without the help of\nthe body too; or else the soul, or any separate spirit, will have but\nlittle advantage by thinking. If it has no memory of its own thoughts;\nif it cannot lay them up for its own use, and be able to recall them\nupon occasion; if it cannot reflect upon what is past, and make use of\nits former experiences, reasonings, and contemplations, to what purpose\ndoes it think? They who make the soul a thinking thing, at this rate,\nwill not make it a much more noble being than those do whom they\ncondemn, for allowing it to be nothing but the subtilist parts of\nmatter. Characters drawn on dust, that the first breath of wind\neffaces; or impressions made on a heap of atoms, or animal spirits, are\naltogether as useful, and render the subject as noble, as the thoughts\nof a soul that perish in thinking; that, once out of sight, are gone\nfor ever, and leave no memory of themselves behind them. Nature never\nmakes excellent things for mean or no uses: and it is hardly to be\nconceived that our infinitely wise Creator should make so admirable a\nfaculty as the power of thinking, that faculty which comes nearest the\nexcellency of his own incomprehensible being, to be so idly and\nuselessly employed, at least a fourth part of its time here, as to\nthink constantly, without remembering any of those thoughts, without\ndoing any good to itself or others, or being any way useful to any\nother part of the creation. If we will examine it, we shall not find, I\nsuppose, the motion of dull and senseless matter, any where in the\nuniverse, made so little use of and so wholly thrown away.\n\n16. On this Hypothesis, the Soul must have Ideas not derived from\nSensation or Reflection, of which there is no Appearance.\n\nIt is true, we have sometimes instances of perception whilst we are\nasleep, and retain the memory of those thoughts: but how extravagant\nand incoherent for the most part they are; how little conformable to\nthe perfection and order of a rational being, those who are acquainted\nwith dreams need not be told. This I would willingly be satisfied\nin,\u2014whether the soul, when it thinks thus apart, and as it were\nseparate from the body, acts less rationally than when conjointly with\nit, or no. If its separate thoughts be less rational, then these men\nmust say, that the soul owes the perfection of rational thinking to the\nbody: if it does not, it is a wonder that our dreams should be, for the\nmost part, so frivolous and irrational; and that the soul should retain\nnone of its more rational soliloquies and meditations.\n\n17. If I think when I know it not, nobody else can know it.\n\nThose who so confidently tell us that the soul always actually thinks,\nI would they would also tell us, what those ideas are that are in the\nsoul of a child, before or just at the union with the body, before it\nhath received any by sensation. The dreams of sleeping men are, as I\ntake it, all made up of the waking man\u2019s ideas; though for the most\npart oddly put together. It is strange, if the soul has ideas of its\nown that it derived not from sensation or reflection, (as it must have,\nif it thought before it received any impressions from the body,) that\nit should never, in its private thinking, (so private, that the man\nhimself perceives it not,) retain any of them the very moment it wakes\nout of them, and then make the man glad with new discoveries. Who can\nfind it reason that the soul should, in its retirement during sleep,\nhave so many hours\u2019 thoughts, and yet never light on any of those ideas\nit borrowed not from sensation or reflection; or at least preserve the\nmemory of none but such, which, being occasioned from the body, must\nneeds be less natural to a spirit? It is strange the soul should never\nonce in a man\u2019s whole life recall over any of its pure native thoughts,\nand those ideas it had before it borrowed anything from the body; never\nbring into the waking man\u2019s view any other ideas but what have a tang\nof the cask, and manifestly derive their original from that union. If\nit always thinks, and so had ideas before it was united, or before it\nreceived any from the body, it is not to be supposed but that during\nsleep it recollects its native ideas; and during that retirement from\ncommunicating with the body, whilst it thinks by itself, the ideas it\nis busied about should be, sometimes at least, those more natural and\ncongenial ones which it had in itself, underived from the body, or its\nown operations about them: which, since the waking man never remembers,\nwe must from this hypothesis conclude either that the soul remembers\nsomething that the man does not; or else that memory belongs only to\nsuch ideas as are derived from the body, or the mind\u2019s operations about\nthem.\n\n18. How knows any one that the Soul always thinks? For if it be not a\nself-evident Proposition, it needs Proof.\n\nI would be glad also to learn from these men who so confidently\npronounce that the human soul, or, which is all one, that a man always\nthinks, how they come to know it; nay, how they come to know that they\nthemselves think, when they themselves do not perceive it. This, I am\nafraid, is to be sure without proofs, and to know without perceiving.\nIt is, I suspect, a confused notion, taken up to serve an hypothesis;\nand none of those clear truths, that either their own evidence forces\nus to admit, or common experience makes it impudence to deny. For the\nmost that can be said of it is, that it is possible the soul may always\nthink, but not always retain it in memory. And I say, it is as possible\nthat the soul may not always think; and much more probable that it\nshould sometimes not think, than that it should often think, and that a\nlong while together, and not be conscious to itself, the next moment\nafter, that it had thought.\n\n19. That a Man should be busy in Thinking, and yet not retain it the\nnext moment, very improbable.\n\nTo suppose the soul to think, and the man not to perceive it, is, as\nhas been said, to make two persons in one man. And if one considers\nwell these men\u2019s way of speaking, one should be led into a suspicion\nthat they do so. For those who tell us that the SOUL always thinks, do\nnever, that I remember, say that a MAN always thinks. Can the soul\nthink, and not the man? Or a man think, and not be conscious of it?\nThis, perhaps, would be suspected of jargon in others. If they say the\nman thinks always, but is not always conscious of it, they may as well\nsay his body is extended without having parts. For it is altogether as\nintelligible to say that a body is extended without parts, as that\nanything thinks without being conscious of it, or perceiving that it\ndoes so. They who talk thus may, with as much reason, if it be\nnecessary to their hypothesis, say that a man is always hungry, but\nthat he does not always feel it; whereas hunger consists in that very\nsensation, as thinking consists in being conscious that one thinks. If\nthey say that a man is always conscious to himself of thinking, I ask,\nHow they know it? Consciousness is the perception of what passes in a\nman\u2019s own mind. Can another man perceive that I am conscious of\nanything, when I perceive it not myself? No man\u2019s knowledge here can go\nbeyond his experience. Wake a man out of a sound sleep, and ask him\nwhat he was that moment thinking of. If he himself be conscious of\nnothing he then thought on, he must be a notable diviner of thoughts\nthat can assure him that he was thinking. May he not, with more reason,\nassure him he was not asleep? This is something beyond philosophy; and\nit cannot be less than revelation, that discovers to another thoughts\nin my mind, when I can find none there myself. And they must needs have\na penetrating sight who can certainly see that I think, when I cannot\nperceive it myself, and when I declare that I do not; and yet can see\nthat dogs or elephants do not think, when they give all the\ndemonstration of it imaginable, except only telling us that they do so.\nThis some may suspect to be a step beyond the Rosicrucians; it seeming\neasier to make one\u2019s self invisible to others, than to make another\u2019s\nthoughts visible to me, which are not visible to himself. But it is but\ndefining the soul to be \u201ca substance that always thinks,\u201d and the\nbusiness is done. If such definition be of any authority, I know not\nwhat it can serve for but to make many men suspect that they have no\nsouls at all; since they find a good part of their lives pass away\nwithout thinking. For no definitions that I know, no suppositions of\nany sect, are of force enough to destroy constant experience; and\nperhaps it is the affectation of knowing beyond what we perceive, that\nmakes so much useless dispute and noise in the world.\n\n20. No ideas but from Sensation and Reflection, evident, if we observe\nChildren.\n\nI see no reason, therefore, to believe that the soul thinks before the\nsenses have furnished it with ideas to think on; and as those are\nincreased and retained, so it comes, by exercise, to improve its\nfaculty of thinking in the several parts of it; as well as, afterwards,\nby compounding those ideas, and reflecting on its own operations, it\nincreases its stock, as well as facility in remembering, imagining,\nreasoning, and other modes of thinking.\n\n21. State of a child in the mother\u2019s womb.\n\nHe that will suffer himself to be informed by observation and\nexperience, and not make his own hypothesis the rule of nature, will\nfind few signs of a soul accustomed to much thinking in a new-born\nchild, and much fewer of any reasoning at all. And yet it is hard to\nimagine that the rational soul should think so much, and not reason at\nall. And he that will consider that infants newly come into the world\nspend the greatest part of their time in sleep, and are seldom awake\nbut when either hunger calls for the teat, or some pain (the most\nimportunate of all sensations), or some other violent impression on the\nbody, forces the mind to perceive and attend to it;\u2014he, I say, who\nconsiders this, will perhaps find reason to imagine that a F\u0153tus in the\nmother\u2019s womb differs not much from the state of a vegetable, but\npasses the greatest part of its time without perception or thought;\ndoing very little but sleep in a place where it needs not seek for\nfood, and is surrounded with liquor, always equally soft, and near of\nthe same temper; where the eyes have no light, and the ears so shut up\nare not very susceptible of sounds; and where there is little or no\nvariety, or change of objects, to move the senses.\n\n22. The mind thinks in proportion to the matter it gets from experience\nto think about.\n\nFollow a child from its birth, and observe the alterations that time\nmakes, and you shall find, as the mind by the senses comes more and\nmore to be furnished with ideas, it comes to be more and more awake;\nthinks more, the more it has matter to think on. After some time it\nbegins to know the objects which, being most familiar with it, have\nmade lasting impressions. Thus it comes by degrees to know the persons\nit daily converses with, and distinguishes them from strangers; which\nare instances and effects of its coming to retain and distinguish the\nideas the senses convey to it. And so we may observe how the mind, BY\nDEGREES, improves in these; and ADVANCES to the exercise of those other\nfaculties of enlarging, compounding, and abstracting its ideas, and of\nreasoning about them, and reflecting upon all these; of which I shall\nhave occasion to speak more hereafter.\n\n23. A man begins to have ideas when he first has sensation. What\nsensation is.\n\nIf it shall be demanded then, WHEN a man BEGINS to have any ideas, I\nthink the true answer is,\u2014WHEN HE FIRST HAS ANY SENSATION. For, since\nthere appear not to be any ideas in the mind before the senses have\nconveyed any in, I conceive that ideas in the understanding are coeval\nwith SENSATION; WHICH IS SUCH AN IMPRESSION OR MOTION MADE IN SOME PART\nOF THE BODY, AS MAKES IT BE TAKEN NOTICE OF IN THE UNDERSTANDING.\n\n24. The Original of all our Knowledge.\n\nThe impressions then that are made on our sense by outward objects that\nare extrinsical to the mind; and its own operations about these\nimpressions, reflected on by itself, as proper objects to be\ncontemplated by it, are, I conceive, the original of all knowledge.\nThus the first capacity of human intellect is,\u2014that the mind is fitted\nto receive the impressions made on it; either through the senses by\noutward objects, or by its own operations when it reflects on them.\nThis is the first step a man makes towards the discovery of anything,\nand the groundwork whereon to build all those notions which ever he\nshall have naturally in this world. All those sublime thoughts which\ntower above the clouds, and reach as high as heaven itself, take their\nrise and footing here: in all that great extent wherein the mind\nwanders, in those remote speculations it may seem to be elevated with,\nit stirs not one jot beyond those ideas which SENSE or REFLECTION have\noffered for its contemplation.\n\n25. In the Reception of simple Ideas, the Understanding is for the most\npart passive.\n\nIn this part the understanding is merely passive; and whether or no it\nwill have these beginnings, and as it were materials of knowledge, is\nnot in its own power. For the objects of our senses do, many of them,\nobtrude their particular ideas upon our minds whether we will or not;\nand the operations of our minds will not let us be without, at least,\nsome obscure notions of them. No man can be wholly ignorant of what he\ndoes when he thinks. These simple ideas, when offered to the mind, the\nunderstanding can no more refuse to have, nor alter when they are\nimprinted, nor blot them out and make new ones itself, than a mirror\ncan refuse, alter, or obliterate the images or ideas which the objects\nset before it do therein produce. As the bodies that surround us do\ndiversely affect our organs, the mind is forced to receive the\nimpressions; and cannot avoid the perception of those ideas that are\nannexed to them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\nOF SIMPLE IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Uncompounded Appearances.\n\nThe better to understand the nature, manner, and extent of our\nknowledge, one thing is carefully to be observed concerning the ideas\nwe have; and that is, that some of them, are SIMPLE and some COMPLEX.\n\nThough the qualities that affect our senses are, in the things\nthemselves, so united and blended, that there is no separation, no\ndistance between them; yet it is plain, the ideas they produce in the\nmind enter by the senses simple; and unmixed. For, though the sight and\ntouch often take in from the same object, at the same time, different\nideas;\u2014as a man sees at once motion and colour; the hand feels softness\nand warmth in the same piece of wax: yet the simple ideas thus united\nin the same subject, are as perfectly distinct as those that come in by\ndifferent senses. The coldness and hardness which a man feels in a\npiece of ice being as distinct ideas in the mind as the smell and\nwhiteness of a lily; or as the taste of sugar, and smell of a rose. And\nthere is nothing can be plainer to a man than the clear and distinct\nperception he has of those simple ideas; which, being each in itself\nuncompounded, contains in it nothing but ONE UNIFORM APPEARANCE, OR\nCONCEPTION IN THE MIND, and is not distinguishable into different\nideas.\n\n2. The Mind can neither make nor destroy them.\n\nThese simple ideas, the materials of all our knowledge, are suggested\nand furnished to the mind only by those two ways above mentioned, viz.\nsensation and reflection. When the understanding is once stored with\nthese simple ideas, it has the power to repeat, compare, and unite\nthem, even to an almost infinite variety, and so can make at pleasure\nnew complex ideas. But it is not in the power of the most exalted wit,\nor enlarged understanding, by any quickness or variety of thought, to\nINVENT or FRAME one new simple idea in the mind, not taken in by the\nways before mentioned: nor can any force of the understanding DESTROY\nthose that are there. The dominion of man, in this little world of his\nown understanding being much what the same as it is in the great world\nof visible things; wherein his power, however managed by art and skill,\nreaches no farther than to compound and divide the materials that are\nmade to his hand; but can do nothing towards the making the least\nparticle of new matter, or destroying one atom of what is already in\nbeing. The same inability will every one find in himself, who shall go\nabout to fashion in his understanding one simple idea, not received in\nby his senses from external objects, or by reflection from the\noperations of his own mind about them. I would have any one try to\nfancy any taste which had never affected his palate; or frame the idea\nof a scent he had never smelt: and when he can do this, I will also\nconclude that a blind man hath ideas of colours, and a deaf man true\ndistinct notions of sounds.\n\n3. Only the qualities that affect the senses are imaginable.\n\nThis is the reason why\u2014though we cannot believe it impossible to God to\nmake a creature with other organs, and more ways to convey into the\nunderstanding the notice of corporeal things than those five, as they\nare usually counted, which he has given to man\u2014yet I think it is not\npossible for any MAN to imagine any other qualities in bodies,\nhowsoever constituted, whereby they can be taken notice of, besides\nsounds, tastes, smells, visible and tangible qualities. And had mankind\nbeen made but with four senses, the qualities then which are the\nobjects of the fifth sense had been as far from our notice,\nimagination, and conception, as now any belonging to a sixth, seventh,\nor eighth sense can possibly be;\u2014which, whether yet some other\ncreatures, in some other parts of this vast and stupendous universe,\nmay not have, will be a great presumption to deny. He that will not set\nhimself proudly at the top of all things, but will consider the\nimmensity of this fabric, and the great variety that is to be found in\nthis little and inconsiderable part of it which he has to do with, may\nbe apt to think that, in other mansions of it, there may be other and\ndifferent intelligent beings, of whose faculties he has as little\nknowledge or apprehension as a worm shut up in one drawer of a cabinet\nhath of the senses or understanding of a man; such variety and\nexcellency being suitable to the wisdom and power of the Maker. I have\nhere followed the common opinion of man\u2019s having but five senses;\nthough, perhaps, there may be justly counted more;\u2014but either\nsupposition serves equally to my present purpose.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\nOF SIMPLE IDEAS OF SENSE.\n\n\n1. Division of simple ideas.\n\nThe better to conceive the ideas we receive from sensation, it may not\nbe amiss for us to consider them, in reference to the different ways\nwhereby they make their approaches to our minds, and make themselves\nperceivable by us.\n\nFIRST, then, There are some which come into our minds BY ONE SENSE\nONLY.\n\nSECONDLY, There are others that convey themselves into the mind BY MORE\nSENSES THAN ONE.\n\nTHIRDLY, Others that are had from REFLECTION ONLY.\n\nFOURTHLY, There are some that make themselves way, and are suggested to\nthe mind BY ALL THE WAYS OF SENSATION AND REFLECTION.\n\nWe shall consider them apart under these several heads.\n\nIdeas of one Sense.\n\nThere are some ideas which have admittance only through one sense,\nwhich is peculiarly adapted to receive them. Thus light and colours, as\nwhite, red, yellow, blue; with their several degrees or shades and\nmixtures, as green, scarlet, purple, sea-green, and the rest, come in\nonly by the eyes. All kinds of noises, sounds, and tones, only by the\nears. The several tastes and smells, by the nose and palate. And if\nthese organs, or the nerves which are the conduits to convey them from\nwithout to their audience in the brain,\u2014the mind\u2019s presence-room (as I\nmay so call it)\u2014are any of them so disordered as not to perform their\nfunctions, they have no postern to be admitted by; no other way to\nbring themselves into view, and be perceived by the understanding.\n\nThe most considerable of those belonging to the touch, are heat and\ncold, and solidity: all the rest, consisting almost wholly in the\nsensible configuration, as smooth and rough; or else, more or less firm\nadhesion of the parts, as hard and soft, tough and brittle, are obvious\nenough.\n\n2. Few simple Ideas have Names.\n\nI think it will be needless to enumerate all the particular simple\nideas belonging to each sense. Nor indeed is it possible if we would;\nthere being a great many more of them belonging to most of the senses\nthan we have names for. The variety of smells, which are as many\nalmost, if not more, than species of bodies in the world, do most of\nthem want names. Sweet and stinking commonly serve our turn for these\nideas, which in effect is little more than to call them pleasing or\ndispleasing; though the smell of a rose and violet, both sweet, are\ncertainly very distinct ideas. Nor are the different tastes, that by\nour palates we receive ideas of, much better provided with names.\nSweet, bitter, sour, harsh, and salt are almost all the epithets we\nhave to denominate that numberless variety of relishes, which are to be\nfound distinct, not only in almost every sort of creatures, but in the\ndifferent parts of the same plant, fruit, or animal. The same may be\nsaid of colours and sounds. I shall, therefore, in the account of\nsimple ideas I am here giving, content myself to set down only such as\nare most material to our present purpose, or are in themselves less apt\nto be taken notice of though they are very frequently the ingredients\nof our complex ideas; amongst which, I think, I may well account\nsolidity, which therefore I shall treat of in the next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\nIDEA OF SOLIDITY.\n\n\n1. We receive this Idea from Touch.\n\nThe idea of SOLIDITY we receive by our touch: and it arises from the\nresistance which we find in body to the entrance of any other body into\nthe place it possesses, till it has left it. There is no idea which we\nreceive more constantly from sensation than solidity. Whether we move\nor rest, in what posture soever we are, we always feel something under\nus that supports us, and hinders our further sinking downwards; and the\nbodies which we daily handle make us perceive that, whilst they remain\nbetween them, they do, by an insurmountable force, hinder the approach\nof the parts of our hands that press them. THAT WHICH THUS HINDERS THE\nAPPROACH OF TWO BODIES, WHEN THEY ARE MOVED ONE TOWARDS ANOTHER, I CALL\nSOLIDITY. I will not dispute whether this acceptation of the word solid\nbe nearer to its original signification than that which mathematicians\nuse it in. It suffices that I think the common notion of solidity will\nallow, if not justify, this use of it; but if any one think it better\nto call it IMPENETRABILITY, he has my consent. Only I have thought the\nterm solidity the more proper to express this idea, not only because of\nits vulgar use in that sense, but also because it carries something\nmore of positive in it than impenetrability; which is negative, and is\nperhaps more a consequence of solidity, than solidity itself. This, of\nall other, seems the idea most intimately connected with, and essential\nto body; so as nowhere else to be found or imagined, but only in\nmatter. And though our senses take no notice of it, but in masses of\nmatter, of a bulk sufficient to cause a sensation in us: yet the mind,\nhaving once got this idea from such grosser sensible bodies, traces it\nfurther, and considers it, as well as figure, in the minutest particle\nof matter that can exist; and finds it inseparably inherent in body,\nwherever or however modified.\n\n2. Solidity fills Space.\n\nThis is the idea which belongs to body, whereby we conceive it to fill\nspace. The idea of which filling of space is,\u2014that where we imagine any\nspace taken up by a solid substance, we conceive it so to possess it,\nthat it excludes all other solid substances; and will for ever hinder\nany other two bodies, that move towards one another in a straight line,\nfrom coming to touch one another, unless it removes from between them\nin a line not parallel to that which they move in. This idea of it, the\nbodies which we ordinarily handle sufficiently furnish us with.\n\n3. Distinct from Space.\n\nThis resistance, whereby it keeps other bodies out of the space which\nit possesses, is so great, that no force, how great soever, can\nsurmount it. All the bodies in the world, pressing a drop of water on\nall sides, will never be able to overcome the resistance which it will\nmake, soft as it is, to their approaching one another, till it be\nremoved out of their way: whereby our idea of solidity is distinguished\nboth from pure space, which is capable neither of resistance nor\nmotion; and from the ordinary idea of hardness. For a man may conceive\ntwo bodies at a distance, so as they may approach one another, without\ntouching or displacing any solid thing, till their superficies come to\nmeet; whereby, I think, we have the clear idea of space without\nsolidity. For (not to go so far as annihilation of any particular body)\nI ask, whether a man cannot have the idea of the motion of one single\nbody alone, without any other succeeding immediately into its place? I\nthink it is evident he can: the idea of motion in one body no more\nincluding the idea of motion in another, than the idea of a square\nfigure in one body includes the idea of a square figure in another. I\ndo not ask, whether bodies do so EXIST, that the motion of one body\ncannot really be without the motion of another. To determine this\neither way, is to beg the question for or against a VACUUM. But my\nquestion is,\u2014whether one cannot have the IDEA of one body moved, whilst\nothers are at rest? And I think this no one will deny. If so, then the\nplace it deserted gives us the idea of pure space without solidity;\nwhereinto any other body may enter, without either resistance or\nprotrusion of anything. When the sucker in a pump is drawn, the space\nit filled in the tube is certainly the same whether any other body\nfollows the motion of the sucker or not: nor does it imply a\ncontradiction that, upon the motion of one body, another that is only\ncontiguous to it should not follow it. The necessity of such a motion\nis built only on the supposition that the world is full; but not on the\ndistinct IDEAS of space and solidity, which are as different as\nresistance and not resistance, protrusion and not protrusion. And that\nmen have ideas of space without a body, their very disputes about a\nvacuum plainly demonstrate, as is shown in another place.\n\n4. From Hardness.\n\nSolidity is hereby also differenced from hardness, in that solidity\nconsists in repletion, and so an utter exclusion of other bodies out of\nthe space it possesses: but hardness, in a firm cohesion of the parts\nof matter, making up masses of a sensible bulk, so that the whole does\nnot easily change its figure. And indeed, hard and soft are names that\nwe give to things only in relation to the constitutions of our own\nbodies; that being generally called hard by us, which will put us to\npain sooner than change figure by the pressure of any part of our\nbodies; and that, on the contrary, soft, which changes the situation of\nits parts upon an easy and unpainful touch.\n\nBut this difficulty of changing the situation of the sensible parts\namongst themselves, or of the figure of the whole, gives no more\nsolidity to the hardest body in the world than to the softest; nor is\nan adamant one jot more solid than water. For, though the two flat\nsides of two pieces of marble will more easily approach each other,\nbetween which there is nothing but water or air, than if there be a\ndiamond between them; yet it is not that the parts of the diamond are\nmore solid than those of water, or resist more; but because the parts\nof water, being more easily separable from each other, they will, by a\nside motion, be more easily removed, and give way to the approach of\nthe two pieces of marble. But if they could be kept from making place\nby that side motion, they would eternally hinder the approach of these\ntwo pieces of marble, as much as the diamond; and it would be as\nimpossible by any force to surmount their resistance, as to surmount\nthe resistance of the parts of a diamond. The softest body in the world\nwill as invincibly resist the coming together of any other two bodies,\nif it be not put out of the way, but remain between them, as the\nhardest that can be found or imagined. He that shall fill a yielding\nsoft body well with air or water, will quickly find its resistance. And\nhe that thinks that nothing but bodies that are hard can keep his hands\nfrom approaching one another, may be pleased to make a trial, with the\nair inclosed in a football. The experiment, I have been told, was made\nat Florence, with a hollow globe of gold filled with water, and exactly\nclosed; which further shows the solidity of so soft a body as water.\nFor the golden globe thus filled, being put into a press, which was\ndriven by the extreme force of screws, the water made itself way\nthrough the pores of that very close metal, and finding no room for a\nnearer approach of its particles within, got to the outside, where it\nrose like a dew, and so fell in drops, before the sides of the globe\ncould be made to yield to the violent compression of the engine that\nsqueezed it.\n\n5. On Solidity depend Impulse, Resistance and Protrusion.\n\nBy this idea of solidity is the extension of body distinguished from\nthe extension of space:\u2014the extension of body being nothing but the\ncohesion or continuity of solid, separable, movable parts; and the\nextension of space, the continuity of unsolid, inseparable, and\nimmovable parts. Upon the solidity of bodies also depend their mutual\nimpulse, resistance, and protrusion. Of pure space then, and solidity,\nthere are several (amongst which I confess myself one) who persuade\nthemselves they have clear and distinct ideas; and that they can think\non space, without anything in it that resists or is protruded by body.\nThis is the idea of pure space, which they think they have as clear as\nany idea they can have of the extension of body: the idea of the\ndistance between the opposite parts of a concave superficies being\nequally as clear without as with the idea of any solid parts between:\nand on the other side, they persuade themselves that they have,\ndistinct from that of pure space, the idea of SOMETHING THAT FILLS\nSPACE, that can be protruded by the impulse of other bodies, or resist\ntheir motion. If there be others that have not these two ideas\ndistinct, but confound them, and make but one of them, I know not how\nmen, who have the same idea under different names, or different ideas\nunder the same name, can in that case talk with one another; any more\nthan a man who, not being blind or deaf, has distinct ideas of the\ncolour of scarlet and the sound of a trumpet, could discourse\nconcerning scarlet colour with the blind man I mentioned in another\nplace, who fancied that the idea of scarlet was like the sound of a\ntrumpet.\n\n6. What Solidity is.\n\nIf any one asks me, WHAT THIS SOLIDITY IS, I send him to his senses to\ninform him. Let him put a flint or a football between his hands, and\nthen endeavour to join them, and he will know. If he thinks this not a\nsufficient explication of solidity, what it is, and wherein it\nconsists; I promise to tell him what it is, and wherein it consists,\nwhen he tells me what thinking is, or wherein it consists; or explains\nto me what extension or motion is, which perhaps seems much easier. The\nsimple ideas we have, are such as experience teaches them us; but if,\nbeyond that, we endeavour by words to make them clearer in the mind, we\nshall succeed no better than if we went about to clear up the darkness\nof a blind man\u2019s mind by talking; and to discourse into him the ideas\nof light and colours. The reason of this I shall show in another place.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\nOF SIMPLE IDEAS OF DIVERS SENSES.\n\n\nIdeas received both by seeing and touching.\n\nThe ideas we get by more than one sense are, of SPACE or EXTENSION,\nFIGURE, REST, and MOTION. For these make perceivable impressions, both\non the eyes and touch; and we can receive and convey into our minds the\nideas of the extension, figure, motion, and rest of bodies, both by\nseeing and feeling. But having occasion to speak more at large of these\nin another place, I here only enumerate them.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\nOF SIMPLE IDEAS OF REFLECTION.\n\n\nSimple Ideas are the Operations of Mind about its other Ideas.\n\nThe mind receiving the ideas mentioned in the foregoing chapters from\nwithout, when it turns its view inward upon itself, and observes its\nown actions about those ideas it has, takes from thence other ideas,\nwhich are as capable to be the objects of its contemplation as any of\nthose it received from foreign things.\n\nThe Idea of Perception, and Idea of Willing, we have from Reflection.\n\nThe two great and principal actions of the mind, which are most\nfrequently considered, and which are so frequent that every one that\npleases may take notice of them in himself, are these two:\u2014\n\nPERCEPTION, or THINKING; and VOLITION, or WILLING.\n\nThe power of thinking is called the UNDERSTANDING, and the power of\nvolition is called the WILL; and these two powers or abilities in the\nmind are denominated faculties.\n\nOf some of the MODES of these simple ideas of reflection, such as are\nREMEMBRANCE, DISCERNING, REASONING, JUDGING, KNOWLEDGE, FAITH, &c., I\nshall have occasion to speak hereafter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\nOF SIMPLE IDEAS OF BOTH SENSATION AND REFLECTION.\n\n\n1. Ideas of Pleasure and Pain.\n\nThere be other simple ideas which convey themselves into the mind by\nall the ways of sensation and reflection, _viz_.\n\n_Pleasure_ or _Delight_, and its opposite,\n_Pain_, or _Uneasiness;_\n_Power;_\n_Existence;_\n_Unity_ mix with almost all our other Ideas.\n\n\n2. Delight or uneasiness, one or other of them, join themselves to\nalmost all our ideas both of sensation and reflection: and there is\nscarce any affection of our senses from without, any retired thought of\nour mind within, which is not able to produce in us pleasure or pain.\nBy pleasure and pain, I would be understood to signify, whatsoever\ndelights or molests us; whether it arises from the thoughts of our\nminds, or anything operating on our bodies. For, whether we call it;\nsatisfaction, delight, pleasure, happiness, &c., on the one side, or\nuneasiness, trouble, pain, torment, anguish, misery, &c., the other,\nthey are still but different degrees of the same thing, and belong to\nthe ideas of pleasure and pain, delight or uneasiness; which are the\nnames I shall most commonly use for those two sorts of ideas.\n\n3. As motives of our actions.\n\nThe infinite wise Author of our being, having given us the power over\nseveral parts of our bodies, to move or keep them at rest as we think\nfit; and also, by the motion of them, to move ourselves and other\ncontiguous bodies, in which consist all the actions of our body: having\nalso given a power to our minds, in several instances, to choose,\namongst its ideas, which it will think on, and to pursue the inquiry of\nthis or that subject with consideration and attention, to excite us to\nthese actions of thinking and motion that we are capable of,\u2014has been\npleased to join to several thoughts, and several sensations a\nperception of delight. If this were wholly separated from all our\noutward sensations, and inward thoughts, we should have no reason to\nprefer one thought or action to another; negligence to attention, or\nmotion to rest. And so we should neither stir our bodies, nor employ\nour minds, but let our thoughts (if I may so call it) run adrift,\nwithout any direction or design, and suffer the ideas of our minds,\nlike unregarded shadows, to make their appearances there, as it\nhappened, without attending to them. In which state man, however\nfurnished with the faculties of understanding and will, would be a very\nidle, inactive creature, and pass his time only in a lazy, lethargic\ndream. It has therefore pleased our wise Creator to annex to several\nobjects, and the ideas which we receive from them, as also to several\nof our thoughts, a concomitant pleasure, and that in several objects,\nto several degrees, that those faculties which he had endowed us with\nmight not remain wholly idle and unemployed by us.\n\n4. An end and use of pain.\n\nPain has the same efficacy and use to set us on work that pleasure has,\nwe being as ready to employ our faculties to avoid that, as to pursue\nthis: only this is worth our consideration, that pain is often produced\nby the same objects and ideas that produce pleasure in us. This their\nnear conjunction, which makes us often feel pain in the sensations\nwhere we expected pleasure, gives us new occasion of admiring the\nwisdom and goodness of our Maker, who, designing the preservation of\nour being, has annexed pain to the application of many things to our\nbodies, to warn us of the harm that they will do, and as advices to\nwithdraw from them. But he, not designing our preservation barely, but\nthe preservation of every part and organ in its perfection, hath in\nmany cases annexed pain to those very ideas which delight us. Thus\nheat, that is very agreeable to us in one degree, by a little greater\nincrease of it proves no ordinary torment: and the most pleasant of all\nsensible objects, light itself, if there be too much of it, if\nincreased beyond a due proportion to our eyes, causes a very painful\nsensation. Which is wisely and favourably so ordered by nature, that\nwhen any object does, by the vehemency of its operation, disorder the\ninstruments of sensation, whose structures cannot but be very nice and\ndelicate, we might, by the pain, be warned to withdraw, before the\norgan be quite put out of order, and so be unfitted for its proper\nfunction for the future. The consideration of those objects that\nproduce it may well persuade us, that this is the end or use of pain.\nFor, though great light be insufferable to our eyes, yet the highest\ndegree of darkness does not at all disease them: because that, causing\nno disorderly motion in it, leaves that curious organ unharmed in its\nnatural state. But yet excess of cold as well as heat pains us: because\nit is equally destructive to that temper which is necessary to the\npreservation of life, and the exercise of the several functions of the\nbody, and which consists in a moderate degree of warmth; or, if you\nplease, a motion of the insensible parts of our bodies, confined within\ncertain bounds.\n\n5. Another end.\n\nBeyond all this, we may find another reason why God hath scattered up\nand down several degrees of pleasure and pain, in all the things that\nenviron and affect us; and blended them together in almost all that our\nthoughts and senses have to do with;\u2014that we, finding imperfection,\ndissatisfaction, and want of complete happiness, in all the enjoyments\nwhich the creatures can afford us, might be led to seek it in the\nenjoyment of Him with whom there is fullness of joy, and at whose right\nhand are pleasures for evermore.\n\n6. Goodness of God in annexing pleasure and pain to our other ideas.\n\nThough what I have here said may not, perhaps, make the ideas of\npleasure and pain clearer to us than our own experience does, which is\nthe only way that we are capable of having them; yet the consideration\nof the reason why they are annexed to so many other ideas, serving to\ngive us due sentiments of the wisdom and goodness of the Sovereign\nDisposer of all things, may not be unsuitable to the main end of these\ninquiries: the knowledge and veneration of him being the chief end of\nall our thoughts, and the proper business of all understandings.\n\n7. Ideas of Existence and Unity.\n\nEXISTENCE and UNITY are two other ideas that are suggested to the\nunderstanding by every object without, and every idea within. When\nideas are in our minds, we consider them as being actually there, as\nwell as we consider things to be actually without us;\u2014which is, that\nthey exist, or have existence. And whatever we can consider as one\nthing, whether a real being or idea, suggests to the understanding the\nidea of unity.\n\n8. Idea of Power.\n\nPOWER also is another of those simple ideas which we receive from\nsensation and reflection. For, observing in ourselves that we do and\ncan think, and that we can at pleasure move several parts of our bodies\nwhich were at rest; the effects, also, that natural bodies are able to\nproduce in one another, occurring every moment to our senses,\u2014we both\nthese ways get the idea of power.\n\n9. Idea of Succession.\n\nBesides these there is another idea, which, though suggested by our\nsenses, yet is more constantly offered to us by what passes in our\nminds; and that is the idea of SUCCESSION. For if we look immediately\ninto ourselves, and reflect on what is observable there, we shall find\nour ideas always, whilst we are awake, or have any thought, passing in\ntrain, one going and another coming, without intermission.\n\n10. Simple Ideas the materials of all our Knowledge.\n\nThese, if they are not all, are at least (as I think) the most\nconsiderable of those simple ideas which the mind has, out of which is\nmade all its other knowledge; all which it receives only by the two\nforementioned ways of sensation and reflection.\n\nNor let any one think these too narrow bounds for the capacious mind of\nman to expatiate in, which takes its flight further than the stars, and\ncannot be confined by the limits of the world; that extends its\nthoughts often even beyond the utmost expansion of Matter, and makes\nexcursions into that incomprehensible Inane. I grant all this, but\ndesire any one to assign any SIMPLE IDEA which is not received from one\nof those inlets before mentioned, or any COMPLEX IDEA not made out of\nthose simple ones. Nor will it be so strange to think these few simple\nideas sufficient to employ the quickest thought, or largest capacity;\nand to furnish the materials of all that various knowledge, and more\nvarious fancies and opinions of all mankind, if we consider how many\nwords may be made out of the various composition of twenty-four\nletters; or if, going one step further, we will but reflect on the\nvariety of combinations that may be made with barely one of the\nabove-mentioned ideas, viz. number, whose stock is inexhaustible and\ntruly infinite: and what a large and immense field doth extension alone\nafford the mathematicians?\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VIII.\nSOME FURTHER CONSIDERATIONS CONCERNING OUR SIMPLE IDEAS OF SENSATION.\n\n\n1. Positive Ideas from privative causes.\n\nConcerning the simple ideas of Sensation; it is to be considered,\u2014that\nwhatsoever is so constituted in nature as to be able, by affecting our\nsenses, to cause any perception in the mind, doth thereby produce in\nthe understanding a simple idea; which, whatever be the external cause\nof it, when it comes to be taken notice of by our discerning faculty,\nit is by the mind looked on and considered there to be a real positive\nidea in the understanding, as much as any other whatsoever; though,\nperhaps, the cause of it be but a privation of the subject.\n\n2. Ideas in the mind distinguished from that in things which gives rise\nto them.\n\nThus the ideas of heat and cold, light and darkness, white and black,\nmotion and rest, are equally clear and positive ideas in the mind;\nthough, perhaps, some of the causes which produce them are barely\nprivations, in those subjects from whence our senses derive those\nideas. These the understanding, in its view of them, considers all as\ndistinct positive ideas, without taking notice of the causes that\nproduce them: which is an inquiry not belonging to the idea, as it is\nin the understanding, but to the nature of the things existing without\nus. These are two very different things, and carefully to be\ndistinguished; it being one thing to perceive and know the idea of\nwhite or black, and quite another to examine what kind of particles\nthey must be, and how ranged in the superficies, to make any object\nappear white or black.\n\n3. We may have the ideas when we are ignorant of their physical causes.\n\nA painter or dyer who never inquired into their causes hath the ideas\nof white and black, and other colours, as clearly, perfectly, and\ndistinctly in his understanding, and perhaps more distinctly, than the\nphilosopher who hath busied himself in considering their natures, and\nthinks he knows how far either of them is, in its cause, positive or\nprivative; and the idea of black is no less positive in his mind than\nthat of white, however the cause of that colour in the external object\nmay be only a privation.\n\n4. Why a privative cause in nature may occasion a positive idea.\n\nIf it were the design of my present undertaking to inquire into the\nnatural causes and manner of perception, I should offer this as a\nreason why a privative cause might, in some cases at least, produce a\npositive idea; viz. that all sensation being produced in us only by\ndifferent degrees and modes of motion in our animal spirits, variously\nagitated by external objects, the abatement of any former motion must\nas necessarily produce a new sensation as the variation or increase of\nit; and so introduce a new idea, which depends only on a different\nmotion of the animal spirits in that organ.\n\n5. Negative names need not be meaningless.\n\nBut whether this be so or not I will not here determine, but appeal to\nevery one\u2019s own experience, whether the shadow of a man, though it\nconsists of nothing but the absence of light (and the more the absence\nof light is, the more discernible is the shadow) does not, when a man\nlooks on it, cause as clear and positive idea in his mind, as a man\nhimself, though covered over with clear sunshine? And the picture of a\nshadow is a positive thing. Indeed, we have negative names, to which\nthere be no positive ideas; but they consist wholly in negation of some\ncertain ideas, as SILENCE, INVISIBLE; but these signify not any ideas\nin the mind but their absence.\n\n6. Whether any ideas are due to causes really private.\n\nAnd thus one may truly be said to see darkness. For, supposing a hole\nperfectly dark, from whence no light is reflected, it is certain one\nmay see the figure of it, or it may be painted; or whether the ink I\nwrite with makes any other idea, is a question. The privative causes I\nhave here assigned of positive ideas are according to the common\nopinion; but, in truth, it will be hard to determine whether there be\nreally any ideas from a privative cause, till it be determined, whether\nrest be any more a privation than motion.\n\n7. Ideas in the Mind, Qualities in Bodies.\n\nTo discover the nature of our IDEAS the better, and to discourse of\nthem intelligibly, it will be convenient to distinguish them AS THEY\nARE IDEAS OR PERCEPTIONS IN OUR MINDS; and AS THEY ARE MODIFICATIONS OF\nMATTER IN THE BODIES THAT CAUSE SUCH PERCEPTIONS IN US: that so we may\nnot think (as perhaps usually is done) that they are exactly the images\nand resemblances of something inherent in the subject; most of those of\nsensation being in the mind no more the likeness of something existing\nwithout us, than the names that stand for them are the likeness of our\nideas, which yet upon hearing they are apt to excite in us.\n\n8. Our Ideas and the Qualities of Bodies.\n\nWhatsoever the mind perceives IN ITSELF, or is the immediate object of\nperception, thought, or understanding, that I call IDEA; and the power\nto produce any idea in our mind, I call QUALITY of the subject wherein\nthat power is. Thus a snowball having the power to produce in us the\nideas of white, cold, and round,\u2014the power to produce those ideas in\nus, as they are in the snowball, I call qualities; and as they are\nsensations or perceptions in our understandings, I call them ideas;\nwhich IDEAS, if I speak of sometimes as in the things themselves, I\nwould be understood to mean those qualities in the objects which\nproduce them in us.\n\n9. Primary Qualities of Bodies.\n\nConcerning these qualities, we, I think, observe these primary ones in\nbodies that produce simple ideas in us, viz. SOLIDITY, EXTENSION,\nMOTION or REST, NUMBER or FIGURE. These, which I call ORIGINAL or\nPRIMARY qualities of body, are wholly inseparable from it; and such as\nin all the alterations and changes it suffers, all the force can be\nused upon it, it constantly keeps; and such as sense constantly finds\nin every particle of matter which has bulk enough to be perceived; and\nthe mind finds inseparable from every particle of matter, though less\nthan to make itself singly be perceived by our senses: v.g. Take a\ngrain of wheat, divide it into two parts; each part has still solidity,\nextension, figure, and mobility: divide it again, and it retains still\nthe same qualities; and so divide it on, till the parts become\ninsensible; they must retain still each of them all those qualities.\nFor division (which is all that a mill, or pestle, or any other body,\ndoes upon another, in reducing it to insensible parts) can never take\naway either solidity, extension, figure, or mobility from any body, but\nonly makes two or more distinct separate masses of matter, of that\nwhich was but one before; all which distinct masses, reckoned as so\nmany distinct bodies, after division, make a certain number.\n\n10. [not in early editions]\n\n11. How Bodies produce Ideas in us.\n\nThe next thing to be considered is, how bodies operate one upon\nanother; and that is manifestly by impulse, and nothing else. It being\nimpossible to conceive that body should operate on WHAT IT DOES NOT\nTOUCH (which is all one as to imagine it can operate where it is not),\nor when it does touch, operate any other way than by motion.\n\n12. By motions, external, and in our organism.\n\nIf then external objects be not united to our minds when they produce\nideas therein; and yet we perceive these ORIGINAL qualities in such of\nthem as singly fall under our senses, it is evident that some motion\nmust be thence continued by our nerves, or animal spirits, by some\nparts of our bodies, to the brains or the seat of sensation, there to\nproduce in our minds the particular ideas we have of them. And since\nthe extension, figure, number, and motion of bodies of an observable\nbigness, may be perceived at a distance by the sight, it is evident\nsome singly imperceptible bodies must come from them; to the eyes, and\nthereby convey to the brain some motion; which produces these ideas\nwhich we have of them in us.\n\n13. How secondary Qualities produce their ideas.\n\nAfter the same manner that the ideas of these original qualities are\nproduced in us, we may conceive that the ideas of SECONDARY qualities\nare also produced, viz. by the operation of insensible particles on our\nsenses. For, it being manifest that there are bodies and good store of\nbodies, each whereof are so small, that we cannot by any of our senses\ndiscover either their bulk, figure, or motion,\u2014as is evident in the\nparticles of the air and water, and others extremely smaller than\nthose; perhaps as much smaller than the particles of air and water, as\nthe particles of air and water are smaller than peas or\nhail-stones;\u2014let us suppose at present that, the different motions and\nfigures, bulk and number, of such particles, affecting the several\norgans of our senses, produce in us those different sensations which we\nhave from the colours and smells of bodies; v.g. that a violet, by the\nimpulse of such insensible particles of matter, of peculiar figures and\nbulks, and in different degrees and modifications of their motions,\ncauses the ideas of the blue colour, and sweet scent of that flower to\nbe produced in our minds. It being no more impossible to conceive that\nGod should annex such ideas to such motions, with which they have no\nsimilitude, than that he should annex the idea of pain to the motion of\na piece of steel dividing our flesh, with which that idea hath no\nresemblance.\n\n14. They depend on the primary Qualities.\n\nWhat I have said concerning colours and smells may be understood also\nof tastes and sounds, and other the like sensible qualities; which,\nwhatever reality we by mistake attribute to them, are in truth nothing\nin the objects themselves, but powers to produce various sensations in\nus; and depend on those primary qualities, viz. bulk, figure, texture,\nand motion of parts and therefore I call them SECONDARY QUALITIES.\n\n15. Ideas of primary Qualities are Resemblances; of secondary, not.\n\nFrom whence I think it easy to draw this observation,\u2014that the ideas of\nprimary qualities of bodies are resemblances of them, and their\npatterns do really exist in the bodies themselves, but the ideas\nproduced in us by these secondary qualities have no resemblance of them\nat all. There is nothing like our ideas, existing in the bodies\nthemselves. They are, in the bodies we denominate from them, only a\npower to produce those sensations in us: and what is sweet, blue, or\nwarm in idea, is but the certain bulk, figure, and motion of the\ninsensible parts, in the bodies themselves, which we call so.\n\n16. Examples.\n\nFlame is denominated hot and light; snow, white and cold; and manna,\nwhite and sweet, from the ideas they produce in us. Which qualities are\ncommonly thought to be the same in those bodies that those ideas are in\nus, the one the perfect resemblance of the other, as they are in a\nmirror, and it would by most men be judged very extravagant if one\nshould say otherwise. And yet he that will consider that the same fire\nthat, at one distance produces in us the sensation of warmth, does, at\na nearer approach, produce in us the far different sensation of pain,\nought to bethink himself what reason he has to say\u2014that this idea of\nwarmth, which was produced in him by the fire, is ACTUALLY IN THE FIRE;\nand his idea of pain, which the same fire produced in him the same way,\nis NOT in the fire. Why are whiteness and coldness in snow, and pain\nnot, when it produces the one and the other idea in us; and can do\nneither, but by the bulk, figure, number, and motion of its solid\nparts?\n\n17. The ideas of the Primary alone really exist.\n\nThe particular bulk, number, figure, and motion of the parts of fire or\nsnow are really in them,\u2014whether any one\u2019s senses perceive them or no:\nand therefore they may be called REAL qualities, because they really\nexist in those bodies. But light, heat, whiteness, or coldness, are no\nmore really in them than sickness or pain is in manna. Take away the\nsensation of them; let not the eyes see light or colours, nor the ear\nhear sounds; let the palate not taste, nor the nose smell, and all\ncolours, tastes, odours, and sounds, AS THEY ARE SUCH PARTICULAR IDEAS,\nvanish and cease, and are reduced to their causes, i.e. bulk, figure,\nand motion of parts.\n\n18. The secondary exist in things only as modes of the primary.\n\nA piece of manna of a sensible bulk is able to produce in us the idea\nof a round or square figure; and by being removed from one place to\nanother, the idea of motion. This idea of motion represents it as it\nreally is in manna moving: a circle or square are the same, whether in\nidea or existence, in the mind or in the manna. And this, both motion\nand as figure, are really in the manna, whether we take notice of\nprimary, them or no: this everybody is ready to agree to. Besides,\nmanna, by the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of its parts, has a\npower to produce the sensations of sickness, and sometimes of acute\npains or gripings in us. That these ideas of sickness and pain are NOT\nin the manna, but effects of its operations on us, and are nowhere when\nwe feel them not; this also every one readily agrees to. And yet men\nare hardly to be brought to think that sweetness and whiteness are not\nreally in manna; which are but the effects of the operations of manna,\nby the motion, size, and figure of its particles, on the eyes and\npalate: as the pain and sickness caused by manna are confessedly\nnothing but the effects of its operations on the stomach and guts, by\nthe size, motion, and figure of its insensible parts, (for by nothing\nelse can a body operate, as has been proved): as if it could not\noperate on the eyes and palate, and thereby produce in the mind\nparticular distinct ideas, which in itself it has not, as well as we\nallow it can operate on the guts and stomach, and thereby produce\ndistinct ideas, which in itself it has not. These ideas, being all\neffects of the operations of manna on several parts of our bodies, by\nthe size, figure, number, and motion of its parts;\u2014why those produced\nby the eyes and palate should rather be thought to be really in the\nmanna, than those produced by the stomach and guts; or why the pain and\nsickness, ideas that are the effect of manna, should be thought to be\nnowhere when they are not felt; and yet the sweetness and whiteness,\neffects of the same manna on other parts of the body, by ways equally\nas unknown, should be thought to exist in the manna, when they are not\nseen or tasted, would need some reason to explain.\n\n19. Examples.\n\nLet us consider the red and white colours in porphyry. Hinder light\nfrom striking on it, and its colours vanish; it no longer produces any\nsuch ideas in us: upon the return of light it produces these\nappearances on us again. Can any one think any real alterations are\nmade in the porphyry by the presence or absence of light; and that\nthose ideas of whiteness and redness are really in porphryry in the\nlight, when it is plain IT HAS NO COLOUR IN THE DARK? It has, indeed,\nsuch a configuration of particles, both night and day, as are apt, by\nthe rays of light rebounding from some parts of that hard stone, to\nproduce in us the idea of redness, and from others the idea of\nwhiteness; but whiteness or redness are not in it at any time, but such\na texture that hath the power to produce such a sensation in us.\n\n20. Pound an almond, and the clear white colour will be altered into a\ndirty one, and the sweet taste into an oily one. What real alteration\ncan the beating of the pestle make in an body, but an alteration of the\ntexture of it?\n\n21. Explains how water felt as cold by one hand may be warm to the\nother.\n\nIdeas being thus distinguished and understood, we may be able to give\nan account how the same water, at the same time, may produce the idea\nof cold by one hand and of heat by the other: whereas it is impossible\nthat the same water, if those ideas were really in it, should at the\nsame time be both hot and cold. For, if we imagine WARMTH, as it is in\nour hands, to be nothing but a certain sort and degree of motion in the\nminute particles of our nerves or animal spirits, we may understand how\nit is possible that the same water may, at the same time, produce the\nsensations of heat in one hand and cold in the other; which yet FIGURE\nnever does, that never producing the idea of a square by one hand which\nhas produced the idea of a globe by another. But if the sensation of\nheat and cold be nothing but the increase or diminution of the motion\nof the minute parts of our bodies, caused by the corpuscles of any\nother body, it is easy to be understood, that if that motion be greater\nin one hand than in the other; if a body be applied to the two hands,\nwhich has in its minute particles a greater motion than in those of one\nof the hands, and a less than in those of the other, it will increase\nthe motion of the one hand and lessen it in the other; and so cause the\ndifferent sensations of heat and cold that depend thereon.\n\n22. An excursion into natural philosophy.\n\nI have in what just goes before been engaged in physical inquiries a\nlittle further than perhaps I intended. But, it being necessary to make\nthe nature of sensation a little understood; and to make the difference\nbetween the QUALITIES in bodies, and the IDEAS produced by them in the\nmind, to be distinctly conceived, without which it were impossible to\ndiscourse intelligibly of them;\u2014I hope I shall be pardoned this little\nexcursion into natural philosophy; it being necessary in our present\ninquiry to distinguish the PRIMARY and REAL qualities of bodies, which\nare always in them (viz. solidity, extension, figure, number, and\nmotion, or rest, and are sometimes perceived by us, viz. when the\nbodies they are in are big enough singly to be discerned), from those\nSECONDARY and IMPUTED qualities, which are but the powers of several\ncombinations of those primary ones, when they operate without being\ndistinctly discerned;\u2014whereby we may also come to know what ideas are,\nand what are not, resemblances of something really existing in the\nbodies we denominate from them.\n\n23. Three Sorts of Qualities in Bodies.\n\nThe qualities, then, that are in bodies, rightly considered are of\nthree sorts:\u2014\n\nFIRST, The bulk, figure, number, situation, and motion or rest of their\nsolid parts. Those are in them, whether we perceive them or not; and\nwhen they are of that size that we can discover them, we have by these\nan idea of the thing as it is in itself; as is plain in artificial\nthings. These I call PRIMARY QUALITIES.\n\nSECONDLY, The power that is in any body, by reason of its insensible\nprimary qualities, to operate after a peculiar manner on any of our\nsenses, and thereby produce in US the different ideas of several\ncolours, sounds, smells, tastes, &c. These are usually called SENSIBLE\nQUALITIES.\n\nTHIRDLY, The power that is in any body, by reason of the particular\nconstitution of its primary qualities, to make such a change in the\nbulk, figure, texture, and motion of ANOTHER BODY, as to make it\noperate on our senses differently from what it did before. Thus the sun\nhas a power to make wax white, and fire to make lead fluid.\n\nThe first of these, as has been said, I think may be properly called\nreal, original, or primary qualities; because they are in the things\nthemselves, whether they are perceived or not: and upon their different\nmodifications it is that the secondary qualities depend.\n\nThe other two are only powers to act differently upon other things:\nwhich powers result from the different modifications of those primary\nqualities.\n\n24. The first are Resemblances; the second thought to be Resemblances,\nbut are not, the third neither are nor are thought so.\n\nBut, though the two latter sorts of qualities are powers barely, and\nnothing but powers, relating to several other bodies, and resulting\nfrom the different modifications of the original qualities, yet they\nare generally otherwise thought of. For the SECOND sort, viz. the\npowers to produce several ideas in us, by our senses, are looked upon\nas real qualities in the things thus affecting us: but the THIRD sort\nare called and esteemed barely powers, v.g. The idea of heat or light,\nwhich we receive by our eyes, or touch, from the sun, are commonly\nthought real qualities existing in the sun, and something more than\nmere powers in it. But when we consider the sun in reference to wax,\nwhich it melts or blanches, we look on the whiteness and softness\nproduced in the wax, not as qualities in the sun, but effects produced\nby powers in it. Whereas, if rightly considered, these qualities of\nlight and warmth, which are perceptions in me when I am warmed or\nenlightened by the sun, are no otherwise in the sun, than the changes\nmade in the wax, when it is blanched or melted, are in the sun. They\nare all of them equally POWERS IN THE SUN, DEPENDING ON ITS PRIMARY\nQUALITIES; whereby it is able, in the one case, so to alter the bulk,\nfigure, texture, or motion of some of the insensible parts of my eyes\nor hands, as thereby to produce in me the idea of light or heat; and in\nthe other, it is able so to alter the bulk, figure, texture, or motion\nof the insensible parts of the wax, as to make them fit to produce in\nme the distinct ideas of white and fluid.\n\n25. Why the secondary are ordinarily taken for real Qualities and not\nfor bare Powers.\n\nThe reason why the one are ordinarily taken for real qualities, and the\nother only for bare powers, seems to be because the ideas we have of\ndistinct colours, sounds, &c. containing nothing at all in them of\nbulk, figure, or motion we are not apt to think them the effects of\nthese primary qualities; which appear not, to our senses, to operate in\ntheir production, and with which they have not any apparent congruity\nor conceivable connexion. Hence it is that we are so forward as to\nimagine, that those ideas are the resemblances of something really\nexisting in the objects themselves since sensation discovers nothing of\nbulk, figure, or motion of parts in their production; nor can reason\nshow how bodies BY THEIR BULK, FIGURE, AND MOTION, should produce in\nthe mind the ideas of blue or yellow, &c. But, in the other case in the\noperations of bodies changing the qualities one of another, we plainly\ndiscover that the quality produced hath commonly no resemblance with\nanything in the thing producing it; wherefore we look on it as a bare\neffect of power. For, through receiving the idea of heat or light from\nthe sun, we are apt to think IT is a perception and resemblance of such\na quality in the sun; yet when we see wax, or a fair face, receive\nchange of colour from the sun, we cannot imagine THAT to be the\nreception or resemblance of anything in the sun, because we find not\nthose different colours in the sun itself. For, our senses being able\nto observe a likeness or unlikeness of sensible qualities in two\ndifferent external objects, we forwardly enough conclude the production\nof any sensible quality in any subject to be an effect of bare power,\nand not the communication of any quality which was really in the\nefficient, when we find no such sensible quality in the thing that\nproduced it. But our senses, not being able to discover any unlikeness\nbetween the idea produced in us, and the quality of the object\nproducing it, we are apt to imagine that our ideas are resemblances of\nsomething in the objects, and not the effects of certain powers placed\nin the modification of their primary qualities, with which primary\nqualities the ideas produced in us have no resemblance.\n\n26. Secondary Qualities twofold; first, immediately perceivable;\nsecondly, mediately perceivable.\n\nTo conclude. Beside those before-mentioned primary qualities in bodies,\nviz. bulk, figure, extension, number, and motion of their solid parts;\nall the rest, whereby we take notice of bodies, and distinguish them\none from another, are nothing else but several powers in them,\ndepending on those primary qualities; whereby they are fitted, either\nby immediately operating on our bodies to produce several different\nideas in us; or else, by operating on other bodies, so to change their\nprimary qualities as to render them capable of producing ideas in us\ndifferent from what before they did. The former of these, I think, may\nbe called secondary qualities IMMEDIATELY PERCEIVABLE: the latter,\nsecondary qualities, MEDIATELY PERCEIVABLE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IX.\nOF PERCEPTION.\n\n\n1. Perception the first simple Idea of Reflection.\n\nPERCEPTION, as it is the first faculty of the mind exercised about our\nideas; so it is the first and simplest idea we have from reflection,\nand is by some called thinking in general. Though thinking, in the\npropriety of the English tongue, signifies that sort of operation in\nthe mind about its ideas, wherein the mind is active; where it, with\nsome degree of voluntary attention, considers anything. For in bare\nnaked perception, the mind is, for the most part, only passive; and\nwhat it perceives, it cannot avoid perceiving.\n\n2. Reflection alone can give us the idea of what perception is.\n\nWhat perception is, every one will know better by reflecting on what he\ndoes himself, when he sees, hears, feels, &c., or thinks, than by any\ndiscourse of mine. Whoever reflects on what passes in his own mind\ncannot miss it. And if he does not reflect, all the words in the world\ncannot make him have any notion of it.\n\n3. Arises in sensation only when the mind notices the organic\nimpression.\n\nThis is certain, that whatever alterations are made in the body, if\nthey reach not the mind; whatever impressions are made on the outward\nparts, if they are not taken notice of within, there is no perception.\nFire may burn our bodies with no other effect than it does a billet,\nunless the motion be continued to the brain, and there the sense of\nheat, or idea of pain, be produced in the mind; wherein consists actual\nperception.\n\n4. Impulse on the organ insufficient.\n\nHow often may a man observe in himself, that whilst his mind is\nintently employed in the contemplation of some objects, and curiously\nsurveying some ideas that are there, it takes no notice of impressions\nof sounding bodies made upon the organ of hearing, with the same\nalteration that uses to be for the producing the idea of sound? A\nsufficient impulse there may be on the organ; but it not reaching the\nobservation of the mind, there follows no perception: and though the\nmotion that uses to produce the idea of sound be made in the ear, yet\nno sound is heard. Want of sensation, in this case, is not through any\ndefect in the organ, or that the man\u2019s ears are less affected than at\nother times when he does hear but that which uses to produce the idea,\nthough conveyed in by the usual organ, not being taken notice of in the\nunderstanding, and so imprinting no idea in the mind, there follows no\nsensation. So that wherever there is sense of perception, there some\nidea is actually produced, and present in the understanding.\n\n5. Children, though they may have Ideas in the Womb, have none innate.\n\nTherefore I doubt not but children, by the exercise of their senses\nabout objects that affect them in the womb receive some few ideas\nbefore they are born, as the unavoidable effects, either of the bodies\nthat environ them, or else of those wants or diseases they suffer;\namongst which (if one may conjecture concerning things not very capable\nof examination) I think the ideas of hunger and warmth are two: which\nprobably are some of the first that children have, and which they\nscarce ever part with again.\n\n6. The effects of Sensation in the womb.\n\nBut though it be reasonable to imagine that children receive some ideas\nbefore they come into the world, yet these simple ideas are far from\nthose INNATE PRINCIPLES which some contend for, and we, above, have\nrejected. These here mentioned, being the effects of sensation, are\nonly from some affections of the body, which happen to them there, and\nso depend on something exterior to the mind; no otherwise differing in\ntheir manner of production from other ideas derived from sense, but\nonly in the precedency of time. Whereas those innate principles are\nsupposed to be quite of another nature; not coming into the mind by any\naccidental alterations in, or operations on the body; but, as it were,\noriginal characters impressed upon it, in the very first moment of its\nbeing and constitution.\n\n7. Which Ideas appear first is not evident, nor important.\n\nAs there are some ideas which we may reasonably suppose may be\nintroduced into the minds of children in the womb, subservient to the\nnecessities of their life and being there: so, after they are born,\nthose ideas are the earliest imprinted which happen to be the sensible\nqualities which first occur to them; amongst which light is not the\nleast considerable, nor of the weakest efficacy. And how covetous the\nmind is to be furnished with all such ideas as have no pain\naccompanying them, may be a little guessed by what is observable in\nchildren new-born; who always turn their eyes to that part from whence\nthe light comes, lay them how you please. But the ideas that are most\nfamiliar at first, being various according to the divers circumstances\nof children\u2019s first entertainment in the world, the order wherein the\nseveral ideas come at first into the mind is very various, and\nuncertain also; neither is it much material to know it.\n\n8. Sensations often changed by the Judgment.\n\nWe are further to consider concerning perception, that the ideas we\nreceive by sensation are often, in grown people, altered by the\njudgment, without our taking notice of it. When we set before our eyes\na round globe of any uniform colour, v.g. gold, alabaster, or jet, it\nis certain that the idea thereby imprinted on our mind is of a flat\ncircle, variously shadowed, with several degrees of light and\nbrightness coming to our eyes. But we having, by use, been accustomed\nto perceive what kind of appearance convex bodies are wont to make in\nus; what alterations are made in the reflections of light by the\ndifference of the sensible figures of bodies;\u2014the judgment presently,\nby an habitual custom, alters the appearances into their causes. So\nthat from that which is truly variety of shadow or colour, collecting\nthe figure, it makes it pass for a mark of figure, and frames to itself\nthe perception of a convex figure and an uniform colour; when the idea\nwe receive from thence is only a plane variously coloured, as is\nevident in painting. To which purpose I shall here insert a problem of\nthat very ingenious and studious promoter of real knowledge, the\nlearned and worthy Mr. Molineux, which he was pleased to send me in a\nletter some months since; and it is this:\u2014\u201cSuppose a man BORN blind,\nand now adult, and taught by his TOUCH to distinguish between a cube\nand a sphere of the same metal, and nighly of the same bigness, so as\nto tell, when he felt one and the other, which is the cube, which the\nsphere. Suppose then the cube and sphere placed on a table, and the\nblind man be made to see: quaere, whether BY HIS SIGHT, BEFORE HE\nTOUCHED THEM, he could now distinguish and tell which is the globe,\nwhich the cube?\u201d To which the acute and judicious proposer answers,\n\u201cNot. For, though he has obtained the experience of how a globe, how a\ncube affects his touch, yet he has not yet obtained the experience,\nthat what affects his touch so or so, must affect his sight so or so;\nor that a protuberant angle in the cube, that pressed his hand\nunequally, shall appear to his eye as it does in the cube.\u201d\u2014I agree\nwith this thinking gentleman, whom I am proud to call my friend, in his\nanswer to this problem; and am of opinion that the blind man, at first\nsight, would not be able with certainty to say which was the globe,\nwhich the cube, whilst he only saw them; though he could unerringly\nname them by his touch, and certainly distinguish them by the\ndifference of their figures felt. This I have set down, and leave with\nmy reader, as an occasion for him to consider how much he may be\nbeholden to experience, improvement, and acquired notions, where he\nthinks he had not the least use of, or help from them. And the rather,\nbecause this observing gentleman further adds, that \u201chaving, upon the\noccasion of my book, proposed this to divers very ingenious men, he\nhardly ever met with one that at first gave the answer to it which he\nthinks true, till by hearing his reasons they were convinced.\u201d\n\n9. This judgement apt to be mistaken for direct perception.\n\nBut this is not, I think, usual in any of our ideas, but those received\nby sight. Because sight, the most comprehensive of all our senses,\nconveying to our minds the ideas of light and colours, which are\npeculiar only to that sense; and also the far different ideas of space,\nfigure, and motion, the several varieties whereof change the\nappearances of its proper object, viz. light and colours; we bring\nourselves by use to judge of the one by the other. This, in many cases\nby a settled habit,\u2014in things whereof we have frequent experience is\nperformed so constantly and so quick, that we take that for the\nperception of our sensation which is an idea formed by our judgment; so\nthat one, viz. that of sensation, serves only to excite the other, and\nis scarce taken notice of itself;\u2014as a man who reads or hears with\nattention and understanding, takes little notice of the characters or\nsounds, but of the ideas that are excited in him by them.\n\n10. How, by Habit, ideas of Sensation are unconsciously changed into\nideas of Judgment.\n\nNor need we wonder that this is done with so little notice, if we\nconsider how quick the actions of the mind are performed. For, as\nitself is thought to take up no space to have no extension; so its\nactions seem to require no time but many of them seem to be crowded\ninto an instant. I speak this in comparison to the actions of the body.\nAny one may easily observe this in his own thoughts, who will take the\npains to reflect on them. How, as it were in an instant, do our minds,\nwith one glance, see all the parts of a demonstration, which may very\nwell be called a long one, if we consider the time it will require to\nput it into words, and step by step show it another? Secondly, we shall\nnot be so much surprised that this is done in us with so little notice,\nif we consider how the facility which we get of doing things, by a\ncustom of doing, makes them often pass in us without our notice.\nHabits, especially such as are begun very early, come at last to\nproduce actions in us, which often escape our observation. How\nfrequently do we, in a day, cover our eyes with our eyelids, without\nperceiving that we are at all in the dark! Men that, by custom, have\ngot the use of a by-word, do almost in every sentence pronounce sounds\nwhich, though taken notice of by others, they themselves neither hear\nnor observe. And therefore it is not so strange, that our mind should\noften change the idea of its sensation into that of its judgment, and\nmake one serve only to excite the other, without our taking notice of\nit.\n\n11. Perception puts the difference between Animals and Vegetables.\n\nThis faculty of perception seems to me to be, that which puts the\ndistinction betwixt the animal kingdom and the inferior parts of\nnature. For, however vegetables have, many of them, some degrees of\nmotion, and upon the different application of other bodies to them, do\nvery briskly alter their figures and motions, and so have obtained the\nname of sensitive plants, from a motion which has some resemblance to\nthat which in animals follows upon sensation: yet I suppose it is all\nbare MECHANISM; and no otherwise produced than the turning of a wild\noat-beard, by the insinuation of the particles of moisture, or the\nshortening of a rope, by the affusion of water. All which is done\nwithout any sensation in the subject, or the having or receiving any\nideas.\n\n12. Perception in all animals.\n\nPerception, I believe, is, in some degree, in all sorts of animals;\nthough in some possibly the avenues provided by nature for the\nreception of sensations are so few, and the perception they are\nreceived with so obscure and dull, that it comes extremely short of the\nquickness and variety of sensation which is in other animals; but yet\nit is sufficient for, and wisely adapted to, the state and condition of\nthat sort of animals who are thus made. So that the wisdom and goodness\nof the Maker plainly appear in all the parts of this stupendous fabric,\nand all the several degrees and ranks of creatures in it.\n\n13. According to their condition.\n\nWe may, I think, from the make of an oyster or cockle, reasonably\nconclude that it has not so many, nor so quick senses as a man, or\nseveral other animals; nor if it had, would it, in that state and\nincapacity of transferring itself from one place to another, be\nbettered by them. What good would sight and hearing do to a creature\nthat cannot move itself to or from the objects wherein at a distance it\nperceives good or evil? And would not quickness of sensation be an\ninconvenience to an animal that must lie still where chance has once\nplaced it, and there receive the afflux of colder or warmer, clean or\nfoul water, as it happens to come to it?\n\n14. Decay of perception in old age.\n\nBut yet I cannot but think there is some small dull perception, whereby\nthey are distinguished from perfect insensibility. And that this may be\nso, we have plain instances, even in mankind itself. Take one in whom\ndecrepit old age has blotted out the memory of his past knowledge, and\nclearly wiped out the ideas his mind was formerly stored with, and has,\nby destroying his sight, hearing, and smell quite, and his taste to a\ngreat degree, stopped up almost all the passages for new ones to enter;\nor if there be some of the inlets yet half open, the impressions made\nare scarcely perceived, or not at all retained. How far such an one\n(notwithstanding all that is boasted of innate principles) is in his\nknowledge and intellectual faculties above the condition of a cockle or\nan oyster, I leave to be considered. And if a man had passed sixty\nyears in such a state, as it is possible he might, as well as three\ndays, I wonder what difference there would be, in any intellectual\nperfections, between him and the lowest degree of animals.\n\n15. Perception the Inlet of all materials of Knowledge.\n\nPerception then being the FIRST step and degree towards knowledge, and\nthe inlet of all the materials of it; the fewer senses any man, as well\nas any other creature, hath; and the fewer and duller the impressions\nare that are made by them; and the duller the faculties are that are\nemployed about them,\u2014the more remote are they from that knowledge which\nis to be found in some men. But this being in great variety of degrees\n(as may be perceived amongst men) cannot certainly be discovered in the\nseveral species of animals, much less in their particular individuals.\nIt suffices me only to have remarked here,\u2014that perception is the first\noperation of all our intellectual faculties, and the inlet of all\nknowledge in our minds. And I am apt too to imagine, that it is\nperception, in the lowest degree of it, which puts the boundaries\nbetween animals and the inferior ranks of creatures. But this I mention\nonly as my conjecture by the by; it being indifferent to the matter in\nhand which way the learned shall determine of it.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER X.\nOF RETENTION.\n\n\n1. Contemplation\n\nThe next faculty of the mind, whereby it makes a further progress\ntowards knowledge, is that which I call RETENTION; or the keeping of\nthose simple ideas which from sensation or reflection it hath received.\nThis is done two ways.\n\nFirst, by keeping the idea which is brought into it, for some time\nactually in view, which is called CONTEMPLATION.\n\n2. Memory.\n\nThe other way of retention is, the power to revive again in our minds\nthose ideas which, after imprinting, have disappeared, or have been as\nit were laid aside out of sight. And thus we do, when we conceive heat\nor light, yellow or sweet,\u2014the object being removed. This is MEMORY,\nwhich is as it were the storehouse of our ideas. For, the narrow mind\nof man not being capable of having many ideas under view and\nconsideration at once, it was necessary to have a repository, to lay up\nthose ideas which, at another time, it might have use of. But, our\nIDEAS being nothing but actual perceptions in the mind, which cease to\nbe anything; when there is no perception of them; this laying up of our\nideas in the repository of the memory signifies no more but this,\u2014that\nthe mind has a power in many cases to revive perceptions which it has\nonce had, with this additional perception annexed to them, that IT HAS\nHAD THEM BEFORE. And in this sense it is that our ideas are said to be\nin our memories, when indeed they are actually nowhere;\u2014but only there\nis an ability in the mind when it will to revive them again, and as it\nwere paint them anew on itself, though some with more, some with less\ndifficulty; some more lively, and others more obscurely. And thus it\nis, by the assistance of this faculty, that we are said to have all\nthose ideas in our understandings which, though we do not actually\ncontemplate yet we CAN bring in sight, and make appear again, and be\nthe objects of our thoughts, without the help of those sensible\nqualities which first imprinted them there.\n\n3. Attention, Repetition, Pleasure and Pain, fix Ideas.\n\nAttention and repetition help much to the fixing any ideas in the\nmemory. But those which naturally at first make the deepest and most\nlasting impressions, are those which are accompanied with pleasure or\npain. The great business of the senses being, to make us take notice of\nwhat hurts or advantages the body, it is wisely ordered by nature, as\nhas been shown, that pain should accompany the reception of several\nideas; which, supplying the place of consideration and reasoning in\nchildren, and acting quicker than consideration in grown men, makes\nboth the old and young avoid painful objects with that haste which is\nnecessary for their preservation; and in both settles in the memory a\ncaution for the future.\n\n4. Ideas fade in the Memory.\n\nConcerning the several degrees of lasting, wherewith ideas are\nimprinted on the memory, we may observe,\u2014that some of them have been\nproduced in the understanding by an object affecting the senses once\nonly, and no more than once; others, that have more than once offered\nthemselves to the senses, have yet been little taken notice of: the\nmind, either heedless, as in children, or otherwise employed, as in men\nintent only on one thing; not setting the stamp deep into itself. And\nin some, where they are set on with care and repeated impressions,\neither through the temper of the body, or some other fault, the memory\nis very weak. In all these cases, ideas in the mind quickly fade, and\noften vanish quite out of the understanding, leaving no more footsteps\nor remaining characters of themselves than shadows do flying over\nfields of corn, and the mind is as void of them as if they had never\nbeen there.\n\n5. Causes of oblivion.\n\nThus many of those ideas which were produced in the minds of children,\nin the beginning of their sensation, (some of which perhaps, as of some\npleasures and pains, were before they were born, and others in their\ninfancy,) if in the future course of their lives they are not repeated\nagain, are quite lost, without the least glimpse remaining of them.\nThis may be observed in those who by some mischance have lost their\nsight when they were very young; in whom the ideas of colours having\nbeen but slightly taken notice of, and ceasing to be repeated, do quite\nwear out; so that some years after, there is no more notion nor memory\nof colours left in their minds, than in those of people born blind. The\nmemory of some men, it is true, is very tenacious, even to a miracle.\nBut yet there seems to be a constant decay of all our ideas, even of\nthose which are struck deepest, and in minds the most retentive; so\nthat if they be not sometimes renewed, by repeated exercise of the\nsenses, or reflection on those kinds of objects which at first\noccasioned them, the print wears out, and at last there remains nothing\nto be seen. Thus the ideas, as well as children, of our youth, often\ndie before us: and our minds represent to us those tombs to which we\nare approaching; where, though the brass and marble remain, yet the\ninscriptions are effaced by time, and the imagery moulders away. The\npictures drawn in our minds are laid in fading colours; and if not\nsometimes refreshed, vanish and disappear. How much the constitution of\nour bodies are concerned in this; and whether the temper of the brain\nmakes this difference, that in some it retains the characters drawn on\nit like marble, in others like freestone, and in others little better\nthan sand, I shall here inquire; though it may seem probable that the\nconstitution of the body does sometimes influence the memory, since we\noftentimes find a disease quite strip the mind of all its ideas, and\nthe flames of a fever in a few days calcine all those images to dust\nand confusion, which seemed to be as lasting as if graved in marble.\n\n6. Constantly repeated Ideas can scarce be lost.\n\nBut concerning the ideas themselves, it is easy to remark, that those\nthat are oftenest refreshed (amongst which are those that are conveyed\ninto the mind by more ways than one) by a frequent return of the\nobjects or actions that produce them, fix themselves best in the\nmemory, and remain clearest and longest there; and therefore those\nwhich are of the original qualities of bodies, viz. solidity,\nextension, figure, motion, and rest; and those that almost constantly\naffect our bodies, as heat and cold; and those which are the affections\nof all kinds of beings, as existence, duration, and number, which\nalmost every object that affects our senses, every thought which\nemploys our minds, bring along with them;\u2014these, I say, and the like\nideas, are seldom quite lost, whilst the mind retains any ideas at all.\n\n7. In Remembering, the Mind is often active.\n\nIn this secondary perception, as I may so call it, or viewing again the\nideas that are lodged in the memory, the mind is oftentimes more than\nbarely passive; the appearance of those dormant pictures depending\nsometimes on the WILL. The mind very often sets itself on work in\nsearch of some hidden idea, and turns as it were the eye of the soul\nupon it; though sometimes too they start up in our minds of their own\naccord, and offer themselves to the understanding; and very often are\nroused and tumbled out of their dark cells into open daylight, by\nturbulent and tempestuous passions; our affections bringing ideas to\nour memory, which had otherwise lain quiet and unregarded. This further\nis to be observed, concerning ideas lodged in the memory, and upon\noccasion revived by the mind, that they are not only (as the word\nREVIVE imports) none of them new ones, but also that the mind takes\nnotice of them as of a former impression, and renews its acquaintance\nwith them, as with ideas it had known before. So that though ideas\nformerly imprinted are not all constantly in view, yet in remembrance\nthey are constantly known to be such as have been formerly imprinted;\ni.e. in view, and taken notice of before, by the understanding.\n\n8. Two defects in the Memory, Oblivion and Slowness.\n\nMemory, in an intellectual creature, is necessary in the next degree to\nperception. It is of so great moment, that, where it is wanting, all\nthe rest of our faculties are in a great measure useless. And we in our\nthoughts, reasonings, and knowledge, could not proceed beyond present\nobjects, were it not for the assistance of our memories; wherein there\nmay be two defects:\u2014\n\nFirst, That it loses the idea quite, and so far it produces perfect\nignorance. For, since we can know nothing further than we have the idea\nof it, when that is gone, we are in perfect ignorance.\n\nSecondly, That it moves slowly, and retrieves not the ideas that it\nhas, and are laid up in store, quick enough to serve the mind upon\noccasion. This, if it be to a great degree, is stupidity; and he who,\nthrough this default in his memory, has not the ideas that are really\npreserved there, ready at hand when need and occasion calls for them,\nwere almost as good be without them quite, since they serve him to\nlittle purpose. The dull man, who loses the opportunity, whilst he is\nseeking in his mind for those ideas that should serve his turn, is not\nmuch more happy in his knowledge than one that is perfectly ignorant.\nIt is the business therefore of the memory to furnish to the mind those\ndormant ideas which it has present occasion for; in the having them\nready at hand on all occasions, consists that which we call invention,\nfancy, and quickness of parts.\n\n9. A defect which belongs to the memory of Man, as finite.\n\nThese are defects we may observe in the memory of one man compared with\nanother. There is another defect which we may conceive to be in the\nmemory of man in general;\u2014compared with some superior created\nintellectual beings, which in this faculty may so far excel man, that\nthey may have CONSTANTLY in view the whole scene of all their former\nactions, wherein no one of the thoughts they have ever had may slip out\nof their sight. The omniscience of God, who knows all things, past,\npresent, and to come, and to whom the thoughts of men\u2019s hearts always\nlie open, may satisfy us of the possibility of this. For who can doubt\nbut God may communicate to those glorious spirits, his immediate\nattendants, any of his perfections; in what proportions he pleases, as\nfar as created finite beings can be capable? It is reported of that\nprodigy of parts, Monsieur Pascal, that till the decay of his health\nhad impaired his memory, he forgot nothing of what he had done, read,\nor thought, in any part of his rational age. This is a privilege so\nlittle known to most men, that it seems almost incredible to those who,\nafter the ordinary way, measure all others by themselves; but yet, when\nconsidered, may help us to enlarge our thoughts towards greater\nperfections of it, in superior ranks of spirits. For this of Monsieur\nPascal was still with the narrowness that human minds are confined to\nhere,\u2014of having great variety of ideas only by succession, not all at\nonce. Whereas the several degrees of angels may probably have larger\nviews; and some of them be endowed with capacities able to retain\ntogether, and constantly set before them, as in one picture, all their\npast knowledge at once. This, we may conceive, would be no small\nadvantage to the knowledge of a thinking man,\u2014if all his past thoughts\nand reasonings could be ALWAYS present to him. And therefore we may\nsuppose it one of those ways, wherein the knowledge of separate spirits\nmay exceedingly surpass ours.\n\n10. Brutes have Memory.\n\nThis faculty of laying up and retaining the ideas that are brought into\nthe mind, several other animals seem to have to a great degree, as well\nas man. For, to pass by other instances, birds learning of tunes, and\nthe endeavours one may observe in them to hit the notes right, put it\npast doubt with me, that they have perception, and retain ideas in\ntheir memories, and use them for patterns. For it seems to me\nimpossible that they should endeavour to conform their voices to notes\n(as it is plain they do) of which they had no ideas. For, though I\nshould grant sound may mechanically cause a certain motion of the\nanimal spirits in the brains of those birds, whilst the tune is\nactually playing; and that motion may be continued on to the muscles of\nthe wings, and so the bird mechanically be driven away by certain\nnoises, because this may tend to the bird\u2019s preservation; yet that can\nnever be supposed a reason why it should cause mechanically\u2014either\nwhilst the tune is playing, much less after it has ceased\u2014such a motion\nof the organs in the bird\u2019s voice as should conform it to the notes of\na foreign sound, which imitation can be of no use to the bird\u2019s\npreservation. But, which is more, it cannot with any appearance of\nreason be supposed (much less proved) that birds, without sense and\nmemory, can approach their notes nearer and nearer by degrees to a tune\nplayed yesterday; which if they have no idea of in their memory, is now\nnowhere, nor can be a pattern for them to imitate, or which any\nrepeated essays can bring them nearer to. Since there is no reason why\nthe sound of a pipe should leave traces in their brains, which, not at\nfirst, but by their after-endeavours, should produce the like sounds;\nand why the sounds they make themselves, should not make traces which\nthey should follow, as well as those of the pipe, is impossible to\nconceive.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XI.\nOF DISCERNING, AND OTHER OPERATIONS OF THE MIND.\n\n\n1. No Knowledge without Discernment.\n\nAnother faculty we may take notice of in our minds is that of\nDISCERNING and DISTINGUISHING between the several ideas it has. It is\nnot enough to have a confused perception of something in general.\nUnless the mind had a distinct perception of different objects and\ntheir qualities, it would be capable of very little knowledge, though\nthe bodies that affect us were as busy about us as they are now, and\nthe mind were continually employed in thinking. On this faculty of\ndistinguishing one thing from another depends the evidence and\ncertainty of several, even very general, propositions, which have\npassed for innate truths;\u2014because men, overlooking the true cause why\nthose propositions find universal assent, impute it wholly to native\nuniform impressions; whereas it in truth depends upon this clear\ndiscerning faculty of the mind, whereby it PERCEIVES two ideas to be\nthe same, or different. But of this more hereafter.\n\n2. The Difference of Wit and Judgment.\n\nHow much the imperfection of accurately discriminating ideas one from\nanother lies, either in the dulness or faults of the organs of sense;\nor want of acuteness, exercise, or attention in the understanding; or\nhastiness and precipitancy, natural to some tempers, I will not here\nexamine: it suffices to take notice, that this is one of the operations\nthat the mind may reflect on and observe in itself. It is of that\nconsequence to its other knowledge, that so far as this faculty is in\nitself dull, or not rightly made use of, for the distinguishing one\nthing from another,\u2014so far our notions are confused, and our reason and\njudgment disturbed or misled. If in having our ideas in the memory\nready at hand consists quickness of parts; in this, of having them\nunconfused, and being able nicely to distinguish one thing from\nanother, where there is but the least difference, consists, in a great\nmeasure, the exactness of judgment, and clearness of reason, which is\nto be observed in one man above another. And hence perhaps may be given\nsome reason of that common observation,\u2014that men who have a great deal\nof wit, and prompt memories, have not always the clearest judgment or\ndeepest reason. For WIT lying most in the assemblage of ideas, and\nputting those together with quickness and variety, wherein can be found\nany resemblance or congruity, thereby to make up pleasant pictures and\nagreeable visions in the fancy; JUDGMENT, on the contrary, lies quite\non the other side, in separating carefully, one from another, ideas\nwherein can be found the least difference, thereby to avoid being\nmisled by similitude, and by affinity to take one thing for another.\nThis is a way of proceeding quite contrary to metaphor and allusion;\nwherein for the most part lies that entertainment and pleasantry of\nwit, which strikes so lively on the fancy, and therefore is so\nacceptable to all people, because its beauty appears at first sight,\nand there is required no labour of thought to examine what truth or\nreason there is in it. The mind, without looking any further, rests\nsatisfied with the agreeableness of the picture and the gaiety of the\nfancy. And it is a kind of affront to go about to examine it, by the\nsevere rules of truth and good reason; whereby it appears that it\nconsists in something that is not perfectly conformable to them.\n\n3. Clearness alone hinders Confusion.\n\nTo the well distinguishing our ideas, it chiefly contributes that they\nbe CLEAR and DETERMINATE. And when they are so, it will not breed any\nconfusion or mistake about them, though the senses should (as sometimes\nthey do) convey them from the same object differently on different\noccasions, and so seem to err. For, though a man in a fever should from\nsugar have a bitter taste, which at another time would produce a sweet\none, yet the idea of bitter in that man\u2019s mind would be as clear and\ndistinct from the idea of sweet as if he had tasted only gall. Nor does\nit make any more confusion between the two ideas of sweet and bitter\nthat the same sort of body produces at one time one, and at another\ntime another idea by the taste, than it makes a confusion in two ideas\nof white and sweet, or white and round, that the same piece of sugar\nproduces them both in the mind at the same time. And the ideas of\norange-colour and azure, that are produced in the mind by the same\nparcel of the infusion of lignum nephritium, are no less distinct ideas\nthan those of the same colours taken from two very different bodies.\n\n4. Comparing.\n\nThe COMPARING them one with another, in respect of extent, degrees,\ntime, place, or any other circumstances, is another operation of the\nmind about its ideas, and is that upon which depends all that large\ntribe of ideas comprehended under RELATION; which, of how vast an\nextent it is, I shall have occasion to consider hereafter.\n\n5. Brutes compare but imperfectly.\n\nHow far brutes partake in this faculty, is not easy to determine. I\nimagine they have it not in any great degree, for, though they probably\nhave several ideas distinct enough, yet it seems to me to be the\nprerogative of human understanding, when it has sufficiently\ndistinguished any ideas, so as to perceive them to be perfectly\ndifferent, and so consequently two, to cast about and consider in what\ncircumstances they are capable to be compared. And therefore, I think,\nbeasts compare not their ideas further than some sensible circumstances\nannexed to the objects themselves. The other power of comparing, which\nmay be observed in men, belonging to general ideas, and useful only to\nabstract reasonings, we may probably conjecture beasts have not.\n\n6. Compounding.\n\nThe next operation we may observe in the mind about its ideas is\nCOMPOSITION; whereby it puts together several of those simple ones it\nhas received from sensation and reflection, and combines them into\ncomplex ones. Under this of composition may be reckoned also that of\nENLARGING, wherein, though the composition does not so much appear as\nin more complex ones, yet it is nevertheless a putting several ideas\ntogether, though of the same kind. Thus, by adding several units\ntogether, we make the idea of a dozen; and putting together the\nrepeated ideas of several perches, we frame that of a furlong.\n\n7. Brutes compound but little.\n\nIn this also, I suppose, brutes come far short of man. For, though they\ntake in, and retain together, several combinations of simple ideas, as\npossibly the shape, smell, and voice of his master make up the complex\nidea a dog has of him, or rather are so many distinct marks whereby he\nknows him; yet I do not think they do of themselves ever compound them,\nand make complex ideas. And perhaps even where we think they have\ncomplex ideas, it is only one simple one that directs them in the\nknowledge of several things, which possibly they distinguish less by\ntheir sight than we imagine. For I have been credibly informed that a\nbitch will nurse, play with, and be fond of young foxes, as much as,\nand in place of her puppies, if you can but get them once to suck her\nso long that her milk may go through them. And those animals which have\na numerous brood of young ones at once, appear not to have any\nknowledge of their number; for though they are mightily concerned for\nany of their young that are taken from them whilst they are in sight or\nhearing, yet if one or two of them be stolen from them in their\nabsence, or without noise, they appear not to miss them, or to have any\nsense that their number is lessened.\n\n8. Naming.\n\nWhen children have, by repeated sensations, got ideas fixed in their\nmemories, they begin by degrees to learn the use of signs. And when\nthey have got the skill to apply the organs of speech to the framing of\narticulate sounds, they begin to make use of words, to signify their\nideas to others. These verbal signs they sometimes borrow from others,\nand sometimes make themselves, as one may observe among the new and\nunusual names children often give to things in the first use of\nlanguage.\n\n9. Abstraction.\n\nThe use of words then being to stand as outward mark of our internal\nideas, and those ideas being taken from particular things, if every\nparticular idea that we take up should have a distinct name, names must\nbe endless. To prevent this, the mind makes the particular ideas\nreceived from particular objects to become general; which is done by\nconsidering them as they are in the mind such appearances,\u2014separate\nfrom all other existences, and the circumstances of real existence, as\ntime, place, or any other concomitant ideas. This is called\nABSTRACTION, whereby ideas taken from particular beings become general\nrepresentatives of all of the same kind; and their names general names,\napplicable to whatever exists conformable to such abstract ideas. Such\nprecise, naked appearances in the mind, without considering how,\nwhence, or with what others they came there, the understanding lays up\n(with names commonly annexed to them) as the standards to rank real\nexistences into sorts, as they agree with these patterns, and to\ndenominate them accordingly. Thus the same colour being observed to-day\nin chalk or snow, which the mind yesterday received from milk, it\nconsiders that appearance alone, makes it a representative of all of\nthat kind; and having given it the name WHITENESS, it by that sound\nsignifies the same quality wheresoever to be imagined or met with; and\nthus universals, whether ideas or terms, are made.\n\n10. Brutes abstract not.\n\nIf it may be doubted whether beasts compound and enlarge their ideas\nthat way to any degree; this, I think, I may be positive in,\u2014that the\npower of abstracting is not at all in them; and that the having of\ngeneral ideas is that which puts a perfect distinction betwixt man and\nbrutes, and is an excellency which the faculties of brutes do by no\nmeans attain to. For it is evident we observe no footsteps in them of\nmaking use of general signs for universal ideas; from which we have\nreason to imagine that they have not the faculty of abstracting, or\nmaking general ideas, since they have no use of words, or any other\ngeneral signs.\n\n11. Brutes abstract not, yet are not bare machines.\n\nNor can it be imputed to their want of fit organs to frame articulate\nsounds, that they have no use or knowledge of general words; since many\nof them, we find, can fashion such sounds, and pronounce words\ndistinctly enough, but never with any such application. And, on the\nother side, men who, through some defect in the organs, want words, yet\nfail not to express their universal ideas by signs, which serve them\ninstead of general words, a faculty which we see beasts come short in.\nAnd, therefore, I think, we may suppose, that it is in this that the\nspecies of brutes are discriminated from man: and it is that proper\ndifference wherein they are wholly separated, and which at last widens\nto so vast a distance. For if they have any ideas at all, and are not\nbare machines, (as some would have them,) we cannot deny them to have\nsome reason. It seems as evident to me, that they do reason, as that\nthey have sense; but it is only in particular ideas, just as they\nreceived them from their senses. They are the best of them tied up\nwithin those narrow bounds, and have not (as I think) the faculty to\nenlarge them by any kind of abstraction.\n\n12. Idiots and Madmen.\n\nHow far idiots are concerned in the want or weakness of any, or all of\nthe foregoing faculties, an exact observation of their several ways of\nfaultering would no doubt discover. For those who either perceive but\ndully, or retain the ideas that come into their minds but ill, who\ncannot readily excite or compound them, will have little matter to\nthink on. Those who cannot distinguish, compare, and abstract, would\nhardly be able to understand and make use of language, or judge or\nreason to any tolerable degree; but only a little and imperfectly about\nthings present, and very familiar to their senses. And indeed any of\nthe forementioned faculties, if wanting, or out of order, produce\nsuitable defects in men\u2019s understandings and knowledge.\n\n13. Difference between Idiots and Madmen.\n\nIn fine, the defect in naturals seems to proceed from want of\nquickness, activity, and motion in the intellectual faculties, whereby\nthey are deprived of reason; whereas madmen, on the other side, seem to\nsuffer by the other extreme. For they do not appear to me to have lost\nthe faculty of reasoning, but having joined together some ideas very\nwrongly, they mistake them for truths; and they err as men do that\nargue right from wrong principles. For, by the violence of their\nimaginations, having taken their fancies for realities, they make right\ndeductions from them. Thus you shall find a distracted man fancying\nhimself a king, with a right inference require suitable attendance,\nrespect, and obedience: others who have thought themselves made of\nglass, have used the caution necessary to preserve such brittle bodies.\nHence it comes to pass that a man who is very sober, and of a right\nunderstanding in all other things, may in one particular be as frantic\nas any in Bedlam; if either by any sudden very strong impression, or\nlong fixing his fancy upon one sort of thoughts, incoherent ideas have\nbeen cemented together so powerfully, as to remain united. But there\nare degrees of madness, as of folly; the disorderly jumbling ideas\ntogether is in some more, and some less. In short, herein seems to lie\nthe difference between idiots and madmen: that madmen put wrong ideas\ntogether, and so make wrong propositions, but argue and reason right\nfrom them; but idiots make very few or no propositions, and reason\nscarce at all.\n\n14. Method followed in this explication of Faculties.\n\nThese, I think, are the first faculties and operations of the mind,\nwhich it makes use of in understanding; and though they are exercised\nabout all its ideas in general, yet the instances I have hitherto given\nhave been chiefly in simple ideas. And I have subjoined the explication\nof these faculties of the mind to that of simple ideas, before I come\nto what I have to say concerning complex ones, for these following\nreasons:\u2014\n\nFirst, Because several of these faculties being exercised at first\nprincipally about simple ideas, we might, by following nature in its\nordinary method, trace and discover them, in their rise, progress, and\ngradual improvements.\n\nSecondly, Because observing the faculties of the mind, how they operate\nabout simple ideas,\u2014which are usually, in most men\u2019s minds, much more\nclear, precise, and distinct than complex ones,\u2014we may the better\nexamine and learn how the mind extracts, denominates, compares, and\nexercises, in its other operations about those which are complex,\nwherein we are much more liable to mistake. Thirdly, Because these very\noperations of the mind about ideas received from sensations, are\nthemselves, when reflected on, another set of ideas, derived from that\nother source of our knowledge, which I call reflection; and therefore\nfit to be considered in this place after the simple ideas of sensation.\nOf compounding, comparing, abstracting, &c., I have but just spoken,\nhaving occasion to treat of them more at large in other places.\n\n15. The true Beginning of Human Knowledge.\n\nAnd thus I have given a short, and, I think, true HISTORY OF THE FIRST\nBEGINNINGS OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE;\u2014whence the mind has its first objects;\nand by what steps it makes its progress to the laying in and storing up\nthose ideas, out of which is to be framed all the knowledge it is\ncapable of: wherein I must appeal to experience and observation whether\nI am in the right: the best way to come to truth being to examine\nthings as really they are, and not to conclude they are, as we fancy of\nourselves, or have been taught by others to imagine.\n\n16. Appeal to Experience.\n\nTo deal truly, this is the only way that I can discover, whereby the\nIDEAS OF THINGS are brought into the understanding. If other men have\neither innate ideas or infused principles, they have reason to enjoy\nthem; and if they are sure of it, it is impossible for others to deny\nthem the privilege that they have above their neighbours. I can speak\nbut of what I find in myself, and is agreeable to those notions, which,\nif we will examine the whole course of men in their several ages,\ncountries, and educations, seem to depend on those foundations which I\nhave laid, and to correspond with this method in all the parts and\ndegrees thereof.\n\n17. Dark Room.\n\nI pretend not to teach, but to inquire; and therefore cannot but\nconfess here again,\u2014that external and internal sensation are the only\npassages I can find of knowledge to the understanding. These alone, as\nfar as I can discover, are the windows by which light is let into this\nDARK ROOM. For, methinks, the understanding is not much unlike a closet\nwholly shut from light, with only some little openings left, to let in\nexternal visible resemblances, or ideas of things without: which, would\nthey but stay there, and lie so orderly as to be found upon occasion,\nit would very much resemble the understanding of a man, in reference to\nall objects of sight, and the ideas of them.\n\nThese are my guesses concerning the means whereby the understanding\ncomes to have and retain simple ideas, and the modes of them, with some\nother operations about them.\n\nI proceed now to examine some of these simple ideas and their modes a\nlittle more particularly.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XII.\nOF COMPLEX IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Made by the Mind out of simple Ones.\n\nWe have hitherto considered those ideas, in the reception whereof the\nmind is only passive, which are those simple ones received from\nsensation and reflection before mentioned, whereof the mind cannot make\none to itself, nor have any idea which does not wholly consist of them.\nAs simple ideas are observed to exist in several combinations united\ntogether, so the mind has a power to consider several of them united\ntogether as one idea; and that not only as they are united in external\nobjects, but as itself has joined them together. Ideas thus made up of\nseveral simple ones put together, I call COMPLEX;\u2014such as are beauty,\ngratitude, a man, an army, the universe; which, though complicated of\nvarious simple ideas, or complex ideas made up of simple ones, yet are,\nwhen the mind pleases, considered each by itself, as one entire thing,\nsignified by one name.\n\n2. Made voluntarily.\n\nIn this faculty of repeating and joining together its ideas, the mind\nhas great power in varying and multiplying the objects of its thoughts,\ninfinitely beyond what sensation or reflection furnished it with: but\nall this still confined to those simple ideas which it received from\nthose two sources, and which are the ultimate materials of all its\ncompositions. For simple ideas are all from things themselves, and of\nthese the mind CAN have no more, nor other than what are suggested to\nit. It can have no other ideas of sensible qualities than what come\nfrom without [*dropped word] the senses; nor any ideas of other kind of\noperations of a thinking substance, than what it finds in itself. But\nwhen it has once got these simple ideas, it is not confined barely to\nobservation, and what offers itself from without; it can, by its own\npower, put together those ideas it has, and make new complex ones,\nwhich it never received so united.\n\n3. Complex ideas are either of Modes, Substances, or Relations.\n\nCOMPLEX IDEAS, however compounded and decompounded, though their number\nbe infinite, and the variety endless, wherewith they fill and entertain\nthe thoughts of men; yet I think they may be all reduced under these\nthree heads:\u20141. MODES. 2. SUBSTANCES. 3. RELATIONS.\n\n4. Ideas of Modes.\n\nFirst, MODES I call such complex ideas which, however compounded,\ncontain not in them the supposition of subsisting by themselves, but\nare considered as dependences on, or affections of substances;\u2014such as\nare the ideas signified by the words triangle, gratitude, murder, &c.\nAnd if in this I use the word mode in somewhat a different sense from\nits ordinary signification, I beg pardon; it being unavoidable in\ndiscourses, differing from the ordinary received notions, either to\nmake new words, or to use old words in somewhat a new signification;\nthe later whereof, in our present case, is perhaps the more tolerable\nof the two.\n\n5. Simple and mixed Modes of Ideas.\n\nOf these MODES, there are two sorts which deserve distinct\nconsideration:\u2014\n\nFirst, there are some which are only variations, or different\ncombinations of the same simple idea, without the mixture of any\nother;\u2014as a dozen, or score; which are nothing but the ideas of so many\ndistinct units added together, and these I call SIMPLE MODES as being\ncontained within the bounds of one simple idea.\n\nSecondly, there are others compounded of simple ideas of several kinds,\nput together to make one complex one;\u2014v.g. beauty, consisting of a\ncertain composition of colour and figure, causing delight to the\nbeholder; theft, which being the concealed change of the possession of\nanything, without the consent of the proprietor, contains, as is\nvisible, a combination of several ideas of several kinds: and these I\ncall MIXED MODES.\n\n6. Ideas of Substances, single or collective.\n\nSecondly, the ideas of SUBSTANCES are such combinations of simple ideas\nas are taken to represent distinct PARTICULAR things subsisting by\nthemselves; in which the supposed or confused idea of substance, such\nas it is, is always the first and chief. Thus if to substance be joined\nthe simple idea of a certain dull whitish colour, with certain degrees\nof weight, hardness, ductility, and fusibility, we have the idea of\nlead; and a combination of the ideas of a certain sort of figure, with\nthe powers of motion, thought and reasoning, joined to substance, make\nthe ordinary idea of a man. Now of substances also, there are two sorts\nof ideas:\u2014one of SINGLE substances, as they exist separately, as of a\nman or a sheep; the other of several of those put together, as an army\nof men, or flock of sheep\u2014which COLLECTIVE ideas of several substances\nthus put together are as much each of them one single idea as that of a\nman or an unit.\n\n7. Ideas of Relation.\n\nThirdly, the last sort of complex ideas is that we call RELATION, which\nconsists in the consideration and comparing one idea with another.\n\nOf these several kinds we shall treat in their order.\n\n8. The abstrusest Ideas we can have are all from two Sources.\n\nIf we trace the progress of our minds, and with attention observe how\nit repeats, adds together, and unites its simple ideas received from\nsensation or reflection, it will lead us further than at first perhaps\nwe should have imagined. And, I believe, we shall find, if we warily\nobserve the originals of our notions, that EVEN THE MOST ABSTRUSE\nIDEAS, how remote soever they may seem from sense, or from any\noperations of our own minds, are yet only such as the understanding\nframes to itself, by repeating and joining together ideas that it had\neither from objects of sense, or from its own operations about them: so\nthat those even large and abstract ideas are derived from sensation or\nreflection, being no other than what the mind, by the ordinary use of\nits own faculties, employed about ideas received from objects of sense,\nor from the operations it observes in itself about them, may, and does,\nattain unto.\n\nThis I shall endeavour to show in the ideas we have of space, time, and\ninfinity, and some few others that seem the most remote, from those\noriginals.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIII.\nCOMPLEX IDEAS OF SIMPLE MODES:\u2014AND FIRST, OF THE SIMPLE MODES OF IDEA\nOF SPACE.\n\n\n1. Simple modes of simple ideas.\n\nThough in the foregoing part I have often mentioned simple ideas, which\nare truly the materials of all our knowledge; yet having treated of\nthem there, rather in the way that they come into the mind, than as\ndistinguished from others more compounded, it will not be perhaps amiss\nto take a view of some of them again under this consideration, and\nexamine those different modifications of the SAME idea; which the mind\neither finds in things existing, or is able to make within itself\nwithout the help of any extrinsical object, or any foreign suggestion.\n\nThose modifications of any ONE simple idea (which, as has been said, I\ncall SIMPLE MODES) are as perfectly different and distinct ideas in the\nmind as those of the greatest distance or contrariety. For the idea of\ntwo is as distinct from that of one, as blueness from heat, or either\nof them from any number: and yet it is made up only of that simple idea\nof an unit repeated; and repetitions of this kind joined together make\nthose distinct simple modes, of a dozen, a gross, a million. Simple\nModes of Idea of Space.\n\n2. Idea of Space.\n\nI shall begin with the simple idea of SPACE. I have showed above, chap.\n4, that we get the idea of space, both by our sight and touch; which, I\nthink, is so evident, that it would be as needless to go to prove that\nmen perceive, by their sight, a distance between bodies of different\ncolours, or between the parts of the same body, as that they see\ncolours themselves: nor is it less obvious, that they can do so in the\ndark by feeling and touch.\n\n3. Space and Extension.\n\nThis space, considered barely in length between any two beings, without\nconsidering anything else between them, is called DISTANCE: if\nconsidered in length, breadth, and thickness, I think it may be called\nCAPACITY. When considered between the extremities of matter, which\nfills the capacity of space with something solid, tangible, and\nmoveable, it is properly called EXTENSION. And so extension is an idea\nbelonging to body only; but space may, as is evident, be considered\nwithout it. At least I think it most intelligible, and the best way to\navoid confusion, if we use the word extension for an affection of\nmatter or the distance of the extremities of particular solid bodies;\nand space in the more general signification, for distance, with or\nwithout solid matter possessing it.\n\n4. Immensity.\n\nEach different distance is a different modification of space; and each\nidea of any different distance, or space, is a SIMPLE MODE of this\nidea. Men having, by accustoming themselves to stated lengths of space,\nwhich they use for measuring other distances\u2014as a foot, a yard or a\nfathom, a league, or diameter of the earth\u2014made those ideas familiar to\ntheir thoughts, can, in their minds, repeat them as often as they will,\nwithout mixing or joining to them the idea of body, or anything else;\nand frame to themselves the ideas of long, square, or cubic feet, yards\nor fathoms, here amongst the bodies of the universe, or else beyond the\nutmost bounds of all bodies; and, by adding these still one to another,\nenlarge their ideas of space as much as they please. The power of\nrepeating or doubling any idea we have of any distance, and adding it\nto the former as often as we will, without being ever able to come to\nany stop or stint, let us enlarge it as much as we will, is that which\ngives us the idea of IMMENSITY.\n\n5. Figure.\n\nThere is another modification of this idea, which is nothing but the\nrelation which the parts of the termination of extension, or\ncircumscribed space, have amongst themselves. This the touch discovers\nin sensible bodies, whose extremities come within our reach; and the\neye takes both from bodies and colours, whose boundaries are within its\nview: where, observing how the extremities terminate,\u2014either in\nstraight lines which meet at discernible angles, or in crooked lines\nwherein no angles can be perceived; by considering these as they relate\nto one another, in all parts of the extremities of any body or space,\nit has that idea we call FIGURE, which affords to the mind infinite\nvariety. For, besides the vast number of different figures that do\nreally exist in the coherent masses of matter, the stock that the mind\nhas in its power, by varying the idea of space, and thereby making\nstill new compositions, by repeating its own ideas, and joining them as\nit pleases, is perfectly inexhaustible. And so it can multiply figures\nIN INFINITUM.\n\n6. Endless variety of figures.\n\nFor the mind having a power to repeat the idea of any length directly\nstretched out, and join it to another in the same direction, which is\nto double the length of that straight line; or else join another with\nwhat inclination it thinks fit, and so make what sort of angle it\npleases: and being able also to shorten any line it imagines, by taking\nfrom it one half, one fourth, or what part it pleases, without being\nable to come to an end of any such divisions, it can make an angle of\nany bigness. So also the lines that are its sides, of what length it\npleases, which joining again to other lines, of different lengths, and\nat different angles, till it has wholly enclosed any space, it is\nevident that it can multiply figures, both in their shape and capacity,\nIN INFINITUM; all which are but so many different simple modes of\nspace.\n\nThe same that it can do with straight lines, it can also do with\ncrooked, or crooked and straight together; and the same it can do in\nlines, it can also in superficies; by which we may be led into farther\nthoughts of the endless variety of figures that the mind has a power to\nmake, and thereby to multiply the simple modes of space.\n\n7. Place.\n\nAnother idea coming under this head, and belonging to this tribe, is\nthat we call PLACE. As in simple space, we consider the relation of\ndistance between any two bodies or points; so in our idea of place, we\nconsider the relation of distance betwixt anything, and any two or more\npoints, which are considered as keeping the same distance one with\nanother, and so considered as at rest. For when we find anything at the\nsame distance now which it was yesterday, from any two or more points,\nwhich have not since changed their distance one with another, and with\nwhich we then compared it, we say it hath kept the same place: but if\nit hath sensibly altered its distance with either of those points, we\nsay it hath changed its place: though, vulgarly speaking, in the common\nnotion of place, we do not always exactly observe the distance from\nthese precise points, but from larger portions of sensible objects, to\nwhich we consider the thing placed to bear relation, and its distance\nfrom which we have some reason to observe.\n\n8. Place relative to particular bodies.\n\nThus, a company of chess-men, standing on the same squares of the\nchess-board where we left them, we say they are all in the SAME place,\nor unmoved, though perhaps the chessboard hath been in the mean time\ncarried out of one room into another; because we compared them only to\nthe parts of the chess-board, which keep the same distance one with\nanother. The chess-board, we also say, is in the same place it was, if\nit remain in the same part of the cabin, though perhaps the ship which\nit is in sails all the while. And the ship is said to be in the same\nplace, supposing it kept the same distance with the parts of the\nneighbouring land; though perhaps the earth hath turned round, and so\nboth chess-men, and board, and ship, have every one changed place, in\nrespect of remoter bodies, which have kept the same distance one with\nanother. But yet the distance from certain parts of the board being\nthat which determines the place of the chess-men; and the distance from\nthe fixed parts of the cabin (with which we made the comparison) being\nthat which determined the place of the chess-board; and the fixed parts\nof the earth that by which we determined the place of the ship,\u2014these\nthings may be said to be in the same place in those respects: though\ntheir distance from some other things, which in this matter we did not\nconsider, being varied, they have undoubtedly changed place in that\nrespect; and we ourselves shall think so, when we have occasion to\ncompare them with those other.\n\n9. Place relative to a present purpose.\n\nBut this modification of distance we call place, being made by men for\ntheir common use, that by it they might be able to design the\nparticular position of things, where they had occasion for such\ndesignation; men consider and determine of this place by reference to\nthose adjacent things which best served to their present purpose,\nwithout considering other things which, to another purpose, would\nbetter determine the place of the same thing. Thus in the chess-board,\nthe use of the designation of the place of each chess-man being\ndetermined only within that chequered piece of wood, it would cross\nthat purpose to measure it by anything else; but when these very\nchess-men are put up in a bag, if any one should ask where the black\nking is, it would be proper to determine the place by the part of the\nroom it was in, and not by the chessboard; there being another use of\ndesigning the place it is now in, than when in play it was on the\nchessboard, and so must be determined by other bodies. So if any one\nshould ask, in what place are the verses which report the story of\nNisus and Euryalus, it would be very improper to determine this place,\nby saying, they were in such a part of the earth, or in Bodley\u2019s\nlibrary: but the right designation of the place would be by the parts\nof Virgil\u2019s works; and the proper answer would be, that these verses\nwere about the middle of the ninth book of his AEneids, and that they\nhave been always constantly in the same place ever since Virgil was\nprinted: which is true, though the book itself hath moved a thousand\ntimes, the use of the idea of place here being, to know in what part of\nthe book that story is, that so, upon occasion, we may know where to\nfind it, and have recourse to it for use.\n\n10. Place of the universe.\n\nThat our idea of place is nothing else but such a relative position of\nanything as I have before mentioned, I think is plain, and will be\neasily admitted, when we consider that we can have no idea of the place\nof the universe, though we can of all the parts of it; because beyond\nthat we have not the idea of any fixed, distinct, particular beings, in\nreference to which we can imagine it to have any relation of distance;\nbut all beyond it is one uniform space or expansion, wherein the mind\nfinds no variety, no marks. For to say that the world is somewhere,\nmeans no more than that it does exist; this, though a phrase borrowed\nfrom place, signifying only its existence, not location: and when one\ncan find out, and frame in his mind, clearly and distinctly the place\nof the universe, he will be able to tell us whether it moves or stands\nstill in the undistinguishable inane of infinite space: though it be\ntrue that the word place has sometimes a more confused sense, and\nstands for that space which anybody takes up; and so the universe is in\na place. The idea, therefore, of place we have by the same means that\nwe get the idea of space, (whereof this is but a particular limited\nconsideration,) viz. by our sight and touch; by either of which we\nreceive into our minds the ideas of extension or distance.\n\n11. Extension and Body not the same.\n\nThere are some that would persuade us, that body and extension are the\nsame thing, who either change the signification of words, which I would\nnot suspect them of,\u2014they having so severely condemned the philosophy\nof others, because it hath been too much placed in the uncertain\nmeaning, or deceitful obscurity of doubtful or insignificant terms. If,\ntherefore, they mean by body and extension the same that other people\ndo, viz. by BODY something that is solid and extended, whose parts are\nseparable and movable different ways; and by EXTENSION, only the space\nthat lies between the extremities of those solid coherent parts, and\nwhich is possessed by them,\u2014they confound very different ideas one with\nanother; for I appeal to every man\u2019s own thoughts, whether the idea of\nspace be not as distinct from that of solidity, as it is from the idea\nof scarlet colour? It is true, solidity cannot exist without extension,\nneither can scarlet colour exist without extension, but this hinders\nnot, but that they are distinct ideas. Many ideas require others, as\nnecessary to their existence or conception, which yet are very distinct\nideas. Motion can neither be, nor be conceived, without space; and yet\nmotion is not space, nor space motion; space can exist without it, and\nthey are very distinct ideas; and so, I think, are those of space and\nsolidity. Solidity is so inseparable an idea from body, that upon that\ndepends its filling of space, its contact, impulse, and communication\nof motion upon impulse. And if it be a reason to prove that spirit is\ndifferent from body, because thinking includes not the idea of\nextension in it; the same reason will be as valid, I suppose, to prove\nthat space is not body, because it includes not the idea of solidity in\nit; SPACE and SOLIDITY being as distinct ideas as THINKING and\nEXTENSION, and as wholly separable in the mind one from another. Body\nthen and extension, it is evident, are two distinct ideas. For,\n\n12. Extension not solidity.\n\nFirst, Extension includes no solidity, nor resistance to the motion of\nbody, as body does.\n\n13. The parts of space inseparable, both really and mentally.\n\nSecondly, The parts of pure space are inseparable one from the other;\nso that the continuity cannot be separated, both neither really nor\nmentally. For I demand of any one to remove any part of it from\nanother, with which it is continued, even so much as in thought. To\ndivide and separate actually is, as I think, by removing the parts one\nfrom another, to make two superficies, where before there was a\ncontinuity: and to divide mentally is, to make in the mind two\nsuperficies, where before there was a continuity, and consider them as\nremoved one from the other; which can only be done in things considered\nby the mind as capable of being separated; and by separation, of\nacquiring new distinct superficies, which they then have not, but are\ncapable of. But neither of these ways of separation, whether real or\nmental, is, as I think, compatible to pure space.\n\nIt is true, a man may consider so much of such a space as is answerable\nor commensurate to a foot, without considering the rest, which is,\nindeed, a partial consideration, but not so much as mental separation\nor division; since a man can no more mentally divide, without\nconsidering two superficies separate one from the other, than he can\nactually divide, without making two superficies disjoined one from the\nother: but a partial consideration is not separating. A man may\nconsider light in the sun without its heat, or mobility in body without\nits extension, without thinking of their separation. One is only a\npartial consideration, terminating in one alone; and the other is a\nconsideration of both, as existing separately.\n\n14. The parts of space immovable.\n\nThirdly, The parts of pure space are immovable, which follows from\ntheir inseparability; motion being nothing but change of distance\nbetween any two things; but this cannot be between parts that are\ninseparable, which, therefore, must needs be at perpetual rest one\namongst another.\n\nThus the determined idea of simple space distinguishes it plainly and\nsufficiently from body; since its parts are inseparable, immovable, and\nwithout resistance to the motion of body.\n\n15. The Definition of Extension explains it not.\n\nIf any one ask me WHAT this space I speak of IS, I will tell him when\nhe tells me what his extension is. For to say, as is usually done, that\nextension is to have partes extra partes, is to say only, that\nextension is extension. For what am I the better informed in the nature\nof extension, when I am told that extension is to have parts that are\nextended, exterior to parts that are extended, i. e. extension consists\nof extended parts? As if one, asking what a fibre was, I should answer\nhim,\u2014that it was a thing made up of several fibres. Would he thereby be\nenabled to understand what a fibre was better than he did before? Or\nrather, would he not have reason to think that my design was to make\nsport with him, rather than seriously to instruct him?\n\n16. Division of Beings into Bodies and Spirits proves not Space and\nBody the same.\n\nThose who contend that space and body are the same, bring this\ndilemma:\u2014either this space is something or nothing; if nothing be\nbetween two bodies, they must necessarily touch; if it be allowed to be\nsomething, they ask, Whether it be body or spirit? To which I answer by\nanother question, Who told them that there was, or could be, nothing;\nbut SOLID BEINGS, WHICH COULD NOT THINK, and THINKING BEINGS THAT WERE\nNOT EXTENDED?\u2014which is all they mean by the terms BODY and SPIRIT.\n\n17. Substance, which we know not, no Proof against Space without Body.\n\nIf it be demanded (as usually it is) whether this space, void of body,\nbe SUBSTANCE or ACCIDENT, I shall readily answer I know not; nor shall\nbe ashamed to own my ignorance, till they that ask show me a clear\ndistinct idea of substance.\n\n18. Different meanings of substance.\n\nI endeavour as much as I can to deliver myself from those fallacies\nwhich we are apt to put upon ourselves, by taking words for things. It\nhelps not our ignorance to feign a knowledge where we have none, by\nmaking a noise with sounds, without clear and distinct significations.\nNames made at pleasure, neither alter the nature of things, nor make us\nunderstand them, but as they are signs of and stand for determined\nideas. And I desire those who lay so much stress on the sound of these\ntwo syllables, SUBSTANCE, to consider whether applying it, as they do,\nto the infinite, incomprehensible God, to finite spirits, and to body,\nit be in the same sense; and whether it stands for the same idea, when\neach of those three so different beings are called substances. If so,\nwhether it will thence follow\u2014that God, spirits, and body, agreeing in\nthe same common nature of substance, differ not any otherwise than in a\nbare different MODIFICATION of that substance; as a tree and a pebble,\nbeing in the same sense body, and agreeing in the common nature of\nbody, differ only in a bare modification of that common matter, which\nwill be a very harsh doctrine. If they say, that they apply it to God,\nfinite spirit, and matter, in three different significations and that\nit stands for one idea when God is said to be a substance; for another\nwhen the soul is called substance; and for a third when body is called\nso;\u2014if the name substance stands for three several distinct ideas, they\nwould do well to make known those distinct ideas, or at least to give\nthree distinct names to them, to prevent in so important a notion the\nconfusion and errors that will naturally follow from the promiscuous\nuse of so doubtful a term; which is so far from being suspected to have\nthree distinct, that in ordinary use it has scarce one clear distinct\nsignification. And if they can thus make three distinct ideas of\nsubstance, what hinders why another may not make a fourth?\n\n19. Substance and accidents of little use in Philosophy.\n\nThey who first ran into the notion of ACCIDENTS, as a sort of real\nbeings that needed something to inhere in, were forced to find out the\nword SUBSTANCE to support them. Had the poor Indian philosopher (who\nimagined that the earth also wanted something to bear it up) but\nthought of this word substance, he needed not to have been at the\ntrouble to find an elephant to support it, and a tortoise to support\nhis elephant: the word substance would have done it effectually. And he\nthat inquired might have taken it for as good an answer from an Indian\nphilosopher,\u2014that substance, without knowing what it is, is that which\nsupports the earth, as take it for a sufficient answer and good\ndoctrine from our European philosophers,\u2014that substance, without\nknowing what it is, is that which supports accidents. So that of\nsubstance, we have no idea of what it is, but only a confused obscure\none of what it does.\n\n20. Sticking on and under-propping.\n\nWhatever a learned man may do here, an intelligent American, who\ninquired into the nature of things, would scarce take it for a\nsatisfactory account, if, desiring to learn our architecture, he should\nbe told that a pillar is a thing supported by a basis, and a basis\nsomething that supported a pillar. Would he not think himself mocked,\ninstead of taught, with such an account as this? And a stranger to them\nwould be very liberally instructed in the nature of books, and the\nthings they contained, if he should be told that all learned books\nconsisted of paper and letters, and that letters were things inhering\nin paper, and paper a thing that held forth letters: a notable way of\nhaving clear ideas of letters and paper. But were the Latin words,\ninhaerentia and substantio, put into the plain English ones that answer\nthem, and were called STICKING ON and UNDER-PROPPING, they would better\ndiscover to us the very great clearness there is in the doctrine of\nsubstance and accidents, and show of what use they are in deciding of\nquestions in philosophy.\n\n21. A Vacuum beyond the utmost Bounds of Body.\n\nBut to return to our idea of space. If body be not supposed infinite,\n(which I think no one will affirm,) I would ask, whether, if God placed\na man at the extremity of corporeal beings, he could not stretch his\nhand beyond his body? If he could, then he would put his arm where\nthere was before space without body; and if there he spread his\nfingers, there would still be space between them without body. If he\ncould not stretch out his hand, it must be because of some external\nhindrance; (for we suppose him alive, with such a power of moving the\nparts of his body that he hath now, which is not in itself impossible,\nif God so pleased to have it; or at least it is not impossible for God\nso to move him:) and then I ask,\u2014whether that which hinders his hand\nfrom moving outwards be substance or accident, something or nothing?\nAnd when they have resolved that, they will be able to resolve\nthemselves,\u2014what that is, which is or may be between two bodies at a\ndistance, that is not body, and has no solidity. In the mean time, the\nargument is at least as good, that, where nothing hinders, (as beyond\nthe utmost bounds of all bodies,) a body put in motion may move on, as\nwhere there is nothing between, there two bodies must necessarily\ntouch. For pure space between is sufficient to take away the necessity\nof mutual contact; but bare space in the way is not sufficient to stop\nmotion. The truth is, these men must either own that they think body\ninfinite, though they are loth to speak it out, or else affirm that\nspace is not body. For I would fain meet with that thinking man that\ncan in his thoughts set any bounds to space, more than he can to\nduration; or by thinking hope to arrive at the end of either. And\ntherefore, if his idea of eternity be infinite, so is his idea of\nimmensity; they are both finite or infinite alike.\n\n22. The Power of Annihilation proves a Vacuum.\n\nFarther, those who assert the impossibility of space existing without\nmatter, must not only make body infinite, but must also deny a power in\nGod to annihilate any part of matter. No one, I suppose, will deny that\nGod can put an end to all motion that is in matter, and fix all the\nbodies of the universe in a perfect quiet and rest, and continue them\nso long as he pleases. Whoever then will allow that God can, during\nsuch a general rest, ANNIHILATE either this book or the body of him\nthat reads it, must necessarily admit the possibility of a vacuum. For,\nit is evident that the space that was filled by the parts of the\nannihilated body will still remain, and be a space without body. For\nthe circumambient bodies being in perfect rest, are a wall of adamant,\nand in that state make it a perfect impossibility for any other body to\nget into that space. And indeed the necessary motion of one particle of\nmatter into the place from whence another particle of matter is\nremoved, is but a consequence from the supposition of plenitude; which\nwill therefore need some better proof than a supposed matter of fact,\nwhich experiment can never make out;\u2014our own clear and distinct ideas\nplainly satisfying that there is no necessary connexion between space\nand solidity, since we can conceive the one without the other. And\nthose who dispute for or against a vacuum, do thereby confess they have\ndistinct IDEAS of vacuum and plenum, i. e. that they have an idea of\nextension void of solidity, though they deny its EXISTENCE; or else\nthey dispute about nothing at all. For they who so much alter the\nsignification of words, as to call extension body, and consequently\nmake the whole essence of body to be nothing but pure extension without\nsolidity, must talk absurdly whenever they speak of vacuum; since it is\nimpossible for extension to be without extension. For vacuum, whether\nwe affirm or deny its existence, signifies space without body; whose\nvery existence no one can deny to be possible, who will not make matter\ninfinite, and take from God a power to annihilate any particle of it.\n\n23. Motion proves a Vacuum.\n\nBut not to go so far as beyond the utmost bounds of body in the\nuniverse, nor appeal to God\u2019s omnipotency to find a vacuum, the motion\nof bodies that are in our view and neighbourhood seems to me plainly to\nevince it. For I desire any one so to divide a solid body, of any\ndimension he pleases, as to make it possible for the solid parts to\nmove up and down freely every way within the bounds of that\nsuperficies, if there be not left in it a void space as big as the\nleast part into which he has divided the said solid body. And if, where\nthe least particle of the body divided is as big as a mustard-seed, a\nvoid space equal to the bulk of a mustard-seed be requisite to make\nroom for the free motion of the parts of the divided body within the\nbounds of its superficies, where the particles of matter are\n100,000,000 less than a mustard-seed, there must also be a space void\nof solid matter as big as 100,000,000 part of a mustard-seed; for if it\nhold in the one it will hold in the other, and so on IN INFINITUM. And\nlet this void space be as little as it will, it destroys the hypothesis\nof plenitude. For if there can be a space void of body equal to the\nsmallest separate particle of matter now existing in nature, it is\nstill space without body; and makes as great a difference between space\nand body as if it were mega chasma, a distance as wide as any in\nnature. And therefore, if we suppose not the void space necessary to\nmotion equal to the least parcel of the divided solid matter, but to\n1/10 or 1/1000 of it, the same consequence will always follow of space\nwithout matter.\n\n24. The Ideas of Space and Body distinct.\n\nBut the question being here,\u2014Whether the idea of space or extension be\nthe same with the idea of body? it is not necessary to prove the real\nexistence of a VACUUM, but the idea of it; which it is plain men have\nwhen they inquire and dispute whether there be a VACUUM or no. For if\nthey had not the idea of space without body, they could not make a\nquestion about its existence: and if their idea of body did not include\nin it something more than the bare idea of space, they could have no\ndoubt about the plenitude of the world; and it would be as absurd to\ndemand, whether there were space without body, as whether there were\nspace without space, or body without body, since these were but\ndifferent names of the same idea.\n\n25. Extension being inseparable from Body, proves it not the same.\n\nIt is true, the idea of extension joins itself so inseparably with all\nvisible, and most tangible qualities, that it suffers us to SEE no one,\nor FEEL very few external objects, without taking in impressions of\nextension too. This readiness of extension to make itself be taken\nnotice of so constantly with other ideas, has been the occasion, I\nguess, that some have made the whole essence of body to consist in\nextension; which is not much to be wondered at, since some have had\ntheir minds, by their eyes and touch, (the busiest of all our senses,)\nso filled with the idea of extension, and, as it were, wholly possessed\nwith it, that they allowed no existence to anything that had not\nextension. I shall not now argue with those men, who take the measure\nand possibility of all being only from their narrow and gross\nimaginations: but having here to do only with those who conclude the\nessence of body to be extension, because they say they cannot imagine\nany sensible quality of any body without extension,\u2014I shall desire them\nto consider, that, had they reflected on their ideas of tastes and\nsmells as much as on those of sight and touch; nay, had they examined\ntheir ideas of hunger and thirst, and several other pains, they would\nhave found that THEY included in them no idea of extension at all,\nwhich is but an affection of body, as well as the rest, discoverable by\nour senses, which are scarce acute enough to look into the pure\nessences of things.\n\n26. Essences of Things.\n\nIf those ideas which are constantly joined to all others, must\ntherefore be concluded to be the essence of those things which have\nconstantly those ideas joined to them, and are inseparable from them;\nthen unity is without doubt the essence of everything. For there is not\nany object of sensation or reflection which does not carry with it the\nidea of one: but the weakness of this kind of argument we have already\nshown sufficiently.\n\n27. Ideas of Space and Solidity distinct.\n\nTo conclude: whatever men shall think concerning the existence of a\nVACUUM, this is plain to me\u2014that we have as clear an idea of space\ndistinct from solidity, as we have of solidity distinct from motion, or\nmotion from space. We have not any two more distinct ideas; and we can\nas easily conceive space without solidity, as we can conceive body or\nspace without motion, though it be never so certain that neither body\nnor motion can exist without space. But whether any one will take space\nto be only a RELATION resulting from the existence of other beings at a\ndistance; or whether they will think the words of the most knowing King\nSolomon, \u2018The heaven, and the heaven of heavens, cannot contain thee;\u2019\nor those more emphatical ones of the inspired philosopher St. Paul, \u2018In\nhim we live, move, and have our being,\u2019 are to be understood in a\nliteral sense, I leave every one to consider: only our idea of space\nis, I think, such as I have mentioned, and distinct from that of body.\nFor, whether we consider, in matter itself, the distance of its\ncoherent solid parts, and call it, in respect of those solid parts,\nextension; or whether, considering it as lying between the extremities\nof any body in its several dimensions, we call it length, breadth, and\nthickness; or else, considering it as lying between any two bodies or\npositive beings, without any consideration whether there be any matter\nor not between, we call it distance;\u2014however named or considered, it is\nalways the same uniform simple idea of space, taken from objects about\nwhich our senses have been conversant; whereof, having settled ideas in\nour minds, we can revive, repeat, and add them one to another as often\nas we will, and consider the space or distance so imagined, either as\nfilled with solid parts, so that another body cannot come there without\ndisplacing and thrusting out the body that was there before; or else as\nvoid of solidity, so that a body of equal dimensions to that empty or\npure space may be placed in it, without the removing or expulsion of\nanything that was there.\n\n28. Men differ little in clear, simple ideas.\n\nThe knowing precisely what our words stand for, would, I imagine, in\nthis as well as a great many other cases, quickly end the dispute. For\nI am apt to think that men, when they come to examine them, find their\nsimple ideas all generally to agree, though in discourse with one\nanother they perhaps confound one another with different names. I\nimagine that men who abstract their thoughts, and do well examine the\nideas of their own minds, cannot much differ in thinking; however they\nmay perplex themselves with words, according to the way of speaking of\nthe several schools or sects they have been bred up in: though amongst\nunthinking men, who examine not scrupulously and carefully their own\nideas, and strip them not from the marks men use for them, but confound\nthem with words, there must be endless dispute, wrangling, and jargon;\nespecially if they be learned, bookish men, devoted to some sect, and\naccustomed to the language of it, and have learned to talk after\nothers. But if it should happen that any two thinking men should really\nhave different ideas, I do not see how they could discourse or argue\none with another. Here I must not be mistaken, to think that every\nfloating imagination in men\u2019s brains is presently of that sort of ideas\nI speak of. It is not easy for the mind to put off those confused\nnotions and prejudices it has imbibed from custom, inadvertency, and\ncommon conversation. It requires pains and assiduity to examine its\nideas, till it resolves them into those clear and distinct simple ones,\nout of which they are compounded; and to see which, amongst its simple\nones, have or have not a NECESSARY connexion and dependence one upon\nanother. Till a man doth this in the primary and original notions of\nthings, he builds upon floating and uncertain principles, and will\noften find himself at a loss.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIV.\nIDEA OF DURATION AND ITS SIMPLE MODES.\n\n\n1. Duration is fleeting Extension.\n\nThere is another sort of distance, or length, the idea whereof we get\nnot from the permanent parts of space, but from the fleeting and\nperpetually perishing parts of succession. This we call DURATION; the\nsimple modes whereof are any different lengths of it whereof we have\ndistinct ideas, as HOURS, DAYS, YEARS, &c., TIME and ETERNITY.\n\n2. Its Idea from Reflection on the Train of our Ideas.\n\nThe answer of a great man, to one who asked what time was: Si non rogas\nintelligo, (which amounts to this; The more I set myself to think of\nit, the less I understand it,) might perhaps persuade one that time,\nwhich reveals all other things, is itself not to be discovered.\nDuration, time, and eternity, are, not without reason, thought to have\nsomething very abstruse in their nature. But however remote these may\nseem from our comprehension, yet if we trace them right to their\noriginals, I doubt not but one of those sources of all our knowledge,\nviz. sensation and reflection, will be able to furnish us with these\nideas, as clear and distinct as many others which are thought much less\nobscure; and we shall find that the idea of eternity itself is derived\nfrom the same common original with the rest of our ideas.\n\n3. Nature and origin of the idea of Duration.\n\nTo understand TIME and ETERNITY aright, we ought with attention to\nconsider what idea it is we have of DURATION, and how we came by it. It\nis evident to any one who will but observe what passes in his own mind,\nthat there is a train of ideas which constantly succeed one another in\nhis understanding, as long as he is awake. Reflection on these\nappearances of several ideas one after another in our minds, is that\nwhich furnishes us with the idea of SUCCESSION: and the distance\nbetween any parts of that succession, or between the appearance of any\ntwo ideas in our minds, is that we call DURATION. For whilst we are\nthinking, or whilst we receive successively several ideas in our minds,\nwe know that we do exist; and so we call the existence, or the\ncontinuation of the existence of ourselves, or anything else,\ncommensurate to the succession of any ideas in our minds, the duration\nof ourselves, or any such other thing co-existent with our thinking.\n\n4. Proof that its idea is got from reflection on the train of our\nideas.\n\nThat we have our notion of succession and duration from this original,\nviz. from reflection on the train of ideas, which we find to appear one\nafter another in our own minds, seems plain to me, in that we have no\nperception of duration but by considering the train of ideas that take\ntheir turns in our understandings. When that succession of ideas\nceases, our perception of duration ceases with it; which every one\nclearly experiments in himself, whilst he sleeps soundly, whether an\nhour or a day, a month or a year; of which duration of things, while he\nsleeps or thinks not, he has no perception at all, but it is quite lost\nto him; and the moment wherein he leaves off to think, till the moment\nhe begins to think again, seems to him to have no distance. And so I\ndoubt not it would be to a waking man, if it were possible for him to\nkeep ONLY ONE idea in his mind, without variation and the succession of\nothers. And we see, that one who fixes his thoughts very intently on\none thing, so as to take but little notice of the succession of ideas\nthat pass in his mind whilst he is taken up with that earnest\ncontemplation, lets slip out of his account a good part of that\nduration, and thinks that time shorter than it is. But if sleep\ncommonly unites the distant parts of duration, it is because during\nthat time we have no succession of ideas in our minds. For if a man,\nduring his sleep, dreams, and variety of ideas make themselves\nperceptible in his mind one after another, he hath then, during such\ndreaming, a sense of duration, and of the length of it. By which it is\nto me very clear, that men derive their ideas of duration from their\nreflections on the train of the ideas they observe to succeed one\nanother in their own understandings; without which observation they can\nhave no notion of duration, whatever may happen in the world.\n\n5. The Idea of Duration applicable to Things whilst we sleep.\n\nIndeed a man having, from reflecting on the succession and number of\nhis own thoughts, got the notion or idea of duration, he can apply that\nnotion to things which exist while he does not think; as he that has\ngot the idea of extension from bodies by his sight or touch, can apply\nit to distances, where no body is seen or felt. And therefore, though a\nman has no perception of the length of duration which passed whilst he\nslept or thought not; yet, having observed the revolution of days and\nnights, and found the length of their duration to be in appearance\nregular and constant, he can, upon the supposition that that revolution\nhas proceeded after the same manner whilst he was asleep or thought\nnot, as it used to do at other times, he can, I say, imagine and make\nallowance for the length of duration whilst he slept. But if Adam and\nEve, (when they were alone in the world,) instead of their ordinary\nnight\u2019s sleep, had passed the whole twenty-four hours in one continued\nsleep, the duration of that twenty-four hours had been irrecoverably\nlost to them, and been for ever left out of their account of time.\n\n6. The Idea of Succession not from Motion.\n\nThus by reflecting on the appearing of various ideas one after another\nin our understandings, we get the notion of succession; which, if any\none should think we did rather get from our observation of motion by\nour senses, he will perhaps be of my mind when he considers, that even\nmotion produces in his mind an idea of succession no otherwise than as\nit produces there a continued train of distinguishable ideas. For a man\nlooking upon a body really moving, perceives yet no motion at all\nunless that motion produces a constant train of successive ideas: v.g.\na man becalmed at sea, out of sight of land, in a fair day, may look on\nthe sun, or sea, or ship, a whole hour together, and perceive no motion\nat all in either; though it be certain that two, and perhaps all of\nthem, have moved during that time a great way. But as soon as he\nperceives either of them to have changed distance with some other body,\nas soon as this motion produces any new idea in him, then he perceives\nthat there has been motion. But wherever a man is, with all things at\nrest about him, without perceiving any motion at all,\u2014if during this\nhour of quiet he has been thinking, he will perceive the various ideas\nof his own thoughts in his own mind, appearing one after another, and\nthereby observe and find succession where he could observe no motion.\n\n7. Very slow motions unperceived.\n\nAnd this, I think, is the reason why motions very slow, though they are\nconstant, are not perceived by us; because in their remove from one\nsensible part towards another, their change of distance is so slow,\nthat it causes no new ideas in us, but a good while one after another.\nAnd so not causing a constant train of new ideas to follow one another\nimmediately in our minds, we have no perception of motion; which\nconsisting in a constant succession, we cannot perceive that succession\nwithout a constant succession of varying ideas arising from it.\n\n8. Very swift motions unperceived.\n\nOn the contrary, things that move so swift as not to affect the senses\ndistinctly with several distinguishable distances of their motion, and\nso cause not any train of ideas in the mind, are not also perceived.\nFor anything that moves round about in a circle, in less times than our\nideas are wont to succeed one another in our minds, is not perceived to\nmove; but seems to be a perfect entire circle of the matter or colour,\nand not a part of a circle in motion.\n\n9. The Train of Ideas has a certain Degree of Quickness.\n\nHence I leave it to others to judge, whether it be not probable that\nour ideas do, whilst we are awake, succeed one another in our minds at\ncertain distances; not much unlike the images in the inside of a\nlantern, turned round by the heat of a candle. This appearance of\ntheirs in train, though perhaps it may be sometimes faster and\nsometimes slower, yet, I guess, varies not very much in a waking man:\nthere seem to be certain bounds to the quickness and slowness of the\nsuccession of those ideas one to another in our minds, beyond which\nthey can neither delay nor hasten.\n\n10. Real succession in swift motions without sense of succession.\n\nThe reason I have for this odd conjecture is, from observing that, in\nthe impressions made upon any of our senses, we can but to a certain\ndegree perceive any succession; which, if exceeding quick, the sense of\nsuccession is lost, even in cases where it is evident that there is a\nreal succession. Let a cannon-bullet pass through a room, and in its\nway take with it any limb, or fleshy parts of a man, it is as clear as\nany demonstration can be, that it must strike successively the two\nsides of the room: it is also evident, that it must touch one part of\nthe flesh first, and another after, and so in succession: and yet, I\nbelieve, nobody who ever felt the pain of such a shot, or heard the\nblow against the two distant walls, could perceive any succession\neither in the pain or sound of so swift a stroke. Such a part of\nduration as this, wherein we perceive no succession, is that which we\ncall an INSTANT, and is that which takes up the time of only one idea\nin our minds, without the succession of another; wherein, therefore, we\nperceive no succession at all.\n\n11. In slow motions.\n\nThis also happens where the motion is so slow as not to supply a\nconstant train of fresh ideas to the senses, as fast as the mind is\ncapable of receiving new ones into it; and so other ideas of our own\nthoughts, having room to come into our minds between those offered to\nour senses by the moving body, there the sense of motion is lost; and\nthe body, though it really moves, yet, not changing perceivable\ndistance with some other bodies as fast as the ideas of our own minds\ndo naturally follow one another in train, the thing seems to stand\nstill; as is evident in the hands of clocks, and shadows of sun-dials,\nand other constant but slow motions, where, though, after certain\nintervals, we perceive, by the change of distance, that it hath moved,\nyet the motion itself we perceive not.\n\n12. This Train, the Measure of other Successions.\n\nSo that to me it seems, that the constant and regular succession of\nIDEAS in a waking man, is, as it were, the measure and standard of all\nother successions. Whereof if any one either exceeds the pace of our\nideas, as where two sounds or pains, &c., take up in their succession\nthe duration of but one idea; or else where any motion or succession is\nso slow, as that it keeps not pace with the ideas in our minds, or the\nquickness in which they take their turns, as when any one or more ideas\nin their ordinary course come into our mind, between those which are\noffered to the sight by the different perceptible distances of a body\nin motion, or between sounds or smells following one another,\u2014there\nalso the sense of a constant continued succession is lost, and we\nperceive it not, but with certain gaps of rest between.\n\n13. The Mind cannot fix long on one invariable Idea.\n\nIf it be so, that the ideas of our minds, whilst we have any there, do\nconstantly change and shift in a continual succession, it would be\nimpossible, may any one say, for a man to think long of any one thing.\nBy which, if it be meant that a man may have one self-same single idea\na long time alone in his mind, without any variation at all, I think,\nin matter of fact, it is not possible. For which (not knowing how the\nideas of our minds are framed, of what materials they are made, whence\nthey have their light, and how they come to make their appearances) I\ncan give no other reason but experience: and I would have any one try,\nwhether he can keep one unvaried single idea in his mind, without any\nother, for any considerable time together.\n\n14. Proof.\n\nFor trial, let him take any figure, any degree of light or whiteness,\nor what other he pleases, and he will, I suppose, find it difficult to\nkeep all other ideas out of his mind; but that some, either of another\nkind, or various considerations of that idea, (each of which\nconsiderations is a new idea,) will constantly succeed one another in\nhis thoughts, let him be as wary as he can.\n\n15. The extent of our power over the succession of our ideas.\n\nAll that is in a man\u2019s power in this case, I think, is only to mind and\nobserve what the ideas are that take their turns in his understanding;\nor else to direct the sort, and call in such as he hath a desire or use\nof: but hinder the constant succession of fresh ones, I think he\ncannot, though he may commonly choose whether he will heedfully observe\nand consider them.\n\n16. Ideas, however made, include no sense of motion.\n\nWhether these several ideas in a man\u2019s mind be made by certain motions,\nI will not here dispute; but this I am sure, that they include no idea\nof motion in their appearance; and if a man had not the idea of motion\notherwise, I think he would have none at all, which is enough to my\npresent purpose; and sufficiently shows that the notice we take of the\nideas of our own minds, appearing there one after another, is that\nwhich gives us the idea of succession and duration, without which we\nshould have no such ideas at all. It is not then MOTION, but the\nconstant train of IDEAS in our minds whilst we are waking, that\nfurnishes us with the idea of duration; whereof motion no otherwise\ngives us any perception than as it causes in our minds a constant\nsuccession of ideas, as I have before showed: and we have as clear an\nidea of succession and duration, by the train of other ideas succeeding\none another in our minds, without the idea of any motion, as by the\ntrain of ideas caused by the uninterrupted sensible change of distance\nbetween two bodies, which we have from motion; and therefore we should\nas well have the idea of duration were there no sense of motion at all.\n\n17. Time is Duration set out by Measures.\n\nHaving thus got the idea of duration, the next thing natural for the\nmind to do, is to get some measure of this common duration, whereby it\nmight judge of its different lengths, and consider the distinct order\nwherein several things exist; without which a great part of our\nknowledge would be confused, and a great part of history be rendered\nvery useless. This consideration of duration, as set out by certain\nperiods and marked by certain measures or epochs, is that, I think,\nwhich most properly we call TIME.\n\n18. A good Measure of Time must divide its whole Duration into equal\nPeriods.\n\nIn the measuring of extension, there is nothing more required but the\napplication of the standard or measure we make use of to the thing of\nwhose extension we would be informed. But in the measuring of duration\nthis cannot be done, because no two different parts of succession can\nbe put together to measure one another. And nothing being a measure of\nduration but duration, as nothing is of extension but extension, we\ncannot keep by us any standing, unvarying measure of duration, which\nconsists in a constant fleeting succession, as we can of certain\nlengths of extension, as inches, feet, yards, &c., marked out in\npermanent parcels of matter. Nothing then could serve well for a\nconvenient measure of time, but what has divided the whole length of\nits duration into apparently equal portions, by constantly repeated\nperiods. What portions of duration are not distinguished, or considered\nas distinguished and measured, by such periods, come not so properly\nunder the notion of time; as appears by such phrases as these, viz.\n\u2018Before all time,\u2019 and \u2018When time shall be no more.\u2019\n\n19. The Revolutions of the Sun and Moon, the properest Measures of Time\nfor mankind.\n\nThe diurnal and annual revolutions of the sun, as having been, from the\nbeginning of nature, constant, regular, and universally observable by\nall mankind, and supposed equal to one another, have been with reason\nmade use of for the measure of duration. But the distinction of days\nand years having depended on the motion of the sun, it has brought this\nmistake with it, that it has been thought that motion and duration were\nthe measure one of another. For men, in the measuring of the length of\ntime, having been accustomed to the ideas of minutes, hours, days,\nmonths, years, &c., which they found themselves upon any mention of\ntime or duration presently to think on, all which portions of time were\nmeasured out by the motion of those heavenly bodies, they were apt to\nconfound time and motion; or at least to think that they had a\nnecessary connexion one with another. Whereas any constant periodical\nappearance, or alteration of ideas, in seemingly equidistant spaces of\nduration, if constant and universally observable, would have as well\ndistinguished the intervals of time, as those that have been made use\nof. For, supposing the sun, which some have taken to be a fire, had\nbeen lighted up at the same distance of time that it now every day\ncomes about to the same meridian, and then gone out again about twelve\nhours after, and that in the space of an annual revolution it had\nsensibly increased in brightness and heat, and so decreased\nagain,\u2014would not such regular appearances serve to measure out the\ndistances of duration to all that could observe it, as well without as\nwith motion? For if the appearances were constant, universally\nobservable, in equidistant periods, they would serve mankind for\nmeasure of time as well were the motion away.\n\n20. But not by their Motion, but periodical Appearances.\n\nFor the freezing of water, or the blooming of a plant, returning at\nequidistant periods in all parts of the earth, would as well serve men\nto reckon their years by, as the motions of the sun: and in effect we\nsee, that some people in America counted their years by the coming of\ncertain birds amongst them at their certain seasons, and leaving them\nat others. For a fit of an ague; the sense of hunger or thirst; a smell\nor a taste; or any other idea returning constantly at equidistant\nperiods, and making itself universally be taken notice of, would not\nfail to measure out the course of succession, and distinguish the\ndistances of time. Thus we see that men born blind count time well\nenough by years, whose revolutions yet they cannot distinguish by\nmotions that they perceive not. And I ask whether a blind man, who\ndistinguished his years either by the heat of summer, or cold of\nwinter; by the smell of any flower of the spring, or taste of any fruit\nof the autumn, would not have a better measure of time than the Romans\nhad before the reformation of their calendar by Julius Caesar, or many\nother people, whose years, notwithstanding the motion of the sun, which\nthey pretended to make use of, are very irregular? And it adds no small\ndifficulty to chronology, that the exact lengths of the years that\nseveral nations counted by, are hard to be known, they differing very\nmuch one from another, and I think I may say all of them from the\nprecise motion of the sun. And if the sun moved from the creation to\nthe flood constantly in the equator, and so equally dispersed its light\nand heat to all the habitable parts of the earth, in days all of the\nsame length without its annual variations to the tropics, as a late\ningenious author supposes, I do not think it very easy to imagine, that\n(notwithstanding the motion of the sun) men should in the antediluvian\nworld, from the beginning, count by years, or measure their time by\nperiods that had no sensible mark very obvious to distinguish them by.\n\n21. No two Parts of Duration can be certainly known to be equal.\n\nBut perhaps it will be said,\u2014without a regular motion, such as of the\nsun, or some other, how could it ever be known that such periods were\nequal? To which I answer,\u2014the equality of any other returning\nappearances might be known by the same way that that of days was known,\nor presumed to be so at first; which was only by judging of them by the\ntrain of ideas which had passed in men\u2019s minds in the intervals; by\nwhich train of ideas discovering inequality in the natural days, but\nnone in the artificial days, the artificial days, or nuchthaemera, were\nguessed to be equal, which was sufficient to make them serve for a\nmeasure; though exacter search has since discovered inequality in the\ndiurnal revolutions of the sun, and we know not whether the annual also\nbe not unequal. These yet, by their presumed and apparent equality,\nserve as well to reckon time by (though not to measure the parts of\nduration exactly) as if they could be proved to be exactly equal. We\nmust, therefore, carefully distinguish betwixt duration itself, and the\nmeasures we make use of to judge of its length. Duration, in itself, is\nto be considered as going on in one constant, equal, uniform course:\nbut none of the measures of it which we make use of can be KNOWN to do\nso, nor can we be assured that their assigned parts or periods are\nequal in duration one to another; for two successive lengths of\nduration, however measured, can never be demonstrated to be equal. The\nmotion of the sun, which the world used so long and so confidently for\nan exact measure of duration, has, as I said, been found in its several\nparts unequal. And though men have, of late, made use of a pendulum, as\na more steady and regular motion than that of the sun, or, (to speak\nmore truly,) of the earth;\u2014yet if any one should be asked how he\ncertainly knows that the two successive swings of a pendulum are equal,\nit would be very hard to satisfy him that they are infallibly so; since\nwe cannot be sure that the cause of that motion, which is unknown to\nus, shall always operate equally; and we are sure that the medium in\nwhich the pendulum moves is not constantly the same: either of which\nvarying, may alter the equality of such periods, and thereby destroy\nthe certainty and exactness of the measure by motion, as well as any\nother periods of other appearances; the notion of duration still\nremaining clear, though our measures of it cannot (any of them) be\ndemonstrated to be exact. Since then no two portions of succession can\nbe brought together, it is impossible ever certainly to know their\nequality. All that we can do for a measure of time is, to take such as\nhave continual successive appearances at seemingly equidistant periods;\nof which seeming equality we have no other measure, but such as the\ntrain of our own ideas have lodged in our memories, with the\nconcurrence of other PROBABLE reasons, to persuade us of their\nequality.\n\n22. Time not the Measure of Motion\n\nOne thing seems strange to me,\u2014that whilst all men manifestly measured\ntime by the motion of the great and visible bodies of the world, time\nyet should be defined to be the \u2018measure of motion\u2019: whereas it is\nobvious to every one who reflects ever so little on it, that to measure\nmotion, space is as necessary to be considered as time; and those who\nlook a little farther will find also the bulk of the thing moved\nnecessary to be taken into the computation, by any one who will\nestimate or measure motion so as to judge right of it. Nor indeed does\nmotion any otherwise conduce to the measuring of duration, than as it\nconstantly brings about the return of certain sensible ideas, in\nseeming equidistant periods. For if the motion of the sun were as\nunequal as of a ship driven by unsteady winds, sometimes very slow, and\nat others irregularly very swift; or if, being constantly equally\nswift, it yet was not circular, and produced not the same\nappearances,\u2014it would not at all help us to measure time, any more than\nthe seeming unequal motion of a comet does.\n\n23. Minutes, hours, days, and years are, then, no more Minutes, Hours,\nDays, and Years not necessary Measures of duration, necessary to time\nor duration, than inches, feet, yards, and miles, marked out in any\nmatter, are to extension. For, though we in this part of the universe,\nby the constant use of them, as of periods set out by the revolutions\nof the sun, or as known parts of such periods, have fixed the ideas of\nsuch lengths of duration in our minds, which we apply to all parts of\ntime whose lengths we would consider; yet there may be other parts of\nthe universe, where they no more use these measures of ours, than in\nJapan they do our inches, feet, or miles; but yet something analogous\nto them there must be. For without some regular periodical returns, we\ncould not measure ourselves, or signify to others, the length of any\nduration; though at the same time the world were as full of motion as\nit is now, but no part of it disposed into regular and apparently\nequidistant revolutions. But the different measures that may be made\nuse of for the account of time, do not at all alter the notion of\nduration, which is the thing to be measured; no more than the different\nstandards of a foot and a cubit alter the notion of extension to those\nwho make use of those different measures.\n\n24. Our Measure of Time applicable to Duration before Time.\n\nThe mind having once got such a measure of time as the annual\nrevolution of the sun, can apply that measure to duration wherein that\nmeasure itself did not exist, and with which, in the reality of its\nbeing, it had nothing to do. For should one say, that Abraham was born\nin the two thousand seven hundred and twelfth year of the Julian\nperiod, it is altogether as intelligible as reckoning from the\nbeginning of the world, though there were so far back no motion of the\nsun, nor any motion at all. For, though the Julian period be supposed\nto begin several hundred years before there were really either days,\nnights, or years, marked out by any revolutions of the sun,\u2014yet we\nreckon as right, and thereby measure durations as well, as if really at\nthat time the sun had existed, and kept the same ordinary motion it\ndoth now. The idea of duration equal to an annual revolution of the\nsun, is as easily APPLICABLE in our thoughts to duration, where no sun\nor motion was, as the idea of a foot or yard, taken from bodies here,\ncan be applied in our thoughts to distances beyond the confines of the\nworld, where are no bodies at all.\n\n25. As we can measure space in our thoughts where there is no body.\n\nFor supposing it were 5639 miles, or millions of miles, from this place\nto the remotest body of the universe, (for, being finite, it must be at\na certain distance,) as we suppose it to be 5639 years from this time\nto the first existence of any body in the beginning of the world;\u2014we\ncan, in our thoughts, apply this measure of a year to duration before\nthe creation, or beyond the duration of bodies or motion, as we can\nthis measure of a mile to space beyond the utmost bodies; and by the\none measure duration, where there was no motion, as well as by the\nother measure space in our thoughts, where there is no body.\n\n26. The assumption that the world is neither boundless nor eternal.\n\nIf it be objected to me here, that, in this way of explaining of time,\nI have begged what I should not, viz. that the world is neither eternal\nnor infinite; I answer, That to my present purpose it is not needful,\nin this place, to make use of arguments to evince the world to be\nfinite both in duration and extension. But it being at least as\nconceivable as the contrary, I have certainly the liberty to suppose\nit, as well as any one hath to suppose the contrary; and I doubt not,\nbut that every one that will go about it, may easily conceive in his\nmind the beginning of motion, though not of all duration, and so may\ncome to a step and non ultra in his consideration of motion. So also,\nin his thoughts, he may set limits to body, and the extension belonging\nto it; but not to space, where no body is, the utmost bounds of space\nand duration being beyond the reach of thought, as well as the utmost\nbounds of number are beyond the largest comprehension of the mind; and\nall for the same reason, as we shall see in another place.\n\n27. Eternity.\n\nBy the same means, therefore, and from the same original that we come\nto have the idea of time, we have also that idea which we call\nEternity; viz. having got the idea of succession and duration, by\nreflecting on the train of our own ideas, caused in us either by the\nnatural appearances of those ideas coming constantly of themselves into\nour waking thoughts, or else caused by external objects successively\naffecting our senses; and having from the revolutions of the sun got\nthe ideas of certain lengths of duration,\u2014we can in our thoughts add\nsuch lengths of duration to one another, as often as we please, and\napply them, so added, to durations past or to come. And this we can\ncontinue to do on, without bounds or limits, and proceed in infinitum,\nand apply thus the length of the annual motion of the sun to duration,\nsupposed before the sun\u2019s or any other motion had its being, which is\nno more difficult or absurd, than to apply the notion I have of the\nmoving of a shadow one hour to-day upon the sun-dial to the duration of\nsomething last night, v. g. the burning of a candle, which is now\nabsolutely separate from all actual motion; and it is as impossible for\nthe duration of that flame for an hour last night to co-exist with any\nmotion that now is, or for ever shall be, as for any part of duration,\nthat was before the beginning of the world, to co exist with the motion\nof the sun now. But yet this hinders not but that, having the IDEA of\nthe length of the motion of the shadow on a dial between the marks of\ntwo hours, I can as distinctly measure in my thoughts the duration of\nthat candle-light last night, as I can the duration of anything that\ndoes now exist: and it is no more than to think, that, had the sun\nshone then on the dial, and moved after the same rate it doth now, the\nshadow on the dial would have passed from one hour-line to another\nwhilst that flame of the candle lasted.\n\n28. Our measures of Duration dependent on our ideas.\n\nThe notion of an hour, day, or year, being only the idea I have of the\nlength of certain periodical regular motions, neither of which motions\ndo ever all at once exist, but only in the ideas I have of them in my\nmemory derived from my senses or reflection; I can with the same ease,\nand for the same reason, apply it in my thoughts to duration antecedent\nto all manner of motion, as well as to anything that is but a minute or\na day antecedent to the motion that at this very moment the sun is in.\nAll things past are equally and perfectly at rest; and to this way of\nconsideration of them are all one, whether they were before the\nbeginning of the world, or but yesterday: the measuring of any duration\nby some motion depending not at all on the REAL co-existence of that\nthing to that motion, or any other periods of revolution, but the\nhaving a clear IDEA of the length of some periodical known motion, or\nother interval of duration, in my mind, and applying that to the\nduration of the thing I would measure.\n\n29. The Duration of anything need not be co-existent with the motion we\nmeasure it by.\n\nHence we see that some men imagine the duration of of the world, from\nits first existence to this present year 1689, to have been 5639 years,\nor equal to 5639 annual revolutions of the sun, and others a great deal\nmore; as the Egyptians of old, who in the time of Alexander counted\n23,000 years from the reign of the sun; and the Chinese now, who\naccount the world 3,269,000 years old, or more; which longer duration\nof the world, according to their computation, though I should not\nbelieve to be true, yet I can equally imagine it with them, and as\ntruly understand, and say one is longer than the other, as I\nunderstand, that Methusalem\u2019s life was longer than Enoch\u2019s. And if the\ncommon reckoning of 5639 should be true, (as it may be as well as any\nother assigned,) it hinders not at all my imagining what others mean,\nwhen they make the world one thousand years older, since every one may\nwith the same facility imagine (I do not say believe) the world to be\n50,000 years old, as 5639; and may as well conceive the duration of\n50,000 years as 5639. Whereby it appears that, to the measuring the\nduration of anything by time, it is not requisite that that thing\nshould be co-existent to the motion we measure by, or any other\nperiodical revolution; but it suffices to this purpose, that we have\nthe idea of the length of ANY regular periodical appearances, which we\ncan in our minds apply to duration, with which the motion or appearance\nnever co-existed.\n\n30. Infinity in Duration.\n\nFor, as in the history of the creation delivered by Moses, I can\nimagine that light existed three days before the sun was, or had any\nmotion, barely by thinking that the duration of light before the sun\nwas created was so long as (IF the sun had moved then as it doth now)\nwould have been equal to three of his diurnal revolutions; so by the\nsame way I can have an idea of the chaos, or angels, being created\nbefore there was either light or any continued motion, a minute, an\nhour, a day, a year, or one thousand years. For, if I can but consider\nduration equal to one minute, before either the being or motion of any\nbody, I can add one minute more till I come to sixty; and by the same\nway of adding minutes, hours, or years (i.e. such or such parts of the\nsun\u2019s revolutions, or any other period whereof I have the idea) proceed\nIN INFINITUM, and suppose a duration exceeding as many such periods as\nI can reckon, let me add whilst I will, which I think is the notion we\nhave of eternity; of whose infinity we have no other notion than we\nhave of the infinity of number, to which we can add for ever without\nend.\n\n31. Origin of our Ideas of Duration, and of the measures of it.\n\nAnd thus I think it is plain, that from those two fountains of all\nknowledge before mentioned, viz. reflection and sensation, we got the\nideas of duration, and the measures of it.\n\nFor, First, by observing what passes in our minds, how our ideas there\nin train constantly some vanish and others begin to appear, we come by\nthe idea of SUCCESSION. Secondly, by observing a distance in the parts\nof this succession, we get the idea of DURATION.\n\nThirdly, by sensation observing certain appearances, at certain regular\nand seeming equidistant periods, we get the ideas of certain LENGTHS or\nMEASURES OF DURATION, as minutes, hours, days, years, &c.\n\nFourthly, by being able to repeat those measures of time, or ideas of\nstated length of duration, in our minds, as often as we will, we can\ncome to imagine DURATION,\u2014WHERE NOTHING DOES REALLY ENDURE OR EXIST;\nand thus we imagine to-morrow, next year, or seven years hence.\n\nFifthly, by being able to repeat ideas of any length of time, as of a\nminute, a year, or an age, as often as we will in our own thoughts, and\nadding them one to another, without ever coming to the end of such\naddition, any nearer than we can to the end of number, to which we can\nalways add; we come by the idea of ETERNITY, as the future eternal\nduration of our souls, as well as the eternity of that infinite Being\nwhich must necessarily have always existed.\n\nSixthly, by considering any part of infinite duration, as set out by\nperiodical measures, we come by the idea of what we call TIME in\ngeneral.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XV.\nIDEAS OF DURATION AND EXPANSION, CONSIDERED TOGETHER.\n\n\n1. Both capable of greater and less.\n\nThough we have in the precedent chapters dwelt pretty long on the\nconsiderations of space and duration, yet, they being ideas of general\nconcernment, that have something very abstruse and peculiar in their\nnature, the comparing them one with another may perhaps be of use for\ntheir illustration; and we may have the more clear and distinct\nconception of them by taking a view of them together. Distance or\nspace, in its simple abstract conception, to avoid confusion, I call\nEXPANSION, to distinguish it from extension, which by some is used to\nexpress this distance only as it is in the solid parts of matter, and\nso includes, or at least intimates, the idea of body: whereas the idea\nof pure distance includes no such thing. I prefer also the word\nexpansion to space, because space is often applied to distance of\nfleeting successive parts, which never exist together, as well as to\nthose which are permanent. In both these (viz. expansion and duration)\nthe mind has this common idea of continued lengths, capable of greater\nor less quantities. For a man has as clear an idea of the difference of\nthe length of an hour and a day, as of an inch and a foot.\n\n2. Expansion not bounded by Matter.\n\nThe mind, having got the idea of the length of any part of expansion,\nlet it be a span, or a pace, or what length you will, CAN, as has been\nsaid, repeat that idea, and so, adding it to the former, enlarge its\nidea of length, and make it equal to two spans, or two paces; and so,\nas often as it will, till it equals the distance of any parts of the\nearth one from another, and increase thus till it amounts to the\ndistance of the sun or remotest star. By such a progression as this,\nsetting out from the place where it is, or any other place, it can\nproceed and pass beyond all those lengths, and find nothing to stop its\ngoing on, either in or without body. It is true, we can easily in our\nthoughts come to the end of SOLID extension; the extremity and bounds\nof all body we have no difficulty to arrive at: but when the mind is\nthere, it finds nothing to hinder its progress into this endless\nexpansion; of that it can neither find nor conceive any end. Nor let\nany one say, that beyond the bounds of body, there is nothing at all;\nunless he will confine God within the limits of matter. Solomon, whose\nunderstanding was filled and enlarged with wisdom, seems to have other\nthoughts when he says, \u2018Heaven, and the heaven of heavens, cannot\ncontain thee.\u2019 And he, I think, very much magnifies to himself the\ncapacity of his own understanding, who persuades himself that he can\nextend his thoughts further than God exists, or imagine any expansion\nwhere He is not.\n\n3. Nor Duration by Motion.\n\nJust so is it in duration. The mind having got the idea of any length\nof duration, can double, multiply, and enlarge it, not only beyond its\nown, but beyond the existence of all corporeal beings, and all the\nmeasures of time, taken from the great bodies of all the world and\ntheir motions. But yet every one easily admits, that, though we make\nduration boundless, as certainly it is, we cannot yet extend it beyond\nall being. God, every one easily allows, fills eternity; and it is hard\nto find a reason why any one should doubt that He likewise fills\nimmensity. His infinite being is certainly as boundless one way as\nanother; and methinks it ascribes a little too much to matter to say,\nwhere there is no body, there is nothing.\n\n4. Why Men more easily admit infinite Duration than infinite Expansion.\n\nHence I think we may learn the reason why every one familiarly and\nwithout the least hesitation speaks of and supposes Eternity, and\nsticks not to ascribe INFINITY to DURATION; but it is with more\ndoubting and reserve that many admit or suppose the INFINITY OF SPACE.\nThe reason whereof seems to me to be this,\u2014That duration and extension\nbeing used as names of affections belonging to other beings, we easily\nconceive in God infinite duration, and we cannot avoid doing so: but,\nnot attributing to him extension, but only to matter, which is finite,\nwe are apter to doubt of the existence of expansion without matter; of\nwhich alone we commonly suppose it an attribute. And, therefore, when\nmen pursue their thoughts of space, they are apt to stop at the\nconfines of body: as if space were there at an end too, and reached no\nfurther. Or if their ideas, upon consideration, carry them further, yet\nthey term what is beyond the limits of the universe, imaginary space:\nas if IT were nothing, because there is no body existing in it. Whereas\nduration, antecedent to all body, and to the motions which it is\nmeasured by, they never term imaginary: because it is never supposed\nvoid of some other real existence. And if the names of things may at\nall direct our thoughts towards the original of men\u2019s ideas, (as I am\napt to think they may very much,) one may have occasion to think by the\nname DURATION, that the continuation of existence, with a kind of\nresistance to any destructive force, and the continuation of solidity\n(which is apt to be confounded with, and if we will look into the\nminute anatomical parts of matter, is little different from, hardness)\nwere thought to have some analogy, and gave occasion to words so near\nof kin as durare and durum esse. And that durare is applied to the idea\nof hardness, as well as that of existence, we see in Horace, Epod. xvi.\nferro duravit secula. But, be that as it will, this is certain, that\nwhoever pursues his own thoughts, will find them sometimes launch out\nbeyond the extent of body, into the infinity of space or expansion; the\nidea whereof is distinct and separate from body and all other things:\nwhich may, (to those who please,) be a subject of further meditation.\n\n5. Time to Duration is as Place to Expansion.\n\nTime in general is to duration as place to expansion. They are so much\nof those boundless oceans of eternity and immensity as is set out and\ndistinguished from the rest, as it were by landmarks; and so are made\nuse of to denote the position of FINITE real beings, in respect one to\nanother, in those uniform infinite oceans of duration and space. These,\nrightly considered, are only ideas of determinate distances from\ncertain known points, fixed in distinguishable sensible things, and\nsupposed to keep the same distance one from another. From such points\nfixed in sensible beings we reckon, and from them we measure our\nportions of those infinite quantities; which, so considered, are that\nwhich we call TIME and PLACE. For duration and space being in\nthemselves uniform and boundless, the order and position of things,\nwithout such known settled points, would be lost in them; and all\nthings would lie jumbled in an incurable confusion.\n\n6. Time and Place are taken for so much of either as are set out by the\nExistence and Motion of Bodies.\n\nTime and place, taken thus for determinate distinguishable portions of\nthose infinite abysses of space and duration, set out or supposed to be\ndistinguished from the rest, by marks and known boundaries, have each\nof them a twofold acceptation.\n\nFIRST, Time in general is commonly taken for so much of infinite\nduration as is measured by, and co-existent with, the existence and\nmotions of the great bodies of the universe, as far as we know anything\nof them: and in this sense time begins and ends with the frame of this\nsensible world, as in these phrases before mentioned, \u2018Before all\ntime,\u2019 or, \u2018When time shall be no more.\u2019 Place likewise is taken\nsometimes for that portion of infinite space which is possessed by and\ncomprehended within the material world; and is thereby distinguished\nfrom the rest of expansion; though this may be more properly called\nextension than place. Within these two are confined, and by the\nobservable parts of them are measured and determined, the particular\ntime or duration, and the particular extension and place, of all\ncorporeal beings.\n\n7. Sometimes for so much of either as we design by Measures taken from\nthe Bulk or Motion of Bodies.\n\nSECONDLY, sometimes the word time is used in a larger sense, and is\napplied to parts of that infinite duration, not that were really\ndistinguished and measured out by this real existence, and periodical\nmotions of bodies, that were appointed from the beginning to be for\nsigns and for seasons and for days and years, and are accordingly our\nmeasures of time; but such other portions too of that infinite uniform\nduration, which we upon any occasion do suppose equal to certain\nlengths of measured time; and so consider them as bounded and\ndetermined. For, if we should suppose the creation, or fall of the\nangels, was at the beginning of the Julian period, we should speak\nproperly enough, and should be understood if we said, it is a longer\ntime since the creation of angels than the creation of the world, by\n7640 years: whereby we would mark out so much of that undistinguished\nduration as we suppose equal to, and would have admitted, 7640 annual\nrevolutions of the sun, moving at the rate it now does. And thus\nlikewise we sometimes speak of place, distance, or bulk, in the great\nINANE, beyond the confines of the world, when we consider so much of\nthat space as is equal to, or capable to receive, a body of any\nassigned dimensions, as a cubic foot; or do suppose a point in it, at\nsuch a certain distance from any part of the universe.\n\n8. They belong to all finite beings.\n\nWHERE and WHEN are questions belonging to all finite existences, and\nare by us always reckoned from some known parts of this sensible world,\nand from some certain epochs marked out to us by the motions observable\nin it. Without some such fixed parts or periods, the order of things\nwould be lost, to our finite understandings, in the boundless\ninvariable oceans of duration and expansion, which comprehend in them\nall finite beings, and in their full extent belong only to the Deity.\nAnd therefore we are not to wonder that we comprehend them not, and do\nso often find our thoughts at a loss, when we would consider them,\neither abstractly in themselves, or as any way attributed to the first\nincomprehensible Being. But when applied to any particular finite\nbeings, the extension of any body is so much of that infinite space as\nthe bulk of the body takes up. And place is the position of any body,\nwhen considered at a certain distance from some other. As the idea of\nthe particular duration of anything is, an idea of that portion of\ninfinite duration which passes during the existence of that thing; so\nthe time when the thing existed is, the idea of that space of duration\nwhich passed between some known and fixed period of duration, and the\nbeing of that thing. One shows the distance of the extremities of the\nbulk or existence of the same thing, as that it is a foot square, or\nlasted two years; the other shows the distance of it in place, or\nexistence from other fixed points of space or duration, as that it was\nin the middle of Lincoln\u2019s Inn Fields, or the first degree of Taurus,\nand in the year of our Lord 1671, or the 1000th year of the Julian\nperiod. All which distances we measure by preconceived ideas of certain\nlengths of space and duration,\u2014as inches, feet, miles, and degrees, and\nin the other, minutes, days, and years, &c.\n\n9. All the Parts of Extension are Extension, and all the Parts of\nDuration are Duration.\n\nThere is one thing more wherein space and duration have a great\nconformity, and that is, though they are justly reckoned amongst our\nSIMPLE IDEAS, yet none of the distinct ideas we have of either is\nwithout all manner of composition: it is the very nature of both of\nthem to consist of parts: but their parts being all of the same kind,\nand without the mixture of any other idea, hinder them not from having\na place amongst simple ideas. Could the mind, as in number, come to so\nsmall a part of extension or duration as excluded divisibility, THAT\nwould be, as it were, the indivisible unit or idea; by repetition of\nwhich, it would make its more enlarged ideas of extension and duration.\nBut, since the mind is not able to frame an idea of ANY space without\nparts, instead thereof it makes use of the common measures, which, by\nfamiliar use in each country, have imprinted themselves on the memory\n(as inches and feet; or cubits and parasangs; and so seconds, minutes,\nhours, days, and years in duration);\u2014the mind makes use, I say, of such\nideas as these, as simple ones: and these are the component parts of\nlarger ideas, which the mind upon occasion makes by the addition of\nsuch known lengths which it is acquainted with. On the other side, the\nordinary smallest measure we have of either is looked on as an unit in\nnumber, when the mind by division would reduce them into less\nfractions. Though on both sides, both in addition and division, either\nof space or duration, when the idea under consideration becomes very\nbig or very small, its precise bulk becomes very obscure and confused;\nand it is the NUMBER of its repeated additions or divisions that alone\nremains clear and distinct; as will easily appear to any one who will\nlet his thoughts loose in the vast expansion of space, or divisibility\nof matter. Every part of duration is duration too; and every part of\nextension is extension, both of them capable of addition or division in\ninfinitum. But THE LEAST PORTIONS OF EITHER OF THEM, WHEREOF WE HAVE\nCLEAR AND DISTINCT IDEAS, may perhaps be fittest to be considered by\nus, as the simple ideas of that kind out of which our complex modes of\nspace, extension, and duration are made up, and into which they can\nagain be distinctly resolved. Such a small part in duration may be\ncalled a MOMENT, and is the time of one idea in our minds, in the train\nof their ordinary succession there. The other, wanting a proper name, I\nknow not whether I may be allowed to call a SENSIBLE POINT, meaning\nthereby the least particle of matter or space we can discern, which is\nordinarily about a minute, and to the sharpest eyes seldom less than\nthirty seconds of a circle, whereof the eye is the centre.\n\n10. Their Parts inseparable.\n\nExpansion and duration have this further agreement, that, though they\nare both considered by us as having parts, yet their parts are not\nseparable one from another, no not even in thought: though the parts of\nbodies from whence we take our MEASURE of the one; and the parts of\nmotion, or rather the succession of ideas in our minds, from whence we\ntake the MEASURE of the other, may be interrupted and separated; as the\none is often by rest, and the other is by sleep, which we call rest\ntoo.\n\n11. Duration is as a Line, Expansion as a Solid.\n\nBut there is this manifest difference between them,\u2014That the ideas of\nlength which we have of expansion are turned every way, and so make\nfigure, and breadth, and thickness; but duration is but as it were the\nlength of one straight line, extended in infinitum, not capable of\nmultiplicity, variation, or figure; but is one common measure of all\nexistence whatsoever, wherein all things, whilst they exist, equally\npartake. For this present moment is common to all things that are now\nin being, and equally comprehends that part of their existence, as much\nas if they were all but one single being; and we may truly say, they\nall exist in the SAME moment of time. Whether angels and spirits have\nany analogy to this, in respect to expansion, is beyond my\ncomprehension: and perhaps for us, who have understandings and\ncomprehensions suited to our own preservation, and the ends of our own\nbeing, but not to the reality and extent of all other beings, it is\nnear as hard to conceive any existence, or to have an idea of any real\nbeing, with a perfect negation of all manner of expansion, as it is to\nhave the idea of any real existence with a perfect negation of all\nmanner of duration. And therefore, what spirits have to do with space,\nor how they communicate in it, we know not. All that we know is, that\nbodies do each singly possess its proper portion of it, according to\nthe extent of solid parts; and thereby exclude all other bodies from\nhaving any share in that particular portion of space, whilst it remains\nthere.\n\n12. Duration has never two Parts together, Expansion altogether.\n\nDURATION, and TIME which is a part of it, is the idea we have of\nPERISHING distance, of which no two parts exist together, but follow\neach other in succession; an EXPANSION is the idea of LASTING distance,\nall whose parts exist together and are not capable of succession. And\ntherefore, though we cannot conceive any duration without succession,\nnor can put it together in our thoughts that any being does NOW exist\nto-morrow, or possess at once more than the present moment of duration;\nyet we can conceive the eternal duration of the Almighty far different\nfrom that of man, or any other finite being. Because man comprehends\nnot in his knowledge or power all past and future things: his thoughts\nare but of yesterday, and he knows not what to-morrow will bring forth.\nWhat is once past he can never recall; and what is yet to come he\ncannot make present. What I say of man, I say of all finite beings;\nwho, though they may far exceed man in knowledge and power, yet are no\nmore than the meanest creature, in comparison with God himself. Finite\nor any magnitude holds not any proportion to infinite. God\u2019s infinite\nduration, being accompanied with infinite knowledge and infinite power,\nhe sees all things, past and to come; and they are no more distant from\nhis knowledge, no further removed from his sight, than the present:\nthey all lie under the same view: and there is nothing which he cannot\nmake exist each moment he pleases. For the existence of all things,\ndepending upon his good pleasure, all things exist every moment that he\nthinks fit to have them exist. To conclude: expansion and duration do\nmutually embrace and comprehend each other; every part of space being\nin every part of duration, and every part of duration in every part of\nexpansion. Such a combination of two distinct ideas is, I suppose,\nscarce to be found in all that great variety we do or can conceive, and\nmay afford matter to further speculation.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVI.\nIDEA OF NUMBER.\n\n\n1. Number the simplest and most universal Idea.\n\nAmongst all the ideas we have, as there is none suggested to the mind\nby more ways, so there is none more simple, than that of UNITY, or one:\nit has no shadow of variety or composition in it: every object our\nsenses are employed about; every idea in our understandings; every\nthought of our minds, brings this idea along with it. And therefore it\nis the most intimate to our thoughts, as well as it is, in its\nagreement to all other things, the most universal idea we have. For\nnumber applies itself to men, angels, actions, thoughts; everything\nthat either doth exist or can be imagined.\n\n2. Its Modes made by Addition.\n\nBy repeating this idea in our minds, and adding the repetitions\ntogether, we come by the COMPLEX ideas of the MODES of it. Thus, by\nadding one to one, we have the complex idea of a couple; by putting\ntwelve units together we have the complex idea of a dozen; and so of a\nscore or a million, or any other number.\n\n3. Each Mode distinct.\n\nThe SIMPLE MODES of NUMBER are of all other the most distinct; every\nthe least variation, which is an unit, making each combination as\nclearly different from that which approacheth nearest to it, as the\nmost remote; two being as distinct from one, as two hundred; and the\nidea of two as distinct from the idea of three, as the magnitude of the\nwhole earth is from that of a mite. This is not so in other simple\nmodes, in which it is not so easy, nor perhaps possible for us to\ndistinguish betwixt two approaching ideas, which yet are really\ndifferent. For who will undertake to find a difference between the\nwhite of this paper and that of the next degree to it: or can form\ndistinct ideas of every the least excess in extension?\n\n4. Therefore Demonstrations in Numbers the most precise.\n\nThe clearness and distinctness of each mode of number from all others,\neven those that approach nearest, makes me apt to think that\ndemonstrations in numbers, if they are not more evident and exact than\nin extension, yet they are more general in their use, and more\ndeterminate in their application. Because the ideas of numbers are more\nprecise and distinguishable than in extension; where every equality and\nexcess are not so easy to be observed or measured; because our thoughts\ncannot in space arrive at any determined smallness beyond which it\ncannot go, as an unit; and therefore the quantity or proportion of any\nthe least excess cannot be discovered; which is clear otherwise in\nnumber, where, as has been said, 91 is as distinguishable from 90 as\nfrom 9000, though 91 be the next immediate excess to 90. But it is not\nso in extension, where, whatsoever is more than just a foot or an inch,\nis not distinguishable from the standard of a foot or an inch; and in\nlines which appear of an equal length, one may be longer than the other\nby innumerable parts: nor can any one assign an angle, which shall be\nthe next biggest to a right one.\n\n5. Names necessary to Numbers.\n\nBy the repeating, as has been said, the idea of an unit, and joining it\nto another unit, we make thereof one collective idea, marked by the\nname two. And whosoever can do this, and proceed on, still adding one\nmore to the last collective idea which he had of any number, and gave a\nname to it, may count, or have ideas, for several collections of units,\ndistinguished one from another, as far as he hath a series of names for\nfollowing numbers, and a memory to retain that series, with their\nseveral names: all numeration being but still the adding of one unit\nmore, and giving to the whole together, as comprehended in one idea, a\nnew or distinct name or sign, whereby to know it from those before and\nafter, and distinguish it from every smaller or greater multitude of\nunits. So that he that can add one to one, and so to two, and so go on\nwith his tale, taking still with him the distinct names belonging to\nevery progression; and so again, by subtracting an unit from each\ncollection, retreat and lessen them, is capable of all the ideas of\nnumbers within the compass of his language, or for which he hath names,\nthough not perhaps of more. For, the several simple modes of numbers\nbeing in our minds but so many combinations of units, which have no\nvariety, nor are capable of any other difference but more or less,\nnames or marks for each distinct combination seem more necessary than\nin any other sort of ideas. For, without such names or marks, we can\nhardly well make use of numbers in reckoning, especially where the\ncombination is made up of any great multitude of units; which put\ntogether, without a name or mark to distinguish that precise\ncollection, will hardly be kept from being a heap in confusion.\n\n6. Another reason for the necessity of names to numbers.\n\nThis I think to be the reason why some Americans I have spoken with,\n(who were otherwise of quick and rational parts enough,) could not, as\nwe do, by any means count to 1000; nor had any distinct idea of that\nnumber, though they could reckon very well to 20. Because their\nlanguage being scanty, and accommodated only to the few necessaries of\na needy, simple life, unacquainted either with trade or mathematics,\nhad no words in it to stand for 1000; so that when they were discoursed\nwith of those greater numbers, they would show the hairs of their head,\nto express a great multitude, which they could not number; which\ninability, I suppose, proceeded from their want of names. The\nTououpinambos had no names for numbers above 5; any number beyond that\nthey made out by showing their fingers, and the fingers of others who\nwere present. And I doubt not but we ourselves might distinctly number\nin words a great deal further than we usually do, would we find out but\nsome fit denominations to signify them by; whereas, in the way we take\nnow to name them, by millions of millions of millions, &c., it is hard\nto go beyond eighteen, or at most, four and twenty, decimal\nprogressions, without confusion. But to show how much distinct names\nconduce to our well reckoning, or having useful ideas of numbers, let\nus see all these following figures in one continued line, as the marks\nof one number: v. g.\n\nNonillions. 857324\n\nOctillions. 162486\n\nSeptillions. 345896\n\nSextillions. 437918\n\nQuintrillions. 423147\n\nQuartrillions. 248106\n\nTrillions. 235421\n\nBillions. 261734\n\nMillions. 368149\n\nUnits. 623137\n\nThe ordinary way of naming this number in English, will be the often\nrepeating of millions, of millions, of millions, of millions, of\nmillions, of millions, of millions, of millions, (which is the\ndenomination of the second six figures). In which way, it will be very\nhard to have any distinguishing notions of this number. But whether, by\ngiving every six figures a new and orderly denomination, these, and\nperhaps a great many more figures in progression, might not easily be\ncounted distinctly, and ideas of them both got more easily to\nourselves, and more plainly signified to others, I leave it to be\nconsidered. This I mention only to show how necessary distinct names\nare to numbering, without pretending to introduce new ones of my\ninvention.\n\n7. Why Children number not earlier.\n\nThus children, either for want of names to mark the several\nprogressions of numbers, or not having yet the faculty to collect\nscattered ideas into complex ones, and range them in a regular order,\nand so retain them in their memories, as is necessary to reckoning, do\nnot begin to number very early, nor proceed in it very far or steadily,\ntill a good while after they are well furnished with good store of\nother ideas: and one may often observe them discourse and reason pretty\nwell, and have very clear conceptions of several other things, before\nthey can tell twenty. And some, through the default of their memories,\nwho cannot retain the several combinations of numbers, with their\nnames, annexed in their distinct orders, and the dependence of so long\na train of numeral progressions, and their relation one to another, are\nnot able all their lifetime to reckon, or regularly go over any\nmoderate series of numbers. For he that will count twenty, or have any\nidea of that number, must know that nineteen went before, with the\ndistinct name or sign of every one of them, as they stand marked in\ntheir order; for wherever this fails, a gap is made, the chain breaks,\nand the progress in numbering can go no further. So that to reckon\nright, it is required, (1) That the mind distinguish carefully two\nideas, which are different one from another only by the addition or\nsubtraction of ONE unit: (2) That it retain in memory the names or\nmarks of the several combinations, from an unit to that number; and\nthat not confusedly, and at random, but in that exact order that the\nnumbers follow one another. In either of which, if it trips, the whole\nbusiness of numbering will be disturbed, and there will remain only the\nconfused idea of multitude, but the ideas necessary to distinct\nnumeration will not be attained to.\n\n8. Number measures all Measurables.\n\nThis further is observable in number, that it is that which the mind\nmakes use of in measuring all things that by us are measurable, which\nprincipally are EXPANSION and DURATION; and our idea of infinity, even\nwhen applied to those, seems to be nothing but the infinity of number.\nFor what else are our ideas of Eternity and Immensity, but the repeated\nadditions of certain ideas of imagined parts of duration and expansion,\nwith the infinity of number; in which we can come to no end of\naddition? For such an inexhaustible stock, number (of all other our\nideas) most clearly furnishes us with, as is obvious to every one. For\nlet a man collect into one sum as great a number as he pleases, this\nmultitude how great soever, lessens not one jot the power of adding to\nit, or brings him any nearer the end of the inexhaustible stock of\nnumber; where still there remains as much to be added, as if none were\ntaken out. And this ENDLESS ADDITION or ADDIBILITY (if any one like the\nword better) of numbers, so apparent to the mind, is that, I think,\nwhich gives us the clearest and most distinct idea of infinity: of\nwhich more in the following chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVII.\nOF INFINITY.\n\n\n1. Infinity, in its original Intention, attributed to Space, Duration,\nand Number.\n\nHe that would know what kind of idea it is to which we give the name of\nINFINITY, cannot do it better than by considering to what infinity is\nby the mind more immediately attributed; and then how the mind comes to\nframe it.\n\nFINITE and INFINITE seem to me to be looked upon by the mind as the\nMODES OF QUANTITY, and to be attributed primarily in their first\ndesignation only to those things which have parts, and are capable of\nincrease or diminution by the addition or subtraction of any the least\npart: and such are the ideas of space, duration, and number, which we\nhave considered in the foregoing chapters. It is true, that we cannot\nbut be assured, that the great God, of whom and from whom are all\nthings, is incomprehensibly infinite: but yet, when we apply to that\nfirst and supreme Being our idea of infinite, in our weak and narrow\nthoughts, we do it primarily in respect to his duration and ubiquity;\nand, I think, more figuratively to his power, wisdom, and goodness, and\nother attributes which are properly inexhaustible and incomprehensible,\n&c. For, when we call THEM infinite, we have no other idea of this\ninfinity but what carries with it some reflection on, and imitation of,\nthat number or extent of the acts or objects of God\u2019s power, wisdom,\nand goodness, which can never be supposed so great, or so many, which\nthese attributes will not always surmount and exceed, let us multiply\nthem in our thoughts as far as we can, with all the infinity of endless\nnumber. I do not pretend to say how these attributes are in God, who is\ninfinitely beyond the reach of our narrow capacities: they do, without\ndoubt, contain in them all possible perfection: but this, I say, is our\nway of conceiving them, and these our ideas of their infinity.\n\n2. The Idea of Finite easily got.\n\nFinite then, and infinite, being by the mind looked on as MODIFICATIONS\nof expansion and duration, the next thing to be considered, is,\u2014HOW THE\nMIND COMES BY THEM. As for the idea of finite, there is no great\ndifficulty. The obvious portions of extension that affect our senses,\ncarry with them into the mind the idea of finite: and the ordinary\nperiods of succession, whereby we measure time and duration, as hours,\ndays, and years, are bounded lengths. The difficulty is, how we come by\nthose BOUNDLESS IDEAS of eternity and immensity; since the objects we\nconverse with come so much short of any approach or proportion to that\nlargeness.\n\n3. How we come by the Idea of Infinity.\n\nEvery one that has any idea of any stated lengths of space, as a foot,\nfinds that he can repeat that idea; and joining it to the former, make\nthe idea of two feet; and by the addition of a third, three feet; and\nso on, without ever coming to an end of his additions, whether of the\nsame idea of a foot, or, if he pleases, of doubling it, or any other\nidea he has of any length, as a mile, or diameter of the earth, or of\nthe orbis magnus: for whichever of these he takes, and how often soever\nhe doubles, or any otherwise multiplies it, he finds, that, after he\nhas continued his doubling in his thoughts, and enlarged his idea as\nmuch as he pleases, he has no more reason to stop, nor is one jot\nnearer the end of such addition, than he was at first setting out: the\npower of enlarging his idea of space by further additions remaining\nstill the same, he hence takes the idea of infinite space.\n\n4. Our Idea of Space boundless.\n\nThis, I think, is the way whereby the mind gets the IDEA of infinite\nspace. It is a quite different consideration, to examine whether the\nmind has the idea of such a boundless space ACTUALLY EXISTING; since\nour ideas are not always proofs of the existence of things: but yet,\nsince this comes here in our way, I suppose I may say, that we are APT\nTO THINK that space in itself is actually boundless, to which\nimagination the idea of space or expansion of itself naturally leads\nus. For, it being considered by us, either as the extension of body, or\nas existing by itself, without any solid matter taking it up, (for of\nsuch a void space we have not only the idea, but I have proved, as I\nthink, from the motion of body, its necessary existence,) it is\nimpossible the mind should be ever able to find or suppose any end of\nit, or be stopped anywhere in its progress in this space, how far\nsoever it extends its thoughts. Any bounds made with body, even\nadamantine walls, are so far from putting a stop to the mind in its\nfurther progress in space and extension that it rather facilitates and\nenlarges it. For so far as that body reaches, so far no one can doubt\nof extension; and when we are come to the utmost extremity of body,\nwhat is there that can there put a stop, and satisfy the mind that it\nis at the end of space, when it perceives that it is not; nay, when it\nis satisfied that body itself can move into it? For, if it be necessary\nfor the motion of body, that there should be an empty space, though\never so little, here amongst bodies; and if it be possible for body to\nmove in or through that empty space;\u2014nay, it is impossible for any\nparticle of matter to move but into an empty space; the same\npossibility of a body\u2019s moving into a void space, beyond the utmost\nbounds of body, as well as into a void space interspersed amongst\nbodies, will always remain clear and evident: the idea of empty pure\nspace, whether within or beyond the confines of all bodies, being\nexactly the same, differing not in nature, though in bulk; and there\nbeing nothing to hinder body from moving into it. So that wherever the\nmind places itself by any thought, either amongst, or remote from all\nbodies, it can, in this uniform idea of space, nowhere find any bounds,\nany end; and so must necessarily conclude it, by the very nature and\nidea of each part of it, to be actually infinite.\n\n5. And so of Duration.\n\nAs, by the power we find in ourselves of repeating, as often as we\nwill, any idea of space, we get the idea of IMMENSITY; so, by being\nable to repeat the idea of any length of duration we have in our minds,\nwith all the endless addition of number, we come by the idea of\nETERNITY. For we find in ourselves, we can no more come to an end of\nsuch repeated ideas than we can come to the end of number; which every\none perceives he cannot. But here again it is another question, quite\ndifferent from our having an IDEA of eternity, to know whether there\nwere ANY REAL BEING, whose duration has been eternal. And as to this, I\nsay, he that considers something now existing, must necessarily come to\nSomething eternal. But having spoke of this in another place, I shall\nsay here no more of it, but proceed on to some other considerations of\nour idea of infinity.\n\n6. Why other Ideas are not capable of Infinity.\n\nIf it be so, that our idea of infinity be got from the power we observe\nin ourselves of repeating, without end, our own ideas, it may be\ndemanded,\u2014Why we do not attribute infinity to other ideas, as well as\nthose of space and duration; since they may be as easily, and as often,\nrepeated in our minds as the other: and yet nobody ever thinks of\ninfinite sweetness or infinite whiteness, though he can repeat the idea\nof sweet or white, as frequently as those of a yard or a day? To which\nI answer,\u2014All the ideas that are considered as having parts, and are\ncapable of increase by the addition of an equal or less parts, afford\nus, by their repetition, the idea of infinity; because, with this\nendless repetition, there is continued an enlargement of which there\nCAN be no end. But for other ideas it is not so. For to the largest\nidea of extension or duration that I at present have, the addition of\nany the least part makes an increase; but to the perfectest idea I have\nof the whitest whiteness, if I add another of a less equal whiteness,\n(and of a whiter than I have, I cannot add the idea,) it makes no\nincrease, and enlarges not my idea at all; and therefore the different\nideas of whiteness, &c. are called degrees. For those ideas that\nconsist of part are capable of being augmented by every addition of the\nleast part; but if you take the idea of white, which one parcel of snow\nyielded yesterday to our sight, and another idea of white from another\nparcel of snow you see to-day, and put them together in your mind, they\nembody, as it were, all run into one, and the idea of whiteness is not\nat all increased and if we add a less degree of whiteness to a greater,\nwe are so far from increasing, that we diminish it. Those ideas that\nconsist not of parts cannot be augmented to what proportion men please,\nor be stretched beyond what they have received by their senses; but\nspace, duration, and number, being capable of increase by repetition,\nleave in the mind an idea of endless room for more; nor can we conceive\nanywhere a stop to a further addition or progression: and so those\nideas ALONE lead our minds towards the thought of infinity.\n\n7. Difference between infinity of Space, and Space infinite.\n\nThough our idea of infinity arise from the contemplation of quantity,\nand the endless increase the mind is able to make in quantity, by the\nrepeated additions of what portions thereof it pleases; yet I guess we\ncause great confusion in our thoughts, when we join infinity to any\nsupposed idea of quantity the mind can be thought to have, and so\ndiscourse or reason about an infinite quantity, as an infinite space,\nor an infinite duration. For, as our idea of infinity being, as I\nthink, AN ENDLESS GROWING IDEA, but the idea of any quantity the mind\nhas, being at that time TERMINATED in that idea, (for be it as great as\nit will, it can be no greater than it is,)\u2014to join infinity to it, is\nto adjust a standing measure to a growing bulk; and therefore I think\nit is not an insignificant subtilty, if I say, that we are carefully to\ndistinguish between the idea of the infinity of space, and the idea of\na space infinite. The first is nothing but a supposed endless\nprogression of the mind, over what repeated ideas of space it pleases;\nbut to have actually in the mind the idea of a space infinite, is to\nsuppose the mind already passed over, and actually to have a view of\nALL those repeated ideas of space which an ENDLESS repetition can never\ntotally represent to it; which carries in it a plain contradiction.\n\n8. We have no Idea of infinite Space.\n\nThis, perhaps, will be a little plainer, if we consider it in numbers.\nThe infinity of numbers, to the end of whose addition every one\nperceives there is no approach, easily appears to any one that reflects\non it. But, how clear soever this idea of the infinity of number be,\nthere is nothing yet more evident than the absurdity of the actual idea\nof an infinite number. Whatsoever POSITIVE ideas we have in our minds\nof any space, duration, or number, let them be ever so great, they are\nstill finite; but when we suppose an inexhaustible remainder, from\nwhich we remove all bounds, and wherein we allow the mind an endless\nprogression of thought, without ever completing the idea, there we have\nour idea of infinity: which, though it seems to be pretty clear when we\nconsider nothing else in it but the negation of an end, yet, when we\nwould frame in our minds the idea of an infinite space or duration,\nthat idea is very obscure and confused, because it is made up of two\nparts, very different, if not inconsistent. For, let a man frame in his\nmind an idea of any space or number, as great as he will; it is plain\nthe mind RESTS AND TERMINATES in that idea, which is contrary to the\nidea of infinity, which CONSISTS IN A SUPPOSED ENDLESS PROGRESSION. And\ntherefore I think it is that we are so easily confounded, when we come\nto argue and reason about infinite space or duration, &c. Because the\nparts of such an idea not being perceived to be, as they are,\ninconsistent, the one side or other always perplexes, whatever\nconsequences we draw from the other; as an idea of motion not passing\non would perplex any one who should argue from such an idea, which is\nnot better than an idea of motion at rest. And such another seems to me\nto be the idea of a space, or (which is the same thing) a number\ninfinite, i. e. of a space or number which the mind actually has, and\nso views and terminates in; and of a space or number, which, in a\nconstant and endless enlarging and progression, it can in thought never\nattain to. For, how large soever an idea of space I have in my mind, it\nis no larger than it is that instant that I have it, though I be\ncapable the next instant to double it, and so on in infinitum; for that\nalone is infinite which has no bounds; and that the idea of infinity,\nin which our thoughts can find none.\n\n9. Number affords us the clearest Idea of Infinity.\n\nBut of all other ideas, it is number, as I have said, which I think\nfurnishes us with the clearest and most distinct idea of infinity we\nare capable of. For, even in space and duration, when the mind pursues\nthe idea of infinity, it there makes use of the ideas and repetitions\nof numbers, as of millions and millions of miles, or years, which are\nso many distinct ideas,\u2014kept best by number from running into a\nconfused heap, wherein the mind loses itself; and when it has added\ntogether as many millions, &c., as it pleases, of known lengths of\nspace or duration, the clearest idea it can get of infinity, is the\nconfused incomprehensible remainder of endless addible numbers, which\naffords no prospect of stop or boundary.\n\n10. Our different Conceptions of the Infinity of Number contrasted with\nthose of Duration and Expansion.\n\nIt will, perhaps, give us a little further light into the idea we have\nof infinity, and discover to us, that it is NOTHING BUT THE INFINITY OF\nNUMBER APPLIED TO DETERMINATE PARTS, OF WHICH WE HAVE IN OUR MINDS THE\nDISTINCT IDEAS, if we consider that number is not generally thought by\nus infinite, whereas duration and extension are apt to be so; which\narises from hence,\u2014that in number we are at one end, as it were: for\nthere being in number nothing LESS than an unit, we there stop, and are\nat an end; but in addition, or increase of number, we can set no\nbounds: and so it is like a line, whereof one end terminating with us,\nthe other is extended still forwards, beyond all that we can conceive.\nBut in space and duration it is otherwise. For in duration we consider\nit as if this line of number were extended BOTH ways\u2014to an\nunconceivable, undeterminate, and infinite length; which is evident to\nanyone that will but reflect on what consideration he hath of Eternity;\nwhich, I suppose, will find to be nothing else but the turning this\ninfinity of number both ways, a parte ante and a parte post, as they\nspeak. For, when we would consider eternity, a parte ante, what do we\nbut, beginning from ourselves and the present time we are in, repeat in\nour minds ideas of years, or ages, or any other assignable portion of\nduration past, with a prospect of proceeding in such addition with all\nthe infinity of number: and when we would consider eternity, a parte\npost, we just after the same rate begin from ourselves, and reckon by\nmultiplied periods yet to come, still extending that line of number as\nbefore. And these two being put together, are that infinite duration we\ncall ETERNITY which, as we turn our view either way, forwards or\nbackward appears infinite, because we still turn that way the infinite\nend of number, i.e. the power still of adding more.\n\n11. How we conceive the Infinity of Space.\n\nThe same happens also in space, wherein, conceiving ourselves to be, as\nit were, in the centre, we do on all sides pursue those indeterminable\nlines of number; and reckoning any way from ourselves, a yard, mile,\ndiameter of the earth or orbis magnus,\u2014by the infinity of number, we\nadd others to them, as often as we will. And having no more reason to\nset bounds to those repeated ideas than we have to set bounds to\nnumber, we have that indeterminable idea of immensity.\n\n12. Infinite Divisibility.\n\nAnd since in any bulk of matter our thoughts can never arrive at the\nutmost divisibility, therefore there is an apparent infinity to us also\nin that, which has the infinity also of number; but with this\ndifference,\u2014that, in the former considerations of the infinity of space\nand duration, we only use addition of numbers; whereas this is like the\ndivision of an unit into its fractions, wherein the mind also can\nproceed in infinitum, as well as in the former additions; it being\nindeed but the addition still of new numbers: though in the addition of\nthe one, we can have no more the POSITIVE idea of a space infinitely\ngreat, than, in the division of the other, we can have the positive\nidea of a body infinitely little;\u2014our idea of infinity being, as I may\nsay, a growing or fugitive idea, still in a boundless progression, that\ncan stop nowhere.\n\n13. No positive Idea of Infinity.\n\nThough it be hard, I think, to find anyone so absurd as to say he has\nthe POSITIVE idea of an actual infinite number;\u2014the infinity whereof\nlies only in a power still of adding any combination of units to any\nformer number, and that as long and as much as one will; the like also\nbeing in the infinity of space and duration, which power leaves always\nto the mind room for endless additions;\u2014yet there be those who imagine\nthey have positive ideas of infinite duration and space. It would, I\nthink, be enough to destroy any such positive idea of infinite, to ask\nhim that has it,\u2014whether he could add to it or no; which would easily\nshow the mistake of such a positive idea. We can, I think, have no\npositive idea of any space or duration which is not made up of, and\ncommensurate to, repeated numbers of feet or yards, or days and years;\nwhich are the common measures, whereof we have the ideas in our minds,\nand whereby we judge of the greatness of this sort of quantities. And\ntherefore, since an infinite idea of space or duration must needs be\nmade up of infinite parts, it can have no other infinity than that of\nnumber CAPABLE still of further addition; but not an actual positive\nidea of a number infinite. For, I think it is evident, that the\naddition of finite things together (as are all lengths whereof we have\nthe positive ideas) can never otherwise produce the idea of infinite\nthan as number does; which consisting of additions of finite units one\nto another, suggests the idea of infinite, only by a power we find we\nhave of still increasing the sum, and adding more of the same kind;\nwithout coming one jot nearer the end of such progression.\n\n14. How we cannot have a positive idea of infinity in Quantity.\n\nThey who would prove their idea of infinite to be positive, seem to me\nto do it by a pleasant argument, taken from the negation of an end;\nwhich being negative, the negation on it is positive. He that considers\nthat the end is, in body, but the extremity or superficies of that\nbody, will not perhaps be forward to grant that the end is a bare\nnegative: and he that perceives the end of his pen is black or white,\nwill be apt to think that the end is something more than a pure\nnegation. Nor is it, when applied to duration, the bare negation of\nexistence, but more properly the last moment of it. But as they will\nhave the end to be nothing but the bare negation of existence, I am\nsure they cannot deny but the beginning of the first instant of being,\nand is not by any body conceived to be a bare negation; and therefore,\nby their own argument, the idea of eternal, A PARTE ANTE, or of a\nduration without a beginning, is but a negative idea.\n\n15. What is positive, what negative, in our Idea of infinite.\n\nThe idea of infinite has, I confess, something of positive in all those\nthings we apply to it. When we would think of infinite space or\nduration, we at first step usually make some very large idea, as\nperhaps of millions of ages, or miles, which possibly we double and\nmultiply several times. All that we thus amass together in our thoughts\nis positive, and the assemblage of a great number of positive ideas of\nspace or duration. But what still remains beyond this we have no more a\npositive distinct notion of than a mariner has of the depth of the sea;\nwhere, having let down a large portion of his sounding-line, he reaches\nno bottom. Whereby he knows the depth to be so many fathoms, and more;\nbut how much the more is, he hath no distinct notion at all: and could\nhe always supply new line, and find the plummet always sink, without\never stopping, he would be something in the posture of the mind\nreaching after a complete and positive idea of infinity. In which case,\nlet this line be ten, or ten thousand fathoms long, it equally\ndiscovers what is beyond it, and gives only this confused and\ncomparative idea, that this is not all, but one may yet go farther. So\nmuch as the mind comprehends of any space, it has a positive idea of:\nbut in endeavouring to make it infinite,\u2014it being always enlarging,\nalways advancing,\u2014the idea is still imperfect and incomplete. So much\nspace as the mind takes a view of in its contemplation of greatness, is\na clear picture, and positive in the understanding: but infinite is\nstill greater. 1. Then the idea of SO MUCH is positive and clear. 2.\nThe idea of GREATER is also clear; but it is but a comparative idea,\nthe idea of SO MUCH GREATER AS CANNOT BE COMPREHENDED. 3. And this is\nplainly negative: not positive. For he has no positive clear idea of\nthe largeness of any extension, (which is that sought for in the idea\nof infinite), that has not a comprehensive idea of the dimensions of\nit: and such, nobody, I think, pretends to in what is infinite. For to\nsay a man has a positive clear idea of any quantity, without knowing\nhow great it is, is as reasonable as to say, he has the positive clear\nidea of the number of the sands on the sea-shore, who knows not how\nmany there be, but only that they are more than twenty. For just such a\nperfect and positive idea has he of an infinite space or duration, who\nsays it is LARGER THAN the extent or duration of ten, one hundred, one\nthousand, or any other number of miles, or years, whereof he has or can\nhave a positive idea; which is all the idea, I think, we have of\ninfinite. So that what lies beyond our positive idea TOWARDS infinity,\nlies in obscurity, and has the indeterminate confusion of a negative\nidea, wherein I know I neither do nor can comprehend all I would, it\nbeing too large for a finite and narrow capacity. And that cannot but\nbe very far from a positive complete idea, wherein the greatest part of\nwhat I would comprehend is left out, under the undeterminate intimation\nof being still greater. For to say, that, having in any quantity\nmeasured so much, or gone so far, you are not yet at the end, is only\nto say that that quantity is greater. So that the negation of an end in\nany quantity is, in other words, only to say that it is bigger; and a\ntotal negation of an end is but carrying this bigger still with you, in\nall the progressions your thoughts shall make in quantity; and adding\nthis IDEA OF STILL GREATER to ALL the ideas you have, or can be\nsupposed to have, of quantity. Now, whether such an idea as that be\npositive, I leave any one to consider.\n\n16. We have no positive Idea of an infinite Duration.\n\nI ask those who say they have a positive idea of eternity, whether\ntheir idea of duration includes in it succession, or not? If it does\nnot, they ought to show the difference of their notion of duration,\nwhen applied to an eternal Being, and to a finite; since, perhaps,\nthere may be others as well as I, who will own to them their weakness\nof understanding in this point, and acknowledge that the notion they\nhave of duration forces them to conceive, that whatever has duration,\nis of a longer continuance to-day than it was yesterday. If, to avoid\nsuccession in external existence, they return to the punctum stans of\nthe schools, I suppose they will thereby very little mend the matter,\nor help us to a more clear and positive idea of infinite duration;\nthere being nothing more inconceivable to me than duration without\nsuccession. Besides, that punctum stans, if it signify anything, being\nnot quantum, finite or infinite cannot belong to it. But, if our weak\napprehensions cannot separate succession from any duration whatsoever,\nour idea of eternity can be nothing but of INFINITE SUCCESSION OF\nMOMENTS OF DURATION WHEREIN ANYTHING DOES EXIST; and whether any one\nhas, or can have, a positive idea of an actual infinite number, I leave\nhim to consider, till his infinite number be so great that he himself\ncan add no more to it; and as long as he can increase it, I doubt he\nhimself will think the idea he hath of it a little too scanty for\npositive infinity.\n\n17. No complete Idea of Eternal Being.\n\nI think it unavoidable for every considering, rational creature, that\nwill but examine his own or any other existence, to have the notion of\nan eternal, wise Being, who had no beginning: and such an idea of\ninfinite duration I am sure I have. But this negation of a beginning,\nbeing but the negation of a positive thing, scarce gives me a positive\nidea of infinity; which, whenever I endeavour to extend my thoughts to,\nI confess myself at a loss, and I find I cannot attain any clear\ncomprehension of it.\n\n18. No positive Idea of infinite Space.\n\nHe that thinks he has a positive idea of infinite space, will, when he\nconsiders it, find that he can no more have a positive idea of the\ngreatest, than he has of the least space. For in this latter, which\nseems the easier of the two, and more within our comprehension, we are\ncapable only of a comparative idea of smallness, which will always be\nless than any one whereof we have the positive idea. All our POSITIVE\nideas of any quantity, whether great or little, have always bounds,\nthough our COMPARATIVE idea, whereby we can always add to the one, and\ntake from the other, hath no bounds. For that which remains, either\ngreat or little, not being comprehended in that positive idea which we\nhave, lies in obscurity; and we have no other idea of it, but of the\npower of enlarging the one and diminishing the other, WITHOUT CEASING.\nA pestle and mortar will as soon bring any particle of matter to\nindivisibility, as the acutest thought of a mathematician; and a\nsurveyor may as soon with his chain measure out infinite space, as a\nphilosopher by the quickest flight of mind reach it or by thinking\ncomprehend it; which is to have a positive idea of it. He that thinks\non a cube of an inch diameter, has a clear and positive idea of it in\nhis mind, and so can frame one of 1/2, 1/4, 1/8, and so on, till he has\nthe idea in his thoughts of something very little; but yet reaches not\nthe idea of that incomprehensible littleness which division can\nproduce. What remains of smallness is as far from his thoughts as when\nhe first began; and therefore he never comes at all to have a clear and\npositive idea of that smallness which is consequent to infinite\ndivisibility.\n\n19. What is positive, what negative, in our Idea of Infinite.\n\nEvery one that looks towards infinity does, as I have said, at first\nglance make some very large idea of that which he applies it to, let it\nbe space or duration; and possibly he wearies his thoughts, by\nmultiplying in his mind that first large idea: but yet by that he comes\nno nearer to the having a positive clear idea of what remains to make\nup a positive infinite, than the country fellow had of the water which\nwas yet to come, and pass the channel of the river where he stood:\n\n\u2018Rusticus expectat dum defluat amnis, at ille\nLabitur, et labetur in omne volubilis \u00e6vum.\u2019\n\n\n20. Some think they have a positive Idea of Eternity, and not of\ninfinite Space.\n\nThere are some I have met that put so much difference between infinite\nduration and infinite space, that they persuade themselves that they\nhave a positive idea of eternity, but that they have not, nor can have\nany idea of infinite space. The reason of which mistake I suppose to be\nthis\u2014that finding, by a due contemplation of causes and effects, that\nit is necessary to admit some Eternal Being, and so to consider the\nreal existence of that Being as taken up and commensurate to their idea\nof eternity; but, on the other side, not finding it necessary, but, on\nthe contrary, apparently absurd, that body should be infinite, they\nforwardly conclude that they can have no idea of infinite space,\nbecause they can have no idea of infinite matter. Which consequence, I\nconceive, is very ill collected, because the existence of matter is no\nways necessary to the existence of space, no more than the existence of\nmotion, or the sun, is necessary to duration, though duration uses to\nbe measured by it. And I doubt not but that a man may have the idea of\nten thousand miles square, without any body so big, as well as the idea\nof ten thousand years, without any body so old. It seems as easy to me\nto have the idea of space empty of body, as to think of the capacity of\na bushel without corn, or the hollow of a nut-shell without a kernel in\nit: it being no more necessary that there should be existing a solid\nbody, infinitely extended, because we have an idea of the infinity of\nspace, than it is necessary that the world should be eternal, because\nwe have an idea of infinite duration. And why should we think our idea\nof infinite space requires the real existence of matter to support it,\nwhen we find that we have as clear an idea of an infinite duration to\ncome, as we have of infinite duration past? Though I suppose nobody\nthinks it conceivable that anything does or has existed in that future\nduration. Nor is it possible to join our idea of future duration with\npresent or past existence, any more than it is possible to make the\nideas of yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow to be the same; or bring ages\npast and future together, and make them contemporary. But if these men\nare of the mind, that they have clearer ideas of infinite duration than\nof infinite space, because it is past doubt that God has existed from\nall eternity, but there is no real matter co-extended with infinite\nspace; yet those philosophers who are of opinion that infinite space is\npossessed by God\u2019s infinite omnipresence, as well as infinite duration\nby his eternal existence, must be allowed to have as clear an idea of\ninfinite space as of infinite duration; though neither of them, I\nthink, has any positive idea of infinity in either case. For whatsoever\npositive ideas a man has in his mind of any quantity, he can repeat it,\nand add it to the former, as easy as he can add together the ideas of\ntwo days, or two paces, which are positive ideas of lengths he has in\nhis mind, and so on as long as he pleases: whereby, if a man had a\npositive idea of infinite, either duration or space, he could add two\ninfinites together; nay, make one infinite infinitely bigger than\nanother\u2014absurdities too gross to be confuted.\n\n21. Supposed positive Ideas of Infinity, cause of Mistakes.\n\nBut yet if after all this, there be men who persuade themselves that\nthey have clear positive comprehensive ideas of infinity, it is fit\nthey enjoy their privilege: and I should be very glad (with some others\nthat I know, who acknowledge they have none such) to be better informed\nby their communication. For I have been hitherto apt to think that the\ngreat and inextricable difficulties which perpetually involve all\ndiscourses concerning infinity,\u2014whether of space, duration, or\ndivisibility, have been the certain marks of a defect in our ideas of\ninfinity, and the disproportion the nature thereof has to the\ncomprehension of our narrow capacities. For, whilst men talk and\ndispute of infinite space or duration, as if they had as complete and\npositive ideas of them as they have of the names they use for them, or\nas they have of a yard, or an hour, or any other determinate quantity;\nit is no wonder if the incomprehensible nature of the thing they\ndiscourse of, or reason about, leads them into perplexities and\ncontradictions, and their minds be overlaid by an object too large and\nmighty to be surveyed and managed by them.\n\n22. All these are modes of Ideas got from Sensation and Reflection.\n\nIf I have dwelt pretty long on the consideration of duration, space,\nand number, and what arises from the contemplation of them,\u2014Infinity,\nit is possibly no more than the matter requires; there being few simple\nideas whose MODES give more exercise to the thoughts of men than those\ndo. I pretend not to treat of them in their full latitude. It suffices\nto my design to show how the mind receives them, such as they are, from\nsensation and reflection; and how even the idea we have of infinity,\nhow remote soever it may seem to be from any object of sense, or\noperation of our mind, has, nevertheless, as all our other ideas, its\noriginal there. Some mathematicians perhaps, of advanced speculations,\nmay have other ways to introduce into their minds ideas of infinity.\nBut this hinders not but that they themselves, as well as all other\nmen, got the first ideas which they had of infinity from sensation and\nreflection, in the method we have here set down.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XVIII.\nOTHER SIMPLE MODES.\n\n\n1. Other simple Modes of simple Ideas of sensation.\n\nThough I have, in the foregoing chapters, shown how from simple ideas\ntaken in by sensation, the mind comes to extend itself even to\ninfinity; which, however it may of all others seem most remote from any\nsensible perception, yet at last hath nothing in it but what is made\nout of simple ideas: received into the mind by the senses, and\nafterwards there put together, by the faculty the mind has to repeat\nits own ideas; \u2014Though, I say, these might be instances enough of\nsimple modes of the simple ideas of sensation, and suffice to show how\nthe mind comes by them, yet I shall, for method\u2019s sake, though briefly,\ngive an account of some few more, and then proceed to more complex\nideas.\n\n2. Simple modes of motion.\n\nTo slide, roll, tumble, walk, creep, run, dance, leap, skip, and\nabundance of others that might be named, are words which are no sooner\nheard but every one who understands English has presently in his mind\ndistinct ideas, which are all but the different modifications of\nmotion. Modes of motion answer those of extension; swift and slow are\ntwo different ideas of motion, the measures whereof are made of the\ndistances of time and space put together; so they are complex ideas,\ncomprehending time and space with motion.\n\n3. Modes of Sounds.\n\nThe like variety have we in sounds. Every articulate word is a\ndifferent modification of sound; by which we see that, from the sense\nof hearing, by such modifications, the mind may be furnished with\ndistinct ideas, to almost an infinite number. Sounds also, besides the\ndistinct cries of birds and beasts, are modified by diversity of notes\nof different length put together, which make that complex idea called a\ntune, which a musician may have in his mind when he hears or makes no\nsound at all, by reflecting on the ideas of those sounds, so put\ntogether silently in his own fancy.\n\n4. Modes of Colours.\n\nThose of colours are also very various: some we take notice of as the\ndifferent degrees, or as they were termed shades, of the same colour.\nBut since we very seldom make assemblages of colours, either for use or\ndelight, but figure is taken in also, and has its part in it, as in\npainting, weaving, needleworks, &c.;\u2014those which are taken notice of do\nmost commonly belong to MIXED MODES, as being made up of ideas of\ndivers kinds, viz. figure and colour, such as beauty, rainbow, &c.\n\n5. Modes of Tastes.\n\nAll compounded tastes and smells are also modes, made up of the simple\nideas of those senses. But they, being such as generally we have no\nnames for, are less taken notice of, and cannot be set down in writing;\nand therefore must be left without enumeration to the thoughts and\nexperience of my reader.\n\n6. Some simple Modes have no Names.\n\nIn general it may be observed, that those simple modes which are\nconsidered but as different DEGREES of the same simple idea, though\nthey are in themselves many of them very distinct ideas, yet have\nordinarily no distinct names, nor are much taken notice of, as distinct\nideas, where the difference is but very small between them. Whether men\nhave neglected these modes, and given no names to them, as wanting\nmeasures nicely to distinguish them; or because, when they were so\ndistinguished, that knowledge would not be of general or necessary use,\nI leave it to the thoughts of others. It is sufficient to my purpose to\nshow, that all our simple ideas come to our minds only by sensation and\nreflection; and that when the mood has them, it can variously repeat\nand compound them, and so make new complex ideas. But, though white,\nred, or sweet, &c. have not been modified, or made into complex ideas,\nby several combinations, so as to be named, and thereby ranked into\nspecies; yet some others of the simple ideas, viz. those of unity,\nduration, and motion, &c., above instanced in, as also power and\nthinking, have been thus modified to a great variety of complex ideas,\nwith names belonging to them.\n\n7. Why some Modes have, and others have not, Names.\n\nThe reason whereof, I suppose, has been this,\u2014That the great\nconcernment of men being with men one amongst another, the knowledge of\nmen, and their actions, and the signifying of them to one another, was\nmost necessary; and therefore they made ideas of ACTIONS very nicely\nmodified, and gave those complex ideas names, that they might the more\neasily record and discourse of those things they were daily conversant\nin, without long ambages and circumlocutions; and that the things they\nwere continually to give and receive information about might be the\neasier and quicker understood. That this is so, and that men in framing\ndifferent complex ideas, and giving them names, have been much governed\nby the end of speech in general, (which is a very short and expedite\nway of conveying their thoughts one to another), is evident in the\nnames which in several arts have been found out, and applied to several\ncomplex ideas of modified actions, belonging to their several trades,\nfor dispatch sake, in their direction or discourses about them. Which\nideas are not generally framed in the minds of men not conversant about\nthese operations. And thence the words that stand for them, by the\ngreatest part of men of the same language, are not understood: v. g.\nCOLTSHIRE, DRILLING, FILTRATION, COHOBATION, are words standing for\ncertain complex ideas, which being seldom in the minds of any but those\nfew whose particular employments do at every turn suggest them to their\nthoughts, those names of them are not generally understood but by\nsmiths and chymists; who, having framed the complex ideas which these\nwords stand for, and having given names to them, or received them from\nothers, upon hearing of these names in communication, readily conceive\nthose ideas in their minds;-as by COHOBATION all the simple ideas of\ndistilling, and the pouring the liquor distilled from anything back\nupon the remaining matter, and distilling it again. Thus we see that\nthere are great varieties of simple ideas, as of tastes and smells,\nwhich have no names; and of modes many more; which either not having\nbeen generally enough observed, or else not being of any great use to\nbe taken notice of in the affairs and converse of men, they have not\nhad names given to them, and so pass not for species. This we shall\nhave occasion hereafter to consider more at large, when we come to\nspeak of WORDS.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XIX.\nOF THE MODES OF THINKING.\n\n\n1. Sensation, Remembrance, Contemplation, &c., modes of thinking.\n\nWhen the mind turns its view inwards upon itself, and contemplates its\nown actions, THINKING is the first that occurs. In it the mind observes\na great variety of modifications, and from thence receives distinct\nideas. Thus the perception or thought which actually accompanies, and\nis annexed to, any impression on the body, made by an external object,\nbeing distinct from all other modifications of thinking, furnishes the\nmind with a distinct idea, which we call SENSATION;\u2014which is, as it\nwere, the actual entrance of any idea into the understanding by the\nsenses. The same idea, when it again recurs without the operation of\nthe like object on the external sensory, is REMEMBRANCE: if it be\nsought after by the mind, and with pain and endeavour found, and\nbrought again in view, it is RECOLLECTION: if it be held there long\nunder attentive consideration, it is CONTEMPLATION: when ideas float in\nour mind without any reflection or regard of the understanding, it is\nthat which the French call REVERIE; our language has scarce a name for\nit: when the ideas that offer themselves (for, as I have observed in\nanother place, whilst we are awake, there will always be a train of\nideas succeeding one another in our minds) are taken notice of, and, as\nit were, registered in the memory, it is ATTENTION: when the mind with\ngreat earnestness, and of choice, fixes its view on any idea, considers\nit on all sides, and will not be called off by the ordinary\nsolicitation of other ideas, it is that we call INTENTION or STUDY:\nsleep, without dreaming, is rest from all these: and DREAMING itself is\nthe having of ideas (whilst the outward senses are stopped, so that\nthey receive not outward objects with their usual quickness) in the\nmind, not suggested by any external objects, or known occasion; nor\nunder any choice or conduct of the understanding at all: and whether\nthat which we call ECSTASY be not dreaming with the eyes open, I leave\nto be examined.\n\n2. Other modes of thinking.\n\nThese are some few instances of those various modes of thinking, which\nthe mind may observe in itself, and so have as distinct ideas of as it\nhath of white and red, a square or a circle. I do not pretend to\nenumerate them all, nor to treat at large of this set of ideas, which\nare got from reflection: that would be to make a volume. It suffices to\nmy present purpose to have shown here, by some few examples, of what\nsort these ideas are, and how the mind comes by them; especially since\nI shall have occasion hereafter to treat more at large of REASONING,\nJUDGING, VOLITION, and KNOWLEDGE, which are some of the most\nconsiderable operations of the mind, and modes of thinking.\n\n3. The various degrees of Attention in thinking.\n\nBut perhaps it may not be an unpardonable digression, nor wholly\nimpertinent to our present design, if we reflect here upon the\ndifferent state of the mind in thinking, which those instances of\nattention, reverie, and dreaming, &c., before mentioned, naturally\nenough suggest. That there are ideas, some or other, always present in\nthe mind of a waking man, every one\u2019s experience convinces him; though\nthe mind employs itself about them with several degrees of attention.\nSometimes the mind fixes itself with so much earnestness on the\ncontemplation of some objects, that it turns their ideas on all sides;\nmarks their relations and circumstances; and views every part so nicely\nand with such intention, that it shuts out all other thoughts, and\ntakes no notice of the ordinary impressions made then on the senses,\nwhich at another season would produce very sensible perceptions: at\nother times it barely observes the train of ideas that succeed in the\nunderstanding, without directing and pursuing any of them: and at other\ntimes it lets them pass almost quite unregarded, as faint shadows that\nmake no impression.\n\n4. Hence it is probable that Thinking is the Action, not the Essence of\nthe Soul.\n\nThis difference of intention, and remission of the mind in thinking,\nwith a great variety of degrees between earnest study and very near\nminding nothing at all, every one, I think, has experimented in\nhimself. Trace it a little further, and you find the mind in sleep\nretired as it were from the senses, and out of the reach of those\nmotions made on the organs of sense, which at other times produce very\nvivid and sensible ideas. I need not, for this, instance in those who\nsleep out whole stormy nights, without hearing the thunder, or seeing\nthe lightning, or feeling the shaking of the house, which are sensible\nenough to those who are waking. But in this retirement of the mind from\nthe senses, it often retains a yet more loose and incoherent manner of\nthinking, which we call dreaming. And, last of all, sound sleep closes\nthe scene quite, and puts an end to all appearances. This, I think\nalmost every one has experience of in himself, and his own observation\nwithout difficulty leads him thus far. That which I would further\nconclude from hence is, that since the mind can sensibly put on, at\nseveral times, several degrees of thinking, and be sometimes, even in a\nwaking man, so remiss, as to have thoughts dim and obscure to that\ndegree that they are very little removed from none at all; and at last,\nin the dark retirements of sound sleep, loses the sight perfectly of\nall ideas whatsoever: since, I say, this is evidently so in matter of\nfact and constant experience, I ask whether it be not probable, that\nthinking is the action and not the essence of the soul? Since the\noperations of agents will easily admit of intention and remission: but\nthe essences of things are not conceived capable of any such variation.\nBut this by the by.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XX.\nOF MODES OF PLEASURE AND PAIN.\n\n\n1. Pleasure and Pain, simple Ideas.\n\nAMONGST the simple ideas which we receive both from sensation and\nreflection, PAIN and PLEASURE are two very considerable ones. For as in\nthe body there is sensation barely in itself, or accompanied with pain\nor pleasure, so the thought or perception of the mind is simply so, or\nelse accompanied also with pleasure or pain, delight or trouble, call\nit how you please. These, like other simple ideas, cannot be described,\nnor their names defined; the way of knowing them is, as of the simple\nideas of the senses, only by experience. For, to define them by the\npresence of good or evil, is no otherwise to make them known to us than\nby making us reflect on what we feel in ourselves, upon the several and\nvarious operations of good and evil upon our minds, as they are\ndifferently applied to or considered by us.\n\n2. Good and evil, what.\n\nThings then are good or evil, only in reference to pleasure or pain.\nThat we call GOOD, which is apt to cause or increase pleasure, or\ndiminish pain in us; or else to procure or preserve us the possession\nof any other good or absence of any evil. And, on the contrary, we name\nthat EVIL which is apt to produce or increase any pain, or diminish any\npleasure in us: or else to procure us any evil, or deprive us of any\ngood. By pleasure and pain, I must be understood to mean of body or\nmind, as they are commonly distinguished; though in truth they be only\ndifferent constitutions of the MIND, sometimes occasioned by disorder\nin the body, sometimes by thoughts of the mind.\n\n3. Our passions moved by Good and Evil.\n\nPleasure and pain and that which causes them,\u2014good and evil, are the\nhinges on which our passions turn. And if we reflect on ourselves, and\nobserve how these, under various considerations, operate in us; what\nmodifications or tempers of mind, what internal sensations (if I may so\ncall them) they produce in us we may thence form to ourselves the ideas\nof our passions.\n\n4. Love.\n\nThus any one reflecting upon the thought he has of the delight which\nany present or absent thing is apt to produce in him, has the idea we\ncall LOVE. For when a man declares in autumn when he is eating them, or\nin spring when there are none, that he loves grapes, it is no more but\nthat the taste of grapes delights him: let an alteration of health or\nconstitution destroy the delight of their taste, and he then can be\nsaid to love grapes no longer.\n\n5. Hatred.\n\nOn the contrary, the thought of the pain which anything present or\nabsent is apt to produce in us, is what we call HATRED. Were it my\nbusiness here to inquire any further than into the bare ideas of our\npassions, as they depend on different modifications of pleasure and\npain, I should remark that our love and hatred of inanimate insensible\nbeings is commonly founded on that pleasure and pain which we receive\nfrom their use and application any way to our senses though with their\ndestruction. But hatred or love, to beings capable of happiness or\nmisery, is often the uneasiness of delight which we find in ourselves,\narising from their very being or happiness. Thus the being and welfare\nof a man\u2019s children or friends, producing constant delight in him, he\nis said constantly to love them. But it suffices to note, that our\nideas of love and hatred are but the dispositions of the mind, in\nrespect of pleasure and pain in general, however caused in us.\n\n6. Desire.\n\nThe uneasiness a man finds in himself upon the absence of anything\nwhose present enjoyment carries the idea of delight with it, is that we\ncall DESIRE; which is greater or less as that uneasiness is more or\nless vehement. Where, by the by, it may perhaps be of some use to\nremark, that the chief, if not only spur to human industry and action\nis UNEASINESS. For whatsoever good is proposed, if its absence carries\nno displeasure or pain with it, if a man be easy and content without\nit, there is no desire of it, nor endeavour after it; there is no more\nbut a bare velleity, the term used to signify the lowest degree of\ndesire, and that which is next to none at all, when there is so little\nuneasiness in the absence of anything, that it carries a man no further\nthan some faint wishes for it, without any more effectual or vigorous\nuse of the means to attain it. Desire also is stopped or abated by the\nopinion of the impossibility or unattainableness of the good proposed,\nas far as the uneasiness is cured or allayed by that consideration.\nThis might carry our thoughts further, were it seasonable in this\nplace.\n\n7. Joy.\n\nJOY is a delight of the mind, from the consideration of the present or\nassured approaching possession of a good; and we are then possessed of\nany good, when we have it so in our power that we can use it when we\nplease. Thus a man almost starved has joy at the arrival of relief,\neven before he has the pleasure of using it: and a father, in whom the\nvery well-being of his children causes delight, is always, as long as\nhis children are in such a state, in the possession of that good; for\nhe needs but to reflect on it, to have that pleasure.\n\n8. Sorrow.\n\nSORROW is uneasiness in the mind, upon the thought of a good lost,\nwhich might have been enjoyed longer; or the sense of a present evil.\n\n9. Hope.\n\nHOPE is that pleasure in the mind, which every one finds in himself,\nupon the thought of a probable future enjoyment of a thing which is apt\nto delight him.\n\n10. Fear.\n\nFEAR is an uneasiness of the mind, upon the thought of future evil\nlikely to befall us.\n\n11. Despair.\n\nDESPAIR is the thought of the unattainableness of any good, which works\ndifferently in men\u2019s minds, sometimes producing uneasiness or pain,\nsometimes rest and indolency.\n\n12. Anger.\n\nANGER is uneasiness or discomposure of the mind, upon the receipt of\nany injury, with a present purpose of revenge.\n\n13. Envy.\n\nENVY is an uneasiness of the mind, caused by the consideration of a\ngood we desire obtained by one we think should not have had it before\nus.\n\n14. What Passions all Men have.\n\nThese two last, ENVY and ANGER, not being caused by pain and pleasure\nsimply in themselves, but having in them some mixed considerations of\nourselves and others, are not therefore to be found in all men, because\nthose other parts, of valuing their merits, or intending revenge, is\nwanting in them. But all the rest, terminating purely in pain and\npleasure, are, I think, to be found in all men. For we love, desire,\nrejoice, and hope, only in respect of pleasure; we hate, fear, and\ngrieve, only in respect of pain ultimately. In fine, all these passions\nare moved by things, only as they appear to be the causes of pleasure\nand pain, or to have pleasure or pain some way or other annexed to\nthem. Thus we extend our hatred usually to the subject (at least, if a\nsensible or voluntary agent) which has produced pain in us; because the\nfear it leaves is a constant pain: but we do not so constantly love\nwhat has done us good; because pleasure operates not so strongly on us\nas pain, and because we are not so ready to have hope it will do so\nagain. But this by the by.\n\n15. Pleasure and Pain, what.\n\nBy pleasure and pain, delight and uneasiness, I must all along be\nunderstood (as I have above intimated) to mean not only bodily pain and\npleasure, but whatsoever delight or uneasiness is felt by us, whether\narising from any grateful or unacceptable sensation or reflection.\n\n16. Removal or lessening of either.\n\nIt is further to be considered, that, in reference to the passions, the\nremoval or lessening of a pain is considered, and operates, as a\npleasure: and the loss or diminishing of a pleasure, as a pain.\n\n17. Shame.\n\nThe passions too have most of them, in most persons, operations on the\nbody, and cause various changes in it; which not being always sensible,\ndo not make a necessary part of the idea of each passion. For SHAME,\nwhich is an uneasiness of the mind upon the thought of having done\nsomething which is indecent, or will lessen the valued esteem which\nothers have for us, has not always blushing accompanying it.\n\n18. These Instances to show how our Ideas of the Passions are got from\nSensation and Reflection.\n\nI would not be mistaken here, as if I meant this as a Discourse of the\nPassions; they are many more than those I have here named: and those I\nhave taken notice of would each of them require a much larger and more\naccurate discourse. I have only mentioned these here, as so many\ninstances of modes of pleasure and pain resulting in our minds from\nvarious considerations of good and evil. I might perhaps have instanced\nin other modes of pleasure and pain, more simple than these; as the\npain of hunger and thirst, and the pleasure of eating and drinking to\nremove them: the pain of teeth set on edge; the pleasure of music; pain\nfrom captious uninstructive wrangling, and the pleasure of rational\nconversation with a friend, or of well-directed study in the search and\ndiscovery of truth. But the passions being of much more concernment to\nus, I rather made choice to instance in them, and show how the ideas we\nhave of them are derived from sensation or reflection.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXI.\nOF POWER.\n\n\n1. This Idea how got.\n\nThe mind being every day informed, by the senses, of the alteration of\nthose simple ideas it observes in things without; and taking notice how\none comes to an end, and ceases to be, and another begins to exist\nwhich was not before; reflecting also on what passes within itself, and\nobserving a constant change of its ideas, sometimes by the impression\nof outward objects on the senses, and sometimes by the determination of\nits own choice; and concluding from what it has so constantly observed\nto have been, that the like changes will for the future be made in the\nsame things, by like agents, and by the like ways,\u2014considers in one\nthing the possibility of having any of its simple ideas changed, and in\nanother the possibility of making that change; and so comes by that\nidea which we call POWER. Thus we say, Fire has a power to melt gold,\ni. e. to destroy the consistency of its insensible parts, and\nconsequently its hardness, and make it fluid; and gold has a power to\nbe melted; that the sun has a power to blanch wax, and wax a power to\nbe blanched by the sun, whereby the yellowness is destroyed, and\nwhiteness made to exist in its room. In which, and the like cases, the\npower we consider is in reference to the change of perceivable ideas.\nFor we cannot observe any alteration to be made in, or operation upon\nanything, but by the observable change of its sensible ideas; nor\nconceive any alteration to be made, but by conceiving a change of some\nof its ideas.\n\n2. Power, active and passive.\n\nPower thus considered is two-fold, viz. as able to make, or able to\nreceive any change. The one may be called ACTIVE, and the other PASSIVE\npower. Whether matter be not wholly destitute of active power, as its\nauthor, God, is truly above all passive power; and whether the\nintermediate state of created spirits be not that alone which is\ncapable of both active and passive power, may be worth consideration. I\nshall not now enter into that inquiry, my present business being not to\nsearch into the original of power, but how we come by the IDEA of it.\nBut since active powers make so great a part of our complex ideas of\nnatural substances, (as we shall see hereafter,) and I mention them as\nsuch, according to common apprehension; yet they being not, perhaps, so\ntruly ACTIVE powers as our hasty thoughts are apt to represent them, I\njudge it not amiss, by this intimation, to direct our minds to the\nconsideration of God and spirits, for the clearest idea of ACTIVE\npower.\n\n3. Power includes Relation.\n\nI confess power includes in it some kind of RELATION (a relation to\naction or change,) as indeed which of our ideas of what kind soever,\nwhen attentively considered, does not. For, our ideas of extension,\nduration, and number, do they not all contain in them a secret relation\nof the parts? Figure and motion have something relative in them much\nmore visibly. And sensible qualities, as colours and smells, &c. what\nare they but the powers of different bodies, in relation to our\nperception, &c.? And, if considered in the things themselves, do they\nnot depend on the bulk, figure, texture, and motion of the parts? All\nwhich include some kind of relation in them. Our idea therefore of\npower, I think, may well have a place amongst other SIMPLE IDEAS, and\nbe considered as one of them; being one of those that make a principal\ningredient in our complex ideas of substances, as we shall hereafter\nhave occasion to observe.\n\n4. The clearest Idea of active Power had from Spirit.\n\nOf passive power all sensible things abundantly furnish us with\nsensible ideas, whose sensible qualities and beings we find to be in\ncontinual flux. And therefore with reason we look on them as liable\nstill to the same change. Nor have we of ACTIVE power (which is the\nmore proper signification of the word power) fewer instances. Since\nwhatever change is observed, the mind must collect a power somewhere\nable to make that change, as well as a possibility in the thing itself\nto receive it. But yet, if we will consider it attentively, bodies, by\nour senses, do not afford us so clear and distinct an idea of active\npower, as we have from reflection on the operations of our minds. For\nall power relating to action, and there being but two sorts of action\nwhereof we have an idea, viz. thinking and motion, let us consider\nwhence we have the clearest ideas of the powers which produce these\nactions. (1) Of thinking, body affords us no idea at all; it is only\nfrom reflection that we have that. (2) Neither have we from body any\nidea of the beginning of motion. A body at rest affords us no idea of\nany active power to move; and when it is set in motion itself, that\nmotion is rather a passion than an action in it. For, when the ball\nobeys the motion of a billiard-stick, it is not any action of the ball,\nbut bare passion. Also when by impulse it sets another ball in motion\nthat lay in its way, it only communicates the motion it had received\nfrom another, and loses in itself so much as the other received: which\ngives us but a very obscure idea of an ACTIVE power of moving in body,\nwhilst we observe it only to TRANSFER, but not PRODUCE any motion. For\nit is but a very obscure idea of power which reaches not the production\nof the action, but the continuation of the passion. For so is motion in\na body impelled by another; the continuation of the alteration made in\nit from rest to motion being little more an action, than the\ncontinuation of the alteration of its figure by the same blow is an\naction. The idea of the BEGINNING of motion we have only from\nreflection on what passes in ourselves; where we find by experience,\nthat, barely by willing it, barely by a thought of the mind, we can\nmove the parts of our bodies, which were before at rest. So that it\nseems to me, we have, from the observation of the operation of bodies\nby our senses, but a very imperfect obscure idea of ACTIVE power; since\nthey afford us not any idea in themselves of the power to begin any\naction, either motion or thought. But if, from the impulse bodies are\nobserved to make one upon another, any one thinks he has a clear idea\nof power, it serves as well to my purpose; sensation being one of those\nways whereby the mind comes by its ideas: only I thought it worth while\nto consider here, by the way, whether the mind doth not receive its\nidea of active power clearer from reflection on its own operations,\nthan it doth from any external sensation.\n\n5. Will and Understanding two Powers in Mind or Spirit.\n\nThis, at least, I think evident,\u2014That we find in ourselves a power to\nbegin or forbear, continue or end several actions of our minds, and\nmotions of our bodies, barely by a thought or preference of the mind\nordering, or as it were commanding, the doing or not doing such or such\na particular action. This power which the mind has thus to order the\nconsideration of any idea, or the forbearing to consider it; or to\nprefer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa,\nin any particular instance, is that which we call the WILL. The actual\nexercise of that power, by directing any particular action, or its\nforbearance, is that which we call VOLITION or WILLING. The forbearance\nof that action, consequent to such order or command of the mind, is\ncalled VOLUNTARY. And whatsoever action is performed without such a\nthought of the mind, is called INVOLUNTARY. The power of perception is\nthat which we call the UNDERSTANDING. Perception, which we make the act\nof the understanding, is of three sorts:\u20141. The perception of ideas in\nour minds. 2. The perception of the signification of signs. 3. The\nperception of the connexion or repugnancy, agreement or disagreement,\nthat there is between any of our ideas. All these are attributed to the\nunderstanding, or perceptive power, though it be the two latter only\nthat use allows us to say we understand.\n\n6. Faculties not real beings.\n\nThese powers of the mind, viz. of perceiving, and of preferring, are\nusually called by another name. And the ordinary way of speaking is,\nthat the understanding and will are two FACULTIES of the mind; a word\nproper enough, if it be used, as all words should be, so as not to\nbreed any confusion in men\u2019s thoughts, by being supposed (as I suspect\nit has been) to stand for some real beings in the soul that performed\nthose actions of understanding and volition. For when we say the WILL\nis the commanding and superior faculty of the soul; that it is or is\nnot free; that it determines the inferior faculties; that it follows\nthe dictates of the understanding, &c.,\u2014though these and the like\nexpressions, by those that carefully attend to their own ideas, and\nconduct their thoughts more by the evidence of things than the sound of\nwords, may be understood in a clear and distinct sense\u2014yet I suspect, I\nsay, that this way of speaking of FACULTIES has misled many into a\nconfused notion of so many distinct agents in us, which had their\nseveral provinces and authorities, and did command, obey, and perform\nseveral actions, as so many distinct beings; which has been no small\noccasion of wrangling, obscurity, and uncertainty, in questions\nrelating to them.\n\n7. Whence the Ideas of Liberty and Necessity.\n\nEvery one, I think, finds in HIMSELF a power to begin or forbear,\ncontinue or put an end to several actions in himself. From the\nconsideration of the extent of this power of the mind over the actions\nof the man, which everyone finds in himself, arise the IDEAS of LIBERTY\nand NECESSITY.\n\n8. Liberty, what.\n\nAll the actions that we have any idea of reducing themselves, as has\nbeen said, to these two, viz. thinking and motion; so far as a man has\npower to think or not to think, to move or not to move, according to\nthe preference or direction of his own mind, so far is a man FREE.\nWherever any performance or forbearance are not equally in a man\u2019s\npower; wherever doing or not doing will not equally FOLLOW upon the\npreference of his mind directing it, there he is not free, though\nperhaps the action may be voluntary. So that the idea of LIBERTY is,\nthe idea of a power in any agent to do or forbear any particular\naction, according to the determination or thought of the mind, whereby\neither of them is preferred to the other: where either of them is not\nin the power of the agent to be produced by him according to his\nvolition, there he is not at liberty; that agent is under NECESSITY. So\nthat liberty cannot be where there is no thought, no volition, no will;\nbut there may be thought, there may be will, there may be volition,\nwhere there is no liberty. A little consideration of an obvious\ninstance or two may make this clear.\n\n9. Supposes Understanding and Will.\n\nA tennis-ball, whether in motion by the stroke of a racket, or lying\nstill at rest, is not by any one taken to be a free agent. If we\ninquire into the reason, we shall find it is because we conceive not a\ntennis-ball to think, and consequently not to have any volition, or\nPREFERENCE of motion to rest, or vice versa; and therefore has not\nliberty, is not a free agent; but all its both motion and rest come\nunder our idea of necessary, and are so called. Likewise a man falling\ninto the water, (a bridge breaking under him,) has not herein liberty,\nis not a free agent. For though he has volition, though he prefers his\nnot falling to falling; yet the forbearance of that motion not being in\nhis power, the stop or cessation of that motion follows not upon his\nvolition; and therefore therein he is not free. So a man striking\nhimself, or his friend, by a convulsive motion of his arm, which it is\nnot in his power, by volition or the direction of his mind, to stop or\nforbear, nobody thinks he has in this liberty; every one pities him, as\nacting by necessity and constraint.\n\n10. Belongs not to Volition.\n\nAgain: suppose a man be carried, whilst fast asleep, into a room where\nis a person he longs to see and speak with; and be there locked fast\nin, beyond his power to get out: he awakes, and is glad to find himself\nin so desirable company, which he stays willingly in, i. e. prefers his\nstay to going away. I ask, is not this stay voluntary? I think nobody\nwill doubt it: and yet, being locked fast in, it is evident he is not\nat liberty not to stay, he has not freedom to be gone. So that liberty\nis not an idea belonging to volition, or preferring; but to the person\nhaving the power of doing, or forbearing to do, according as the mind\nshall choose or direct. Our idea of liberty reaches as far as that\npower, and no farther. For wherever restraint comes to check that\npower, or compulsion takes away that indifferency of ability to act, or\nto forbear acting, there liberty, and our notion of it, presently\nceases.\n\n11. Voluntary opposed to involuntary.\n\nWe have instances enough, and often more than enough, in our own\nbodies. A man\u2019s heart beats, and the blood circulates, which it is not\nin his power by any thought or volition to stop; and therefore in\nrespect of these motions, where rest depends not on his choice, nor\nwould follow the determination of his mind, if it should prefer it, he\nis not a free agent. Convulsive motions agitate his legs, so that\nthough he wills it ever so much, he cannot by any power of his mind\nstop their motion, (as in that odd disease called chorea sancti viti),\nbut he is perpetually dancing; he is not at liberty in this action, but\nunder as much necessity of moving, as a stone that falls, or a\ntennis-ball struck with a racket. On the other side, a palsy or the\nstocks hinder his legs from obeying the determination of his mind, if\nit would thereby transfer his body to another place. In all these there\nis want of freedom; though the sitting still, even of a paralytic,\nwhilst he prefers it to a removal, is truly voluntary. Voluntary, then,\nis not opposed to necessary but to involuntary. For a man may prefer\nwhat he can do, to what he cannot do; the state he is in, to its\nabsence or change; though necessity has made it in itself unalterable.\n\n12. Liberty, what.\n\nAs it is in the motions of the body, so it is in the thoughts of our\nminds: where any one is such, that we have power to take it up, or lay\nit by, according to the preference of the mind, there we are at\nliberty. A waking man, being under the necessity of having some ideas\nconstantly in his mind, is not at liberty to think or not to think; no\nmore than he is at liberty, whether his body shall touch any other or\nno, but whether he will remove his contemplation from one idea to\nanother is many times in his choice; and then he is, in respect of his\nideas, as much at liberty as he is in respect of bodies he rests on; he\ncan at pleasure remove himself from one to another. But yet some ideas\nto the mind, like some motions to the body, are such as in certain\ncircumstances it cannot avoid, nor obtain their absence by the utmost\neffort it can use. A man on the rack is not at liberty to lay by the\nidea of pain, and divert himself with other contemplations: and\nsometimes a boisterous passion hurries our thoughts, as a hurricane\ndoes our bodies, without leaving us the liberty of thinking on other\nthings, which we would rather choose. But as soon as the mind regains\nthe power to stop or continue, begin or forbear, any of these motions\nof the body without, or thoughts within, according as it thinks fit to\nprefer either to the other, we then consider the man as a FREE AGENT\nagain.\n\n13. Wherever thought is wholly wanting, or the power to act or forbear\naccording to the direction of thought, there necessity takes place.\nThis, in an agent capable of volition, when the beginning or\ncontinuation of any action is contrary to that preference of his mind,\nis called compulsion; when the hindering or stopping any action is\ncontrary to his volition, it is called restraint. Agents that have no\nthought, no volition at all, are in everything NECESSARY AGENTS.\n\n14. If this be so, (as I imagine it is,) I leave it to be considered,\nwhether it may not help to put an end to that long agitated, and, I\nthink, unreasonable, because unintelligible question, viz. WHETHER\nMAN\u2019S WILL BE FREE OR NO? For if I mistake not, it follows from what I\nhave said, that the question itself is altogether improper; and it is\nas insignificant to ask whether man\u2019s WILL be free, as to ask whether\nhis sleep be swift, or his virtue square: liberty being as little\napplicable to the will, as swiftness of motion is to sleep, or\nsquareness to virtue. Every one would laugh at the absurdity of such a\nquestion as either of these: because it is obvious that the\nmodifications of motion belong not to sleep, nor the difference of\nfigure to virtue; and when any one well considers it, I think he will\nas plainly perceive that liberty, which is but a power, belongs only to\nAgents, and cannot be an attribute or modification of the will, which\nis also but a power.\n\n15. Volition.\n\nSuch is the difficulty of explaining and giving clear notions of\ninternal actions by sounds, that I must here warn my reader, that\nORDERING, DIRECTING, CHOOSING, PREFERRING, &c. which I have made use\nof, will not distinctly enough express volition, unless he will reflect\non what he himself does when he wills. For example, preferring, which\nseems perhaps best to express the act of volition, does it not\nprecisely. For though a man would prefer flying to walking, yet who can\nsay he ever wills it? Volition, it is plain, is an act of the mind\nknowingly exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part\nof the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, any particular\naction. And what is the will, but the faculty to do this? And is that\nfaculty anything more in effect than a power; the power of the mind to\ndetermine its thought, to the producing, continuing, or stopping any\naction, as far as it depends on us? For can it be denied that whatever\nagent has a power to think on its own actions, and to prefer their\ndoing or omission either to other, has that faculty called will? WILL,\nthen, is nothing but such a power. LIBERTY, on the other side, is the\npower a MAN has to do or forbear doing any particular action according\nas its doing or forbearance has the actual preference in the mind;\nwhich is the same thing as to say, according as he himself wills it.\n\n16. Powers belonging to Agents.\n\nIt is plain then that the will is nothing but one power or ability, and\nFREEDOM another power or ability so that, to ask, whether the will has\nfreedom, is to ask whether one power has another power, one ability\nanother ability; a question at first sight too grossly absurd to make a\ndispute, or need an answer. For, who is it that sees not that powers\nbelong only to agents, and are attributes only of substances, and not\nof powers themselves? So that this way of putting the question (viz.\nwhether the will be free) is in effect to ask, whether the will be a\nsubstance, an agent, or at least to suppose it, since freedom can\nproperly be attributed to nothing else. If freedom can with any\npropriety of speech be applied to power, it may be attributed to the\npower that is in a man to produce, or forbear producing, motion in\nparts of his body, by choice or preference; which is that which\ndenominates him free, and is freedom itself. But if any one should ask,\nwhether freedom were free, he would be suspected not to understand well\nwhat he said; and he would be thought to deserve Midas\u2019s ears, who,\nknowing that rich was a denomination for the possession of riches,\nshould demand whether riches themselves were rich.\n\n17. How the will instead of the man is called free.\n\nHowever, the name FACULTY, which men have given to this power called\nthe will, and whereby they have been led into a way of talking of the\nwill as acting, may, by an appropriation that disguises its true sense,\nserve a little to palliate the absurdity; yet the will, in truth,\nsignifies nothing but a power or ability to prefer or choose: and when\nthe will, under the name of a faculty, is considered as it is, barely\nas an ability to do something, the absurdity in saying it is free, or\nnot free, will easily discover itself. For, if it be reasonable to\nsuppose and talk of faculties as distinct beings that can act, (as we\ndo, when we say the will orders, and the will is free,) it is fit that\nwe should make a speaking faculty, and a walking faculty, and a dancing\nfaculty, by which these actions are produced, which are but several\nmodes of motion; as well as we make the will and understanding to be\nfaculties, by which the actions of choosing and perceiving are\nproduced, which are but several modes of thinking. And we may as\nproperly say that it is the singing faculty sings, and the dancing\nfaculty dances, as that the will chooses, or that the understanding\nconceives; or, as is usual, that the will directs the understanding, or\nthe understanding obeys or obeys not the will: it being altogether as\nproper and intelligible to say that the power of speaking directs the\npower of singing, or the power of singing obeys or disobeys the power\nof speaking.\n\n18. This way of talking causes confusion of thought.\n\nThis way of talking, nevertheless, has prevailed, and, as I guess,\nproduced great confusion. For these being all different powers in the\nmind, or in the man, to do several actions, he exerts them as he thinks\nfit: but the power to do one action is not operated on by the power of\ndoing another action. For the power of thinking operates not on the\npower of choosing, nor the power of choosing on the power of thinking;\nno more than the power of dancing operates on the power of singing, or\nthe power of singing on the power of dancing, as any one who reflects\non it will easily perceive. And yet this is it which we say when we\nthus speak, that the will operates on the understanding, or the\nunderstanding on the will.\n\n19. Powers are relations, not agents.\n\nI grant, that this or that actual thought may be the occasion of\nvolition, or exercising the power a man has to choose; or the actual\nchoice of the mind, the cause of actual thinking on this or that thing:\nas the actual singing of such a tune may be the cause of dancing such a\ndance, and the actual dancing of such a dance the occasion of singing\nsuch a tune. But in all these it is not one POWER that operates on\nanother: but it is the mind that operates, and exerts these powers; it\nis the man that does the action; it is the agent that has power, or is\nable to do. For powers are relations, not agents: and that which has\nthe power or not the power to operate, is that alone which is or is not\nfree, and not the power itself. For freedom, or not freedom, can belong\nto nothing but what has or has not a power to act.\n\n20. Liberty belongs not to the Will.\n\nThe attributing to faculties that which belonged not to them, has given\noccasion to this way of talking: but the introducing into discourses\nconcerning the mind, with the name of faculties, a notion of THEIR\noperating, has, I suppose, as little advanced our knowledge in that\npart of ourselves, as the great use and mention of the like invention\nof faculties, in the operations of the body, has helped us in the\nknowledge of physic. Not that I deny there are faculties, both in the\nbody and mind: they both of them have their powers of operating, else\nneither the one nor the other could operate. For nothing can operate\nthat is not able to operate; and that is not able to operate that has\nno power to operate. Nor do I deny that those words, and the like, are\nto have their place in the common use of languages that have made them\ncurrent. It looks like too much affectation wholly to lay them by: and\nphilosophy itself, though it likes not a gaudy dress, yet, when it\nappears in public, must have so much complacency as to be clothed in\nthe ordinary fashion and language of the country, so far as it can\nconsist with truth and perspicuity. But the fault has been, that\nfaculties have been spoken of and represented as so many distinct\nagents. For, it being asked, what it was that digested the meat in our\nstomachs? it was a ready and very satisfactory answer to say, that it\nwas the DIGESTIVE FACULTY. What was it that made anything come out of\nthe body? the EXPULSIVE FACULTY. What moved? the MOTIVE FACULTY. And so\nin the mind, the INTELLECTUAL FACULTY, or the understanding,\nunderstood; and the ELECTIVE FACULTY, or the will, willed or commanded.\nThis is, in short, to say, that the ability to digest, digested; and\nthe ability to move, moved; and the ability to understand, understood.\nFor faculty, ability, and power, I think, are but different names of\nthe same things: which ways of speaking, when put into more\nintelligible words, will, I think, amount to thus much;\u2014That digestion\nis performed by something that is able to digest, motion by something\nable to move, and understanding by something able to understand. And,\nin truth, it would be very strange if it should be otherwise; as\nstrange as it would be for a man to be free without being able to be\nfree.\n\n21. But to the Agent, or Man.\n\nTo return, then, to the inquiry about liberty, I think the question is\nnot proper, WHETHER THE WILL BE FREE, but WHETHER A MAN BE FREE. Thus,\nI think,\n\nFirst, That so far as any one can, by the direction or choice of his\nmind, preferring the existence of any action to the non-existence of\nthat action, and vice versa, make IT to exist or not exist, so far HE\nis free. For if I can, by a thought directing the motion of my finger,\nmake it move when it was at rest, or vice versa, it is evident, that in\nrespect of that I am free: and if I can, by a like thought of my mind,\npreferring one to the other, produce either words or silence, I am at\nliberty to speak or hold my peace: and as far as this power reaches, of\nacting or not acting, by the determination of his own thought\npreferring either, so far is a man free. For how can we think any one\nfreer, than to have the power to do what he will? And so far as any one\ncan, by preferring any action to its not being, or rest to any action,\nproduce that action or rest, so far can he do what he will. For such a\npreferring of action to its absence, is the willing of it: and we can\nscarce tell how to imagine any being freer, than to be able to do what\nhe wills. So that in respect of actions within the reach of such a\npower in him, a man seems as free as it is possible for freedom to make\nhim.\n\n22. In respect of willing, a Man is not free.\n\nBut the inquisitive mind of man, willing to shift off from himself, as\nfar as he can, all thoughts of guilt, though it be by putting himself\ninto a worse state than that of fatal necessity, is not content with\nthis: freedom, unless it reaches further than this, will not serve the\nturn: and it passes for a good plea, that a man is not free at all, if\nhe be not as FREE TO WILL as he is to ACT WHAT HE WILLS. Concerning a\nman\u2019s liberty, there yet, therefore, is raised this further question,\nWHETHER A MAN BE FREE TO WILL? which I think is what is meant, when it\nis disputed whether the will be free. And as to that I imagine.\n\n23. How a man cannot be free to will.\n\nSecondly, That willing, or volition, being an action, and freedom\nconsisting in a power of acting or not acting, a man in respect of\nwilling or the act of volition, when any action in his power is once\nproposed to his thoughts, as presently to be done, cannot be free. The\nreason whereof is very manifest. For, it being unavoidable that the\naction depending on his will should exist or not exist, and its\nexistence or not existence following perfectly the determination and\npreference of his will, he cannot avoid willing the existence or\nnon-existence of that action; it is absolutely necessary that he will\nthe one or the other; i.e. prefer the one to the other: since one of\nthem must necessarily follow; and that which does follow follows by the\nchoice and determination of his mind; that is, by his willing it: for\nif he did not will it, it would not be. So that, in respect of the act\nof willing, a man is not free: liberty consisting in a power to act or\nnot to act; which, in regard of volition, a man, has not.\n\n24. Liberty is freedom to execute what is willed.\n\nThis, then, is evident, That A MAN IS NOT AT LIBERTY TO WILL, OR NOT TO\nWILL, ANYTHING IN HIS POWER THAT HE ONCE CONSIDERS OF: liberty\nconsisting in a power to act or to forbear acting, and in that only.\nFor a man that sits still is said yet to be at liberty; because he can\nwalk if he wills it. A man that walks is at liberty also, not because\nhe walks or moves; but because he can stand still if he wills it. But\nif a man sitting still has not a power to remove himself, he is not at\nliberty; so likewise a man falling down a precipice, though in motion,\nis not at liberty, because he cannot stop that motion if he would. This\nbeing so, it is plain that a man that is walking, to whom it is\nproposed to give off walking, is not at liberty, whether he will\ndetermine himself to walk, or give off walking or not: he must\nnecessarily prefer one or the other of them; walking or not walking.\nAnd so it is in regard of all other actions in our power; they being\nonce proposed, the mind has not a power to act or not to act, wherein\nconsists liberty. The mind, in that case, has not a power to forbear\nWILLING; it cannot avoid some determination concerning them, let the\nconsideration be as short, the thought as quick as it will, it either\nleaves the man in the state he was before thinking, or changes it;\ncontinues the action, or puts an end to it. Whereby it is manifest,\nthat IT orders and directs one, in preference to, or with neglect of\nthe other, and thereby either the continuation or change becomes\nUNAVOIDABLY voluntary.\n\n25. The Will determined by something without it.\n\nSince then it is plain that, in most cases, a man is not at liberty,\nwhether he will or no, (for, when an action in his power is proposed to\nhis thoughts, he CANNOT forbear volition; he MUST determine one way or\nthe other;) the next thing demanded is,\u2014WHETHER A MAN BE AT LIBERTY TO\nWILL WHICH OF THE TWO HE PLEASES, MOTION OR REST? This question carries\nthe absurdity of it so manifestly in itself, that one might thereby\nsufficiently be convinced that liberty concerns not the will. For, to\nask whether a man be at liberty to will either motion or rest, speaking\nor silence, which he pleases, is to ask whether a man can will what he\nwills, or be pleased with what he is pleased with? A question which, I\nthink, needs no answer: and they who can make a question of it must\nsuppose one will to determine the acts of another, and another to\ndetermine that, and so on in infinitum.\n\n26. The ideas of LIBERTY and VOLITION must be defined.\n\nTo avoid these and the like absurdities, nothing can be of greater use\nthan to establish in our minds determined ideas of the things under\nconsideration. If the ideas of liberty and volition were well fixed in\nour understandings, and carried along with us in our minds, as they\nought, through all the questions that are raised about them, I suppose\na great part of the difficulties that perplex men\u2019s thoughts, and\nentangle their understandings, would be much easier resolved; and we\nshould perceive where the confused signification of terms, or where the\nnature of the thing caused the obscurity.\n\n27. Freedom.\n\nFirst, then, it is carefully to be remembered, That freedom consists in\nthe dependence of the existence, or not existence of any ACTION, upon\nour VOLITION of it; and not in the dependence of any action, or its\ncontrary, on our PREFERENCE. A man standing on a cliff, is at liberty\nto leap twenty yards downwards into the sea, not because he has a power\nto do the contrary action, which is to leap twenty yards upwards, for\nthat he cannot do; but he is therefore free, because he has a power to\nleap or not to leap. But if a greater force than his, either holds him\nfast, or tumbles him down, he is no longer free in that case; because\nthe doing or forbearance of that particular action is no longer in his\npower. He that is a close prisoner in a room twenty feet square, being\nat the north side of his chamber, is at liberty to walk twenty feet\nsouthward, because he can walk or not walk it; but is not, at the same\ntime, at liberty to do the contrary, i.e. to walk twenty feet\nnorthward.\n\nIn this, then, consists FREEDOM, viz. in our being able to act or not\nto act, according as we shall choose or will.\n\n28. What Volition and action mean.\n\nSecondly, we must remember, that VOLITION or WILLING is an act of the\nmind directing its thought to the production of any action, and thereby\nexerting its power to produce it. To avoid multiplying of words, I\nwould crave leave here, under the word ACTION, to comprehend the\nforbearance too of any action proposed: sitting still, or holding one\u2019s\npeace, when walking or speaking are proposed, though mere forbearances,\nrequiring as much the determination of the will, and being as often\nweighty in their consequences, as the contrary actions, may, on that\nconsideration, well enough pass for actions too: but this I say, that I\nmay not be mistaken, if (for brevity\u2019s sake) I speak thus.\n\n29. What determines the Will.\n\nThirdly, the will being nothing but a power in the mind to direct the\noperative faculties of a man to motion or rest as far as they depend on\nsuch direction; to the question, What is it determines the will? the\ntrue and proper answer is, The mind. For that which determines the\ngeneral power of directing, to this or that particular direction, is\nnothing but the agent itself exercising the power it has that\nparticular way. If this answer satisfies not, it is plain the meaning\nof the question, What determines the will? is this,\u2014What moves the\nmind, in every particular instance, to determine its general power of\ndirecting, to this or that particular motion or rest? And to this I\nanswer,\u2014The motive for continuing in the same state or action, is only\nthe present satisfaction in it; the motive to change is always some\nuneasiness: nothing setting us upon the change of state, or upon any\nnew action, but some uneasiness. This is the great motive that works on\nthe mind to put it upon action, which for shortness\u2019 sake we will call\ndetermining of the will, which I shall more at large explain.\n\n30. Will and Desire must not be confounded.\n\nBut, in the way to it, it will be necessary to premise, that, though I\nhave above endeavoured to express the act of volition, by CHOOSING,\nPREFERRING, and the like terms, that signify desire as well as\nvolition, for want of other words to mark that act of the mind whose\nproper name is WILLING or VOLITION; yet, it being a very simple act,\nwhosoever desires to understand what it is, will better find it by\nreflecting on his own mind, and observing what it does when it wills,\nthan by any variety of articulate sounds whatsoever. This caution of\nbeing careful not to be misled by expressions that do not enough keep\nup the difference between the WILL and several acts of the mind that\nare quite distinct from it, I think the more necessary, because I find\nthe will often confounded with several of the affections, especially\nDESIRE, and one put for the other; and that by men who would not\nwillingly be thought not to have had very distinct notions of things,\nand not to have writ very clearly about them. This, I imagine, has been\nno small occasion of obscurity and mistake in this matter; and\ntherefore is, as much as may be, to be avoided. For he that shall turn\nhis thoughts inwards upon what passes in his mind when he wills, shall\nsee that the will or power of volition is conversant about nothing but\nour own ACTIONS; terminates there; and reaches no further; and that\nvolition is nothing but that particular determination of the mind,\nwhereby, barely by a thought, the mind endeavours to give rise,\ncontinuation, or stop, to any action which it takes to be in its power.\nThis, well considered, plainly shows that the will is perfectly\ndistinguished from desire; which, in the very same action, may have a\nquite contrary tendency from that which our will sets us upon. A man,\nwhom I cannot deny, may oblige me to use persuasions to another, which,\nat the same time I am speaking, I may wish may not prevail on him. In\nthis case, it is plain the will and desire run counter. I will the\naction; that tends one way, whilst my desire tends another, and that\nthe direct contrary way. A man who, by a violent fit of the gout in his\nlimbs, finds a doziness in his head, or a want of appetite in his\nstomach removed, desires to be eased too of the pain of his feet or\nhands, (for wherever there is pain, there is a desire to be rid of it,)\nthough yet, whilst he apprehends that the removal of the pain may\ntranslate the noxious humour to a more vital part, his will is never\ndetermined to any one action that may serve to remove this pain. Whence\nit is evident that desiring and willing are two distinct acts of the\nmind; and consequently, that the will, which is but the power of\nvolition, is much more distinct from desire.\n\n31. Uneasiness determines the Will.\n\nTo return, then, to the inquiry, what is it that determines the will in\nregard to our actions? And that, upon second thoughts, I am apt to\nimagine is not, as is generally supposed, the greater good in view; but\nsome (and for the most part the most pressing) UNEASINESS a man is at\npresent under. This is that which successively determines the will, and\nsets us upon those actions we perform. This uneasiness we may call, as\nit is, DESIRE; which is an uneasiness of the mind for want of some\nabsent good. All pain of the body, of what sort soever, and disquiet of\nthe mind, is uneasiness: and with this is always joined desire, equal\nto the pain or uneasiness felt; and is scarce distinguishable from it.\nFor desire being nothing but an uneasiness in the want of an absent\ngood, in reference to any pain felt, ease is that absent good; and till\nthat ease be attained, we may call it desire; nobody feeling pain that\nhe wishes not to be eased of, with a desire equal to that pain, and\ninseparable from it. Besides this desire of ease from pain, there is\nanother of absent positive good; and here also the desire and\nuneasiness are equal. As much as we desire any absent good, so much are\nwe in pain for it. But here all absent good does not, according to the\ngreatness it has, or is acknowledged to have, cause pain equal to that\ngreatness; as all pain causes desire equal to itself: because the\nabsence of good is not always a pain, as the presence of pain is. And\ntherefore absent good may be looked on and considered without desire.\nBut so much as there is anywhere of desire, so much there is of\nuneasiness.\n\n32. Desire is Uneasiness.\n\nThat desire is a state of uneasiness, every one who reflects on himself\nwill quickly find. Who is there that has not felt in desire what the\nwise man says of hope, (which is not much different from it,) that it\nbeing \u2018deferred makes the heart sick\u2019; and that still proportionable to\nthe greatness of the desire, which sometimes raises the uneasiness to\nthat pitch, that it makes people cry out, \u2018Give me children,\u2019 give me\nthe thing desired, \u2018or I die.\u2019 Life itself, and all its enjoyments, is\na burden cannot be borne under the lasting and unremoved pressure of\nsuch an uneasiness.\n\n33. The Uneasiness of Desire determines the Will.\n\nGood and evil, present and absent, it is true, work upon the mind. But\nthat which IMMEDIATELY determines the will from time to time, to every\nvoluntary action, is the UNEASINESS OF DESIRE, fixed on some absent\ngood: either negative, as indolence to one in pain; or positive, as\nenjoyment of pleasure. That it is this uneasiness that determines the\nwill to the successive voluntary actions, whereof the greatest part of\nour lives is made up, and by which we are conducted through different\ncourses to different ends, I shall endeavour to show, both from\nexperience, and the reason of the thing.\n\n34. This is the Spring of Action.\n\nWhen a man is perfectly content with the state he is in\u2014which is when\nhe is perfectly without any uneasiness\u2014what industry, what action, what\nwill is there left, but to continue in it? Of this every man\u2019s\nobservation will satisfy him. And thus we see our all-wise Maker,\nsuitably to our constitution and frame, and knowing what it is that\ndetermines the will, has put into man the uneasiness of hunger and\nthirst, and other natural desires, that return at their seasons, to\nmove and determine their wills, for the preservation of themselves, and\nthe continuation of their species. For I think we may conclude, that,\nif the BARE CONTEMPLATION of these good ends to which we are carried by\nthese several uneasinesses had been sufficient to determine the will,\nand set us on work, we should have had none of these natural pains, and\nperhaps in this world little or no pain at all. \u2018It is better to marry\nthan to burn,\u2019 says St. Paul, where we may see what it is that chiefly\ndrives men into the enjoyments of a conjugal life. A little burning\nfelt pushes us more powerfully than greater pleasure in prospect draw\nor allure.\n\n35. The greatest positive Good determines not the Will, but present\nUneasiness alone.\n\nIt seems so established and settled a maxim, by the general consent of\nall mankind, that good, the greater good, determines the will, that I\ndo not at all wonder that, when I first published my thoughts on this\nsubject I took it for granted; and I imagine that, by a great many, I\nshall be thought more excusable for having then done so, than that now\nI have ventured to recede from so received an opinion. But yet, upon a\nstricter inquiry, I am forced to conclude that GOOD, the GREATER GOOD,\nthough apprehended and acknowledged to be so, does not determine the\nwill, until our desire, raised proportionably to it, makes us uneasy in\nthe want of it. Convince a man never so much, that plenty has its\nadvantages over poverty; make him see and own, that the handsome\nconveniences of life are better than nasty penury: yet, as long as he\nis content with the latter, and finds no uneasiness in it, he moves\nnot; his will never is determined to any action that shall bring him\nout of it. Let a man be ever so well persuaded of the advantages of\nvirtue, that it is as necessary to a man who has any great aims in this\nworld, or hopes in the next, as food to life: yet, till he hungers or\nthirsts after righteousness, till he FEELS AN UNEASINESS in the want of\nit, his WILL will not be determined to any action in pursuit of this\nconfessed greater good; but any other uneasiness he feels in himself\nshall take place, and carry his will to other actions. On the other\nside, let a drunkard see that his health decays, his estate wastes;\ndiscredit and diseases, and the want of all things, even of his beloved\ndrink, attends him in the course he follows: yet the returns of\nuneasiness to miss his companions, the habitual thirst after his cups\nat the usual time, drives him to the tavern, though he has in his view\nthe loss of health and plenty, and perhaps of the joys of another life:\nthe least of which is no inconsiderable good, but such as he confesses\nis far greater than the tickling of his palate with a glass of wine, or\nthe idle chat of a soaking club. It is not want of viewing the greater\ngood: for he sees and acknowledges it, and, in the intervals of his\ndrinking hours, will take resolutions to pursue the greater good; but\nwhen the uneasiness to miss his accustomed delight returns, the greater\nacknowledged good loses its hold, and the present uneasiness determines\nthe will to the accustomed action; which thereby gets stronger footing\nto prevail against the next occasion, though he at the same time makes\nsecret promises to himself that he will do so no more; this is the last\ntime he will act against the attainment of those greater goods. And\nthus he is, from time to time, in the state of that unhappy complainer,\nVideo meliora, proboque, deteriora sequor: which sentence, allowed for\ntrue, and made good by constant experience, may in this, and possibly\nno other way, be easily made intelligible.\n\n36. Because the Removal of Uneasiness is the first Step to Happiness.\n\nIf we inquire into the reason of what experience makes so evident in\nfact, and examine, why it is uneasiness alone operates on the will, and\ndetermines it in its choice, we shall find that, we being capable but\nof one determination of the will to one action at once, the present\nuneasiness that we are under does NATURALLY determine the will, in\norder to that happiness which we all aim at in all our actions. For, as\nmuch as whilst we are under any uneasiness, we cannot apprehend\nourselves happy, or in the way to it; pain and uneasiness being, by\nevery one, concluded and felt to be inconsistent with happiness,\nspoiling the relish even of those good things which we have: a little\npain serving to mar all the pleasure we rejoiced in. And, therefore,\nthat which of course determines the choice of our will to the next\naction will always be\u2014the removing of pain, as long as we have any\nleft, as the first and necessary step towards happiness.\n\n37. Because Uneasiness alone is present.\n\nAnother reason why it is uneasiness alone determines the will, is this:\nbecause that alone is present and, it is against the nature of things,\nthat what is absent should operate where it is not. It may be said that\nabsent good may, by contemplation, be brought home to the mind and made\npresent. The idea of it indeed may be in the mind and viewed as present\nthere; but nothing will be in the mind as a present good, able to\ncounterbalance the removal of any uneasiness which we are under, till\nit raises our desire; and the uneasiness of that has the prevalency in\ndetermining the will. Till then, the idea in the mind of whatever is\ngood is there only, like other ideas, the object of bare unactive\nspeculation; but operates not on the will, nor sets us on work; the\nreason whereof I shall show by and by. How many are to be found that\nhave had lively representations set before their minds of the\nunspeakable joys of heaven, which they acknowledge both possible and\nprobable too, who yet would be content to take up with their happiness\nhere? And so the prevailing uneasiness of their desires, let loose\nafter the enjoyments of this life, take their turns in the determining\ntheir wills; and all that while they take not one step, are not one jot\nmoved, towards the good things of another life, considered as ever so\ngreat.\n\n38. Because all who allow the Joys of Heaven possible, pursue them not.\n\nWere the will determined by the views of good, as it appears in\ncontemplation greater or less to the understanding, which is the state\nof all absent good, and that which, in the received opinion, the will\nis supposed to move to, and to be moved by,\u2014I do not see how it could\never get loose from the infinite eternal joys of heaven, once proposed\nand considered as possible. For, all absent good, by which alone,\nbarely proposed, and coming in view, the will is thought to be\ndetermined, and so to set us on action, being only possible, but not\ninfallibly certain, it is unavoidable that the infinitely greater\npossible good should regularly and constantly determine the will in all\nthe successive actions it directs; and then we should keep constantly\nand steadily in our course towards heaven, without ever standing still,\nor directing our actions to any other end: the eternal condition of a\nfuture state infinitely outweighing the expectation of riches, or\nhonour, or any other worldly pleasure which we can propose to\nourselves, though we should grant these the more probable to be\nobtained: for nothing future is yet in possession, and so the\nexpectation even of these may deceive us. If it were so that the\ngreater good in view determines the will, so great a good, once\nproposed, could not but seize the will, and hold it fast to the pursuit\nof this infinitely greatest good, without ever letting it go again: for\nthe will having a power over, and directing the thoughts, as well as\nother actions, would, if it were so, hold the contemplation of the mind\nfixed to that good.\n\n39. But any great Uneasiness is never neglected.\n\nThis would be the state of the mind, and regular tendency of the will\nin all its determinations, were it determined by that which is\nconsidered and in view the greater good. But that it is not so, is\nvisible in experience; the infinitely greatest confessed good being\noften neglected, to satisfy the successive uneasiness of our desires\npursuing trifles. But, though the greatest allowed, even everlasting\nunspeakable, good, which has sometimes moved and affected the mind,\ndoes not stedfastly hold the will, yet we see any very great and\nprevailing uneasiness having once laid hold on the will, let it not go;\nby which we may be convinced, what it is that determines the will. Thus\nany vehement pain of the body; the ungovernable passion of a man\nviolently in love; or the impatient desire of revenge, keeps the will\nsteady and intent; and the will, thus determined, never lets the\nunderstanding lay by the object, but all the thoughts of the mind and\npowers of the body are uninterruptedly employed that way, by the\ndetermination of the will, influenced by that topping uneasiness, as\nlong as it lasts; whereby it seems to me evident, that the will, or\npower of setting us upon one action in preference to all others, is\ndetermined in us by uneasiness: and whether this be not so, I desire\nevery one to observe in himself.\n\n40. Desire accompanies all Uneasiness.\n\nI have hitherto chiefly instanced in the UNEASINESS of desire, as that\nwhich determines the will: because that is the chief and most sensible;\nand the will seldom orders any action, nor is there any voluntary\naction performed, without some desire accompanying it; which I think is\nthe reason why the will and desire are so often confounded. But yet we\nare not to look upon the uneasiness which makes up, or at least\naccompanies, most of the other passions, as wholly excluded in the\ncase. Aversion, fear, anger, envy, shame, &c. have each their\nuneasinesses too, and thereby influence the will. These passions are\nscarce any of them, in life and practice, simple and alone, and wholly\nunmixed with others; though usually, in discourse and contemplation,\nthat carries the name which operates strongest, and appears most in the\npresent state of the mind. Nay, there is, I think, scarce any of the\npassions to be found without desire joined with it. I am sure wherever\nthere is uneasiness, there is desire. For we constantly desire\nhappiness; and whatever we feel of uneasiness, so much it is certain we\nwant of happiness; even in our own opinion, let our state and condition\notherwise be what it will. Besides, the present moment not being our\neternity, whatever our enjoyment be, we look beyond the present, and\ndesire goes with our foresight, and that still carries the will with\nit. So that even in joy itself, that which keeps up the action whereon\nthe enjoyment depends, is the desire to continue it, and fear to lose\nit: and whenever a greater uneasiness than that takes place in the\nmind, the will presently is by that determined to some new action, and\nthe present delight neglected.\n\n41. The most pressing Uneasiness naturally determines the Will.\n\nBut we being in this world beset with sundry uneasinesses, distracted\nwith different desires, the next inquiry naturally will be,\u2014Which of\nthem has the precedency in determining the will to the next action? and\nto that the answer is,\u2014That ordinarily which is the most pressing of\nthose that are judged capable of being then removed. For, the will\nbeing the power of directing our operative faculties to some action,\nfor some end, cannot at any time be moved towards what is judged at\nthat time unattainable: that would be to suppose an intelligent being\ndesignedly to act for an end, only to lose its labour; for so it is to\nact for what is judged not attainable; and therefore very great\nuneasinesses move not the will, when they are judged not capable of a\ncure: they in that case put us not upon endeavours. But, these set\napart the most important and urgent uneasiness we at that time feel, is\nthat which ordinarily determines the will, successively, in that train\nof voluntary actions which makes up our lives. The greatest present\nuneasiness is the spur to action, that is constantly most felt, and for\nthe most part determines the will in its choice of the next action. For\nthis we must carry along with us, that the proper and only object of\nthe will is some action of ours, and nothing else. For we producing\nnothing by our willing it, but some action in our power, it is there\nthe will terminates, and reaches no further.\n\n42. All desire Happiness.\n\nIf it be further asked,\u2014What it is moves desire? I answer,\u2014happiness,\nand that alone. Happiness and misery are the names of two extremes, the\nutmost bounds whereof we know not; it is what be in itself good; and\nwhat is apt to produce any degree of pain be evil; yet it often happens\nthat we do not call it so when it comes in competition with a greater\nof its sort; because, when they come in competition, the degrees also\nof pleasure and pain have justly a preference. So that if we will\nrightly estimate what we call good and evil, we shall find it lies much\nin comparison: for the cause of every less degree of pain, as well as\nevery greater degree of pleasure, has the nature of good, and vice\nversa.\n\n43. [* missing]\n\n44. What Good is desired, what not.\n\nThough this be that which is called good and evil, and all good be the\nproper object of desire in general; yet all good, even seen and\nconfessed to be so, does not necessarily move every particular man\u2019s\ndesire; but only that part, or so much of it as is considered and taken\nto make a necessary part of HIS happiness. All other good, however\ngreat in reality or appearance, excites not a man\u2019s desires who looks\nnot on it to make a part of that happiness wherewith he, in his present\nthoughts, can satisfy himself. Happiness, under this view, every one\nconstantly pursues, and desires what makes any part of it: other\nthings, acknowledged to be good, he can look upon without desire, pass\nby, and be content without. There is nobody, I think, so senseless as\nto deny that there is pleasure in knowledge: and for the pleasures of\nsense, they have too many followers to let it be questioned whether men\nare taken with them or no. Now, let one man place his satisfaction in\nsensual pleasures, another in the delight of knowledge: though each of\nthem cannot but confess, there is great pleasure in what the other\npursues; yet, neither of them making the other\u2019s delight a part of HIS\nhappiness, their desires are not moved, but each is satisfied without\nwhat the other enjoys; and so his will is not determined to the pursuit\nof it. But yet, as soon as the studious man\u2019s hunger and thirst make\nhim uneasy, he, whose will was never determined to any pursuit of good\ncheer, poignant sauces, delicious wine, by the pleasant taste he has\nfound in them, is, by the uneasiness of hunger and thirst, presently\ndetermined to eating and drinking, though possibly with great\nindifferency, what wholesome food comes in his way. And, on the other\nside, the epicure buckles to study, when shame, or the desire to\nrecommend himself to his mistress, shall make him uneasy in the want of\nany sort of knowledge. Thus, how much soever men are in earnest and\nconstant in pursuit of happiness, yet they may have a clear view of\ngood, great and confessed good, without being concerned for it, or\nmoved by it, if they think they can make up their happiness without it.\nThough as to pain, THAT they are always concerned for; they can feel no\nuneasiness without being moved. And therefore, being uneasy in the want\nof whatever is judged necessary to their happiness, as soon as any good\nappears to make a part of their portion of happiness, they begin to\ndesire it.\n\n45. Why the greatest Good is not always desired.\n\nThis, I think, any one may observe in himself and others,\u2014That the\ngreater visible good does not always raise men\u2019s desires in proportion\nto the greatness it appears, and is acknowledged, to have: though every\nlittle trouble moves us, and sets us on work to get rid of it. The\nreason whereof is evident from the nature of our happiness and misery\nitself. All present pain, whatever it be, makes a part of our present\nmisery: but all absent good does not at any time make a necessary part\nof our present happiness, nor the absence of it make a part of our\nmisery. If it did, we should be constantly and infinitely miserable;\nthere being infinite degrees of happiness which are not in our\npossession. All uneasiness therefore being removed, a moderate portion\nof good serve at present to content men; and a few degrees of pleasure\nin a succession of ordinary enjoyments, make up a happiness wherein\nthey can be satisfied. If this were not so, there could be no room for\nthose indifferent and visibly trifling actions, to which our wills are\nso often determined, and wherein we voluntarily waste so much of our\nlives; which remissness could by no means consist with a constant\ndetermination of will or desire to the greatest apparent good. That\nthis is so, I think few people need go far from home to be convinced.\nAnd indeed in this life there are not many whose happiness reaches so\nfar as to afford them a constant train of moderate mean pleasures,\nwithout any mixture of uneasiness; and yet they could be content to\nstay here for ever: though they cannot deny, but that it is possible\nthere may be a state of eternal durable joys after this life, far\nsurpassing all the good that is to be found here. Nay, they cannot but\nsee that it is more possible than the attainment and continuation of\nthat pittance of honour, riches, or pleasure which they pursue, and for\nwhich they neglect that eternal state. But yet, in full view of this\ndifference, satisfied of the possibility of a perfect, secure, and\nlasting happiness in a future state, and under a clear conviction that\nit is not to be had here,\u2014whilst they bound their happiness within some\nlittle enjoyment or aim of this life, and exclude the joys of heaven\nfrom making any necessary part of it,\u2014their desires are not moved by\nthis greater apparent good, nor their wills determined to any action,\nor endeavour for its attainment.\n\n46. Why not being desired, it moves not the Will.\n\nThe ordinary necessities of our lives fill a great part of them with\nthe uneasinesses of hunger, thirst, heat, cold, weariness, with labour,\nand sleepiness, in their constant returns, &c. To which, if, besides\naccidental harms, we add the fantastical uneasiness (as itch after\nhonour, power, or riches, &c.) which acquired habits, by fashion,\nexample, and education, have settled in us, and a thousand other\nirregular desires, which custom has made natural to us, we shall find\nthat a very little part of our life is so vacant from THESE\nuneasinesses, as to leave us free to the attraction of remoter absent\ngood. We are seldom at ease, and free enough from the solicitation of\nour natural or adopted desires, but a constant succession of\nuneasinesses out of that stock which natural wants or acquired habits\nhave heaped up, take the will in their turns; and no sooner is one\naction dispatched, which by such a determination of the will we are set\nupon, but another uneasiness is ready to set us on work. For, the\nremoving of the pains we feel, and are at present pressed with, being\nthe getting out of misery, and consequently the first thing to be done\nin order to happiness,\u2014absent good, though thought on, confessed, and\nappearing to be good, not making any part of this unhappiness in its\nabsence, is justled out, to make way for the removal of those\nuneasinesses we feel; till due and repeated contemplation has brought\nit nearer to our mind, given some relish of it, and raised in us some\ndesire: which then beginning to make a part of our present uneasiness,\nstands upon fair terms with the rest to be satisfied, and so, according\nto its greatness and pressure, comes in its turn to determine the will.\n\n47. Due Consideration raises Desire.\n\nAnd thus, by a due consideration, and examining any good proposed, it\nis in our power to raise our desires in a due proportion to the value\nof that good, whereby in its turn and place it may come to work upon\nthe will, and be pursued. For good, though appearing and allowed ever\nso great, yet till it has raised desires in our minds, and thereby made\nus uneasy in its want, it reaches not our wills; we are not within the\nsphere of its activity, our wills being under the determination only of\nthose uneasinesses which are present to us, which (whilst we have any)\nare always soliciting, and ready at hand, to give the will its next\ndetermination. The balancing, when there is any in the mind, being\nonly, which desire shall be next satisfied, which uneasiness first\nremoved. Whereby it comes to pass that, as long as any uneasiness, any\ndesire, remains in our mind, there is no room for good, barely as such,\nto come at the will, or at all to determine it. Because, as has been\nsaid, the FIRST step in our endeavours after happiness being to get\nwholly out of the confines of misery, and to feel no part of it, the\nwill can be at leisure for nothing else, till every uneasiness we feel\nbe perfectly removed: which, in the multitude of wants and desires we\nare beset with in this imperfect state, we are not like to be ever\nfreed from in this world.\n\n48. The Power to suspend the Prosecution of any Desire makes way for\nconsideration.\n\nThere being in us a great many uneasinesses, always soliciting and\nready to determine the will, it is natural, as I have said, that the\ngreatest and most pressing should determine the will to the next\naction; and so it does for the most part, but not always. For, the mind\nhaving in most cases, as is evident in experience, a power to SUSPEND\nthe execution and satisfaction of any of its desires; and so all, one\nafter another; is at liberty to consider the objects of them, examine\nthem on all sides, and weigh them with others. In this lies the liberty\nman has; and from the not using of it right comes all that variety of\nmistakes, errors, and faults which we run into in the conduct of our\nlives, and our endeavours after happiness; whilst we precipitate the\ndetermination of our wills, and engage too soon, before due\nexamination. To prevent this, we have a power to suspend the\nprosecution of this or that desire; as every one daily may experiment\nin himself. This seems to me the source of all liberty; in this seems\nto consist that which is (as I think improperly) called FREE-WILL. For,\nduring this suspension of any desire, before the will be determined to\naction, and the action (which follows that determination) done, we have\nopportunity to examine, view, and judge of the good or evil of what we\nare going to do; and when, upon due examination, we have judged, we\nhave done our duty, all that we can, or ought to do, in pursuit of our\nhappiness; and it is not a fault, but a perfection of our nature, to\ndesire, will, and act according to the last result of a fair\nexamination.\n\n49. To be determined by our own Judgment, is no Restraint to Liberty.\n\nThis is so far from being a restraint or diminution of freedom, that it\nis the very improvement and benefit of it; it is not an abridgment, it\nis the end and use of our liberty; and the further we are removed from\nsuch a determination, the nearer we are to misery and slavery. A\nperfect indifference in the mind, not determinable by its last judgment\nof the good or evil that is thought to attend its choice, would be so\nfar from being an advantage and excellency of any intellectual nature,\nthat it would be as great an imperfection, as the want of indifferency\nto act, or not to act, till determined by the will, would be an\nimperfection on the other side. A man is at liberty to lift up his hand\nto his head, or let it rest quiet: he is perfectly indifferent in\neither; and it would be an imperfection in him, if he wanted that\npower, if he were deprived of that indifferency. But it would be as\ngreat an imperfection, if he had the same indifferency, whether he\nwould prefer the lifting up his hand, or its remaining in rest, when it\nwould save his head or eyes from a blow he sees coming: it is as much a\nperfection, that desire, or the power of preferring, should be\ndetermined by good, as that the power of acting should be determined by\nthe will; and the certainer such determination is, the greater is the\nperfection. Nay, were we determined by anything but the last result of\nour own minds, judging of the good or evil of any action, we were not\nfree.\n\n50. The freest Agents are so determined.\n\nIf we look upon those superior beings above us, who enjoy perfect\nhappiness, we shall have reason to judge that they are more steadily\ndetermined in their choice of good than we; and yet we have no reason\nto think they are less happy, or less free, than we are. And if it were\nfit for such poor finite creatures as we are to pronounce what infinite\nwisdom and goodness could do, I think we might say, that God himself\nCANNOT choose what is not good; the freedom of the Almighty hinders not\nhis being determined by what is best.\n\n51. A constant Determination to a Pursuit of Happiness no Abridgment of\nLiberty.\n\nBut to give a right view of this mistaken part of liberty let me\nask,\u2014Would any one be a changeling, because he is less determined by\nwise considerations than a wise man? Is it worth the name of freedom to\nbe at liberty to play the fool, and draw shame and misery upon a man\u2019s\nself? If to break loose from the conduct of reason, and to want that\nrestraint of examination and judgment which keeps us from choosing or\ndoing the worse, be liberty, true liberty, madmen and fools are the\nonly freemen: but yet, I think, nobody would choose to be mad for the\nsake of such liberty, but he that is mad already. The constant desire\nof happiness, and the constraint it puts upon us to act for it, nobody,\nI think, accounts an abridgment of liberty, or at least an abridgment\nof liberty to be complained of. God Almighty himself is under the\nnecessity of being happy; and the more any intelligent being is so, the\nnearer is its approach to infinite perfection and happiness. That, in\nthis state of ignorance, we short-sighted creatures might not mistake\ntrue felicity, we are endowed with a power to suspend any particular\ndesire, and keep it from determining the will, and engaging us in\naction. This is standing still, where we are not sufficiently assured\nof the way: examination is consulting a guide. The determination of the\nwill upon inquiry, is following the direction of that guide: and he\nthat has a power to act or not to act, according as SUCH determination\ndirects, is a free agent: such determination abridges not that power\nwherein liberty consists. He that has his chains knocked off, and the\nprison doors set open to him, is perfectly at liberty, because he may\neither go or stay, as he best likes, though his preference be\ndetermined to stay, by the darkness of the night, or illness of the\nweather, or want of other lodging. He ceases not to be free; though the\ndesire of some convenience to be had there absolutely determines his\npreference, and makes him stay in his prison.\n\n52. The Necessity of pursuing true Happiness the Foundation of Liberty.\n\nAs therefore the highest perfection of intellectual nature lies in a\ncareful and constant pursuit of true and solid happiness; so the care\nof ourselves, that we mistake not imaginary for real happiness, is the\nnecessary foundation of our liberty. The stronger ties we have to an\nunalterable pursuit of happiness in general, which is our greatest\ngood, and which as such, our desires always follow, the more are we\nfree from any necessary determination of our will to any particular\naction, and from a necessary compliance with our desire, so upon any\nparticular, and then appearing preferable good, till we have duly\nexamined whether it has a tendency to, or be inconsistent with, our\nreal happiness: and therefore, till we are as much informed upon this\ninquiry as the weight of the matter, and the nature of the case\ndemands, we are, by the necessity of preferring and pursuing true\nhappiness as our greatest good, obliged to suspend the satisfaction of\nour desires in particular cases.\n\n53. Power to Suspend.\n\nThis is the hinge on which turns the LIBERTY of intellectual beings, in\ntheir constant endeavours after, and a steady prosecution of true\nfelicity,\u2014That they CAN SUSPEND this prosecution in particular cases,\ntill they have looked before them, and informed themselves whether that\nparticular thing which is then proposed or desired lie in the way to\ntheir main end, and make a real part of that which is their greatest\ngood. For, the inclination and tendency of their nature to happiness is\nan obligation and motive to them, to take care not to mistake or miss\nit; and so necessarily puts them upon caution, deliberation, and\nwariness, in the direction of their particular actions, which are the\nmeans to obtain it. Whatever necessity determines to the pursuit of\nreal bliss, the same necessity, with the same force, establishes\nsuspense, deliberation, and scrutiny of each successive desire, whether\nthe satisfaction of it does not interfere with our true happiness, and\nmislead us from it. This, as seems to me, is the great privilege of\nfinite intellectual beings; and I desire it may be well considered,\nwhether the great inlet and exercise of all the liberty men have, are\ncapable of, or can be useful to them, and that whereon depends the turn\nof their actions, does not lie in this,\u2014That they can suspend their\ndesires, and stop them from determining their wills to any action, till\nthey have duly and fairly examined the good and evil of it, as far\nforth as the weight of the thing requires. This we are able to do; and\nwhen we have done it, we have done our duty, and all that is in our\npower; and indeed all that needs. For, since the will supposes\nknowledge to guide its choice, all that we can do is to hold our wills\nundetermined, till we have examined the good and evil of what we\ndesire. What follows after that, follows in a chain of consequences,\nlinked one to another, all depending on the last determination of the\njudgment, which, whether it shall be upon a hasty and precipitate view,\nor upon a due and mature examination, is in our power; experience\nshowing us, that in most cases, we are able to suspend the present\nsatisfaction of any desire.\n\n54. Government of our Passions the right Improvement of Liberty.\n\nBut if any extreme disturbance (as sometimes it happens) possesses our\nwhole mind, as when the pain of the rack, an impetuous uneasiness, as\nof love, anger, or any other violent passion, running away with us,\nallows us not the liberty of thought, and we are not masters enough of\nour own minds to consider thoroughly and examine fairly;\u2014God, who knows\nour frailty, pities our weakness, and requires of us no more than we\nare able to do, and sees what was and what was not in our power, will\njudge as a kind and merciful Father. But the forbearance of a too hasty\ncompliance with our desires, the moderation and restraint of our\npassions, so that our understandings may be free to examine, and reason\nunbiassed, give its judgment, being that whereon a right direction of\nour conduct to true happiness depends; it is in this we should employ\nour chief care and endeavours. In this we should take pains to suit the\nrelish of our minds to the true intrinsic good or ill that is in\nthings; and not permit an allowed or supposed possible great and\nweighty good to slip out of our thoughts, without leaving any relish,\nany desire of itself there till, by a due consideration of its true\nworth, we have formed appetites in our minds suitable to it, and made\nourselves uneasy in the want of it, or in the fear of losing it. And\nhow much this is in every one\u2019s power, by making resolutions to\nhimself, such as he may keep, is easy for every one to try. Nor let any\none say, he cannot govern his passions, nor hinder them from breaking\nout, and carrying him into action; for what he can do before a prince\nor a great man, he can do alone, or in the presence of God, if he will.\n\n55. How Men come to pursue different, and often evil Courses.\n\nFrom what has been said, it is easy to give an account how it comes to\npass, that, though all men desire happiness, yet their wills carry them\nso contrarily; and consequently, some of them to what is evil. And to\nthis I say, that the various and contrary choices that men make in the\nworld do not argue that they do not all pursue good; but that the same\nthing is not good to every man alike. This variety of pursuits shows,\nthat every one does not place his happiness in the same thing, or\nchoose the same way to it. Were all the concerns of man terminated in\nthis life, why one followed study and knowledge, and another hawking\nand hunting: why one chose luxury and debauchery, and another sobriety\nand riches, would not be because every one of these did NOT aim at his\nown happiness; but because their happiness was placed in different\nthings. And therefore it was a right answer of the physician to his\npatient that had sore eyes:\u2014If you have more pleasure in the taste of\nwine than in the use of your sight, wine is good for you; but if the\npleasure of seeing be greater to you than that of drinking, wine is\nnaught.\n\n56. All men seek happiness, but not of the same sort.\n\nThe mind has a different relish, as well as the palate; and you will as\nfruitlessly endeavour to delight all men with riches or glory (which\nyet some men place their happiness in) as you would to satisfy all\nmen\u2019s hunger with cheese or lobsters; which, though very agreeable and\ndelicious fare to some, are to others extremely nauseous and offensive:\nand many persons would with reason prefer the griping of an hungry\nbelly to those dishes which are a feast to others. Hence it was, I\nthink, that the philosophers of old did in vain inquire, whether summum\nbonum consisted in riches, or bodily delights, or virtue, or\ncontemplation: and they might have as reasonably disputed, whether the\nbest relish were to be found in apples, plums, or nuts, and have\ndivided themselves into sects upon it. For, as pleasant tastes depend\nnot on the things themselves, but on their agreeableness to this or\nthat particular palate, wherein there is great variety; so the greatest\nhappiness consists in the having those things which produce the\ngreatest pleasure, and in the absence of those which cause any\ndisturbance, any pain. Now these, to different men, are very different\nthings. If, therefore, men in this life only have hope; if in this life\nonly they can enjoy, it is not strange nor unreasonable, that they\nshould seek their happiness by avoiding all things that disease them\nhere, and by pursuing all that delight them; wherein it will be no\nwonder to find variety and difference. For if there be no prospect\nbeyond the grave, the inference is certainly right\u2014\u2018Let us eat and\ndrink,\u2019 let us enjoy what we delight in, \u2018for to-morrow we shall die.\u2019\nThis, I think, may serve to show us the reason, why, though all men\u2019s\ndesires tend to happiness, yet they are not moved by the same object.\nMen may choose different things, and yet all choose right; supposing\nthem only like a company of poor insects; whereof some are bees,\ndelighted with flowers and their sweetness; others beetles, delighted\nwith other kinds of viands, which having enjoyed for a season, they\nwould cease to be, and exist no more for ever.\n\n57. [not in early editions]\n\n58. Why men choose what makes them miserable.\n\nWhat has been said may also discover to us the reason why men in this\nworld prefer different things, and pursue happiness by contrary\ncourses. But yet, since men are always constant and in earnest in\nmatters of happiness and misery, the question still remains, How men\ncome often to prefer the worse to the better; and to choose that,\nwhich, by their own confession, has made them miserable?\n\n59. The causes of this.\n\nTo account for the various and contrary ways men take, though all aim\nat being happy, we must consider whence the VARIOUS UNEASINESSES that\ndetermine the will, in the preference of each voluntary action, have\ntheir rise:\u2014\n\n1. From bodily pain.\n\nSome of them come from causes not in our power; such as are often the\npains of the body from want, disease, or outward injuries, as the rack,\netc.; which, when present and violent, operate for the most part\nforcibly on the will, and turn the courses of men\u2019s lives from virtue,\npiety, and religion, and what before they judged to lead to happiness;\nevery one not endeavouring, or not being able, by the contemplation of\nremote and future good, to raise in himself desires of them strong\nenough to counterbalance the uneasiness he feels in those bodily\ntorments, and to keep his will steady in the choice of those actions\nwhich lead to future happiness. A neighbouring country has been of late\na tragical theatre from which we might fetch instances, if there needed\nany, and the world did not in all countries and ages furnish examples\nenough to confirm that received observation: NECESSITAS COGIT AD\nTURPIA; and therefore there is great reason for us to pray, \u2018Lead us\nnot into temptation.\u2019\n\n2. From wrong Desires arising from wrong Judgments.\n\nOther uneasinesses arise from our desires of absent good; which desires\nalways bear proportion to, and depend on, the judgment we make, and the\nrelish we have of any absent good; in both which we are apt to be\nvariously misled, and that by our own fault.\n\n60. Our judgment of present Good or Evil always right.\n\nIn the first place, I shall consider the wrong judgments men make of\nFUTURE good and evil, whereby their desires are misled. For, as to\nPRESENT happiness and misery, when that alone comes into consideration,\nand the consequences are quite removed, a man never chooses amiss: he\nknows what best pleases him, and that he actually prefers. Things in\ntheir present enjoyment are what they seem: the apparent and real good\nare, in this case, always the same. For the pain or pleasure being just\nso great and no greater than it is felt, the present good or evil is\nreally so much as it appears. And therefore were every action of ours\nconcluded within itself, and drew no consequences after it, we should\nundoubtedly never err in our choice of good: we should always\ninfallibly prefer the best. Were the pains of honest industry, and of\nstarving with hunger and cold set together before us, nobody would be\nin doubt which to choose: were the satisfaction of a lust and the joys\nof heaven offered at once to any one\u2019s present possession, he would not\nbalance, or err in the determination of his choice.\n\n61. Our wrong judgments have regard to future good and evil only.\n\nBut since our voluntary actions carry not all the happiness and misery\nthat depend on them along with them in their present performance, but\nare the precedent causes of good and evil, which they draw after them,\nand bring upon us, when they themselves are past and cease to be; our\ndesires look beyond our present enjoyments, and carry the mind out to\nABSENT GOOD, according to the necessity which we think there is of it,\nto the making or increase of our happiness. It is our opinion of such a\nnecessity that gives it its attraction: without that, we are not moved\nby absent good. For, in this narrow scantling of capacity which we are\naccustomed to and sensible of here, wherein we enjoy but one pleasure\nat once, which, when all uneasiness is away, is, whilst it lasts,\nsufficient to make us think ourselves happy, it is not all remote and\neven apparent good that affects us. Because the indolency and enjoyment\nwe have, sufficing for our present happiness, we desire not to venture\nthe change; since we judge that we are happy already, being content,\nand that is enough. For who is content is happy. But as soon as any new\nuneasiness comes in, this happiness is disturbed, and we are set afresh\non work in the pursuit of happiness.\n\n62. From a wrong Judgment of what makes a necessary Part of their\nHappiness.\n\nTheir aptness therefore to conclude that they can be happy without it,\nis one great occasion that men often are not raised to the desire of\nthe greatest ABSENT good. For, whilst such thoughts possess them, the\njoys of a future state move them not; they have little concern or\nuneasiness about them; and the will, free from the determination of\nsuch desires, is left to the pursuit of nearer satisfactions, and to\nthe removal of those uneasinesses which it then feels, in its want of\nany longings after them. Change but a man\u2019s view of these things; let\nhim see that virtue and religion are necessary to his happiness; let\nhim look into the future state of bliss or misery, and see there God,\nthe righteous Judge, ready to \u2018render to every man according to his\ndeeds; to them who by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory,\nand honour, and immortality, eternal life; but unto every soul that\ndoth evil, indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish.\u2019 To him, I\nsay, who hath a prospect of the different state of perfect happiness or\nmisery that attends all men after this life, depending on their\nbehaviour here, the measures of good and evil that govern his choice\nare mightily changed. For, since nothing of pleasure and pain in this\nlife can bear any proportion to the endless happiness or exquisite\nmisery of an immortal soul hereafter, actions in his power will have\ntheir preference, not according to the transient pleasure or pain that\naccompanies or follows them here, but as they serve to secure that\nperfect durable happiness hereafter.\n\n63. A more particular Account of wrong Judgments.\n\nBut, to account more particularly for the misery that men often bring\non themselves, notwithstanding that they do all in earnest pursue\nhappiness, we must consider how things come to be represented to our\ndesires under deceitful appearances: and that is by the judgment\npronouncing wrongly concerning them. To see how far this reaches, and\nwhat are the causes of wrong judgment, we must remember that things are\njudged good or bad in a double sense:\u2014\n\nFirst, THAT WHICH IS PROPERLY GOOD OR BAD, IS NOTHING BUT BARELY\nPLEASURE OR PAIN.\n\nSecondly, But because not only present pleasure and pain, but that also\nwhich is apt by its efficacy or consequences to bring it upon us at a\ndistance, is a proper object of our desires, and apt to move a creature\nthat has foresight; therefore THINGS ALSO THAT DRAW AFTER THEM PLEASURE\nAND PAIN, ARE CONSIDERED AS GOOD AND EVIL.\n\n64. No one chooses misery willingly, but only by wrong judgment.\n\nThe wrong judgment that misleads us, and makes the will often fasten on\nthe worse side, lies in misreporting upon the various comparisons of\nthese. The wrong judgment I am here speaking of is not what one man may\nthink of the determination of another, but what every man himself must\nconfess to be wrong. For, since I lay it for a certain ground, that\nevery intelligent being really seeks happiness, which consists in the\nenjoyment of pleasure, without any considerable mixture of uneasiness;\nit is impossible any one should willingly put into his own draught any\nbitter ingredient, or leave out anything in his power that would tend\nto his satisfaction, and the completing of his happiness, but only by a\nWRONG JUDGMENT. I shall not here speak of that mistake which is the\nconsequence of INVINCIBLE error, which scarce deserves the name of\nwrong judgment; but of that wrong judgment which every man himself must\nconfess to be so.\n\n65. Men may err on comparing Present and Future.\n\n(I) Therefore, as to present pleasure and pain, the mind, as has been\nsaid, never mistakes that which is really good or evil; that which is\nthe greater pleasure, or the greater pain, is really just as it\nappears. But, though present pleasure and pain show their difference\nand degrees so plainly as not to leave room to mistake; yet, WHEN WE\nCOMPARE PRESENT PLEASURE OR PAIN WITH FUTURE, (which is usually the\ncase in most important determinations of the will,) we often make wrong\njudgments of them; taking our measures of them in different positions\nof distance. Objects near our view are apt to be thought greater than\nthose of a larger size that are more remote. And so it is with\npleasures and pains: the present is apt to carry it; and those at a\ndistance have the disadvantage in the comparison. Thus most men, like\nspendthrift heirs, are apt to judge a little in hand better than a\ngreat deal to come; and so, for small matters in possession, part with\ngreater ones in reversion. But that this is a wrong judgment every one\nmust allow, let his pleasure consist in whatever it will: since that\nwhich is future will certainly come to be present; and then, having the\nsame advantage of nearness, will show itself in its full dimensions,\nand discover his wilful mistake who judged of it by unequal measures.\nWere the pleasure of drinking accompanied, the very moment a man takes\noff his glass, with that sick stomach and aching head which, in some\nmen, are sure to follow not many hours after, I think nobody, whatever\npleasure he had in his cups, would, on these conditions, ever let wine\ntouch his lips; which yet he daily swallows, and the evil side comes to\nbe chosen only by the fallacy of a little difference in time. But, if\npleasure or pain can be so lessened only by a few hours\u2019 removal, how\nmuch more will it be so by a further distance to a man that will not,\nby a right judgment, do what time will, i. e. bring it home upon\nhimself, and consider it as present, and there take its true\ndimensions? This is the way we usually impose on ourselves, in respect\nof bare pleasure and pain, or the true degrees of happiness or misery:\nthe future loses its just proportion, and what is present obtains the\npreference as the greater. I mention not here the wrong judgment,\nwhereby the absent are not only lessened, but reduced to perfect\nnothing; when men enjoy what they can in present, and make sure of\nthat, concluding amiss that no evil will thence follow. For that lies\nnot in comparing the greatness of future good and evil, which is that\nwe are here speaking of; but in another sort of wrong judgment, which\nis concerning good or evil, as it is considered to be the cause and\nprocurement of pleasure or pain that will follow from it.\n\n66. Causes of our judging amiss when we compare present pleasure and\npain with future.\n\nThe cause of our judging amiss, when we compare our present pleasure or\npain with future, seems to me to be THE WEAK AND NARROW CONSTITUTION OF\nOUR MINDS. We cannot well enjoy two pleasures at once; much less any\npleasure almost, whilst pain possesses us. The present pleasure, if it\nbe not very languid, and almost none at all, fills our narrow souls,\nand so takes up the whole mind that it scarce leaves any thought of\nthings absent: or if among our pleasures there are some which are not\nstrong enough to exclude the consideration of things at a distance, yet\nwe have so great an abhorrence of pain, that a little of it\nextinguishes all our pleasures. A little bitter mingled in our cup,\nleaves no relish of the sweet. Hence it comes that, at any rate, we\ndesire to be rid of the present evil, which we are apt to think nothing\nabsent can equal; because, under the present pain, we find not\nourselves capable of any the least degree of happiness. Men\u2019s daily\ncomplaints are a loud proof of this: the pain that any one actually\nfeels is still of all other the worst; and it is with anguish they cry\nout,\u2014\u2018Any rather than this: nothing can be so intolerable as what I now\nsuffer.\u2019 And therefore our whole endeavours and thoughts are intent to\nget rid of the present evil, before all things, as the first necessary\ncondition to our happiness; let what will follow. Nothing, as we\npassionately think, can exceed, or almost equal, the uneasiness that\nsits so heavy upon us. And because the abstinence from a present\npleasure that offers itself is a pain, nay, oftentimes a very great\none, the desire being inflamed by a near and tempting object, it is no\nwonder that that operates after the same manner pain does, and lessens\nin our thoughts what is future; and so forces us, as it were blindfold,\ninto its embraces.\n\n67. Absent good unable to counterbalance present uneasiness.\n\nAdd to this, that absent good, or, which is the same thing, future\npleasure,\u2014especially if of a sort we are unacquainted with,\u2014seldom is\nable to counterbalance any uneasiness, either of pain or desire, which\nis present. For, its greatness being no more than what shall be really\ntasted when enjoyed, men are apt enough to lessen that; to make it give\nplace to any present desire; and conclude with themselves that, when it\ncomes to trial, it may possibly not answer the report or opinion that\ngenerally passes of it: they having often found that, not only what\nothers have magnified, but even what they themselves have enjoyed with\ngreat pleasure and delight at one time, has proved insipid or nauseous\nat another; and therefore they see nothing in it for which they should\nforego a present enjoyment. But that this is a false way of judging,\nwhen applied to the happiness of another life, they must confess;\nunless they will say, God cannot make those happy he designs to be so.\nFor that being intended for a state of happiness, it must certainly be\nagreeable to every one\u2019s wish and desire: could we suppose their\nrelishes as different there as they are here, yet the manna in heaven\nwill suit every one\u2019s palate. Thus much of the wrong judgment we make\nof present and future pleasure and pain, when they are compared\ntogether, and so the absent considered as future.\n\n68. Wrong judgment in considering Consequences of Actions.\n\n(II). As to THINGS GOOD OR BAD IN THEIR CONSEQUENCES, and by the\naptness that is in them to procure us good or evil in the future, we\njudge amiss several ways.\n\n1. When we judge that so much evil does not really depend on them as in\ntruth there does.\n\n2. When we judge that, though the consequence be of that moment, yet it\nis not of that certainty, but that it may otherwise fall out, or else\nby some means be avoided; as by industry, address, change, repentance,\n&c.\n\nThat these are wrong ways of judging, were easy to show in every\nparticular, if I would examine them at large singly: but I shall only\nmention this in general, viz. that it is a very wrong and irrational\nway of proceeding, to venture a greater good for a less, upon uncertain\nguesses; and before a due examination be made, proportionable to the\nweightiness of the matter, and the concernment it is to us not to\nmistake. This I think every one must confess, especially if he\nconsiders the usual cause of this wrong judgment, whereof these\nfollowing are some:\u2014\n\n69. Causes of this.\n\n(i) IGNORANCE: He that judges without informing himself to the utmost\nthat he is capable, cannot acquit himself of judging amiss.\n\n(ii) INADVERTENCY: When a man overlooks even that which he does know.\nThis is an affected and present ignorance, which misleads our judgments\nas much as the other. Judging is, as it were, balancing an account, and\ndetermining on which side the odds lie. If therefore either side be\nhuddled up in haste, and several of the sums that should have gone into\nthe reckoning be overlooked and left out, this precipitancy causes as\nwrong a judgment as if it were a perfect ignorance. That which most\ncommonly causes this is, the prevalency of some present pleasure or\npain, heightened by our feeble passionate nature, most strongly wrought\non by what is present. To check this precipitancy, our understanding\nand reason were given us, if we will make a right use of them, to\nsearch and see, and then judge thereupon. How much sloth and\nnegligence, heat and passion, the prevalency of fashion or acquired\nindispositions do severally contribute, on occasion, to these wrong\njudgments, I shall not here further inquire. I shall only add one other\nfalse judgment, which I think necessary to mention, because perhaps it\nis little taken notice of, though of great influence.\n\n70. Wrong judgment of what is necessary to our Happiness.\n\nAll men desire happiness, that is past doubt: but, as has been already\nobserved, when they are rid of pain, they are apt to take up with any\npleasure at hand, or that custom has endeared to them; to rest\nsatisfied in that; and so being happy, till some new desire, by making\nthem uneasy, disturbs that happiness, and shows them that they are not\nso, they look no further; nor is the will determined to any action in\npursuit of any other known or apparent good. For since we find that we\ncannot enjoy all sorts of good, but one excludes another; we do not fix\nour desires on every apparent greater good, unless it be judged to be\nnecessary to our happiness: if we think we can be happy without it, it\nmoves us not. This is another occasion to men of judging wrong; when\nthey take not that to be necessary to their happiness which really is\nso. This mistake misleads us, both in the choice of the good we aim at,\nand very often in the means to it, when it is a remote good. But, which\nway ever it be, either by placing it where really it is not, or by\nneglecting the means as not necessary to it;\u2014when a man misses his\ngreat end, happiness, he will acknowledge he judged not right. That\nwhich contributes to this mistake is the real or supposed\nunpleasantness of the actions which are the way to this end; it seeming\nso preposterous a thing to men, to make themselves unhappy in order to\nhappiness, that they do not easily bring themselves to it.\n\n71. We can change the Agreeableness or Disagreeableness in Things.\n\nThe last inquiry, therefore, concerning this matter is,\u2014Whether it be\nin a man\u2019s power to change the pleasantness and unpleasantness that\naccompanies any sort of action? And as to that, it is plain, in many\ncases he can. Men may and should correct their palates, and give relish\nto what either has, or they suppose has none. The relish of the mind is\nas various as that of the body, and like that too may be altered; and\nit is a mistake to think that men cannot change the displeasingness or\nindifferency that is in actions into pleasure and desire, if they will\ndo but what is in their power. A due consideration will do it in some\ncases; and practice, application, and custom in most. Bread or tobacco\nmay be neglected where they are shown to be useful to health, because\nof an indifferency or disrelish to them; reason and consideration at\nfirst recommends, and begins their trial, and use finds, or custom\nmakes them pleasant. That this is so in virtue too, is very certain.\nActions are pleasing or displeasing, either in themselves, or\nconsidered as a means to a greater and more desirable end. The eating\nof a well-seasoned dish, suited to a man\u2019s palate, may move the mind by\nthe delight itself that accompanies the eating, without reference to\nany other end; to which the consideration of the pleasure there is in\nhealth and strength (to which that meat is subservient) may add a new\nGUSTO, able to make us swallow an ill-relished potion. In the latter of\nthese, any action is rendered more or less pleasing, only by the\ncontemplation of the end, and the being more or less persuaded of its\ntendency to it, or necessary connexion with it: but the pleasure of the\naction itself is best acquired or increased by use and practice. Trials\noften reconcile us to that, which at a distance we looked on with\naversion; and by repetitions wear us into a liking of what possibly, in\nthe first essay, displeased us. Habits have powerful charms, and put so\nstrong attractions of easiness and pleasure into what we accustom\nourselves to, that we cannot forbear to do, or at least be easy in the\nomission of, actions, which habitual practice has suited, and thereby\nrecommends to us. Though this be very visible, and every one\u2019s\nexperience shows him he can do so; yet it is a part in the conduct of\nmen towards their happiness, neglected to a degree, that it will be\npossibly entertained as a paradox, if it be said, that men can MAKE\nthings or actions more or less pleasing to themselves; and thereby\nremedy that, to which one may justly impute a great deal of their\nwandering. Fashion and the common opinion having settled wrong notions,\nand education and custom ill habits, the just values of things are\nmisplaced, and the palates of men corrupted. Pains should be taken to\nrectify these; and contrary habits change our pleasures, and give a\nrelish to that which is necessary or conducive to our happiness. This\nevery one must confess he can do; and when happiness is lost, and\nmisery overtakes him, he will confess he did amiss in neglecting it,\nand condemn himself for it; and I ask every one, whether he has not\noften done so?\n\n72. Preference of Vice to Virtue a manifest wrong Judgment.\n\nI shall not now enlarge any further on the wrong judgments and neglect\nof what is in their power, whereby men mislead themselves. This would\nmake a volume, and is not my business. But whatever false notions, or\nshameful neglect of what is in their power, may put men out of their\nway to happiness, and distract them, as we see, into so different\ncourses of life, this yet is certain, that morality established upon\nits true foundations, cannot but determine the choice in any one that\nwill but consider: and he that will not be so far a rational creature\nas to reflect seriously upon INFINITE happiness and misery, must needs\ncondemn himself as not making that use of his understanding he should.\nThe rewards and punishments of another life which the Almighty has\nestablished, as the enforcements of his law, are of weight enough to\ndetermine the choice against whatever pleasure or pain this life can\nshow, where the eternal state is considered but in its bare possibility\nwhich nobody can make any doubt of. He that will allow exquisite and\nendless happiness to be but the possible consequence of a good life\nhere, and the contrary state the possible reward of a bad one, must own\nhimself to judge very much amiss if he does not conclude,\u2014That a\nvirtuous life, with the certain expectation of everlasting bliss, which\nmay come, is to be preferred to a vicious one, with the fear of that\ndreadful state of misery, which it is very possible may overtake the\nguilty; or, at best, the terrible uncertain hope of annihilation. This\nis evidently so, though the virtuous life here had nothing but pain,\nand the vicious continual pleasure: which yet is, for the most part,\nquite otherwise, and wicked men have not much the odds to brag of, even\nin their present possession; nay, all things rightly considered, have,\nI think, even the worse part here. But when infinite happiness is put\ninto one scale, against infinite misery in the other; if the worst that\ncomes to the pious man, if he mistakes, be the best that the wicked can\nattain to, if he be in the right, who can without madness run the\nventure? Who in his wits would choose to come within a possibility of\ninfinite misery; which if he miss, there is yet nothing to be got by\nthat hazard? Whereas, on the other side, the sober man ventures nothing\nagainst infinite happiness to be got, if his expectation comes not to\npass. If the good man be in the right, he is eternally happy; if he\nmistakes, he is not miserable, he feels nothing. On the other side, if\nthe wicked man be in the right, he is not happy; if he mistakes, he is\ninfinitely miserable. Must it not be a most manifest wrong judgment\nthat does not presently see to which side, in this case, the preference\nis to be given? I have forborne to mention anything of the certainty or\nprobability of a future state, designing here to show the wrong\njudgment that any one must allow he makes, upon his own principles,\nlaid how he pleases, who prefers the short pleasures of a vicious life\nupon any consideration, whilst he knows, and cannot but be certain,\nthat a future life is at least possible.\n\n73. Recapitulation\u2014Liberty of indifferency.\n\nTo conclude this inquiry into human liberty, which, as it stood before,\nI myself from the beginning fearing, and a very judicious friend of\nmine, since the publication, suspecting to have some mistake in it,\nthough he could not particularly show it me, I was put upon a stricter\nreview of this chapter. Wherein lighting upon a very easy and scarce\nobservable slip I had made, in putting one seemingly indifferent word\nfor another that discovery opened to me this present view, which here,\nin this second edition, I submit to the learned world, and which, in\nshort, is this: LIBERTY is a power to act or not to act, according as\nthe mind directs. A power to direct the operative faculties to motion\nor rest in particular instances is that which we call the WILL. That\nwhich in the train of our voluntary actions determines the will to any\nchange of operation is SOME PRESENT UNEASINESS, which is, or at least\nis always accompanied with that of DESIRE. Desire is always moved by\nevil, to fly it: because a total freedom from pain always makes a\nnecessary part of our happiness: but every good, nay, every greater\ngood, does not constantly move desire, because it may not make, or may\nnot be taken to make, any necessary part of our happiness. For all that\nwe desire, is only to be happy. But, though this general desire of\nhappiness operates constantly and invariably, yet the satisfaction of\nany particular desire CAN BE SUSPENDED from determining the will to any\nsubservient action, till we have maturely examined whether the\nparticular apparent good which we then desire makes a part of our real\nhappiness, or be consistent or inconsistent with it. The result of our\njudgment upon that examination is what ultimately determines the man;\nwho could not be FREE if his will were determined by anything but his\nown desire, guided by his own judgment.\n\n74. Active and passive power, in motions and in thinking.\n\nTrue notions concerning the nature and extent of LIBERTY are of so\ngreat importance, that I hope I shall be pardoned this digression,\nwhich my attempt to explain it has led me into. The ideas of will,\nvolition, liberty, and necessity, in this Chapter of Power, came\nnaturally in my way. In a former edition of this Treatise I gave an\naccount of my thoughts concerning them, according to the light I then\nhad. And now, as a lover of truth, and not a worshipper of my own\ndoctrines, I own some change of my opinion; which I think I have\ndiscovered ground for. In what I first writ, I with an unbiassed\nindifferency followed truth, whither I thought she led me. But neither\nbeing so vain as to fancy infallibility, nor so disingenuous as to\ndissemble my mistakes for fear of blemishing my reputation, I have,\nwith the same sincere design for truth only, not been ashamed to\npublish what a severer inquiry has suggested. It is not impossible but\nthat some may think my former notions right; and some (as I have\nalready found) these latter; and some neither. I shall not at all\nwonder at this variety in men\u2019s opinions: impartial deductions of\nreason in controverted points being so rare, and exact ones in abstract\nnotions not so very easy especially if of any length. And, therefore, I\nshould think myself not a little beholden to any one, who would, upon\nthese or any other grounds, fairly clear this subject of LIBERTY from\nany difficulties that may yet remain.\n\n75. Summary of our Original ideas.\n\nAnd thus I have, in a short draught, given a view of OUR ORIGINAL\nIDEAS, from whence all the rest are derived, and of which they are made\nup; which, if I would consider as a philosopher, and examine on what\ncauses they depend, and of what they are made, I believe they all might\nbe reduced to these very few primary and original ones, viz. EXTENSION,\nSOLIDITY, MOBILITY, or the power of being moved; which by our senses we\nreceive from body: PERCEPTIVITY, or the power of perception, or\nthinking; MOTIVITY, or the power of moving: which by reflection we\nreceive from OUR MINDS.\n\nI crave leave to make use of these two new words, to avoid the danger\nof being mistaken in the use of those which are equivocal.\n\nTo which if we add EXISTENCE, DURATION, NUMBER, which belong both to\nthe one and the other, we have, perhaps, all the original ideas on\nwhich the rest depend. For by these, I imagine, might be EXPLAINED the\nnature of colours, sounds, tastes, smells, and ALL OTHER IDEAS WE HAVE,\nif we had but faculties acute enough to perceive the severally modified\nextensions and motions of these minute bodies, which produce those\nseveral sensations in us. But my present purpose being only to inquire\ninto the knowledge the mind has of things, by those ideas and\nappearances which God has fitted it to receive from them, and how the\nmind comes by that knowledge; rather than into their causes or manner\nof Production, I shall not, contrary to the design of this Essay, see\nmyself to inquire philosophically into the peculiar constitution of\nBODIES, and the configuration of parts, whereby THEY have the power to\nproduce in us the ideas of their sensible qualities. I shall not enter\nany further into that disquisition; it sufficing to my purpose to\nobserve, that gold or saffron has power to produce in us the idea of\nyellow, and snow or milk the idea of white, which we can only have by\nour sight without examining the texture of the parts of those bodies or\nthe particular figures or motion of the particles which rebound from\nthem, to cause in us that particular sensation, though, when we go\nbeyond the bare ideas in our minds and would inquire into their causes,\nwe cannot conceive anything else to be in any sensible object, whereby\nit produces different ideas in us, but the different bulk, figure,\nnumber, texture, and motion of its insensible parts.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXII.\nOF MIXED MODES.\n\n\n1. Mixed Modes, what.\n\nHaving treated of SIMPLE MODES in the foregoing chapters, and given\nseveral instances of some of the most considerable of them, to show\nwhat they are, and how we come by them; we are now in the next place to\nconsider those we call MIXED MODES; such are the complex ideas we mark\nby the names OBLIGATION, DRUNKENNESS, a LIE, &c.; which consisting of\nseveral combinations of simple ideas of DIFFERENT kinds, I have called\nmixed modes, to distinguish them from the more simple modes, which\nconsist only of simple ideas of the SAME kind. These mixed modes, being\nalso such combinations of simple ideas as are not looked upon to be\ncharacteristical marks of any real beings that have a steady existence,\nbut scattered and independent ideas put together by the mind, are\nthereby distinguished from the complex ideas of substances.\n\n2. Made by the Mind.\n\nThat the mind, in respect of its simple ideas, is wholly passive, and\nreceives them all from the existence and operations of things, such as\nsensation or reflection offers them, without being able to MAKE any one\nidea, experience shows us. But if we attentively consider these ideas I\ncall mixed modes, we are now speaking of, we shall find their origin\nquite different. The mind often exercises an ACTIVE power in making\nthese several combinations. For, it being once furnished with simple\nideas, it can put them together in several compositions, and so make\nvariety of complex ideas, without examining whether they exist so\ntogether in nature. And hence I think it is that these ideas are called\nNOTIONS: as they had their original, and constant existence, more in\nthe thoughts of men, than in the reality of things; and to form such\nideas, it sufficed that the mind put the parts of them together, and\nthat they were consistent in the understanding without considering\nwhether they had any real being: though I do not deny but several of\nthem might be taken from observation, and the existence of several\nsimple ideas so combined, as they are put together in the\nunderstanding. For the man who first framed the idea of HYPOCRISY,\nmight have either taken it at first from the observation of one who\nmade show of good qualities which he had not; or else have framed that\nidea in his mind without having any such pattern to fashion it by. For\nit is evident that, in the beginning of languages and societies of men,\nseveral of those complex ideas, which were consequent to the\nconstitutions established amongst them, must needs have been in the\nminds of men before they existed anywhere else; and that many names\nthat stood for such complex ideas were in use, and so those ideas\nframed, before the combinations they stood for ever existed.\n\n3. Sometimes got by the Explication of their Names.\n\nIndeed, now that languages are made, and abound with words standing for\nsuch combinations, an usual way of GETTING these complex ideas is, by\nthe explication of those terms that stand for them. For, consisting of\na company of simple ideas combined, they may, by words standing for\nthose simple ideas, be represented to the mind of one who understands\nthose words, though that complex combination of simple ideas were never\noffered to his mind by the real existence of things. Thus a man may\ncome to have the idea of SACRILEGE or MURDER, by enumerating to him the\nsimple ideas which these words stand for; without ever seeing either of\nthem committed.\n\n4. The Name ties the Parts of mixed Modes into one Idea.\n\nEvery mixed mode consisting of many distinct simple ideas, it seems\nreasonable to inquire, Whence it has its unity; and how such a precise\nmultitude comes to make but one idea; since that combination does not\nalways exist together in nature? To which I answer, it is plain it has\nits unity from an act of the mind, combining those several simple ideas\ntogether, and considering them as one complex one, consisting of those\nparts; and the mark of this union, or that which is looked on generally\nto complete it, is one NAME given to that combination. For it is by\ntheir names that men commonly regulate their account of their distinct\nspecies of mixed modes, seldom allowing or considering any number of\nsimple ideas to make one complex one, but such collections as there be\nnames for. Thus, though the killing of an old man be as fit in nature\nto be united into one complex idea, as the killing a man\u2019s father; yet,\nthere being no name standing precisely for the one, as there is the\nname of PARRICIDE to mark the other, it is not taken for a particular\ncomplex idea, nor a distinct species of actions from that of killing a\nyoung man, or any other man.\n\n5. The Cause of making mixed Modes.\n\nIf we should inquire a little further, to see what it is that occasions\nmen to make several combinations of simple ideas into distinct, and, as\nit were, settled modes, and neglect others, which in the nature of\nthings themselves, have as much an aptness to be combined and make\ndistinct ideas, we shall find the reason of it to be the end of\nlanguage; which being to mark, or communicate men\u2019s thoughts to one\nanother with all the dispatch that may be, they usually make SUCH\ncollections of ideas into complex modes, and affix names to them, as\nthey have frequent use of in their way of living and conversation,\nleaving others which they have but seldom an occasion to mention, loose\nand without names that tie them together: they rather choosing to\nenumerate (when they have need) such ideas as make them up, by the\nparticular names that stand for them, than to trouble their memories by\nmultiplying of complex ideas with names to them, which they seldom or\nnever have any occasion to make use of.\n\n6. Why Words in one Language have none answering in another.\n\nThis shows us how it comes to pass that there are in every language\nmany particular words which cannot be rendered by any one single word\nof another. For the several fashions, customs, and manners of one\nnation, making several combinations of ideas familiar and necessary in\none, which another people have had never an occasion to make, or\nperhaps so much as take notice of, names come of course to be annexed\nto them, to avoid long periphrases in things of daily conversation; and\nso they become so many distinct complex ideas in their minds. Thus\nostrakismos amongst the Greeks, and proscriptio amongst the Romans,\nwere words which other languages had no names that exactly answered;\nbecause they stood for complex ideas which were not in the minds of the\nmen of other nations. Where there was no such custom, there was no\nnotion of any such actions; no use of such combinations of ideas as\nwere united, and, as it were, tied together, by those terms: and\ntherefore in other countries there were no names for them.\n\n7. And Languages change.\n\nHence also we may see the reason, why languages constantly change, take\nup new and lay by old terms. Because change of customs and opinions\nbringing with it new combinations of ideas, which it is necessary\nfrequently to think on and talk about, new names, to avoid long\ndescriptions, are annexed to them; and so they become new species of\ncomplex modes. What a number of different ideas are by this means\nwrapped up in one short sound, and how much of our time and breath is\nthereby saved, any one will see, who will but take the pains to\nenumerate all the ideas that either REPRIEVE or APPEAL stand for; and\ninstead of either of those names, use a periphrasis, to make any one\nunderstand their meaning.\n\n8. Mixed Modes\n\nThough I shall have occasion to consider this more at-large when I come\nto treat of Words and their use, yet I could not avoid to take thus\nmuch notice here of the NAMES OF MIXED MODES; which being fleeting and\ntransient combinations of simple ideas, which have but a short\nexistence anywhere but in the minds of men, and there too have no\nlonger any existence than whilst they are thought on, have not so much\nanywhere the appearance of a constant and lasting existence as in their\nnames: which are therefore, in this sort of ideas, very apt to be taken\nfor the ideas themselves. For, if we should inquire where the idea of a\nTRIUMPH or APOTHEOSIS exists, it is evident they could neither of them\nexist altogether anywhere in the things themselves, being actions that\nrequired time to their performance, and so could never all exist\ntogether; and as to the minds of men, where the ideas of these actions\nare supposed to be lodged, they have there too a very uncertain\nexistence: and therefore we are apt to annex them to the names that\nexcite them in us.\n\n9. How we get the Ideas of mixed Modes.\n\nThere are therefore three ways whereby we get these complex ideas of\nmixed modes:\u2014(1) By experience and OBSERVATION of things themselves:\nthus, by seeing two men mixed wrestle or fence, we get the idea of\nwrestling or fencing. (2) By INVENTION, or voluntary putting together\nof several simple ideas in our own minds: so he that first invented\nprinting or etching, had an idea of it in his mind before it ever\nexisted. (3) Which is the most usual way, by EXPLAINING THE NAMES of\nactions we never saw, or motions we cannot see; and by enumerating, and\nthereby, as it were, setting before our imaginations all those ideas\nwhich go to the making them up, and are the constituent parts of them.\nFor, having by sensation and reflection stored our minds with simple\nideas, and by use got the names that stand for them, we can by those\nmeans represent to another any complex idea we would have him conceive;\nso that it has in it no simple ideas but what he knows, and has with us\nthe same name for. For all our complex ideas are ultimately resolvable\ninto simple ideas, of which they are compounded and originally made up,\nthough perhaps their immediate ingredients, as I may so say, are also\ncomplex ideas. Thus, the mixed mode which the word LIE stands for is\nmade of these simple ideas:\u2014(1) Articulate sounds. (2) Certain ideas in\nthe mind of the speaker. (3) Those words the signs of those ideas. (4)\nThose signs put together, by affirmation or negation, otherwise than\nthe ideas they stand for are in the mind of the speaker. I think I need\nnot go any further in the analysis of that complex idea we call a lie:\nwhat I have said is enough to show that it is made up of simple ideas.\nAnd it could not be but an offensive tediousness to my reader, to\ntrouble him with a more minute enumeration of every particular simple\nidea that goes to this complex one; which, from what has been said, he\ncannot but be able to make out to himself. The same may be done in all\nour complex ideas whatsoever; which, however compounded and\ndecompounded, may at last be resolved into simple ideas, which are all\nthe materials of knowledge or thought we have, or can have. Nor shall\nwe have reason to fear that the mind is hereby stinted to too scanty a\nnumber of ideas, if we consider what an inexhaustible stock of simple\nmodes number and figure alone afford us. How far then mixed modes,\nwhich admit of the various combinations of different simple ideas, and\ntheir infinite modes, are from being few and scanty, we may easily\nimagine. So that, before we have done, we shall see that nobody need be\nafraid he shall not have scope and compass enough for his thoughts to\nrange in, though they be, as I pretend, confined only to simple ideas,\nreceived from sensation or reflection, and their several combinations.\n\n10. Motion, Thinking, and Power have been most modified.\n\nIt is worth our observing, which of all our simple ideas have been MOST\nmodified, and had most mixed ideas made out of them, with names given\nto them. And those have been these three:\u2014THINKING and MOTION (which\nare the two ideas which comprehend in them all action,) and POWER, from\nwhence these actions are conceived to flow. These simple ideas, I say,\nof thinking, motion, and power, have been those which have been most\nmodified; and out of whose modifications have been made most complex\nmodes, with names to them. For ACTION being the great business of\nmankind, and the whole matter about which all laws are conversant, it\nis no wonder that the several modes of thinking and motion should be\ntaken notice of, the ideas of them observed, and laid up in the memory,\nand have names assigned to them; without which laws could be but ill\nmade, or vice and disorders repressed. Nor could any communication be\nwell had amongst men without such complex ideas, with names to them:\nand therefore men have settled names, and supposed settled ideas in\ntheir minds, of modes of actions, distinguished by their causes, means,\nobjects, ends, instruments, time, place, and other circumstances; and\nalso of their powers fitted for those actions: v.g. BOLDNESS is the\npower to speak or do what we intend, before others, without fear or\ndisorder; and the Greeks call the confidence of speaking by a peculiar\nname, [word in Greek]: which power or ability in man of doing anything,\nwhen it has been acquired by frequent doing the same thing, is that\nidea we name HABIT; when it is forward, and ready upon every occasion\nto break into action, we call it DISPOSITION. Thus, TESTINESS is a\ndisposition or aptness to be angry.\n\nTo conclude: Let us examine any modes of action, v.g. CONSIDERATION and\nASSENT, which are actions of the mind; RUNNING and SPEAKING, which are\nactions of the body; REVENGE and MURDER, which are actions of both\ntogether, and we shall find them but so many collections of simple\nideas, which, together, make up the complex ones signified by those\nnames.\n\n11. Several Words seeming to signify Action, signify but the effect.\n\nPOWER being the source from whence all action proceeds, the substances\nwherein these powers are, when they *[lost line??] exert this power\ninto act, are called CAUSES, and the substances which thereupon are\nproduced, or the simple ideas which are introduced into any subject by\nthe exerting of that power, are called EFFECTS. The EFFICACY whereby\nthe new substance or idea is produced is called, in the subject\nexerting that power, ACTION; but in the subject wherein any simple idea\nis changed or produced, it is called PASSION: which efficacy, however\nvarious, and the effects almost infinite, yet we can, I think, conceive\nit, in intellectual agents, to be nothing else but modes of thinking\nand willing; in corporeal agents, nothing else but modifications of\nmotion. I say I think we cannot conceive it to be any other but these\ntwo. For whatever sort of action besides these produces any effects, I\nconfess myself to have no notion nor idea of; and so it is quite remote\nfrom my thoughts, apprehensions, and knowledge; and as much in the dark\nto me as five other senses, or as the ideas of colours to a blind man.\nAnd therefore many words which seem to express some action, signify\nnothing of the action or MODUS OPERANDI at all, but barely the effect,\nwith some circumstances of the subject wrought on, or cause operating:\nv.g. CREATION, ANNIHILATION, contain in them no idea of the action or\nmanner whereby they are produced, but barely of the cause, and the\nthing done. And when a countryman says the cold freezes water, though\nthe word freezing seems to import some action, yet truly it signifies\nnothing but the effect, viz. that water that was before fluid is become\nhard and consistent, without containing any idea of the action whereby\nit is done.\n\n12. Mixed Modes made also of other Ideas than those of Power and\nAction.\n\nI think I shall not need to remark here that, though power and action\nmake the greatest part of mixed modes, marked by names, and familiar in\nthe minds and mouths of men, yet other simple ideas, and their several\ncombinations, are not excluded: much less, I think, will it be\nnecessary for me to enumerate all the mixed modes which have been\nsettled, with names to them. That would be to make a dictionary of the\ngreatest part of the words made use of in divinity, ethics, law, and\npolitics, and several other sciences. All that is requisite to my\npresent design, is to show what sort of ideas those are which I call\nmixed modes; how the mind comes by them; and that they are compositions\nmade up of simple ideas got from sensation and reflection; which I\nsuppose I have done.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIII.\nOF OUR COMPLEX IDEAS OF SUBSTANCES.\n\n\nThe mind being, as I have declared, furnished with a great number of\nthe simple ideas, conveyed in by the senses as they are found in\nexterior things, or by reflection on its own operations, takes notice\nalso that a certain number of these simple ideas go constantly\ntogether; which being presumed to belong to one thing, and words being\nsuited to common apprehensions, and made use of for quick dispatch are\ncalled, so united in one subject, by one name; which, by inadvertency,\nwe are apt afterward to talk of and consider as one simple idea, which\nindeed is a complication of many ideas together: because, as I have\nsaid, not imagining how these simple ideas CAN subsist by themselves,\nwe accustom ourselves to suppose some SUBSTRATUM wherein they do\nsubsist, and from which they do result, which therefore we call\nSUBSTANCE.\n\n2. Our obscure Idea of Substance in general.\n\nSo that if any one will examine himself concerning his notion of pure\nsubstance in general, he will find he has no other idea of it at all,\nbut only a supposition of he knows not what SUPPORT of such qualities\nwhich are capable of producing simple ideas in us; which qualities are\ncommonly called accidents. If any one should be asked, what is the\nsubject wherein colour or weight inheres, he would have nothing to say,\nbut the solid extended parts; and if he were demanded, what is it that\nsolidity and extension adhere in, he would not be in a much better case\nthan the Indian before mentioned who, saying that the world was\nsupported by a great elephant, was asked what the elephant rested on;\nto which his answer was\u2014a great tortoise: but being again pressed to\nknow what gave support to the broad-backed tortoise, replied\u2014SOMETHING,\nHE KNEW NOT WHAT. And thus here, as in all other cases where we use\nwords without having clear and distinct ideas, we talk like children:\nwho, being questioned what such a thing is, which they know not,\nreadily give this satisfactory answer, that it is SOMETHING: which in\ntruth signifies no more, when so used, either by children or men, but\nthat they know not what; and that the thing they pretend to know, and\ntalk of, is what they have no distinct idea of at all, and so are\nperfectly ignorant of it, and in the dark. The idea then we have, to\nwhich we give the GENERAL name substance, being nothing but the\nsupposed, but unknown, support of those qualities we find existing,\nwhich we imagine cannot subsist SINE RE SUBSTANTE, without something to\nsupport them, we call that support SUBSTANTIA; which, according to the\ntrue import of the word, is, in plain English, standing under or\nupholding.\n\n3. Of the Sorts of Substances.\n\nAn obscure and relative idea of SUBSTANCE IN GENERAL being thus made we\ncome to have the ideas of PARTICULAR SORTS OF SUBSTANCES, by collecting\nSUCH combinations of simple ideas as are, by experience and observation\nof men\u2019s senses, taken notice of to exist together; and are therefore\nsupposed to flow from the particular internal constitution, or unknown\nessence of that substance. Thus we come to have the ideas of a man,\nhorse, gold, water, &c.; of which substances, whether any one has any\nother CLEAR idea, further than of certain simple ideas co-existent\ntogether, I appeal to every one\u2019s own experience. It is the ordinary\nqualities observable in iron, or a diamond, put together, that make the\ntrue complex idea of those substances, which a smith or a jeweller\ncommonly knows better than a philosopher; who, whatever SUBSTANTIAL\nFORMS he may talk of, has no other idea of those substances, than what\nis framed by a collection of those simple ideas which are to be found\nin them: only we must take notice, that our complex ideas of\nsubstances, besides all those simple ideas they are made up of, have\nalways the confused idea of something to which they belong, and in\nwhich they subsist: and therefore when we speak of any sort of\nsubstance, we say it is a thing having such or such qualities; as body\nis a thing that is extended, figured, and capable of motion; spirit, a\nthing capable of thinking; and so hardness, friability, and power to\ndraw iron, we say, are qualities to be found in a loadstone. These, and\nthe like fashions of speaking, intimate that the substance is supposed\nalways SOMETHING BESIDES the extension, figure, solidity, motion,\nthinking, or other observable ideas, though we know not what it is.\n\n4. No clear or distinct idea of Substance in general.\n\nHence, when we talk or think of any particular sort of corporeal\nsubstances, as horse, stone, &c., though the idea we have of either of\nthem be but the complication or collection of those several simple\nideas of sensible qualities, which we used to find united in the thing\ncalled horse or stone; yet, BECAUSE WE CANNOT CONCEIVE HOW THEY SHOULD\nSUBSIST ALONE, NOR ONE IN ANOTHER, we suppose them existing in and\nsupported by some common subject; which support we denote by the name\nsubstance, though it be certain we have no clear or distinct idea of\nthat thing we suppose a support.\n\n5. As clear an Idea of spiritual substance as of corporeal substance.\n\nThe same happens concerning the operations of the mind, viz. thinking,\nreasoning, fearing, &c., which we concluding not to subsist of\nthemselves, nor apprehending how they can belong to body, or be\nproduced by it, we are apt to think these the actions of some other\nSUBSTANCE, which we call SPIRIT; whereby yet it is evident that, having\nno other idea or notion of matter, but something wherein those many\nsensible qualities which affect our senses do subsist; by supposing a\nsubstance wherein thinking, knowing, doubting, and a power of moving,\n&c., do subsist, we have as clear a notion of the substance of spirit,\nas we have of body; the one being supposed to be (without knowing what\nit is) the SUBSTRATUM to those simple ideas we have from without; and\nthe other supposed (with a like ignorance of what it is) to be the\nSUBSTRATUM to those operations we experiment in ourselves within. It is\nplain then, that the idea of CORPOREAL SUBSTANCE in matter is as remote\nfrom our conceptions and apprehensions, as that of SPIRITUAL SUBSTANCE,\nor spirit: and therefore, from our not having any notion of the\nsubstance of spirit, we can no more conclude its non-existence, than we\ncan, for the same reason, deny the existence of body; it being as\nrational to affirm there is no body, because we have no clear and\ndistinct idea of the substance of matter, as to say there is no spirit,\nbecause we have no clear and distinct idea of the substance of a\nspirit.\n\n6. Our ideas of particular Sorts of Substances.\n\nWhatever therefore be the secret abstract nature of substance in\ngeneral, all the ideas we have of particular distinct sorts of\nsubstances are nothing but several combinations of simple ideas,\nco-existing in such, though unknown, cause of their union, as makes the\nwhole subsist of itself. It is by such combinations of simple ideas,\nand nothing else, that we represent particular sorts of substances to\nourselves; such are the ideas we have of their several species in our\nminds; and such only do we, by their specific names, signify to others,\nv.g. man, horse, sun, water, iron: upon hearing which words, every one\nwho understands the language, frames in his mind a combination of those\nseveral simple ideas which he has usually observed, or fancied to exist\ntogether under that denomination; all which he supposes to rest in and\nbe, as it were, adherent to that unknown common subject, which inheres\nnot in anything else. Though, in the meantime, it be manifest, and\nevery one, upon inquiry into his own thoughts, will find, that he has\nno other idea of any substance, v.g. let it be gold, horse, iron, man,\nvitriol, bread, but what he has barely of those sensible qualities,\nwhich he supposes to inhere; with a supposition of such a substratum as\ngives, as it were, a support to those qualities or simple ideas, which\nhe has observed to exist united together. Thus, the idea of the\nsun,\u2014what is it but an aggregate of those several simple ideas, bright,\nhot, roundish, having a constant regular motion, at a certain distance\nfrom us, and perhaps some other: as he who thinks and discourses of the\nsun has been more or less accurate in observing those sensible\nqualities, ideas, or properties, which are in that thing which he calls\nthe sun.\n\n7. Their active and passive Powers a great part of our complex Ideas of\nSubstances.\n\nFor he has the perfectest idea of any of the particular sorts of\nsubstances, who has gathered, and put together, most of those simple\nideas which do exist in it; among which are to be reckoned its active\npowers, and passive capacities, which, though not simple ideas, yet in\nthis respect, for brevity\u2019s sake, may conveniently enough be reckoned\namongst them. Thus, the power of drawing iron is one of the ideas of\nthe complex one of that substance we call a loadstone; and a power to\nbe so drawn is a part of the complex one we call iron: which powers\npass for inherent qualities in those subjects. Because every substance,\nbeing as apt, by the powers we observe in it, to change some sensible\nqualities in other subjects, as it is to produce in us those simple\nideas which we receive immediately from it, does, by those new sensible\nqualities introduced into other subjects, discover to us those powers\nwhich do thereby mediately affect our senses, as regularly as its\nsensible qualities do it immediately: v. g. we immediately by our\nsenses perceive in fire its heat and colour; which are, if rightly\nconsidered, nothing but powers in it to produce those ideas in US: we\nalso by our senses perceive the colour and brittleness of charcoal,\nwhereby we come by the knowledge of another power in fire, which it has\nto change the colour and consistency of WOOD. By the former, fire\nimmediately, by the latter, it mediately discovers to us these several\npowers; which therefore we look upon to be a part of the qualities of\nfire, and so make them a part of the complex idea of it. For all those\npowers that we take cognizance of, terminating only in the alteration\nof some sensible qualities in those subjects on which they operate, and\nso making them exhibit to us new sensible ideas, therefore it is that I\nhave reckoned these powers amongst the simple ideas which make the\ncomplex ones of the sorts of substances; though these powers considered\nin themselves, are truly complex ideas. And in this looser sense I\ncrave leave to be understood, when I name any of these POTENTIALITIES\namong the simple ideas which we recollect in our minds when we think of\nPARTICULAR SUBSTANCES. For the powers that are severally in them are\nnecessary to be considered, if we will have true distinct notions of\nthe several sorts of substances.\n\n8. And why.\n\nNor are we to wonder that powers make a great part of our complex ideas\nof substances; since their secondary qualities are those which in most\nof them serve principally to distinguish substances one from another,\nand commonly make a considerable part of the complex idea of the\nseveral sorts of them. For, our senses failing us in the discovery of\nthe bulk, texture, and figure of the minute parts of bodies, on which\ntheir real constitutions and differences depend, we are fain to make\nuse of their secondary qualities as the characteristical notes and\nmarks whereby to frame ideas of them in our minds, and distinguish them\none from another: all which secondary qualities, as has been shown, are\nnothing but bare powers. For the colour and taste of opium are, as well\nas its soporific or anodyne virtues, mere powers, depending on its\nprimary qualities, whereby it is fitted to produce different operations\non different parts of our bodies.\n\n9. Three sorts of Ideas make our complex ones of Corporeal Substances.\n\nThe ideas that make our complex ones of corporeal substances, are of\nthese three sorts. First, the ideas of the primary qualities of things,\nwhich are discovered by our senses, and are in them even when we\nperceive them not; such are the bulk, figure, number, situation, and\nmotion of the parts of bodies; which are really in them, whether we\ntake notice of them or not. Secondly, the sensible secondary qualities,\nwhich, depending on these, are nothing but the powers those substances\nhave to produce several ideas in us by our senses; which ideas are not\nin the things themselves, otherwise than as anything is in its cause.\nThirdly, the aptness we consider in any substance, to give or receive\nsuch alterations of primary qualities, as that the substance so altered\nshould produce in us different ideas from what it did before; these are\ncalled active and passive powers: all which powers, as far as we have\nany notice or notion of them, terminate only in sensible simple ideas.\nFor whatever alteration a loadstone has the power to make in the minute\nparticles of iron, we should have no notion of any power it had at all\nto operate on iron, did not its sensible motion discover it: and I\ndoubt not, but there are a thousand changes, that bodies we daily\nhandle have a power to cause in one another, which we never suspect,\nbecause they never appear in sensible effects.\n\n10. Powers thus make a great Part of our complex Ideas of particular\nSubstances.\n\nPOWERS therefore justly make a great part of our complex ideas of\nsubstances. He that will examine his complex idea of gold, will find\nseveral of its ideas that make it up to be only powers; as the power of\nbeing melted, but of not spending itself in the fire; of being\ndissolved in AQUA REGIA, are ideas as necessary to make up our complex\nidea of gold, as its colour and weight: which, if duly considered, are\nalso nothing but different powers. For, to speak truly, yellowness is\nnot actually in gold, but is a power in gold to produce that idea in us\nby our eyes, when placed in a due light: and the heat, which we cannot\nleave out of our ideas of the sun, is no more really in the sun, than\nthe white colour it introduces into wax. These are both equally powers\nin the sun, operating, by the motion and figure of its sensible parts,\nso on a man, as to make him have the idea of heat; and so on wax, as to\nmake it capable to produce in a man the idea of white.\n\n11. The now secondary Qualities of Bodies would disappear, if we could\ndiscover the primary ones of their minute Parts.\n\nHad we senses acute enough to discern the minute particles of bodies,\nand the real constitution on which their sensible qualities depend, I\ndoubt not but they would produce quite different ideas in us: and that\nwhich is now the yellow colour of gold, would then disappear, and\ninstead of it we should see an admirable texture of parts, of a certain\nsize and figure. This microscopes plainly discover to us; for what to\nour naked eyes produces a certain colour, is, by thus augmenting the\nacuteness of our senses, discovered to be quite a different thing; and\nthe thus altering, as it were, the proportion of the bulk of the minute\nparts of a coloured object to our usual sight, produces different ideas\nfrom what it did before. Thus, sand or pounded glass, which is opaque,\nand white to the naked eye, is pellucid in a microscope; and a hair\nseen in this way, loses its former colour, and is, in a great measure,\npellucid, with a mixture of some bright sparkling colours, such as\nappear from the refraction of diamonds, and other pellucid bodies.\nBlood, to the naked eye, appears all red; but by a good microscope,\nwherein its lesser parts appear, shows only some few globules of red,\nswimming in a pellucid liquor, and how these red globules would appear,\nif glasses could be found that could yet magnify them a thousand or ten\nthousand times more, is uncertain.\n\n12. Our Faculties for Discovery of the Qualities and powers of\nSubstances suited to our State.\n\nThe infinite wise Contriver of us, and all things about us, hath fitted\nour senses, faculties, and organs, to the conveniences of life, and the\nbusiness we have to do here. We are able, by our senses, to know and\ndistinguish things: and to examine them so far as to apply them to our\nuses, and several ways to accommodate the exigences of this life. We\nhave insight enough into their admirable contrivances and wonderful\neffects, to admire and magnify the wisdom, power and goodness of their\nAuthor. Such a knowledge as this which is suited to our present\ncondition, we want not faculties to attain. But it appears not that God\nintended we should have a perfect, clear, and adequate knowledge of\nthem: that perhaps is not in the comprehension of any finite being. We\nare furnished with faculties (dull and weak as they are) to discover\nenough in the creatures to lead us to the knowledge of the Creator, and\nthe knowledge of our duty; and we are fitted well enough with abilities\nto provide for the conveniences of living: these are our business in\nthis world. But were our senses altered, and made much quicker and\nacuter, the appearance and outward scheme of things would have quite\nanother face to us; and, I am apt to think, would be inconsistent with\nour being, or at least wellbeing, in the part of the universe which we\ninhabit. He that considers how little our constitution is able to bear\na remove into part of this air, not much higher than that we commonly\nbreathe in, will have reason to be satisfied, that in this globe of\nearth allotted for our mansion, the all-wise Architect has suited our\norgans, and the bodies that are to affect them, one to another. If our\nsense of hearing were but a thousand times quicker than it is, how\nwould a perpetual noise distract us. And we should in the quietest\nretirement be less able to sleep or meditate than in the middle of a\nsea-fight. Nay, if that most instructive of our senses, seeing, were in\nany man a thousand or a hundred thousand times more acute than it is by\nthe best microscope, things several millions of times less than the\nsmallest object of his sight now would then be visible to his naked\neyes, and so he would come nearer to the discovery of the texture and\nmotion of the minute parts of corporeal things; and in many of them,\nprobably get ideas of their internal constitutions: but then he would\nbe in a quite different world from other people: nothing would appear\nthe same to him and others: the visible ideas of everything would be\ndifferent. So that I doubt, whether he and the rest of men could\ndiscourse concerning the objects of sight, or have any communication\nabout colours, their appearances being so wholly different. And perhaps\nsuch a quickness and tenderness of sight could not endure bright\nsunshine, or so much as open daylight; nor take in but a very small\npart of any object at once, and that too only at a very near distance.\nAnd if by the help of such MICROSCOPICAL EYES (if I may so call them) a\nman could penetrate further than ordinary into the secret composition\nand radical texture of bodies, he would not make any great advantage by\nthe change, if such an acute sight would not serve to conduct him to\nthe market and exchange; if he could not see things he was to avoid, at\na convenient distance; nor distinguish things he had to do with by\nthose sensible qualities others do. He that was sharp-sighted enough to\nsee the configuration of the minute particles of the spring of a clock,\nand observe upon what peculiar structure and impulse its elastic motion\ndepends, would no doubt discover something very admirable: but if eyes\nso framed could not view at once the hand, and the characters of the\nhour-plate, and thereby at a distance see what o\u2019clock it was, their\nowner could not be much benefited by that acuteness; which, whilst it\ndiscovered the secret contrivance of the parts of the machine, made him\nlose its use.\n\n13. Conjecture about the corporeal organs of some Spirits.\n\nAnd here give me leave to propose an extravagant conjecture of mine,\nviz. That since we have some reason (if there be any credit to be given\nto the report of things that our philosophy cannot account for) to\nimagine, that Spirits can assume to themselves bodies of different\nbulk, figure, and conformation of parts\u2014whether one great advantage\nsome of them have over us may not lie in this, that they can so frame\nand shape to themselves organs of sensation or perception, as to suit\nthem to their present design, and the circumstances of the object they\nwould consider. For how much would that man exceed all others in\nknowledge, who had but the faculty so to alter the structure of his\neyes, that one sense, as to make it capable of all the several degrees\nof vision which the assistance of glasses (casually at first lighted\non) has taught us to conceive? What wonders would he discover, who\ncould so fit his eyes to all sorts of objects, as to see when he\npleased the figure and motion of the minute particles in the blood, and\nother juices of animals, as distinctly as he does, at other times, the\nshape and motion of the animals themselves? But to us, in our present\nstate, unalterable organs, so contrived as to discover the figure and\nmotion of the minute parts of bodies, whereon depend those sensible\nqualities we now observe in them, would perhaps be of no advantage. God\nhas no doubt made them so as is best for us in our present condition.\nHe hath fitted us for the neighbourhood of the bodies that surround us,\nand we have to do with; and though we cannot, by the faculties we have,\nattain to a perfect knowledge of things, yet they will serve us well\nenough for those ends above-mentioned, which are our great concernment.\nI beg my reader\u2019s pardon for laying before him so wild a fancy\nconcerning the ways of perception of beings above us; but how\nextravagant soever it be, I doubt whether we can imagine anything about\nthe knowledge of angels but after this manner, some way or other in\nproportion to what we find and observe in ourselves. And though we\ncannot but allow that the infinite power and wisdom of God may frame\ncreatures with a thousand other faculties and ways of perceiving things\nwithout them than what we have, yet our thoughts can go no further than\nour own: so impossible it is for us to enlarge our very guesses beyond\nthe ideas received from our own sensation and reflection. The\nsupposition, at least, that angels do sometimes assume bodies, needs\nnot startle us; since some of the most ancient and most learned Fathers\nof the church seemed to believe that they had bodies: and this is\ncertain, that their state and way of existence is unknown to us.\n\n14. Our specific Ideas of Substances.\n\nBut to return to the matter in hand,\u2014the ideas we have of substances,\nand the ways we come by them. I say, our SPECIFIC ideas of substances\nare nothing else but A COLLECTION OF CERTAIN NUMBER OF SIMPLE IDEAS,\nCONSIDERED AS UNITED IN ONE THING. These ideas of substances, though\nthey are commonly simple apprehensions, and the names of them simple\nterms, yet in effect are complex and compounded. Thus the idea which an\nEnglishman signifies by the name swan, is white colour, long neck, red\nbeak, black legs, and whole feet, and all these of a certain size, with\na power of swimming in the water, and making a certain kind of noise,\nand perhaps, to a man who has long observed this kind of birds, some\nother properties: which all terminate in sensible simple ideas, all\nunited in one common subject.\n\n15. Our Ideas of spiritual Substances, as clear as of bodily\nSubstances.\n\nBesides the complex ideas we have of material sensible substances, of\nwhich I have last spoken,\u2014by the simple ideas we have taken from those\noperations of our own minds, which we experiment daily in ourselves, as\nthinking, understanding, willing, knowing, and power of beginning\nmotion, &c., co-existing in some substance, we are able to frame the\nCOMPLEX IDEA OF AN IMMATERIAL SPIRIT. And thus, by putting together the\nideas of thinking, perceiving, liberty, and power of moving themselves\nand other things, we have as clear a perception and notion of\nimmaterial substances as we have of material. For putting together the\nideas of thinking and willing, or the power of moving or quieting\ncorporeal motion, joined to substance, of which we have no distinct\nidea, we have the idea of an immaterial spirit; and by putting together\nthe ideas of coherent solid parts, and a power of being moved joined\nwith substance, of which likewise we have no positive idea, we have the\nidea of matter. The one is as clear and distinct an idea as the other:\nthe idea of thinking, and moving a body, being as clear and distinct\nideas as the ideas of extension, solidity, and being moved. For our\nidea of substance is equally obscure, or none at all, in both: it is\nbut a supposed I know not what, to support those ideas we call\naccidents. It is for want of reflection that we are apt to think that\nour senses show us nothing but material things. Every act of sensation,\nwhen duly considered, gives us an equal view of both parts of nature,\nthe corporeal and spiritual. For whilst I know, by seeing or hearing,\n&c., that there is some corporeal being without me, the object of that\nsensation, I do more certainly know, that there is some spiritual being\nwithin me that sees and hears. This, I must be convinced, cannot be the\naction of bare insensible matter; nor ever could be, without an\nimmaterial thinking being.\n\n16. No Idea of abstract Substance either in Body or Spirit.\n\nBy the complex idea of extended, figured, coloured, and all other\nsensible qualities, which is all that we know of it, we are as far from\nthe idea of the substance of body, as if we knew nothing at all: nor\nafter all the acquaintance and familiarity which we imagine we have\nwith matter, and the many qualities men assure themselves they perceive\nand know in bodies, will it perhaps upon examination be found, that\nthey have any more or clearer primary ideas belonging to body, than\nthey have belonging to immaterial spirit.\n\n17. Cohesion of solid parts and Impulse, the primary ideas peculiar to\nBody.\n\nThe primary ideas we have PECULIAR TO BODY, as contradistinguished to\nspirit, are the COHESION OF SOLID, AND CONSEQUENTLY SEPARABLE, PARTS,\nand a POWER OF COMMUNICATING MOTION BY IMPULSE. These, I think, are the\noriginal ideas proper and peculiar to body; for figure is but the\nconsequence of finite extension.\n\n18. Thinking and Motivity\n\nThe ideas we have belonging and PECULIAR TO SPIRIT, are THINKING, and\nWILL, or A POWER OF PUTTING BODY INTO MOTION BY THOUGHT, AND, WHICH IS\nCONSEQUENT TO IT, LIBERTY. For, as body cannot but communicate its\nmotion by impulse to another body, which it meets with at rest, so the\nmind can put bodies into motion, or forbear to do so, as it pleases.\nThe ideas of EXISTENCE, DURATION, and MOBILITY, are common to them\nboth.\n\n19. Spirits capable of Motion.\n\nThere is no reason why it should be thought strange that I make\nmobility belong to spirit; for having no other idea of motion, but\nchange of distance with other beings that are considered as at rest;\nand finding that spirits, as well as bodies, cannot operate but where\nthey are; and that spirits do operate at several times in several\nplaces, I cannot but attribute change of place to all finite spirits:\n(for of the Infinite Spirit I speak not here). For my soul, being a\nreal being as well as my body, is certainly as capable of changing\ndistance with any other body, or being, as body itself; and so is\ncapable of motion. And if a mathematician can consider a certain\ndistance, or a change of that distance between two points, one may\ncertainly conceive a distance and a change of distance, between two\nspirits; and so conceive their motion, their approach or removal, one\nfrom another.\n\n20. Proof of this.\n\nEvery one finds in himself that his soul can think, will, and operate\non his body in the place where that is, but cannot operate on a body,\nor in a place, an hundred miles distant from it. Nobody can imagine\nthat his soul can think or move a body at Oxford, whilst he is at\nLondon; and cannot but know, that, being united to his body, it\nconstantly changes place all the whole journey between Oxford and\nLondon, as the coach or horse does that carries him, and I think may be\nsaid to be truly all that while in motion or if that will not be\nallowed to afford us a clear idea enough of its motion, its being\nseparated from the body in death, I think, will; for to consider it as\ngoing out of the body, or leaving it, and yet to have no idea of its\nmotion, seems to me impossible.\n\n21. God immoveable because infinite.\n\nIf it be said by any one that it cannot change place, because it hath\nnone, for the spirits are not IN LOCO, but UBI; I suppose that way of\ntalking will not now be of much weight to many, in an age that is not\nmuch disposed to admire, or suffer themselves to be deceived by such\nunintelligible ways of speaking. But if any one thinks there is any\nsense in that distinction, and that it is applicable to our present\npurpose, I desire him to put it into intelligible English; and then\nfrom thence draw a reason to show that immaterial spirits are not\ncapable of motion. Indeed motion cannot be attributed to God; not\nbecause he is an immaterial, but because he is an infinite spirit.\n\n22. Our complex idea of an immaterial Spirit and our complex idea of\nBody compared.\n\nLet us compare, then, our complex idea of an immaterial spirit with our\ncomplex idea of body, and see whether there be any more obscurity in\none than in the other, and in which most. Our idea of BODY, as I think,\nis AN EXTENDED SOLID SUBSTANCE, CAPABLE OF COMMUNICATING MOTION BY\nIMPULSE: and our idea of SOUL, AS AN IMMATERIAL SPIRIT, is of A\nSUBSTANCE THAT THINKS, AND HAS A POWER OF EXCITING MOTION IN BODY, BY\nWILLING, OR THOUGHT. These, I think, are our complex ideas of soul and\nbody, as contradistinguished; and now let us examine which has most\nobscurity in it, and difficulty to be apprehended. I know that people\nwhose thoughts are immersed in matter, and have so subjected their\nminds to their senses that they seldom reflect on anything beyond them,\nare apt to say, they cannot comprehend a THINKING thing which perhaps\nis true: but I affirm, when they consider it well, they can no more\ncomprehend an EXTENDED thing.\n\n23. Cohesion of solid Parts in Body as hard to be conceived as thinking\nin a Soul.\n\nIf any one says he knows not what it is thinks in him, he means he\nknows not what the substance is of that thinking thing: No more, say I,\nknows he what the substance is of that solid thing. Further, if he says\nhe knows not how he thinks, I answer, Neither knows he how he is\nextended, how the solid parts of body are united or cohere together to\nmake extension. For though the pressure of the particles of air may\naccount for the cohesion of several parts of matter that are grosser\nthan the particles of air, and have pores less than the corpuscles of\nair, yet the weight or pressure of the air will not explain, nor can be\na cause of the coherence of the particles of air themselves. And if the\npressure of the aether, or any subtiler matter than the air, may unite,\nand hold fast together, the parts of a particle of air, as well as\nother bodies, yet it cannot make bonds for ITSELF, and hold together\nthe parts that make up every the least corpuscle of that MATERIA\nSUBTILIS. So that that hypothesis, how ingeniously soever explained, by\nshowing that the parts of sensible bodies are held together by the\npressure of other external insensible bodies, reaches not the parts of\nthe aether itself; and by how much the more evident it proves, that the\nparts of other bodies are held together by the external pressure of the\naether, and can have no other conceivable cause of their cohesion and\nunion, by so much the more it leaves us in the dark concerning the\ncohesion of the parts of the corpuscles of the aether itself: which we\ncan neither conceive without parts, they being bodies, and divisible,\nnor yet how their parts cohere, they wanting that cause of cohesion\nwhich is given of the cohesion of the parts of all other bodies.\n\n24. Not explained by an ambient fluid.\n\nBut, in truth, the pressure of any ambient fluid, how great soever, can\nbe no intelligible cause of the cohesion of the solid parts of matter.\nFor, though such a pressure may hinder the avulsion of two polished\nsuperficies, one from another, in a line perpendicular to them, as in\nthe experiment of two polished marbles; yet it can never in the least\nhinder the separation by a motion, in a line parallel to those\nsurfaces. Because the ambient fluid, having a full liberty to succeed\nin each point of space, deserted by a lateral motion, resists such a\nmotion of bodies, so joined, no more than it would resist the motion of\nthat body were it on all sides environed by that fluid, and touched no\nother body; and therefore, if there were no other cause of cohesion,\nall parts of bodies must be easily separable by such a lateral sliding\nmotion. For if the pressure of the aether be the adequate cause of\ncohesion, wherever that cause operates not, there can be no cohesion.\nAnd since it cannot operate against a lateral separation, (as has been\nshown,) therefore in every imaginary plane, intersecting any mass of\nmatter, there could be no more cohesion than of two polished surfaces,\nwhich will always, notwithstanding any imaginable pressure of a fluid,\neasily slide one from another. So that perhaps, how clear an idea\nsoever we think we have of the extension of body, which is nothing but\nthe cohesion of solid parts, he that shall well consider it in his\nmind, may have reason to conclude, That it is as easy for him to have a\nclear idea how the soul thinks as how body is extended. For, since body\nis no further, nor otherwise, extended, than by the union and cohesion\nof its solid parts, we shall very ill comprehend the extension of body,\nwithout understanding wherein consists the union and cohesion of its\nparts; which seems to me as incomprehensible as the manner of thinking,\nand how it is performed.\n\nWe can as little understand how the parts cohere in extension as how\nour spirits perceive or move.\n\n25. I allow it is usual for most people to wonder how any one should\nfind a difficulty in what they think they every day observe. Do we not\nsee (will they be ready to say) the parts of bodies stick firmly\ntogether? Is there anything more common? And what doubt can there be\nmade of it? And the like, I say, concerning thinking and voluntary\nmotion. Do we not every moment experiment it in ourselves, and\ntherefore can it be doubted? The matter of fact is clear, I confess;\nbut when we would a little nearer look into it, both in the one and the\nother; and can as little understand how the parts of body cohere, as\nhow we ourselves perceive or move. I would have any one intelligibly\nexplain to me how the parts of gold, or brass, (that but now in fusion\nwere as loose from one another as the particles of water, or the sands\nof an hour-glass,) come in a few moments to be so united, and adhere so\nstrongly one to another, that the utmost force of men\u2019s arms cannot\nseparate them? A considering man will, I suppose, be here at a loss to\nsatisfy his own, or another man\u2019s understanding.\n\n26. The cause of coherence of atoms in extended substances\nincomprehensible.\n\nThe little bodies that compose that fluid we call water are so\nextremely small, that I have never heard of any one who, by a\nmicroscope, (and yet I have heard of some that have magnified to ten\nthousand; nay, to much above a hundred thousand times,) pretended to\nperceive their distinct bulk, figure, or motion; and the particles of\nwater are also so perfectly loose one from another, that the least\nforce sensibly separates them. Nay, if we consider their perpetual\nmotion, we must allow them to have no cohesion one with another; and\nyet let but a sharp cold come, and they unite, they consolidate; these\nlittle atoms cohere, and are not, without great force, separable. He\nthat could find the bonds that tie these heaps of loose little bodies\ntogether so firmly; he that could make known the cement that makes them\nstick so fast one to another, would discover a great and yet unknown\nsecret: and yet when that was done, would he be far enough from making\nthe extension of body (which is the cohesion of its solid parts)\nintelligible, till he could show wherein consisted the union, or\nconsolidation of the parts of those bonds or of that cement, or of the\nleast particle of matter that exists. Whereby it appears that this\nprimary and supposed obvious quality of body will be found, when\nexamined, to be as incomprehensible as anything belonging to our minds,\nand a solid extended substance as hard to be conceived as a thinking\nimmaterial one, whatever difficulties some would raise against it.\n\n27. The supposed pressure [*dropped word] explain cohesion is\nunintelligible.\n\nFor, to extend our thoughts a little further, the pressure which is\nbrought to explain the cohesion of bodies [*dropped line] considered,\nas no doubt it is, finite, let any one send his contemplation to the\nextremities of the universe, and there see what conceivable hoops, what\nbond he can imagine to hold this mass of matter in so close a pressure\ntogether; from whence steel has its firmness, and the parts of a\ndiamond their hardness and indissolubility. If matter be finite, it\nmust have its extremes; and there must be something to hinder it from\nscattering asunder. If, to avoid this difficulty, any one will throw\nhimself into the supposition and abyss of infinite matter, let him\nconsider what light he thereby brings to the cohesion of body, and\nwhether he be ever the nearer making it intelligible, by resolving it\ninto a supposition the most absurd and most incomprehensible of all\nother: so far is our extension of body (which is nothing but the\ncohesion of solid parts) from being clearer, or more distinct, when we\nwould inquire into the nature, cause, or manner of it, than the idea of\nthinking.\n\n28. Communication of Motion by Impulse, or by Thought, equally\nunintelligible.\n\nAnother idea we have of body is, THE POWER OF COMMUNICATION OF MOTION\nBY IMPULSE; and of our souls, THE POWER OF EXCITING MOTION BY THOUGHT.\nThese ideas, the one of body, the other of our minds, every day\u2019s\nexperience clearly furnishes us with: but if here again we inquire how\nthis is done, we are equally in the dark. For, in the communication of\nmotion by impulse, wherein as much motion is lost to one body as is got\nto the other, which is the ordinariest case, we can have no other\nconception, but of the passing of motion out of one body into another;\nwhich, I think, is as obscure and inconceivable as how our minds move\nor stop our bodies by thought, which we every moment find they do. The\nincrease of motion by impulse, which is observed or believed sometimes\nto happen, is yet harder to be understood. We have by daily experience\nclear evidence of motion produced both by impulse and by thought; but\nthe manner how, hardly comes within our comprehension: we are equally\nat a loss in both. So that, however we consider motion, and its\ncommunication, either from body or spirit, the idea which belongs to\nspirit is at least as clear as that which belongs to body. And if we\nconsider the active power of moving, or, as I may call it, motivity, it\nis much clearer in spirit than body; since two bodies, placed by one\nanother at rest, will never afford us the idea of a power in the one to\nmove the other, but by a borrowed motion: whereas the mind every day\naffords us ideas of an active power of moving of bodies; and therefore\nit is worth our consideration, whether active power be not the proper\nattribute of spirits, and passive power of matter. Hence may be\nconjectured that created spirits are not totally separate from matter,\nbecause they are both active and passive. Pure spirit, viz. God, is\nonly active; pure matter is only passive; those beings that are both\nactive and passive, we may judge to partake of both. But be that as it\nwill, I think, we have as many and as clear ideas belonging to spirit\nas we have belonging to body, the substance of each being equally\nunknown to us; and the idea of thinking in spirit, as clear as of\nextension in body; and the communication of motion by thought, which we\nattribute to spirit, is as evident as that by impulse, which we ascribe\nto body. Constant experience makes us sensible of both these, though\nour narrow understandings can comprehend neither. For, when the mind\nwould look beyond those original ideas we have from sensation or\nreflection, and penetrate into their causes, and manner of production,\nwe find still it discovers nothing but its own short-sightedness.\n\n29. Summary.\n\nTo conclude. Sensation convinces us that there are solid extended\nsubstances; and reflection, that there are thinking ones: experience\nassures us of the existence of such beings, and that the one hath a\npower to move body by impulse, the other by thought; this we cannot\ndoubt of. Experience, I say, every moment furnishes us with the clear\nideas both of the one and the other. But beyond these ideas, as\nreceived from their proper sources, our faculties will not reach. If we\nwould inquire further into their nature, causes, and manner, we\nperceive not the nature of extension clearer than we do of thinking. If\nwe would explain them any further, one is as easy as the other; and\nthere is no more difficulty to conceive how A SUBSTANCE WE KNOW NOT\nshould, by thought, set body into motion, than how A SUBSTANCE WE KNOW\nNOT should, by impulse, set body into motion. So that we are no more\nable to discover wherein the ideas belonging to body consist, than\nthose belonging to spirit. From whence it seems probable to me, that\nthe simple ideas we receive from sensation and reflection are the\nboundaries of our thoughts; beyond which the mind, whatever efforts it\nwould make, is not able to advance one jot; nor can it make any\ndiscoveries, when it would pry into the nature and hidden causes of\nthose ideas.\n\n30. Our idea of Spirit and our idea of Body compared.\n\nSo that, in short, the idea we have of spirit, compared with the idea\nwe have of body, stands thus: the substance of spirits is unknown to\nus; and so is the substance of body equally unknown to us. Two primary\nqualities or properties of body, viz. solid coherent parts and impulse,\nwe have distinct clear ideas of: so likewise we know, and have distinct\nclear ideas, of two primary qualities or properties of spirit, viz.\nthinking, and a power of action; i.e. a power of beginning or stopping\nseveral thoughts or motions. We have also the ideas of several\nqualities inherent in bodies, and have the clear distinct ideas of\nthem; which qualities are but the various modifications of the\nextension of cohering solid parts, and their motion. We have likewise\nthe ideas of the several modes of thinking viz. believing, doubting,\nintending, fearing, hoping; all which are but the several modes of\nthinking. We have also the ideas of willing, and moving the body\nconsequent to it, and with the body itself too; for, as has been shown,\nspirit is capable of motion.\n\n31. The Notion of Spirit involves no more Difficulty in it than that of\nBody.\n\nLastly, if this notion of immaterial spirit may have, perhaps, some\ndifficulties in it not easily to be explained, we have therefore no\nmore reason to deny or doubt the existence of such spirits, than we\nhave to deny or doubt the existence of body; because the notion of body\nis cumbered with some difficulties very hard, and perhaps impossible to\nbe explained or understood by us. For I would fain have instanced\nanything in our notion of spirit more perplexed, or nearer a\ncontradiction, than the very notion of body includes in it; the\ndivisibility IN INFINITUM of any finite extension involving us, whether\nwe grant or deny it, in consequences impossible to be explicated or\nmade in our apprehensions consistent; consequences that carry greater\ndifficulty, and more apparent absurdity, than anything can follow from\nthe notion of an immaterial knowing substance.\n\n32. We know nothing of things beyond our simple Ideas of them.\n\nWhich we are not at all to wonder at, since we having but some few\nsuperficial ideas of things, discovered to us only by the senses from\nwithout, or by the mind, reflecting on what it experiments in itself\nwithin, have no knowledge beyond that, much less of the internal\nconstitution, and true nature of things, being destitute of faculties\nto attain it. And therefore experimenting and discovering in ourselves\nknowledge, and the power of voluntary motion, as certainly as we\nexperiment, or discover in things without us, the cohesion and\nseparation of solid parts, which is the extension and motion of bodies;\nwe have as much reason to be satisfied with our notion of immaterial\nspirit, as with our notion of body, and the existence of the one as\nwell as the other. For it being no more a contradiction that thinking\nshould exist separate and independent from solidity, than it is a\ncontradiction that solidity should exist separate and independent from\nthinking, they being both but simple ideas, independent one from\nanother and having as clear and distinct ideas in us of thinking as of\nsolidity, I know not why we may not as well allow a thinking thing\nwithout solidity, i.e. immaterial, to exist, as a solid thing without\nthinking, i.e. matter, to exist; especially since it is not harder to\nconceive how thinking should exist without matter, than how matter\nshould think. For whensoever we would proceed beyond these simple ideas\nwe have from sensation and reflection and dive further into the nature\nof things, we fall presently into darkness and obscurity, perplexedness\nand difficulties, and can discover nothing further but our own\nblindness and ignorance. But whichever of these complex ideas be\nclearest, that of body, or immaterial spirit, this is evident, that the\nsimple ideas that make them up are no other than what we have received\nfrom sensation or reflection: and so is it of all our other ideas of\nsubstances, even of God himself.\n\n33. Our complex idea of God.\n\nFor if we examine the idea we have of the incomprehensible Supreme\nBeing, we shall find that we come by it the same way; and that the\ncomplex ideas we have both of God, and separate spirits, are made of\nthe simple ideas we receive from reflection; v.g. having, from what we\nexperiment in ourselves, got the ideas of existence and duration; of\nknowledge and power; of pleasure and happiness; and of several other\nqualities and powers, which it is better to have than to be without;\nwhen we would frame an idea the most suitable we can to the Supreme\nBeing, we enlarge every one of these with our idea of infinity; and so\nputting them together, make our complex idea of God. For that the mind\nhas such a power of enlarging some of its ideas, received from\nsensation and reflection, has been already shown.\n\n34. Our complex idea of God as infinite.\n\nIf I find that I know some few things, and some of them, or all,\nperhaps imperfectly, I can frame an idea of knowing twice as many;\nwhich I can double again, as often as I can add to number; and thus\nenlarge my idea of knowledge, by extending its comprehension to all\nthings existing, or possible. The same also I can do of knowing them\nmore perfectly; i.e. all their qualities, powers, causes, consequences,\nand relations, &c., till all be perfectly known that is in them, or can\nany way relate to them: and thus frame the idea of infinite or\nboundless knowledge. The same may also be done of power, till we come\nto that we call infinite; and also of the duration of existence,\nwithout beginning or end, and so frame the idea of an eternal being.\nThe degrees or extent wherein we ascribe existence, power, wisdom, and\nall other perfections (which we can have any ideas of) to that\nsovereign Being, which we call G-d, being all boundless and infinite,\nwe frame the best idea of him our minds are capable of: all which is\ndone, I say, by enlarging those simple ideas we have taken from the\noperations of our own minds, by reflection; or by our senses, from\nexterior things, to that vastness to which infinity can extend them.\n\n35. God in his own essence incognisable.\n\nFor it is infinity, which, joined to our ideas of existence, power,\nknowledge, &c., makes that complex idea, whereby we represent to\nourselves, the best we can, the Supreme Being. For, though in his own\nessence (which certainly we do not know, not knowing the real essence\nof a pebble, or a fly, or of our own selves) God be simple and\nuncompounded; yet I think I may say we have no other idea of him, but a\ncomplex one of existence, knowledge, power, happiness, &c., infinite\nand eternal: which are all distinct ideas, and some of them, being\nrelative, are again compounded of others: all which being, as has been\nshown, originally got from sensation and reflection, go to make up the\nidea or notion we have of God.\n\n36. No Ideas in our complex ideas of Spirits, but those got from\nSensation or Reflection.\n\nThis further is to be observed, that there is no idea we attribute to\nGod, bating infinity, which is not also a part of our complex idea of\nother spirits. Because, being capable of no other simple ideas,\nbelonging to anything but body, but those which by reflection we\nreceive from the operation of our own minds, we can attribute to\nspirits no other but what we receive from thence: and all the\ndifference we can put between them, in our contemplation of spirits, is\nonly in the several extents and degrees of their knowledge, power,\nduration, happiness, &c. For that in our ideas, as well of spirits as\nof other things, we are restrained to THOSE WE RECEIVE FROM SENSATION\nAND REFLECTION, is evident from hence,\u2014That, in our ideas of spirits,\nhow much soever advanced in perfection beyond those of bodies, even to\nthat of infinite, we cannot yet have any idea of the manner wherein\nthey discover their thoughts one to another: though we must necessarily\nconclude that separate spirits, which are beings that have perfecter\nknowledge and greater happiness than we, must needs have also a\nperfecter way of communicating their thoughts than we have, who are\nfain to make use of corporeal signs, and particular sounds; which are\ntherefore of most general use, as being the best and quickest we are\ncapable of. But of immediate communication having no experiment in\nourselves, and consequently no notion of it at all, we have no idea how\nspirits, which use not words, can with quickness; or much less how\nspirits that have no bodies can be masters of their own thoughts, and\ncommunicate or conceal them at pleasure, though we cannot but\nnecessarily suppose they have such a power.\n\n37. Recapitulation.\n\nAnd thus we have seen what kind of ideas we have of SUBSTANCES OF ALL\nKINDS, wherein they consist, and how we came by them. From whence, I\nthink, it is very evident,\n\nFirst, That all our ideas of the several SORTS of substances are\nnothing but collections of simple ideas: with a supposition of\nSOMETHING to which they belong, and in which they subsist; though of\nthis supposed something we have no clear distinct idea at all.\n\nSecondly, That all the simple ideas, that thus united in one common\nSUBSTRATUM, make up our complex ideas of several SORTS of substances,\nare no other but such as we have received from sensation or reflection.\nSo that even in those which we think we are most intimately acquainted\nwith, and that come nearest the comprehension of our most enlarged\nconceptions, we cannot go beyond those simple ideas. And even in those\nwhich seem most remote from all we have to do with, and do infinitely\nsurpass anything we can perceive in ourselves by reflection; or\ndiscover by sensation in other things, we can attain to nothing but\nthose simple ideas, which we originally received from sensation or\nreflection; as is evident in the complex ideas we have of angels, and\nparticularly of God himself.\n\nThirdly, That most of the simple ideas that make up our complex ideas\nof substances, when truly considered, are only POWERS, however we are\napt to take them for positive qualities; v.g. the greatest part of the\nideas that make our complex idea of GOLD are yellowness, great weight,\nductility, fusibility, and solubility in AQUA REGIA, &c., all united\ntogether in an unknown SUBSTRATUM: all which ideas are nothing else but\nso many relations to other substances; and are not really in the gold,\nconsidered barely in itself, though they depend on those real and\nprimary qualities of its internal constitution, whereby it has a\nfitness differently to operate, and be operated on by several other\nsubstances.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIV.\nOF COLLECTIVE IDEAS OF SUBSTANCES.\n\n\n1. A collective idea is one Idea.\n\nBesides these complex ideas of several SINGLE substances, as of man,\nhorse, gold, violet, apple, &c., the mind hath also complex COLLECTIVE\nideas of substances; which I so call, because such ideas are made up of\nmany particular substances considered together, as united into one\nidea, and which so joined; are looked on as one; v. g. the idea of such\na collection of men as make an ARMY, though consisting of a great\nnumber of distinct substances, is as much one idea as the idea of a\nman: and the great collective idea of all bodies whatsoever, signified\nby the name WORLD, is as much one idea as the idea of any the least\nparticle of matter in it; it sufficing to the unity of any idea, that\nit be considered as one representation or picture, though made up of\never so many particulars.\n\n2. Made by the Power of composing in the Mind.\n\nThese collective ideas of substances the mind makes, by its power of\ncomposition, and uniting severally either simple or complex ideas into\none, as it does, by the same faculty, make the complex ideas of\nparticular substances, consisting of an aggregate of divers simple\nideas, united in one substance. And as the mind, by putting together\nthe repeated ideas of unity, makes the collective mode, or complex\nidea, of any number, as a score, or a gross, &c.,\u2014so, by putting\ntogether several particular substances, it makes collective ideas of\nsubstances, as a troop, an army, a swarm, a city, a fleet; each of\nwhich every one finds that he represents to his own mind by one idea,\nin one view; and so under that notion considers those several things as\nperfectly one, as one ship, or one atom. Nor is it harder to conceive\nhow an army of ten thousand men should make one idea than how a man\nshould make one idea; it being as easy to the mind to unite into one\nthe idea of a great number of men, and consider it as one as it is to\nunite into one particular all the distinct ideas that make up the\ncomposition of a man, and consider them all together as one.\n\n3. Artificial things that are made up of distinct substances are our\ncollective Ideas.\n\nAmongst such kind of collective ideas are to be counted most part of\nartificial things, at least such of them as are made up of distinct\nsubstances: and, in truth, if we consider all these collective ideas\naright, as ARMY, CONSTELLATION, UNIVERSE, as they are united into so\nmany single ideas, they are but the artificial draughts of the mind;\nbringing things very remote, and independent on one another, into one\nview, the better to contemplate and discourse on them, united into one\nconception, and signified by one name. For there are no things so\nremote, nor so contrary, which the mind cannot, by this art of\ncomposition, bring into one idea; as is visible in that signified by\nthe name UNIVERSE.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXV.\nOF RELATION.\n\n\n1. Relation, what.\n\nBESIDES the ideas, whether simple or complex, that the mind has of\nthings as they are in themselves, there are others it gets from their\ncomparison one with another. The understanding, in the consideration of\nanything, is not confined to that precise object: it can carry any idea\nas it were beyond itself, or at least look beyond it, to see how it\nstands in conformity to any other. When the mind so considers one\nthing, that it does as it were bring it to, and set it by another, and\ncarries its view from one to the other\u2014this is, as the words import,\nRELATION and RESPECT; and the denominations given to positive things,\nintimating that respect, and serving as marks to lead the thoughts\nbeyond the subject itself denominated, to something distinct from it,\nare what we call RELATIVES; and the things so brought together,\nRELATED. Thus, when the mind considers Caius as such a positive being,\nit takes nothing into that idea but what really exists in Caius; v.g.\nwhen I consider him as a man, I have nothing in my mind but the complex\nidea of the species, man. So likewise, when I say Caius is a white man,\nI have nothing but the bare consideration of a man who hath that white\ncolour. But when I give Caius the name HUSBAND, I intimate some other\nperson; and when I give him the name WHITER, I intimate some other\nthing: in both cases my thought is led to something beyond Caius, and\nthere are two things brought into consideration. And since any idea,\nwhether simple or complex, may be the occasion why the mind thus brings\ntwo things together, and as it were takes a view of them at once,\nthough still considered as distinct: therefore any of our ideas may be\nthe foundation of relation. As in the above-mentioned instance, the\ncontract and ceremony of marriage with Sempronia is the occasion of the\ndenomination and relation of husband; and the colour white the occasion\nwhy he is said to be whiter than free-stone.\n\n2. Ideas of relations without correlative Terms, not easily\napprehended.\n\nThese and the like relations, expressed by relative terms that have\nothers answering them, with a reciprocal intimation, as father and son,\nbigger and less, cause and effect, are very obvious to every one, and\neverybody at first sight perceives the relation. For father and son,\nhusband and wife, and such other correlative terms, seem so nearly to\nbelong one to another, and, through custom, do so readily chime and\nanswer one another in people\u2019s memories, that, upon the naming of\neither of them, the thoughts are presently carried beyond the thing so\nnamed; and nobody overlooks or doubts of a relation, where it is so\nplainly intimated. But where languages have failed to give correlative\nnames, there the relation is not always so easily taken notice of.\nCONCUBINE is, no doubt, a relative name, as well as wife: but in\nlanguages where this and the like words have not a correlative term,\nthere people are not so apt to take them to be so, as wanting that\nevident mark of relation which is between correlatives, which seem to\nexplain one another, and not to be able to exist, but together. Hence\nit is, that many of those names, which, duly considered, do include\nevident relations, have been called EXTERNAL DENOMINATIONS. But all\nnames that are more than empty sounds must signify some idea, which is\neither in the thing to which the name is applied, and then it is\npositive, and is looked on as united to and existing in the thing to\nwhich the denomination is given; or else it arises from the respect the\nmind finds in it to something distinct from it, with which it considers\nit, and then it includes a relation.\n\n3. Some seemingly absolute Terms contain Relations.\n\nAnother sort of relative terms there is, which are not looked on to be\neither relative, or so much as external denominations: which yet, under\nthe form and appearance of signifying something absolute in the\nsubject, do conceal a tacit, though less observable, relation. Such are\nthe seemingly positive terms of OLD, GREAT, IMPERFECT, &c., whereof I\nshall have occasion to speak more at large in the following chapters.\n\n4. Relation different from the Things related.\n\nThis further may be observed, That the ideas of relations may be the\nsame in men who have far different ideas of the things that are\nrelated, or that are thus compared: v. g. those who have far different\nideas of a man, may yet agree in the notion of a father; which is a\nnotion superinduced to the substance, or man, and refers only to an act\nof that thing called man whereby he contributed to the generation of\none of his own kind, let man be what it will.\n\n5. Change of Relation may be without any Change in the things related.\n\nThe nature therefore of relation consists in the referring or comparing\ntwo things one to another; from which comparison one or both comes to\nbe denominated. And if either of those things be removed, or cease to\nbe, the relation ceases, and the denomination consequent to it, though\nthe other receive in itself no alteration at all; v.g. Caius, whom I\nconsider to-day as a father, ceases to be so to-morrow, only by the\ndeath of his son, without any alteration made in himself. Nay, barely\nby the mind\u2019s changing the object to which it compares anything, the\nsame thing is capable of having contrary denominations at the same\ntime: v.g. Caius, compared to several persons, may truly be said to be\nolder and younger, stronger and weaker, &c.\n\n6. Relation only betwixt two things.\n\nWhatsoever doth or can exist, or be considered as one thing is\npositive: and so not only simple ideas and substances, but modes also,\nare positive beings: though the parts of which they consist are very\noften relative one to another: but the whole together considered as one\nthing, and producing in us the complex idea of one thing, which idea is\nin our minds, as one picture, though an aggregate of divers parts, and\nunder one name, it is a positive or absolute thing, or idea. Thus a\ntriangle, though the parts thereof compared one to another be relative,\nyet the idea of the whole is a positive absolute idea. The same may be\nsaid of a family, a tune, &c.; for there can be no relation but betwixt\ntwo things considered as two things. There must always be in relation\ntwo ideas or things, either in themselves really separate, or\nconsidered as distinct, and then a ground or occasion for their\ncomparison.\n\n7. All Things capable of Relation.\n\nConcerning relation in general, these things may be considered:\n\nFirst, That there is no one thing, whether simple idea, substance,\nmode, or relation, or name of either of them, which is not capable of\nalmost an infinite number of considerations in reference to other\nthings: and therefore this makes no small part of men\u2019s thoughts and\nwords: v.g. one single man may at once be concerned in, and sustain all\nthese following relations, and many more, viz. father, brother, son,\ngrandfather, grandson, father-in-law, son-in-law, husband, friend,\nenemy, subject, general, judge, patron, client, professor, European,\nEnglishman, islander, servant, master, possessor, captain, superior,\ninferior, bigger, less, older, younger, contemporary, like, unlike,\n&c., to an almost infinite number: he being capable of as many\nrelations as there can be occasions of comparing him to other things,\nin any manner of agreement, disagreement, or respect whatsoever. For,\nas I said, relation is a way of comparing or considering two things\n[*dropped line] from that comparison; and sometimes giving even the\nrelation itself a name.\n\n8. Our Ideas of Relations often clearer than of the Subjects related.\n\nSecondly, This further may be considered concerning relation, that\nthough it be not contained in the real existence of things, but\nsomething extraneous and superinduced, yet the ideas which relative\nwords stand for are often clearer and more distinct than of those\nsubstances to which they do belong. The notion we have of a father or\nbrother is a great deal clearer and more distinct than that we have of\na man; or, if you will, PATERNITY is a thing whereof it is easier to\nhave a clear idea, than of HUMANITY; and I can much easier conceive\nwhat a friend is, than what God; because the knowledge of one action,\nor one simple idea, is oftentimes sufficient to give me the notion of a\nrelation; but to the knowing of any substantial being, an accurate\ncollection of sundry ideas is necessary. A man, if he compares two\nthings together, can hardly be supposed not to know what it is wherein\nhe compares them: so that when he compares any things together, he\ncannot but have a very clear idea of that relation. THE IDEAS, THEN, OF\nRELATIONS, ARE CAPABLE AT LEAST OF BEING MORE PERFECT AND DISTINCT IN\nOUR MINDS THAN THOSE OF SUBSTANCES. Because it is commonly hard to know\nall the simple ideas which are really in any substance, but for the\nmost part easy enough to know the simple ideas that make up any\nrelation I think on, or have a name for: v.g. comparing two men in\nreference to one common parent, it is very easy to frame the ideas of\nbrothers, without having yet the perfect idea of a man. For significant\nrelative words, as well as others, standing only for ideas; and those\nbeing all either simple, or made up of simple ones, it suffices for the\nknowing the precise idea the relative term stands for, to have a clear\nconception of that which is the foundation of the relation; which may\nbe done without having a perfect and clear idea of the thing it is\nattributed to. Thus, having the notion that one laid the egg out of\nwhich the other was hatched, I have a clear idea of the relation of DAM\nand CHICK between the two cassiowaries in St. James\u2019s Park; though\nperhaps I have but a very obscure and imperfect idea of those birds\nthemselves.\n\n9. Relations all terminate in simple Ideas.\n\nThirdly, Though there be a great number of considerations wherein\nthings may be compared one with another, and so a multitude of\nrelations, yet they all terminate in, and are concerned about those\nsimple ideas, either of sensation or reflection, which I think to be\nthe whole materials of all our knowledge. To clear this, I shall show\nit in the most considerable relations that we have any notion of; and\nin some that seem to be the most remote from sense or reflection: which\nyet will appear to have their ideas from thence, and leave it past\ndoubt that the notions we have of them are but certain simple ideas,\nand so originally derived from sense or reflection.\n\n10. Terms leading the Mind beyond the Subject denominated, are\nrelative.\n\nFourthly, That relation being the considering of one thing with another\nwhich is extrinsical to it, it is evident that all words that\nnecessarily lead the mind to any other ideas than are supposed really\nto exist in that thing to which the words are applied are relative\nwords: v.g.a MAN, BLACK, MERRY, THOUGHTFUL, THIRSTY, ANGRY, EXTENDED;\nthese and the like are all absolute, because they neither signify nor\nintimate anything but what does or is supposed really to exist in the\nman thus denominated; but FATHER, BROTHER, KING, HUSBAND, BLACKER,\nMERRIER, &c., are words which, together with the thing they denominate,\nimply also something else separate and exterior to the existence of\nthat thing.\n\n11. All relatives made up of simple ideas.\n\nHaving laid down these premises concerning relation in general, I shall\nnow proceed to show, in some instances, how all the ideas we have of\nrelation are made up, as the others are, only of simple ideas; and that\nthey all, how refined or remote from sense soever they seem, terminate\nat last in simple ideas. I shall begin with the most comprehensive\nrelation, wherein all things that do, or can exist, are concerned, and\nthat is the relation of CAUSE and EFFECT: the idea whereof, how derived\nfrom the two fountains of all our knowledge, sensation and reflection,\nI shall in the next place consider.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVI.\nOF CAUSE AND EFFECT, AND OTHER RELATIONS.\n\n\n1. Whence the Ideas of cause and effect got.\n\nIn the notice that our senses take of the constant vicissitude of\nthings, we cannot but observe that several particular, both qualities\nand substances, begin to exist; and that they receive this their\nexistence from the due application and operation of some other being.\nFrom this observation we get our ideas of CAUSE and EFFECT. THAT WHICH\nPRODUCES ANY SIMPLE OR COMPLEX IDEA we denote by the general name,\nCAUSE, and THAT WHICH IS PRODUCED, EFFECT. Thus, finding that in that\nsubstance which we call wax, fluidity, which is a simple idea that was\nnot in it before, is constantly produced by the application of a\ncertain degree of heat we call the simple idea of heat, in relation to\nfluidity in wax, the cause of it, and fluidity the effect. So also,\nfinding that the substance, wood, which is a certain collection of\nsimple ideas so called, by the application of fire, is turned into\nanother substance, called ashes; i. e., another complex idea,\nconsisting of a collection of simple ideas, quite different from that\ncomplex idea which we call wood; we consider fire, in relation to\nashes, as cause, and the ashes, as effect. So that whatever is\nconsidered by us to conduce or operate to the producing any particular\nsimple idea, or collection of simple ideas, whether substance or mode,\nwhich did not before exist, hath thereby in our minds the relation of a\ncause, and so is denominated by us.\n\n2. Creation Generation, making Alteration.\n\nHaving thus, from what our senses are able to discover in the\noperations of bodies on one another, got the notion of cause and\neffect, viz. that a cause is that which makes any other thing, either\nsimple idea, substance, or mode, begin to be; and an effect is that\nwhich had its beginning from some other thing; the mind finds no great\ndifficulty to distinguish the several originals of things into two\nsorts:\u2014\n\nFirst, When the thing is wholly made new, so that no part thereof did\never exist before; as when a new particle of matter doth begin to\nexist, IN RERUM NATURA, which had before no being, and this we call\nCREATION.\n\nSecondly, When a thing is made up of particles, which did all of them\nbefore exist; but that very thing, so constituted of pre-existing\nparticles, which, considered all together, make up such a collection of\nsimple ideas, had not any existence before, as this man, this egg,\nrose, or cherry, &c. And this, when referred to a substance, produced\nin the ordinary course of nature by internal principle, but set on work\nby, and received from, some external agent, or cause, and working by\ninsensible ways which we perceive not, we call GENERATION. When the\ncause is extrinsical, and the effect produced by a sensible separation,\nor juxta-position of discernible parts, we call it MAKING; and such are\nall artificial things. When any simple idea is produced, which was not\nin that subject before, we call it ALTERATION. Thus a man is generated,\na picture made; and either of them altered, when any new sensible\nquality or simple idea is produced in either of them, which was not\nthere before: and the things thus made to exist, which were not there\nbefore, are effects; and those things which operated to the existence,\ncauses. In which, and all other cases, we may observe, that the notion\nof cause and effect has its rise from ideas received by sensation or\nreflection; and that this relation, how comprehensive soever,\nterminates at last in them. For to have the idea of cause and effect,\nit suffices to consider any simple idea or substance, as beginning to\nexist, by the operation of some other, without knowing the manner of\nthat operation.\n\n3. Relations of Time.\n\nTime and place are also the foundations of very large relations; and\nall finite beings at least are concerned in them. But having already\nshown in another place how we get those ideas, it may suffice here to\nintimate, that most of the denominations of things received from TIME\nare only relations. Thus, when any one says that Queen Elizabeth lived\nsixty-nine, and reigned forty-five years, these words import only the\nrelation of that duration to some other, and mean no more but this,\nThat the duration of her existence was equal to sixty-nine, and the\nduration of her government to forty-five annual revolutions of the sun;\nand so are all words, answering, HOW LONG? Again, William the Conqueror\ninvaded England about the year 1066; which means this, That, taking the\nduration from our Saviour\u2019s time till now for one entire great length\nof time, it shows at what distance this invasion was from the two\nextremes; and so do all words of time answering to the question, WHEN,\nwhich show only the distance of any point of time from the period of a\nlonger duration, from which we measure, and to which we thereby\nconsider it as related.\n\n4. Some ideas of Time supposed positive and found to be relative.\n\nThere are yet, besides those, other words of time, that ordinarily are\nthought to stand for positive ideas, which yet will, when considered,\nbe found to be relative; such as are, young, old, &c., which include\nand intimate the relation anything has to a certain length of duration,\nwhereof we have the idea in our minds. Thus, having settled in our\nthoughts the idea of the ordinary duration of a man to be seventy\nyears, when we say a man is YOUNG, we mean that his age is yet but a\nsmall part of that which usually men attain to; and when we denominate\nhim OLD, we mean that his duration is run out almost to the end of that\nwhich men do not usually exceed. And so it is but comparing the\nparticular age or duration of this or that man, to the idea of that\nduration which we have in our minds, as ordinarily belonging to that\nsort of animals: which is plain in the application of these names to\nother things; for a man is called young at twenty years, and very young\nat seven years old: but yet a horse we call old at twenty, and a dog at\nseven years, because in each of these we compare their age to different\nideas of duration, which are settled in our minds as belonging to these\nseveral sorts of animals, in the ordinary course of nature. But the sun\nand stars, though they have outlasted several generations of men, we\ncall not old, because we do not know what period God hath set to that\nsort of beings. This term belonging properly to those things which we\ncan observe in the ordinary course of things, by a natural decay, to\ncome to an end in a certain period of time; and so have in our minds,\nas it were, a standard to which we can compare the several parts of\ntheir duration; and, by the relation they bear thereunto, call them\nyoung or old; which we cannot, therefore, do to a ruby or a diamond,\nthings whose usual periods we know not.\n\n5. Relations of Place and Extension.\n\nThe relation also that things have to one another in their PLACES and\ndistances is very obvious to observe; as above, below, a mile distant\nfrom Charing-cross, in England, and in London. But as in duration, so\nin extension and bulk, there are some ideas that are relative which we\nsignify by names that are thought positive; as GREAT and LITTLE are\ntruly relations. For here also, having, by observation, settled in our\nminds the ideas of the bigness of several species of things from those\nwe have been most accustomed to, we make them as it were the standards,\nwhereby to denominate the bulk of others. Thus we call a great apple,\nsuch a one as is bigger than the ordinary sort of those we have been\nused to; and a little horse, such a one as comes not up to the size of\nthat idea which we have in our minds to belong ordinarily to horses;\nand that will be a great horse to a Welchman, which is but a little one\nto a Fleming; they two having, from the different breed of their\ncountries, taken several-sized ideas to which they compare, and in\nrelation to which they denominate their great and their little.\n\n6. Absolute Terms often stand for Relations.\n\nSo likewise weak and strong are but relative denominations of power,\ncompared to some ideas we have at that time of greater or less power.\nThus, when we say a weak man, we mean one that has not so much strength\nor power to move as usually men have, or usually those of his size\nhave; which is a comparing his strength to the idea we have of the\nusual strength of men, or men of such a size. The like when we say the\ncreatures are all weak things; weak there is but a relative term,\nsignifying the disproportion there is in the power of God and the\ncreatures. And so abundance of words, in ordinary speech, stand only\nfor relations (and perhaps the greatest part) which at first sight seem\nto have no such signification: v.g. the ship has necessary stores.\nNECESSARY and STORES are both relative words; one having a relation to\nthe accomplishing the voyage intended, and the other to future use. All\nwhich relations, how they are confined to, and terminate in ideas\nderived from sensation or reflection, is too obvious to need any\nexplication.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVII.\nOF IDENTITY AND DIVERSITY.\n\n\n1. Wherein Identity consists.\n\nANOTHER occasion the mind often takes of comparing, is the very being\nof things, when, considering ANYTHING AS EXISTING AT ANY DETERMINED\nTIME AND PLACE, we compare it with ITSELF EXISTING AT ANOTHER TIME, and\nthereon form the ideas of IDENTITY and DIVERSITY. When we see anything\nto be in any place in any instant of time, we are sure (be it what it\nwill) that it is that very thing, and not another which at that same\ntime exists in another place, how like and undistinguishable soever it\nmay be in all other respects: and in this consists IDENTITY, when the\nideas it is attributed to vary not at all from what they were that\nmoment wherein we consider their former existence, and to which we\ncompare the present. For we never finding, nor conceiving it possible,\nthat two things of the same kind should exist in the same place at the\nsame time, we rightly conclude, that, whatever exists anywhere at any\ntime, excludes all of the same kind, and is there itself alone. When\ntherefore we demand whether anything be the SAME or no, it refers\nalways to something that existed such a time in such a place, which it\nwas certain, at that instant, was the same with itself, and no other.\nFrom whence it follows, that one thing cannot have two beginnings of\nexistence, nor two things one beginning; it being impossible for two\nthings of the same kind to be or exist in the same instant, in the very\nsame place; or one and the same thing in different places. That,\ntherefore, that had one beginning, is the same thing; and that which\nhad a different beginning in time and place from that, is not the same,\nbut diverse. That which has made the difficulty about this relation has\nbeen the little care and attention used in having precise notions of\nthe things to which it is attributed.\n\n2. Identity of Substances.\n\nWe have the ideas but of three sorts of substances: 1. GOD. 2. FINITE\nINTELLIGENCES. 3. BODIES.\n\nFirst, GOD is without beginning, eternal, unalterable, and everywhere,\nand therefore concerning his identity there can be no doubt.\n\nSecondly, FINITE SPIRITS having had each its determinated time and\nplace of beginning to exist, the relation to that time and place will\nalways determine to each of them its identity, as long as it exists.\n\nThirdly, The same will hold of every PARTICLE OF MATTER, to which no\naddition or subtraction of matter being made, it is the same. For,\nthough these three sorts of substances, as we term them, do not exclude\none another out of the same place, yet we cannot conceive but that they\nmust necessarily each of them exclude any of the same kind out of the\nsame place: or else the notions and names of identity and diversity\nwould be in vain, and there could be no such distinctions of\nsubstances, or anything else one from another. For example: could two\nbodies be in the same place at the same time; then those two parcels of\nmatter must be one and the same, take them great or little; nay, all\nbodies must be one and the same. For, by the same reason that two\nparticles of matter may be in one place, all bodies may be in one\nplace: which, when it can be supposed, takes away the distinction of\nidentity and diversity of one and more, and renders it ridiculous. But\nit being a contradiction that two or more should be one, identity and\ndiversity are relations and ways of comparing well founded, and of use\nto the understanding.\n\n3. Identity of modes and relations.\n\nAll other things being but modes or relations ultimately terminated in\nsubstances, the identity and diversity of each particular existence of\nthem too will be by the same way determined: only as to things whose\nexistence is in succession, such as are the actions of finite beings,\nv. g. MOTION and THOUGHT, both which consist in a continued train of\nsuccession, concerning THEIR diversity there can be no question:\nbecause each perishing the moment it begins, they cannot exist in\ndifferent times, or in different places, as permanent beings can at\ndifferent times exist in distant places; and therefore no motion or\nthought, considered as at different times, can be the same, each part\nthereof having a different beginning of existence.\n\n4. Principium Individuationis.\n\nFrom what has been said, it is easy to discover what is so much\ninquired after, the PRINCIPIUM INDIVIDUATIONIS; and that, it is plain,\nis existence itself; which determines a being of any sort to a\nparticular time and place, incommunicable to two beings of the same\nkind. This, though it seems easier to conceive in simple substances or\nmodes; yet, when reflected on, is not more difficult in compound ones,\nif care be taken to what it is applied: v.g. let us suppose an atom,\ni.e. a continued body under one immutable superficies, existing in a\ndetermined time and place; it is evident, that, considered in any\ninstant of its existence, it is in that instant the same with itself.\nFor, being at that instant what it is, and nothing else, it is the\nsame, and so must continue as long as its existence is continued; for\nso long it will be the same, and no other. In like manner, if two or\nmore atoms be joined together into the same mass, every one of those\natoms will be the same, by the foregoing rule: and whilst they exist\nunited together, the mass, consisting of the same atoms, must be the\nsame mass, or the same body, let the parts be ever so differently\njumbled. But if one of these atoms be taken away, or one new one added,\nit is no longer the same mass or the same body. In the state of living\ncreatures, their identity depends not on a mass of the same particles,\nbut on something else. For in them the variation of great parcels of\nmatter alters not the identity: an oak growing from a plant to a great\ntree, and then lopped, is still the same oak; and a colt grown up to a\nhorse, sometimes fat, sometimes lean, is all the while the same horse:\nthough, in both these cases, there may be a manifest change of the\nparts; so that truly they are not either of them the same masses of\nmatter, though they be truly one of them the same oak, and the other\nthe same horse. The reason whereof is, that, in these two cases\u2014a MASS\nOF MATTER and a LIVING BODY\u2014identity is not applied to the same thing.\n\n5. Identity of Vegetables.\n\nWe must therefore consider wherein an oak differs from a mass of\nmatter, and that seems to me to be in this, that the one is only the\ncohesion of particles of matter any how united, the other such a\ndisposition of them as constitutes the parts of an oak; and such an\norganization of those parts as is fit to receive and distribute\nnourishment, so as to continue and frame the wood, bark, and leaves,\n&c., of an oak, in which consists the vegetable life. That being then\none plant which has such an organization of parts in one coherent body,\npartaking of one common life, it continues to be the same plant as long\nas it partakes of the same life, though that life be communicated to\nnew particles of matter vitally united to the living plant, in a like\ncontinued organization conformable to that sort of plants. For this\norganization, being at any one instant in any one collection of matter,\nis in that particular concrete distinguished from all other, and IS\nthat individual life, which existing constantly from that moment both\nforwards and backwards, in the same continuity of insensibly succeeding\nparts united to the living body of the plant, it has that identity\nwhich makes the same plant, and all the parts of it, parts of the same\nplant, during all the time that they exist united in that continued\norganization, which is fit to convey that common life to all the parts\nso united.\n\n6. Identity of Animals.\n\nThe case is not so much different in BRUTES but that any one may hence\nsee what makes an animal and continues it the same. Something we have\nlike this in machines, and may serve to illustrate it. For example,\nwhat is a watch? It is plain it is nothing but a fit organization or\nconstruction of parts to a certain end, which, when a sufficient force\nis added to it, it is capable to attain. If we would suppose this\nmachine one continued body, all whose organized parts were repaired,\nincreased, or diminished by a constant addition or separation of\ninsensible parts, with one common life, we should have something very\nmuch like the body of an animal; with this difference, That, in an\nanimal the fitness of the organization, and the motion wherein life\nconsists, begin together, the motion coming from within; but in\nmachines the force coming sensibly from without, is often away when the\norgan is in order, and well fitted to receive it.\n\n7. The Identity of Man.\n\nThis also shows wherein the identity of the same MAN consists; viz. in\nnothing but a participation of the same continued life, by constantly\nfleeting particles of matter, in succession vitally united to the same\norganized body. He that shall place the identity of man in anything\nelse, but, like that of other animals, in one fitly organized body,\ntaken in any one instant, and from thence continued, under one\norganization of life, in several successively fleeting particles of\nmatter united to it, will find it hard to make an embryo, one of years,\nmad and sober, the SAME man, by any supposition, that will not make it\npossible for Seth, Ismael, Socrates, Pilate, St. Austin, and Caesar\nBorgia, to be the same man. For if the identity of SOUL ALONE makes the\nsame MAN; and there be nothing in the nature of matter why the same\nindividual spirit may not be united to different bodies, it will be\npossible that those men, living in distant ages, and of different\ntempers, may have been the same man: which way of speaking must be from\na very strange use of the word man, applied to an idea out of which\nbody and shape are excluded. And that way of speaking would agree yet\nworse with the notions of those philosophers who allow of\ntransmigration, and are of opinion that the souls of men may, for their\nmiscarriages, be detruded into the bodies of beasts, as fit\nhabitations, with organs suited to the satisfaction of their brutal\ninclinations. But yet I think nobody, could he be sure that the SOUL of\nHeliogabalus were in one of his hogs, would yet say that hog were a MAN\nor Heliogabalus.\n\n8. Idea of Identity suited to the Idea it is applied to.\n\nIt is not therefore unity of substance that comprehends all sorts of\nidentity, or will determine it in every case; but to conceive and judge\nof it aright, we must consider what idea the word it is applied to\nstands for: it being one thing to be the same SUBSTANCE, another the\nsame MAN, and a third the same PERSON, if PERSON, MAN, and SUBSTANCE,\nare three names standing for three different ideas;\u2014for such as is the\nidea belonging to that name, such must be the identity; which, if it\nhad been a little more carefully attended to, would possibly have\nprevented a great deal of that confusion which often occurs about this\nmatter, with no small seeming difficulties, especially concerning\nPERSONAL identity, which therefore we shall in the next place a little\nconsider.\n\n9. Same man.\n\nAn animal is a living organized body; and consequently the same animal,\nas we have observed, is the same continued LIFE communicated to\ndifferent particles of matter, as they happen successively to be united\nto that organized living body. And whatever is talked of other\ndefinitions, ingenious observation puts it past doubt, that the idea in\nour minds, of which the sound man in our mouths is the sign, is nothing\nelse but of an animal of such a certain form. Since I think I may be\nconfident, that, whoever should see a creature of his own shape or\nmake, though it had no more reason all its life than a cat or a parrot,\nwould call him still a MAN; or whoever should hear a cat or a parrot\ndiscourse, reason, and philosophize, would call or think it nothing but\na CAT or a PARROT; and say, the one was a dull irrational man, and the\nother a very intelligent rational parrot.\n\n10. Same man.\n\nFor I presume it is not the idea of a thinking or rational being alone\nthat makes the IDEA OF A MAN in most people\u2019s sense: but of a body, so\nand so shaped, joined to it; and if that be the idea of a man, the same\nsuccessive body not shifted all at once, must, as well as the same\nimmaterial spirit, go to the making of the same man.\n\n11. Personal Identity.\n\nThis being premised, to find wherein personal identity consists, we\nmust consider what PERSON stands for;\u2014which, I think, is a thinking\nintelligent being, that has reason and reflection, and can consider\nitself as itself, the same thinking thing, in different times and\nplaces; which it does only by that consciousness which is inseparable\nfrom thinking, and, as it seems to me, essential to it: it being\nimpossible for any one to perceive without PERCEIVING that he does\nperceive. When we see, hear, smell, taste, feel, meditate, or will\nanything, we know that we do so. Thus it is always as to our present\nsensations and perceptions: and by this every one is to himself that\nwhich he calls SELF:\u2014it not being considered, in this case, whether the\nsame self be continued in the same or divers substances. For, since\nconsciousness always accompanies thinking, and it is that which makes\nevery one to be what he calls self, and thereby distinguishes himself\nfrom all other thinking things, in this alone consists personal\nidentity, i.e. the sameness of a rational being: and as far as this\nconsciousness can be extended backwards to any past action or thought,\nso far reaches the identity of that person; it is the same self now it\nwas then; and it is by the same self with this present one that now\nreflects on it, that that action was done.\n\n12. Consciousness makes personal Identity.\n\nBut it is further inquired, whether it be the same identical substance.\nThis few would think they had reason to doubt of, if these perceptions,\nwith their consciousness, always remained present in the mind, whereby\nthe same thinking thing would be always consciously present, and, as\nwould be thought, evidently the same to itself. But that which seems to\nmake the difficulty is this, that this consciousness being interrupted\nalways by forgetfulness, there being no moment of our lives wherein we\nhave the whole train of all our past actions before our eyes in one\nview, but even the best memories losing the sight of one part whilst\nthey are viewing another; and we sometimes, and that the greatest part\nof our lives, not reflecting on our past selves, being intent on our\npresent thoughts, and in sound sleep having no thoughts at all, or at\nleast none with that consciousness which remarks our waking thoughts,\u2014I\nsay, in all these cases, our consciousness being interrupted, and we\nlosing the sight of our past selves, doubts are raised whether we are\nthe same thinking thing, i.e. the same SUBSTANCE or no. Which, however\nreasonable or unreasonable, concerns not PERSONAL identity at all. The\nquestion being what makes the same person; and not whether it be the\nsame identical substance, which always thinks in the same person,\nwhich, in this case, matters not at all: different substances, by the\nsame consciousness (where they do partake in it) being united into one\nperson, as well as different bodies by the same life are united into\none animal, whose identity is preserved in that change of substances by\nthe unity of one continued life. For, it being the same consciousness\nthat makes a man be himself to himself, personal identity depends on\nthat only, whether it be annexed solely to one individual substance, or\ncan be continued in a succession of several substances. For as far as\nany intelligent being CAN repeat the idea of any past action with the\nsame consciousness it had of it at first, and with the same\nconsciousness it has of any present action; so far it is the same\npersonal self. For it is by the consciousness it has of its present\nthoughts and actions, that it is SELF TO ITSELF now, and so will be the\nsame self, as far as the same consciousness can extend to actions past\nor to come; and would be by distance of time, or change of substance,\nno more two persons, than a man be two men by wearing other clothes\nto-day than he did yesterday, with a long or a short sleep between: the\nsame consciousness uniting those distant actions into the same person,\nwhatever substances contributed to their production.\n\n13. Personal Identity in Change of Substance.\n\nThat this is so, we have some kind of evidence in our very bodies, all\nwhose particles, whilst vitally united to this same thinking conscious\nself, so that WE FEEL when they are touched, and are affected by, and\nconscious of good or harm that happens to them, are a part of\nourselves; i.e. of our thinking conscious self. Thus, the limbs of his\nbody are to every one a part of himself; he sympathizes and is\nconcerned for them. Cut off a hand, and thereby separate it from that\nconsciousness he had of its heat, cold, and other affections, and it is\nthen no longer a part of that which is himself, any more than the\nremotest part of matter. Thus, we see the SUBSTANCE whereof personal\nself consisted at one time may be varied at another, without the change\nof personal identity; there being no question about the same person,\nthough the limbs which but now were a part of it, be cut off.\n\n14. Personality in Change of Substance.\n\nBut the question is, Whether if the same substance which thinks be\nchanged, it can be the same person; or, remaining the same, it can be\ndifferent persons?\n\nAnd to this I answer: First, This can be no question at all to those\nwho place thought in a purely material animal constitution, void of an\nimmaterial substance. For, whether their supposition be true or no, it\nis plain they conceive personal identity preserved in something else\nthan identity of substance; as animal identity is preserved in identity\nof life, and not of substance. And therefore those who place thinking\nin an immaterial substance only, before they can come to deal with\nthese men, must show why personal identity cannot be preserved in the\nchange of immaterial substances, or variety of particular immaterial\nsubstances, as well as animal identity is preserved in the change of\nmaterial substances, or variety of particular bodies: unless they will\nsay, it is one immaterial spirit that makes the same life in brutes, as\nit is one immaterial spirit that makes the same person in men; which\nthe Cartesians at least will not admit, for fear of making brutes\nthinking things too.\n\n15. Whether in Change of thinking Substances there can be one Person.\n\nBut next, as to the first part of the question, Whether, if the same\nthinking substance (supposing immaterial substances only to think) be\nchanged, it can be the same person? I answer, that cannot be resolved\nbut by those who know there can what kind of substances they are that\ndo think; and whether the consciousness of past actions can be\ntransferred from one thinking substance to another. I grant were the\nsame consciousness the same individual action it could not: but it\nbeing a present representation of a past action, why it may not be\npossible, that that may be represented to the mind to have been which\nreally never was, will remain to be shown. And therefore how far the\nconsciousness of past actions is annexed to any individual agent, so\nthat another cannot possibly have it, will be hard for us to determine,\ntill we know what kind of action it is that cannot be done without a\nreflex act of perception accompanying it, and how performed by thinking\nsubstances, who cannot think without being conscious of it. But that\nwhich we call the same consciousness, not being the same individual\nact, why one intellectual substance may not have represented to it, as\ndone by itself, what IT never did, and was perhaps done by some other\nagent\u2014why, I say, such a representation may not possibly be without\nreality of matter of fact, as well as several representations in dreams\nare, which yet whilst dreaming we take for true\u2014will be difficult to\nconclude from the nature of things. And that it never is so, will by\nus, till we have clearer views of the nature of thinking substances, be\nbest resolved into the goodness of God; who, as far as the happiness or\nmisery of any of his sensible creatures is concerned in it, will not,\nby a fatal error of theirs, transfer from one to another that\nconsciousness which draws reward or punishment with it. How far this\nmay be an argument against those who would place thinking in a system\nof fleeting animal spirits, I leave to be considered. But yet, to\nreturn to the question before us, it must be allowed, that, if the same\nconsciousness (which, as has been shown, is quite a different thing\nfrom the same numerical figure or motion in body) can be transferred\nfrom one thinking substance to another, it will be possible that two\nthinking substances may make but one person. For the same consciousness\nbeing preserved, whether in the same or different substances, the\npersonal identity is preserved.\n\n16. Whether, the same immaterial Substance remaining, there can be two\nPersons.\n\nAs to the second part of the question, Whether the same immaterial\nsubstance remaining, there may be two distinct persons; which question\nseems to me to be built on this,\u2014Whether the same immaterial being,\nbeing conscious of the action of its past duration, may be wholly\nstripped of all the consciousness of its past existence, and lose it\nbeyond the power of ever retrieving it again: and so as it were\nbeginning a new account from a new period, have a consciousness that\nCANNOT reach beyond this new state. All those who hold pre-existence\nare evidently of this mind; since they allow the soul to have no\nremaining consciousness of what it did in that pre-existent state,\neither wholly separate from body, or informing any other body; and if\nthey should not, it is plain experience would be against them. So that\npersonal identity, reaching no further than consciousness reaches, a\npre-existent spirit not having continued so many ages in a state of\nsilence, must needs make different persons. Suppose a Christian\nPlatonist or a Pythagorean should, upon God\u2019s having ended all his\nworks of creation the seventh day, think his soul hath existed ever\nsince; and should imagine it has revolved in several human bodies; as I\nonce met with one, who was persuaded his had been the SOUL of Socrates\n(how reasonably I will not dispute; this I know, that in the post he\nfilled, which was no inconsiderable one, he passed for a very rational\nman, and the press has shown that he wanted not parts or\nlearning;)\u2014would any one say, that he, being not conscious of any of\nSocrates\u2019s actions or thoughts, could be the same PERSON with Socrates?\nLet any one reflect upon himself, and conclude that he has in himself\nan immaterial spirit, which is that which thinks in him, and, in the\nconstant change of his body keeps him the same: and is that which he\ncalls HIMSELF: let him also suppose it to be the same soul that was in\nNestor or Thersites, at the siege of Troy, (for souls being, as far as\nwe know anything of them, in their nature indifferent to any parcel of\nmatter, the supposition has no apparent absurdity in it,) which it may\nhave been, as well as it is now the soul of any other man: but he now\nhaving no consciousness of any of the actions either of Nestor or\nThersites, does or can he conceive himself the same person with either\nof them? Can he be concerned in either of their actions? attribute them\nto himself, or think them his own more than the actions of any other\nmen that ever existed? So that this consciousness, not reaching to any\nof the actions of either of those men, he is no more one SELF with\neither of them than of the soul of immaterial spirit that now informs\nhim had been created, and began to exist, when it began to inform his\npresent body; though it were never so true, that the same SPIRIT that\ninformed Nestor\u2019s or Thersites\u2019 body were numerically the same that now\ninforms his. For this would no more make him the same person with\nNestor, than if some of the particles of smaller that were once a part\nof Nestor were now a part of this man the same immaterial substance,\nwithout the same consciousness, no more making the same person, by\nbeing united to any body, than the same particle of matter, without\nconsciousness, united to any body, makes the same person. But let him\nonce find himself conscious of any of the actions of Nestor, he then\nfinds himself the same person with Nestor.\n\n17. The body, as well as the soul, goes to the making of a Man.\n\nAnd thus may we be able, without any difficulty, to conceive the same\nperson at the resurrection, though in a body not exactly in make or\nparts the same which he had here,\u2014the same consciousness going along\nwith the soul that inhabits it. But yet the soul alone, in the change\nof bodies, would scarce to any one but to him that makes the soul the\nman, be enough to make the same man. For should the soul of a prince,\ncarrying with it the consciousness of the prince\u2019s past life, enter and\ninform the body of a cobbler, as soon as deserted by his own soul,\nevery one sees he would be the same PERSON with the prince, accountable\nonly for the prince\u2019s actions: but who would say it was the same MAN?\nThe body too goes to the making the man, and would, I guess, to\neverybody determine the man in this case, wherein the soul, with all\nits princely thoughts about it, would not make another man: but he\nwould be the same cobbler to every one besides himself. I know that, in\nthe ordinary way of speaking, the same person, and the same man, stand\nfor one and the same thing. And indeed every one will always have a\nliberty to speak as he pleases, and to apply what articulate sounds to\nwhat ideas he thinks fit, and change them as often as he pleases. But\nyet, when we will inquire what makes the same SPIRIT, MAN, or PERSON,\nwe must fix the ideas of spirit, man, or person in our minds; and\nhaving resolved with ourselves what we mean by them, it will not be\nhard to determine, in either of them, or the like, when it is the same,\nand when not.\n\n18. Consciousness alone unites actions into the same Person.\n\nBut though the same immaterial substance or soul does not alone,\nwherever it be, and in whatsoever state, make the same MAN; yet it is\nplain, consciousness, as far as ever it can be extended\u2014should it be to\nages past\u2014unites existences and actions very remote in time into the\nsame PERSON, as well as it does the existences and actions of the\nimmediately preceding moment: so that whatever has the consciousness of\npresent and past actions, is the same person to whom they both belong.\nHad I the same consciousness that I saw the ark and Noah\u2019s flood, as\nthat I saw an overflowing of the Thames last winter, or as that I write\nnow, I could no more doubt that I who write this now, that saw the\nThames overflowed last winter, and that viewed the flood at the general\ndeluge, was the same SELF,\u2014place that self in what SUBSTANCE you\nplease\u2014than that I who write this am the same MYSELF now whilst I write\n(whether I consist of all the same substance material or immaterial, or\nno) that I was yesterday. For as to this point of being the same self,\nit matters not whether this present self be made up of the same or\nother substances\u2014I being as much concerned, and as justly accountable\nfor any action that was done a thousand years since, appropriated to me\nnow by this self-consciousness, as I am for what I did the last moment.\n\n19. Self depends on Consciousness, not on Substance.\n\nSELF is that conscious thinking thing,\u2014whatever substance made up of,\n(whether spiritual or material, simple or compounded, it matters\nnot)\u2014which is sensible or conscious of pleasure and pain, capable of\nhappiness or misery, and so is concerned for itself, as far as that\nconsciousness extends. Thus every one finds that, whilst comprehended\nunder that consciousness, the little finger is as much a part of\nhimself as what is most so. Upon separation of this little finger,\nshould this consciousness go along with the little finger, and leave\nthe rest of the body, it is evident the little finger would be the\nperson, the same person; and self then would have nothing to do with\nthe rest of the body. As in this case it is the consciousness that goes\nalong with the substance, when one part is separate from another, which\nmakes the same person, and constitutes this inseparable self: so it is\nin reference to substances remote in time. That with which the\nconsciousness of this present thinking thing CAN join itself, makes the\nsame person, and is one self with it, and with nothing else; and so\nattributes to itself, and owns all the actions of that thing, as its\nown, as far as that consciousness reaches, and no further; as every one\nwho reflects will perceive.\n\n20. Persons, not Substances, the Objects of Reward and Punishment.\n\nIn this personal identity is founded all the right and justice of\nreward and punishment; happiness and misery being that for which every\none is concerned for HIMSELF, and not mattering what becomes of any\nSUBSTANCE, not joined to, or affected with that consciousness. For, as\nit is evident in the instance I gave but now, if the consciousness went\nalong with the little finger when it was cut off, that would be the\nsame self which was concerned for the whole body yesterday, as making\npart of itself, whose actions then it cannot but admit as its own now.\nThough, if the same body should still live, and immediately from the\nseparation of the little finger have its own peculiar consciousness,\nwhereof the little finger knew nothing, it would not at all be\nconcerned for it, as a part of itself, or could own any of its actions,\nor have any of them imputed to him.\n\n21. Which shows wherein Personal identity consists.\n\nThis may show us wherein personal identity consists: not in the\nidentity of substance, but, as I have said, in the identity of\nconsciousness, wherein if Socrates and the present mayor of\nQueenborough agree, they are the same person: if the same Socrates\nwaking and sleeping do not partake of the same consciousness, Socrates\nwaking and sleeping is not the same person. And to punish Socrates\nwaking for what sleeping Socrates thought, and waking Socrates was\nnever conscious of, would be no more of right, than to punish one twin\nfor what his brother-twin did, whereof he knew nothing, because their\noutsides were so like, that they could not be distinguished; for such\ntwins have been seen.\n\n22. Absolute oblivion separates what is thus forgotten from the person,\nbut not from the man.\n\nBut yet possibly it will still be objected,\u2014Suppose I wholly lose the\nmemory of some parts of my life, beyond a possibility of retrieving\nthem, so that perhaps I shall never be conscious of them again; yet am\nI not the same person that did those actions, had those thoughts that I\nonce was conscious of, though I have now forgot them? To which I\nanswer, that we must here take notice what the word _I_ is applied to;\nwhich, in this case, is the MAN only. And the same man being presumed\nto be the same person, I is easily here supposed to stand also for the\nsame person. But if it be possible for the same man to have distinct\nincommunicable consciousness at different times, it is past doubt the\nsame man would at different times make different persons; which, we\nsee, is the sense of mankind in the solemnest declaration of their\nopinions, human laws not punishing the mad man for the sober man\u2019s\nactions, nor the sober man for what the mad man did,\u2014thereby making\nthem two persons: which is somewhat explained by our way of speaking in\nEnglish when we say such an one is \u2018not himself,\u2019 or is \u2018beside\nhimself\u2019; in which phrases it is insinuated, as if those who now, or at\nleast first used them, thought that self was changed; the selfsame\nperson was no longer in that man.\n\n23. Difference between Identity of Man and of Person.\n\nBut yet it is hard to conceive that Socrates, the same individual man,\nshould be two persons. To help us a little in this, we must consider\nwhat is meant by Socrates, or the same individual MAN.\n\nFirst, it must be either the same individual, immaterial, thinking\nsubstance; in short, the same numerical soul, and nothing else.\n\nSecondly, or the same animal, without any regard to an immaterial soul.\n\nThirdly, or the same immaterial spirit united to the same animal.\n\nNow, take which of these suppositions you please, it is impossible to\nmake personal identity to consist in anything but consciousness; or\nreach any further than that does.\n\nFor, by the first of them, it must be allowed possible that a man born\nof different women, and in distant times, may be the same man. A way of\nspeaking which, whoever admits, must allow it possible for the same man\nto be two distinct persons, as any two that have lived in different\nages without the knowledge of one another\u2019s thoughts.\n\nBy the second and third, Socrates, in this life and after it, cannot be\nthe same man any way, but by the same consciousness; and so making\nhuman identity to consist in the same thing wherein we place personal\nidentity, there will be difficulty to allow the same man to be the same\nperson. But then they who place human identity in consciousness only,\nand not in something else, must consider how they will make the infant\nSocrates the same man with Socrates after the resurrection. But\nwhatsoever to some men makes a man, and consequently the same\nindividual man, wherein perhaps few are agreed, personal identity can\nby us be placed in nothing but consciousness, (which is that alone\nwhich makes what we call SELF,) without involving us in great\nabsurdities.\n\n24.\n\nBut is not a man drunk and sober the same person? why else is he\npunished for the fact he commits when drunk, though he be never\nafterwards conscious of it? Just as much the same person as a man that\nwalks, and does other things in his sleep, is the same person, and is\nanswerable for any mischief he shall do in it. Human laws punish both,\nwith a justice suitable to THEIR way of knowledge;\u2014because, in these\ncases, they cannot distinguish certainly what is real, what\ncounterfeit: and so the ignorance in drunkenness or sleep is not\nadmitted as a plea. But in the Great Day, wherein the secrets of all\nhearts shall be laid open, it may be reasonable to think, no one shall\nbe made to answer for what he knows nothing of; but shall receive his\ndoom, his conscience accusing or excusing him.\n\n25. Consciousness alone unites remote existences into one Person.\n\nNothing but consciousness can unite remote existences into the same\nperson: the identity of substance will not do it; for whatever\nsubstance there is, however framed, without consciousness there is no\nperson: and a carcass may be a person, as well as any sort of substance\nbe so, without consciousness.\n\nCould we suppose two distinct incommunicable consciousnesses acting the\nsame body, the one constantly by day, the other by night; and, on the\nother side, the same consciousness, acting by intervals, two distinct\nbodies: I ask, in the first case, whether the day and the night\u2014man\nwould not be two as distinct persons as Socrates and Plato? And\nwhether, in the second case, there would not be one person in two\ndistinct bodies, as much as one man is the same in two distinct\nclothings? Nor is it at all material to say, that this same, and this\ndistinct consciousness, in the cases above mentioned, is owing to the\nsame and distinct immaterial substances, bringing it with them to those\nbodies; which, whether true or no, alters not the case: since it is\nevident the personal identity would equally be determined by the\nconsciousness, whether that consciousness were annexed to some\nindividual immaterial substance or no. For, granting that the thinking\nsubstance in man must be necessarily supposed immaterial, it is evident\nthat immaterial thinking thing may sometimes part with its past\nconsciousness, and be restored to it again: as appears in the\nforgetfulness men often have of their past actions; and the mind many\ntimes recovers the memory of a past consciousness, which it had lost\nfor twenty years together. Make these intervals of memory and\nforgetfulness to take their turns regularly by day and night, and you\nhave two persons with the same immaterial spirit, as much as in the\nformer instance two persons with the same body. So that self is not\ndetermined by identity or diversity of substance, which it cannot be\nsure of, but only by identity of consciousness.\n\n26. Not the substance with which the consciousness may be united.\n\nIndeed it may conceive the substance whereof it is now made up to have\nexisted formerly, united in the same conscious being: but,\nconsciousness removed, that substance is no more itself, or makes no\nmore a part of it, than any other substance; as is evident in the\ninstance we have already given of a limb cut off, of whose heat, or\ncold, or other affections, having no longer any consciousness, it is no\nmore of a man\u2019s self than any other matter of the universe. In like\nmanner it will be in reference to any immaterial substance, which is\nvoid of that consciousness whereby I am myself to myself: so that I\ncannot upon recollection join with that present consciousness whereby I\nam now myself, it is, in that part of its existence, no more MYSELF\nthan any other immaterial being. For, whatsoever any substance has\nthought or done, which I cannot recollect, and by my consciousness make\nmy own thought and action, it will no more belong to me, whether a part\nof me thought or did it, than if it had been thought or done by any\nother immaterial being anywhere existing.\n\n27. Consciousness unites substances, material or spiritual, with the\nsame personality.\n\nI agree, the more probable opinion is, that this consciousness is\nannexed to, and the affection of, one individual immaterial substance.\n\nBut let men, according to their diverse hypotheses, resolve of that as\nthey please. This every intelligent being, sensible of happiness or\nmisery, must grant\u2014that there is something that is HIMSELF, that he is\nconcerned for, and would have happy; that this self has existed in a\ncontinued duration more than one instant, and therefore it is possible\nmay exist, as it has done, months and years to come, without any\ncertain bounds to be set to its duration; and may be the same self, by\nthe same consciousness continued on for the future. And thus, by this\nconsciousness he finds himself to be the same self which did such and\nsuch an action some years since, by which he comes to be happy or\nmiserable now. In all which account of self, the same numerical\nSUBSTANCE is not considered a making the same self; but the same\ncontinued CONSCIOUSNESS, in which several substances may have been\nunited, and again separated from it, which, whilst they continued in a\nvital union with that wherein this consciousness then resided, made a\npart of that same self. Thus any part of our bodies, vitally united to\nthat which is conscious in us, makes a part of ourselves: but upon\nseparation from the vital union by which that consciousness is\ncommunicated, that which a moment since was part of ourselves, is now\nno more so than a part of another man\u2019s self is a part of me: and it is\nnot impossible but in a little time may become a real part of another\nperson. And so we have the same numerical substance become a part of\ntwo different persons; and the same person preserved under the change\nof various substances. Could we suppose any spirit wholly stripped of\nall its memory of consciousness of past actions, as we find our minds\nalways are of a great part of ours, and sometimes of them all; the\nunion or separation of such a spiritual substance would make no\nvariation of personal identity, any more than that of any particle of\nmatter does. Any substance vitally united to the present thinking being\nis a part of that very same self which now is; anything united to it by\na consciousness of former actions, makes also a part of the same self,\nwhich is the same both then and now.\n\n28. Person a forensic Term.\n\nPERSON, as I take it, is the name for this self. Wherever a man finds\nwhat he calls himself, there, I think, another may say is the same\nperson. It is a forensic term, appropriating actions and their merit;\nand so belongs only to intelligent agents, capable of a law, and\nhappiness, and misery. This personality extends itself beyond present\nexistence to what is past, only by consciousness,\u2014whereby it becomes\nconcerned and accountable; owns and imputes to itself past actions,\njust upon the same ground and for the same reason as it does the\npresent. All which is founded in a concern for happiness, the\nunavoidable concomitant of consciousness; that which is conscious of\npleasure and pain, desiring that that self that is conscious should be\nhappy. And therefore whatever past actions it cannot reconcile or\nAPPROPRIATE to that present self by consciousness, it can be no more\nconcerned in than if they had never been done: and to receive pleasure\nor pain, i.e. reward or punishment, on the account of any such action,\nis all one as to be made happy or miserable in its first being, without\nany demerit at all. For, supposing a MAN punished now for what he had\ndone in another life, whereof he could be made to have no consciousness\nat all, what difference is there between that punishment and being\nCREATED miserable? And therefore, conformable to this, the apostle\ntells us, that, at the great day, when every one shall \u2018receive\naccording to his doings, the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open.\u2019\nThe sentence shall be justified by the consciousness all persons shall\nhave, that THEY THEMSELVES, in what bodies soever they appear, or what\nsubstances soever that consciousness adheres to, are the SAME that\ncommitted those actions, and deserve that punishment for them.\n\n29. Suppositions that look strange are pardonable in our ignorance.\n\nI am apt enough to think I have, in treating of this subject, made some\nsuppositions that will look strange to some readers, and possibly they\nare so in themselves. But yet, I think they are such as are pardonable,\nin this ignorance we are in of the nature of that thinking thing that\nis in us, and which we look on as OURSELVES. Did we know what it was;\nor how it was tied to a certain system of fleeting animal spirits; or\nwhether it could or could not perform its operations of thinking and\nmemory out of a body organized as ours is; and whether it has pleased\nGod that no one such spirit shall ever be united to any but one such\nbody, upon the right constitution of whose organs its memory should\ndepend; we might see the absurdity of some of those suppositions I have\nmade. But taking, as we ordinarily now do (in the dark concerning these\nmatters,) the soul of a man for an immaterial substance, independent\nfrom matter, and indifferent alike to it all; there can, from the\nnature of things, be no absurdity at all to suppose that the same SOUL\nmay at different times be united to different BODIES, and with them\nmake up for that time one MAN: as well as we suppose a part of a\nsheep\u2019s body yesterday should be a part of a man\u2019s body to-morrow, and\nin that union make a vital part of Meliboeus himself, as well as it did\nof his ram.\n\n30. The Difficulty from ill Use of Names.\n\nTo conclude: Whatever substance begins to exist, it must, during its\nexistence, necessarily be the same: whatever compositions of substances\nbegin to exist, during the union of those substances, the concrete must\nbe the same: whatsoever mode begins to exist, during its existence it\nis the same: and so if the composition be of distinct substances and\ndifferent modes, the same rule holds. Whereby it will appear, that the\ndifficulty or obscurity that has been about this matter rather rises\nfrom the names ill-used, than from any obscurity in things themselves.\nFor whatever makes the specific idea to which the name is applied, if\nthat idea be steadily kept to, the distinction of anything into the\nsame and divers will easily be conceived, and there can arise no doubt\nabout it.\n\n31. Continuance of that which we have made to be our complex idea of\nman makes the same man.\n\nFor, supposing a rational spirit be the idea of a MAN, it is easy to\nknow what is the same man, viz. the same spirit\u2014whether separate or in\na body\u2014will be the SAME MAN. Supposing a rational spirit vitally united\nto a body of a certain conformation of parts to make a man; whilst that\nrational spirit, with that vital conformation of parts, though\ncontinued in a fleeting successive body, remains, it will be the SAME\nMAN. But if to any one the idea of a man be but the vital union of\nparts in a certain shape; as long as that vital union and shape remain\nin a concrete, no otherwise the same but by a continued succession of\nfleeting particles, it will be the SAME MAN. For, whatever be the\ncomposition whereof the complex idea is made, whenever existence makes\nit one particular thing under any denomination, THE SAME EXISTENCE\nCONTINUED preserves it the SAME individual under the same denomination.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXVIII.\nOF OTHER RELATIONS.\n\n\n1. Ideas of Proportional relations.\n\nBESIDES the before-mentioned occasions of time, place, and causality of\ncomparing or referring things one to another, there are, as I have\nsaid, infinite others, some whereof I shall mention.\n\nFirst, The first I shall name is some one simple idea, which, being\ncapable of parts or degrees, affords an occasion of comparing the\nsubjects wherein it is to one another, in respect of that simple idea,\nv.g. whiter, sweeter, equal, more, &c. These relations depending on the\nequality and excess of the same simple idea, in several subjects, may\nbe called, if one will, PROPORTIONAL; and that these are only\nconversant about those simple ideas received from sensation or\nreflection is so evident that nothing need be said to evince it.\n\n2. Natural relation.\n\nSecondly, Another occasion of comparing things together, or considering\none thing, so as to include in that consideration some other thing, is\nthe circumstances of their origin or beginning; which being not\nafterwards to be altered, make the relations depending thereon as\nlasting as the subjects to which they belong, v.g. father and son,\nbrothers, cousin-germans, &c., which have their relations by one\ncommunity of blood, wherein they partake in several degrees:\ncountrymen, i.e. those who were born in the same country or tract of\nground; and these I call NATURAL RELATIONS: wherein we may observe,\nthat mankind have fitted their notions and words to the use of common\nlife, and not to the truth and extent of things. For it is certain,\nthat, in reality, the relation is the same betwixt the begetter and the\nbegotten, in the several races of other animals as well as men; but yet\nit is seldom said, this bull is the grandfather of such a calf, or that\ntwo pigeons are cousin-germans. It is very convenient that, by distinct\nnames, these relations should be observed and marked out in mankind,\nthere being occasion, both in laws and other communications one with\nanother, to mention and take notice of men under these relations: from\nwhence also arise the obligations of several duties amongst men:\nwhereas, in brutes, men having very little or no cause to mind these\nrelations, they have not thought fit to give them distinct and peculiar\nnames. This, by the way, may give us some light into the different\nstate and growth of languages; which being suited only to the\nconvenience of communication, are proportioned to the notions men have,\nand the commerce of thoughts familiar amongst them; and not to the\nreality or extent of things, nor to the various respects might be found\namong them; nor the different abstract considerations might be framed\nabout them. Where they had no philosophical notions, there they had no\nterms to express them: and it is no wonder men should have framed no\nnames for those things they found no occasion to discourse of. From\nwhence it is easy to imagine why, as in some countries, they may have\nnot so much as the name for a horse; and in others, where they are more\ncareful of the pedigrees of their horses, than of their own, that there\nthey may have not only names for particular horses, but also of their\nseveral relations of kindred one to another.\n\n3. Ideas of Instituted or Voluntary relations.\n\nThirdly, Sometimes the foundation of considering things with reference\nto one another, is some act whereby any one comes by a moral right,\npower, or obligation to do something. Thus, a general is one that hath\npower to command an army, and an army under a general is a collection\nof armed men obliged to obey one man. A citizen, or a burgher, is one\nwho has a right to certain privileges in this or that place. All this\nsort depending upon men\u2019s wills, or agreement in society, I call\nINSTITUTED, or VOLUNTARY; and may be distinguished from the natural, in\nthat they are most, if not all of them, some way or other alterable,\nand separable from the persons to whom they have sometimes belonged,\nthough neither of the substances, so related, be destroyed. Now, though\nthese are all reciprocal, as well as the rest, and contain in them a\nreference of two things one to the other; yet, because one of the two\nthings often wants a relative name, importing that reference, men\nusually take no notice of it, and the relation is commonly overlooked:\nv. g. a patron and client are easily allowed to be relations, but a\nconstable or dictator are not so readily at first hearing considered as\nsuch. Because there is no peculiar name for those who are under the\ncommand of a dictator or constable, expressing a relation to either of\nthem; though it be certain that either of them hath a certain power\nover some others, and so is so far related to them, as well as a patron\nis to his client, or general to his army.\n\n4. Ideas of Moral relations.\n\nFourthly, There is another sort of relation, which is the conformity or\ndisagreement men\u2019s VOLUNTARY ACTIONS have to a RULE to which they are\nreferred, and by which they are judged of; which, I think, may be\ncalled MORAL RELATION, as being that which denominates our moral\nactions, and deserves well to be examined; there being no part of\nknowledge wherein we should be more careful to get determined ideas,\nand avoid, as much as may be, obscurity and confusion. Human actions,\nwhen with their various ends, objects, manners, and circumstances, they\nare framed into distinct complex ideas, are, as has been shown, so many\nMIXED MODES, a great part whereof have names annexed to them. Thus,\nsupposing gratitude to be a readiness to acknowledge and return\nkindness received; polygamy to be the having more wives than one at\nonce: when we frame these notions thus in our minds, we have there so\nmany determined ideas of mixed modes. But this is not all that concerns\nour actions: it is not enough to have determined ideas of them, and to\nknow what names belong to such and such combinations of ideas. We have\na further and greater concernment, and that is, to know whether such\nactions, so made up, are morally good or bad.\n\n5. Moral Good and Evil.\n\nGood and evil, as hath been shown, (B. II. chap. xx. Section 2, and\nchap. xxi. Section 43,) are nothing but pleasure or pain, or that which\noccasions or procures pleasure or pain to us. MORAL GOOD AND EVIL,\nthen, is only THE CONFORMITY OR DISAGREEMENT OF OUR VOLUNTARY ACTIONS\nTO SOME LAW, WHEREBY GOOD OR EVIL IS DRAWN ON US, FROM THE WILL AND\nPOWER OF THE LAW-MAKER; which good and evil, pleasure or pain,\nattending our observance or breach of the law by the decree of the\nlaw-maker, is that we call REWARD and PUNISHMENT.\n\n6. Moral Rules.\n\nOf these moral rules or laws, to which men generally refer, and by\nwhich they judge of the rectitude or gravity of their actions, there\nseem to me to be THREE SORTS, with their three different enforcements,\nor rewards and punishments. For, since it would be utterly in vain to\nsuppose a rule set to the free actions of men, without annexing to it\nsome enforcement of good and evil to determine his will, we must,\nwherever we suppose a law, suppose also some reward or punishment\nannexed to that law. It would be in vain for one intelligent being to\nset a rule to the actions of another, if he had it not in his power to\nreward the compliance with, and punish deviation from his rule, by some\ngood and evil, that is not the natural product and consequence of the\naction itself. For that, being a natural convenience or inconvenience,\nwould operate of itself, without a law. This, if I mistake not, is the\ntrue nature of all law, properly so called.\n\n7. Laws.\n\nThe laws that men generally refer their actions to, to judge of their\nrectitude or obliquity, seem to me to be these three:\u20141. The DIVINE\nlaw. 2. The CIVIL law. 3. The law of OPINION or REPUTATION, if I may so\ncall it. By the relation they bear to the first of these, men judge\nwhether their actions are sins or duties; by the second, whether they\nbe criminal or innocent; and by the third, whether they be virtues or\nvices.\n\n8. Divine Law the Measure of Sin and Duty.\n\nFirst, the DIVINE LAW, whereby that law which God has set to the\nactions of men,\u2014whether promulgated to them by the light of nature, or\nthe voice of revelation. That God has given a rule whereby men should\ngovern themselves, I think there is nobody so brutish as to deny. He\nhas a right to do it; we are his creatures: he has goodness and wisdom\nto direct our actions to that which is best: and he has power to\nenforce it by rewards and punishments of infinite weight and duration\nin another life; for nobody can take us out of his hands. This is the\nonly true touchstone of moral rectitude; and, by comparing them to this\nlaw, it is that men judge of the most considerable moral good or evil\nof their actions; that is, whether, as duties or sins, they are like to\nprocure them happiness or misery from the hands of the ALMIGHTY.\n\n9. Civil Law the Measure of Crimes and Innocence.\n\nSecondly, the CIVIL LAW\u2014the rule set by the commonwealth to the actions\nof those who belong to it\u2014is another rule to which men refer their\nactions; to judge whether they be criminal or no. This law nobody\noverlooks: the rewards and punishments that enforce it being ready at\nhand, and suitable to the power that makes it: which is the force of\nthe Commonwealth, engaged to protect the lives, liberties, and\npossessions of those who live according to its laws, and has power to\ntake away life, liberty, or goods, from him who disobeys; which is the\npunishment of offences committed against his law.\n\n10. Philosophical Law the Measure of Virtue and Vice.\n\nThirdly, the LAW OF OPINION OR REPUTATION. Virtue and vice are names\npretended and supposed everywhere to stand for actions in their own\nnature right and wrong: and as far as they really are so applied, they\nso far are coincident with the divine law above mentioned. But yet,\nwhatever is pretended, this is visible, that these names, virtue and\nvice, in the particular instances of their application, through the\nseveral nations and societies of men in the world, are constantly\nattributed only to such actions as in each country and society are in\nreputation or discredit. Nor is it to be thought strange, that men\neverywhere should give the name of virtue to those actions, which\namongst them are judged praiseworthy; and call that vice, which they\naccount blamable: since otherwise they would condemn themselves, if\nthey should think anything right, to which they allowed not\ncommendation, anything wrong, which they let pass without blame. Thus\nthe measure of what is everywhere called and esteemed virtue and vice\nis this approbation or dislike, praise or blame, which, by a secret and\ntacit consent, establishes itself in the several societies, tribes, and\nclubs of men in the world: whereby several actions come to find credit\nor disgrace amongst them, according to the judgment, maxims, or fashion\nof that place. For, though men uniting into politic societies, have\nresigned up to the public the disposing of all their force, so that\nthey cannot employ it against any fellow-citizens any further than the\nlaw of the country directs: yet they retain still the power of thinking\nwell or ill, approving or disapproving of the actions of those whom\nthey live amongst, and converse with: and by this approbation and\ndislike they establish amongst themselves what they will call virtue\nand vice.\n\n11. The Measure that Man commonly apply to determine what they call\nVirtue and Vice.\n\nThat this is the common MEASURE of virtue and vice, will appear to any\none who considers, that, though that passes for vice in one country\nwhich is counted a virtue, or at least not vice, in another, yet\neverywhere virtue and praise, vice and blame, go together. Virtue is\neverywhere, that which is thought praiseworthy; and nothing else but\nthat which has the allowance of public esteem is called virtue. Virtue\nand praise are so united, that they are called often by the same name.\nSunt sua praemia laudi, says Virgil; and so Cicero, Nihil habet natura\npraestantius, quam honestatem, quam laudem, quam dignitatem, quam\ndecus, which he tells you are all names for the same thing. This is the\nlanguage of the heathen philosophers, who well understood wherein their\nnotions of virtue and vice consisted. And though perhaps, by the\ndifferent temper, education, fashion, maxims, or interest of different\nsorts of men, it fell out, that what was thought praiseworthy in one\nplace, escaped not censure in another; and so in different societies,\nvirtues and vices were changed; yet, as to the main, they for the most\npart kept the same everywhere. For, since nothing can be more natural\nthan to encourage with esteem and reputation that wherein every one\nfinds his advantage, and to blame and discountenance the contrary; it\nis no wonder that esteem and discredit, virtue and vice, should, in a\ngreat measure, everywhere correspond with the unchangeable rule of\nright and wrong, which the law of God hath established; there being\nnothing that so directly and visibly secures and advances the general\ngood of mankind in this world, as obedience to the laws he had set\nthem, and nothing that breeds such mischiefs and confusion, as the\nneglect of them. And therefore men, without renouncing all sense and\nreason, and their own interest, which they are so constantly true to,\ncould not generally mistake, in placing their commendation and blame on\nthat side that really deserved it not. Nay, even those men whose\npractice was otherwise, failed not to give their approbation right, few\nbeing depraved to that degree as not to condemn, at least in others,\nthe faults they themselves were guilty of; whereby, even in the\ncorruption of manners, the true boundaries of the law of nature, which\nought to be the rule of virtue and vice, were pretty well preferred. So\nthat even the exhortations of inspired teachers, have not feared to\nappeal to common repute: \u2018Whatsoever is lovely, whatsoever is of good\nreport, if there be any virtue, if there be any praise,\u2019 &c. (Phil. iv.\n8.)\n\n12. Its Inforcement is Commendation and Discredit.\n\nIf any one shall imagine that I have forgot my own notion of a law,\nwhen I make the law, whereby men judge of virtue and vice, to be\nnothing else but the consent of private men, who have not authority\nenough to make a law: especially wanting that which is so necessary and\nessential to a law, a power to enforce it: I think I may say, that he\nwho imagines commendation and disgrace not to be strong motives to men\nto accommodate themselves to the opinions and rules of those with whom\nthey converse, seems little skilled in the nature or history of\nmankind: the greatest part whereof we shall find to govern themselves\nchiefly, if not solely, by this LAW OF FASHION; and so they do that\nwhich keeps them in reputation with their company, little regard the\nlaws of God, or the magistrate. The penalties that attend the breach of\nGod\u2019s laws some, nay perhaps most men, seldom seriously reflect on: and\namongst those that do, many, whilst they break the law, entertain\nthoughts of future reconciliation, and making their peace for such\nbreaches. And as to the punishments due from the laws of the\ncommonwealth, they frequently flatter themselves with the hopes of\nimpunity. But no man escapes the punishment of their censure and\ndislike, who offends against the fashion and opinion of the company he\nkeeps, and would recommend himself to. Nor is there one of ten\nthousand, who is stiff and insensible enough, to bear up under the\nconstant dislike and condemnation of his own club. He must be of a\nstrange and unusual constitution, who can content himself to live in\nconstant disgrace and disrepute with his own particular society.\nSolitude many men have sought, and been reconciled to: but nobody that\nhas the least thought or sense of a man about him, can live in society\nunder the constant dislike and ill opinion of his familiars, and those\nhe converses with. This is a burden too heavy for human sufferance: and\nhe must be made up of irreconcileable contradictions, who can take\npleasure in company, and yet be insensible of contempt and disgrace\nfrom his companions.\n\n13. These three Laws the Rules of moral Good and Evil.\n\nThese three then, first, the law of God; secondly, the law of politic\nsocieties; thirdly, the law of fashion, or private censure, are those\nto which men variously compare their actions: and it is by their\nconformity to one of these laws that they take their measures, when\nthey would judge of their moral rectitude, and denominate their actions\ngood or bad.\n\n14. Morality is the Relation of Voluntary Actions to these Rules.\n\nWhether the rule to which, as to a touchstone, we bring our voluntary\nactions, to examine them by, and try their goodness, and accordingly to\nname them, which is, as it were, the mark of the value we set upon\nthem: whether, I say, we take that rule from the fashion of the\ncountry, or the will of a law-maker, the mind is easily able to observe\nthe relation any action hath to it, and to judge whether the action\nagrees or disagrees with the rule; and so hath a notion of moral\ngoodness or evil, which is either conformity or not conformity of any\naction to that rule: and therefore is often called moral rectitude.\nThis rule being nothing but a collection of several simple ideas, the\nconformity thereto is but so ordering the action, that the simple ideas\nbelonging to it may correspond to those which the law requires. And\nthus we see how moral beings and notions are founded on, and terminated\nin, these simple ideas we have received from sensation or reflection.\nFor example: let us consider the complex idea we signify by the word\nmurder: and when we have taken it asunder, and examined all the\nparticulars, we shall find them to amount to a collection of simple\nideas derived from reflection or sensation, viz. First, from REFLECTION\non the operations of our own minds, we have the ideas of willing,\nconsidering, purposing beforehand, malice, or wishing ill to another;\nand also of life, or perception, and self-motion. Secondly, from\nSENSATION we have the collection of those simple sensible ideas which\nare to be found in a man, and of some action, whereby we put an end to\nperception and motion in the man; all which simple ideas are\ncomprehended in the word murder. This collection of simple ideas, being\nfound by me to agree or disagree with the esteem of the country I have\nbeen bred in, and to be held by most men there worthy praise or blame,\nI call the action virtuous or vicious: if I have the will of a supreme\ninvisible Lawgiver for my rule, then, as I supposed the action\ncommanded or forbidden by God, I call it good or evil, sin or duty: and\nif I compare it to the civil law, the rule made by the legislative\npower of the country, I call it lawful or unlawful, a crime or no\ncrime. So that whencesoever we take the rule of moral actions; or by\nwhat standard soever we frame in our minds the ideas of virtues or\nvices, they consist only, and are made up of collections of simple\nideas, which we originally received from sense or reflection: and their\nrectitude or obliquity consists in the agreement or disagreement with\nthose patterns prescribed by some law.\n\n15. Moral actions may be regarded either absolutely, or as ideas of\nrelation.\n\nTo conceive rightly of moral actions, we must take notice of them under\nthis two-fold consideration. First, as they are in themselves, each\nmade up of such a collection of simple ideas. Thus drunkenness, or\nlying, signify such or such a collection of simple ideas, which I call\nmixed modes: and in this sense they are as much POSITIVE ABSOLUTE\nideas, as the drinking of a horse, or speaking of a parrot. Secondly,\nour actions are considered as good, bad, or indifferent; and in this\nrespect they are RELATIVE, it being their conformity to, or\ndisagreement with some rule that makes them to be regular or irregular,\ngood or bad; and so, as far as they are compared with a rule, and\nthereupon denominated, they come under relation. Thus the challenging\nand fighting with a man, as it is a certain positive mode, or\nparticular sort of action, by particular ideas, distinguished from all\nothers, is called DUELLING: which, when considered in relation to the\nlaw of God, will deserve the name of sin; to the law of fashion, in\nsome countries, valour and virtue; and to the municipal laws of some\ngovernments, a capital crime. In this case, when the positive mode has\none name, and another name as it stands in relation to the law, the\ndistinction may as easily be observed as it is in substances, where one\nname, v.g. MAN, is used to signify the thing; another, v.g. FATHER, to\nsignify the relation.\n\n16. The Denominations of Actions often mislead us.\n\nBut because very frequently the positive idea of the action, and its\nmoral relation, are comprehended together under one name, and the same\nword made use of to express both the mode or action, and its moral\nrectitude or obliquity: therefore the relation itself is less taken\nnotice of; and there is often no distinction made between the positive\nidea of the action, and the reference it has to a rule. By which\nconfusion of these two distinct considerations under one term, those\nwho yield too easily to the impressions of sounds, and are forward to\ntake names for things, are often misled in their judgment of actions.\nThus, the taking from another what is his, without his knowledge or\nallowance, is properly called STEALING: but that name, being commonly\nunderstood to signify also the moral gravity of the action, and to\ndenote its contrariety to the law, men are apt to condemn whatever they\nhear called stealing, as an ill action, disagreeing with the rule of\nright. And yet the private taking away his sword from a madman, to\nprevent his doing mischief, though it be properly denominated stealing,\nas the name of such a mixed mode; yet when compared to the law of God,\nand considered in its relation to that supreme rule, it is no sin or\ntransgression, though the name stealing ordinarily carries such an\nintimation with it.\n\n17. Relations innumerable, and only the most considerable here\nmentioned.\n\nAnd thus much for the relation of human actions to a law, which,\ntherefore, I call MORAL RELATIONS.\n\nIt would make a volume to go over all sorts of RELATIONS: it is not,\ntherefore, to be expected that I should here mention them all. It\nsuffices to our present purpose to show by these, what the ideas are we\nhave of this comprehensive consideration called RELATION. Which is so\nvarious, and the occasions of it so many, (as many as there can be of\ncomparing things one to another,) that it is not very easy to reduce it\nto rules, or under just heads. Those I have mentioned, I think, are\nsome of the most considerable; and such as may serve to let us see from\nwhence we get our ideas of relations, and wherein they are founded. But\nbefore I quit this argument, from what has been said give me leave to\nobserve:\n\n18. All Relations terminate in simple Ideas.\n\nFirst, That it is evident, that all relation terminates in, and is\nultimately founded on, those simple ideas we have got from sensation or\nreflection: so that all we have in our thoughts ourselves, (if we think\nof anything, or have any meaning,) or would signify to others, when we\nuse words standing for relations, is nothing but some simple ideas, or\ncollections of simple ideas, compared one with another. This is so\nmanifest in that sort called proportional, that nothing can be more.\nFor when a man says \u2018honey is sweeter than wax,\u2019 it is plain that his\nthoughts in this relation terminate in this simple idea, sweetness;\nwhich is equally true of all the rest: though, where they are\ncompounded, or decompounded, the simple ideas they are made up of, are,\nperhaps, seldom taken notice of: v.g. when the word father is\nmentioned: first, there is meant that particular species, or collective\nidea, signified by the word man; secondly, those sensible simple ideas,\nsignified by the word generation; and, thirdly, the effects of it, and\nall the simple ideas signified by the word child. So the word friend,\nbeing taken for a man who loves and is ready to do good to another, has\nall these following ideas to the making of it up: first, all the simple\nideas, comprehended in the word man, or intelligent being; secondly,\nthe idea of love; thirdly, the idea of readiness or disposition;\nfourthly, the idea of action, which is any kind of thought or motion;\nfifthly, the idea of good, which signifies anything that may advance\nhis happiness, and terminates at last, if examined, in particular\nsimple ideas, of which the word good in general signifies any one; but,\nif removed from all simple ideas quite, it signifies nothing at all.\nAnd thus also all moral words terminate at last, though perhaps more\nremotely, in a collection of simple ideas: the immediate signification\nof relative words, being very often other supposed known relations;\nwhich, if traced one to another, still end in simple ideas.\n\n19. We have ordinarily as clear a Notion of the Relation, as of the\nsimple ideas in things on which it is founded.\n\nSecondly, That in relations, we have for the most part, if not always,\nas clear a notion of THE RELATION as we have of THOSE SIMPLE IDEAS\nWHEREIN IT IS FOUNDED: agreement or disagreement, whereon relation\ndepends, being things whereof we have commonly as clear ideas as of any\nother whatsoever; it being but the distinguishing simple ideas, or\ntheir degrees one from another, without which we could have no distinct\nknowledge at all. For, if I have a clear idea of sweetness, light, or\nextension, I have, too, of equal, or more, or less, of each of these:\nif I know what it is for one man to be born of a woman, viz. Sempronia,\nI know what it is for another man to be born of the same woman\nSempronia; and so have as clear a notion of brothers as of births, and\nperhaps clearer. For if I believed that Sempronia digged Titus out of\nthe parsley-bed, (as they used to tell children,) and thereby became\nhis mother; and that afterwards, in the same manner, she digged Caius\nout of the parsley-bed, I had as clear a notion of the relation of\nbrothers between them, as if I had all the skill of a midwife: the\nnotion that the same woman contributed, as mother, equally to their\nbirths, (though I were ignorant or mistaken in the manner of it,) being\nthat on which I grounded the relation; and that they agreed in the\ncircumstance of birth, let it be what it will. The comparing them then\nin their descent from the same person, without knowing the particular\ncircumstances of that descent, is enough to found my notion of their\nhaving, or not having, the relation of brothers. But though the ideas\nof PARTICULAR RELATIONS are capable of being as clear and distinct in\nthe minds of those who will duly consider them as those of mixed modes,\nand more determinate than those of substances: yet the names belonging\nto relation are often of as doubtful and uncertain signification as\nthose of substances or mixed modes; and much more than those of simple\nideas. Because relative words, being the marks of this comparison,\nwhich is made only by men\u2019s thoughts, and is an idea only in men\u2019s\nminds, men frequently apply them to different comparisons of things,\naccording to their own imaginations; which do not always correspond\nwith those of others using the same name.\n\n20. The Notion of Relation is the same, whether the Rule any Action is\ncompared to be true or false.\n\nThirdly, That in these I call MORAL RELATIONS, I have a true notion of\nrelation, by comparing the action with the rule, whether the rule be\ntrue or false. For if I measure anything by a yard, I know whether the\nthing I measure be longer or shorter than that supposed yard, though\nperhaps the yard I measure by be not exactly the standard: which indeed\nis another inquiry. For though the rule be erroneous, and I mistaken in\nit; yet the agreement or disagreement observable in that which I\ncompare with, makes me perceive the relation. Though, measuring by a\nwrong rule, I shall thereby be brought to judge amiss of its moral\nrectitude; because I have tried it by that which is not the true rule:\nyet I am not mistaken in the relation which that action bears to that\nrule I compare it to, which is agreement or disagreement.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXIX.\nOF CLEAR AND OBSCURE, DISTINCT AND CONFUSED IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Ideas, some clear and distinct, others obscure and confused.\n\nHaving shown the original of our ideas, and taken a view of their\nseveral sorts; considered the difference between the simple and the\ncomplex; and observed how the complex ones are divided into those of\nmodes, substances, and relations\u2014all which, I think, is necessary to be\ndone by any one who would acquaint himself thoroughly with the progress\nof the mind, in its apprehension and knowledge of things\u2014it will,\nperhaps, be thought I have dwelt long enough upon the examination of\nIDEAS. I must, nevertheless, crave leave to offer some few other\nconsiderations concerning them.\n\nThe first is, that some are CLEAR and others OBSCURE; some DISTINCT and\nothers CONFUSED.\n\n2. Clear and obscure explained by Sight.\n\nThe perception of the mind being most aptly explained by words relating\nto the sight, we shall best understand what is meant by CLEAR and\nOBSCURE in our ideas, by reflecting on what we call clear and obscure\nin the objects of sight. Light being that which discovers to us visible\nobjects, we give the name of OBSCURE to that which is not placed in a\nlight sufficient to discover minutely to us the figure and colours\nwhich are observable in it, and which, in a better light, would be\ndiscernible. In like manner, our simple ideas are CLEAR, when they are\nsuch as the objects themselves from whence they were taken did or\nmight, in a well-ordered sensation or perception, present them. Whilst\nthe memory retains them thus, and can produce them to the mind whenever\nit has occasion to consider them, they are clear ideas. So far as they\neither want anything of the original exactness, or have lost any of\ntheir first freshness, and are, as it were, faded or tarnished by time,\nso far are they obscure. Complex ideas, as they are made up of simple\nones, so they are clear, when the ideas that go to their composition\nare clear, and the number and order of those simple ideas that are the\ningredients of any complex one is determinate and certain.\n\n3. Causes of Obscurity.\n\nThe causes of obscurity, in simple ideas, seem to be either dull\norgans; or very slight and transient impressions made by the objects;\nor else a weakness in the memory, not able to retain them as received.\nFor to return again to visible objects, to help us to apprehend this\nmatter. If the organs, or faculties of perception, like wax\nover-hardened with cold, will not receive the impression of the seal,\nfrom the usual impulse wont to imprint it; or, like wax of a temper too\nsoft, will not hold it well, when well imprinted; or else supposing the\nwax of a temper fit, but the seal not applied with a sufficient force\nto make a clear impression: in any of these cases, the print left by\nthe seal will be obscure. This, I suppose, needs no application to make\nit plainer.\n\n4. Distinct and confused, what.\n\nAs a clear idea is that whereof the mind has such a full and evident\nperception, as it does receive from an outward object operating duly on\na well-disposed organ, so a DISTINCT idea is that wherein the mind\nperceives a difference from all other; and a CONFUSED idea is such an\none as is not sufficiently distinguishable from another, from which it\nought to be different.\n\n5. Objection.\n\nIf no idea be confused, but such as is not sufficiently distinguishable\nfrom another from which it should be different, it will be hard, may\nany one say, to find anywhere a CONFUSED idea. For, let any idea be as\nit will, it can be no other but such as the mind perceives it to be;\nand that very perception sufficiently distinguishes it from all other\nideas, which cannot be other, i.e. different, without being perceived\nto be so. No idea, therefore, can be undistinguishable from another\nfrom which it ought to be different, unless you would have it different\nfrom itself: for from all other it is evidently different.\n\n6. Confusion of Ideas is in Reference to their Names.\n\nTo remove this difficulty, and to help us to conceive aright what it is\nthat makes the confusion ideas are at any time chargeable with, we must\nconsider, that things ranked under distinct names are supposed\ndifferent enough to be distinguished, that so each sort by its peculiar\nname may be marked, and discoursed of apart upon any occasion: and\nthere is nothing more evident, than that the greatest part of different\nnames are supposed to stand for different things. Now every idea a man\nhas, being visibly what it is, and distinct from all other ideas but\nitself; that which makes it confused, is, when it is such that it may\nas well be called by another name as that which it is expressed by; the\ndifference which keeps the things (to be ranked under those two\ndifferent names) distinct, and makes some of them belong rather to the\none and some of them to the other of those names, being left out; and\nso the distinction, which was intended to be kept up by those different\nnames, is quite lost.\n\n7. Defaults which make this Confusion.\n\nThe defaults which usually occasion this confusion, I think, are\nchiefly these following:\n\nFirst, complex ideas made up of too few simple ones.\n\nFirst, when any complex idea (for it is complex ideas that are most\nliable to confusion) is made up of too small a number of simple ideas,\nand such only as are common to other things, whereby the differences\nthat make it deserve a different name, are left out. Thus, he that has\nan idea made up of barely the simple ones of a beast with spots, has\nbut a confused idea of a leopard; it not being thereby sufficiently\ndistinguished from a lynx, and several other sorts of beasts that are\nspotted. So that such an idea, though it hath the peculiar name\nleopard, is not distinguishable from those designed by the names lynx\nor panther, and may as well come under the name lynx as leopard. How\nmuch the custom of defining of words by general terms contributes to\nmake the ideas we would express by them confused and undetermined, I\nleave others to consider. This is evident, that confused ideas are such\nas render the use of words uncertain, and take away the benefit of\ndistinct names. When the ideas, for which we use different terms, have\nnot a difference answerable to their distinct names, and so cannot be\ndistinguished by them, there it is that they are truly confused.\n\n8. Secondly, or their simple ones jumbled disorderly together.\n\nSecondly, Another fault which makes our ideas confused is, when, though\nthe particulars that make up any idea are in number enough, yet they\nare so jumbled together, that it is not easily discernible whether it\nmore belongs to the name that is given it than to any other. There is\nnothing properer to make us conceive this confusion than a sort of\npictures, usually shown as surprising pieces of art, wherein the\ncolours, as they are laid by the pencil on the table itself, mark out\nvery odd and unusual figures, and have no discernible order in their\nposition. This draught, thus made up of parts wherein no symmetry nor\norder appears, is in itself no more a confused thing, than the picture\nof a cloudy sky; wherein, though there be as little order of colours or\nfigures to be found, yet nobody thinks it a confused picture. What is\nit, then, that makes it be thought confused, since the want of symmetry\ndoes not? As it is plain it does not: for another draught made barely\nin imitation of this could not be called confused. I answer, That which\nmakes it be thought confused is, the applying it to some name to which\nit does no more discernibly belong than to some other: v.g. when it is\nsaid to be the picture of a man, or Caesar, then any one with reason\ncounts it confused; because it is not discernible in that state to\nbelong more to the name man, or Caesar, than to the name baboon, or\nPompey: which are supposed to stand for different ideas from those\nsignified by man, or Caesar. But when a cylindrical mirror, placed\nright, had reduced those irregular lines on the table into their due\norder and proportion, then the confusion ceases, and the eye presently\nsees that it is a man, or Caesar; i.e. that it belongs to those names;\nand that it is sufficiently distinguishable from a baboon, or Pompey;\ni.e. from the ideas signified by those names. Just thus it is with our\nideas, which are as it were the pictures of things. No one of these\nmental draughts, however the parts are put together, can be called\nconfused (for they are plainly discernible as they are) till it be\nranked under some ordinary name to which it cannot be discerned to\nbelong, any more than it does to some other name of an allowed\ndifferent signification.\n\n9. Thirdly, or their simple ones mutable and undetermined.\n\nThirdly, A third defect that frequently gives the name of confused to\nour ideas, is, when any one of them is uncertain and undetermined. Thus\nwe may observe men who, not forbearing to use the ordinary words of\ntheir language till they have learned their precise signification,\nchange the idea they make this or that term stand for, almost as often\nas they use it. He that does this out of uncertainty of what he should\nleave out, or put into his idea of CHURCH, or IDOLATRY, every time he\nthinks of either, and holds not steady to any one precise combination\nof ideas that makes it up, is said to have a confused idea of idolatry\nor the church: though this be still for the same reason as the former,\nviz. because a mutable idea (if we will allow it to be one idea) cannot\nbelong to one name rather than another, and so loses the distinction\nthat distinct names are designed for.\n\n10. Confusion without Reference to Names, hardly conceivable.\n\nBy what has been said, we may observe how much NAMES, as supposed\nsteady signs of things, and by their difference to stand for, and keep\nthings distinct that in themselves are different, are the occasion of\ndenominating ideas distinct or confused, by a secret and unobserved\nreference the mind makes of its ideas to such names. This perhaps will\nbe fuller understood, after what I say of Words in the third Book has\nbeen read and considered. But without taking notice of such a reference\nof ideas to distinct names, as the signs of distinct things, it will be\nhard to say what a confused idea is. And therefore when a man designs,\nby any name, a sort of things, or any one particular thing, distinct\nfrom all others, the complex idea he annexes to that name is the more\ndistinct, the more particular the ideas are, and the greater and more\ndeterminate the number and order of them is, whereof it is made up.\nFor, the more it has of these, the more it has still of the perceivable\ndifferences, whereby it is kept separate and distinct from all ideas\nbelonging to other names, even those that approach nearest to it, and\nthereby all confusion with them is avoided.\n\n11. Confusion concerns always two Ideas.\n\nConfusion making it a difficulty to separate two things that should be\nseparated, concerns always two ideas; and those most which most\napproach one another. Whenever, therefore, we suspect any idea to be\nconfused, we must examine what other it is in danger to be confounded\nwith, or which it cannot easily be separated from; and that will always\nbe found an idea belonging to another name, and so should be a\ndifferent thing, from which yet it is not sufficiently distinct: being\neither the same with it, or making a part of it, or at least as\nproperly called by that name as the other it is ranked under; and so\nkeeps not that difference from that other idea which the different\nnames import.\n\n12. Causes of confused Ideas.\n\nThis, I think, is the confusion proper to ideas; which still carries\nwith it a secret reference to names. At least, if there be any other\nconfusion of ideas, this is that which most of all disorders men\u2019s\nthoughts and discourses: ideas, as ranked under names, being those that\nfor the most part men reason of within themselves, and always those\nwhich they commune about with others. And therefore where there are\nsupposed two different ideas, marked by two different names, which are\nnot as distinguishable as the sounds that stand for them, there never\nfails to be confusion; and where any ideas are distinct as the ideas of\nthose two sounds they are marked by, there can be between them no\nconfusion. The way to prevent it is to collect and unite into one\ncomplex idea, as precisely as is possible, all those ingredients\nwhereby it is differenced from others; and to them, so united in a\ndeterminate number and order, apply steadily the same name. But this\nneither accommodating men\u2019s ease or vanity, nor serving any design but\nthat of naked truth, which is not always the thing aimed at, such\nexactness is rather to be wished than hoped for. And since the loose\napplication of names, to undetermined, variable, and almost no ideas,\nserves both to cover our own ignorance, as well as to perplex and\nconfound others, which goes for learning and superiority in knowledge,\nit is no wonder that most men should use it themselves, whilst they\ncomplain of it in others. Though I think no small part of the confusion\nto be found in the notions of men might, by care and ingenuity, be\navoided, yet I am far from concluding it everywhere wilful. Some ideas\nare so complex, and made up of so many parts, that the memory does not\neasily retain the very same precise combination of simple ideas under\none name: much less are we able constantly to divine for what precise\ncomplex idea such a name stands in another man\u2019s use of it. From the\nfirst of these, follows confusion in a man\u2019s own reasonings and\nopinions within himself; from the latter, frequent confusion in\ndiscoursing and arguing with others. But having more at large treated\nof Words, their defects, and abuses, in the following Book, I shall\nhere say no more of it.\n\n13. Complex Ideas may be distinct in one Part, and confused in another.\n\nOur complex ideas, being made up of collections, and so variety of\nsimple ones, may accordingly be very clear and distinct in one part,\nand very obscure and confused in another. In a man who speaks of a\nchiliaedron, or a body of a thousand sides, the ideas of the figure may\nbe very confused, though that of the number be very distinct; so that\nhe being able to discourse and demonstrate concerning that part of his\ncomplex idea which depends upon the number of thousand, he is apt to\nthink he has a distinct idea of a chiliaedron; though it be plain he\nhas no precise idea of its figure, so as to distinguish it, by that,\nfrom one that has but 999 sides: the not observing whereof causes no\nsmall error in men\u2019s thoughts, and confusion in their discourses.\n\n14. This, if not heeded, causes Confusion in our Arguings.\n\nHe that thinks he has a distinct idea of the figure of a chiliaedron,\nlet him for trial sake take another parcel of the same uniform matter,\nviz. gold or wax of an equal bulk, and make it into a figure of 999\nsides. He will, I doubt not, be able to distinguish these two ideas one\nfrom another, by the number of sides; and reason and argue distinctly\nabout them, whilst he keeps his thoughts and reasoning to that part\nonly of these ideas which is contained in their numbers; as that the\nsides of the one could be divided into two equal numbers, and of the\nothers not, &c. But when he goes about to distinguish them by their\nfigure, he will there be presently at a loss, and not be able, I think,\nto frame in his mind two ideas, one of them distinct from the other, by\nthe bare figure of these two pieces of gold; as he could, if the same\nparcels of gold were made one into a cube, the other a figure of five\nsides. In which incomplete ideas, we are very apt to impose on\nourselves, and wrangle with others, especially where they have\nparticular and familiar names. For, being satisfied in that part of the\nidea which we have clear; and the name which is familiar to us, being\napplied to the whole, containing that part also which is imperfect and\nobscure, we are apt to use it for that confused part, and draw\ndeductions from it in the obscure part of its signification, as\nconfidently as we do from the other.\n\n15. Instance in Eternity.\n\nHaving frequently in our mouths the name Eternity, we are apt to think\nwe have a positive comprehensive idea of it, which is as much as to\nsay, that there is no part of that duration which is not clearly\ncontained in our idea. It is true that he that thinks so may have a\nclear idea of duration; he may also have a clear idea of a very great\nlength of duration; he may also have a clear idea of the comparison of\nthat great one with still a greater: but it not being possible for him\nto include in his idea of any duration, let it be as great as it will,\nthe WHOLE EXTENT TOGETHER OF A DURATION, WHERE HE SUPPOSES NO END, that\npart of his idea, which is still beyond the bounds of that large\nduration he represents to his own thoughts, is very obscure and\nundetermined. And hence it is that in disputes and reasonings\nconcerning eternity, or any other infinite, we are very apt to blunder,\nand involve ourselves in manifest absurdities.\n\n16. Infinite Divisibility of Matter.\n\nIn matter, we have no clear ideas of the smallness of parts much beyond\nthe smallest that occur to any of our senses: and therefore, when we\ntalk of the divisibility of matter IN INFINITUM, though we have clear\nideas of division and divisibility, and have also clear ideas of parts\nmade out of a whole by division; yet we have but very obscure and\nconfused ideas of corpuscles, or minute bodies, so to be divided, when,\nby former divisions, they are reduced to a smallness much exceeding the\nperception of any of our senses; and so all that we have clear and\ndistinct ideas of is of what division in general or abstractedly is,\nand the relation of TOTUM and PARS: but of the bulk of the body, to be\nthus infinitely divided after certain progressions, I think, we have no\nclear nor distinct idea at all. For I ask any one, whether, taking the\nsmallest atom of dust he ever saw, he has any distinct idea (bating\nstill the number, which concerns not extension) betwixt the 100,000th\nand the 1,000,000th part of it. Or if he think he can refine his ideas\nto that degree, without losing sight of them, let him add ten cyphers\nto each of those numbers. Such a degree of smallness is not\nunreasonable to be supposed; since a division carried on so far brings\nit no nearer the end of infinite division, than the first division into\ntwo halves does. I must confess, for my part, I have no clear distinct\nideas of the different bulk or extension of those bodies, having but a\nvery obscure one of either of them. So that, I think, when we talk of\ndivision of bodies in infinitum, our idea of their distinct bulks,\nwhich is the subject and foundation of division, comes, after a little\nprogression, to be confounded, and almost lost in obscurity. For that\nidea which is to represent only bigness must be very obscure and\nconfused, which we cannot distinguish from one ten times as big, but\nonly by number: so that we have clear distinct ideas, we may say, of\nten and one, but no distinct ideas of two such extensions. It is plain\nfrom hence, that, when we talk of infinite divisibility of body or\nextension, our distinct and clear ideas are only of numbers: but the\nclear distinct ideas of extension, after some progress of division, are\nquite lost; and of such minute parts we have no distinct ideas at all;\nbut it returns, as all our ideas of infinite do, at last to that of\nNUMBER ALWAYS TO BE ADDED; but thereby never amounts to any distinct\nidea of ACTUAL INFINITE PARTS. We have, it is true, a clear idea of\ndivision, as often as we think of it; but thereby we have no more a\nclear idea of infinite parts in matter, than we have a clear idea of an\ninfinite number, by being able still to add new numbers to any assigned\nnumbers we have: endless divisibility giving us no more a clear and\ndistinct idea of actually infinite parts, than endless addibility (if I\nmay so speak) gives us a clear and distinct idea of an actually\ninfinite number: they both being only in a power still of increasing\nthe number, be it already as great as it will. So that of what remains\nto be added (WHEREIN CONSISTS THE INFINITY) we have but an obscure,\nimperfect, and confused idea; from or about which we can argue or\nreason with no certainty or clearness, no more than we can in\narithmetic, about a number of which we have no such distinct idea as we\nhave of 4 or 100; but only this relative obscure one, that, compared to\nany other, it is still bigger: and we have no more a clear positive\nidea of it, when we [dropped line*] than if we should say it is bigger\nthan 40 or 4: 400,000,000 having no nearer a proportion to the end of\naddition or number than 4. For he that adds only 4 to 4, and so\nproceeds, shall as soon come to the end of all addition, as he that\nadds 400,000,000 to 400,000,000. And so likewise in eternity; he that\nhas an idea of but four years, has as much a positive complete idea of\neternity, as he that has one of 400,000,000 of years: for what remains\nof eternity beyond either of these two numbers of years, is as clear to\nthe one as the other; i.e. neither of them has any clear positive idea\nof it at all. For he that adds only 4 years to 4, and so on, shall as\nsoon reach eternity as he that adds 400,000,000 of years, and so on;\nor, if he please, doubles the increase as often as he will: the\nremaining abyss being still as far beyond the end of all these\nprogressions as it is from the length of a day or an hour. For nothing\nfinite bears any proportion to infinite; and therefore our ideas, which\nare all finite, cannot bear any. Thus it is also in our idea of\nextension, when we increase it by addition, as well as when we diminish\nit by division, and would enlarge our thoughts to infinite space. After\na few doublings of those ideas of extension, which are the largest we\nare accustomed to have, we lose the clear distinct idea of that space:\nit becomes a confusedly great one, with a surplus of still greater;\nabout which, when we would argue or reason, we shall always find\nourselves at a loss; confused ideas, in our arguings and deductions\nfrom that part of them which is confused, always leading us into\nconfusion.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXX.\nOF REAL AND FANTASTICAL IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Ideas considered in reference to their Archetypes.\n\nBesides what we have already mentioned concerning ideas, other\nconsiderations belong to them, in reference to THINGS FROM WHENCE THEY\nARE TAKEN, or WHICH THEY MAY BE SUPPOSED TO REPRESENT; and thus, I\nthink, they may come under a threefold distinction, and are:\u2014First,\neither real or fantastical; Secondly, adequate or inadequate; Thirdly,\ntrue or false.\n\nFirst, by REAL IDEAS, I mean such as have a foundation in nature; such\nas have a conformity with the real being and existence of things, or\nwith their archetypes. FANTASTICAL or CHIMERICAL, I call such as have\nno foundation in nature, nor have any conformity with that reality of\nbeing to which they are tacitly referred, as to their archetypes. If we\nexamine the several sorts of ideas before mentioned, we shall find\nthat,\n\n2. Simple Ideas are all real appearances of things.\n\nFirst, Our SIMPLE IDEAS are all real, all agree to the reality of\nthings: not that they are all of them the images or representations of\nwhat does exist; the contrary whereof, in all but the primary qualities\nof bodies, hath been already shown. But, though whiteness and coldness\nare no more in snow than pain is; yet those ideas of whiteness and\ncoldness, pain, &c., being in us the effects of powers in things\nwithout us, ordained by our Maker to produce in us such sensations;\nthey are real ideas in us, whereby we distinguish the qualities that\nare really in things themselves. For, these several appearances being\ndesigned to be the mark whereby we are to know and distinguish things\nwhich we have to do with, our ideas do as well serve us to that\npurpose, and are as real distinguishing characters, whether they be\nonly CONSTANT EFFECTS, or else EXACT RESEMBLANCES of something in the\nthings themselves: the reality lying in that steady correspondence they\nhave with the distinct constitutions of real beings. But whether they\nanswer to those constitutions, as to causes or patterns, it matters\nnot; it suffices that they are constantly produced by them. And thus\nour simple ideas are all real and true, because they answer and agree\nto those powers of things which produce them on our minds; that being\nall that is requisite to make them real, and not fictions at pleasure.\nFor in simple ideas (as has been shown) the mind is wholly confined to\nthe operation of things upon it, and can make to itself no simple idea,\nmore than what it was received.\n\n3. Complex Ideas are voluntary Combinations.\n\nThough the mind be wholly passive in respect of its simple ideas; yet,\nI think, we may say it is not so in respect of its complex ideas. For\nthose being combinations of simple ideas put together, and united under\none general name, it is plain that the mind of man uses some kind of\nliberty in forming those complex ideas: how else comes it to pass that\none man\u2019s idea of gold, or justice, is different from another\u2019s, but\nbecause he has put in, or left out of his, some simple idea which the\nother has not? The question then is, Which of these are real, and which\nbarely imaginary combinations? What collections agree to the reality of\nthings, and what not? And to this I say that,\n\n4. Mixed Modes and Relations, made of consistent Ideas, are real.\n\nSecondly, MIXED MODES and RELATIONS, having no other reality but what\nthey have in the minds of men, there is nothing more required to this\nkind of ideas to make them real, but that they be so framed, that there\nbe a possibility of existing conformable to them. These ideas\nthemselves, being archetypes, cannot differ from their archetypes, and\nso cannot be chimerical, unless any one will jumble together in them\ninconsistent ideas. Indeed, as any of them have the names of a known\nlanguage assigned to them, by which he that has them in his mind would\nsignify them to others, so bare possibility of existing is not enough;\nthey must have a conformity to the ordinary signification of the name\nthat is given them, that they may not be thought fantastical: as if a\nman would give the name of justice to that idea which common use calls\nliberality. But this fantasticalness relates more to propriety of\nspeech, than reality of ideas. For a man to be undisturbed in danger,\nsedately to consider what is fittest to be done, and to execute it\nsteadily, is a mixed mode, or a complex idea of an action which may\nexist. But to be undisturbed in danger, without using one\u2019s reason or\nindustry, is what is also possible to be; and so is as real an idea as\nthe other. Though the first of these, having the name COURAGE given to\nit, may, in respect of that name, be a right or wrong idea; but the\nother, whilst it has not a common received name of any known language\nassigned to it, is not capable of any deformity, being made with no\nreference to anything but itself.\n\n5. Complex Ideas of Substances are real, when they agree with the\nexistence of Things.\n\nThirdly, Our complex ideas of SUBSTANCES, being made all of them in\nreference to things existing without us, and intended to be\nrepresentations of substances as they really are, are no further real\nthan as they are such combinations of simple ideas as are really\nunited, and co-exist in things without us. On the contrary, those are\nfantastical which are made up of such collections of simple ideas as\nwere really never united, never were found together in any substance:\nv. g. a rational creature, consisting of a horse\u2019s head, joined to a\nbody of human shape, or such as the CENTAURS are described: or, a body\nyellow, very malleable, fusible, and fixed, but lighter than common\nwater: or an uniform, unorganized body, consisting, as to sense, all of\nsimilar parts, with perception and voluntary motion joined to it.\nWhether such substances as these can possibly exist or no, it is\nprobable we do not know: but be that as it will, these ideas of\nsubstances, being made conformable to no pattern existing that we know;\nand consisting of such collections of ideas as no substance ever showed\nus united together, they ought to pass with us for barely imaginary:\nbut much more are those complex ideas so, which contain in them any\ninconsistency or contradiction of their parts.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXI.\nOF ADEQUATE AND INADEQUATE IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Adequate Ideas are such as perfectly represent their Archetypes.\n\nOf our real ideas, some are adequate, and some are inadequate. Those I\ncall ADEQUATE, which perfectly represent those archetypes which the\nmind supposes them taken from: which it intends them to stand for, and\nto which it refers them. INADEQUATE IDEAS are such, which are but a\npartial or incomplete representation of those archetypes to which they\nare referred. Upon which account it is plain,\n\n2. Adequate Ideas are such as perfectly represent their Archetypes.\nSimple Ideas all adequate.\n\nFirst, that ALL OUR SIMPLE IDEAS ARE ADEQUATE. Because, being nothing\nbut the effects of certain powers in things, fitted and ordained by God\nto produce such sensations in us, they cannot but be correspondent and\nadequate to those powers: and we are sure they agree to the reality of\nthings. For, if sugar produce in us the ideas which we call whiteness\nand sweetness, we are sure there is a power in sugar to produce those\nideas in our minds, or else they could not have been produced by it.\nAnd so each sensation answering the power that operates on any of our\nsenses, the idea so produced is a real idea, (and not a fiction of the\nmind, which has no power to produce any simple idea); and cannot but be\nadequate, since it ought only to answer that power: and so all simple\nideas are adequate. It is true, the things producing in us these simple\nideas are but few of them denominated by us, as if they were only the\nCAUSES of them; but as if those ideas were real beings IN them. For,\nthough fire be called painful to the touch, whereby is signified the\npower of producing in us the idea of pain, yet it is denominated also\nlight and hot; as if light and heat were really something in the fire,\nmore than a power to excite these ideas in us; and therefore are called\nqualities in or of the fire. But these being nothing, in truth, but\npowers to excite such ideas in us, I must in that sense be understood,\nwhen I speak of secondary qualities as being in things; or of their\nideas as being the objects that excite them in us. Such ways of\nspeaking, though accommodated to the vulgar notions, without which one\ncannot be well understood, yet truly signify nothing but those powers\nwhich are in things to excite certain sensations or ideas in us. Since\nwere there no fit organs to receive the impressions fire makes on the\nsight and touch, nor a mind joined to those organs to receive the ideas\nof light and heat by those impressions from the fire or sun, there\nwould yet be no more light or heat in the world than there would be\npain if there were no sensible creature to feel it, though the sun\nshould continue just as it is now, and Mount AEtna flame higher than\never it did. Solidity and extension, and the termination of it, figure,\nwith motion and rest, whereof we have the ideas, would be really in the\nworld as they are, whether there were any sensible being to perceive\nthem or no: and therefore we have reason to look on those as the real\nmodifications of matter, and such as are the exciting causes of all our\nvarious sensations from bodies. But this being an inquiry not belonging\nto this place, I shall enter no further into it, but proceed to show\nwhat complex ideas are adequate, and what not.\n\n3. Modes are all adequate.\n\nSecondly, OUR COMPLEX IDEAS OF MODES, being voluntary collections of\nsimple ideas, which the mind puts together, without reference to any\nreal archetypes, or standing patterns, existing anywhere, are and\ncannot but be ADEQUATE IDEAS. Because they, not being intended for\ncopies of things really existing, but for archetypes made by the mind,\nto rank and denominate things by, cannot want anything; they having\neach of them that combination of ideas, and thereby that perfection,\nwhich the mind intended they should: so that the mind acquiesces in\nthem, and can find nothing wanting. Thus, by having the idea of a\nfigure with three sides meeting at three angles, I have a complete\nidea, wherein I require nothing else to make it perfect. That the mind\nis satisfied with the perfection of this its idea is plain, in that it\ndoes not conceive that any understanding hath, or can have, a more\ncomplete or perfect idea of that thing it signifies by the word\ntriangle, supposing it to exist, than itself has, in that complex idea\nof three sides and three angles, in which is contained all that is or\ncan be essential to it, or necessary to complete it, wherever or\nhowever it exists. But in our IDEAS OF SUBSTANCES it is otherwise. For\nthere, desiring to copy things as they really do exist, and to\nrepresent to ourselves that constitution on which all their properties\ndepend, we perceive our ideas attain not that perfection we intend: we\nfind they still want something we should be glad were in them; and so\nare all inadequate. But MIXED MODES and RELATIONS, being archetypes\nwithout patterns, and so having nothing to represent but themselves,\ncannot but be adequate, everything being so to itself. He that at first\nput together the idea of danger perceived, absence of disorder from\nfear, sedate consideration of what was justly to be done, and executing\nthat without disturbance, or being deterred by the danger of it, had\ncertainly in his mind that complex idea made up of that combination:\nand intending it to be nothing else but what is, nor to have in it any\nother simple ideas but what it hath, it could not also but be an\nadequate idea: and laying this up in his memory, with the name COURAGE\nannexed to it, to signify to others, and denominate from thence any\naction he should observe to agree with it, had thereby a standard to\nmeasure and denominate actions by, as they agreed to it. This idea,\nthus made and laid up for a pattern, must necessarily be adequate,\nbeing referred to nothing else but itself, nor made by any other\noriginal but the good liking and will of him that first made this\ncombination.\n\n4. Modes, in reference to settled Names, may be inadequate.\n\nIndeed another coming after, and in conversation learning from him the\nword COURAGE, may make an idea, to which he gives the name courage,\ndifferent from what the first author applied it to, and has in his mind\nwhen he uses it. And in this case, if he designs that his idea in\nthinking should be conformable to the other\u2019s idea, as the name he uses\nin speaking is conformable in sound to his from whom he learned it, his\nidea may be very wrong and inadequate: because in this case, making the\nother man\u2019s idea the pattern of his idea in thinking, as the other\nman\u2019s word or sound is the pattern of his in speaking, his idea is so\nfar defective and inadequate, as it is distant from the archetype and\npattern he refers it to, and intends to express and signify by the name\nhe uses for it; which name he would have to be a sign of the other\nman\u2019s idea, (to which, in its proper use, it is primarily annexed,) and\nof his own, as agreeing to it: to which if his own does not exactly\ncorrespond, it is faulty and inadequate.\n\n5. Because then means, in propriety of speech, to correspond to the\nideas in some other mind.\n\nTherefore these complex ideas of MODES, which they are referred by the\nmind, and intended to correspond to the ideas in the mind of some other\nintelligent being, expressed by the names we apply to them, they may be\nvery deficient, wrong, and inadequate; because they agree not to that\nwhich the mind designs to be their archetype and pattern: in which\nrespect only any idea of modes can be wrong, imperfect, or inadequate.\nAnd on this account our ideas of mixed modes are the most liable to be\nfaulty of any other; but this refers more to proper speaking than\nknowing right.\n\n6. Ideas of Substances, as referred to real Essences, not adequate.\n\nThirdly, what IDEAS WE HAVE OF SUBSTANCES, I have above shown. Now,\nthose ideas have in the mind a double reference: 1. Sometimes they are\nreferred to a supposed real essence of each species of things. 2.\nSometimes they are only designed to be pictures and representations in\nthe mind of things that do exist, by ideas of those qualities that are\ndiscoverable in them. In both which ways these copies of those\noriginals and archetypes are imperfect and inadequate.\n\nFirst, it is usual for men to make the names of substances stand for\nthings as supposed to have certain real essences, whereby they are of\nthis or that species: and names standing for nothing but the ideas that\nare in men\u2019s minds, they must constantly refer their ideas to such real\nessences, as to their archetypes. That men (especially such as have\nbeen bred up in the learning taught in this part of the world) do\nsuppose certain specific essences of substances, which each individual\nin its several kinds is made conformable to and partakes of, is so far\nfrom needing proof that it will be thought strange if any one should do\notherwise. And thus they ordinarily apply the specific names they rank\nparticular substances under, to things as distinguished by such\nspecific real essences. Who is there almost, who would not take it\namiss if it should be doubted whether he called himself a man, with any\nother meaning than as having the real essence of a man? And yet if you\ndemand what those real essences are, it is plain men are ignorant, and\nknow them not. From whence it follows, that the ideas they have in\ntheir minds, being referred to real essences, as to archetypes which\nare unknown, must be so far from being adequate that they cannot be\nsupposed to be any representation of them at all. The complex ideas we\nhave of substances are, as it has been shown, certain collections of\nsimple ideas that have been observed or supposed constantly to exist\ntogether. But such a complex idea cannot be the real essence of any\nsubstance; for then the properties we discover in that body would\ndepend on that complex idea, and be deducible from it, and their\nnecessary connexion with it be known; as all properties of a triangle\ndepend on, and, as far as they are discoverable, are deducible from the\ncomplex idea of three lines including a space. But it is plain that in\nour complex ideas of substances are not contained such ideas, on which\nall the other qualities that are to be found in them do depend. The\ncommon idea men have of iron is, a body of a certain colour, weight,\nand hardness; and a property that they look on as belonging to it, is\nmalleableness. But yet this property has no necessary connexion with\nthat complex idea, or any part of it: and there is no more reason to\nthink that malleableness depends on that colour, weight, and hardness,\nthan that colour or that weight depends on its malleableness. And yet,\nthough we know nothing of these real essences, there is nothing more\nordinary than that men should attribute the sorts of things to such\nessences. The particular parcel of matter which makes the ring I have\non my finger is forwardly by most men supposed to have a real essence,\nwhereby it is gold; and from whence those qualities flow which I find\nin it, viz. its peculiar colour, weight, hardness, fusibility,\nfixedness, and change of colour upon a slight touch of mercury, &c.\nThis essence, from which all these properties flow, when I inquire into\nit and search after it, I plainly perceive I cannot discover: the\nfurthest I can go is, only to presume that, it being nothing but body,\nits real essence or internal constitution, on which these qualities\ndepend, can be nothing but the figure, size, and connexion of its solid\nparts; of neither of which having any distinct perception at all can I\nhave any idea of its essence: which is the cause that it has that\nparticular shining yellowness; a greater weight than anything I know of\nthe same bulk; and a fitness to have its colour changed by the touch of\nquicksilver. If any one will say, that the real essence and internal\nconstitution, on which these properties depend, is not the figure,\nsize, and arrangement or connexion of its solid parts, but something\nelse, called its particular FORM, I am further from having any idea of\nits real essence than I was before. For I have an idea of figure, size,\nand situation of solid parts in general, though I have none of the\nparticular figure, size, or putting together of parts, whereby the\nqualities above mentioned are produced; which qualities I find in that\nparticular parcel of matter that is on my finger, and not in another\nparcel of matter, with which I cut the pen I write with. But, when I am\ntold that something besides the figure, size, and posture of the solid\nparts of that body in its essence, something called SUBSTANTIAL FORM,\nof that I confess I have no idea at all, but only of the sound form;\nwhich is far enough from an idea of its real essence or constitution.\nThe like ignorance as I have of the real essence of this particular\nsubstance, I have also of the real essence of all other natural ones:\nof which essences I confess I have no distinct ideas at all; and, I am\napt to suppose, others, when they examine their own knowledge, will\nfind in themselves, in this one point, the same sort of ignorance.\n\n7. Because men know not the real essence of substances.\n\nNow, then, when men apply to this particular parcel of matter on my\nfinger a general name already in use, and denominate it GOLD, do they\nnot ordinarily, or are they not understood to give it that name, as\nbelonging to a particular species of bodies, having a real internal\nessence; by having of which essence this particular substance comes to\nbe of that species, and to be called by that name? If it be so, as it\nis plain it is, the name by which things are marked as having that\nessence must be referred primarily to that essence; and consequently\nthe idea to which that name is given must be referred also to that\nessence, and be intended to represent it. Which essence, since they who\nso use the names know not, their ideas of substances must be all\ninadequate in that respect, as not containing in them that real essence\nwhich the mind intends they should.\n\n8. Ideas of Substances, when regarded as Collections of their\nQualities, are all inadequate.\n\nSecondly, those who, neglecting that useless supposition of unknown\nreal essences, whereby they are distinguished, endeavour to copy the\nsubstances that exist in the world, by putting together the ideas of\nthose sensible qualities which are found co-existing in them, though\nthey come much nearer a likeness of them than those who imagine they\nknow not what real specific essences: yet they arrive not at perfectly\nadequate ideas of those substances they would thus copy into their\nminds: nor do those copies exactly and fully contain all that is to be\nfound in their archetypes. Because those qualities and powers of\nsubstances, whereof we make their complex ideas, are so many and\nvarious, that no man\u2019s complex idea contains them all. That our complex\nideas of substances do not contain in them ALL the simple ideas that\nare united in the things themselves is evident, in that men do rarely\nput into their complex idea of any substance all the simple ideas they\ndo know to exist in it. Because, endeavouring to make the signification\nof their names as clear and as little cumbersome as they can, they make\ntheir specific ideas of the sorts of substance, for the most part, of a\nfew of those simple ideas which are to be found in them: but these\nhaving no original precedency, or right to be put in, and make the\nspecific idea, more than others that are left out, it is plain that\nboth these ways our ideas of substances are deficient and inadequate.\nThe simple ideas whereof we make our complex ones of substances are all\nof them (bating only the figure and bulk of some sorts) powers; which\nbeing relations to other substances, we can never be sure that we know\nALL the powers that are in any one body, till we have tried what\nchanges it is fitted to give to or receive from other substances in\ntheir several ways of application: which being impossible to be tried\nupon any one body, much less upon all, it is impossible we should have\nadequate ideas of any substance made up of a collection of all its\nproperties.\n\n9. Their powers usually make up our complex ideas of substances.\n\nWhosoever first lighted on a parcel of that sort of substance we denote\nby the word GOLD, could not rationally take the bulk and figure he\nobserved in that lump to depend on its real essence, or internal\nconstitution. Therefore those never went into his idea of that species\nof body; but its peculiar colour, perhaps, and weight, were the first\nhe abstracted from it, to make the complex idea of that species. Which\nboth are but powers; the one to affect our eyes after such a manner,\nand to produce in us that idea we call yellow; and the other to force\nupwards any other body of equal bulk, they being put into a pair of\nequal scales, one against another. Another perhaps added to these the\nideas of fusibility and fixedness, two other passive powers, in\nrelation to the operation of fire upon it; another, its ductility and\nsolubility in aqua regia, two other powers, relating to the operation\nof other bodies, in changing its outward figure, or separation of it\ninto insensible parts. These, or parts of these, put together, usually\nmake the complex idea in men\u2019s minds of that sort of body we call GOLD.\n\n10. Substances have innumerable powers not contained in our complex\nideas of them.\n\nBut no one who hath considered the properties of bodies in general, or\nthis sort in particular, can doubt that this, called GOLD, has infinite\nother properties not contained in that complex idea. Some who have\nexamined this species more accurately could, I believe, enumerate ten\ntimes as many properties in gold, all of them as inseparable from its\ninternal constitution, as its colour or weight: and it is probable, if\nany one knew all the properties that are by divers men known of this\nmetal, there would be an hundred times as many ideas go to the complex\nidea of gold as any one man yet has in his; and yet perhaps that not be\nthe thousandth part of what is to be discovered in it. The changes that\nthat one body is apt to receive, and make in other bodies, upon a due\napplication, exceeding far not only what we know, but what we are apt\nto imagine. Which will not appear so much a paradox to any one who will\nbut consider how far men are yet from knowing all the properties of\nthat one, no very compound figure, a triangle; though it be no small\nnumber that are already by mathematicians discovered of it.\n\n11. Ideas of Substances, being got only by collecting their qualities,\nare all inadequate.\n\nSo that all our complex ideas of substances are imperfect and\ninadequate. Which would be so also in mathematical figures, if we were\nto have our complex ideas of them, only by collecting their properties\nin reference to other figures. How uncertain and imperfect would our\nideas be of an ellipsis, if we had no other idea of it, but some few of\nits properties? Whereas, having in our plain idea the WHOLE essence of\nthat figure, we from thence discover those properties, and\ndemonstratively see how they flow, and are inseparable from it.\n\n12. Simple Ideas, [word in Greek], and adequate.\n\nThus the mind has three sorts of abstract ideas or nominal essences:\n\nFirst, SIMPLE ideas, which are [word in Greek] or copies; but yet\ncertainly adequate. Because, being intended to express nothing but the\npower in things to produce in the mind such a sensation, that\nsensation, when it is produced, cannot but be the effect of that power.\nSo the paper I write on, having the power in the light (I speak\naccording to the common notion of light) to produce in men the\nsensation which I call white, it cannot but be the effect of such a\npower in something without the mind; since the mind has not the power\nto produce any such idea in itself: and being meant for nothing else\nbut the effect of such a power that simple idea is [* words missing]\nthe sensation of white, in my mind, being the effect of that power\nwhich is in the paper to produce it, is perfectly adequate to that\npower; or else that power would produce a different idea.\n\n13. Ideas of Substances are Echthypa, and inadequate.\n\nSecondly, the COMPLEX ideas of SUBSTANCES are ectypes, copies too; but\nnot perfect ones, not adequate: which is very evident to the mind, in\nthat it plainly perceives, that whatever collection of simple ideas it\nmakes of any substance that exists, it cannot be sure that it exactly\nanswers all that are in that substance. Since, not having tried all the\noperations of all other substances upon it, and found all the\nalterations it would receive from, or cause in, other substances, it\ncannot have an exact adequate collection of all its active and passive\ncapacities; and so not have an adequate complex idea of the powers of\nany substance existing, and its relations; which is that sort of\ncomplex idea of substances we have. And, after all, if we would have,\nand actually had, in our complex idea, an exact collection of all the\nsecondary qualities or powers of any substance, we should not yet\nthereby have an idea of the ESSENCE of that thing. For, since the\npowers or qualities that are observable by us are not the real essence\nof that substance, but depend on it, and flow from it, any collection\nwhatsoever of these qualities cannot be the real essence of that thing.\nWhereby it is plain, that our ideas of substances are not adequate; are\nnot what the mind intends them to be. Besides, a man has no idea of\nsubstance in general, nor knows what substance is in itself.\n\n14. Ideas of Modes and Relations are Archetypes, and cannot but be\nadequate.\n\nThirdly, COMPLEX ideas of MODES AND RELATIONS are originals, and\narchetypes; are not copies, nor made after the pattern of any real\nexistence, to which the mind intends them to be conformable, and\nexactly to answer. These being such collections of simple ideas that\nthe mind itself puts together, and such collections that each of them\ncontains in it precisely all that the mind intends that it should, they\nare archetypes and essences of modes that may exist; and so are\ndesigned only for, and belong only to such modes as, when they do\nexist, have an exact conformity with those complex ideas The ideas,\ntherefore, of modes and relations cannot but be adequate.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXII.\nOF TRUE AND FALSE IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Truth and Falsehood properly belong to Propositions, not to Ideas.\n\nThough truth and falsehood belong, in propriety of speech, only to\nPROPOSITIONS: yet IDEAS are oftentimes termed true or false (as what\nwords are there that are not used with great latitude, and with some\ndeviation from their strict and proper significations?) Though I think\nthat when ideas themselves are termed true or false, there is still\nsome secret or tacit proposition, which is the foundation of that\ndenomination: as we shall see, if we examine the particular occasions\nwherein they come to be called true or false. In all which we shall\nfind some kind of affirmation or negation, which is the reason of that\ndenomination. For our ideas, being nothing but bare APPEARANCES, or\nperceptions in our minds, cannot properly and simply in themselves be\nsaid to be true or false, no more than a single name of anything can be\nsaid to be true or false.\n\n2. Ideas and words may be said to be true, inasmuch as they really are\nideas and words.\n\nIndeed both ideas and words may be said to be true, in a metaphysical\nsense of the word truth; as all other things that any way exist are\nsaid to be true, i.e. really to be such as they exist. Though in things\ncalled true, even in that sense, there is perhaps a secret reference to\nour ideas, looked upon as the standards of that truth; which amounts to\na mental proposition, though it be usually not taken notice of.\n\n3. No Idea, as an Appearance in the Mind, either true or false.\n\nBut it is not in that metaphysical sense of truth which we inquire\nhere, when we examine, whether our ideas are capable of being true or\nfalse, but in the more ordinary acceptation of those words: and so I\nsay that the ideas in our minds, being only so many perceptions or\nappearances there, none of them are false; the idea of a centaur having\nno more falsehood in it when it appears in our minds, than the name\ncentaur has falsehood in it, when it is pronounced by our mouths, or\nwritten on paper. For truth or falsehood lying always in some\naffirmation or negation, mental or verbal, our ideas are not capable,\nany of them, of being false, till the mind passes some judgment on\nthem; that is, affirms or denies something of them.\n\n4. Ideas referred to anything extraneous to them may be true or false.\n\nWhenever the mind refers any of its ideas to anything extraneous to\nthem, they are then capable to be called true or false. Because the\nmind, in such a reference, makes a tacit supposition of their\nconformity to that thing; which supposition, as it happens to be true\nor false, so the ideas themselves come to be denominated. The most\nusual cases wherein this happens, are these following:\n\n5. Other Men\u2019s Ideas; real Existence; and supposed real Essences, are\nwhat Men usually refer their Ideas to.\n\nFirst, when the mind supposes any idea it has CONFORMABLE to that in\nOTHER MEN\u2019S MINDS, called by the same common name; v.g. when the mind\nintends or judges its ideas of justice, temperance, religion, to be the\nsame with what other men give those names to.\n\nSecondly, when the mind supposes any idea it has in itself to be\nCONFORMABLE to some REAL EXISTENCE. Thus the two ideas of a man and a\ncentaur, supposed to be the ideas of real substances, are the one true\nand the other false; the one having a conformity to what has really\nexisted, the other not. Thirdly, when the mind REFERS any of its ideas\nto that REAL constitution and ESSENCE of anything, whereon all its\nproperties depend: and thus the greatest part, if not all our ideas of\nsubstances, are false.\n\n6. The cause of such Reference.\n\nThese suppositions the mind is very apt tacitly to make concerning its\nown ideas. But yet, if we will examine it, we shall find it is chiefly,\nif not only, concerning its ABSTRACT complex ideas. For the natural\ntendency of the mind being towards knowledge; and finding that, if it\nshould proceed by and dwell upon only particular things, its progress\nwould be very slow, and its work endless; therefore, to shorten its way\nto knowledge, and make each perception more comprehensive, the first\nthing it does, as the foundation of the easier enlarging its knowledge,\neither by contemplation of the things themselves that it would know, or\nconference with others about them, is to bind them into bundles, and\nrank them so into sorts, that what knowledge it gets of any of them it\nmay thereby with assurance extend to all of that sort; and so advance\nby larger steps in that which is its great business, knowledge. This,\nas I have elsewhere shown, is the reason why we collect things under\ncomprehensive ideas, with names annexed to them, into genera and\nspecies; i.e. into kinds and sorts.\n\n7. Names of things supposed to carry in them knowledge of their\nessences.\n\nIf therefore we will warily attend to the motions of the mind, and\nobserve what course it usually takes in its way to knowledge, we shall\nI think find, that the mind having got an idea which it thinks it may\nhave use of either in contemplation or discourse, the first thing it\ndoes is to abstract it, and then get a name to it; and so lay it up in\nits storehouse, the memory, as containing the essence of a sort of\nthings, of which that name is always to be the mark. Hence it is, that\nwe may often observe that, when any one sees a new thing of a kind that\nhe knows not, he presently asks, what it is; meaning by that inquiry\nnothing but the name. As if the name carried with it the knowledge of\nthe species, or the essence of it; whereof it is indeed used as the\nmark, and is generally supposed annexed to it.\n\n8. How men suppose that their ideas must correspond to things, and to\nthe customary meanings of names.\n\nBut this ABSTRACT IDEA, being something in the mind, between the thing\nthat exists, and the name that is given to it; it is in our ideas that\nboth the rightness of our knowledge, and the propriety and\nintelligibleness of our speaking, consists. And hence it is that men\nare so forward to suppose, that the abstract ideas they have in their\nminds are such as agree to the things existing without them, to which\nthey are referred; and are the same also to which the names they give\nthem do by the use and propriety of that language belong. For without\nthis double conformity of their ideas, they find they should both think\namiss of things in themselves, and talk of them unintelligibly to\nothers.\n\n9. Simple Ideas may be false, in reference to others of the same Name,\nbut are least liable to be so.\n\nFirst, then, I say, that when the truth of our ideas is judged of by\nthe conformity they have to the ideas which other men have, and\ncommonly signify by the same name, they may be any of them false. But\nyet SIMPLE IDEAS are least of all liable to be so mistaken. Because a\nman, by his senses and every day\u2019s observation, may easily satisfy\nhimself what the simple ideas are which their several names that are in\ncommon use stand for; they being but few in number, and such as, if he\ndoubts or mistakes in, he may easily rectify by the objects they are to\nbe found in. Therefore it is seldom that any one mistakes in his names\nof simple ideas, or applies the name red to the idea green, or the name\nsweet to the idea bitter: much less are men apt to confound the names\nof ideas belonging to different senses, and call a colour by the name\nof a taste, &c. Whereby it is evident that the simple ideas they call\nby any name are commonly the same that others have and mean when they\nuse the same names.\n\n10. Ideas of mixed Modes most liable to be false in this Sense.\n\nComplex ideas are much more liable to be false in this respect; and the\ncomplex ideas of MIXED MODES, much more than those of substances;\nbecause in substances (especially those which the common and unborrowed\nnames of any language are applied to) some remarkable sensible\nqualities, serving ordinarily to distinguish one sort from another,\neasily preserve those who take any care in the use of their words, from\napplying them to sorts of substances to which they do not at all\nbelong. But in mixed modes we are much more uncertain; it being not so\neasy to determine of several actions, whether they are to be called\nJUSTICE or CRUELTY, LIBERALITY or PRODIGALITY. And so in referring our\nideas to those of other men, called by the same names, ours may be\nfalse; and the idea in our minds, which we express by the word JUSTICE,\nmay perhaps be that which ought to have another name.\n\n11. Or at least to be thought false.\n\nBut whether or no our ideas of mixed modes are more liable than any\nsort to be different from those of other men, which are marked by the\nsame names, this at least is certain. That this sort of falsehood is\nmuch more familiarly attributed to our ideas of mixed modes than to any\nother. When a man is thought to have a false idea of JUSTICE, or\nGRATITUDE, or GLORY, it is for no other reason, but that his agrees not\nwith the ideas which each of those names are the signs of in other men.\n\n12. And why.\n\nThe reason whereof seems to me to be this: That the abstract ideas of\nmixed modes, being men\u2019s voluntary combinations of such a precise\ncollection of simple ideas, and so the essence of each species being\nmade by men alone, whereof we have no other sensible standard existing\nanywhere but the name itself, or the definition of that name; we having\nnothing else to refer these our ideas of mixed modes to, as a standard\nto which we would conform them, but the ideas of those who are thought\nto use those names in their most proper significations; and, so as our\nideas conform or differ from THEM, they pass for true or false. And\nthus much concerning the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in reference\nto their names.\n\n13. As referred to Real Existence, none of our Ideas can be false but\nthose of Substances.\n\nSecondly, as to the truth and falsehood of our ideas, in reference to\nthe real existence of things. When that is made the standard of their\ntruth, none of them can be termed false but only our complex ideas of\nsubstances.\n\n14. First, Simple Ideas in this Sense not false and why.\n\nFirst, our simple ideas, being barely such perceptions as God has\nfitted us to receive, and given power to external objects to produce in\nus by established laws and ways, suitable to his wisdom and goodness,\nthough incomprehensible to us, their truth consists in nothing else but\nin such appearances as are produced in us, and must be suitable to\nthose powers he has placed in external objects or else they could not\nbe produced in us: and thus answering those powers, they are what they\nshould be, true ideas. Nor do they become liable to any imputation of\nfalsehood, if the mind (as in most men I believe it does) judges these\nideas to be in the things themselves. For God in his wisdom having set\nthem as marks of distinction in things, whereby we may be able to\ndiscern one thing from another, and so choose any of them for our uses\nas we have occasion; it alters not the nature of our simple idea,\nwhether we think that the idea of blue be in the violet itself, or in\nour mind only; and only the power of producing it by the texture of its\nparts, reflecting the particles of light after a certain manner, to be\nin the violet itself. For that texture in the object, by a regular and\nconstant operation producing the same idea of blue in us, it serves us\nto distinguish, by our eyes, that from any other thing; whether that\ndistinguishing mark, as it is really in the violet, be only a peculiar\ntexture of parts, or else that very colour, the idea whereof (which is\nin us) is the exact resemblance. And it is equally from that appearance\nto be denominated blue, whether it be that real colour, or only a\npeculiar texture in it, that causes in us that idea: since the name,\nBLUE, notes properly nothing but that mark of distinction that is in a\nviolet, discernible only by our eyes, whatever it consists in; that\nbeing beyond our capacities distinctly to know, and perhaps would be of\nless use to us, if we had faculties to discern.\n\n15. Though one Man\u2019s Idea of Blue should be different from another\u2019s.\n\nNeither would it carry any imputation of falsehood to our simple ideas,\nif by the different structure of our organs it were so ordered, that\nTHE SAME OBJECT SHOULD PRODUCE IN SEVERAL MEN\u2019S MINDS DIFFERENT IDEAS\nat the same time; v.g. if the idea that a violet produced in one man\u2019s\nmind by his eyes were the same that a marigold produced in another\nman\u2019s, and vice versa. For, since this could never be known, because\none man\u2019s mind could not pass into another man\u2019s body, to perceive what\nappearances were produced by those organs; neither the ideas hereby,\nnor the names, would be at all confounded, or any falsehood be in\neither. For all things that had the texture of a violet, producing\nconstantly the idea that he called blue, and those which had the\ntexture of a marigold, producing constantly the idea which he as\nconstantly called yellow, whatever those appearances were in his mind;\nhe would be able as regularly to distinguish things for his use by\nthose appearances, and understand and signify those distinctions marked\nby the name blue and yellow, as if the appearances or ideas in his mind\nreceived from those two flowers were exactly the same with the ideas in\nother men\u2019s minds. I am nevertheless very apt to think that the\nsensible ideas produced by any object in different men\u2019s minds, are\nmost commonly very near and undiscernibly alike. For which opinion, I\nthink, there might be many reasons offered: but that being besides my\npresent business, I shall not trouble my reader with them; but only\nmind him, that the contrary supposition, if it could be proved, is of\nlittle use, either for the improvement of our knowledge, or conveniency\nof life, and so we need not trouble ourselves to examine it.\n\n16. Simple Ideas can none of them be false in respect of real\nexistence.\n\nFrom what has been said concerning our simple ideas, I think it evident\nthat our simple ideas can none of them be false in respect of things\nexisting without us. For the truth of these appearances or perceptions\nin our minds consisting, as has been said, only in their being\nanswerable to the powers in external objects to produce by our senses\nsuch appearances in us, and each of them being in the mind such as it\nis, suitable to the power that produced it, and which alone it\nrepresents, it cannot upon that account, or as referred to such a\npattern, be false. Blue and yellow, bitter or sweet, can never be false\nideas: these perceptions in the mind are just such as they are there,\nanswering the powers appointed by God to produce them; and so are truly\nwhat they are, and are intended to be. Indeed the names may be\nmisapplied, but that in this respect makes no falsehood in the ideas;\nas if a man ignorant in the English tongue should call purple scarlet.\n\n17. Secondly, Modes not false cannot be false in reference to essences\nof things.\n\nSecondly, neither can our complex ideas of modes, in reference to the\nessence of anything really existing, be false; because whatever complex\nideas I have of any mode, it hath no reference to any pattern existing,\nand made by nature; it is not supposed to contain in it any other ideas\nthan what it hath; nor to represent anything but such a complication of\nideas as it does. Thus, when I have the idea of such an action of a man\nwho forbears to afford himself such meat, drink, and clothing, and\nother conveniences of life, as his riches and estate will be sufficient\nto supply and his station requires, I have no false idea; but such an\none as represents an action, either as I find or imagine it, and so is\ncapable of neither truth nor falsehood. But when I give the name\nFRUGALITY or VIRTUE to this action, then it may be called a false idea,\nif thereby it be supposed to agree with that idea to which, in\npropriety of speech, the name of frugality doth belong, or to be\nconformable to that law which is the standard of virtue and vice.\n\n18. Thirdly, Ideas of Substances may be false in reference to existing\nthings.\n\nThirdly, our complex ideas of substances, being all referred to\npatterns in things themselves, may be false. That they are all false,\nwhen looked upon as the representations of the unknown essences of\nthings, is so evident that there needs nothing to be said of it. I\nshall therefore pass over that chimerical supposition, and consider\nthem as collections of simple ideas in the mind, taken from\ncombinations of simple ideas existing together constantly in things, of\nwhich patterns they are the supposed copies; and in this reference of\nthem to the existence of things, they are false ideas:\u2014(1) When they\nput together simple ideas, which in the real existence of things have\nno union; as when to the shape and size that exist together in a horse,\nis joined in the same complex idea the power of barking like a dog:\nwhich three ideas, however put together into one in the mind, were\nnever united in nature; and this, therefore, may be called a false idea\nof a horse. (2) Ideas of substances are, in this respect, also false,\nwhen, from any collection of simple ideas that do always exist\ntogether, there is separated, by a direct negation, any other simple\nidea which is constantly joined with them. Thus, if to extension,\nsolidity, fusibility, the peculiar weightiness, and yellow colour of\ngold, any one join in his thoughts the negation of a greater degree of\nfixedness than is in lead or copper, he may be said to have a false\ncomplex idea, as well as when he joins to those other simple ones the\nidea of perfect absolute fixedness. For either way, the complex idea of\ngold being made up of such simple ones as have no union in nature, may\nbe termed false. But, if he leaves out of this his complex idea that of\nfixedness quite, without either actually joining to or separating it\nfrom the rest in his mind, it is, I think, to be looked on as an\ninadequate and imperfect idea, rather than a false one; since, though\nit contains not all the simple ideas that are united in nature, yet it\nputs none together but what do really exist together.\n\n19. Truth or Falsehood always supposes Affirmation or Negation.\n\nThough, in compliance with the ordinary way of speaking, I have shown\nin what sense and upon what ground our ideas may be sometimes called\ntrue or false; yet if we will look a little nearer into the matter, in\nall cases where any idea is called true or false, it is from some\nJUDGMENT that the mind makes, or is supposed to make, that is true or\nfalse. For truth or falsehood, being never without some affirmation or\nnegation, express or tacit, it is not to be found but where signs are\njoined or separated, according to the agreement or disagreement of the\nthings they stand for. The signs we chiefly use are either ideas or\nwords; wherewith we make either mental or verbal propositions. Truth\nlies in so joining or separating these representatives, as the things\nthey stand for do in themselves agree or disagree; and falsehood in the\ncontrary, as shall be more fully shown hereafter.\n\n20. Ideas in themselves neither true nor false.\n\nAny idea, then, which we have in our minds, whether conformable or not\nto the existence of things, or to any idea in the minds of other men,\ncannot properly for this alone be called false. For these\nrepresentations, if they have nothing in them but what is really\nexisting in things without, cannot be thought false, being exact\nrepresentations of something: nor yet if they have anything in them\ndiffering from the reality of things, can they properly be said to be\nfalse representations, or ideas of things they do not represent. But\nthe mistake and falsehood is:\n\n21. But are false\u20141. When judged agreeable to another Man\u2019s Idea,\nwithout being so.\n\nFirst, when the mind having any idea, it JUDGES and concludes it the\nsame that is in other men\u2019s minds, signified by the same name; or that\nit is conformable to the ordinary received signification or definition\nof that word, when indeed it is not: which is the most usual mistake in\nmixed modes, though other ideas also are liable to it.\n\n22. Secondly, When judged to agree to real Existence, when they do not.\n\n(2) When it having a complex idea made up of such a collection of\nsimple ones as nature never puts together, it JUDGES it to agree to a\nspecies of creatures really existing; as when it joins the weight of\ntin to the colour, fusibility, and fixedness of gold.\n\n23. Thirdly, When judged adequate, without being so.\n\n(3) When in its complex idea it has united a certain number of simple\nideas that do really exist together in some sort of creatures, but has\nalso left out others as much inseparable, it JUDGES this to be a\nperfect complete idea of a sort of things which really it is not; v.g.\nhaving joined the ideas of substance, yellow, malleable, most heavy,\nand fusible, it takes that complex idea to be the complete idea of\ngold, when yet its peculiar fixedness, and solubility in AQUA REGIA,\nare as inseparable from those other ideas, or qualities, of that body\nas they are one from another.\n\n24. Fourthly, When judged to represent the real Essence.\n\n(4) The mistake is yet greater, when I JUDGE that this complex idea\ncontains in it the real essence of any body existing; when at least it\ncontains but some few of those properties which flow from its real\nessence and constitution. I say only some few of those properties; for\nthose properties consisting mostly in the active and passive powers it\nhas in reference to other things, all that are vulgarly known of any\none body, of which the complex idea of that kind of things is usually\nmade, are but a very few, in comparison of what a man that has several\nways tried and examined it knows of that one sort of things; and all\nthat the most expert man knows are but a few, in comparison of what are\nreally in that body, and depend on its internal or essential\nconstitution. The essence of a triangle lies in a very little compass,\nconsists in a very few ideas: three lines including a space make up\nthat essence: but the properties that flow from this essence are more\nthan can be easily known or enumerated. So I imagine it is in\nsubstances; their real essences lie in a little compass, though the\nproperties flowing from that internal constitution are endless.\n\n25. Ideas, when called false.\n\nTo conclude, a man having no notion of anything without him, but by the\nidea he has of it in his mind, (which idea he has a power to call by\nwhat name he pleases,) he may indeed make an idea neither answering the\nreason of things, nor agreeing to the idea commonly signified by other\npeople\u2019s words; but cannot make a wrong or false idea of a thing which\nis no otherwise known to him but by the idea he has of it: v.g. when I\nframe an idea of the legs, arms, and body of a man, and join to this a\nhorse\u2019s head and neck, I do not make a false idea of anything; because\nit represents nothing without me. But when I call it a MAN or TARTAR,\nand imagine it to represent some real being without me, or to be the\nsame idea that others call by the same name; in either of these cases I\nmay err. And upon this account it is that it comes to be termed a false\nidea; though indeed the falsehood lies not in the idea, but in that\ntacit mental proposition, wherein a conformity and resemblance is\nattributed to it which it has not. But yet, if, having framed such an\nidea in my mind, without thinking either that existence, or the name\nMAN or TARTAR, belongs to it, I will call it MAN or TARTAR, I may be\njustly thought fantastical in the naming; but not erroneous in my\njudgment; nor the idea any way false.\n\n26. More properly to be called right or wrong.\n\nUpon the whole matter, I think that our ideas, as they are considered\nby the mind,\u2014either in reference to the proper signification of their\nnames; or in reference to the reality of things,\u2014may very fitly be\ncalled RIGHT or WRONG ideas, according as they agree or disagree to\nthose patterns to which they are referred. But if any one had rather\ncall them true or false, it is fit he use a liberty, which every one\nhas, to call things by those names he thinks best; though, in propriety\nof speech, TRUTH or FALSEHOOD will, I think, scarce agree to them, but\nas they, some way or other, virtually contain in them some mental\nproposition. The ideas that are in a man\u2019s mind, simply considered,\ncannot be wrong; unless complex ones, wherein inconsistent parts are\njumbled together. All other ideas are in themselves right, and the\nknowledge about them right and true knowledge; but when we come to\nrefer them to anything, as to their patterns and archetypes then they\nare capable of being wrong, as far as they disagree with such\narchetypes.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER XXXIII.\nOF THE ASSOCIATION OF IDEAS.\n\n\n1. Something unreasonable in most Men.\n\nThere is scarce any one that does not observe something that seems odd\nto him, and is in itself really extravagant, in the opinions,\nreasonings, and actions of other men. The least flaw of this kind, if\nat all different from his own, every one is quick-sighted enough to\nespy in another, and will by the authority of reason forwardly condemn;\nthough he be guilty of much greater unreasonableness in his own tenets\nand conduct, which he never perceives, and will very hardly, if at all,\nbe convinced of.\n\n2. Not wholly from Self-love.\n\nThis proceeds not wholly from self-love, though that has often a great\nhand in it. Men of fair minds, and not given up to the overweening of\nself-flattery, are frequently guilty of it; and in many cases one with\namazement hears the arguings, and is astonished at the obstinacy of a\nworthy man, who yields not to the evidence of reason, though laid\nbefore him as clear as daylight.\n\n3. Not from Education.\n\nThis sort of unreasonableness is usually imputed to education and\nprejudice, and for the most part truly enough, though that reaches not\nthe bottom of the disease, nor shows distinctly enough whence it rises,\nor wherein it lies. Education is often rightly assigned for the cause,\nand prejudice is a good general name for the thing itself: but yet, I\nthink, he ought to look a little further, who would trace this sort of\nmadness to the root it springs from, and so explain it, as to show\nwhence this flaw has its original in very sober and rational minds, and\nwherein it consists.\n\n4. A Degree of Madness found in most Men.\n\nI shall be pardoned for calling it by so harsh a name as madness, when\nit is considered that opposition to reason deserves that name, and is\nreally madness; and there is scarce a man so free from it, but that if\nhe should always, on all occasions, argue or do as in some cases he\nconstantly does, would not be thought fitter for Bedlam than civil\nconversation. I do not here mean when he is under the power of an\nunruly passion, but in the steady calm course of his life. That which\nwill yet more apologize for this harsh name, and ungrateful imputation\non the greatest part of mankind, is, that, inquiring a little by the\nbye into the nature of madness, (b. ii. ch. xi., Section 13,) I found\nit to spring from the very same root, and to depend on the very same\ncause we are here speaking of. This consideration of the thing itself,\nat a time when I thought not the least on the subject which I am now\ntreating of, suggested it to me. And if this be a weakness to which all\nmen are so liable, if this be a taint which so universally infects\nmankind, the greater care should be taken to lay it open under its due\nname, thereby to excite the greater care in its prevention and cure.\n\n5. From a wrong Connexion of Ideas.\n\nSome of our ideas have a NATURAL correspondence and connexion one with\nanother: it is the office and excellency of our reason to trace these,\nand hold them together in that union and correspondence which is\nfounded in their peculiar beings. Besides this, there is another\nconnexion of ideas wholly owing to CHANCE or CUSTOM. Ideas that in\nthemselves are not all of kin, come to be so united in some men\u2019s\nminds, that it is very hard to separate them; they always keep in\ncompany, and the one no sooner at any time comes into the\nunderstanding, but its associate appears with it; and if they are more\nthan two which are thus united, the whole gang, always inseparable,\nshow themselves together.\n\n6. This Connexion made by custom.\n\nThis strong combination of ideas, not allied by nature, the mind makes\nin itself either voluntarily or by chance; and hence it comes in\ndifferent men to be very different, according to their different\ninclinations, education, interests, &c. CUSTOM settles habits of\nthinking in the understanding, as well as of determining in the will,\nand of motions in the body: all which seems to be but trains of motions\nin the animal spirits, which, once set a going, continue in the same\nsteps they have been used to; which, by often treading, are worn into a\nsmooth path, and the motion in it becomes easy, and as it were natural.\nAs far as we can comprehend thinking, thus ideas seem to be produced in\nour minds; or, if they are not, this may serve to explain their\nfollowing one another in an habitual train, when once they are put into\ntheir track, as well as it does to explain such motions of the body. A\nmusician used to any tune will find that, let it but once begin in his\nhead, the ideas of the several notes of it will follow one another\norderly in his understanding, without any care or attention, as\nregularly as his fingers move orderly over the keys of the organ to\nplay out the tune he has begun, though his unattentive thoughts be\nelsewhere a wandering. Whether the natural cause of these ideas, as\nwell as of that regular dancing of his fingers be the motion of his\nanimal spirits, I will not determine, how probable soever, by this\ninstance, it appears to be so: but this may help us a little to\nconceive of intellectual habits, and of the tying together of ideas.\n\n7. Some Antipathies an Effect of it.\n\nThat there are such associations of them made by custom, in the minds\nof most men, I think nobody will question, who has well considered\nhimself or others; and to this, perhaps, might be justly attributed\nmost of the sympathies and antipathies observable in men, which work as\nstrongly, and produce as regular effects as if they were natural; and\nare therefore called so, though they at first had no other original but\nthe accidental connexion of two ideas, which either the strength of the\nfirst impression, or future indulgence so united, that they always\nafterwards kept company together in that man\u2019s mind, as if they were\nbut one idea. I say most of the antipathies, I do not say all; for some\nof them are truly natural, depend upon our original constitution, and\nare born with us; but a great part of those which are counted natural,\nwould have been known to be from unheeded, though perhaps early,\nimpressions, or wanton fancies at first, which would have been\nacknowledged the original of them, if they had been warily observed. A\ngrown person surfeiting with honey no sooner hears the name of it, but\nhis fancy immediately carries sickness and qualms to his stomach, and\nhe cannot bear the very idea of it; other ideas of dislike, and\nsickness, and vomiting, presently accompany it, and he is disturbed;\nbut he knows from whence to date this weakness, and can tell how he got\nthis indisposition. Had this happened to him by an over-dose of honey\nwhen a child, all the same effects would have followed; but the cause\nwould have been mistaken, and the antipathy counted natural.\n\n8. Influence of association to be watched educating young children.\n\nI mention this, not out of any great necessity there is in this present\nargument to distinguish nicely between natural and acquired\nantipathies; but I take notice of it for another purpose, viz. that\nthose who have children, or the charge of their education, would think\nit worth their while diligently to watch, and carefully to prevent the\nundue connexion of ideas in the minds of young people. This is the time\nmost susceptible of lasting impressions; and though those relating to\nthe health of the body are by discreet people minded and fenced\nagainst, yet I am apt to doubt, that those which relate more peculiarly\nto the mind, and terminate in the understanding or passions, have been\nmuch less heeded than the thing deserves: nay, those relating purely to\nthe understanding, have, as I suspect, been by most men wholly\noverlooked.\n\n9. Wrong connexion of ideas a great Cause of Errors.\n\nThis wrong connexion in our minds of ideas in themselves loose and\nindependent of one another, has such an influence, and is of so great\nforce to set us awry in our actions, as well moral as natural,\npassions, reasonings, and notions themselves, that perhaps there is not\nany one thing that deserves more to be looked after.\n\n10. As instance.\n\nThe ideas of goblins and sprites have really no more to do with\ndarkness than light: yet let but a foolish maid inculcate these often\non the mind of a child, and raise them there together, possibly he\nshall never be able to separate them again so long as he lives, but\ndarkness shall ever afterwards bring with it those frightful ideas, and\nthey shall be so joined, that he can no more bear the one than the\nother.\n\n11. Another instance.\n\nA man receives a sensible injury from another, thinks on the man and\nthat action over and over, and by ruminating on them strongly, or much,\nin his mind, so cements those two ideas together, that he makes them\nalmost one; never thinks on the man, but the pain and displeasure he\nsuffered comes into his mind with it, so that he scarce distinguishes\nthem, but has as much an aversion for the one as the other. Thus\nhatreds are often begotten from slight and innocent occasions, and\nquarrels propagated and continued in the world.\n\n12. A third instance.\n\nA man has suffered pain or sickness in any place; he saw his friend die\nin such a room: though these have in nature nothing to do one with\nanother, yet when the idea of the place occurs to his mind, it brings\n(the impression being once made) that of the pain and displeasure with\nit: he confounds them in his mind, and can as little bear the one as\nthe other.\n\n13. Why Time cures some Disorders in the Mind, which Reason cannot\ncure.\n\nWhen this combination is settled, and while it lasts, it is not in the\npower of reason to help us, and relieve us from the effects of it.\nIdeas in our minds, when they are there, will operate according to\ntheir natures and circumstances. And here we see the cause why time\ncures certain affections, which reason, though in the right, and\nallowed to be so, has not power over, nor is able against them to\nprevail with those who are apt to hearken to it in other cases. The\ndeath of a child that was the daily delight of its mother\u2019s eyes, and\njoy of her soul, rends from her heart the whole comfort of her life,\nand gives her all the torment imaginable: use the consolations of\nreason in this case, and you were as good preach ease to one on the\nrack, and hope to allay, by rational discourses, the pain of his joints\ntearing asunder. Till time has by disuse separated the sense of that\nenjoyment and its loss, from the idea of the child returning to her\nmemory, all representations, though ever so reasonable, are in vain;\nand therefore some in whom the union between these ideas is never\ndissolved, spend their lives in mourning, and carry an incurable sorrow\nto their graves.\n\n14. Another instance of the Effect of the Association of Ideas.\n\nA friend of mine knew one perfectly cured of madness by a very harsh\nand offensive operation. The gentleman who was thus recovered, with\ngreat sense of gratitude and acknowledgment owned the cure all his life\nafter, as the greatest obligation he could have received; but, whatever\ngratitude and reason suggested to him, he could never bear the sight of\nthe operator: that image brought back with it the idea of that agony\nwhich he suffered from his hands, which was too mighty and intolerable\nfor him to endure.\n\n15. More instances.\n\nMany children, imputing the pain they endured at school to their books\nthey were corrected for, so join those ideas together, that a book\nbecomes their aversion, and they are never reconciled to the study and\nuse of them all their lives after; and thus reading becomes a torment\nto them, which otherwise possibly they might have made the great\npleasure of their lives. There are rooms convenient enough, that some\nmen cannot study in, and fashions of vessels, which, though ever so\nclean and commodious, they cannot drink out of, and that by reason of\nsome accidental ideas which are annexed to them, and make them\noffensive; and who is there that hath not observed some man to flag at\nthe appearance, or in the company of some certain person not otherwise\nsuperior to him, but because, having once on some occasion got the\nascendant, the idea of authority and distance goes along with that of\nthe person, and he that has been thus subjected, is not able to\nseparate them.\n\n16. A curious instance.\n\nInstances of this kind are so plentiful everywhere, that if I add one\nmore, it is only for the pleasant oddness of it. It is of a young\ngentleman, who, having learnt to dance, and that to great perfection,\nthere happened to stand an old trunk in the room where he learnt. The\nidea of this remarkable piece of household stuff had so mixed itself\nwith the turns and steps of all his dances, that though in that chamber\nhe could dance excellently well, yet it was only whilst that trunk was\nthere; nor could he perform well in any other place, unless that or\nsome such other trunk had its due position in the room. If this story\nshall be suspected to be dressed up with some comical circumstances, a\nlittle beyond precise nature, I answer for myself that I had it some\nyears since from a very sober and worthy man, upon his own knowledge,\nas I report it; and I dare say there are very few inquisitive persons\nwho read this, who have not met with accounts, if not examples, of this\nnature, that may parallel, or at least justify this.\n\n17. Influence of Association on intellectual Habits.\n\nIntellectual habits and defects this way contracted, are not less\nfrequent and powerful, though less observed. Let the ideas of being and\nmatter be strongly joined, either by education or much thought; whilst\nthese are still combined in the mind, what notions, what reasonings,\nwill there be about separate spirits? Let custom from the very\nchildhood have joined figure and shape to the idea of God, and what\nabsurdities will that mind be liable to about the Deity? Let the idea\nof infallibility be inseparably joined to any person, and these two\nconstantly together possess the mind; and then one body in two places\nat once, shall unexamined be swallowed for a certain truth, by an\nimplicit faith, whenever that imagined infallible person dictates and\ndemands assent without inquiry.\n\n18. Observable in the opposition between different Sects of philosophy\nand of religion.\n\nSome such wrong and unnatural combinations of ideas will be found to\nestablish the irreconcilable opposition between different sects of\nphilosophy and religion; for we cannot imagine every one of their\nfollowers to impose wilfully on himself, and knowingly refuse truth\noffered by plain reason. Interest, though it does a great deal in the\ncase, yet cannot be thought to work whole societies of men to so\nuniversal a perverseness, as that every one of them to a man should\nknowingly maintain falsehood: some at least must be allowed to do what\nall pretend to, i.e. to pursue truth sincerely; and therefore there\nmust be something that blinds their understandings, and makes them not\nsee the falsehood of what they embrace for real truth. That which thus\ncaptivates their reasons, and leads men of sincerity blindfold from\ncommon sense, will, when examined, be found to be what we are speaking\nof: some independent ideas, of no alliance to one another, are, by\neducation, custom, and the constant din of their party, so coupled in\ntheir minds, that they always appear there together; and they can no\nmore separate them in their thoughts than if they were but one idea,\nand they operate as if they were so. This gives sense to jargon,\ndemonstration to absurdities, and consistency to nonsense, and is the\nfoundation of the greatest, I had almost said of all the errors in the\nworld; or, if it does not reach so far, it is at least the most\ndangerous one, since, so far as it obtains, it hinders men from seeing\nand examining. When two things, in themselves disjoined, appear to the\nsight constantly united; if the eye sees these things riveted which are\nloose, where will you begin to rectify the mistakes that follow in two\nideas that they have been accustomed so to join in their minds as to\nsubstitute one for the other, and, as I am apt to think, often without\nperceiving it themselves? This, whilst they are under the deceit of it,\nmakes them incapable of conviction, and they applaud themselves as\nzealous champions for truth, when indeed they are contending for error;\nand the confusion of two different ideas, which a customary connexion\nof them in their minds hath to them made in effect but one, fills their\nheads with false views, and their reasonings with false consequences.\n\n19. Conclusion.\n\nHaving thus given an account of the original, sorts, and extent of our\nIDEAS, with several other considerations about these (I know not\nwhether I may say) instruments, or materials of our knowledge, the\nmethod I at first proposed to myself would now require that I should\nimmediately proceed to show, what use the understanding makes of them,\nand what KNOWLEDGE we have by them. This was that which, in the first\ngeneral view I had of this subject, was all that I thought I should\nhave to do: but, upon a nearer approach, I find that there is so close\na connexion between ideas and WORDS, and our abstract ideas and general\nwords have so constant a relation one to another, that it is impossible\nto speak clearly and distinctly of our knowledge, which all consists in\npropositions, without considering, first, the nature, use, and\nsignification of Language; which, therefore, must be the business of\nthe next Book.\n\nEND OF VOLUME I","title":"An Essay Concerning Humane Understanding, Volume 1: MDCXC, Based on the 2nd Edition, Books 1 and 2","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":149762}