SI 4 V.2. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY FROM The Sage School of Philosophy Date Due P-C : ; 8 T i;;»u 4 « )\K /^/^/ 1 -i-tr 17L K1£1_J ^Jjiiiii'**- ( ,wy 7*3 ^y^. IM- rT-«. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924092282221 BOHN'S STANDARD LIBRARY. LOCKE'S PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. IT. WITH A GENEKAL INDEX.. THE PHILOSOPHICAL WORKS OF JOHN LOCKE EDITED, WITH A PRELIMINARY ESSAY AND NOTES, BY J. A. ST. JOHN. VOL. II. LONDON: GEORGE BELL & SONS, YORK ST., COVENT GARDEN. AND NEW YORK. 1892. u H ass?»"*%*a=^' %. Cornell Llnlversity ,)■ Tee ' Sago Boliool of !Libr I LOMDON : BZPRIMTED ^BOM THE STEEEOTTPE PISTES BT WM. CLOWEP h SONS, LTD., ::TAUFUBD STAEET AHP GHAEIKO CROSS. '-'.': I II )io:) ^■VI;;ji:.r\M|/, II CONTENTS. AN ESSAY CONCEENING HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. BOOK III. Paga Chap. 1. — Of Words or Language in general 1 ,2. — Of the Signification of Words i 8.— Of General Terms 9 4. — Of the Names of Simple Ideas 21 5 Of the Names of Mixed Modes and Relations 30 6. — Of the Names of Substances 40 7.— Of Particles 74 8. — Of abstract and concrete Tenns 77 9. — Of the Imperfection of Words 79 10.— Of the Abuse of Words 94 H. — Of the Remedies of the foregoing Imperfections and Abuses 113 BOOK IV, Chap. 1. — Of Knowledge in general 129 2. — Of the Degrees of our Knowledge 134 3.— Of the Extent of Human Knowledge 142 4 Of the Reality of Knowledge 1C9 6.— Of Truth in general 181 " CONTEXTS. Chap. 6.— Of Universal Propositions, their Truth and Certainty 188 7.— Of Maxims 201 8. —Of trifling Propositions ^' 9. — Of onr Knowledge of Existence 228 10 — Of our Knowledge of the Existence of a God 229 1] . — Of our Knowledge of the Existence of other Things . 243 1 2. — Of the Improvement of our KnowJ/^dge 252 13. — Some further Considerations concerning our Know- ledge 263 14.— Of Judgment 265 15.— Of Probability 267 16. — Of the Degrees of Assent 271 17. — Of Reason 282 18. — Of Faith and Reason, and their distinct Provinces... 303 19. — Of Enthusiasm 311 20. — Of wrong Assent, or Error 321 21. — Of the Division of the Sciences 336 APPENDIX. CONTROVERSY WITH THE BISHOP OF WORCESTER. Introduction by the Etlltor 339 AN EXAMINATION OF P. MALEBRANCHE'S OPINION OF SEEING ALL THINGS IN GOD ; WITH RE- MARKS UPON SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S B00K3. Introduction by the Editor 413 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHTLOSOPHy. Chap. l.-Of Matter and Motion 2. — Of the Universe 8. — Of our Solar System 472 475 475 CONTENTS. -VU Page. Chap. 4.— Of the Earth, considered a3 a Planet 478 5. — Of the Air and Atmosphere 479 6. — Of Meteors in general 481 7. — Of Springs, Rivers, and the Sea 483 8. — Of several Sorts of Earth, Stones, Metals, Minerals, and other Fossils 485 9.— Of Vegetables, or Plants 486 10.— Of Animals 488 11.— Of the five Senses 490 12.— Of the Understanding of Man 495 SOME THOUGHTS COXCEKNING READING AND STUDY FOR A GENTLEMAN. Introduction by the Editor 497 INDEX 5CJ -..^J^, OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. BOOK III. CHAPTER I. OP WORDS, OR LANGUAGE IN GENERAL. 1 . Man fitted to form articulate Sound/. — God, having de- signed man for a sociable creature, made him not only with an inclination, and under a necessity to have fellowship with those of his own kind, but furnished him also with language, which was to be the great instrument and common tie of society. Man, therefore, had by nature his organs so fashioned, as to be fit to frame articulate sounds, which we call words. But this was not enough to produce language ; for parrots, and several other birds, wiU be taught to- make articulate sounds distinct enough, which yet by no means are capable of language. 2. To make them Signs of Ideas. — Besides articulate sounds, therefore, it was further necessary that he should be able to use these sounds as signs of internal conceptions, and to make them stand as marks for the ideas within his own mind, whereby they might be made known to others, and the thoughts of men's minds be conveyed from one to another. 3. To make general Signs. — But neither was this sufficient to make words so useful as they ought to be. It is not enoiigh for the perfection of language, that sounds can be made signs of ideas, unless those signs can be so made use of as to comprehend several particular things; for the mul- tiplication of words would have perplexed their use, had every particular thing need of a distinct name to be sig- nified by. To remedy this inconvenience, language had yet a further improvement in the use of general terms, whereby one word was made to mark a multitude of particular existences ; which advantageous use o± sounds was obtained vol* IL B 2 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAIfDING. [bOOK IIT. only by the difference of the ideas they were made signs of : those names becoming general, which are made to stand tor general ideas, and those remaining particular, where the ideas they are used for are particular. 4. Besides these names which stand for ideas, there be other words which men make use of, not to signify any idea, but the want or absence of some ideas, simple or complex, or all ideas together ; such as are nihil in Latin, and in English, ignorance and barrenness : all which negative or privative words cannot be said properly to belong to, or signify no ideas ; for then they would be perfectly insignificant sounds ; but they relate to positive ideas, and signify their absence. 5. Words ultimately derived from such as signify sensible Ideas. — It may also lead us a little towards the original of all our notions and knowledge, if we remark how great a dependence our words have on common sensible ideas ; and how those which are made use of to stand for actions and notion.s quite removed from sense, have their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are transferred to more ab- struse significations, and made to stand for ideas that come not under the cognizance of our senses ; v. g., to imagine, apprehend, comprehend, adhere, conceive, instil, disgust, dis- turbance, tranquillity, &c., are all words taken from the ope- rations of sensible things, and applied to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in its primary signification, is breath ; angel, a messenger ; and I doubt not, but if we could trace them to their sources, we should find in all languages the names which stand for things that fall not under our senses, to have had their first rise from sensible ideas. By which we may give some kind of guess what kind of notions they were, and whence deri^-ed, which filled their minds who were the first beginners of languages ; and how nature, even in the naming of things, unawares suggested to men the ori- ginals and principles of all their knowledge ; whilst, to give names that might make known to others any operations they felt in themselves, or any other ideas that came not under their senses, they were fain to borrow words from ordinary known ideas of sensation ; by that means to make others the more easily to conceive those operations they ex- perimented in themselves, which made no outward sensible appearances ; and then, when they had got known and af^i-eed ciiAP. l] of woeds, or languagk in general. 3 names;, to signify those internal operations of their own minds, they were sufficiently famished to make known by words all their other ideas ; since they could consist of nothing but either of outward sensible perceptions, or of the inward ope- rations of their minds about them, we having, as has V)een proved, no ideas at all, but what originally come either from sensible objects without, or what we feel within oureelves, from the inward workings of our own spirits, of which we are conscious to ourselves within. 6. DistribiUion. — But to understand better the use and force of language, as subservient to instruction and know- ledge, it will be convenient to consider : First, To what it is that names, in the use of language, are immediately applied. Secondly, Since all (except proper) names are general, and so stand not particularly for this or that single thing, but for sorts and ranks of things, it will be necessary to consider, in the next place, what the sorts and kinds, oi, if you rather like the Ijatin names, what the species and genera of things are, wherein they consist, and how they come to be mada These being (as they ought) well looked into, we shall the better come to find the right use of words, the natural advantages and defects of language, and the remedies that ought to be used, to avoid the inconveniences of ob- scurity or uncertainty in the signification of words, without which it is impossible to discourse with any clearness or order concerning knowledge ; which, being conversant about propositions, and those most commonly universal ones, has greater connexion with words than perhaps is suspected. These considerations, therefore, shall be the matter of the following chapters.* * See, in Condillac, (Origine des Coonoissances Hum.alnes, Part IL § 1.) an attempt at reconciling the common method of philosophising on the origin of language, with the account delivered in Scripture. He believes that language was originally revealed to man in Paradise ; but in order to gratify the appetite for speculation, indulges in the very im- probable supposition, that two children may have wandered away into the desert before they could speak, and there founded au empire with a new language ; after which he sets himself about discovering the method which in such a case they would be likely to pursue. And this is what H hundred years ago was called philosophy in France ! ^lost persons »rt, acquainted with the story told by Herodotus, concerning the childreu who were cursed by the she-goats, beyond the reach of human language^ b2 OF HUMAN UNDEESTASDIKG. [BOOK III. CHAPTER II. OP THE SIGNIFICATIOK OP WORDS. 1. Words me semihle Signs necessary for Communicatioru —Man, though he has great variety of thoughts, and suc^ from which Others as well as himself might receive prott and delight, yet they are all within his own breast, invisible and hidden from others, nor can of themselves be made to appear. The comfort and advantage of society not being to be had without communication of thoughts, it was necessary that man should find out some external sensible signs, whereof those invisible ideas, which his thoughts _ are made up of, might be made known to others. For this piu-pose nothing was so fit, either for plenty or quickness, as those articulate sounds, which with so much ease and variety he found himself able to make. Thus we may conceive how vrords, which were by nature so well adapted to that purpose, come to be made use of by men as the signs of their ideas ;* not by any natural connexion that there is between par- ticular articulate sounds and certain ideas, for then there would be but one language amongst all men ; but by a volun- tary imposition, whereby such a .word is made arbitrarily the mark of such an idea. The use, then, of words, is to be hensible marks of ideas ; and the ideas they stand for are their proper and immediate signification. 2. Words are * desinens in oonatu veraus exteriora tunicse quae vocatur retina. Sed con.ituB iste ea exteriora Ulud ipsum est quod vocatur lumen, sive phan. ta«ma lucidi; nam propter hoc phantasma est quod objectum, vocatur lucidum." (Phisica oh. 27, § 2.)— Ed. 21) OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK lU simple ideas which common use has made them the signs of. He that thinks otherwise, let him try if any words can give him the taste of a pineapple, and make him have the true idea of the relish of that celebrated delicious fruit. So far as he is told it has a resemblance with any tastes, whereof ho has the ideas already in his memory, imprinted there by sensible objects not strangers to his palate, so far may he approach that resemblance in his mind. But this is not giving us that idea by a definition, but exciting in us other simple ideas by their known names; which will be still very dif- ferent from the true taste of that fruit itself. In light and colours, and all other simple ideas, it is the same thing: for the signification of sounds is not natural, but only imposed and arbitrary. And no definition of light or redness is more fitted or able to produce either of those ideas in us, than the sound light or red by itself. For, to hope to pro- duce an idea of light or colour by a sound, however formed, is to expect that sounds should be visible or colours audible, and to make the ears do the office of all the other senses. Which is all one as to say, that we might taste, smell, and see by the ears — a sort of philosophy worthy only of Sancho Panga, who had the faculty to see Dulciuea by hearsay. And therefore he that has not before received into his mind by the proper inlet the simple idea which any word stands for, can never come to know the signification of that word by any other words or sounds whatsoever, put together according to any rules of definition. The only way is by applying to his senses the proper object, and so producing that idea in liim, for which he has learned the name already. A studious blind man, who had mightily beat his head about visible objects, and made use of the explication of his books and friends, to understand those names of light and colours which often came in his way, bragged one day that he now under- stood what scarlet signified. Upon which, his friend de- manding what scarlet was, the blind man answered, It was like the sound of a trumpet. Just such an understanding of the name of any other simple idea will he have, who hopes to get it only from a definition, or other words made use of 'lO explain it. 12. Tlui conPrary shown in complex Ideas, by Inata/nces of a CHAP. IV.] NAMES OF BIMPLE IDEAS. 27 Staiue amd Eainhow. — The case is quite otherwise in com- plex ideas; ■which, consisting of several simple ones, it is iii the power of words standing for the several ideas that make that composition, to imprint complex ideas in the mind, which were never there before, and so make their names be understood. In such collections of ideas passing under one name, definition, or the teaching the signification of one word by several others, has place, and may make us understand the names of things which never came within the reach of our senses; and frame ideas suitable to those in other men's minds when they use those names : provided that none of the terms of the definition stand for any such simple ideas, which he to whom the explication is made has never yet had in his thought. Thus the word statue may be explained to a blind man by other words, when picture cannot ; his senses having given him the idea of figure,* but not of colours, which therefore words cannot excite in him. This gained the prize to the painter against the statuary: each of which contend- ing for the excellency of his art, and the statuary bragging that his was to be preferred, because it reached further, and even those who had lost their eyes, could yet perceive the excellency of it, the painter agreed to refer himself to the judgment of a blind man; who being brought where there was a statue made by the one, and a picture drawn by the other, he was first led to the statue, in which he traced with his hands all the lineaments of the face and body, and with great admiration applauded the skill of the workman. But being led to the picture, and having his hands laid upon it, was told, that now he touched the head, and then the fore- head, eyes, nose, &c., as his hands moved over the parts of the picture on the cloth, without finding any the least dis- tinction : whereupon he cried out, that certainly that must needs be a very admirable and divine piece of workmanship, which could represent to them all those parts, where he could neither feel nor perceive anything. • In tliis view of the power ef feeling to create ti-ue ideas of figure I perfectly concur ; but it is wholly at rariance with the crotchet advo- cated in a former part of the work, (book 2. ch. ix. § 8. where see note 4,5,) that a man who obtains from the touch only an idea of a cube and the idea of a globe, would not be able by sight to distinguish the one from the other. — ^En. 28 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III, 13. He that should use the word rainbow to one who knew all those colours, but yet had never seen thct phenomenon, would, by enumerating the figure, largeness, position, and order of the colours, so well define that word, that it might be perfectly understood. But yet that definition, how exact and perfect soever, would never make a blind man understand it; because several of the simple ideas that make that complex one being such as he never received by sensation and expe- rience, no words are able to excite them in his mind. 14. Tim same of complex Ideas when to he made intelligible by Words. — Simple ideas, as has been shown, can only be got by experience from those objects which are proper to produce in us those perceptions. "When by this means we have our minds stored with them, and know the names for them, then we are in a condition to define, and by definition to under- stand the names of complex ideas that are made up of them. But when any term stands for a simple idea that a man has never yet had in his mind, it is impossible by any words to make known its meaning to him. When any term stands for an idea a man is acquainted with, but is ignorant that that term is the sign of it, then another name of the same idea which he has been accustomed to, may make him under- stand its meaning. But in no case whatsoever is any name of any simple idea capable of a definition. 15. Fourthly, Names of simple Ideas least dmibtful. — Fourthly, But though the names of simple ideas have not the help of definition to determine their signification, yet that hinders not but that they are generally less doubtful and uncertain than those of mixed modes and substances; because they standing only for one simple perception, men for the most part easily and perfectly agree in their signification; and there is little room for mistake and wrangling about their meaning. He that knows once that whiteness is the name of that colour he has observed in snow or milk, will not be apt to misapply that word as long as he retains that i;1ea; which when he has quite lost, he is not apt to mistake the meaning of it, but perceives he understands it not. There is neither a multiplicity of simple ideas to be put together, which makes the doubtfulness in the names of mixed modes • nor a supposed, but an unknown real essence, with properties depending thereon, the precise number whereof is also uu- CHAP, n'.] NAMES Of SIMPLE IDEAS. 29 known, which makes the difficulty in the names of substancua. But, on the contrary, in simple ideas the whole signification of the name is known at once, and consists not of parts whereof more or less being put in, the idea may be varied, and so the signification of name be obscure or uncertain. 16. Simple Ideas have few Ascents in lined prtBdica/mentali. — Fifthly, This further may be observed concerning simple idea's and their, names, that they have but few ascents in prsedicamentali, (as they call it,) from the lowest species to the summum genus. The reason whereof is, that the lowest species being but one simple idea, nothing can be left out of it; that so the difference being taken away, it may agree with some other thing in one idea common to them both ; which, having one name, is the genus of the other two : v. g., there is nothing that can be left out of the idea of white and red to make them agree in one common appearance, and so have one general name; as rationality being left out of the complex idea of man, makes it agree with brute in the more general idea and name of animal: and therefore when, to avoid unpleasant enumerations men would comprehend both white and red, and several other such simple ideas, under one general name, they have been fain to do it by a word which denotes only the way they get into the mind. For when white, red, and yellow are all comprehended under the genus or name colour, it signifies no more but such ideas as are pro- duced in the mind only by the sight, and have entrance only through the eyes. And when they would frame yet a more general term to comprehend both colours and sounds, and the like simple ideas, they do it by a word that signifies all such as come into the mind only by one sense : and so the general term quality, in its ordinary acceptation, comprehends colours, sounds, tastes, smells, and tangible qualities, with distinction from extension, number, motion, pleasure, and pain, which make impressions on the mind, and introduce their ideas hf more senses than one. 17. S'lMlhly, Names of simple Ideas not at all arhiira/ry. — Sixthly, The names of simple ideas, substances, and mixed modes have also this difierence ; — that those of mixed modes stand for ideas perfectly arbitrary; those of substances are not perfectly so, but refer to a pattern, though with some latitude j and those of simple ideas are perfectly taken from 30 OF HOJIAU UNnEJlSTANDING. [bOOB. UI. the existence of things, and are not arbitrary at all. Which, what difference it makes in the significations of their names, we shall see in the following chapters. The names of simple modes differ little from those of simple ideas. CHAPTER V. OF THE NAMES OF MIXED MODES AND KELATIONS. 1. They xtcmdfor abstract Ideas, as otloer general Names — The names of mixed modes being general, they stand, as has been shown, for sorts or species of things, each of which has its peculiar essence. The essences of these species also, as has been shown, are nothing but the abstract ideas in the mind, to which the name is annexed. Thus far the names and essences of mixed modes have nothing but what is common to them with other ideas : but if we take a little nearer survey of them, we shall find that they have some- thing peculiar, which perhaps may deserve our attention. 2. First, The Ideas they stand for a/re made hy tfie Under- standing. — The first particularity I shall observe in them, is, that the abstract ideas, or, if you please, the essences of the several species of mixed modes, are made by the iinderstand- ing, wherein they differ from those of simple ideas : in which sort the mind has no power to make any one, but only re- ceives such as are presented to it, by the real existence of things operating upon it. 3. Secondly, Made arbitrarily and without Patterns. — In the next place, these essences of the species of mixed modes are not only made by the mind, but made very arbitrarily, made without patterns, or reference to any real existence. Wherein they differ from those of substances, which carry with them the supposition of some real being, from which they are taken, and to which they are conformable. But, in its complex ideas of mixed modes, the mind takes a liberty not to foUow the existence of things exactly. It unites and retains certain collections, as so many distinct specific ideas whilst others, that as often ocoxir in nature, and are as plainly suggested by outward things, pass neglected, without particular names or specifications. Nor does the mind, ia CllAP. V.'J NAMES OF MIXED MODES. ^1 these of mixed modes, as in the complex idea of suhstances, examine them by the re^l existence of thiugsj or veriiy them by patterns containing such peculiar compositions iu natm-e. To know whether his idea of adidterj or incest be right, will a man seek it anywhere aniongst things existing? Or is it true because any one has been witness to such an action! iSTo : but it suffices here, that men have put to- gether such a collection into one complex idea, that makes the archetype and specific idea, whether ever any such action wexe committed in rerum natui-a or no. 4. How this is dona. — ^To understand this right, we must consider wherein this making of these complex ideas con- sists; and that is not in the making any new idea, but putting together those which the mind had before. Wherein the mind does these three things : first, it chooses a certain number; secondly, it gives them connexion, and makes them into one idea; thirdly, it ties them together by a name. If we examine how the mind pi-ix-eeds in these, and what liberty it takes in them, we ^aU easily observe how these essences of the species of mixetl modes are the workmanship of the mind; and. consequently, that the species themselves are of men's making. 0. Ei'identhi arbitran/, in thai the Idea is often hfore the Ex-istence, — Xoboily can doubt but that these ideas of mixetl modes are miide by a volimtary collection of ideas, put to- gether in the min<^ independent fi-om any original patterns in nature, who will but reflect that this sort of complex ide-is may be made, abstracted, and have names given them, and so a species be constituted, before any one individual of that species ever existed. WTio can doubt but the ideas of sacrilege or adultery might be firamed in the minds of men, and ha\"e names given them, and so these species of mixed modes be constituted before either of them was ever com- mitted; and might be as well discoursed of and reasoned abont, tmd as certain truths discovered of them whilst yet they had no being but in the understanding, as well a.s uow. that they have but too frequeutly a real existence! Whereby it is plaiu how much the sorts of mixed modes are the cieatnres of the vrndersfemding, whei'e they have a being as subservient to all the ends of real truth and knowledge, as w^oa they leallr exist And we cannot doubt but law> 32 OP THE HUMAN UNDKRSTA^nDIlfG. [BOOK II. makers have often made laws about species of actions which were only the creatures of their own understandings — beings that had no other existence but in their own minds. And 1 think nobody can deny but that the resurrection was a species of mixed modes in the mind, before it really existed. 6. Instcmces: — Murder, Incest, Stabbing. — To see how arbitrarily these essences of mixed modes are made by the mind, we need but take a view of almost any of them. A little looking into them will satisfy us that it is the mind that combines several scattered independent ideas into one complex one, and, by the common name it gives them, makes them the essence of a certain species, without regulating itself by any connexion they have in nature. For what greater connexion in nature has the idea of a man, than the idea of a sheep, with killing, that this is made a particular species of action, signified by the word murder, and the other not? Or what union is there in nature between the idea of the relation of a father with killing, than that of a son or neighbour, that those are combined into one complex idea, and thereby made the essence of the distinct species parri- cide, whilst the other makes no distinct species at all? But, though they have made killing a man's father or mother a distinct species from killing his son or daughter, yet, in some other cases, son and daughter are taken in too, as well as father and mother: and they are all equally compre- hended in the same species, as in that of incest. Thus the mind in mixed modes arbitrarily unites into complex ideas such as it finds convenient; whilst others that have alto- gether as much union in nature, are left loose, and never combined into one idea, because they have no need of one name. It is evident then that the mind by its free choice gives a connexion to a certain number of ideas, which in nature have no more union with one another than others that it leaves out : why else is the part of the weapon the beginning of the wound is made with taken notice of to make the distinct species called stabbiiig, and the figure and matter of the weapon left out ? I do not say this is done without reason, as we shall see more by and by; but this I says that it is done by the free choice of the mmd, pursuing its own ends; and that, therefore, these species of mixed en A p. V.J NAMES OF MIXED MODES. 33 modes are the workmaTisliip of the understanding: and iherp IS nothing more evident than that, for the most part, in the framing these ideas, the mind searches not its patterns in na- ture, nor refers the ideas it makes to the real existence of things, but puts such together as may best serve its own purposes, without tying itself to a precise imitation of anything that really exists. 7. But still subservient to the End of Language. — But, though these complex ideas or essences of mixed modes depend on the mind, and are made by it with great liberty, yet they are not made at random, and jumbled together without any reason at all. Though these complex ideas be not always copied from nature, yet they are always suited to the end for which abstract ideas are made : and though they be combinations made of ideas that are loose enough. and have as little union in themselves as several other to which the mind never gives a connexion that combines them into one idea, yet they are always made for the convenience of communication, which is the chief end of language. The use of language is, by short sounds to signify with ease and dispatch general conceptions; wherem not only abundance of particulars may be contained, but also a great variety of independent ideas collected into one complex one. In the making therefore of the species of mixed modes, men have had regard only to such combinations as they had occasion to mention one to another: those they have combined into distinct complex ideas, and given names to ; whilst others, that in nature have as near a union, are left loose and un- regarded. For, to go no further than human actions them- selves, if they woidd make distinct abstract ideas of all the varieties which might be observed in them, the number must be infinite, and the memory confounded with the plenty, as well as overcharged to little purpose. It suffices, that men make and name so many complex ideas of these mixed modes as they find they have occasion to have names for, in the ordinary occurrence of their afiairs. If they join to the idea of killing the idea of father or mother, and so make a distinct species from killing a man's son or neighbour, it is because of the difierent heinousness of the crime, and the dis- tinct punishment is due to the murdering a man's father and mother, different from what ought to be inflicted on VOL. II. P 34 OF HUMAX UNDEBSTAOTJUfG. [BOOK in. the murder of a son ov neighbour; and therefore they find it necessary to mention it by a distinct name, which is the end of making that distinct combination. But though the ideas of mother and daughter are so differently treated,_in reference to the idea of killing, that the one is joined with it to make a distinct abstract idea with a name, and so a distinct species, and the other not; yet, in respect of carnal knowledge, they are both taken in under incest : and that still for the same convenience of expressing under one name, and reckoning of one species such imclean mixtures as have a peculiar turpitude beyond others; and this to avoid circum- locutions and tedious descriptions. 8. Whereof the intranslatahle Words of divers Languages are a Proof. — A moderate skill in different languages will easily satisfy one of the truth of this; it being so obvious to observe great store of words in one language which have not any that answer them in another. Which plainly shows that those of one country, by their customs and manner of life, have found occasion to make several complex ideas, and given names to them, which others never collected into spe- cific ideas. This could not have happened if these species were the steady workmanship of nature, and not collections made and abstracted by the mind, in order to naming, and for the convenience of communication. The terms of oui' law, which are not empty sounds, will hardly find words that answer them in the Spanish or Italian, no scanty languages ; much less, I think, could any one translate them into the Caribbee or Westoe tongues : and the Versura* of the Ro- mans, or Corbant of the Jews, have no words in other "This Eoman law-term is thus explained by Festus: — "Versuram facere, mutuam pecunlam sumere ex eo dictum est, quod initio, qui mutuabantui- ab aliis, non ut domum ferrent, sed ut aliis solverent, velut verterent creditorem." (p. 1004, ed. Lond.) A man was said " versu- ram facere, " when he borrowed from one person to pay another. (Dacier, in locum.) — Ed. t Mr. Trollope, in his note on Matthew xv. 5, furnishes a very brief and satisfactory explanation of this term. Prom Mark xv. 11, it ap- pears that S&fov hers interprets the Hebrew word Koptav. The notion of Corban was this : that if a man wished to avoid supporting his parents, or any other duty, he devoted the means of doing so to God ; not indeed with the intention of applying the thing so devoted to sacred pu-rposes, but that the mere saying Let it he Corhan, might make it impossible to itEsign it to the use against which tb« vow was m»de." — Ed. CHAP, v.] NAMES OF MIXED HODES. 35 languages to answer them; the reason whereof is plain, from what has been said. Nay, if we look a little more nearly into this matter, and exactly compare different languages, we shall find, that, though they have words which in trans- lations and dictionaries are supposed to answer one another, yet there is scarce one of ten amongst the names of complex ideas, especially of mixed modes, that stands for the same precise idea, which the word does that in dictionaries it is rendered by. There are no ideas more common and less compounded than the measures of time, extension, and weight ; and the Latin names, hora, pes, libra, are without difficulty rendered by the Engli.'-.h names, hour, foot, and pound : but yet there is nothing more evident than that the ideas a Roman annexed to these Latin names, were very far different from those which an Englishman expresses by those English ones. And if either of these should make use of the measures that those of the other language designed by their names, he would be quite out in his account. These are too sensible proofs to be doubted j and we shall find this much more so in the names of more abstract and compounded ideas, such as are the greatest part of those which make up moral dis- courses; whose names, when men come curiously to compare with those they are translated into, in other languages, they will find very few of them exactly to correspond in the whole extent of their significations. 9. This shows Species to be made /or Communication. — The reason why I take so particular notice of this, is, that we mav not be mistaken about genera and species, and their essences, as if they were things regularly and constantly made by nature, and had a real existence in things; when tliey appear, upon a more wary survey, to be nothing else but an axtifice of the understanding, for the easier signifying such collections of ideas as it should often have occasion to com- municate by one general term; under which divers parti- culars, as far forth as they agreed to that abstract idea, might be comprehended. And if the doubtful signification of the word species may make it sound harsh to some, that I say the species of mixed modes are made by the understanding; yet, I think, it can by nobody be denied that it is the mind makes those abstract complex ideas, to which specific names are given. And if it be true, a.s it is, that the mind makes d2 36 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [^BOOK lU. the patterns for sorting and naming of things, I leave it to be considered who makes the boundaries of the sort or species; since with me species and sort have no other difference than that of a Latin and English idiom. 10. In mixed Modes it is the Name that ties the Combina- tion together, and makes it a Species. — The near relation that there is between species, essences, and their general name — at least in mixed modes— will further appear when we con- sider that it is the name that seems to preserve those essences, and give them their lasting duration. For the connexion between the loose parts of those complex ideas being made by the mind, this union, which has no particular foundation in nature, would cease again, were there not sometKiag that did, as it were, hold it together, and keep the parts from scattering. Though therefore it be the mind that makes the collection, it is the name which is as it were the knot that ties them fast together. What a vast variety of dif- ferent ideas does the word triumph us hold together, and deliver to us as one species! Had this name been never made, or quite lost, we might, no doubt, have had descrip- tions of what passed in that solemnity: but yet, I think, that which holds those different parts together, in the unity of one complex idea, is that very word annexed to it ; with- out which the several parts of that would no more be thought to make one thing, than any other show, which having never been made but once, had never been united into one com- ])lex idea, under one denomination. How much, therefore, in mixed modes, the unity necessary to any essence depends on the mind, and how much the continuation and fixing of that unity depends on the name in common use annexed to it, I leave to be considered by those who look upon essences and species as real established things in nature. 11. Suitable to this, we find that men speaking of mixed modes, seldom imagine or take any other for species of them, but such as are set out by name ; because they being of man's making only, in order to naming, no such species are taken notice of, or supposed to be, unless a name be joined to it, as the sign of man's having combined into one idea several loose ones ; and by that name giving a lasting union to the parts, which would otherwise cease to have any, as soon as the mind laid by that abstract idea, and ceased actually to think OHAP. v.] NAMES OP MIXED MODES. 37 on it. But when a name is once annexed to it, wherein the parts of that complex idea have a settled and permanent union, then is the essence, as it were, established, and the species looked on as complete. For to what purpose should the memory charge itself with such compositions, unless it were by abstraction to make them general 1 And to what purpose make them general, unless it were that they might have general names for the convenience of discourse and communication? Thus we see, that killing a man with a sword or a hatchet are looked on as no distinct species of action; but if the point of the sword first enter the body, it passes for a distinct species, where it has a distinct name; as in England, in whose language it is called stabbing; but in another country, where it has not happened to be specified under a peculiar name, it passes not for a distinct species. But in the species of corporeal substances, though it be the mind that makes the nominal essence; yet since those ideas which are combined in it are supposed to have an union in nature, whether the mind joins them or not, therefore those are looked on as distinct names, without any operation of the mind, either abstracting or giving a name to that com- plex idea. 12. Jfor the Originals of mixed Modes, we look no fv/rther than the Mind, which also shows them to be the Workmanship of the Under sta/mMng. — Conformable also to what has been said concerning the essences of the species of mixed modes, that they are the creatures of the imderstanding rather than the works of nature; conformable, I say, to this, we find that their names lead our thoughts to the mind, and no ftirther. When we speak of justice, or gratitude, we frame to ourselves no imagination of anything existing, which wt, would conceive; but our thoughts terminate in the abstract id'2as of those virtues, and look not further, as they do when we speak of a horse, or iron, whose specific ideas we consider not as barely in the mind, but as in things them- selves, which afford the original patterns of those ideas. But in mixed modes, at least the most considerable parts of them, which are moral beings, we consider the original patterns as being in the mind, and to those we refer for the distinguish- ing of particular beings under names. And henoe I think it j£ that these essences of the species of mixed modes are by a 38 OF HTJMA2J tTNDEESTANDmO. LBOOK lH. more particular name called notions, as, by a peculiar right, appertaining to the understanding. 13. Their being made by the Understanding withmxt Pat- terns, shmvs the Season why they are so compounded. — Hence, likewise, we may learn why the complex ideas of mixed modes are commonly more compounded and decompounded, than those of natural substances; because they being the workmanship of the understanding, pursuing only its own ends, and the conveniency of expressing in short those ideas it would make known to another, it does with great liberty unite often into one abstract idea things, that, in their nature, have no coherence; and so under one term bundle together a great variety of compounded and decompounded ideas. Thus the name of procession, what a great mixture of independent ideas of persons, habits, tapers, orders, motions, sounds, does it contain in that complex one, which the mind of man has arbitrarily put together, to express by that one name ! whereas the complex ideas of the sorts of substances are usually made up of only a small number of simple ones ; and in the species of animals, these two, viz., shape and voice, commonly make the whole nominal essence. 14. JVaines of mixed Modes stand always for their real Essences. — A.nother thing we may observe from what has been said, is, that the names of mixed modes always signify /when they have any determined signification) the real essences of their species. For these abstract ideas being the work- manship of the mind, and not referred to the real existence of things, there is no supposition of anything more signified by that name, but barely that complex idea the mind itself has formed, which is aU it would have expressed by it, and is that on which all the properties of the species depend, and from which alone they all flow : and so in these the real and nominal essence is the same, which, of what concernment it is to the certain knowledge of general truth, we shall see hereafter. 15. Why their N amies are usually got before their Ideas.— This also may show us the reason why for the most part the names of mixed modes are got before the ideas they stand for are perfectly known ; because, there being no species of these ordinarily taken notice of but what have names, and those species, or rather their essences, being abstract complex ideas CHAP. V."| NAMES OF MIXED MODES. 39 made arbitrarily by the mind, it is convenient, if not neces- sary, to know the names, before one endeavour to frame these complex ideas ; unless a man will fill his head with a com- pany of abstract complex ideas, which, others having no names for, he has nothing to do with, but to lay by and forget again. I 'confess, that in the beginning of languages it was necessary to have the idea before one gave it the name, and so it is still, where, making a new complex idea, one also, by giving it a new name, makes a new word. But this concerns not languages made, which have generally pretty well provided for ideas which men have frequent Dccasion to have and communicate; and in such, I ask whe- ther it be not the ordinary method, that children learn the names of mixed modes before they have their ideas? What one of a thousand ever frames the abstract ideas of glory and ambition, before he has heard the names of them? In simple ideas and substances I grant it is otherwise; which, being such ideas as have a real existence and union in nature, the ideas arid names are got one before the other, as it happens. 16. Eeason of my hdng so large on this Subject. — ^What has been said here of mixed modes is, with very little difference, applicable also to relations ; which, since every man himself may observe, I may spare myself the pains to enlarge on: especially, since what I have here said concerning words in this third book, will possibly be thought by some to be much more than what so slight a subject required. I allow it might be brought into a narrower compass; but I was wil- ling to stay my reader on an argument that appears to me new and a little out of the way, (I am sui-e it is one I thought not of when I began to write,) that, by searching it to the bottom, and turning it on every side, some part or other might meet with every one's thoughts, and give occa- sion to the most averse or negligent to reflect on a general miscarriage, which, though of great consequence, is little taken notice of When it is considered what a pudder is made about essences, and how much all sorts of knowledge, discoui-se, and conversation are pestered and disordered by the careless and confused use and application of words, it will perhaps be thought worth while thoroughly to lay it open; and I shall be pardoned if I have dwelt long on an 40 OP HUMAN UNDEKSTANDING. [bOOK III. argument which I think, therfifore. needs to be inculcated, because the faults men are usually guilty of in this kind, are not only the greatest hindrances of true knowledge, but are so well thought of as to pass for it. Men would often see what a small pittance of reason and truth, or possibly none at all, is mixed with those huffing opinions they are swelled with, if they would but look beyond fashionable sounds, and observe what ideas are or are not comprehended under those words with which they are so armed at all points, and with which they so confidently lay about them. I shall imagine I have done some service to truth, peace, and learning, if, by any enlargement on this subject, I can make men reflect on their own use of language, and give them reason to suspect, that, since it is frequent for others, it may also be possible for them to have sometimes very good and approved words in their mouths and writings, with very uncertain, little, or no signification. And therefore it is not unreasonable for them to be wary herein themselves, and not to be unwilling to have them examined by others. With this design, there- fore, I shall go on with what I have further to say concerning this matter. CHAPTER VI. OF THE NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 1. The common Ncmrns of Svhstanoes stand for Sorts. — The common names of substances, as well as other general terms, stand for sorts; which is nothing else but the being made signs of such complex ideas, wherein several particular sub- stances do or might agree, by virtue of which they are capable of being comprehended in one common conception, and signified by one name. I say do or might agree, for though there be but one sun existing in the world, yet the idea of it being abstracted, so that more substances (if there were several) might each agree in it, it is as much a sort as if there were as many suns as there are stars.* They want not their reasons who think there are, and that each fixed star would answer the idea the name sun stands for, • Modern astronomy has ascertaiuud, that the stars are in reality S\ius; tliatia, the cuutres of systems liJie our own. — Ed. CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SXJBSTANCES. 41 to one who was placed in. a due distance; which, by the way, may show us how much the sorts, or, if you please, genera and species of things (for those Latin terms signify to me no more than the English word sort) depend on such collections of ideas as men have made, and not on the real nature of things; since it is not impossible but that, in propriety of speech, that might be a sun to one which is a star to another. 2. The Essence of each Sort is the abstract Idea. — The measure and boundary of each sort or species whereby it is constituted that particular sort, and distinguished from others, is that we caE its essence, which is nothing but that abstract idea to which the name is annexed; so that eveiy- thing contained in that idea is essential to that sort. This, though it be all the essence of natural substances that we know, or by which we distinguish them into sorts, yet I call it by a peculiar name, the nominal essence, to distinguish it from the real constitution of substances, upon which depends this nominal essence, and all the properties of that sort; which, therefore, as has been said, may be called the real essence ; v. g., the nominal essence of gold is that complex idea the word gold stands for, let it be, for instance, a body yellow, of a certain weight, malleable, fusible, and fixed. But the real essence is the constitution of the insensible parts of that body, on which those quaKties and all the other properties of gold depend. How far these two are different, though they are both called essence, is obvious at first sight to discover. 3. The nominal and Essence different. — For though per- haps voluntary motion, with sense and reason, joined to a body of a certain ^ape, be the complex idea to which I and others annex the name man, and so be the nominal essence of the species so called, yet nobody wiU say that complex idea is the real essence and source of all those operations which are to be found in any individual of that sort. The foundation of all those qualities which are the in- gredients of our complex idea, is something quite different : and had we such a knowledge of that constitution of man, from which his faculties of moving, sensation, and reasoning; and other powers flow, and on which his bo regular shape depends, as it is possible angels have, and it is certain his 4a OF HUMAN UKDEBSTANDING. [BOOK IH Maker has, ve should have a quite other idea of his easeiice than -what now is contained in our definition of that specie!, bo it what it will; and our idea of any individual man would be as far difierent from what it is now, as is his who knows all the springs and wheels and other contrivances within of the famous clock at Strasburg, from that which a gazing countryman has for it, who barely sees the n otion of the hand, and hears the clock strike, and observes only some of the outward appearances.* .4. Nothing essential to Individuals. — That essence, in the ordinary use of the word, relates to sorts, and that it is con- sidered in particular beings no further than as they are ranked into sorts, appears from hence : that, take but away the abstract ideas by which we sort individuals, and rank them under common names, and then the thought of any- thing essential to any of them instantly vanishes ; we have no notion of the one without the other, which plainly shows their relation. It is necessary for me to be as I am; God and nature has made me so ; but there is nothing I have is essential to me. An accident or disease may very much alter my colour or shape ; a fever or fall may take away my reason or memory, or both, and an apoplexy leave neither sense nor understanding, no, nor life. Other creatures of my shape may be made with more and better, or fewer and worse faculties than I have; and others may have reason and sense in a shape and body very diiferent from mine. None of these are essential to the one or the other, or to any in- dividual whatever, till the mind refers it to some sort or species of things ; and then presently, according to the * Several of our older travellers have spoken of the great clock at Strasburg, but Skippon's brief description vriU suffice to give the reader who happens not to have the othei-s at hand, a, sufficient idea of this curious piece of mechanism : " We saw here the famous clock described by Tom Coryat. Towards the bottom is a great circle, with the car lendar, (a figure pointing to the day of the month,) and within that are fifteen other cii-cles, each being divided into one hundred parts, the calendar lasting from 1573 to 1672. In the middle is a map of Germany, and on It is written, ' Oonradus Basypodim et David Wolkenstein Vratist dedgnabant Tkohias Stunner, pingeiat, A. n. MDLXxin.' The clock-work was made by one Isaac Habrechtus, of Strasburg. When the clock strikes, a little figure keeps time at every stroke, with a sceptre, and another figure tiivns an hour-glass, and twelve apostles follow one another, »ud a cook crows." (Ap. Churchill, Vd. VI 457.) — Ec. CHAP. VI.] NAMES OP SDBSTAlfCBS. 43 abstract idea of that sort, something is founJ essenliaL Let any one examine his own thoughts, and he wil find that as soon as he supposes or speaks of essential, the consi- deration of some species, or the complex idea signified by some general name comes into his mind; and it is in re- ference to that, that this or that quality is said to be essential. So that if it be asked, whether it be essential to me or any other particular corporeal being to have reason? I say, noj no more than it is essential to this white thing T write on to have words in it. But if that particular being be to be counted of the sort man, and to have the name man given it, then reason is essential to it, supposing reason to be a part of the complex idea the name man stajids for; as it is essential to this thing I write on to contain words if I wil] give it the name treatise, and rank it under that species. So that essential and not essential relate only to our abstract ideas, and the names annexed to them; which amounts to no more than this, that whatever particular thing has not in it those qaalities which are contained in the abstract idea which any general term stands for, cannot be ranked under that species nor be called by that name, since that abstract idea is the very essence of that species. 5. Thus, if the idea of body with some people be bare ex- tension or space, then solidity is not essential to body; if others make the idea to which they give the name body to be solidity and extension, then solidity is essential to body. That, therefore, and that alone is considered as essential, which makes a part of the complex idea the name of a sort stands for, without which no particular thing can be reckoned of that soi-t, nor be entitled to that name. Should thei-e be found a parcel of matter that had all the other qualities that are in iron, but wanted obedience to the loadstone, and would neither be drawn by it nor receive direction from it, would any one question whether it wanted anything essential? It would be absurd to ask, whether a thing really existing wanted anything essential to it; or could it be demanded, whether this made an essential or specific difierei'ce or not, since we have no other measure of essential or specific but our abstract ideas ? And to talk of specific differences in nature, without reference to general ideas in names, is to talk unintelligibly. For I would ask any one, what is 4,4 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. sufficient to make an essential diflference in nature between any two particular beings, without any regard had to some abstract idea, which is looked upon as the essence and standard of a spooies? AU such patterns and standards being quite laid aside, particular beings, considered barely in themselves, will be found to have aU their quahties equally essential; and everything in each indi-i-idual will be essential to it, or, which is more, nothing at all. For though it may be reasonable to ask, whether obeying the magnet be essen- tial to iron? yet I think it is very improper and insig- nificant to ask, whether it be essential to the particular parcel of matter I cut my pen with, without considering it under the name iron, or as being of a certain species? And if, as has been said, our abstract ideas which have names annexed to them are the boundaries of species, nothing can be essential but what is contained in those ideas. 6. It is true, I have often mentioned a real essence, distinct in substances from those abstract ideas of them, which I call their nominal essence. By this real essence I mean the real constitution of anything, which is the foundation of aU those properties that are combined in, and are constantly found to co-exist with the nominal essence; that particular constitu- tion which everything has within itself, without any relation to anything without it. But essence, even in this sense, relates to a sort, and supposes a species ; for being that real constitution on which the properties depend, it necessarily supposes a sort of things, properties belonging only to species, and not to individuals; v. g, supposing the nominal essence of gold to be a body of such a peculiar colour and weight, with malleability and fusibility, the real essence is that con- stitution of the parts of matter on which these qualities and their union depend; and is also the foundation of its solu- bility in aqua regia and other properties, accompanying that complex idea. Here are essences and properties, but all upon supposition of a sort or general abstract idea, which is con- sidered as immutabl''; but there is no individual parcel of matter to which any of these qualities are so annexed as to be essential to it or inseparable from it. That which is essen- tial belongs to it as a condition, whereby it is of this or that sort; but take away the consideration of its being ranked under the name of souiB abstract idea, and then there in (JHAP. VI. 1 NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 45 nothing necessary to it, nothing inseparable from it. In- deed, as to the real essences of substances, we only suppose their being, without precisely knowing what they are ; but that which annexes them still to the species is the nominal essence, of which they are the supposed foundation and cause. 7. The nominal Essence boimds the Species. — The next thing to be considered is, by which of those essences it is that substances are determined into sorts or species j and that, it is evident, is by the nominal essence; for it is that alone that the name, which is the mark of the sort, signifies. It is impossible, therefore, that anything should determine the sorts of things, which we rank under general names, but that idea which that name is designed as a mark for; which is that, as has been shown, which we call nominal essence. Why do we say this is a horse, and that a mule ; this is an an animal, that an herb 1 How comes any particular thing to be of this or that sort, but because it has that nominal essence, or, which is all one, agrees to that abstract idea that name is annexed to? And I desire any one but to reflect on his own thoughts, when he hears or speaks any of those or other names of substances, to know what sort of essences they stand for. 8. And that the species of things to us are nothing but the ranking them under distinct names, according to the complex ideas in us, and not according to precise, distinct, real essences in them, is plain from hence : that we find many of the indi- viduals that are ranked into one sort, called by one common name, and so received as being of one species, have yet qua- lities depending on their real constitutions, as far difierent one fi-om another as from others from which they are accounted to difier specifically. This, as it is easy to be, observed by all who have to do with natural bodies, so chemists especially are often, by sad experience, convinced of it, when they, sometimes in vain, seek for the same qualities in one parcel of sulphur, antimony, or vitriol, which they have found in others. Tor, though they are bodies of the same species, having the same nominal essence, under the same name, yet do they often, upon severe ways of examina- tion, betray qualities so difierent one from another, as to frustrate the expectation and labour of very wary chemists 46 OP niniAS understanding. [book rn. But if things were distinguished into species, a(;cording to their real essences, it would be as impossible to find different properties in any two individual substances of the same species, as it is to find different properties in two circles, or two equilateral triangles. That is properly the essence to us, which determines every particular to this or that classis; or, which is the same thing, to this or that general name: and what can that be else, but that abstract idea to which that name is annexed; and so has, in truth, a reference, not so much to the being of particular things, as to their general denominations? 9. Not tliA real Essence, which we know not. — Nor indeed can we rank and sort things, and consequently (which is the end of sorting) denominate them by their real essences; be- cause we know them not. Our faculties carry us no further towards the knowledge and distinction of substances, than a collection of those sensible ideas which we observe in them; which, however made with the greatest diligence and exact- ness we are capable of, yet is more remote from the true internal constitution from which those qualities flow, than, as I said, a countryman's idea is from the inward contrivance of that famous clock at Strasburg, whereof he only sees the outward figure and motions. There is not so contemptible a plant or animal, that does not confound the most enlarged understanding. Though the familiar use of things about ua take off our wonder, yet it cures not our ignorance. When we come to examine the stones we tread on, or the iron we daily handle, we presently find we know not their make, and can give no reason of the different qualities we find in them. It is evident the internal constitution, whereon their proper- ties depend, is unknown to ns ; for to go no further than the grossest and most obvious we can imagine amongst them, what is that texture of parts, that real essence, that makea ,lead and antimony fusible, wood and stones not? "What makes lead and iron malleable, antimony and stones noti And yet how infinitely these come short of the fine contri- vances and inconceivable real essences of plants or animals, every one knows. The workmanship of the all-wise and powerful God in the great fabric of the universe, and every part thereof, further exceeds the capacity and comprehension of the most inquisitive and intelligent man, than the beS CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 47 contrivance of the most ingenious man doth the eonceptiona of the most ignorant of rational creatures. Therefore we in vain pretend to range things into sorts, and dispose them into certain classes under names, by their real essences, that are so far from our discovery or comprehension. A blind man may as soon sort things by their colours, and he that has lost his smell as well distinguish a lily and a rose by their odours, as by those internal constitutions which he knows not. He that thinks he can distinguish sheep and goats by their real essences, that are unknown to him, may be pleased to try his skill in those species called cassiowary and querechinchio, and by their internal real essences deter- mine the boundaries of those species, without knowing the complex idea of sensible qualities that each of those names stand for, in the countries where those animals are to be found. 10. Not substantial Forms, which we know less. — Those, therefore, who have been taught that the several species of substances had their distinct internal substantial forms; and that it was those forms which made the distinction of sub- stances into their true species and genera, were led yet fur- ther out of the way by having their minds set upon fruitless inquiries after substantial forms, whoUy unintelligible, and whereof we have scarce so much as any obscure or confused conception in general. 11. That tfie nominal Essence is that whereby we distinguish Species, fv/rther evident from Spirits. — That our ranking and distinguishing natural substances into species consists in the -nominal essences the mind makes, and not in the real es- sences to be found in the things themselves, is further evident from our ideas of spirits ; for the mind getting only by re- flecting on its own operations those simple ideas which it attributes to spirits, it hath or can have no other notion of spirit but by attributing all those operations it finds in itself to a sort of beings, without consideration of matter. And even the most advanced notion we have of God is but attri- buting the same simple ideas which we have got from reflec- tion on what we find in ourselves, and which we conceive to have more perfection in them than would be in their ab- sence; attributing, I say, those simple ideas to him in an unlimited degree, rhus, having gfot from reflecting on our- 48 OF HUMAN tOTDEBSTANDING. [BOOK nl, selves the idea of existence, knowledge, power, and pleasure — each of which we find it better to have than to want; and the more we have of each the better — joining all these together, with infinity to each of them, we have the complex idea of an eternal, omniscient, omnipotent, infinitely wise and happy being. And though we are told that there are difierent species of angels ; yet we know not how to frame distinct specific ideas of them : not out of any conceit that the existence of more species than one of spirits is impossi- ble, but because having no more simple ideas (nor being able to frame more) applicable to such beings, but only those few taken from ourselves, and from the actions of our own minds in thinking, and being delighted, and moving several parts of our bodies, we can no otherwise distinguish in our conceptions the several species of spirit^ one from another, but by attributing those operations and powers we find in ourselves to them in a higher or lower degree; and so have no very distinct specific ideas of spirits, except only of Gtod, to whom we attribute both duration and all those other ideas with infinity; to the other spirits, with limitation. Nor, as I humbly conceive, do we, between God and them in our ideas, put any difference by any number of simple ideas which we have of one and not of the other, but only that of infinity.* All the particular ideas of existence, knowledge, will, power, and motion, (fee, being ideas derived from the operations of our minds, we attribute all of them to all sorts of spirits, with the difference only of degrees, to the utmost we can imagine, even infinity, when we would frame as well as we can an idea of the first being; who yet, it is certain, is infinitely more remote, in the resd excellency of his nature, from the highest and perfectest of all creaited * Hence the employment of angels as agents in poetry always proves a. cold and lifeless contrivance, compared, at least, with the introduction of human actors. We can scarcely be made to sympathize with natures entirely unknown to us ; and it is only by regarding God as the author of our existence, as our great parent, that we can be said actually to love him. He is to us what a father is to the child who has never seen him. Our own existence proves his — our intelligence his wisdom our happiness his goodness — our afflictions the existence of sin, and the ne- cessity of chastisement. We can therefore love God with an affectionate love, with a love which constitutes the purest bliss of all who feel it But of angels we know nothing. — Ed. CHAP. VT.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 40 beiags, than the greatest man, nay, purest seraph, is froip the most contemptible part of matter; and consequently must infinitely exceed what our narrow understanding^ can conceive of him. 12. Whereof there wre prdbaMy nuTnherlesa Species. — It i" not impossible to conceive nor repugnant to reeison, that there may be many species of spirits, as much separated and diversified one from another by distinct properties whereof we have no ideas, as the species of sensible things are dis- tinguished one from another by qualities which we know and observe in them. That there should be more species of intelligent creatures above us than there are of sensible and material below us, is probable to me from hence, that in all the visible corporeal world, we see no chasms or gaps.* All quite down from us the descent is by easy steps, and a con- tinued series of thiiigs, that in each remove differ very little one from the other. There ai-e fishes that havfe wings, and are not strangers to the airy region; and there are some birds that are inhabitants of the water whose blood is cold as fishes, and their flesh so like in taste, that the scrupulous are allowed them on fish-days. There are animals so near of kin both to birds and beasts that they are in the middle between both : amphibious animals link the terrestrial and aquatic together; seals live at land and sea, and poriwises have the warm blood and entrails of a hog, not to mention what is confidently reported of mermaids, or sea-men. There are some brutes that seem to have as much knowledge and * Pope has clothed this opinion with exquisite versification; and, in itself, it is not, though a, mere conjecture, inconsistent with phi- losophy. It will, however, occur to eveiy man, that between the highest of created beings and his Creator, there must always be an inHnite gap. The very terms Creator and created suggest thus much. However, Pope escapes all difficulties by the brevity of his exposition. which will admit of more than one interpretation : — " See, through this air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progressive life may go ! Around, how wide ! how deep extend below ! Vast chain of being ! wHch from God iegcm, feature's ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach from injinite to thee, From thee to nothing. "—Essay on Man, 1. § 8.— Ed. VOL. II B 50 OF HUMAJy DHDERSTANDING. [uOOK III. reason as some that are called menj and the animal and v&- getable kingdoms are so nearly joined, that, if you will take the lowest of one and the highest of the other, there will scarce be perceived any great difference between them; and so on, till we come to the lowest and the most inorganical parts of matter, we shall find everywhere that the several species are linked together, and differ but in almost insensible degrees. And when we consider the infinite power and wisdom of the Maker, we have reason to think that it is suitable to the magnificent harmony of the universe, and the great design and infinite goodness of the Architect, that the species of creatures should also, by gentle degrees, ascend upward from us toward his infinite perfection, as we see they gradually descend from us downwards : which if it be pro- bable, we have reason then to be persuaded that there are far more species of creatures above us than there are be- neath : we being, in degrees of perfection, much more remote from the infinite being of God than we are from the lowest state of being, and that which appx'oaches nearest to nothing. And yet, of all those distinct species, for the reasons above- said, we have no clear distinct ideas. 13. Ths nominal Essence that of the Species, proved from Water and Ice. — But to return to the species of corporeal substances. If I should ask any one whether ice and water were two distinct species of things, I doubt not but I should be answered in the affirmative : and it cannot be denied but he that says they are two distinct species is in the right. But if an Englishman bred in Jamaica, who perhaps had never seen nor heard of ice, coming into England in the winter, find the water he put in his basin at night in a great part frozen in the morning, and, not knowing any peculiar name it had, should call it hardened water; I ask whether this would be a new species to him different from water? And I think it would be answered here, it would not be to him a new species, no more than congealed jelly, when it is cold, is a distinct species from the same jelly fluid and warm; or than liquid gold in the furnace is a distinct species from hard gold in the hands of a workman. And if this be so, it is plain that our distinct species are nothing but distinct complex ideas, with distinct names annexed to them. It is irue every substance that exists has its peculiar constitution, OHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCBS. 51 whereou depend those sensible qualities and powers we ob- serve in it ; but the ranking of things into species (which is nothing but sorting them under several titles) is done by us according to the ideas that we have of them : which, though sufficient to distinguish them by names, so that we may be able to discourse of them when we have them not present before us; yet if we suppose it to be done by their real in- ternal constitutions, and that things existing ar3 distinguished by nature into species by real essences, according as we dis- tinguish them into species by names, we shall be liable to great mistakes. 14. Difficulties against a certain Nwmh&r of real Essences. — To distinguish substantial beings into species, according to the usual supposition, that there are certain precise essences or forms of things, whereby all the individuals existing are by nature distinguished into species, these things are necessary : — 15. First, to be assured that nature in the production of things always designs them to partake of certain regulated established essences, which are to be the models of all things to be produced. This, in that crude sense it is usually pro- posed, would need some better explication before it can fiilly be assented to. 16. Secondly, It would be necessary to know whether nature always attains that essence it designs in the produc- tion of things. The irregular and monstrous births, that in divers sorts of animals have been observed, will always give us reason to doubt of one or both of these. 17. Thirdly, It ought to be determined whether those we call monsters be really a distinct species, according to the scholastic notion of the word species ; since it is certain that everything that exists has its particular constitution : and yet we find that some of these monstrous productions have few or none of those qualities which are supposed to result from, and accompany the essence of that species from whence they derive their originals, and to which, by their descent, they seem to belong. 18. Owr nomimal Essences of SuhstoMces not perfect Collec- tions of Properties. — Fourthly, The real essences of those things which we distinguish into species, and as so distin- guished we name, ought to be known ; i. e., we ought to have ideas of them. But since we are ignorant in these four E 2 52 OF HUMAN UNBEESTAITDING. ["bOOK IH points, the supposed real essences of things stand us not in stead for the distinguishing substances into species. 19. Fifthly, The only imaginable help in this case -would be, that, having framed perfect complex ideas of the pro- perties of things flowing from their different real essences, we should thereby distinguish them into species. But nei- ther can this be done : for being ignorant of the real essence itself, it is impossible to know all those properties that flow from it, and are so annexed to it, that any one of them being away, we may certainly conclude that that essence is not there, and so the thing is not of that species. "We can never know what is the precise number of properties depending on the real essence of gold, any one of which failing, bhe real essence of gold — and consequently gold — would not be there, unless we knew the real essence of gold itself, and by that determined that species. By the word gold here, I must be understood to design a particular piece of matter ; v. g., the last guinea that was coined. For if it should stand here in its ordinary signification for that complex idea, which I or any one else calls gold; i. e., for the nominal essence of gold, it would be jargon ; so hard is it to show the various mean- ing and imperfection of words, when we have nothing else but words to do it by. 20. By all which it is clear, that our distinguishing sub- stances into species by names, is not at all founded on their real essences; nor can we pretend to range and determine them exactly into species, according to internal essential differences. 21. But such a Collection as owr Name stands for. — But since, as has been remarked, we have need of general words, though we know not the real essences of things; all we can do is to collect such a number of simple ideas as by examina- tion we find to be united together in things existing, and thereof to make one complex idea. Which, though it be not the real essence of any substance that exists, is yet the spe- cific essence to which our name belongs, and is convertible with it ; by which we may at least try the truth of these nominal essences. For example : there be that say that the essence of body is extension : if it be so, we can never mis- take in putting the essence of anything for the thing itself. Let us then in discourse put extension for body, and when 0H.4.P. VI.] NAMES OP SUBSTANCES. 53 we would say that body moves, let us say ttat extension moves, and see how ill it will look. He that should say that one extension by impulse moves another extension, would, by the bare expression, sufficiently show the absurdity of such a notion. The essence of anything in respect of us, is the whole complex idea comprehended and marked by that name; and in substances, besides the several distinct simple ideas that make them up, the confused one of substance, or of an unknown support and cause of their union, is always a part : and therefore the essence of body is not bare extension, but an extended solid thing: and so to say an extended solid thing moves or impels another, is all one and as intel- ligible as to say, body moves or impels. Likewise to say that a rational animal is capable of conversation, is all one as to say a man; but no one will say that rationality is capable of conversation, because it makes not the whole essence to which we give the name man. 22. Our abstract Ideas a/re to us the Measures of Species: Instance in iltat of Ma~i. — There are creatures in the world that have shapes bke ours, but are hairy, and want language and reason. There are naturals amongst us that have per- fectly our shape, but want reason, and some of them lan- guage too.* There are creatures, as it is said, ("sit fides * Several French caturalista — as M. Bory de St. Vincent and M. Lesson — finding it difficult to mark the points by which man is distin- guished from the inferior animals, appear somewhat desirous altogether to lose sight of them. They seem to be animated by a passion to re- semble the brutes, and consequently to catch with extraordinary delight at whatsoever seems, in their view, to establish the relationship of man to the orang-outang. ''Homme, enorgueilli de ton enveloppe ext^r- ieure! " exclaims Lesson, with ludicrous emphasis, "des traits que dana ta vanity tu as os^ comparer k ceux de la Divinity ! 6tre fragile, ego'iste, dont la vie s'&arte dans des acts vicieux, d^guises aveo plus ou moins d'art, meconnois si tu le peux, ta parents avec lea ora/ngsl" (Histoire dea Mammifferes, t. iii. p. 260, etseq.) Such h writer may feel in him- self some relationship to the orang, and rejoice in it, but it is hardly fair in him to speak thus confidently in behalf of us all. In the same spirit which, among certain classes, obtains the name of philosophy, M. de St. Vincent seeks to humble human pride. "Par une singularity digne de remarque," he says, "pour rejeter les orangs parmi les singes et ceux-ci parmi les bStes brutes, en conservant \ I'honmie toute la. dignity qu'il s'arroge, on argue d' un avantage incontestable que possederaient les einges et lea orangs. En effet, quatre mains ne vaudraient elks pai mieiix que deux, commes iUmens de perfectabiliteV (L'Homme, i. 44.) But, if so, M. de St. Vincent should explain to us how it has happeneu that the two hands have proved too ■mawy for the fow- — Ed. 54 OP HUMAN tTNDEBSTAlTDriSrG. [bOOK TIL penes authorem," but there appears no conti-adiction that there should be such,) that, with language and reason and a shape in other things agreeing with ours, have hairy tails; others where the males have no beards, and others where the females have. If it be asked whether these be all men or no, — all of human species? it is plain, the question refers only to the nominal essence : for those of them to whom the defi- nition of the word man, or the complex idea signified by that name, agrees, are men, and the other not. But if the inquiry be made concerning the supposed real essence, and whether the internal constitution and frame of these several sreatures be specifically difierent, it is wholly impossible for us to answer, no part of that going into our specific idea; only we have reason to think, that where the faculties or outward frame so much difiers, the internal constitution is not exactly the same. But what difierence in the real in- ternal consiljution makes a difierence it is in vain to inquire; whilst our measures of species be, as they are, only our ab- stract ideas, which we know ; and not that internal constitu- tion which makes no part of them. Shall the difierence of hair only on the skin be a mark of a difierent internal specific constitution between a changeling and a drill, when they agree in shape, and want of reason and speech? And shall not the want of reason and speech be a sign to us of different real constitutions and species between a change- ling and a reasonable man? And so of the rest, if we pre- tend that distinction of species or sorts is fixedly established by the real frame and secret constitutions of things. 23. Species not distinguished hy Generation. — Nor let any one say, that the power of propagation in animals by the mixture of male and female, and in plants by seeds, keeps the supposed real species distinct and entire. For, granting this to be true, it would help us in the distinction of the species of things no further than the tribes of animals and vegetables. What must we do for the rest? But in those too it is not sufficient : for if history lie not, women have conceived by drills; and what real species by that measure such a production will be in nature, will be a new question : and we have reason to think this is not impossible, since mules and jumarts — ^the one from the mixture of an ass and a mare, the other from the mixture of a bull and a mare are so frequent in the world. I once aaw a creature that CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 55 was the issue of a cat and a rat, and had the plain marks of both about it; wherein nature appeared to have followed the pattern of neither sort alone, but to have jumbled them to- gether. To which he that shall add the monstrous produc- tions that are so frequently to be met with in nature, will find it hard, even in the race of animals, to determine by the pedigree of what species every animal's issue is; and be at a loss about the real essence, which he thinks certainly con- veyed by generation, and has alone a right to the specific name. But further, if the species of animals and plants are to be distinguished only by propagation, must I go to the Indies to see the sire and dam of the one, and the plant from which the seed was gathered that produced the other, to know whether this be a tiger or that tea? 24. Not hy substantial Forms. — Upon the whole matter, it is evident that it is their own collections of sensible quali- ties that men make the essences of their several sorts of substances ; and that their real internal structures are not considered by the greatest part of men in the sorting them. Much less were any substantial forms ever thought on by any but those who have in this one part of the world learned the language of the schools : and yet those ignorant men who pretend not any insight into the real essences, nor trouble themselves about substantial forms, but are content with knowing things one from another by their sensible qualities, are often better acquainted with their differences, can more nicely distinguish them from their uses, and better know what they expect from each, than those learned quick- sighted men who look so deep into them, and talk so confi- dently of something more hidden and essential. 25. The specifio Essences made by the Mind. — But sup- posing that the real essences of substances were discoverable by those that would severely apply themselves to that in- quiry, yet we could not reasonably think that the ranking oi things under general names was regulated by those internal real constitutions, or anything else but their obvious appear- ances; since languages, in all countries, have been established long before sciences. So that they have not been philo- sophers or logicians, or such who have troubled themselves about forma and essences that have made the general names that are in use amongst the several nations of men: but 56 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK 113. those more or less comprehensive terms have, for the most part, in all languages, received their birth and signification from ignorant and illiterate people, who sorted and deno- minated things hj those sensible qualities they found in them ; thereby to signify them, when absent, to othera, whether they had an occasion to mention a sort or a par- ticular thing. 26. Therefore very various amd uncertain. — Since then it is evident that we sort and name substances by their nominal and not by their real essences, the next thing to be consi- dered is, how and by whom these essences come to be made. As to the latter, it is evident they are made by the mind, and not by nature : for were they N'ature's workmanship, they could not be so various and different in several men as experience tells us they are. Eor if we will examine it, we shall not find the nominal essence of any one species of sub- stances in all men the same: no, not of that which of all others we are the most intimately acquainted with. It could not possibly be, that the abstract idea to which the name man is given should be different in several men, if it were of Nature's making; and that to one it should be "animal rationale," and to another, "animal implume bipes latis unguibuH." He that annexes the name man to a complex idea made up of sense and spontaneous motion, joined to a body of such a shape, has thereby one essence of the species man; and he that, upon further examination, adds ra- tionality, has another essence of the species he calls man : by which means the same individual will be a true man to the one, which is not so to the other. I think there is scarce any one will allow this upright figure, so well known, to be the essential difference of the species man; and yet how far men determine of the sorts of animals rather by their shape than descent, is very visible : since it has been more than once debated, whether several human foetuses should be preserved or received to baptism or no, only be- cause of the difference of their outward configuration from the ordinary make of children, without knowing whether they were not as capable of reason as infants cast in another mould : some whereof, though of an ajjproved shape, are never capable of as much appearance of reason all their lives as is to be found in an ape, or an elephant, and never OaAP. VT.] . NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 57 give any signs of being acted by a rational soul. Whereby it is evident, that the outward figure, which only was found wanting, and not the faculty of reason, which nobody could know would be wanting in its due season, was made essential to the human species. The learned divine and lawyer must, on such occasions, renounce his sacred definition of " animal rationale," and substitute some other essence of the human species. Monsieur Menage furnishes us with an example worth the taking notice of on this occasion : " When the abbot of St. Martin," says he, " was born, he had so little of the figure of a man, that it bespake tn'm rather a monster. It was for some time under deliberation, whether he should be baptized or no. However, he was baptized, and declared a man provisionally; — ^till time should show what he would prove. Nature had moulded him so untowardly, that he was called all his life the Abbot Malotru; i. e., ill-shaped. He was of Caen." (Menagiana, 278, 430.) This child, we see, was very near being excluded out of the species of man, barely by his shape. He escaped very narrowly as he was; and it is certain, a figure a little more oddly turned had cast him, and he had been executed,* as a thing not to be allowed to pass for a man. And yet there can be no reason given why, if the lineaments of his face had been a little altered, a rational soul could not have been lodged in him ; why a visage somewhat longer, or a nose flatter, or a wider mouth, could not have consisted, as well as the rest of his ill figure, with such a soul, such parts, as made him — disfigured as he was — capable to be a dignitary in the church. 27. Wherein, then, would I gladly know, consist the pre- cise and unmovable boundaries of that species? It is plain, if we examine, there is no such thing made by Nature, and estabKshed by her amongst men. The real essence of that or any other sort of substances, it is evident, we know not; and therefore are so undetermined in our nominal essences, which we make ourselves, that, if several men were to be asked concerning some oddly-shaped foetus, as soon as * Wiat ia the rule now observed by those who decide on the execu- tion of monsters ? Does the law determine ? This should be inquired into: for acts are constantly perpetrated in society, of which pubho opinion can talse no hold, on account of the obscurity that surroundji them. — Ed. 58 OF HUMAN trNDERSTAHDING. [eOOK IH, born, whether it were a man or no, it is past doubt one should meet with different answers. Which could not happen, if the nominal essences whereby we limit and distinguish the species of substances were not made by man with some liberty; but were exactly copied from precise boundaries set by nature, whereby it distinguished all substances into cer- tain species. Who would undertake to resolve what species that monster was of, which is mentioned by Licetus, (hb. i. c. 3^ with a man's head and hog's body? Or those other, which to the bodies of men had the heads of beasts, as dogs, horses, &c. If any of these creatures had lived, and could have spoke, it would have increased the difficulty. Had the upper part to the middle been of human shape, and all below swine, had it been murder to destroy it? Or must the bishop have been consulted, whether it were man enough to be ad mitted to the font or no? as I have been told it happened in France some years since, in somewhat a like case.* So un- <;ertain are the boundaries of species of animals to us, who have no other measures than the complex ideas of our own collecting : and so far are we from certainly knowing what a man is; though perhaps it will be judged great ignorance to make any doubt about it. And yet, I think I may say that the certain boundaries of that species are so far from being determined, and the precise number of simple ideas which make the nominal essence, so far from being settled and perfectly known, that very material doubts may stiU arise about it. And I imagine none of the deiinitions of the word man which we yet have, nor descriptions of that sort of animal, are so perfect and exact as to satisfy a considerate inquisitive person; much less to obtain a general consent, and to be that which men would everywhere stick by in the decision of cases, and determining of life and death, baptism or no baptism, in productions that might happen. 28. But not so a/rhitrwry as inixed Modes. — But though these nominal essences of substances are made by the mind, they are not yet made so arbitrarily as those of mixed modes. * However this queation may be decided, the opinions of learned writers on the formation of monsters are exceedingly curious; but Bartholin, I think, stands alone in attributing the whole to the agency of comets, in his "Consilium Medlcum, cum Monstrorem in Danl^ Natorum Historia." — Ed. CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. fi9 To the making of any nominal essence, it is necessary, First, that the ideas whereof it consists have such a union as to make but one idea, how compounded soever. Secondly, that the particular idea so united be exactly the same, neither more nor less. For if two abstract complex ideas differ either in number or sorts of their component parts, they make two different, and not one and the same essence. In the first of these, the mind, in making its complex ideas of substances, only follows nature; and puts none together which are not supposed to have a union in nature. Nobody ioins the voice of a sheep with the shape of a horse, nor the colour of lead with the weight and fixedness of gold, to be the complex ideas of any real substances; unless he has a mind to fill his head with chimeras, and his discourse with unintelligible words. Men observing certain qualities always joined and existing together, therein copied nature ; and of ideas so united made their complex ones of substances. For, though men may make what complex ideas they please, and give what names to them they will; yet, if they will be un- derstood when they speak of things really existing, they must in some degree conform their ideas to the things they would speak of; or else men's language will be like that oi Babel; and every man's words, being intelligible only to himself, would no longer serve to conversation and the ordi- nary affairs of life, if the ideas they stand for be not some way answering the conunon appearances and agreement of substances as they really exist. 29. Though very vmperfect. — Secondly, Though the mind of man, in making its complex ideas of substances, never puts any together that do not really or are not supposed to co-exist ; and so it truly borrows that union fi:om nature : yet the number it combines depends upon the various care, industry, or fancy of him that makes it. Men generally content themselves with some few sensible obvious qualities ; and often, if not always, leave out others as material and as firmly united as those that they take. Of sensible substances there are two sorts : one of organized bodies, which are pro- pagated by seed ; and in these the shape is that which to us is the leading quality and most characteristical part that determines the species. And therefore, in vegetables and animals, an extended solid substance of such a certain figure 60 OF HUMAN JNDEESTANMNG. fBOOK III, usually serves: the turn. For however some meu seem to prize their definition of " animal rationale," yet should there a creature be found that had language and reason, but par- took not of the usual shape of a man, I believe it would hardly pass for a man, how much soever it were " animal rationale." And if Balaam's ass had all his life discoursed as rationally as he did once with his master, I doubt yet whether any one would have thought him worthy the name man, or allowed him to be of the same species with himself. As in vegetables and animals it is the shape, so in most other bodies not propagated by seed, it is the colour we most fix on, and ai-e most led by. Thus, where we find the colour of gold, we are apt to imagine all the other qualities com- prehended in our complex idea to be there also: and we commonly take these two obvious qualities, viz., shape and colour, for so presumptive ideas of several species, that, in a good picture, we readily say this is a lion, and that a rose ; this is a gold, and that a silver goblet, only by the difierent figures and colours represented to the eye by the pencil. 30. Which yet serve for common Gomeerse. — But though this serves well enough for gross and confused conceptions, and inaccurate ways of talking and thinking; yet men are far enough from having agreed on the precise number of simple ideas or qualities belonging to any sort of things, signified by its name. Nor is it a wonder; since it requires much time, pains, and skill, strict inquiry, and long exami- nation to find out what and how many those simple ideas are, which are constantly and inseparably united in nature, and are always to be found together in the same subject. Most men wanting either time, inclination, or industry enough for this, even to some tolerable degree, content them- selves with some few obvious and outward appearances of things, thereby readily to distinguish and sort them for the common afiairs of life : and so, without fui-ther examination give them names, or take up the names already in use. Which, though in common conversation they pass well enough for the signs of some few obvious qualities co-existing, are yet far enough from comprehending, in a settled signification, a precise number of simple ideas, much less all those which are united in nature. He that shall consider, after so much stir about genus and species, and such a deal of talk of spe- CHAr VI.] NAMES OP SUBSTANCES. 61 cific differences, how few words we have yet settle.! defini- tions of, may with reason imagine that those forms whicli there hath been so much noise made about are only chimeras, which give us no light into the specific natures of things. And he that shall consider how far the names of substances are from having significations wherein all who use them do agree, will have reason to conclude that, though the nominal essences of substances are all supposed to be copied from nature, yet they are all or most of thom very imperfect. Since the composition of those complex ideas are, in several men, very different : and therefore that these boundaries of species are as men, and not as Nature, makes them, if at least there are in nature any such prefixed bounds. It is true that many pai-ticular substances are so made by Nature, that they have agreement and likeness one with another, and so afford a foundation of being ranked iato sorts. But the sort- ing of things by us, or the making of determinate species, being in order to naming and comprehending them under general terms, I cannot see how it can be properly said, that Nature sets the boundaries of the species of things : or, if it be so, our boundaries of species are not exactly conformable to those in nature. For we having need of general names lor present use, stay not for a perfect discovery of all those qua- lities which wotild best show us their most material differences and agreements; but we ourselves divide them by certain obvious appearances into species, that we may the easier under general names communicate our thoughts about them. For having no other knowledge of any substance but of the simple ideas that are united in it; and observing several par- ticular things to agree with others in several of those simple ideas, we make that collection our specific idea, and give it a general name; that in recording our thoughts, and in our discourse with others, we may in one short word designate all the individuals that agree in that complex idea, without enumerating the simple ideas that make it up; and so not waste our time and breath in tedious descriptions ; which we see they are fain to do who would discourse of any new sort of things they have not yet a name foi". 31. Essences of Speaks under the sa/ine Name very dif ferent. — But however these species of substances pass well enough in ordinary conversation, it is plain that this com- 62 OP HUMAN UNDEESTAKDIWa [bOOK IIL plex idea, wherein they observe several individuals to agree, is by different men made very differently ; by some more, and others less accurately. In some, this complex idea contains a greater, and in others a smaller number of qualities, and so is apparently such as the mind makes it. The yellow shining colour makes gold to children; others add weight, malleableness, and fusibility; and others yet other qualities, which they find joined with that yellow colour, as constantly as its weight and fusibility : for in all these and the like qualities one has as good a right to be put into the complex idea of that substance wherein they are all joined, as another. And therefore different men leaving out or putting in several simple ideas which others do not, according to their various examination, skill, or observation of that subject, have different essences of gold, which m.ust, therefore, be of their own and not of nature's making. 32. The more general our Ideas are, the more inco-mpleie and pa/rtial they are. — If the number of simple ideas that make the nominal essence of the lowest species, or first sort- ing of individuals, depends on the mind of man variously collecting them, it is much more evident that they do so in the more comprehensive classes, which, by the masters of logic, are called genera. These are complex ideas designedly imperfect; and it is visible at first sight, that several of those qualities that are to be found in the things themselves, are purposely left out of generical ideas. For as the mind, to make general ideas comprehending several particulars, leaves out those of time and place, and such other that make them incommunicable to more than one individual ; so to make other yet more general ideas that may comprehend different sorts, it leaves out those qualities that distinguish them, and puts into its new collection only such ideas as are common to several sorts. The same convenience that made men ex- press several parcels of yellow matter coming from Guinea and Peru under one name, sets them also upon making of one name that may comprehend both gold and silver and some other bodies of different sorts. This is done by leaving out those qualities, which are peculiar to each sort, and re- taining a complex idea made up of those that are common to them all; to which the name metal being annexed, there is a CSHAP. VI.J NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 63 genus constituted, the essence whereof being that abstract idea, containing only malleableness and fusibility, with cei> tain degrees of weight and fixedness, wherein some bodies or several kinds agree, leaves out the colour and other qualities peculiar to gold and silver, and the other sprts comprehended under the name metal. Whereby it is plain, that men follow not exactly the patterns set them by nature when they make their general ideas of substances, since there is no body to be found which has barely malleableness and fusibility in it, without other qualities as inseparable as those. But men, in making their general ideas, seeking more the convenience of language and quick dispatch by short and comprehensive signs, than the true and precise nature of things as they exist, have, in the framing their abstract ideas, chiefly pur- sued that end, which was to be furnished with store of general and variously comprehensive names. So that in this whole business of genera and species, the genus, or more comprehensive, is but a partial conception of what is in the species, and the species but a partial idea of what is to be found in each individual. If, therefore, any one wiU think that a man, and a horse, and an animal, and a plant, &c., are distinguished by real essences made by nature, he must think nature to be very liberal of these real essences, making one for body, another for an animal, and another for a horse, and all these essences liberally bestowed upon Bucephalus. But if we would rightly consider what is done in all these genera and species, or sorts, we should find that there is no new thing made, but only more or less comprehensive signs, whereby we may be enabled to express in a few syllables great numbers of particular things, as they agree in more or less general conceptions, which we have framed to that pur- pose. In all which we may observe, that the more general term is always the name of a less complex idea, and that each genus is but a partial conception of the species com- prehended under it, So that if these abstract general ideas be thought to be complete, it can only be in respect of a cer- tain established relation between them and certain names which are made use of to signify them, and not in respect of anything existing, as made by nature. 33. This all accormnodated to the end of Speech. — This is it^usted to th« true exiA of speech, which is to be the easiest 64 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTANDIIfG. [bOOK III and shortest way of communicating our notions. For, thus he that would discourse of things as they agreed in the complex ideas of extension and solidity, needed but use the word body to denote all such. He that to these would join others, signified by the words life, sense, and spontaneous motion, needed but use the word animal to signify all which partook of those ideas; and he that had made a complex idea of a body, with life, sense, and motion, with the faculty of reasoning, and a certain shape joined to it, needed but use the short monosyllable, man, to express all particulars that correspond to that complex idea. This is the proper busi- ness of genus and species ; and this men do without any consideration of real essences, or substantial forms, which come not within the reach of our knowledge when we think of those things, nor within the signification of our words when we discourse with others. 34. Instance in Cassowaries. — Were I to talk with any one of a sort of birds I lately saw in ISt. James's Park, about three or four feet high, with a covering of something between feathers and hair, of a dark brown colour, without wings, but in the place thereof two or three little branches coming down like sprigs of Spanish broom, long great legs, with feet only of three claws, and without a tail, I must make this description of it, and so may make others under- stand me; but when I am told that the name of it is cassuaris, I may then use that word to stand in discourse for all my complex idea mentioned in that description; though by that word, which is now become a specific name, I know no more of the real essence or constitution of that sort of animals than I did before ; and knew probably as much of the nature of that species of birds before I learned the name, as many Englishmen do of swans or herons, which are specific names, very well known, of sorts of birds common in England. 35. Men delermme the Sorts. — From what has been said- it is evident that men make sorts of things; for it being different essences alone that make different species, it is plain that they who make those abstract ideas which are the nominal essences, do thereby make the species, or sort. Should there be a body found, having all the other qualities of gold, except malleableness, it woi Id no doubt be made a CHAP TI. NAMES OP SUBSTAN0E3. ^ question vhether it were gold or not, i. e., whether it were of that species. This could be determined only by that abstract idea to wliich every one annexed the name gold ; so that it would be true gold to him, and belong to that species, who included not maUeableness in his nominal essence, signified by the sound gold; and on the other side it would not be true gold, or of that species to him who in- cluded malleableness in his specific idea. And who, I pray, is it that make these diverse species even under one and the same name, but men that make two difTerent abstract ideas consisting not exactly of the same collection of quali- ties? Nor is it a mere supposition to imagine that a body may exist, wherein the other obvious qualities of gold may be without maUeableness ; since it is certain that gold itself will be sometimes so eager, (as artists call it,) that it will as little endure the hammer as glass itself. What we have said of the putting in or leaving malleableness out of the com- plex idea the name gold is by any one annexed to, may be said of its peculiar weight, fixedness, and several other the like qualities; for whatsoever is left out or put in, it is still the complex idea to which that name is annexed that makes the species; and as any particular parcel of matter answers that idea, so the name of the sort belongs truly to it, and it is of that species. And thus anything is true gold, perfect metal. AU which determination of the species, it is plain, depends on the understanding of man, making this or that complex idea. 36. Natwre makes the Similitude. — This, then, in short, is the case. Nature makes many particular things which do agree one with another in many sensible qualities, and probably too in their internal frame and constitution : but it is not this real essence that distinguishes them into species; it is men, who, taking occasion from the qualities they find nnited in them, and wherein they observe often several in- dividuals to agree, range them into sorts, in order to their naming, for the convenience of comprehensive signs; under which individuals, according to their conformity to this or that abstract idea, come to be i-anked as under ensigns ; so that this is of the blue, that the red regiment; this is a man, that a drill; and ia this, I think, consists the whole business of genus and species. VOL. II. V 66 OF HUMAN UNDEESTANDISS. [bOOK IIX. 37. I do not deny but nature, in the constant production of particular beings, makes them not always new and various, but very much alike and of kin one to another; but I think it nevertheless true, that the boundaries of the species, whereby men sort them, are made by men ; since the essences of the species, distinguished by different names, are, as has been proved, of man's making, and seldom adequate to the internal nature of the things they are taken from. So that we may truly say, such a manner of sorting of things is the workmanship of men. 38. Each abstract Idea is cm Essence. — One thing I doubt not but wiU seem very strange in this doctrine, which is, that from what has been said it wiU follow, that each abstract idea with a name to it, makes a distinct species. But who can help it, if truth wiU have it so? Por so it must remain till somebody can show us the species of things limited and distinguished by something else ; and let us see that general terms signify not our abstract ideas, but something different from them. I would fain know why a shock and a hound are not as distinct species as a spaniel and an elephant. We have no other idea of the different essence of an elephant and a spaniel, than we have of the different essence of a shock and a hound; all the essential difference whereby we know and distinguish them one from another, consisting only in the different collection of simple ideas, to which we have given those different names 39. Genera and Species a/re in order to nuTning. — How much the making of species and genera* is in order to general names, and how much general names are necessary, if not to the being, yet at least to the completing of a species, and making it pass for such, will appear, besides what ha.-i been said above concerning ice and water, in a very familiai example. A silent apd a striking watch are but one specios to those who have but one name for them ; but he that has the name watch for one, and clock for the other, and distinct complex ideas to which those names belong, to him they are different species. It will be said perhaps, that the inward * On the signification of theae terms whicli occur so frequently in Locke, and in all writers on natural history, see the explanation of Dr. Prichard, in his "Researches into the Physical History of Maukini" VoL I. p. 105 et seci.— Ed CHAP. VI.l NAMES OF SUBSTANOES. 67 contrivance and constitution is different between these two, wMoli the watchmaker has a clear idea of. And yet it is plain they are but one species to him, when he has but one name for them; for what is sufficient in the inward con- trivance to make a new species] There are some watches that are made with four wheels, others with five; is this a specific difference to the workman? Some have strings and physies, and others none ; some have the balance loose, and others regulated by a spiral spring, and others by hogs' bristles : are any or all of these enough to make a specific difference to the workman, that knows each of these and several other different contrivances in the internal consti- tutions of watches? It is certain each of these hath a real diffei-ence from the rest; but whether it be an essential, a specific difference or not, relates only to the complex idea to which the name watch is given : as long as they all agree in the idea which that name stands for, and that name does not as a generical name comprehend different species under it, they are not essentially nor specifiTally different. But if any one will make minuter divisions from differences that he knows in the internal frame of watches, and to such precise complex ideas give names that shall prevail; they will then be new species to them who have those ideas with names to them, and can by those differences distinguish watches into these several sorts, and then watch will be a generical name. But yet they would be no distinct species to men ignorant of clock-work and the inward contrivances of watches, who had no other idea but the outward shape and bxilk, with the marking of the hours by the hand. For to them all those other names would be but synonymous terms for the same idea, and signify no more, nor no other thing but a watch. Just thus I think it is in natural things. Nobody wiU doubt that the wheels or springs (if I may so say) within, are dif- ferent in a rational man and a changeling; no more than that there is a difference in the frame between a drill and a changeling. But whether one, or both the diflerenoes be essential or specitical, is only to be known to us by their agreement or disagreement with the complex idea that the name man stands for: for by that alone can it be deter- unned whether one or both, or neither of those be a man. 40. Species of A rHficial Thiruis has confused than Natvrxni, V 2 fifl OF HUMAN UNDEKSTANBINO. [BOOK UI. — Fiom what has been before said, we may see the reason why, in the species of artificial things, there is generaJIy less confusion and uncertainty than in natural. Because an arti- ficial thing being a production of man which the artificer designed, and therefore well knows the idea of, the name of it is supposed to stand for no other idea, nor to import any- other essence than what is certainly to be known, and easy enough to be apprehended. For the idea or essence of the several sorts of artificial things consisting, for the most part, in nothing but the determinate figure of sensible parts ; and some- times motion depending thereon, which the artificer fashions in matter, such as he finds for his turnj it is not beyond the reach of our faculties to attain a certain idea thereof, and to settle the signification of the names whereby the species of artificial things are distinguished with less doubt, obscurity, and equivocation, than we can in things natural, whose dif- ferences and operations depend upon contrivances beyond the reach of our discoveries. 41. Artificial Things of distinct Species. — I must be ex- cused here if I think artificial things are of distinct sjjecies as well as natural: since I find they are as plainly and orderly ranked into sorts, by difierent abstract ideas, with general names annexed to them, as distinct one from another as those of natural substances. For why should we not think ■ a watch and pistol as distinct species one from another, as a horse and a dog; they being expressed in our minds by distinct ideas, and to others by distinct appellations? 42. SubstciMces alone have proper Names. — This is further to be observed concerning substances, that they alone of all our several sorts of ideas have particular or proper names, whereby one only particular thing is signified. Because in simple ideas, modes, and relations, it seldom happens that men have occasion to mention often this or that particular when it is absent. Besides, the greatest part of mixed modes, being actions which perish in their birth, are not capable of a lasting duration as substances, which are the actors; .and wherein the simple ideas that make up the complex ideas designed by tlie name have a lasting union. 13. Biffixulty to treat of Words. — I must beg pardon of my reader for having dwelt so long upon this subject, and peihaps with some obsouiity. But I desire it may be considered how CHAP. TI.] NAJIES OP SUBSTAHOES. 69 difficult it is to lead another by -words into the thoughts of things, stripped of those specifical differences we give them : which things, if I name not, I say nothing ; and if I do name them, I thereby rank them into some sort or other, and sug- gest to the mind the usual abstract idea of that species, and so cross my purpose. For to talk of a man, and to lay by, at the same time, the ordinary signification of the name man, which is our complex idea usually annexed to it, and bid the reader consider man as he is in himself, and as he is really distinguished from others in his internal constitution, or real essence, that is, by something he knows not what, looks like trifling; and, yet, thus one must do who would speak of the supposed real essences and species of things, as thought to be made by nature, if it be but only to make it understood that there is no such thing signified by the general names which substances are called by. But because it is difficult by known familiar names to do this, give me leave to endeavour by an example to make the different consideration the mind has of specific names and ideas a little more clear; and to show how the complex ideas of modes are referred sometimes to archetypes in the minds of other intelligent beings; or, which is the same, to the signification annexed by others to their received names ; and sometimes to no archetyiies at all. Give me leave also to show how the mind always refers its ideas of substances, either to the substances themselves or to the signification of their names as to the archetypes; and also to make plain the nature of species or sorting of things, as apprehended and made use of by us; and of the essences belonging to those species, which is perhaps of more moment to discover the extent and certainty of our knowledge than we at first imagine. 44. Instances of mixed Modes in Tmuneah and niowph. — Let us suppose Adam in the state of a grown man, with a good understanding, but in a strange country, with all things new and unknown about him, and no other faculties to attain the knowledge of them but what one of this age has now. He observes Lamech more melancholy than usual, and imagines it to be from a suspicion he has of his wife Adah, (whom he most ardently loved,) that she had too much kindness for another man. Adam discourses these his thoughts to Eve, and desires her to take care that Adah commit not folly ; rO OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. aud in these discourses witli Eve he makes use of these two new words kinneah and niouph. In time, Adam's mistake appears, for he finds Lameoh's trouble proceeded from having killed a man : but yet the two names kinneah and niouph, (the one standing for suspicion in a husband of his wife's disloyalty to him, and the other for the act of committing disloyalty,) lost not their distinct significations. It is plain, then, that here were two distinct complex ideas of mixed modes with names to them, two distinct species of actions essentially different ; I ask wherein consisted the essences of these two distinct species of actions 1 And it is plain it con- sisted in a precise combination of simple ideas, different in one from the other. I ask, whether the complex idea in Adam's mind, which he called kinneah, were adequate or not ? And it is plain it was ; for it being a combination of simple ideas, which he, without any regard to any archetype, without respect to anything as a pattern, voluntarily put together, abstracted, and gave the name kinneah to, to express in short to others, by that one sound, all the simple ideas contained and united in that complex one ; it must necessarily follow that it was an adequate idea. His own choice having made that combination, it had all in it he intended it should, and so could not but be perfect, could not but be adequate, it being referred to no other archetype which it was supposed to represent. 45. These words, kinneah and niouph, by degrees grew into common use, and then the case was somewhat altered. Adam's children had the same faculties, and thereby the same power that he had, to make what complex ideas of mixed modes they pleased in their own minds ; to abstract them, and make what sounds they pleased the signs of them ; but the use of names being to make our ideas within us known to others, that cannot be done, but when the same sign stands for the same idea in two who would communicate their thoughts and discourse together. Those, therefore, of Adam's children, that found these two wards, kinneah and niouph, in familiar use, » -tould not take them for insignificant sounds, but must needa conclude they stood for something ; for certain ideas, aostract ideas ; they being general names, which abstract ideas were the essences, of the species distinguished by those names. If, therefore, they -would use these v.-ords as names of species CHAP. VI.] NAMES OF SUBSTANCES. 71 already established and agreed on, they were obliged to con- form the ideas in their minds, signified by these names, to the ideas that they stood for in other men's minds, as to their patterns and archetypes; and then indeed their ideas of these complex modes were liable to be inadequate, as being very apt (especially those that consisted of combinations of many simple ideas) not to be exactly conformable to the ideas in other men's minds, using the same names ; though for this there be usually a remedy at hand, which is to ask the meaning of any word we understand not of him that uses it ; it being as impossible to know certainly what the words jealousy and adultery (which I think answer nsjp and fiixj) stand for in another man's mind, with whom I would dis- course about them ; as it was impossible, in the beginning of language, to know what kinneah and niouph stood for in another man's mind, without explication, they being voluntary signs in every one. 46. Instance of Svhstamces in Zahah. — Let us now also consider, after the same manner, the names of substances in their first application. One of Adam's children, roving in the mountains, lights on a glittering substance which pleases his eye ; home he carries it to Adam, who, upon considera- tion of it, finds it to bo hard, to have a bright yellow colour, and an exceeding great weight. These perhaps, at first, are all the qualities he takes notice of in it ; and abstracting chis complex idea, consisting of a substance having that pecu- liar bright yellowness, and a weight very great in proportion •.J its bulk, he gives it the name zahab, to denominate and mark all substances that have these sensible qualities in them. It is evident now, that, in this case, Adam acts quite differently from what he did before in forming those ideas of mixed modes, to which he gave the names kinneah and niouph : for there he puts ideas together only by his own imagination, not taken from the existence of anything : and to them he gave names to denominate all things that should happen to agree to those his abstract ideas, without consi- dering whether any siich thing did exist or not ; the standard there was of his own making. But in the forming his idea of this new substance, he takes the quite contrary course ; here he has a standaa-d made by nature ; and therefore, being to represent that to himself by the idea he hae of it, even wiie«ii 72 07 HUMAN UNDERSTAJJDING. [bOOK 111 it is absent, lie puts in no simple idea into his complex one, but what he has the perception of from the thing itself. He takes care that his idea be conformable to this archetype, and intends the name should stand for an idea so conformable. 47. This piece of matter, thus denominated zahab by Adam, being quite different from any he had seen before, nobody, I think, will deny to be a distinct species, and to have its peculiar essence, and that the name zahab is the mark of the species, and a name belonging to all things partaking in that essence. But here it is jilain the essence Adam made the name zahab stand for was nothing but a body hard, shining, yellow, and very heavy. But the inqui- sitive mind of man, not content with the knowledge of these, as I may say, superficial qualities, puts Adam on further examination of this matter. He therefore knocks and beats it with flints, to see what was discoverable in the inside : he finds it yield to blows, but not easily separate into pieces ; he finds it will bend without breaking. Is not now ductility to be added to his former idea, and made part of the essence of the species that name zahab stands for ? Further trials dis- cover fusibility and fixedness. Are not they also, by the same reason that any of the others were, to be put into the com- plex idea signified by the name zahab 1 If not, what reason will there be shown more for the one than the other 1 If these must, then all the other properties, whicn any further trials shall discover in this matter, ought by the same reason to make a part of the ingredients of the complex idea which the name zahab stands for, and so be the essence of the species marked by that name : which properties, because they are endless, it is plain that the idea made after this fashion by this archetype will be always inadequate. 48. Their Ideas imper/eci, cmd therefore various. — But this is not all ; it would also foUow that the names of substances would not only have (as in truth they have) but would also be supposed to have different significations, as used by differ- ent men, which would very much cumber the use of language. For if every distinct quality that were discovered in any matter by any one were supposed to make a nece.ssary part of the complex idea signified by the common name given to it, it must follow, that men must suppose the same word to signify different things in differiait men ; since thev cannot CHAP. VI,] NAMES OF SUBSTANCEa 72 doubt but different men may have discoverpd several qualities in substances of the same denomination, which others know nothing of. 49. Therefore, to fix tlieir Species, a real Essence is supposed. — To avoid this, therefore, they have supposed a real essence belonging to every species, from which these properties all flow, and would have their name of the species stand for that. But they not having any idea of that real essence in sub- stances, and their words signifying nothing but the ideas they have, that which is done by this attempt, is only to put the name or sound in the place and stead of the thing having that real essence, without knowing what the real essence is ; and this is that which men do when they speak of species of things, as supposing them made by nature, and distinguished by real essences. 50. Which Supposition is qfno Use. — For let us consider, when we affirm that all gold is fixed, either it means that fixedness is a part of the definition — part of the nominal essence the word gold stands for ; and so this affirmation, all gold is fixed, contains nothing but the signification of the term gold. Or else it means, that fixedness, not being a part of the definition of the gold, is a property of that sub- stance itself: in which case it is plain that the word gold stands in the place of a substance, having the real essence of a species of things made by nature. In which way of substitution it has so confused and uncertain a signification, that, though this proposition — gold is fixed, be in that sense an affirmation of something real, yet it is a truth will always fail us in its particular application, and so is of no real use or certainty. For let it be ever so true, that all gold — i. e., all that has the real essence of gold — is fixed, what serves this for, whilst we know not in this sense what is or is not gold? For if we know not the real essence of gold, it is impossible we should know what parcel of matter has that essence, and so whether it be true gold or no. 51. Conclusion. — To conclude: what liberty Adam had at first to make any complex ideas of mixed modes, by no other patterns but his own thoughts, the same have all men ever since had. And the same necessity of conforming his ideas of substances to things without him, as to archetypes \aade by nature, that Adam was under, ii' he would not wil- 74 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IH. fully imjJose upon himself; tlie same are all men ever since under too. The same liberty also that Adam had of affixing any new name to any idea, the same has any one still ; (es- pecially the beginners of languages, if we can imagine any such;) bat only with this difference, that, in places where men in society have already established a language amongst them, the' significations of words are very warily and spar- ingly to be altered: because men being furnished already with names for their ideas, and common use having appro- priated known names to certain ideas, an affected misappli- cation of them cannot but be very ridiculous. He that hath new notions will perhaps venture sometimes on the coining of new terms to express them; but men think it a boldness, and it is uncertain whether common use will ever make them pass for current. But in communication with others, it is necessary that we conform the ideas we make the vulgar words of any language stand for to their known proper sig- nifications, (which I have explained at large already,) ov else to make known that new signification we apply them to. CHAPTER VII. OF PARTICLES. 1. Pa/rtides connect Paris or whole Sentences togetJier. — Besides words, which are names of ideas in the mind, there are a great many others that are made use of to signify the connexion that the mind gives to ideas or propositions one with another. The mind, in communicating its thoughts to others, does not only need signs of the ideas it has then before it, but others also, to show or intimate some particu- lar action of its own, at that time, relating to those ideas. This it does several ways; as is, and is not, are the general marks, of the mind, affirming or denying. But besides affir- mation or negation, without which there is in words no truth or falsehood, the mind does, in declaring its sentiments to others, connect not only the parts of propositions, but whole sentences one to another, with their several relations and dependencies, to make a coherent discourse. 2. In than consists the Art of Weil-speaking. — The words whereby it signifies what connexion it gives to the geveraJ CHAP. vn.J OP parttci.es. 76 affimaations and negations that it unites in one continued reasoning or narration, are generally called particles ; and it is in the right use of these that more particularly consist the clearness and beauty of a good style. To think well, it is not enough that a man has ideas clear and distinct in his thoughts, nor that he observes the agreement or disagree- ment of some of them ; but he must think in train, and observe the dependence of his thoughts and reasonings upon one another. And to express well such methodical and i-ational thoughts, he must have words to show what con- nexion, restriction, distinction, opposition, emphasis, &c., he gives to each respective part of his discourse. To mistake in any of these, is to puzzle instead of informing his hearer; and therefore it is that those words which are not truly by themselves the names of any ideas^ are of such constant and indispensable use in language, and do much contribute to men's well expressing themselves. 3. They show lohat Relation the Mind gives to its own Thoughts. — This part of grammar has been perhaps as much neglected as some others over-dUigently cultivated. It is easy for men to write, one after another, of cases and gen." ders, moods and tenses, gerunds and supines : in these and the like there has been great diligence used : and particles themselves, in some languages, have been, with great show of exactness, ranked into their several orders. But though prepositions and conjunctions, &c., are names well known in grammar, and the particles contained under them care- fully ranked into their distinct subdivisions; yet he who would show the right use of particles, and what significancy and force they have, must take a little more pains, enter into his own thoughts, and observe nicely the several pos- tures of his mind in discoursing. 4. Neither is it enough for the explaining of these words, to render them, as is usual in dictionaries, by words of another tongue which come nearest to their signification : for what is meant by them is commonly as hard to be understood in one as another languge. They are all marks of some action or intimation of the mind; and therefore to understand them rightly, the several views, postures, stands, turns, limitations, and exceptions, and several other thoughts of the mind, for which we have either none or very deficient names, are dili- 76 OF iii'M.VN rspKiiSTANinxw. [i;ooK in gi-ntly to bo stmlitHl, Of tlioso thow is ,■> sjit>jit vniii'ty, imu'h oxiHHHliiij; tho nuiuboi- of |«»vtiolos tluit most l;>iis;u-'>4^'s Iwvo to oxpivss tliom I'V ; !U>d tli" otoiv if is not to bo \vv'i\- ili'iwi titsvt most i>t" tlioso (i;utiolos i.ivo divo\'s mid somotiiiu^a almost opposito sijjuitioatioiis. In tlu> llol>tx>\v toujjiu' tluMV is a p.'iitii'lo oonsistins; of but ouo sii>j;'K' lottor. of w hioh tlioiv ajv ivokouisl up, !is I ivmoMibor, sowutv, I tvui suw abovo Ufty, sovonil siguitlojitiotis. ;">. I iixttunY in Utit. - l>>it is n partiolo, uouo moiv fuuilijir iu o\U' litnsj'u.'isjv : ami ho that sjiys it is a ilisoivtivo ivujuui>- tiou, aaid tliat it answoi-s to *v./ 1-atiu, or »(»ut it sihmus to mo to ii\tii\\ato sovonil ivlatious tho n>ind j^ivi^s to tho sovoiiil juxipositious ov parts o( thoiu, whioh it joins bv this n\oi\i.>- syllabK\ .Kii'st, " Init to s;iy uo tuoiv:" hoiv it intiuiatos a stop of tho miud iu tlio ooui-so it was going, bofoix' it oamo ipiito to tlto ond of it. Sivondly, " 1 s;i\v but two plants:" hoiv it> sluiws that tho mind limits tho sonso to what is oxpivssod, with a notation of (vU othor. 'Pitirdly, " Yoti ]nt\\ ; but it is not tliat (.lod would bviug yon to tho trno roliyiou," Kom'thly, " l>iit that ho would ooi\tu'm you iu vovir own." Tho lirst of tlio.so Inits intimates a supposition in tlio mind of .somothing otliorwiso tiian it should lio; tho lattor shows that tho tnind makos a diwot opposition botwoon that nud what goos bol'oro it. Fifthly, " .Ml nuimivls havo so\is(\ but a dog is ai\ animal :"" hoiv it signilios littlo n\oi\> Init that> tho lattov proposition is joined to tlu> forn\or, as I ho minor oi' a syllogis\n. ti. Tills .Uii/Irr lull /iii/it/i/ toiic/wi/ h To tlu'so, 1 doubt not, miglit bo addod a groiit many othor signilioations of this partiolo, if it woiv my bnsinoss to oxamiuo it in its full lati- tude, and eonsider it in all the plaoes it. is to be found ' which if one slunild do, I doubt whether in all those niamieca it is nuulo use of, it woidd desm-ve the title of ilisei-etive, whieh gi-animavians give to it.. Ihit I inlei\d not heiv a. full explieation of this sort of signs. 'Vhn instjuu'os 1 havo i;iven in this one may givi> oeeasion to ivlleet on their use and foreo in langu.agv, ami lead us into the eonteiujilatiou of several CHAP. Vm.] ABSTRACT AJfD CONCRETE TERMS. "" Actions of our minds in discoursing, -which it has found a way to intimate to others by these jiartioles; some whereof con- stantly, and others in certain constructions, have the sense of a whole sentence contained in them. CHAPTEE YIII. OF ABSTRACT AND CONCRETE TERMS. 1. Abstixict Terms not predicable one of another, and why. — The ordinary words of language and our common use of them, would have given us light into the nature of our ideas, if they bed been but considered with attention. The mind, as has been shown, has a power to abstract its ideas, and so they become essences, general essences, whereby the sorts of things are distinguished. Xow each abstract idea being dis- tinct, so that of any two the one can never be the other, the mind will by its intuitive knowledge perceive their difference, and therefore in propositions no two whole ideas can ever be afSrmeii one of ano^er. Tliis we see in the common use of language, which permits not any two abstract words or names of sibstract ideas to be affirmed one of another. For how near of kin soever they may seem to be, and how certain soever it is that man is an animal, or rational, or white, yet eveiy one at first hearing perceives the &lsehood of these propositions : humanity is animality, or rationality, or whiteness: and this is as evident as any of the most allowed mifri ms. All our affirmations then are only in concrete, which is the affirming, not one ab- stract idea to be another, but one abstract idea to be joined to another, which abstract ideas, in substmices, may be of any sort; in all the rest are little else but of relations; and in substances the most fi-equent ai-e of powers : v. g., " a man is wliite," signifies that the thing that has the essence of a man has also in it the essence of whiteness, which is nothing but a power to pit)duce the idea of whiteness in one whose ey^ can discover ordinary objects: or, "a man is rational," signifies that the same thing that hath the essence ol A man hath also in it the essence of rationality \ e., a power of reasoning. 78 OF HuaiAS rsDEssTASDise. [bock m. 2. Ti»j skam tn^ Difkshx ^' our Idsis. — This di5Tin;-T:ca rf name ^ji^irs tls ak;- ie difference o£ oar id^s^ : &r if we obeeiTe '"' -"• "we ^""f/'t find 'Jiit ozr snr.e i^eas late ?._ absoact as -Kti &s omc-rete iLiiza: the one "srieT^:-! is (h) q)eak rhe laagoage :_ jt *""' "•' "■■"'" '■" ^ ' a i~c=Ti:i~Te. tbs oflier an adj«4iTe; as ■a-V:e::ies5. "s-r^ite, s^et^T^ess. S"^r-et The like sis:, holds in ucn- id^ c: i^>ies and relit; ;rs: as, jnsiice, 'TisT, ejnaiirv. e^^ia^ ; oniT T*it2i liiis aizTereiic^ "Cia~ sorae o; the ct^ncrete nam^ of itLatioiis an:~irs; men ciiezy to renier a ris^rn: c^it as tj o;ir iieas of saleiaiiices, we Imtb Terr few or no abstract namss at aTl Prr tiitij-ii the sc:-i:":-is liave iitz^Tdueed sziiiiiaiitas, r ~- a'"' taj. orpoiiHas^ and. s>:'iiie other;: vet t2ie~ Lrli no rrztcrtijn widi liar isiciirte nttaber of :iai:ies o-f stitstanc-es. t^ writh tLev reTo- "irere ri-iiot:I:^s aicti^i to- attetzLtt the coinit.^ of al-strajt o:tes : and ta:se fe-s- that the sA:-:l5 for^ei aiii ptit iztt;. the EtttitLs of tLeir sftolirs coold neTer yet ret admittanfe rtt? c-ot^itnC'ii use. or o-t-taia the i::-et:se cf tabE;- at«rrohatt:-zi. Which see^is to Hie at least to isithsate the ojtJessic-a. of ali mankind, tjiat liey isTe n: iieas of the real esenees c-i sabstanees, shioe they LaTe net nat^es for sadi iieas : "s-hfcii no doubt they w;al.l hare iai had net their ocmscionsoess to thense-ves of their i^cranee of xhem kept th^n from s-a idle an attenitt. And tnerefiire th:nirh thev had fieas enoagh to ■T'~~'-' ~i~''> coli from a stone, and meisl fi\.iin wcoi; yet tney Itit timorotLsIy Tentnred on snch terms, as aorietas and saxietas. metaUietas and liznietas. or the like names, which shoTud pretend ij siiTsify the real essences of tfi:iaVpn pretaiders to a fcnowieire that thev had not whieh trst coined and then intrc-iac-ei amimalitss and hnmannas. ind the like: wiich vet w^ent Tar little farther than tnetr own sohxls. and coold ne's'er cet to» be comsit atnonrs: nndersfeanding men. Indeed, h-.noanitas was a word in fatnihar use amongst the Bcntans. bnt in a fsr different sense, and stood not for the abstract esence of anv sabstan ;-e : h nt was the altstracted name of a mode, and ita ooncrpre hnmann^ not homo. CHAF. IX.J THE IMPERFECTION OP WORD& 7S CHAPTER IX. OF THE IMPERFECTION OP WORDS. 1. Words are used for recording aud communicating ouf I'hougJUs. — From w]iat has been said in the foregoing chap- ters, it is easy to perceive what imperfection there is in lan- guage, and how the very nature of words makes it almost unavoidable for many of them to be doubtful and uncertain in their significations. To examine the perfection or imper- fection of words, it is necessary first to consider their use and end ; for as they are more or less fitted to attain that, so they are more or less perfect. We have, in the former part of this discourse often, upon occasion, mentioned a double use of words. First, One for the recording of our own thoughts. Secondly, The other for the commuaicating of our thoughts to others. 2. Any Words tmll serve for recording. — As to the first of these, for the recording our own thoughts for the help of our own memories, whereby, as it were, we talk to ourselves, any words will serve the turn. For since sounds are volun- tary and indifferent signs of any ideas, a man may use what words he pleases to signify his own ideas to hitnself : and there wiU be no imperfection in them, if he constantly use the same sign for the same idea; for then he cannot fail of having his meaning understood, wherein consists the right use and perfection of language. 3. Commnunication hy Words civil or philosophical. — Se- condly, As to communication of words, that too has a double use. I. Civil. II. Philosophical. First, By their civil use, I mean such a communication of thoughts and ideas by words, as may serve for the upholding common conversation and commerce about the ordinary affairs and conveniences of civil Ufe, in the societies of men one amongst another. Secondly, By the philosophical use of words, I mean such a use of them as may serve to convey the precise notions of things, and to express in general propositions certain and 80 OF mTMAN tWDERSTAKDIirO. [UOOK lit undoubted truths, which the mind may rest ui^on and be satisfiai with in its search after true knowledge. These two uses are very distinct : and a great deal less exactness will serve in the one than in the other, as we shall see in what follows. 4. The Imperfection of Words is the Doubtfulness of their Signification. — The chief end of language in communication being to be understood, words serve not well for that end, neither in civil nor philosophical discourse, when any word does not excite in the hearer the same idea which it stands for in the mind of the speaker. Now, since sounds have no natural connexion with our ideas, but have all their significa- tion from the arbitrary imposition of men, the doubtfulness and uncertainty of their signification, which is the imperfec- tion we here are speaking of, has its cause more in the ideas they stand for than in any incapacity there is in one sound more than in another to signify any idea : for in that regard they are all equally perfect. That then which makes doubtfulness and uncertainty in the signification of some more than other words, is the difterence of ideas they stand for. 5. CoMses of their Imperfection. — Words having naturally no signification, the idea which each stands for must be learned and retained by those who would exchange thoughts and hold intelligible discourse with others in any language. But this is the hardest to be done where, Krst, The ideas they stand for are very complex, and made up of a great number of ideas put together. Secondly, Where the ideas they stand for have no certain connexion in nature, and so no settled standard anywhere in nature existing, to rectify and adjust them by. Thirdly, When the signification of the word is referred to a standard, which standard is not easy to be known. Fourthly, Where the signification of the word and the real essence of the thing are not exactlv the same. These are difficulties that attend the signification of several words that are intelligible. Those which are not intelligible at all, such as names standing for any simple ideas which another has not organs or factdties to attain ; as the names of colours to a blind man, or sounds to a deaf man ; need not here be mentioned. IMAJf. 1X.J IMPEBFECTION OF WORDS. 81 In all these cases we shall find an imperfection in words, which I shall more at large explain, in their particular appli- cation to our several sorts of ideas : for if we examine them, we shall find that the names of mixed modes are most liable to doubtfulness and imperfection, for the two first of these reasons ; and the names of substances chiefly for the two latter. 6. The Names of mixed Modes dovhtful. First, Because the Ideas they stand for a/re so complex. — First, The names of mixed modes are many of them liable to great uncertainty and obscurity in their signification. I. Because of that great composition these complex ideas are often made up of. To make words serviceable to the end of communication it is necessary, as has been said, that they excite in the hearer exactly the same idea they stand for in the mind of the speaker. Without this, men fill one another's heads with noise and sounds, but convey not thereby their thoughts, and lay not before one another their ideas, which is the end of discourse and language. But when a word stands for a very complex idea that is compounded and decom- pounded, it is not easy for men to form and retain that idea so exactly, as to make the name in common use stand for the same precise idea, without any the least variation. Hence it comes to pass that men's names of very compound ideas, such as for the most part ai'e moral words, have seldom in two difierent men the same precise signification ; since one man's complex idea seldom agrees with another's, and often difiers from his own — from that which he had yesterday, or will have to-morrow. 7. Secondly, because they have no Stomda/rds. — Because the names of mixed modes for the most part want standards in nature whereby men may rectify and adjust their signifi- cations ; therefore they are very various and doubtful. They are assemblages of ideas put together at the pleasiu-e of the mind, pursuing its own ends of discourse, and suited to its own notions, whereby it designs not to copy anything really existing, but to denominate and rank things as they come to agree with those archetypes or forms it has made.* He that * "The words genius and taste are, like the words beauty and virtue, mere terms of general approbation, which men apply to whatever they approve, without annexing any specific ideas to them. They are, thei» VOL. IL O 82 OP HUMAJSf TJSTDEESTAJTDING. fsOOK III first brought the -word sham, or wheedle, or banter, in use, put together as he thought fit those ideas he made it stand for ; and as it is with any new names of modes that are now brought into any language, so it was with the old ones when they were first made use of. Names, therefore, that stand for collections of ideas which the mind makes at pleasure must needs be of doubtful signification, when such collections are nowhere to be found constantly united in nature, nor any patterns to be shown whereby men may adjust them. What the word murder, or sacrilege, &c., signifies can never be known from things themselves : there be many of the parts of those complex ideas which are not visible in the action itself; the intention of the mind, or the relation of holy things, which make a part of m.urder or sacrilege, have no necessary connexion with the outward and visible action of him that commits either : and the pulling the trigger of the gun with which the murder is committed, and is all the action that perhaps is visible, has no natural connexion with those other ideas that make up the complex one named murder. They have their union and combination only from the understanding, which unites them under one name : but uniting them without any rule or pattern, it cannot be but that the signification of the name that stands for such volun- tary collections should be often various in the minds of differ- snt men, who have scai-ce any standing rule to regulate them- selves and their notions by, in such arbitrary ideas. 8. Propriety not a sufficient Remedy. — It is true, common use (that is, the rule of propriety) may be supposed here to afibrd some aid, to settle the signification of language ; and it cannot be denied but that in some measure it does. Common use regulates the meaning of words pretty weU for common conversation ; but nobody having an authority to establish the precise signification of words, nor determined to what ideas any one shall annex them, common use is not sufficient fore, as often employed to signify extravagant novelty as genuine merit ; and it is only time that arrests the abuse. Purity, simplicity, grace, and elegance, are, as well as beauty, qualities that are always equally admired, because the words by which they are expressed are terms of approbation. But, nevertheless, these terms are entirely under the influence of fashion • and are applied to every novelty of style or manner, to which accident or caprice gives a momentary currency." (Payne Knight, AnalyticiJ Inq, into the Prin. of Tajte, p. 111. u. iii. § 5.)— Ed. CHAP, n.] mPEEFEcnos OF W0RB9. as to adjust them to philosophical discourses ; there being scare* any name of any very complex idea (to say nothing of others) which in common iise has not a great latitude, and which, keeping within the bounds of propriety, may not be made the sign of fer different ideas. Besides, the rule and measure oi propriety iteelf being nowhere established, it is often matter of dispute, whether this or that way of using a word be pro- priety of speech or no. From all which it is evident, that the names of such kind of very complex ideas are naturally liable to this imperfection, to be of d'^ubtful and uncertain sagnification ; and even in men that Lave a mind to under- stand one another, do not always stand for the same idea in speaker and hearer. Though the names glory and gratitude be the same in CTery man's mouth through a whole countiy, yet the complex collectiTe idea which eveiy one thinks on or intends by that name, is apparently Tery different in men osing the same language. 9. The waif of learning these Xames contrBnUes also to their D:itJ>t/idness. — ^The way also wherein the names of mixed modes are ordinarily learned, does not a little contribute to the doubtfulness of their signification. For if we will observe how children learn languages, we shall find that, to make them nnderstand what the names of simple ideas or sub- stances stand for, pe make them the signs o£ Where shall one find G 2 84 OF HXJMAS trtrDEESTANDDIG. [BOOK Itt any, eitter controversial debate, or familiar discourse, con- cerning honour, faith, grace, reKgion, church, &c., -wherein it is not easy to observe the different notions men have of them ] which is nothing but this, that they are not agreed in the signification of those words, nor have in their minds the same complex ideas which they make them stand for, and and so all the contests that follow thereupon are only about the meaning of a sound : and hence we see, that, in the inter- pretation of laws, whether divine or human, there is no end j comments beget comments, and explications make new matter for explications ; and of limiting, distinguishing, vary- ing the signification of these moral words there is no end. These ideas of men's making are, by men still having the same power, midtiplied in infinitum. Many a man who was pretty well satisfied of the meaning of a text of Scripture, or clause in the code, at first reading, has, by consulting com- mentators, quite lost the sense of it, and by these elucidations given rise or increase to his doubts, and drawn obscurity upon the place. 1 say not this that I think commentaries neediest; but to show how uncertain the names of mixed modes naturally are, even in the mouths of those who had both the intention and the faculty of speaking as clearly as language was capable to express their thoughts. 10. Hence unavoidcMe Obscwrity in ancient Authors. — What obscurity this has unavoidably brought upon the writings of men who have lived in remote ages and different countries it will be needless to take notice; since the nume- rous volimies of learned men employing their thoughts that way are proofs more than enough to show what attention, study, sagacity, and reasoning are required to find out the true meaning of ancient authors. But there being no writings we have any great concernment to be very solicitous about the meaning of, but those that contain either truths we are required to believe, or laws we are to obey, and draw inconveniences on us when we mistake or titinsgress, we may be less anxious about the sense of other authors; who, writing but their own opinions, we are under no greater necessity to know them, than they to know ours. Our good or evil depending not on their decrees, we may safely be ignorant of their notions; and therefore in the reading of them, if they do not use their CHAP. IX.] IMPERFECTION OP WORDS. 85 ■Vfoi'ds with a due clearness and perspicuity, we may lay them aside, nuJ. without any injury done them, resolve thus with ourselves, "Si uon vis intelligi, debes negligi." 11. Names of Substances of dovhtful Signification. — If the signification of the names of mixed modes be uncertain, be- cause there be no real standards existing in nature to which those ideas are referred, and by which they may be adjusted, the names of substances are of a doubtful signification for a contrary reason, viz., because the ideas they stand for are supposed conformable to the reality of things, and are re- ferred to as standards made by Natui'e. In our ideas of sub- stances we have not the liberty, as in mixed modes, to frame what combinations we think fit, to be the characteristical notes to rank and denominate things by. In these we must follow Nature, suit our complex ideas to real existences, and regulate the signification of their names by the things them- selves, if we will have our names to be signs of them, and stand for them. Here, it is true, we have patterns to follow; but patterns that will make the signification of their names very uncertain : for names must be of a very unsteady and various meaning, if the ideas they stand for be referred to standards without us, that either cannot be known at all, or can be known but imperfectly and un- certainly. 12. Names of Substances referred, 1. To real Essences that cannot be hnovm. — The names of substances have, as has been shown, a double reference in their ordinary nse. first. Sometimes they are made to stand for, and so their signification is supposed to agree to, the real constitution of things, from which all their properties flow, and in which they all centre. But this real constitution, or (as it is apt to be called) essence, being utterly unknown to us, any sound that is put to stand for it must be very uncertain in its application ; and it will be impossible to know what things are or ought to be called a horse, or antimony, when those words are put for real essences that we have no ideas of at all. And therefore in this supposition, the names of sub- stances being referred to standards that cannot be known, their significatioiis can never be adjusted and established bj iihoae standard^ i'G OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IIIl 13. Secondly, To co-existing Qualities, which are known hut imperfectly. — Secondly, The simple ideas that are found to co-exist in substances being that which their names imme- diately signify, these, as united in the several sorts of things, are the proper standards to which their names are referred, and by which their significations may be best rectified : but neither will these archetypes so well serve to this purpose as to leave these names without very various and uncertain significations; because these simple ideas that co-exist and are united in the same subject being very numerous, and having all an equal right to go into the complex specific idea which the specific name is to stand for, men, though they propose to themselves the very same subject to consider, yet frame very different ideas about it; and so the name they use for it unavoidably comes to have, in several men, very different significations. The simple qualities which make up the complex ideas being most of them powers in relation to changes which they ;ire apt to make in or receive from other bodies, are almost infinite. He that shall but observe what a, great variety of alterations any one of the baser metals is apt to receive from the diflferent application only of fire, and how much a greater number of changes any of them will receive in the hands of a chymist, by the application of other bodies, will not think it strange that I count the pro- perties of any sort of bodies not easy to be collected and completely known by the ways of inquiry which our faculties are capable of They being therefore at least so many, that no man can know the precise and definite number, they are differently discovered by different men, according to their various skill, attention, and ways of handling ; who therefore cannot choose but have different ideas of the same substance, and therefore make the signification of its common name very various and uncertain. For the complex ideas of sub- stances being made up of such simple ones as are supposed to co-exist in nature, every one has a right to put into his complex idea those qualities he has found to be united to- gether. For though in the substance of gold one satisfies himself with colour and weight, yet another thinks solubility in aq. regia as necessary to be joined with that colour in his idea of gold, as any one does its fusibility ; solubility in aq. regia being a quality as constantly joined with its colooi CHAP IX.] IMPERFECJTION OF WORDS. 87 and weight as fusibility or any other; others put into it ductility or fixedness, &c., as they have been taught by tradition or experience. Who of all these has established the right signification of the word, gold? or who shall be the judge to determine? Each has his standard in nature, which he appeals to, and with reason thinks he has the same right to put into his complex idea signified by the word gold, those cpialities, which, upon trial, he has found united; as another who has not so well examined has to leave them out; or a third, who has made other trials, has to put i^* others. For the union in nature of these qualities being the true ground of their union in one complex idea, who can say one of them has more reason to be put in or left out than another? From hence it will unavoidably follow, that the complex ideas of substances in men using the same names for them, will be very various, and so the significations of those names very uncertain. 14. Thirdly, To co-existing Qttaliiies which are known hut imperfectly. — Besides, there is scarce any particular thing existing, which, in some of its simple ideas, does not com- municate with a greater, and in others a less number of par- ticular beings : who shall determine in this case which are those that are to make up the precise collection that is to be signified by the specific name? or can with any just authority prescribe which obvious or common qualities are to be left out; or which more secret or more particular are to be put into the signification of the name of any substance? All which together seldom or never fail to produce that various and doubtful signification in the names of substances which causes such uncertainty, disputes, or mistakes, when we come to a philosophical use of them. 15. With this Imperfection — they may serve for dvil, hut Twt well for philosophical Use. — It is true, as to civil and com- mon conversation, the general names of substances, regulated in their ordinary signification by some obvious qualities, (as by {he shape and figure in things of known seminal propa- gation, and in other substances, for the most part by colour, joined with some other sensible qualities,) do well enough to design the things men would be understood to speak of: and so they usually conceive well enough the substances meauTi by the word gold or apple, to distinguish the one from the 88 OP HUMAN' UNDKRSTAlTDINa. [bOOK III. other. But in philosophical inquiries and debates, -where general truths are to be established, and consequences drawn from positions laid down, there the precise signification of the names of substances will be found not only not to be well established, but also very hard to be so. For example : he .hat shall make malleableness or a certain degret ^f fixed- ness a part of his complex idea of gold, may make propo- sitions concerning gold, and draw consequences from them that will truly and clearly follow from gold, taken in such a signification : but yet such as another man can never be forced to admit, nor be convinced of their truth, who makes not malleableness or the same degree of fixedness part of that complex idea that the name gold, in his use of it, stands for. 16. Instamce, Liquor. — This is a natural and almost un- avoidable imperfection in almost all the names of substances in all languages whatsoever, which men will easily find when, once passing from confused or loose notions, they come to more strict and close inquiries. For then they will be convinced how doubtful and obscure those words are in their signification which in ordinary use appeared very clear and determined. I was once in a meeting of very learned and ingenious physicians, where by chance there arose a question, whether any liquor passed through the filaments of the nerves. The debate having been managed a good while by variety of arguments on both sides, I (who had been used to suspect that the greatest part of disputes were more about the signification of words than a real difference in the conception of things) desired, that, before they went any further on in this dispute, they would first examine and establish amongst them, what the word liquor signified. They at first were a little surprised at the proposal, and had they been persons less ingenious, they might perhaps have taken it for a very frivolous or extravagant, one : since there was no one there that thought not himself to understand veiy perfectly what the word liquor stood for, which I think, too, none of iae most perplexed names of substances. However, they were pleased to comply with my motion; and upon examination found that the signification of that word was not 80 settled or certain as they had all imagined; but that eacii of them made it a sign of a difierent complex idea. 1!hia CHAP. IX. 1 IMPEBFECTION OF WORDS. 89 made them perceive that the main of their dispute was about the signification of that term ; and that they differed veiy little in their opinions concerning some fluid and subtle matter, passing through the conduits of the nerves; though it was not so easy to agree whether it was to be called liquor or no — a thing, which, when considered, they thought it not worth the contending about.* 17. Instance, Gold. — How much this is the case in the greatest part of disputes that men are engaged so hotly in, I shall perhaps have an occasion in another place to take notice. Let us only here consider a little more exactly the fore-mentioned instance of the word gold, and we shall see how hard it is precisely to determine its signification. I think all agree to make it stand for a body of a certain yel- low shining colour; which being the idea to which children have annexed that name, the shining yellow part of a pea- cock's tail is properly to them gold. Others finding fusi- bility joined with that yellow colour in certain parcels of matter, make of that combination a complex idea, to which they give the name gold, to denote a sort of substances; and so exclude from being gold all such yellow shining bodies as by fire will be reduced to ashes; and admit to be of that * The controversy here alluded to still remains unsettled ; the hypo- theses of physiolo^ts on the subject being in fact as numerous as ever. Blumenbach represents the present state of opinion among scientiSc men ; and from his account the reader will probably infer that the dispute is liJsely to be co- lasting with physiology itself. Speaking of the nature of the nerves, he observes : — *'Most opinions on this subject may be divided into two classes : the one regards the actions of the nervous system as consisting in an oscillatory n-otion ; the other abscribes it to the motion of a certain fluid, whose nature is a matter of dispute, by some called animal spirits, and supposed to run in vessels ; by others conceived to be a matter analogous to fire, to light, to a peculiar sether, to oxygen, to electricity, or to magnetism, &c. Although I would by no means assent to either of these opinions, I may be allowed to obeerve, that most arguments brought by one party against the hypothesis of the other, must necessarily be made in proportion to the subtlety either of the os- cillations (if any such exist) of the nerves, or to that of tLe nervous fluid. These two hypotheses may perhaps be united, by supposing a nervous fluid, thrown into oscillatory vibrations by the action of stimu- lants. The analogy between the structure of the brain and some secret- ing organs favours the belief of the existence of a nervous jiuid. But tubes and canals are evidently no more requisite for its conveyance, tlian they are requisite in bibulous paper, or any other material employnd foi aterjng." (Physiology, § 222, et seq.)— £d. 90 OF UUMAlf UNDERSTANDING [bOOK III. species, or to be comprehended under that name gold, only such substances as, having that shining yellow colour, will by fire be reduced to fusion and not to ashes. Another, by the same reason, adds the weight, which, being a quality as straightly joined with that colour as its fusibility, he thinks has the same reason to be joined in its idea, and to be sig- nified by its name ; and therefore the other made up of body, of such a colour and fusibility, to be imperfect; and so on of all the rest : wherein no one can show a reason why some of the inseparable qualities that are always united in nature should be put into the nominal essence, and others left out : or why the word gold signifying that sort of body the ring on his finger is made of, should determine that sort rather by its colour, weight, and fusibility, than by its colour, weight, and solubility in aq. regia : since the dissolving it by that liquor is as inseparable from it as the fusion by fire ; and they are both of them nothing but the relation which that substance has to two other bodies, which have a power to operate differently upon it. For by what right is it that fusibility comes to be a part of the essence signified by the word gold, and solubility but a property of it? or why is its colour part of the essence, and its maUeableness but a property? That which I mean is this, that these being all but properties, depending on its real constitution, and nothing but powers, either active or passive, in reference to other bodies, no one has authority to determine the signification of the word gold (as referred to such a body existing in nature) more to one collection of ideas to be found in that body than to another; whereby the signification of that name must unavoidably be very uncertain ; since, as has been said, several people observe several properties in the same substance, and I think I may say nobody at all. And there- fore we have but very imperfect descriptions of things, and words have very uncertain significations. 18. The Nomies of simple Ideas the least doubtful. — From what has been said, it is easy to observe what has been before remarked, viz., that the names of simple ideas are, of all others, the least liable, to mistakes, and that for these reasons : First, Because the ideas they stand for being each but one single perception are much easier got, and more clearly retained than the more complex ones, and therefor* CHAP. IX.] IMPERPECTIOU OP WORDS. 91 are not liable to the uncertaintY which usually attends those compounded ones of substances and mixed modes, in which the precise number of simple idea« that make them up are not easily agreed, and so readily kept in the mind; and Secondly, Because they are never referred to any other essence, but barely that perception they immediately signify, which reference is that which renders the signification of the names of substances naturally so perplexed, and gives occa- sion to so many disputes. Men that do not perversely use their words, or on purpose set themselves to cavU, seldom mistake in any language which they are acquainted with, the use and signification of the names of simple ideas. White and sweet, yellow and bitter, carry a very obvious meaning with them, which every one precisely comprehends, or easily perceives he is ignorant of, and seeks to be informed; but what precise collection of simple ideas modesty or frugality stand for in another's use is not so certainly known, and however we ai'e apt to think we weU enough know what is meant by gold or iron ; yet the precise complex idea others make them the signs of, is not so certain, and I believe it is very seldom that, in speaker and hearer, they stand for exactly the same collection; which must needs produce mistakes and disputes when they are made use of in discourses, wherein men have to do with universal propositions, and would settle in their miiids universal truths, and consider the consequences that follow from them. 19. Arid next to them., simple Modes. — By the same rule, the names of .simple modes are, next to those of simple ideas, least liable to doubt and uncertainty, especially those of figure and number, of which men have so clear and distinct ideas. Who ever that had a mind to understand them mis- took the ordinary meaning of seven, or a triangle? and in general the least compounded ideas in every kind have the least dubious names. ■ 20. l%e most doubtful cure the Nam£s of very compounded mixed Modes cmd, Svhstances. — Mixed modes, therefore, that are made up but of a few and obvious simple ideas, have usually names of no very uncertain signification. But the names of mixed modes, which comprehend a great number of simple ideas, are commonly of a very doubtful and undetermined meaning, as has been shown. The names of eubstances being 92 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III annexed to Ideas that are neither the real essences nor exact representations of the patterns they are referred to, are liable to yet greater imperfection and uncertainty, especially when we come to a philosophical use of them. 21. Why this Imperfection charged upon Words. — The great disorder that happens in our names of substances proceeding, for the most part, from our want of knowledge and inability to penetrate into their real constitutions, it may probably be wondered why I charge this as an imperfection rather upon our words than understandings. This exception has so much appearance of justice, that I think myself obliged to give a reason why I have followed this method. I must confess, then, that, when I first began this discourse of the understanding, and a good while after, I had not the least thought that any consideration of words was at all necessary to it ; but when, having passed over the original and composition of our ideas, I began to examine the extent and certainty of our knowledge, I found it had so near a connexion with words, that, unless their force and manner of signification were first well obsei-ved, there could be very little said clearly and pertinently concerning knowledge, which being conver- sant about truth, had constantly to do with propositions; and though it terminated in things, yet it was for the most part so much by the intervention of words, that they seemed scarce separable from our general knowledge; at least they interpose themselves so much between our understandings and the truth which it would contemplate and apprehend, that, like the medium through which visible objects pass, their obscurity and disorder do not seldom cast a mist before our eyes, and impose upon our understandings. If we con- sider, in the fallacies men put upon themselves as well as others, and the mista,kes in men's disputes and notions, how great a part is owing to words, and their uncertain and mis- taken significations, we shall have reason to think this no small obstacle in the way to knowledge; which I conclude we are the more carefully to be warned of, because it has been so far from being taken notice of as an inconvenience, that the arts of improving it have been made the business of men's study, and obtained the reputation of learning and subtilty, as we shall see in the following chapter. But I am upt to imagine, that, were the imperfections of language, as CHAP. tX.J IMPERFECTION OF WORDS. 93 the instrument of knowledge, more thoroughly weighed, a great many of the controversies that make such a noise in the world, would of themselves cease; and the way to knowledge, and perhaps peace too, lie a great deal opener thanit does. 22. This slumld teach its Moderation in imposing our own Sense of old Authors. — Sure I am that the signification ot words in all languages depending very much on the thoughts, notions, and ideas of him that uses them, must unavoidably be of great uncertainty to men of the same language and country. This is so evident in the Greek authors, that he that shall peruse their writings will find in almost every one of them a distinct language, though the same words. But when to this natural difficulty in every country there shall be added different countries and remote ages, wherein the speakers and writers had very different notions, tempers, customs, ornaments, and figures of speech, &c., every One of which influenced the signification of their words then, though to us now they are lost and unknown; it would become us to be charitable one to another in our interpretations or misunderstanding of those ancient writings; which, though of great concernment to be understood, are liable to the unavoidable difficulties of speech, which (if we except the names of simple ideas, and some very obvious things) is not capable, without a constant defining the terms, of convepng the sense and intention of the speaker, without any manner of doubt and uncertainty to the hearer. And in discourses of religion, law, and morality, as they are matters of the highest concernment, so there will be the greatest difficulty. 23. The volumes of interpreters and commentators on the Old and New Testament are but too manifest proofs of this. Though everything said in the text be infallibly true, yet the reader may be — nay, cannot choose but be very fallible in the understanding of it. Nor is it to be wondered, that the will of God, when clothed in words, should be liable to that doubt and uncertainty which unavoidably attends that sort of conveyance; when even his Son, whilst clothed in flesh, was subject to all the frailties and inconveniences of human nature, sin excepted. And we ought to magnify his goodness that he hath spread before all the world such legible characters of his works and providence, and given all man- kind so sufficient a light of reason, that they to whom thii 94 OF HUMAU' UNDERSTAlTDTlfG. [bOOK III wiitten word never came, could not (-whenever they set themselves to search) either doubt of the being of a God, or of the obedience due to him. Since, then, the precepts of natural religion are plain, and very intelligible to all man- kind, and seldom come to be controverted ; and other revealed truths which are conveyed to us by books and languages are liable to the common and natural obscurities and diffieultiea incident to words; methinks it would become us to be more carefiil and diligent in observing the former, and less magis- terial, positive, and imperious, iu imposing our own sense and interpretations of the latter. CHAPTER X. OP THE ABUSE OF WORDS. 1. Abuse of Words. — Besides the imperfection that is naturally in language, and the obscurity and confusion that is so hard to be avoided in the use of words, there are several wilful faults and neglects which men are guilty of in this way of communication, whereby they render these signs less clear and distinct in their signification than naturally they need to be. 2. First, Words without amy, or vjithout clear Ideas. — First, In this kind the first and most palpable abuse is, the using of words without clear and distinct ideas ; or, which is worse, signs without anything signified. Of these there are two sorts. 1. One may observe in all languages certain words, that, if they be examined, wUl be found in their first original and their apj;ropriated use not to stand for any clear and distinct ideas. These, for the most part, the several sects of philosophv and religion have introduced; for their authors or promoters, either affecting something singular and out of the way of common apprehensions, or to support some strange opinions, or cover some weakness of their hypothesis, seldom fail to coin new words, and such as, when they come to be examined, may justly be called insignificant terms. For having either had no determinate collection of ideas annexed to them when they were first invented ; or at least such as, if well examined will be found ruconsistent; it is no wonder, if, after inward' CHAP. X.] ABUSE OP WORDS. 93 the vulgar use cf the same party they remain empty sounds with little or no signification amongst those who think it enough to have them often in their moutbs, as the distin- guishing characters of their church or school, without much troubling their heads to examine what are the precise ideas ihey stand for. I shall not need here to heap up instances — every man's reading and conversation will suflSciently furnish him, or if he wants to be better stored, the great mint- masters of this kind of terms, I mean the schoolmen and metaphysicians (under which I think the disputing natural and moral philosophers of these latter ages may be compre- hended) have wherewithal abundantly to content him. 3. II. Others there be who extend this abuse yet further, who take so little care to lay by words, which, in their primary notation have scarce any clear and distinct ideas which they are annexed to, that by an unpardonable neg- ligence they familiarly use words which the propriety of language has aiSxed to very important ideas, without any distinct meaning at all. Wisdom, glory, grace, &c., are words frequent enough in every man's mouth; but if a great many of those who use them should be asked what they mean by them, they would be at a stand, and not know what to answer: a plain proof, that, though they have learned those sounds, and have them ready at their tongues' end, yet there are no determined ideas laid up in their minds, which are to be expressed to others by them. 4. Occasioned by learning Names before the Ideas they be- long to. — Men having been accustomed from their cradles to learn words which are easily got and retained, before they knew or had framed the complex ideas to which they were annexed, or which were to be found in the things they were thought to stand for, they usually continue to do so all their lives; and without taking the pains necessary to settle in their minds determined ideas, they use their words for such unsteady and confused notions as they have ; contenting themselves with the same words other people use : as if their very sound necessarily carried with it constantly the same meaning. This, though men make a shift with in the ordi- nary occurrences of life, where they find it necessary to be understood, and therefore they maJte signs till they are so ; yet this insignificancy in their words, when they come to 96 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III reason concerning either their tenets or interest, manifestly fills their discoui-se with abundance of empty unintelligible noise and jargon, especially in moral matters, where the words for the most part standing for arbitrary and numerous collections of ideas, not regularly and permanently united in nature, their bare sounds are often only thought on, or at least very obscure and uncertain notions annexed to them. Men take the words they find in use amongst their neigh- bours; and that they may not seem ignorant what they stand for, use them confidently, without much troubling their heads about a certain fixed meaning; whereby, besides the ease of it, they obtain this advantage, that, as in such discourses they seldom are in the right, so they are as seldom to be convinced that they are in the wrong; it being all one to go aboiit to draw those men out of their mistakes who have no settled notions, as to dispossess a vagrant of his habitation who has no settled abode. This I guess to be so, and every one may observe in himself and others whether it be so or not. 5. II. Unsteady Application of them. — Secondly, Another great abuse of words is inconstancy in the use of them. It is hard to find a discourse written on any subject, especially of controversy, wherein one shall not observe, if he read with attention, the same words (and those commonly the most material in the discourse, and upon which the argument turns) used sometimes for one collection of simple ideas, and sometimes for another; which is a perfect abuse of language : words being intended for signs of my ideas to make them known to others, not by any natural signification, but by a voluntary imposition, it is plain cheat and abuse, when I make them stand sometimes for one thing and sometimes for another; the wilful doing whereof can be imputed to nothing but great folly, or greater dishonesty. And a man in his accounts with another may, with as much fairness make the characters of numbers stand sometimes for one and sometimes for another collection of units (v. g., this character, 3, stands sometimes for three, sometimes for four, and sometimes for eight) as in his discourse or reasoning make the same words stand for difierent collections of simple ideas. If men should do so in their reckonings, I wonder who would lave to do with them? One who would speak thus in the affairs and CHAP. X.] AUUSE DP WORDS. 97 business of the world, and call 8 sometimes seven, and some- times nine, as best served his advantage, would presently have clapped upon him one of the two names men are com monly disgusted with. And yet in arguings and learned contests, the same sort of proceedings passes commonly for wit and learning; but to me it appears a greater dishonesty than the misplacing of counters in the casting up a debt; and the cheat the greater, by how much truth is of greater concernment and value than money. 6. III. Affected Obscwrity by wrong Application. — Thirdly, Another abuse of language is an affected obscurity, by either applying old words to new and unusual significations, or in- troducing new and ambiguous terms, without defining either; or else putting them so together, as may confound their ordi- nary meaning. Though the Peripatetic philosophy has been most eminent in this way, yet other sects have not been wholly clear of it. There are scarce any of them that are not cum- bered with some difficulties (such is the imperfection of human knowledge) which they have been fain to cover with obscurity of terms, and to confound the signification of words, which, like a mist before people's eyes, might hinder their weak parts from being discovered. That body and extension in common use stand for two distinct ideas, is plain to any one that will but reflect a little. For were their signification precisely the same, it would be proper, and as intelligible to say, the body of an extension, as the extension of a body; and yet there are those who find it neces.«!ary to confound their signification. To this abuse, and the mischiefs of con- founding the signification of words, logic and the liberal sciences, as they have been handled in the schools, have given reputation; and the admired art of disputing hath added much to the natural imperfection of languages, whilst it has been made use of and fitted to perplex the signification of words, more than to discover the knowledge and truth of things; and he that will look into that sort of learned writings, will find the words there much more obscure^ uncertain, and undetermined in their meaning, than they are jn ordinary conversation. 7. Logic and Dispute have rtmch contributed to this. — Tbk is unavoidably to be so, where men's parts and learning are estimated by their skill in disputing. And if reputation aui VOL. II. H 98 or HUMAN DKDEESTANDIirG. [BOOK IH. reward shall attend these conquests, which depend mostly oi the fineness and niceties of words, it is no wonder if the wit of man so employed, should perplex, involve, and subtUize the signification of sounds, so as never to want something to say in opposing or defending any question ; the victory being adjudged not to him who had truth on his side, but the last word in the dispute. 8. Calling it SuhtUty. — This, though a very useless skill, and that which I think the direct opposite to the ways of knowledge, hath yet passed hitherto under the laudable and esteemed names of subtilty and acuteness, and has had the applause of the schools, and encouragement of one part of the learned men of the world.* And no wonder, since the philoso- phers of old, (the disputing and wrangling philosophers, I mean such as Lucian wittily and with reason taxes,) and the schoolmen since, aiming at glory and esteem for their great and universal knowledge, easier a great deal to be pretended to than really acquired, found this a good expedient to cover their ignorance with a curious and inexplicable web of per- plexed words, and procure to themselves the admiration of others by unintelligible terms, the apter to produce wonder because they could not be understood ; whilst it appears in all history, that these profound doctors were no wiser nor more useful than their neighbours, and brought but small advantage to human life or the societies wherein they lived ; unless the coining of new words where they produced no new things to apply them to, or the perplexing or obscuring the signification of old ones, and so bringing all things into question and dispute, were a thing profitable to the life of man, or worthy commendation and reward. 9. This Lea/rning very little benefits Society. — For, notwith- standing these learned disputants, these all-knowing doctors, it was to the unscholastic statesman that the governments of the world owed their peace, defence, and liberties ; and from the illiterate and contemned mechanic (a name of disgrace) that they received the improvements of useful arts. Never- theless, this artificial ignorance and learned gibberish pre- vailed mightily in these last ages, by the interest and artifice of those who found no easier way to that pitch of authority * For example, in his Hermotimus, Anglez, and Sale of tie PhUos» phers.— Ed. CHAP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 99 aud dominion they have attained, than by amusing the men of business and ignorant with hard words, or employing the ingenious and idle in intricate disputes about unintelligible terms, and holding them perpetually entangled in that end- less labyrinth. Besides, there is no such way to gain ad- mittance or give defence to strange and absurd doctrines, as to guard them round about with legions of obscure, doubt- ful, and undefined words, which yet make these retreats more like the dens of robbers, or holes of foxes, than the fortresses of fair warriors, which, if it be hard to get them out of, it is not for the strength that is in them, but the briars and thorns, and the obscurity of the thickets they are beset with. For untruth being imaoceptable to the mind of man, there is no other defence left for absurdity but obscurity. 10. But destroys the Instruments of Knowledge and Com- munication. — Thus learned ignorance, and this art of keeping even inquisitive men from true knowledge hath been pro- pagated in the world, and hath much perplexed whilst it pretended to inform the understanding. For we see that other well-meaning and wise men, whose education and parts had not acquired that acuteness, could intelligibly express themselves to one another, and in its plain use make a benefit of language. But though unlearned men well enough under- stood the words white and black, (fee, and had constant notions of the ideas signified by those words, yet there were philosophers found who had learning and subtility enough to prove that snow was black; i. e., to prove that white was black. Whereby they had the advantage to destroy the instruments and means of discourse, conversation, instruction, and society, whilst with great art and subtilty they did no more but perplex and confound the signification of words, and thereby render language less useful than the real de- fects of it had made it; a gift which the illiterate had not attained to. 11. As useful as to ccmfound the Sound of the Letters. — These learned men did equally instruct men's understandings and profit their lives, as he who should alter the significa- tion of known characters, and by a subtle device of learning, far surpassing the capacity of the illiterate, dull, and vulgar; should in hia writing show that he could ptt A for B, and H 2 100 OP HUMAN UNDEESTAiroiNG, [BOOK III. D for E, &c., to the ni; small admiration and benefit of Ms reader; it being as senseless to put black, which is a ■word agreed on to stand for one sensible idea, to put it, I say for another, or the contrary idea ; i. e., to call snow black, as to put this mark A, which is a character agreed on to stand for one modification of sound made by a certain motion of the organs of speech, for B, which is agreed on to stand for another modification of sound made by another certain mode of the organs of speech. 1 2. This A rt has perplexed Religion ki>s. 103 aiNise^ iioTT fiir it may concern a crvat r.-.s.v;y otlnsr j^^.ieral terms I lea-ve to be considered. This, 1 tl-,;nk. I vuay :)t least say, that w^ siould hsw a crost msny ivwor d;-;p-,5:os in the -world if -wTorde -wnens tjik^n tor \vhat they ,-»r\ th* signs of our idesis only, ajui not K>r thine* thomst^lvos, i\ir \dien we ai^e about matter or any the like t^-rm, wo tru'y argue only aKiut the idea we express by that sound, whetlior that precise idea agree to anything really o\istin:r in n;ituiv or no. And if men wv>uld tell what ido;-,s thoy luitko tJu-ir words stand for, there could not be half that obso\iiity v>r ■wrangling in the search or support of truth that theiv is, 16. This maies Ernfrs L\<:')hj. — But whatever inconveni- ence follows from this mistake of wo^^^s, this I sua smv, that, by constant and fEui\iIiar use they ch.irm men into notions lar remote fifom the truth of thinsts. It wovild l>o a ha.nl i\ii»t tor to persuade any one that the woi-ds which his father, m" schoolmaster, the pai^son of the parish, or such a ivvcivnd doctor used, signified nothing that really existed in natvuv; which perhaps is none of the least causes that nieu aiv so hardly drawn to quit their mistakes, evcit in opinions pun\ly philosophical, and where tliey have no other iiUeivst but truth. For the words they have a long time been used to, remaining firm in their minds, it is no wonder that (he wivns^ notions annexed to them sliould not be removed. 17. V. Selting theinj'or ir!uit the;/ cannot siiiiiin/. — Fit'lhly, Another abuse of words is, the setting them in the jilace of things which they do or can by no moans signify. Wo may observe, that, in the general names of substonoos whoroof tlio nominal essences ai-e only known to ns, when wo ptit thoni into propositions, and affirm or deny anything about thoiii. we do most commonly tacitly suppose or intend thoy should stand for the real essence of a certain sort of substtuuis. For when a man says gold is malleable, he moans and w ould insinuate something more than this, that what 1 call gold is malleable, (though truly it amounts to no more,) but would have this understood, viz., that gold, i. i'., what has tho real essence of gold, is malleable; which amounts to thus much, that malleableness depends on, and is inseparable from the real essence of gold. But a man not knowing whoniu that real essence consists, the connexion in hi.s nund of nuiUe&ble- ness is not tnily wth an essence he knows not, but only 104 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. |^BOOK III. with the sound gold he puts for it. Thus, Trhen we say that "animal rationale" is, and "animal implume bipes latis un- guibus" is not a good definition of a man ; it is plain we suppose the name man in this case to stand for the real essence of a species, and would signify that a rational animal better described that real essence than a two-legged animal with broad nails, and without feathers. For else, why might not Plato as properly make the word dvBpiairog, or man, stand for his complex idea, made up of the idea of a body, distinguished from others by a certain shape and other out- ward appearances, as Aristotle make the complex idea to which he gave the name dvOpuiTroe, or man, of body and the faculty of reasoning joined together; unless the name dvOpwirog, or man, were supposed to stand for something else than what it signifies, and to be put in the place of some other thing than the idea a man professes he would express by it? 18. V. g., Putting them for tlie real Essences of Suhsta/nces. — It is true the names of substances would be much more useful, and propositions made in them much more certain, were the real essences of substances the ideas in our minds which those words signified. And it is for want of those real essences that our words convey so little knowledge or certainty in our discourses about them ; and therefore the mind, to remove that imperfection as much as it can, makes them, by a secret supposition, to stand for a thing having that real essence, as if thereby it made some nearer approaches to it. For though the word man or gold signify nothing truly but a complex idea of properties united together in one sort of substances; yet there is scarce anybody, in the use of these words, but often supposes each of those names to stand for a thing having the real essence on which these properties depend. Which is so far from diminishing the imperfection of our words, that by a plain abuse it adds to it, when we would make them stand for something, which, not being in our complex idea, the name we use can no ways be the sign of. 19. Hence we thirJc ecery Cha/nge of our Idea in Substa/ncea not to cliamge the Species. — This shows us the reason why in mixed modes any of the ideas that make the composition of the complex one, being left out or changed, it is allowed to be another thing, i. e., to be of another ppecies, it is plain in CHAP. X.J ABUSE OF WOHUS. 105 chance-medley, manslaughter, murder, parricide, ifcc. Tho reason whereof is, because the complex idea signified by that name is the real as well as nominal essence ; and there is no secret reference of that name to any other essence but that. But in substances, it is not so; for though in that called gold, one puts into his complex idea what another leaves out, and vice versa ; yet men do not usually think that therefore the species is changed; because they secretly in their minds refer that name, and suppose it annexed to a real immutable essence of a thing existing, on which those properties depend. He that adds to his complex idea of gold that of fixedness and solubility in aq. regia, which he put not in it before, is not thought to have changed the species, but only to have a more perfect idea, by adding another simple idea, which is always in fact joined with those other, of which his former complex idea consisted. But this reference of the name to a thing whereof we had not the idea is so far from helping at all, that it only serves the more to involve us in difiiculties; for by this tacit reference to the real essence of that species of bodies, the word gold (which, by standing for a more or less perfect collection of simple ideas, serves to design that sort of body well enough in civil discourse) comes to have no signification at all, being put for somewhat whereof we have no idea at all, and so can signify nothing at all, when the body itself is away. For however it may be thought all one, yet, if well considered, it will be found a quite dif- ferent thing to argue about gold in name, and about a parcel in the body itself, v. g., a piece of leaf-gold laid before us, though in discourse we are fain to substitute the name for the thing. 5iO. The Caiise of the Abuse, a Supposition of Natwria worM/ng always regularly. — That which I think very much disjjoses men to substitute their names for the real essences of species, is the supposition before mentioned, that nature works regularly in the production of things, and sets the boundaries to each of those species, by giving exactly the game real internal constitution to each individual which wo rank under one general name. Whereas any one who ob- serves their difierent qualities can hardly doubt, that many of the individuals called by the same name are, in theil internal constitution, as different one from another as several 106 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDINQ. [BOOK III of those whicli are ranked under different specific names. This supposition, however, that the same precise and internal constitution goes always with the same specific name, makes men forward to take those names for the representatives of those real essences, though indeed they signify nothing but the complex ideas they have in their minds when they use them. So that, if I may so say, signifying one thing, and being supposed for, or put in the place of another, they cannot but, in such a kind of use, cause a great deal of un- certainty in men's discourses; especially in those who have thoroughly imbibed the doctrine of substantial forms, whereby they firmly imagine the several species of things to be determined and distinguished. 21. This Abuse contains two false Suppositions. — But how- ever preposterous and absurd it be to make our names stand for ideas we have not, or (which is all one) essences that we know not, it being in effect to make our words the signs of nothing; yet it is evident to any one who ever so little re- flects on the use men make of their words, that there is nothing more familiar. When a man asks whether this or that thing he sees, let it be a drill, or a monstrous foetus, be a man or no ; it is evident the question is not whether that particular thing agree to his complex idea expressed by the name man ; but whether it has in it the real essence of a species of things which he supposes his name man to stand for. In which way of using the names of substances, there are these false suppositions contained : — First, that there are certain precise essences according to which nature makes all particular things, and by which they are distinguished into species. That everything has a real constitution, whei-eby it is what it is, and on which its sen- sible qualities depend, is past doubt ; but I think it has been proved that this makes not the distinction of .=peoies as we rank them, nor the boundaries of their names. Secondly, this tacitly also insinuates, as if we had ideas 'of these proposed e*ences. For to what purpose else is it to inquire whether this or that thing have the real essence of the species man, if we did not suppose that there were such a specific essence known? which yet is utterly false; and there- fore, such application of names as would make them stand for ideas which we have not, must needs cause great disorder CHAP. X. ■ ABUSE OF WOitDS. 107 in discourses and reasonings about t.liem, and be a great inconvenience in our communication by words. 22. VI. A supposition that Words hmie a certain and en- dent Signification, — SixtUy, there remains yet another, more general, though perhaps less observed abuse of words; and that is, that men having by a long and familiar use annexed to them certain idtas, they are apt to imagine so near and necessary a connexion between the names and the significa- tion they use them in, that they forwardly suppose one canuot but understand what their meaning is ; and therefore one ought to acquiesce in the words delivered, as if it were past doubt that, in the use of those common received sounds, the speaker and hearer had necessarily the same precise ideas. Whence presumiug, that when they have in discourse used amy term, they have thereby, as it were, set before others the very thing they talked of; and so likewise taking the words of others, as naturally standing for just what they them- selves have been accustomed to apply them to, they never trouble themselves to explain their own, or understand clearly others' meaning. From whence commonly proceed noise and wrangling, without improvement or ini'ormation ; whilst men take words to be the constant regular marks of agreed notions, which in truth are no more but the voluntary and unsteady signs of their own ideas. And yet men think it strange, if in discourse or (where it is often absolutely necessary) in dispute, one sometimes asks the meaning of their terms ; though the arguings one may every day observe in conversation make it evident that there are few names of complex ideas which any two men use for the same just precise collection. It is hard to name a word which will not be a clear instance of this. Life is a term, none more familiar; any one almost would take it for an affront to be asked what he meant by it. And yet if it comes in question, whether a plant that lies ready formed in the seed have Ufe; whether the embryo in an egg before incubation, or a man in a swoon without sense or motion, be alive or no; it is easy to perceive that a clear, distinct, settled idea does not always accompany the use of so known a word as that of life is. Some gross and confused conceptions men indeed ordi- narily have, to which they apply the common words of their language; and such a loose use of their words serves them veil enough in their ordinary discourses or affairs. But 108 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. ''bOOK HI, this is not sufficient for philosophical inquiries; knowledge and reasoning require precise determinate ideas. And though men will not be so importunately dull, as not to understand what others say without demanding an exphca/- tion of their terms, nor so troublesomely critical as to correct others in the use of the words they receive from them ; yet, whore truth and knowledge are concerned in the case, I know not what fault it can be to desire the explication of words whose sense seems dubious; or why a man should be ashamed to own his ignorance in what sense another man uses his words, since he has no other way of certainly know- ing it but by being informed. This abuse of taking words upon trust has nowhere spread so far, nor with so ill effects, as amongst men of letters. The multiplication and obstinacy of disputes which have so laid waste the intellectual world, is owing to nothing more than to this ill use of words. For though it be generally believed that there is great diversity of opinions in the volumes and variety of controversies the world is distracted with, yet the most I can find that the contending learned men of different parties do, in their arguings one with another, is, that they speak different Ian guages. For I am apt to imagine that when any of them, quitting terms, think upon things, and know what they think, they think all the same, though perhaps what they would have be different. 23. The. Ends of Language: First, To convey our Ideas. — To conclude this consideration of the imperfection and abuse of language; the ends of language in our discourse with others being chiefly these three : first, to make known one man's thoughts or ideas to another ; secondly, to do it with as much ease and quickness as possible; and, thirdly, thereby to convey the knowledge of things : languao'e is either abused or deficient, when it fails of any of these three. First, Words fail in the first of these ends, and lav not open one man's ideas to another's view : 1. When men have names in their mouths without any determinate ideas in their minds, whereof they are the signs ; or, 2. When they apply the common received names of any language to ideas, to which the common use of that language does not apply them ; or, 3. When they apply them very unsteadily, making them stand, now for one, and by and by for another idea. CttiP. X.] ABUSE OF WORDS. 109| 24. Secondly, To do it with Quickness. — Secondly, Men fail of conveying their thoughts with all the quickness and ease that may be, when they have complex ideas without having any distinct names for them. This is sometimes the fault of the language itself, which has not in it a sound yet applied to such a signification ; and sometimes the fault of the man, who has not yet learned the name for that idea he would show another. 25. Thirdly, Tfoerewith to convey the Knowledge of Things. — Thirdly, There is no knowledge of things conveyed by men's words, when their ideas agree not to the reality of things. Though it be a defect that has its original in our ideas, which are not so conformable to the nature of things as attention, study, and application might make them, yet it fails not to extend itself to our words too, when we use them as signs of real beings, which yet never had any reality or existence. 26. How Men's Words fail in aU these. — Fii-st, He that hath words of any language, without distinct ideas in hia mind to which he applies them, does so far as he uses them in discourse, only make a noise without any sense or significa- tion ; and how learned soever he may seem by the use of hard words or learned terms, is not much more advanced thereby in knowledge, than he would be in learning, who had nothing in his study but the bare titles of books, without possessing the contents of them. For all such words, how- ever put into discourse, according to the right construction of grammatical rules, or the harmony of well-turned periods, do yet amount to nothing but bare sounds, and nothing else. 27. Secondly, He that has complex ideas, without par- ticular names for them, would be in no better case than a bookseller who had in his warehouse volumes that lay there unbound, and without titles, which he could therefore make known to others only by showing the loose sheets, and com- municate them only by tale. This man is hindered in his discourse for want of words to communicate his complex ideas, which he is therefore forced to make known by an enumeration of the simple ones that compose them ; and so is fain often to use twenty words to express what another man signifies in one. 110 OP HtrSLUS rifDEKSTAMDINO. |^BOOK III. 28. Thirdly, He that puts not constantly the same sign for the same idea, but uses the same words sometimes in one and Bometimes in another signification, ought to pass in the schools and conversation for as fair a man, as he does in the market and exchange, who sells several things under the same name. 29. Fourthly, He that applies the words of any language to ideas different from those to which the common use of that country applies them, however his own understanding may be filled with truth and light, will not by such words be able to convey much of it to others, without defining his terms. For however the sounds are such as are familiarly known, and easily enter the ears of those who are accustomed to them ; yet standing for other ideas than those they usually are annexed to, and are wont to excite in the mind of the hearers, they cannot make known the thoughts of him who thus uses them. 30. Fifthly, He that imagined to himself substances such as never have been, and fiUed his head with ideas which have not any correspondence with the real nature of things, to which yet he gives settled and defined names, may fill his discourse, and perhaps another man's head, with the fantas- tical imaginations of his own brain, but will be very far from advancing thereby one jot in real and true knowledge. 31. He that hath names without ideas, wants meaning in his words, and speaks only empty sounds. He that hath complex ideas without names for them, wants liberty and dispatch in his expressions, and is necessitated to use peri- phrases. He that uses his words loosely and unsteadily will either be not minded or not understood. He that applies his names to ideas different from their common use, wants pro- piiety in his language, and speaks gitberish. And he that hath the ideas of substances disagreeing with the real exist- ence of things, so far wants the materials of true knowledge in his understanding, and hath instead thereof chimeras. 32. How in Substa/nces. — In our notions concerning sub^ stances, we are liable to all the former inconveniences ; v. g., he that uses the word tarantula, without having any ima- gination or idea of what it stands for, pronounces a good word j but so long means nothing at all by it. 2. He that in a new-discovered country shall see several sorts of animala CHAP. X.] ABUSE OP WORDS. Ill and vegetables iinknown to him before, miy have as true ideas of them, as of a horse or a stag ; but can speak of them only by a description, till he shall either take the names the natives call them by, or give them names himself. 3. He that nses the word body sometimes for pure extension, and sometimes for extension and solidity together, will talk very fallaciously. 4. He that gives the name horse to that idea which common usage calls mule, talks improperly, and will not be understood. 5. He that thinks the name centaur stands for some real being, imposes on himself, and mistakes words for things. 33. How in Modes and Hdations. — In modes and rela- tions generally, we are liable only to the four first of these inconveniences; viz. 1. T may have in my memory the names of modes, as gratitude oi charity, and yet not have any pre- cise ideas annexed in my thoughts to those names. 2. I may have ideas, and not know the names that belong to them ; V. g., I may have the idea of a man's drinking till his colour and humour be altered, till his tongue trips, and his eyes look red, and his feet fail him ; and yet not know that it is to be called drunkenness. 3. I may have the ideas of virtues or vices, and names also, but apply them amiss ; v. g., when I apply the name frugality to that idea which others call and signify by this sound, covetousness. 4. I may use any of those names with inconstancy. 5. But, in modes and rela- tions, I cannot have ideas disagreeing to the existence of things ; for modes being complex ideas, made by the mind at pleasure, and relation being but by way of considering or comparing two things together, and so also an idea of my own making, these ideas can scarce be found to disagree with anything existing, since they are not in the mind as the copies of things regularly made by nature, nor as properties inseparably flowing from the internal constitution or essence of any substance ; but as it were patterns lodged in my memory, with names annexed to them, to denominate actions and relations by, as they come to exist. But the mistake is commonly in my giving a wrong name to my conceptions ; and so using words in a different sense from other people ; I am not understood, but am thought to have wrong ideas of them, when I give wrong names to them. Only if I put in my ideas of mixed modes or relations any inconsistent ideas 112 07 HUMAN UNDEESTASDINO. fuOOK HL together, 1 fill my Lead also with chimeras ; since such ideas, if well examined, cannot so much as exist in the mind, much less any real being ever be denominated from them. 34. VII. Figurative Speech also amd Abuse of Lo/nguage. — ■ Since wit and fancy find easier entertainment in the world than dry truth and real knowledge, figurative speeches and al- lusion in language will hardly be admitted as an imperfection or abuse of it. I confess in discourses where we seek rather pleasure and delight than information and improvement, such ornaments as are borrowed from them can scarce pass for faults. But yet if we would speak of things as they are, we must allow that all the art of rhetoric, besides order and clearness, all the artificial and figurative application of words eloquence hath invented, are for nothing else but to insinuate wrong ideas, move the passions, and thereby mislead the judgment, and so indeed are perfect cheats ; and therefore, however laudable or allowable oratory may render them in harangues and popular addresses, they are certainly, in all discourses that pretend to inform or instruct, whoUy to be avoided ; and where truth and knowledge are concerned, cannot but be thought a great fault, either of the language or person that makes use of them. What and how various they are, will be superfluous here to take notice : the books of rhetoric which abound in the world, will instruct those who want to be informed ; only I cannot but observe how little the preservation and improvement of truth and know- ledge is the care and concern of mankind ; since the arts of fallacy are endowed and preferred. It is evident how much men love to deceive and be deceived, since rhetoric, that powerful instrument of error and deceit, has its established professors, is publicly taught, and has always been had in great reputation : and I doubt not but it will be thought great boldness, if not brutality in me, to have said thus much against it. Eloquence, like the fair sex, has too prevailing beauties in it to sufier itself ever to be spoken against ; and it is in vain to find fault with those arts of deceiving, wherein men find pleasure to be deceived,* * The notions whioli Locke here puts forward on the subject of rhe- toric, and an ornate and figurative style, are as inconsistent with his own practice as they are with true philosophy. He himself constantly, both throughout this and eveiy other of his works, makes use of a profusion CHAP. XI. I REMUDIKS OF THE ABUSE OF WOKDS. 113 CHAPTER XI. or THE REMEEiES OF THE FOREGOING IMPERFECTIONS AND ABUSEa. 1. They are worth seeking. — The natural and improved imptrfections of languages we have seen above at large ; and of tropes and figures ; nor, as will be evident to the reader, is his mean- ing thereby at all darkened, but placed in a broader, clearer, and more perfect light. It is, in fact, nearly impossible to convey truth from one mind to another without the abundant employment of metaphors ; and the art of rhetoric, though it may sometimes be used to adorn and recom- mend falsehood, is no more to be rejected by truth on that account, than dress is to be laid aside by modest women because it also worn by cour- tezans. Plato, as is well known, has put forward on this subject crotchets similar to Locke's ; and it is not at aU improbable that the English philosopher may have been seduced into this diatribe against rhetoric by the eloquent and rhetorical master of the academy, who attempted to storm the citadel of eloquence with instruments supplied out of its own armoury. But if authority might be allowed any weight in this matter, I would venture to oppose to that of Plato and Locke, the deliberate conviction of Peter Melancthou, who, besides studying profoundly foi his own use the art of rhetoric, composed for the service of others, a brief but admirable introduction to the larger works of Aristotle, Quin- tillian, and Cicero ; and in the Epistola Nunoupatoria, addressed to the brothers Eeifenstein, says : *'Quanquam autem ipsa prsecepta I'hetorices levia et perquam puenlia videntur, tamen hoc sibi persuadeant ado- lescentes, et ad judicandum, et ad maximas caussas explicandas prorsus ea necessaria esse. Quare etiam adhortandi simt ne his nostris libellis immorentur : sad cognitis his elementis, Ciceronem et Quintilianum legat nee degustent obiter, sed diu multumque legant auctores illos, nou solum ad eloquentiam, sed etiam ad sapientiam profuturos, et disoant ex eis eloquentiam metiri magnitudine sua. Videmus enim vulgo quosdam sciolos esse, qui somniat se in arce eloquentiae sedere, postquam didice* runt epistoiimn scribere octo aut decem versuum, in quo duo aut tria insint hemistrlchia aut proverbia, quasi emblemata. Hsec opinio juveni- bus eximenda est, et ostendendum quibus in rebus eloquentia dominetur quod videlicet necessaria sit ad maximas ac difficillimas caussas omnes, in hac tota civili consuetudine vitae explicandas, ad retinendas religiones, ad Interpretandas ac defendendas leges, ad exercenda judicia, et consilium dandum reipublioae in maximis periculis diligenter et hoc monendi sunt studiosi, rem unam esse omnium humanorum operum longe difficUlima, bene dicere. Etenim qui magnitudinem eloquentije et rei difficultatem considerabit intelliget expetenti banc laudem, acerrimum studium omnium maximarum artium adhibendum esse, et statuet ad magnarum et diffi- cilium causarum tractationem in Ecclesia, et in Kepublica, non tantum hos rhetoricos libeUos, sed perfeotam dootrinam et magnam facultatem, iongam exercitationem domesticam, et acerrimum judicium afferendum esse." (Edit. Antw3rpi33, 1573.) An example of Locke's own practice occurs in § 5 of the next chapter, where he speaks of "language being the great candidt whereby men convey their discoveries," etc. VOIi. II. I 114 OF HUMAN UXDEESTAXDraa. [bOOK HI, speecli being the great bond that holds society together, and the comnioii conduit whereby the improvements of know- ledge are conveyed from one man and one generation to another, it would weU desei-se our most serious thoughts to consider vhat remedies oi-e to be found for the incon- veniences above mentioned. '2. Are not easy. — I am not so vain as to think that any one can pretend to attempt the perfect reforming the lan- guages of the world, no, not so much as of his own covmtry, without rendering himself ridiculous. To require tliat men should use their words constantly in the same sense, and for none but determined and uniform ideas, would be to think that all men should have the same notions, and should talk of nothing but what they have clear and distinct ideas of, which is not to be expected by any one who hath not vanity enough to imagine he can pre%'ail with men to be very knowing or very silent. And he must be very little skilled in the world, who thinks that a voluble tongue shall accom- pany only a good tmderstanding ; or that men's talking much or little should hold proportion only to their knowledge, 3. Silt yet maessary to Philosophy. — But though the market and exchange must be left to their own ways of talking, and gossipings not be robbed of their ancient privilege ; though the schools and men of argument would perhaps take it amiss to have anything offered to abate the length or lessen the mmiber of their disputes ; yet methinks those who pre- tend seriously to search after or maintain truth, should think themselves obliged to study how they might deliver them- selves without obscurity, doubtfulness, or equivocation, to which men's words are naturally liable, if care be not taken. 1. Misuse of Words the great Cause of Errors. — For he that shall well consider the errors and obscurity, the mistakes and confusion, that are spread in the world by an ill use of words, will find some reason to doubt whether language, as it has been employed, has contributed more to the improve- ment or hindrance of knowledge among-st mankind. How many are there, that, when they would tlunk on things, fix their thoughts only on words, especially when they would appl)' their minds to moral matters: and who tlien can wonder if the result of such contemplations and reasonings, about liuie more than sounds, whilst the ideas they "nnex C3HAP. XI. 1 llEMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OP WORDS. lit' to them are very confused and very unsteady, or perhaps none at all; who can wonder, I say, that such thoughts and reasonings end in nothing but obscurity and mistake, with- out any clear judgment or knowledge? 5. Obstinacy. — This inconvenience in an ill use of words men suffer in their own private meditations ; but much more manifest are the disorders which follow from it in conversa- tion, discourse, and arguings with others. For language being the great conduit whereby men convey their disco- veries, reasonings, and knowledge, from one to another; he that makes an ill use of it, though he does not corrupt the fountains of knowledge, which are in things themselves ; yet he does as much as in him lies, break or stop the pipes whereby it is distributed to the public use and advantage of mankind. He that uses words without any clear and steady meaning, what does he but lead himself and others into errors? And he that designedly does it, ought to be looked on as an enemy to truth and knowledge. And yet who can wonder that all the sciences and parts of knowledge have been so overcharged with obscure and equivocal terms, and insignificant and doubtful expressions, capable to make the most attentive or quick-sighted very little or not at all the more knowing or orthodox? since subtilty, in those who make profession to teach or defend truth, hath passed so much for a virtue; a virtue, indeed, which, consisting for the most part in nothing but the fallacious and illusory use of obscxire or deceitful terms, is only fit to make men more conceited in their ignorance and more obstinate in their errors. 6. And Wrangling. — Let us look into the books of con- troversy of any kind, there we shall see that the effect of obscure, unsteady, or equivocal terms, is nothing but noise and wrangling about sounds, without convincing or bettering a man's understanding. For if the idea be not agreed on betwixt the speaker and hearer, for which thf words stand, the argument is not about things, but names. As often as such a word, whose signification is not ascertained betwixt them, comes in use, their understandings have no othei object wherein they agree, but barely the sound; the things that they think on at that time, as expressed by that word being quite different, 116 OP HUMAN UUDERSTANDINQ. FbOOK III. ft. 7. Instcmce, Bat cmd Bird. — ^Whether a bat be a bird or no, is not a question; whether a bat be another thing than indeed it is, or have other qualities than indeed it has, for that would be extremely absurd to doubt of: but the question is, 1. Either between those that acknowledged themselves to have but imperfect ideas of one or both of this sort of things, for which these names are supposed to stand ; and then it is a real inquiry concerning the name of a bird or a bat, to make their yet imperfect ideas of it more complete, by examining whether all the simple ideas to which, combined together, they both give the name bird, be ail to be found in a bat : but this is a question only of inquirers (not disputers) who neither affirm nor deny, but examine. Or, 2. It is a question between disputants, whereof the one affirms and the other denies that a bat is a bird ; and then the question is barely about the signification of one or both these words; in that they not having both the same com- plex ideas to which they give these two names, one holds and the other denies, that these two names may be affirmed one of another. "Were they agreed in the signification of these two names, it were impossible they should dispute about them ; for they would presently and clearly see (were that adjusted between them) whether all the simple ideas of the more general name bird were found in the complex idea of a bat or no; and so there could be no doubt whether a bat were a bird or no. And here I desire it may be con- sidered, and carefully examined, whether the greatest part of the disputes in the world are not merely verbal, and about the signification of words; and whether, if the terms they are made in were defined, and reduced in their signi- fication (as they must be where they signify anything) to determined collections of the simple ideas they do or should stand for, those disputes would not end of themselves, and immediately vanish. I leave it, then, to be considered what the learning of disputation is, and how well they are em- ployed for the advantage of themselves or others, whose business is only the vain ostentation of sounds ; i. e., those who spend their lives in disputes and controversies. When I shall see any of those combatants strip all his terms of ambiguity and obscurity, (which every one may do in the words he uses himself,) I shall think him a champion for CH.IP. Xt,] KEMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OF WOKDS. 117 knowledge, truth, and peace, and not the slave of vain- glory, ambition, or a party. 8. To remedy the defects of speech before mentioned to some degree, and to prevent the inconveniences that follow from them, I imagine the observation of these following rules may be of use, till somebody better able shall judge it worth his while to think more maturely on this matter, and oblige the world with his thoughts on it. First, Remedy; to use no Word without an Idea. — First, man shall take care to use no word without a signification, ao name without an idea for which he makes it stand. This rule will not seem altogether needless to any one who shall take the pains to recollect how often he has met with such words as instinct, sympathy, and antipathy, &c., in the dis- course of others, so made use of, as he might easily conclude that those that used them had no ideas in their minds to which they applied them, but spoke them only as sounds, which usually served instead of reasons on the like occasions. Not but that these words and the Kke have very proper significations in which they may be used; but there being no natural connexion between any words and any ideas, these and any other may be learned by rote, and pronounced or writ by men who have no ideas in their minds to which they have annexed them, and for which they make them Stand ; which is necessary they should, if men would speak intelligibly even to themselves alone. 9. Secondly, To have distinct Ideas anneooed to them in Modes. — Secondly, It is not enough a man uses his words as signs of some ideas: those he annexes them to, if they be simple, must be clear and distinct; if complex, must be determinate, i e., the precise collection of simple ideas settled in the mind, with that sound annexed to it, as the sign of that precise determined collection, and no other. This is very necessary in names of modes, and especially moral words; which, having no settled objects in nature, from whence their ideas are taken, as from their original, are apt to be very confused. Justice is a word in every man's mouth, but most commonly with a very undeter- mined, loose signification; which wUl always be so, unless a man has in his mind a distinct comprehension of the component parts that complex idea conaate of: and if it lis OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III, be deoompoimded, must be able to resolve it still on, tiU lie at last comes to the simple ideas that make it up : and unless this be done, a man makes an ill use of the word, let it be justice, for example, or any other. I do not say, a man need stand to recollect and make this analysis at large every time the "word justice comes in his way; but this at least is necessary, that he have so examined the signification of that name, and settled the idea of all its parts in his mind, that he can do it when he pleases. If any one who makes his complex idea of justice to be such a treatment of the person or goods of another as is according to law, hath not a clear and distinct idea what law is, which makes a part of his complex idea of justice, it is plain his idea of justice itself will be confused and imperfect. This exactness will, perhaps, be judged very troublesome, and therefore most men will think they may be excused from settling the complex ideas of mixed modes so precisely in their minds. But yet I must say, till this be done, it must not be won- dered that they have a great deal of obscurity and confusion in their own minds, and a great deal of wrangling in their discourse with others. 10. Aiid distinct and conformahle in Substances. — In the names of substances, for a right use of them, somethiag more is required than barely determined ideas. In these the names must also be conformable to things as they exist ■ but of this I shall have occasion to speak more at large by and by. This exactness is absolutely necessary in inquiries after philosophical knowledge, and in controversies about truth. And though it would be well, too, if it extended itself to common conversation and the ordinary afiairs of life; yet I think that is scarce to be expected. Vuloar notions suit vulgar discourses ; and both, though confused enough, yet serve pretty well the market and the wake. Merchants and lovers, cooks and tailors, have words where- withal to dispatch their ordinary afiairs; and so I think might philosophers and disputants too, if they had a mind to understand, and to be clearly understood. 11. Thirdly, Propriety. — Thirdly, It is not enough that men have ideas, determined ideas, for which they make these signs stand; but they must also take ca,re to apply their words as near as may be to such ideas as common use CUAP. XI.] EEMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OV WORDS. 119 has aanexed them to. For words, especially of languages already framed, being no man's private possession, but the common measure of comm.eroe and communication, it is not for any one at pleasure to change the stamp they are current in, nor alter the ideas they are affixed to; or at least, when there is a necessity to do so, he is bound to give notice of it. Men's intentions in speaking are, or at least should be, to be understood; -which cannot be without frequent explanations, demands, and other the like incommodious interruptions, where men do not follow common use. Propriety of speech is that which gives our thoughts entrance into other men's minds with the greatest ease and advantage; and therefore deserves some part of our care and study, especially in the names of moral words. The proper signification and use of terms is best to be learned from those who in their writings and discourses appear to have had the clearest notions, and applied to them their terms with the exactest choice and fitness. This way of using a man's words, according to the propriety of the language, though it have not always the good fortune to be understood; yet most commonly leaves the blame of it on him who is so unskilful in the language he speaks, as not to understand it when made use of as it ought to be. 12. Fourthly, To make hnovm their Meaning. — Fourthly, But, because common use has not so visibly annexed any signification to words, as to make men know always cer- tainly what they precisely stand for; and because men in the improvement of their knowledge, come to have ideas different from the vulgar and ordinary received ones, for which they must either make new words, (which men seldom venture to do, for fear of being thought guilty of aifectatiou or novelty,) or else must use old ones in a new signification : therefore after the observation of the foregoing rules, it is sometimes necessary, for the ascertaining the signification of words, to declare their meaning; where either common use has left it uncertain and loose, (as it has in most names of very complex ideas,) or where the term, being very material in the discourse, and that upon which it chiefly turns, is liable to any doubtfulness or mistake. 13, And that three Ways. — As the ideas men's words stand for are of different sorts, so the way of making known the 120 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK III. ideas they stand for, -wlieii there is occasion, is also different. For though defining be thought the proper way to make known the proper signification of words, yet there are some words that will not be defined, as there are others whose precise meaning cannot be made known but by definition; and perhaps a third, which partake somewhat of both the other, as we shall see in the names of simple ideas, modes, and substances. 14. I. In simple Ideas, hy synonymovs Terms, or shcrwi/ag. — First, when a man makes use of the name of any simple idea which he perceives is not understood, or is in danger to be mistaken, he is obliged by the laws of ingenuity and the end of speech to declare his meaning, and make known what idea he makes it stand for. This, as has been shown, cannot be done by definition; and therefore, when a synonymous word fails to do it, there is but one of these ways left: First, sometimes the naming the subject wherein that simple idea is to be found, will make its name to be understood by those who are acquainted with that subject, and know it by that name. So to make a countryman understand what "feuillemorte" colour signifies, it may suffice to tell him it is the colour of withered leaves falling in autumn. Secondly, but the only sure way of making known the signification of the name of any simple idea, is by presenting to his senses that subject which may produce it in his mind, and make him actually have the idea that word stands for. 1 5. II. In mixed Modes, by Definition. — Secondly, Mixed modes, especially those belonging to morality, being most of them such combinations of ideas as the mind puts together of its own choice, and whereof there are not always standing patterns to be found existing, the signification of their names ( annot be made known as those of simple ideas by any show- ing ; but, in recompense thereof, may be perfectly and exactly defined. For they being combinations of several ideas that the mind of man has arbitrarily put together, without reference to any archetypes, men may, if they please, exactly know the ideas that go to each composition, and so both use these words in a certain and undoubted significar tion, and perfectly declare, when there is occasion, what they stand for. This, if well considered, would lay great blame on those who make not their discourses about moral things CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABOSE OF WORDS. 121 very clear and distinct. For since, the precise signification of the names of mixed modes, or, which is all one, the real essence of each species is to be known, they being not of nature's, but man's making, it is a great negligence and per- verseness to discourse of moral things with uncertainty and obscurity; which is more pardonable in treating of natural substances, where doubtful terms are hardly to be avoided, for a quite contrary reason, as we shall see by and by. 16. Morality capable of DemonsPraiion. — Upon this ground it is that I am bold to think that morality is capable of demonstration, as well as mathematics; since the precise real essence of the things moral words stand for may be perfectly known, and so the congruity and incongruity of the things themselves be certainly discovered, in which consists perfect knowledge. Nor let any one object, that the names of sub- stances are often to be made use of in morality aa well as those of modes, from which will arise obscurity. For as to substances, when concerned in moral discourses, their divers natures are not so much inquired into as supposed; V. g., when we say that man is subject to law, we mean nothing by man but a corporeal rational creature : what the real essence or other qualities of that creature are in this case is no way considered. And, therefore, whether a child or changeling be a man in a physical sense, may amongst the naturalists be as disputable as it will, it concerns not at all the moral man, as 1 may call him, which is this immovable, unchangeable idea, a corpoi-eal rational being. For were there a monkey or any other creature to be found that has the use of reason to such a degree, as to be able to under- stand general signs, and to deduce consequences about general ideas, he would no doubt be subject to law, and in that sense be a man, how much soever he differed in shape from others of that name. The names of substances, if they be used in them as they should, can no more disturb moral than they do mathematical discourses; where, if the mathematician speaks of a cube or globe of gold, or of any other body, ho has his clear, settled idea, which varies not, though it may by mistake be applied to a particular body to which it belongs not. 17. I)e%iitions cam make moral Discourses cl^air. — This I have here mentioned, by the by, to show of what cousequenco 122 OF HUMAN irNBEBSTAirollfG. [bOOK lit it is for men, in their names of mixed modes, and consequently in all their moral discourses, to define their words when there is occasion ; since thereby moral knowledge may be brought to so great clearness and certainty. And it must be great want of ingenuousness (to say no worse of it) to refuse to do it; since a definition is the only way whereby the precise meaning of moral words can be known; and yet a way whereby their meaning may be known certainly, and without leaving any room for any contest about it. And therefore the negligence or perverseness of mankind cannot be excused, if their discourses in morality be not much more clear than those in natural philosophy; since they are about ideas in the mind, which are none of them false or disproportionate, tliey having no external beings for the archetypes which they are referred to and must correspond with. It is far easier for men to frame in their minds an idea which shall be the standard to which they will give the name justice, with which pattern so made, all actions that agree shaU. pass under that denomination, than, having seen Aristides, to frame an idea that shall in all things be exactly like him; who is as he is, let men make what idea they please of him. For the one, they need but know the combination of ideas that are put together in theii- own minds; for the other, they must inquire into the whole nature, and abstruse hidden con- stitution, and various qualities of a thing existing without them. 18. And is tlie only Way. — Another reason that makes the defining of mixed modes so necessary, especially of moral words, is what I mentioned a little before, viz., that it is the only way whereby the signification of the most of them can be known with certainty. For the ideas they stand for being for the most part such whose component parts nowhere exist together, but scattered and mingled with others, it is the mind alone that collects them, and gives them the union of one idea; and it is only by words enumerating the several simple ideas which the mind has united, that we can make known to others what their names stand for; the assistance of tlie senses in this case not helping us by the proposal of sensible objects, to show the ideas which our names of this kind stand for, as it does often in the names of sensible simple ideas, and also to some degree in those of substajices. CHAP. XI.] REMEDIBS OP THE ABUSE OF WOUDS. 123 19. III. In SubstoMces, by showing and defining. — Tliirdly, for the explaining the signification of the names of substances, as they stand for the ideas we have of their distinct species, both the forementioned waj's, viz., of showing and defining, are requisite in many cases to be made use of For there being ordinarily in each sort some leading qualities, to which we suppose the other ideas which make up our complex idea of that species annexed, we forwardly give the specific name to that thing wherein that characteristical mark is found, which we take to be the most distinguishing idea of that species These leading or characteristical (as I may call them) ideas in the sorts of animals and vegetables are (as has been before remarked, ch. vi. § 29, and oh. ix. § 1-5) mostly figure; and in inanimate bodies, colour; and in some, both together. Now, 20. Ideas of ilie leading Qualities of Substances are best got by shotoing. — These leading sensible qualities are those which mate the chief ingi-edients of our specific ideas, and con- sequently the most observable and invariable part in the definitions of our specific names, as attributed to sorts of substances coming under our knowledge. For though the sound man, in its own nature, be as apt to signify a complex idea made up of animality and rationality, united in the same subject, as to signify any other combination; yet used as a mark to stand for a sort of creatures we count of our own kind, perhaps, the outward shape is as necessary to be taken into our complex idea, signified by the word man, as any other we find in it : and therefore, why Plato's " animal implume bipes latis unguibus" should not be a good defini- tion of the name man, standing for that sort of creatures, will not be easy to show; for it is the shape, as the leading quality, that seems more to determine that species, than a faculty of reasoning, which appears not at first, and iu some never. And if this be not allowed to be so, I do not know how they can be excused from murder who kill monstrous births, (as we call them,) because of an unordinary shape, without knowing whether they have a rational soul or no; which can be no more discerned in a well-formed than ill- shaped infant, as soon as bom. And who is it has informed us that a rational soul can inhabit no tenement, unless it has just such a scrt of fronlaspiece; or can join itself to, 124 OP HUMaN UNDEKSTA2JDIN0. [boOK III. and inform no sort of body but one that is just of such au outward stniccure? 21. Now xnese leading qualities are best made known by showing, ana can hardly be made known otherwise. Foi the shape of a horse or cassowary will be but rudely and imperfectly imprinted on the mind by words ; the sight of the animals doth it a thousand times better: and the idea of the particular colour of gold is not to be got by any descrip- tion of it, but only by the frequent exercise of the eyes about it, as is evident in those who are used to this metal, who will frequently distinguish true from counterfeit, pure from adulterate, by the sight; where others (who have as good eyes, but yet by use have not got the precise nice idea of that peculiar yellow) shall not perceive any difference. The like may be said of those other simple ideas, peculiar in their .kind to any substance; for which precise ideas there are no peculiar names. The particular ringing sound there is in gold, distinct from the sound of other bodies, has no par- ticular name annexed to it, no more than the particular yel- low that belongs to that metal. 22. The Ideas of their Powers best known hy Definition, — But because many of the simple ideas that make up our specific ideas of substances are powers which lie not obvious to our senses in the things as they ordinarily appear; there- fore, in the signification of our names of substances, some part of the signification wiD. be better made known by enu- merating those simple ideas, than by showing the substance itself. For he that to the yellow shining colour of gold, got by sight, shall, from my enumerating them, have the ideas of great ductility, fusibility, fixedness, and solubility, in aq. regia, will have a perfecter idea of gold than he can have by seeing a piece of gold, and thereby imprinting in his mind only its obvious qualities. But if the formal con- stitution of this shining, heavy, ductile thing, (from whence all these its properties fiow,) lay open to our senses, as the formal constitution or essence of a triangle does, the signifi- cation of the word gold might as easily be ascertained as that of triangle. 23. A Befleetion on the Knowledge of Spirits. — Hence wa may take notice how much the foundation of all our know- ledge of corporeal things lies in our senses. For how spirits, CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OF THE ABUSE OP WORDS. 125 separate from bodies, (whose knowledge and ideas of these things are certainly much more perfect than ours,) know them, we have no notion, no idea at all. The whole extent of our knowledge or imagination reaches not beyond our own ideas limited to our ways of perception. Though yet it be not to be doubted that spirits of a higher rank than those immersed in flesh may have as clear ideas of the radical constitution of substances as we have of a triangle, and so perceive how all their properties and operations flow from thence, but the manner how they come by that knowledge exceeds our conceptions. 24. IV. Ideas also of Suhstomces must he confonnahle to Things. — Fourthly, But though definitions will serve to ex- plaiu the names of substances as they stand for our ideas, yet they leave them not without great imperfection as they stand for things. For our names of substances being not put barely for our ideas, but being made use of ultimately to represent things, and so are put in their place, their signification must agree with the truth of things as well as with men's ideas. And therefore, in substances, we are not always to rest in the ordinary complex idea commonly received as the signifi- cation of that word, but must go a little farther, and inquire into the nature and properties of the things themselves, and thereby perfect, as much as we can, our ideas of their distinct species; or else learn them fi'om such as are used to that sort of things, and are experienced in them. For since it is intended their names should stand for such collections of simple ideas as do really exist in things themselves, as well as for the complex idea in other men's minds, which in their ordinary acceptation they stand for, therefore, to define their names right, natural history is to be inquired into, and their properties are, with care and examination, to be found out For it is not enough, for the avoiding inconveniencies in discourse and argiiings about natural bodies and substantial things, to have learned, from the propriety of the language, the common, but confused, or very imperfect idea to which each word is applied, and to keep them to that idea in our use of them; but we must, by acquainting om^elves with the history of that sort of things, rectify and settle our com- Dlex idea belonging to each specific name; and in discom-se tknth others, (if we find them mistake us,) we ought to tell what the complex idea is that we make such a name stand 126 OF HTJlIAIf UNBERSTAITDIKa, [bOOK lU. for. This is the more necessary to be done by all those who search after knowledge and philosophical verity, in that (diildren, being taught words, whilst they have but imperfect notions of things, apply them at random and without much thinking, and seldom frame determined ideas to be signified by them. Which custom (it being easy, and serving weU enough for the ordinary afiairs of life and conversation) they are apt to continue when they are men; and so begin at the wrong end, learning words first and perfectly, but make the notions to which they apply those words afterwards very overtly. By this means it comes to pass, that, men speaking the language of their country, i. e., according to grammar rules of that language, do yet speak very improperly of things themselves; and, by their arguing one with another, make but small progress in the discoveries of nseftd truths and the knowledge of things, as they are to be found in themselves, and not in onr imaginations ; and it matters not much for the improvement of our knowledge how they are called. 25. Xot easy to be Tnade so. — It were therefore to be wished that men versed in physical inquiries, and acquainted with the several sorts of natural bodies, would set down those simple ideas wherein they observe the individuals of each sort constantly to agree This would remedy a great deal of that confusion which comes from several persons applying the same name to a collection of a smaller or greater number of sensible qualities, proportionably as they have been more or less acquainted with, or accurate in examining the qualities of any sort of things which come under one denomination. But a dictionary of this sort, con- taining, as it were, a natural history, requires too many hands as well as too much time, cost, pains, and sagacity ever to be hoped for; and tiU that be done, we must content our- selves with such definitions of the names of substances as explain the sense men use them in. And it would be well, where there is occasion, if they would afford us so much. This yet is not usually done ; but men talk to one another, and dispute iu words whose meaning is not agreed between them, out of a mistake that the significations of commou words are certainly established, and the precise ideas they stand for perfectly known; and that it is a shame to b« ignorant of them. Both which suppositions are false: no names of complex ideas having so settled determined signi- CHAP. XI.] REMEDIES OP THE ABU3E OF WORDS. 127 fications, that they are constantly used for ine same precise ideas'. Nor is it a shame for a man not to havb a certain knowledge of anything, but by the necessary ways of attain- ing it; and so it is no discredit not to know what precise idea any sound stands for in another man's mind, without he declare it to me by some other way than barely using that sound; there being no other way, without such a de- claration, certainly to know it. Indeed the necessity of com- munication by language brings men to an agreement in the signification of common words, within some tolerable latitude, that may serve for ordinary conversation : and so a man cannot be supposed wholly ignorant of the ideas which are annexed to words by common use, in a language familiar to him. But common use being but a very uncertain rule, which re- duces itself at last to the ideas of pai'ticular men, proves often but a very variable standard. But though such a dic- tionary as I have above mentioned will require too much time, cost, and pains to be hoped for in this age ; yet methinks it is not unreasonable to propose, that words standing for things which are known and distinguished by their outward shapes should be expressed by little draughts and prints made of them. A vocabulary made after this fashion would perhaps with more ease and in less time teach the true signification of many terms, especially in languages of re- mote countries or ages, and settle truer ideas in men's minds of several things whereof we read the names in ancient authors, than all the large and laborious comments of learned critics. Naturalists, that treat of plants and animals, have found the benefit of this way : and he that has had occasion to consiilt them will have reason to confess that he has a clearer idea of apium or ibex, from a little print of that herb or beast, than he could have from a long definition of the names of either of them. And so no doubt he would have of strigil and sistrum, if, instead of currycomb and cymbal, (which are the English names dictionaries render them by,) he could see stamped in the margin small pictures of these instruments, as they were in use amongst the ancients. " Toga, tunica, pallium," are words easily translated by gown, coat, and cloak; but we have thereby no more true ideas of the fashion of those habits amongst the Romans, than we have of the faces of the tailors who made them. Such things as these, which 128 or HUMAN UNDEESTAIIDING. [bOOK III. the eye distinguishes by their shapes, would be best let into the mind by draughts made of them, and more determine the signification of such words than any other words set for them, or made use of to define them. But this is only by the by.* 26. V. By Gonetancy in their Signification. — Fifthly, If men will not be at the pains to declare the meaning of their words, and definitions of their terms are not to be had, yet this is the least that can be expected, that, in all discouraes wherein one man pretends to instruct or conTince another, he should use the same word constantly in the same sense : if this were done, (which nobody can refuse without great disingenuity,) many of the boots extant might be spared ; many of the controversies in dispute would be at an end ; several of those great volumes, swollen with ambiguous words, now used in one sense, and by and by in another, would shrink into a very narrow compass ; and many of the philosophers' (to mention no other) as well as poets' works, might be contained in a nutshell. 27. When the Vernation is to he explodned. — But after all, the provision of words is so scanty in respect to that in- finite variety of thoughts, that men, wanting terms to suit their precise notions, will, notwithstanding their utmost caution, be forced often to use the same word in somewhat different senses. And though in the continuation of a disr course, or the pursuit of an argument, there can be hardly room to digress into a particular definition as often as a man varies the signification of any term ; yet the import of the discourse will, for the most pait, if there be no designed fallacy, sufficiently lead candid and intelligent readers into the true meaning of it : but where there is not sufficient to guide the reader, there it concerns the writer to explain his meaning, and show in what sense he there uses that term. * These suggestions of Locke have since been acted on in our encyclo- poedias and dictionaries of natural science ; in which the representation by engraving of objects spoken of in the text assists the descriptions in conveying clear ideas to the mind. The word strigU usually signifies an instrument used in the baths of the ancients for scraping off perepiration and dust from the skin. It was shaped like the crooked knife with which shoemakers hollow out the wood of ladies' high-heeled shoes. The sistrum had no resemblance to a pair of cymbals, but was in shape something like the jews' harp, with two or three cross-bars. The reftdei will find an exact engraved representation of it in Mantfiwioon and sereral other antiquarians. — £d. CHAP. I.] KNOWLEDGE. 129 BOOK IT. CHAPTER I. OF KNOWIiEDGE IN GENERAL. 1. Owr Knowledge conversani about our Ideas. — Since tlie mind, in all its thoughts and reasonings, hath no other im- mediate object but its own ideas, which it alone does or can contemplate, it is evident that our knowledge is only conver- sant about them. 2. Knowledge is the Perception of tlie Agreement or Disa- greement of two Ideas. — Knowledge, then, seems to me to be nothing but the perception of the connexion and agreement, or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas. In this alone it consists. "Where this perception is, there is know- ledge ; and where it is not, there, though we may fancy, guess, or believe, yet we always come short of knowledge. For when we know that white is not black, what do we else but perceive that these two ideas do not agree ? When we possess ourselves with the utmost security of the demonstra- tion, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, what do we more but perceive, that equality to two right ones does necessarily agree to, and is inseparable from the three angles of a triangle ? * 3 This Agreement fov/rfold. — But to understand a little more distinctly wherein this agreement or disagreement con- sists, I think we may reduce it all to these four sorts : I. Identity, or diversity. II. Relation. III. Co-existence, or necessary connexion. IV. Real existence. 4. Fi/rst, Of Identity, or Diversity. — First, As to the first sort of agreement or disagreement, viz., identity or diversity. It is the first act of the mind, when it has any sentiments or ideas at all, to perceive its ideas ; and so far as it perceives them, to know each what it is, and thereby also to perceive • See Appendix, No. VIIX >t end of voL si. VOL. n. K 130 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING [BOOK IV. their difference, aud that one is not another. This is a? absohitely necessary, that, without it, there could be no knowledge, no reasoning, no imagination, no distinct thoughts at all. By this the mind clearly and infallibly perceives each idea to agree with itself, and to be what it is ; and all dis- tinct ideas to disagree, i. e., the one not to be the other : and this it does without pains, labour, or deduction ; but at first view, by its natural power of perception and distinction. And though men of art have reduced this into those general rules, " what is, is," and " it is impossible for the same thing to be and not to be," for ready application in all cases, wherein there may be occasion to reflect on it : yet it is cer- tain, that the first exercise of this faculty is about particular ideas. A man infallibly knows, as soon as ever he has them in his mind, that the ideas he calls white and round are the very ideas they are, and that they are not other ideas which he calls red or square. Nor can any maxim or proposition in the world make him know it clearer or surer than he did before, and without any such general rule. This then, is the first agreement or disagreement which the mind perceives in its ideas, which it always perceives at first sight : and if there ever happen any doubt about it, it will always be found to be about the names, and not the ideas themselves, whose identity and diversity will always be perceived as soon and clearly as the ideas themselves are ; nor can it possibly be otherwise. 5. Secondly, Hdalive.. — Secondly, the next sort of agree- ment or disagreement the mind perceives in any of its ideas may, I think, be called relative, and is nothing but the per- ception of the relation between any two ideas, of what kind soever, whether substances, modes, or any other. For, since all distinct idea-s must eternally be known not to be the same, and so be universally and constantly denied one of another, there could be no room for any positive knowledge at all, if we could not perceive any relation between our ideas, and find out the agreement or disagreement they have one with another, in several ways the mind takes of comparing them. 6. Thirdly, Of Co-existence. — Thirdly, The third sort of agreement or disagreement to be found in our ideas, which the perception of the mind is employed about, is co-existence or noi>-co-exiatence in tlie same subject ; and this belongs CMAf. l| knowledge. 131 liarticularly to substances. Thus, when we proiumnce con ceming gold, that it is fixed, our knowledge of this truth amounts to no more but this, that fixedness, or a power to remain in the fire unconsumed, is an idea that always accom- panies and is joined with that particular sort of yellowness, weight, fusibility, malleableness, and solubility in aq. regia, which make our complex idea, signified by the word gold. 7. Fourthly. Of real Existence. — Fourthly, The fourth ami last sort is that of actual and real existence agreeing to any idea. "Within these four sorts of agreement or disagreement is, I suppose, contained aU the knowledge we have, or aie capable of : for all the inquiries we can make concerning any of our ideas, all that we know or can affirm concerning any ol them is, that it is, or is not, the same with some ctjher ; that it does or does not always co-exist with some other idea in the same subject ; that it has this or that relation with some other idea ; or that it has a real existence without the mind. Thus, blue is not yellow, is of identity : two triangles upon equal bases between two parellels are equal, is of relation : iron is susceptible of magnetical impressions, is of co-exist- ence : God is, is of real existence. Though identity and co- existence are truly nothing but relations, yet they are such peculiar ways of agreement or disagreement of our ideas, that they deserve well to be considered as distinct heads, and not under relation in general ; since they are so difierent grounds of affirmation and negation, as will easily appear to any one, who will but reflect on what is said in several places of this> essay. I should not proceed to examine the several degrees of our knowledge, but that it is necessary first to consider the different acceptations of the word, knowledge. 8. KTWwledge actual or habitual. — There are several ways wherein the mind is possessed of truth, each of which is called knowledge. I. There is actual knowledge, which is the present view the mind has of the agreement or disagreement of any of its ideas, or of the relation they have one to another. II. A man is said to know any proposition, which, having been once laid before his thoughts, he evidently perceived the agi-eement or disagreement of the ideas whereof it con- sists ; and so lodged it in his memory, that, whenever that proposition comes *gain to be reflected on, he, without doubt s 2 132 OF HUMAN UNDKRSTANDIXG. [bOOK IV or hesitation, embraces the right side, assents to, and is cer- tain of the truth of it. This, I think, one may call habitual knowledge : and thus a man may be said to know all those truths which are lodged in his memory, by a foregoing clear and full perception, whereof the mind is assured past doubt as often as it has occasion to reflect on them : for our finite understandings being able to think clearly and distinctly but on one thing at once, if men had no knowledge of any more than what they actually thought on, they would all be very ignorant ; and he that knew most, would know but one truth — that being all he was able to think on at one time. 9. Habitual Knowledge, twrfold. — Of habitual knowledge there are, also, vulgarly speaking, two degrees : First, The one is of such truths laid up in the memory as, whenever they occur to the mind, it actually perceives the relation is between those ideas.- And this is in all those truths whereof we have an intuitive knowledge ; where the ideas themselves, by an immediate view, discover their agree- ment or disagreement one with another. Secondly, the other is of such truths whereof the mind having been convinced, it retains the memory of the convic- tion, without the proofs. Thus, a man that remembers cer- tainly that he once perceived the demonstration, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, is certain that he knows it, because he cannot doubt the truth of it. In his adherence to a truth where the demonstration by which it was at first known, is forgot, though a man may be thought rather to belieVe his memory than really to know ; and this waytof entertaining a truth seemed formerly to me like something between opinion and knowledge; a sort of assurance which exceeds bare belief — ^for that relies on the testimony of another : yet upon a due examination I find it comes not short of perfect certainty, and is in effect true knowledge. That which is apt to mislead our first thoughts into a mistake in this matter, is, that the agi'eement or dis^ agreement of the ideas in this case is not perceived, as it Wius at first, by an actual view of all the intermediate ideas whereby the agreement or disagreement of those in the pro- position was at first perceived; but by other intermediate ideas, that show the agreement or disagreement of the ideas lontained in the proposition whose certainty we remembef. CHAP. I.] KNOWLEDGE. 133 For example : in t nis proposition, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, one who has seen and clearly perceived the demonstration of this truth knows it to be true, when that demonstration is gone out of his mind ; so that at present it is not actually in view, and possibly cannot be recollected: but he knows it in a diflferent way from what he did before. The agreement of the two ideas joined in that proposition is perceived, but it is by the inter- vention of other ideas than those which at first produced that perception. He remembers, i. e , he knows (for remembrance is but the reviving of some past knowledge) that he was once certain of the truth of this proposition, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones. The im- mutability of the same relations between the same immu- table things is now the idea that shows him, that, if the three angles of a triangle were once equal to two riglit ones, they wUl always be equal to two right ones. And hence he comes to be certain, that what was once true in the case, is always true; what ideas once agreed will always agree; and consequently what he once knew to be true, he will always know to be true, as long as he can remember that he once knew it. Upon this ground it is, that particular demon- strations in mathematics afford general knowledge. If then the perception that the same ideas will eternally have the same habitudes and relations, be not a sufficient ground of knowledge, there could be no knowledge of general proposi- tions in mathematics; for no mathematical demonstration would be any other than particular; and when a man had demonstrated any proposition concerning one triangle or circle, his knowledge would not reach beyond that particular diagram. If he would extend it further, he must renew his demonstration in another instance, before he could know it to be true in another like triangle, and so on: by which means one could never come to the knowledge of any general propositions. Nobody, I think, can deny, that Mr. Newton certainly knows any proposition that he now at any time reads in his book to be true; though he has not in actual view that admirable chain of intermediate ideas whereby ho at first discovered it to be true. Such a memory as that, able to retain such a train of particulars, may be well thought beyond the reach of human faculties j when the 134 OF Bxnaas undebstabding. [book iv. very discovery, perception, and laying together that wonder- ful connexion of ideas, "s found to surpass most readers' com- prehension. But yet it is evident the author himself knows the proposition to be true, remembering he once saw the connexion of those ideas, as certainly as he knows such a man wounded another, remembering that he saw him run him through. But because the memory is not always so clear as actual perception, and does in all men moi-e or less decay in length of time, this amongst other differences is one, which shows that demonstrative knowledge is much more imperfect than intuitive, as we shall see in the following chapter. CHAPTER II. OF THE DEGREES OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. i. Intuitive. — All our knowledge consisting, as I have said, in the view the mind has of its own ideas, which is the utmost light and greatest certainty we, with our faculties, and in our way of knowledge, are capable of ; it may not be amiss to consider a little the degrees of its evidence. The different clearness of our knowledge seems to me to lie in the different way,- of perception the mind has of the agree- ment or disagreement of any of its ideas. Por if we wiU reflect on our own ways of thinking, we shall find, that sometimes the mind perceives the agreement or disagreement )-t)f two ideas immediately by themselves, without the inter- vention of any other,: and this' I think we may call intuitive knowledge. For in this the mind is at no pains of proving or examining," but perceives the truth as the eye doth light, only by being directed towards it. Thus the mind p«->roeives that white is not black, that a circle is not a trianglo, that three are more than two, and equal to one and two. Such kinds of truths the mind perceives at the first sight of the ideas together, by barfe ^ntuition, without the intervention of piny other idea; and this kind of knowledge is the clearest and^ most certain that human frailty is capable of. This part of knowledge is irresistible, and, like bright^ sunshine, >Torces itself immediately to'te' perceived, as soon as ever the -^ mind turns its view that way, and leaves no room for hesita- CHAP. IT.] DEGKJ2ES OF KNOWLEDGE. 135 tion, doubt, or examination, but the mind is presently filled with the clear light of it. It is on this intuition that de-i jiends all the certainty and ev iden ce of all our knowledge] which certainty every one finds to be so great, that he cannot imagine, and therefore not require a greater; for a man cannot conceive himself capable of a greater certainty than to know that any idea in his mind is such as he per- ceives it to be; and that two idea« wherein he perceives a difference, are difierent and not precisely the same.^ He that demands a greater certainty than this, demands he knows not what, and shows only that he has a mind to be a sceptic, without being able to be so. Certainty depends so wholly on this intuition, that, in the next degree of knowledge which I call demonstrative, this intuition is necessary in all the connexions of the intermediate ideas, without which we cannot attain knowledge and certainty. 2. Demonstrative — The nex± degree of knowledge is, where tte mind perceives the agreement or disagreement of any ideas, but not immediately. Though wherever the mindl perceives the agreement or disagreement of any of its ideas, there be certain knowledge; yet it does not always happen, that the mind sees that agreement or disagreement which there is between them, even where it is discoverable : and in that case remains in ignorance, and at most gets no further than a probable conjecture. The I'eason why the mind cannot always perceive presently the agreement or disagree- ment of two ideas, is, because those ideas, concerning whose agreement or disagreement the inquiry is made, cannot by the mind be so put together as to show it. In this case, then, when the mind cannot so bring its ideas together as by their immediate comparison, and as it were juxta-position or application one to another, to perceive their agreement or disagreement, it is fain, by the intervention of other ideas (one or more, as it happens) to discover the agreement or disagreement which it searches; and this is that which we call reasoning. Thus the mind being willing to know the agree- ment or disagreement in bigness between the thi'ee angles of a triangle and two right ones, cannot by an immediate view and comparing them do it: because the three angles of a triangle cannot be brought at ones and be compared with uay one or two angles; and so of this the mind has no im- I3o :f stxav c3a>€a:5ri}SB3«i. ■ook rr two rtjit (Hi^ ecias "O' i::^;~ liiHr a^'^^ilrrr t.; r=r: ngi' I sfr^r iro j1:-=- ?ir -.^T-re— t-t of anT- i:w© o^os. are eiDed Fr oii : sz:i where '^e i^e^r:^r^t i^^ dasa^reaaoK is hv t"--^ — ^v-^ -" -.--V -i.^-i jl^srlj reri-ei-r^i, ii s ; leaur as in int^Td^e as las petcHtxe tit izr'e^ii^r-t cr iis^cr'c^eciHLT «if li-e ideas it conadexa, ye* :* i? - ;t ■='~n;:zT jiiins aai s~e:ii::i: there miefe be moee than one Tri_si^-T ~eT t.; jini ri. A s::eiij applicac:;- i:Li t:-::^?^^! aie TiKriLirf i - - 'li^ iisor-r— : iii therf r:_-s3 be a -rc^^r'si-ja by- srers and ie.-ree; r.er;rv the raini ean in "lis ^^J" arri— r at oataintv'. ?-i:i :- me lo rer- oaJTe the agrjenen" ;r >v^~- ~^'''-~. 't- hetreesLtwo iie^s '""i ~ need rrr-rs 3^i 7i^ ■:i~e o^ res^:- to sio's- ri. -3. 3;'; '.cii(S«Mrf c"-S--!S.;V.;j J\ jSI — Ar-:th^r ■ir5e-rr--eie be- !>,— _a-* in TJie lattei- sll dmbt be rtn:Tei wji-ec by the iz:Tt^r^j:i— -_ ■:f i^ intexmediate iiruis. m-e igrer~e:7 ;r .li&i^rr'et— e-.": is pareiat^d: y-t rTs";s? tlr ir~:~scri:;:- ti=rr wae a »;-'-^t. vhidi in in^Ti^i-e k^.^lei^e cannot haj^jmi t«> the zsiii that lii its ic^l— :: -er-r^jTi:- >f: -■> a ie^T'r* eapalile of iLsine- ii^^. no mote -"-.lir i- tan "-* a d-:s.i-- -o the eye ^xinrlrr b^we. 'ffberr kosoar. i: wfeA a Maa ^:li Ar-eiztc?- n.'ifih tr=L -. "-—"< -Tt^ Ae c-sK —-sins of i^r"-"-r h. ssid t-n.- 1^.1^:1 j; ^>j tJ-i.-5i.: .■ ij i;c? r!:ict ;-eiS3 ":_- :i.~ 5=i€_ i^i =.«l kset i-rc: rv li.^ CHAP. IL] UEQEifiES OF KNOWLEDGE. 137 (that can distinctly see white and black) whether this ink and this paper be all of a colour. If there be sight in the eyes, it will, at first glimpse, without hesitation, perceive the words printed on this paper different from the coloiir of the paper : and so if the mind have the faculty of distinct perceptions it will perceive the agreement or disagreement of those ideas that produce intuitive knowledge. If the eyes have lost the faculty of seeing, or the mind of per- ceiving, we in vain inquire after the quickness of sight in one, or clearness of perception in the other. 6. Not so clear. — It is true, the perception produced by demonstration is also very clear; yet it is often with a great abatement of that evident lustre and full assurance that always accompany that which I call intuitive; like a face reflected by several mirrors one to another, where, as long as it retains the similitude and agreement with the object, it produces a knowledge; but it is still in every successive reflection with a lessening of that perfect clearness and dis- tinctness which is in the first, tiU at last, after many removes, it has a great mixture of dimness, and is not at first sight so knowable, especially to weak eyes. Thus it is with know- ledge made out by a long train of proof I 7. £!ach Step ijvust have intuitive Evidence. — Now, in every step reason makes in demonstrative knowledge, there is an intuitive knowledge of that agreement or disagreement it seeks with the next intermediate idea, which it uses as a proof : for if it were not so, that yet would need a proof; since without the perception of such agreement or disagree- ment there is no knowledge produced. If it be perceived by itself, it is intuitive knowledge : if it cannot be perceived by itself, there is need of some intervening idea, as a com- mon measiire, to show their agreement or disagreement. By which it is plain, that every step in reasoning that pro- duces knowledge, has intuitive certainty; which when the njind perceives, there is no more required, but to remember it to make the agreement or disagreement of the ideas con- cerning which we inquire visible and certain. So that to make anything a demonstration, it is necessary to perceive the immediate agreement of the intervening ideas, whereby the agreement or disagreement of the two ideas under ex- amrinaticn (whereof the one is always the first, and the other l38 OF HUMAN CNDEKSTAiroiNO. |_BOOK TV. the last in the accovmt) is found. This intuitive perception of the agx-eement or disagreement of the intermediate ideas, in each step and progression of the demonstration, must also be carried exactly in the mind, and a man must be sure that no part is left out : which, becau.se in long deductions, and the use of many proofs, the memory does not always so readily and exactly retain; therefore it comes to pass, that this is more imperfect than intuitive knowledge, and men embrace often falsehood for demonstrations. 8. Hence tlie Mistake, " ex prcecognitis, et prceconcessis."-^ The necessity of this intuitive knowledge in each step of scientifioal or demonstrative reiisoning gave occasion, I ima- gine, to that mistaken axiom, th;it all reasoning was " ex prjecognitis et prseooacessis;" which, how far it is mistaken I shall have occasion to show more at large when I come to consider propositions, and particularly those propositions which are called maxims; and to show that it is by a mis- take that they are supposed to be the foundations of all our knowledge and reasonings. 9. Demonstration not limited to Quantity. — It has been generally taken for granted, that mathematics alone are capa- ble of demonstrative certainty : but to have such an agree- ment or disagreement as may intuitively be perceived, being, as I imagine, not the privilege of the ideas of number, ex- tension, and figure alone, it may possibly be the want of due method and application in ns, and not of sufficient evi- dence in things, that demonstration has been thought to have so little to do in other parts of knowledge, and been scarce so much as aimed at by any but mathematicians. For whatever ideas we have wherein the mind can perceive the immediate agreement or disagreement that is between them, there the mind is capable of intuitive knowledge; and where it can perceive the agreement or disagreement of any two ideas, by an intuitive perception of the agreement or disagreement they have with any intermediate ideas, there the mind is capable of demonstration ; which is not limited to ideas of extension, figure, number, and their modes. 10. Why it has been so thoicght. — The reason why it haa been generally sought for, and supposed to be only in those, r imagine has been not only the general usefulness of those sciences; but because in comparing their equality or excess, CHAP. II.J DEGREES OP KNOVO^DGE. 139 the modes of numbers have eveiy the least difference very cjear and perceivable; and though in extension every the least excess is not so perceptible, yet the mind has found out ways to examine and discover demonstratively the just equality of two angles, or extensions, or figures : and both these, i e., numbers and figures, can be set down by visible and lasting marks, wherein the ideas under consideration are perfectly determined ; which for the most part they are not, where they are marked only by names and words. 1 1. But in other simple ideas whose modes and difierencea are made and counted by degrees, and not quantity, we have not so nice and accurate a distinction of their difierenoes as to perceive and find ways to measure their just equality, or the least differences. For those other simple ideas being appearances of sensations produced in us by the size, figure, number, and motion of minute corpuscles singly insensible ; their different degrees also depend upon the variation of some or of all those causes: which, since it cannot be ob- served by us in particles of matter, whereof each is too subtile -to be perceived, it is impossible for us to have any exact measures of the different degrees of these simple ideas. For supposing the sensation or idea we name whiteness be produced in us by a certain number of globules, which, having a verticity about their own centres, strike upon the retina of the eye with a certain degree of rotation, as well as progressive swiftness; it will hence easily follow, that the more the superficial pai"ts of any body are so ordered as to reflect the greater niimber of globules of light, and to give them the proper rotatioii, which is fit to produce this sensation of white in us, the more white wUl that body ap- pear, that from an equal space sends to the retina the greater number of such corpuscles, with that peculiar sort of motion. I do not say that the nature of light consists in very small round globules, nor of whiteness in such a texture of parts as gives a certain rotation to these globules when it reflects them; for I am not now treating physically of light or colours. But this I think I may say, that I cannot (and I would be glad any one would make intelligible that he did) conceive how bodies without us can any ways affect our senses, but by the immediate contact of the sensible ■jodies themselves, as in tasting and feeling, or the impuls* 14:0 OP HLTMAif UNDEltSTANDINO. [bOOK IV of some sensible particles coming from them, as in seeing, hearing, and smelling; by the different impulse of which parts, caused by their different size, figure, and motion, the variety of sensations is produced in us.* 12. Whether then they be globules or no, or whether they have a verticity about their own centres that produces the idea of whiteness in us ; this is certain, that the more particles of light are reflected from a body fitted to give them that peculiar motion which produces the sensation of whiteness in us; and possibly too, the quicker that peculiar motion is, the whiter does the body appear from which the greater number are reflected, as is evident in the same piece of paper put in the sunbeams, in the shade, and in a dark hole ; in each of which it will produce in us the idea of whiteness in far different degrees. 13. Not knowing, therefore, what number of particles, nor what motion of them is fit to produce any precise degree of whiteness, we cannot demonstrate the certain equality of any two degi-ees of whiteness, because we have no certain standard to measure them by, nor means to dis- tinguish every the least real difference — the only help we have being from our senses, which in this point fail us. But where the difference is so great as to produce in the mind clearly distinct ideas, whose differences can be per- fectly retained, there these ideas or colours, as we see in different kinds, as blue and red, are as capable of demon- stration as ideas of number and extension. What I have here said of whiteness and colours, I think holds true in all secondary qualities and their modes. 14. Sensitive Knowledge of particular Eodstence. — These two, viz., intuition and demonstration, are the degrees of our knowledge ; whatever comes short of one of these, with what assurance soever embraced, is but faith or opinion, but not knowledge, at least in all general truths. There is, in- deed, another perception of the mind employed about the particular existence of finite beings without us, which, going beyond bare probability, and yet not reaching perfectly to * Loijke does not mean that particles of the sensible bodies them- selves are rondnimlly coming off from them to affect onr senses, hut that globnlcs of liglit and air are impelled from the sensible bodies on to our organs of sense and produce in us the sensations. — Ed. CUAP. II.J DEGREES OF ItNOWLlDGE. 141 eitlier of tlie foregoing degrees of certainty, passes under the name of knowledge. There can be nothing more certain than that the idea we receive from an external object is in Dur minds : this is intuitive knowledge. But whether there be anything more than barely that idea in our minds, whether we can thence certainly infer the existence of any- thing without us which corresponds to that idea, is that whereof some men think there may be a question madej because men may have such ideas in their minds when no such thing exists, no such object affects their senses. But^ yet here I think we are provided with an evidence that puts us past doubting: for I ask any one, whether he be not in- vincibly conscious to himself of a different perception when he looks on the sun by day, and thinks on it by night ; when he actually tastes wormwood, or smells a rose, or only thinks on that savour or odour? We as plainly find the difference there is between an idea revived in our minds by our owTi memory, and actually coming into our minds by our senses, as we do between any two distinct ideas. If any one say, a dream may do the same thing, and all these ideas may be produced ia us without any external objects; he may please to dream that I make him this answer : — I. That it is no great matter, whether I remove this scruple or no : where all is but dream, reasoning and argu- ments are of no use, truth and knowledge nothing. 2. That I believe he wQl allow a very manifest difference between dreaming of being in the fire and being actually in it. But yet if he be resolved to appear so sceptical as to main- tain that what I call being actually in the fire is nothing but a dream; and we cannot thereby certainly know that any such thing as fire actually exists without us: I answer, that ye certainly finding that pleasure or pain follows upon the application of certain objects to us, whose existence we perceive, or dream that we pei-ceive, by our senses; this certainly is as great as our happiness or misery, beyond which we have no concernment to know or to be. So that I think we may add to the two former sorts of, knowledge this also of the existencs of particular external objects, by that perception and consciousness we have of the actual entrance of ideas from them, and allow these three degrees of knowledge, viz., intuitive, demonstrative, and sensitive: 142 OP HUMAN IWDEKSTAIfDING. [BOOK IV. in each of which there are different degrees aud ways of evidence and certainty. 15. Knmvledge not always clea/r, where the Ideas a/re so. — But since our knowledge w founded on and employed about our ideas only, will it not follow from thence that it is con- formable to our ideas; and that where Our ideas are clear and distinct, or obscure and confused, our knowledge will be so too? To which I answer, No : for our knowledge consisting in the perception of the agreement or disagree- ment of any two ideas, its clearness or obscurity consists in the clearness or obscurity of that perception, and not in the clearness or obscurity of the ideas themselves ; v. g., a man that has as clear ideas of the angles of a triangle, and of equality to two right ones, as any mathematician in the world, may yet have but a very obscure perception of their agreement, and so have but a very obscure knowledge of it. But ideas, which, oy reason of their obscurity or otherwise, are confuseu, cannot produce any clear or distinct know- ledge; because, as far as any ideas are confused, so far the mind cannot perceive clearly whether they agree or dis- agree : or, to express the same thing in a way less apt to be misunderstood, he that hath not. determined ideas to the words he uses, cannot make propositions of them, of whose truth he can be certain. CHAPTEE III.' OF THE EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 1. Knowledge, as has been said, lying in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas, it follows from hence, that, 1. N^o further than we Jiave Ideas. — First, we can have knowledge no further than we have ideas. 2. II. No further than we cam, perceive their Agreement or Disagreement. — Secondly, That we have no knowledge further than we can have perception of their agreement or disagree- ment. Which perception being: 1 Either by intuition, or the immediate comparing any two ideas; or, 2. By reason, examining the agreement or disagreement of two ideas, by the intervention of some others; or, 3. By sensation, per- CHAP, in.1 EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDQH 143 ceiving the existence of particular things; hence it tko follows : 3. III. Intuititive Knowledge extends itself not to all tlie Relations of all our Ideas. — Thirdly, That we cannot hi.ve au intuitive knowledge that shall extend itself to all our ideas, and all that we would know about them ; because we cannot examine and perceive all the relations they have one to another by juxta-position, or an immediate comparison one with another. Thus, having the ideas of an obtuse and an acute angled triangle, both drawn from equal bases, and between parallels, I can, by intuitive knowledge, perceive the one not to be the other, but cannot that way know whether they be equal or no; because their agreement or disagreement in equality can never be perceived by an im- mediate comparing them: the difference of figure makes their parts incapable of an exact immediate application, and therefore there is need of some intervening qualities to measure them by, which is demonstration, or rational knowledge. 4. IV. Nor demonstrative Knowledge. — Fourthly, It follows, also, from what is above observed, that our rational know- ledge cannot reach to the whole extent of our ideas; because between two different ideas we would examine, we cannot always find such mediums as we can connect one to another with an intuitive knowledge in all the parts of the deduction ; and wherever that fails, we come short of knowledge and demonstration. 5. V. Sensitive Knowledge narrower tham, either. — Fifthly Sensitive knowledge reaching no further than the existence of things actually present to our senses, is yet much narrower than either of the former. 6. VL Our Knowledge, therefore, na/rrower than owr Ideas. — From all which it is evident, that the extent of our know- ledge comes not only short of the rgality of things, but even of the extent of our own ideas. Though our knowledge be limited to our ideas, and cannot exceed them either in extent or perfection; and though these be very narrow bounds, in lespect of the extent of all being, and far short of what we may justly imagine to be in some even created under- standings, not tied down to the dull and narrow information which is to be received from some few, and not very acute ways of perception, such as are oui- senses ; yet it would be 144 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IV. well with us if our kaowledge were but an large as our ideas, and there were not many doubts and inquiries coucerning the ideas we have, whereof we are not, nor I believe ever shall be in this world resolved. Nevertheless I do not question but that human knowledge, under the present cir- cumstances of our beings and constitutions, may be carried much further than it has hitherto been, if men would sin- cerely, and with freedom of mind, employ all that industry and labour of thoiiglit in improving the means of iliscover- ing truth, which they do for the colouring or support of falsehood, to maintain a sy.stem, interest, or party they are once engaged in. But yet, after all, I think I may, without injury to human perfection, be confident, that our knowledgfe would never reach to all we might desire to know concern- ing those ideas we have ; nor be able to surmount all the diificulties, and resolve all the questions that might arise concerning any of them. We have the ideas of a square, a circle, and equality ; and yet, perhaps, shall never be able to find a circle equal to a square, and certainly know that it is so. We have the ideas of matter and thinking, but possibly shall never be able to know whether any mere material being thinks or no;* it being impossible for us, by the contemplation of our own ideas, without revelation, to discover whether Omnipotency has not given to some systems of matter fitly disposed, a power to perceive and think, or else joined and fixed to matter so disposed a thinking im- material substance; it being, in respect of our notions, not much more remote from our comprehension to conceive that God can, if he pleases, superadd to matter a faculty of thinking, than that he .should superadd to it another sub- stance with a faculty of thinking ; since we know not where- in thinking consists, nor to what sort of substances the Almighty has been pleased to give that power, which can- not be in any created being, but merely by the good pleasure and bounty of the Creator. For I see no contradiction iu J. it, that the first eternal thinking being should, if he pleased, 1 give to certain systems of created senseless matter, put to- Vgether as he thinks fit, some degrees of sense, perception,) , aiid thought ; though, as I think I have proved, lib. iv. ch. 10, § 14, &o., it is no less than a contradiction to supposu • See Appendix. No. IX. at the end of vol. ii. CHAP. III.J EiTENT OF HUMAN KfTOWLEDQE. 14fl matter (whicli is evidently in its own natiu-e void of sense and thought) should be that eternal first-thinking being. What certainty of knowledge can any one have, that some perceptions, such as, v. g., pleasure and pain, should not be in some bodies themselves, after a certain manner modified and moved, as well as that they should be in an immaterial substance, upon the motion of the parts of body? Body, as far as we can conceive, being able only to strike and affect body; and motion, according to the utmost reach of our ideas, being able to produce nothing but motion; so that when we allow it to produce pleasure or pain, or the idea of a colour or sound, we are fain to quit our reason, go be- yond our ideas, and attribute it wholly to the good pleasure of our Maker. For since we must allow he has annexed effects to motion, which we can no way conceive motion able to produce, what reason have we to conclude that he could not order them as well to be produced in a subject we can- not conceive capable of them, as well as in a subject we cannot conceive the motion of matter can any way operate upon? I say not this, that I would any way lessen the be- lief of the soul's immateriality: I am not here speaking of probability, but knowledge; and I think not only that it becomes the modesty of philosophy not to pronounce magis- terially, where we want that evidence that can produce know- ledge; but also, that it is of use to us to discern how far our knowledge does reach ; for the state we are at present in, not being that of vision, we must in many things content our- selves with faith and probability; and in the present question, about the immateriality of the soul, if our faculties cannot arrive at demonstrative certainty, we need not think it strange. All the great ends of morality and religion are well enough secured, without philosophical proofs of the soul's immate- riality; since it is evident, that he who made us at the be- ginning to subsist here, sensible, intelligent beings, and for several years continued us in such a state, can and will restore us to the like state of sensibility in another world, and make us capable there to receive the retribution he has designed to men, according to their doings in this life. And therefore it is not of such mighty necessity to determine one way or the other, as some, over-zealous for or against the immateriality of the soul, have been forward to raako VOL. U. L 14G OP HtTMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IV. the world believe. Who, either on the one side indulging too much their thoughts immersed altogether iu matter, can allow no existence to what is not material ; or who, on the other side, finding not cogitation within the natural powers of matter, examined over and over again by the utmost intention of mind, have the confidence to conclude, that Omnipotency itself cannot give perception and thought to a substance which has the modification of solidity. He that con- siders how hardly sensation is, in our thoughts, reconcilable to extended matter; or existence to anything that has no existence at all, wiU confess that he is very far from cer- tainly knowing what his soul is. It is a point which seems to me to be put out of the reach of our knowledge; and he who will give himself leave to consider freely, and look into the dark and intricate part of each hypothesis, will scarce find his reason able to determine him fixedly for or against the soul's materiality : since, on which side soever he views it, either as an unextended substance, or as a thinking extended matter, the difficulty to conceive either wiU, whilst either alone is in his thoughts, still drive him to the con- trary side. An unfair way which some men take with themselves; who, because of the inconceivableness of some- thing they find in one, throw themselves violently into the contrary hypothesis, though altogether as unintelligible to an unbiassed understanding. This serves not only to show the weakness and the scantiness of our knowledge, but the insignificant triumph of such sort of arguments, which, drawn from our own viewsj may satisfy us that we can find no certainty on one side of the question; but do not at all thereby help us to truth by running into the opposite opinion, which, on examination, will be found clogged with equal difficulties. For what safety, what advantage to any one is it, for the avoiding the seeming absurdities, and to him unsurmountable rubs he meets with in one opinion, to take refuge in the contrary, which is built on something altogether as inexplicable, and as far remote from his com- ])rehension? It is past controversy, that we have in us something that thinks; our very doubts about what it is, confirm the certainty of its being, though we must content ourselves in the ignorance of what kind of being it is : and it is in vait to go about to be sceptical in this, as it is un- CHAP. III.1 EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 147 reasonable in most other cases to be positive agaiast the being of anything, because we cannot comprehend its nature. For I would fain know what substance exists, that has not something in it which manifestly baffles our understandings. Other spirits, who see and know the nature and inward constitution of things, how much must they exceed us in knowledge? To which, if we add larger comprehension, which enables them at one glance to see the connexion and agreement of very many ideas, and readily supplies to them the intermediate proofs, which we by single and slow steps, and long poring in the dark, hardly at last find out, and are often ready to forget one before we have hunted out an- other; we may guess at some part of the happiness of superior ranks of spirits, who have a quicker and more penetrating sight, as well as a larger field of knowledge.* But to return * Baxter, than whom few men of purer mind or more undoubted piety have ever existed, appears to have contemplated this question in much the same light as Locke. He seems to have despaired of arriving at certainty on such matters in this world, and being passionately in love with knowledge, conceived that much of the happiness of a future life would consist in unravelling those mysteries, the bare skirts of which we can here discern through a glass darkly. ** It will," he says, "be some addition to my fature happiness that I shall then be much better acquainted with myself both with rny nature, and with my sin and grace. I shall then better know the nature of a soul, and its formal faculties, three in one. I shall know the nature and way of its operations, and how far its acts are simple, or compound, or organical. I shall know how far memory, phantasy, and sense internal and external belong to the rational soul, and whether the sensitive and rational are two or one, and what senses will perish, and what not. I shall know how the soul doth act upon itself, and what acts it hath that are not felt, in sleep, in apoplexies, and in the womb. I shall know whether the vegetative nature be anything else than fire, and whether it be of the game essence with the soul, sensitive or rational; and whether fire enwneTUer be a common fundamental substance of all spirits, diversely specified by the forms, mental, sensitive, and vegetative ; or whether it be as a body, or vehicle to spirits, or rather a nature made for the copulation of spirits and bodies, and the operation of the former on the latter, as between both ; and whether fire, and what sort, be the active forma teUwria, and of other globes. I shall know how far souls are one and yet many, and how they are individuate ; and whether their quamr tUas discreta, in being nmnerically many, do prove that they have any qutmHiatem contivMom, and whether they are a purer sort of bodies, as the Greek fathers, Tertullian and others, thought, and what imma- teriality signifieth : and what substantiality of spirit ; and how substantia »nd materia differ; and how far they are penetrable and indivisible; and whether a soul be Broperly pars : and whether individual soula are parts 1.2 148 OP HUMAir ITNBERSTANDING. [bOOK IV to the argument in hand : oar knowledge, I say, is not only limited to the paucity and imperfections of the ideas we have, and.which we employ it about, but even comes short of that too. But how far it reaches, let us now inquire. 7. How 'far our Knowledge reaches. — The affirmations or negations we make concerning the ideas we have, may, as I have before intimated in general, be reduced to these four sorts, viz., identity, co-existence, relation, and real existence. I shall examine how far our knowledge extends in each of these. 8. I. Our Knowledge of Identify and Diversity, asfa/r as our Ideas. — First, as to identity and diversity in this way of agreement or disagreement of our ideas, our intuitive know- ledge is as far extended as our ideas themselves; and there can be no idea in the mind, which it does not presently, by an intuitive knowledge, perceive to be what it is, and to be different from any other. 9. II. Of Co-existence, a very little Way. — Secondly, as to the second sort, which is the agreement or disagreement of our ideas in co-existence, in this our knowledge is very short, though in this consists the greatest and most material part of owe knowledge concerning substances. For our ideas of the species of substances being, as I have showed, nothing but certain collections of simple ideas united in one subject, and so co-existing together; v. g., our idea of flame is a body hot, luminous, and moving upward; of gold, a body heavy to a certain degree, yellow, malleable, and fusible; these, or somo such complex ideas as these, in men's minds, do these two names of the different substances, flame and gold, stand for. When ^we would know anything further concerning these, or any other sort of substances, what do we inquire, but what othef qualities or power these substances have or Iiave not ? W hich is nothing else but to know what other " of anj' common soul ; and how far the individuation doth continue. • And whether separated from the .-body, they operate in and by any othci vehicle, or without, and how ; and whether Uiey take with them any oi their fiery natui'e as a vehicle or as a constitutive part. I shall know how God produceth souls ; and how his production by emanation or creation, doth consist in generation ; and how forms are multiplied ; and what causality the parents' soul hath to the production of the cliild Whether by communication of substance, or only by disposing the rt> dioient matter." (Dying Thoughts, p. 183 et seq.) — En. CHAP, in.] EXTENT OF HirMAN KNOWLEDGl. 149 simple ideas do or do not co-exist with those that make up that complex idea. 10. Because the Connexion between most simple Ideas is unknown. — This, how weighty and considerable a part soever of human science, is yet veiy narrow, and scarce any at all. The reason whereof is, that the simple ideas whereof our complex ideas of substances are made up axe, for the most part, such as carry with them, in their own nature, no visible necessary connexion or inconsistency with any other simple ideas, whose co-existence with them we would inform ourselves about. 11. Especially of seanida/ry QvAjlities. — The ideas that oui complex ones of substances are made up of, and about which our knowledge concerning substances is most employed, ai-e' those of their secondary qualities; which depending all (as has been shown) upon the primary qualities of their minute and insensible parts; or, if not upon them, upon something yet more remote from our comprehension; it is impossible we should know which have a necessary union or incon- sistency one with another : for not knowing the root they spring from, not knowing what size, figui'e, and texture of parts they are, on which depend and from which result those qualities which make our complex idea of gold, it is impos- sible we should know what other qualities result from or are incompatible with the same constitution of the insensible parts of gold, and so consequently must always co-exist with that complex idea we have of it, or else are inconsistent with it. 12. Because all Connexion between a/ny seconda/ry and priinary Qualities is undiscoverable. — Besides this ignorance of the primary qualities of the insensible parts of bodies, on which depend all their secondary qualities, there is yet an- other and more incurable part of ignorance, which sets us more remote from a certain knowledge of the co-existence or iaco-existence (if T may so say) of different ideas in the hkme subject ; and that is, that there is no discoverable con- nexion between any secondary quality and those primary qualities which it depends on. 13. That the size, figure, and motion of one body should cause a change in the size, figure, and motion of another body, is not beyond our conception ; the separation of the parts of one body upon the intrusion of another ; and tjie 150 OF HITMAN UNIIEESTAjromo. [BOOK IT. change from rest to motion upon impulse : these and the like seem to have some connexion one with another. And if we knew these primary qualities of bodies, we might have reason to hope we might be able to know a great deal more of these operations of them one with another ; but our minds not being able to discover any connexion betwixt these pri- mary qualities of bodies and the sensations that are produced in us by them, we can never be able to establish certain and undoubted rules of the consequences or co-existence of any secondary qualities, though we could discover the size, figure, or motion of those invisible parts which immediately produce them. We are so far from knowing what figure, size, or motion of parts produce a yellow colour, a sweet taste, or a sharp sound, that we can by no means conceive how anj size, figure, or motion of any particles, can possibly produce in us the idea of any colour, taste or sound whatsover ; there is no conceivable connexion betwixt the one and the other. 14. In vain, therefore, shall we endeavour to discover by our ideas (the only true way of certain and universal know- ledge) what other ideas are to be found constantly joined with that of our complex idea of any substance : since we neither know the real constitution of the minute parts on which their qualities do depend ; nor, did we know them, could we discover any necessary connexion between them and any of the secondary qualities ; which is necessary to be done before we can certainly know their necessary ca-exist- ence. So, that, let our complex idea of any species of sub- stances be what it wiU, we can hardly, from the simple ideas contained in it, certainly determine the necessary co-exist- ence of any other quality whatsoever. Our knowledge in all these inquiries reaches very little further than our experience Indeed some few of the primary qualities have a necessary dependence and visible connexion one with another, as figure necessarily supposes extension ; receiving or communicating motion by impulse, supposes solidity. But though these and perhaps some other of our ideas have, yet there are so few of them that ha,ve a visible connexion one with another, that we can by intuition or demonstration discover the co-exist- ence of very few of the qualities that are to be found united in substances ; and we are left only to the assistance of our senses to make known to us what qualities they contain. For of all the qualities that are co-existent in any subject, with- CHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOVVLEIJGE. 151 out this d^endence and evident connexion of their ideas one with another, we cannot know certainly any two to co-exist any further than experience, by oiir senses, informs us. Thus, though we see the yellow colour, and u'pon trial, find the weight, malleableness, fusibility, and fixedness that are united in a piece of gold ; yet because no one of these ideas has any evident dependence or necessary connexion with the other, we cannot certainly know that where any four of these are, the fifth will be there also, how highly probable soever it may be ; because the highest probability amounts not to cer- tainty, without which there can be no true knowledge. For this co-existence can be no further known than it is per- ceived ; and it cannot be perceived but either in particular subjects, by the observation of our senses, or, in general, by the necessary connexion of the ideas themselves. 15. Of Repugnancy to co-exist, larger. — As to the incom- patibility or repugnancy to co-existence, we may know, that any subject may have of each sort of primary qualities but one particular at once : v. g., each particular extension, figure, number of parts, motion, excludes all other of each kind. The like also is certain of all sensible ideas peculiar to each sense ; for whatever of each kind is present in any subject, excludes aU other of that sort : v. g., no one subject can have two smells or two colo'irs at the same time. To this, perhaps wHl be said, Has not an opal, or the infusion of lignum nephriticum, two colours at the same time ? To which I answer, that these bodies, to eyes difierently "placed, may at the same time afford difierent colours : but I take liberty also to say, that, to eyes differently placed, it is different parts of the object that reflect the particles of light : and" therefore it is not the same part of the object, and so not the very same' subject, which at the same time appears both yellow and azure. For it is as impossible that the very same particle of any bo'dy should at the same time differently modify or reflect the rays of light, as that it should have twc different figures and textures at the same time.* - * Of this rare and beautiful stnne Anselni Boetius do Boot, of Bruges, physician to the Emperor Kudolph II., gives the following description: — "Opalns gemma est omnium pulcherrima, meoque judicio omnibna alus preferenda non solum propter summam ipsius e leganliaai, duni omiiis generis colores, lucis reflectione, in eadem parte oeto.itat (i'leci 152 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. (BOOK llx. 16. Of the Go-existence of Powers a very little Way. — But as to the powers of substances to change the sensible qualities of other bodies, which make a great part of our inquiries about them, and is no inconsiderable branch of our know- ledge ; I doubt as to these, whether our knowledge reaches much further than our experience ; or whether we can come to the discovery of most of these powers, and be certain that they are in any subject, by the connexion with any of those ideas which to us make its essence. Because the active and passive powers of bodies, and their ways of operating con- sisting in a texture and motion of parts, which we cannot by any means come to discover ; it is but in very few cases we can be able to perceive their dependence on, or repugnance to, any of those ideas which make our complex one of that sort of things. I have here instanced in the corpuscularian hypothesis, as that which is thought to go furthest in an intelligible explication of those qualities of bodies ; and I fear the weakness of human understanding is scarce able to substitute another, which will afford us a fuller and clearer enim illi carbunculi tenuior ignis, Amethysti fulgens purpura, Smaragdi virens mare, et cuncta pariter incredibili mistura lucentia) verum etiam, quia ut aliae gemme adulterari nulla ratione potest. Si subjeceris eninj cbrystallo varies colores illi in eodem loco herebunt, neque diversos pro radiorum refiectione edent. Apparet in opalo, ceruleus, purpureus, viridis, flavus, et ruber, interdum niger, et albus, id est, lacteus. Non videntur bi colores omnes inesse gemme : quia si frangatur opalus pereunt, ita ut tantum ex refiectione unius, aut duorum colorum colorum oriri, (ut in iride apparet, et in triangulo cbrystallino, in quo ex sola lucis refiectione in angulos varii colores sese efferunt) putandum sit." (Gemniarum et Lapidum Historia, 1. ii. c. 46.) No less elegant is the description which Mr. Ma we has given of this precious stone. "The coliur of the opal is white or pearl grey ; and when held between the eyes and the light is pale red or wine yellow, with a milky translucency. By reflected light it exhibits, as its position is varied, elegant and most irridescent colours, particularly emerald green, golden yellow, flame and fire red, violet puqile, and celestial blue, so beautifully blended and so fascinating as to captivate the admirer. When the colour is arranged ir. small spangles it takes the name of harlequin opal. Sometimes it exhibits only one of the above colours ; and of them the most esteemed are the civic emerald gi-een, and the orange yellow. When the stone possesses the latter of these colours it is called the Golden opal." (Treatise on Diamonds, p. 123.) Hazelquist mentions an ancient opal, found in the ruins of Alexandria, which ' ' was of the size of a hazel-nut in the form of > half-globe, and set in a ring ; if it was held horizontally it had a very fine olive colour, but if it was held perpendicularly beUvccn the eye and the light it had the odour of the finest ruby." (Travels, &o. p. 273.) — Ed. CHA.P. III.] EXTENT OF HITMA.N KNOWLEDGE. 153 discovery of the necessary connexion and co-existence of the powers whicli are to be observed united in several sorts of them. This at least is certain, that, whichever hypothesis be clearest and truest, (for of that it is not my business tv determine,) our knowledge concerning corporeal substances will be very little advanced by any of them, tUl we are made to see what qualities and powers of bodies have a necessaiy connexion or repugnancy one with another ; which in the present state of philosophy I think we know but to a very small degree : and I doubt whether, with those faculties wo have, we shall ever be able to carry our general knowledge (I say not particular experience) in this part much further. Experience is that which in this part we must depend on. And it were to be wished that it were more improved. We find the advantages some men's generous pains have this way brought to the stock of natural knowledge. And if others, especially the philosophers by fire, who pretend to it, had been so wary in their observations, and sincere in their reports as those who call themselves philosophers ought to liave been, our acquaintance with the bodies here about us, and our insight into their powers and operations had been yet much greater.* 17. Of Spirits yet nwrrower. — If we are at a loss in respect of the powers and operations of bodies, I think it is easy to conclude we are much more in the dark in reference to the spirits; whereof we naturally have no ideas but what we draw from that of our own, by reflecting on the operations of our own souls within us, as far as they can come within our observation. But how inconsiderable a rank the spirits that inhabit our bodies hold amongst those various and pos- sibly innumerable kinds of nobler beings ; and how far short they come of the endowments and perfections of chenabim and seraphim, and infinite sorts of spirits above us, is what by a transient hint in another place I have ofiered to my reader's consideration. 18. III. Of other Relations it is not easy to say how far. — Thirdly, As to the third sort of our knowledge, viz., the agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas in any other relation: this, as it is the largest field of our knowledge, so it is hard to determine how far it may extend; because the * See Lord Bacon's JNew Atlantis, p 253, et setj — Hd. 164 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IV. advances that are made in this part of knowledge depending on our sagacity in finding intermediate ideas, that may show the relations and habitudes of ideas whose co-existence is not. considered, it is a hard matter to tell when we are at an end of such discoveries ; and when reason has all the helps it is capable of, for the finding of proofs, or examining the agree- ment or disagreement of remote ideas. They that are igno- rant of algebra cannot imagine the wonders in this kind are to he done by it : and what further improvements and helps advantageous to other parts of knowledge the sagacious mind of man may yet find out, it is not easy to determine. This at least I believe, that the ideas of quantity are not those Alone that are capable of demonstration and knowledge ; and that other, and perhaps more useful parts of contemplation would afford us certainty, if vices, passions, and domineering interest did not oppose or menace such endeavours. Morality capable of Benwnstration. — The idea of a supreme Being, infinite in power, goodness, and wisdom, whose work- manship we are, and on whom we Hepend; and the idea of ourselves, as understanding rational beings; being such as are clear in us, would, I suppose, if duly considered and pur- sued, afibrd such foundations of our duty and rules of action as might place morality amongst the sciences capable of de- monstration : wherein I doubt not but from self-evident pro- positions by necessary consequences, as incontestible as those in mathematics, the measures of right and wrong might be made out to any one that will apply himself with the same indifierency and attention to the one as he does to the othe^ of these sciences. The relation of other modes may certainlv be perceived, as well as those of number and extension : and I cannot see why they should not also be capable of demon- stration if due methods were thought on to examine or pursue their agreement or disagreement. Where there is no property there is no injustice, is a proposition as certain as any demonstration in Euclid : for the idea of property being a right to anything, and the idea to which the name injustice is given being the invasion or violation of that right,* it ia * Tliis is an exceedingly narrow and imperfect view of justice, the most complete theory of which is developed in the Republic of Plato, rhero prevailed, iiowever, extremely false notions of thia virtue among many ancient philosophers, one of whom defined it to be, obedience to CHAP. III.] EXTENT OP HUMAU KNOWLEDGE. 155 evident that these ideas being thus established, and these names annexed to them, I can as certainly know this pro- position to be true, as that a triangle has three angles equal to two right ones. Again : No government allows absolute liberty ; The idea of government being the establishment of society upon certain rules or laws which requu-e conformity to them, and the idea of absolute liberty being for any one to do whatever he pleases, I am as capable of being certain of the truth of this proposition as of any in the mathematics. 19. Two things have •made inoral Ideas to be thought inca- pable of Demonstration: tlieir Complexedness and Want of sensible Representations. — That which in this respect has given the advantage to the ideas of quantity, and made them thought more capable of certainty and demonstration, is, First, That they can be set down and represented by sen- sible marks, which have a greater and nearer correspondence with them than any words or sounds whatsoever. Diagrams drawn on paper are copies of the ideas in the mind, and not liable to the uncertainty that words carry in their significa- tion. An angle, circle, or square, drawn in lines, lies open to the view, and cannot be mistaken : it remains unchange- able, and may at leisure be considered and examined, and the demonstration be revised, and all the parts of it may be gone over more than once without any danger of the least change in the ideas. This cannot be thus done in moral ideas : we have no sensible marks that resemble them, whereby we can set them down; we have nothing but words to express them by ; which, though when written they nilera. ' ' Aijcaiov iari ravra ttouXv, o ol dpxovreg irpotrkra^av. " But if so, theii certainly those philosophers were deluded dreamers, who sought for eternal foundations for right and wrong. The government, accord- ing to this maxim, is the creator of justice, and can never possibly do wrong ; since, whatever it pleases to order or do, is just. The idea of Pericles, however, respecting law, differed very little from the above. " TravTeg ovrot vofxoi daiv, ovg to ttXtjQoc avviKdhv (cat SoKtfidffav iypafe ^pd^ov li re Bit ttouXv Kai a fir]." (Xen, Memor. 1. 1, c. 2, § 42.) Upon this view Horace had framed his idea of a virtuous man. " Vir bonus est quis ? Qui consulta patrum, qui leges juraque servat," &o. (Epist. b. i. 16. 40.) The opinions of Democritus were somewhat loftier, though not perhaps expressed with sufficient clearness : — Aiktj ukv tffTiv, ipduv rd xpv ^ovra' dS.Kiri di p-rj tpSsLv rd XPV tovra, dXKd Trapa TpsTToaOai." ^Stob. Gaisf, XL. iv. 15.)— Ed. 156 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. remain the same, yet the ideas they stand for may change in the same man, and it is \roiy seldom that they are not different in different persons. Secondly, Another thing that makes the greater difficulty in ethics is, that moral ideas are commonly more complex than those of the figures ordinarily considered in mathe- matics. From whence these two inconveniences follow: — First, that their names are of more uncertain signification ; the precise collection of simple ideas they stand for not being so easily agreed on, and so the sign that is used for them in commvinication always, and in thinking often, does not steadily carry with it the same idea. Upon which the same disorder, confusion, and error follow, as would if a man, going to demonstrate something of an heptagon, should, in the diagram he took to do it, leave out one of the angles, or by oversight make the figure with one angle more than the name ordinarily imported, or he intended it should when at first he thought of his demonstration. This often happens, and is hardly avoidable in very complex moral ideas, where the same name being retained, one angle, i. e., one simple idea is left out or put in the complex one (still called by the same name) more at one time than another. Secondly, From the coni- plexedness of these moral ideas there follows another incon- venience, viz., that the mind cannot easily retain those precise combinations so exactly and perfectly as is necessary in the examination of the habitudes and correspondences, agree- ments or disagreements of several of them one with another ; especially where it is to be judged of by long deductions, and the intervention of several other complex ideas to show the agreement or disagreement of two remote ones. The great help against this which mathematicians find in diagrams and figures, which remain unalterable in their draughts, is very apparent, and the memory would often have great difficulty otherwise to retain them so exactly, whilst the mind went over the parts of them step by step to examine their several correspondences. And though in casting up a long sum either in addition, multiplication, or division, every part be only a progression of the mind taking a view of its own ideas, and considering their agreement or disagreement, and the resolution of the question be nothing but the result of the whole, made up of such particiilai'sii tJHAP. III.] ILXTENl OF HUMAN KNOWLEDOa 157 ■whereof the mind has a clear perception ; yet, without setting down the several parts by marks, whose precise significations are known, and by marks that last and remain in view when the memory had let them go, it would be almost impossible to carry so many different ideas in the mind without con- founding or letting slip some parts of the reckoning, and thereby making all our reasonings about it useless. In which case the cyphers or marks help not the miad at all to perceive the agreement of any two or more numbers, their equalities or proportions ; that the mind has only by intiution of its own ideas of the numbers themselves. But the nume- rical characters are helps to the memory, to record and retain the several ideas about which the demonstration is made, whereby a man may know how far his intuitive knowledge in surveying several of the particulars has proceeded; that so he may without confusion go on to what is yet unknown, and at last have in one view before hinn the result of all his perceptions and reasonings. 20. Remedies of tlwse Difficulties. — One part of these dis- advantages iu moral ideas which has made them be thought not capable of demonstration, may iu a good measure be remedied by definitions,^, setting down that collection of simple ideas,* which every term shall stand for, and then using the terms steadily and constantly for that precise col- lection. And what methods algebra or something of that kind may hereafter suggest, to remove the other difficulties, it is not easy to foretel. Confident I am, that, if men would in the same method and with the same indifferency search after moral as they do mathematical truths, they would find them have a stronger connexion one with another, and a more necessary consequence from our clear and distinct ideas, and to come nearer perfect demonstration than is commonly imagined. But much of this is not to be expected whilst the desire of esteem, riches, or power makes men espouse the well-endowed opinions in fashion, and then seek arguments either to make good their beauty, or varnish over and cover their deformity: nothing being so beautiful to the eye as * Cicero's notion of a definition, agreeing substantially with that of Loclte, is veiy clear and precise. " Est definitio, eai-um, rerum, qusB Bunt ejiis rei proprice, quam definire volumus, brevis at circumscripta quffidam expUcatio." (De Orat. L I. c. dii. n. 77.)— Ed. 158 OP HUMAN trNDERSTAUBING. [bOOK IV truth is to the mind, nothing so deformed a/id irreconcilable to the understanding as a lie. For though many a man can with satisfaction enough own a no very handsome wife in his bosom; yet who is bold enough openly to avow, that he has espoused a falsehood, and received into his breast sc ugly a thing as a lie? Whilst the parties of men cram theit tenets down all men's throats whom they can get into their power, without permitting them to examine their truth or falsehood, and will not let truth have fair play iu the world, nor men the liberty to search after it; what improvements can be expected of this kind? What greater light can be hoped for in the moral sciences? The subject part of man- kind in most places might, instead thereof, with Egyptian bondage expect Egyptian darkness, were not the candle of the Lord set up by himself in men's minds, which it is impossible for the breath or power of man wholly to ex- tinguish. 21. Fourthly, Of real Existence : we have an intuitive Knowledge of our own — demonstrative, of God's — sensitive, of some few other things. — As to the fourth sort of our know- ledge, viz., of the real actual existence of things, we have an intuitive knowledge of our own existence, and a demon- strative knowledge of the existence of a God ; of the existence of anything else, we have no other but a sensitive knowledge, which extends not beyond the objects present to our senses. 22. Our Ignorance great. — Our knowledge being so narrow, as I have shown, it wUl perhaps give us some light into the present state of our minds if we look a little into the dark side, and take a view of our ignorance; which, being infinitely larger than our knowledge, may serve much to the quieting of disputes and improvement of useful know- ledge; if discovering how far we have clear and distinct ideas, we confine our thoughts withia the contemplation of those things that are withia the reach of our understandings, and launch not out into that abyss of darkness, (where we have not eyes to see, nor faculties to perceive anything,) out of a presumption that nothing is beyond our comprehension. But to be satisfied of the folly of such a conceit, we need not go far. He that knows anything, knows this, in the first place, that he need not seek long for instances of his igno- rance. The meanest and most obvious things that come in CHAP, ni.1 EXTENT OF HUMAS KNOWLEDGE. 159 our way have dark sides, that the quickest sight cannot pene- trate into. The clearest and most enlarged understandings of thinking men find themselves puzzled and at a loss in every particle of matter. We shall the less wonder to find it so, when we consider the causes of our ignorance ; which, from what has been said, 1 sTippose will be found to be these three : — First, Want of ideas. Secondly, Want of a discoverable connexion between tha ideas we have. Thirdly, Want of tracing and examining our ideas. 23. First, One Cause of it, Want of Ideas, either such as we ha/ve no Conception of, or such as pa/rtiaula/rly we have not. — First, There are some things, and those not a few, that we are ignorant of, for want of ideas. First, all the simple ideas we have, are confined (as I have shown) to those we receive from, corporeal objects by sen- sation, and from the operations of our own minds as the objects of reflection. But how much these few and narrow inlets are disproportionate to the vast whole extent of all beings, will not be hard to persuade those who are not so foolish as to think thefr span the measure of all things. What other simple ideas it is possible the creatures in other parts of the universe may have, by the assistance of senses and faculties more or perfecter than we have, or different from ours, it is not for us to determine. But to say or think there are no such, because we conceive nothing of them, is no better an argument than if a bHnd man should be positive in it, that there was no such thing as sight and colotirs, because he had no manner of idea of any such thing, nor could by amy means frame to himself any notions about seeing. The ignorance and darkness that is in us no more hinders nor confines the knowledge that is in others, than the blindness of a mole* is an argument against the quick- sightedness of an eagle. He that will consider the infinite * This is a received error ; but in point of fact, the common mole is not blind, though its eyes are sniall and dim, suited to the exigencies of Its peculiar state of existence. Aristotle describes the mole as blind, foi irhich he was long ridiculed by witty and unphilosophical naturalists, until it was at length discovered that the peculiar species of mole found m Greece id actually in the condition described by Aristotle and in th« text. — Ed. 160 OP HU.UAN UNDEtlSTAIfDING. [BOOK IV power, wisdom, and goodness of the Creator of all things will find reason to think it was not all laid out upon so inconsiderable, mean, and impotent a creature as he will find man to be, who in all probability is one of the lowest of all intellectual beings. What faculties, therefore, other species of creatures have to penetrate into the nature and inmost constitutions of things, what ideas they may receive of them far different from ours, we know not. This we know and certainly find, that we want several other views of them besides those we have, to make discoveries of them more per- fect. And we may be convinced that the ideas we can attain to by our faculties are very disproportionate to things them- selves, when a positive, clear, distinct one of substance itself, which is the foundation of all the rest, is concealed from us. But want of ideas of this kind being a part as well as cause of our ignorance, cannot be described. Only this I think I may confidently say of it, that the intellectual and sensible world are in this perfectly alike; that that part which we see of either of them holds no proportion with what we see not; and whatsoever we can reach with our eyes or our thoughts of either of them is but a point, almost nothing in comparison of the rest. 24. Because of their Remoteness; or, — Secondly, Another great cause of ignorance is the want of ideas we are capable of. As the want of ideas, which our faculties are not able to give us, shuts us wholly from those views of things which it is reasonable to think other beings, perfecter than we, have, of which we know nothing; so the want of ideas I now speak of keeps us in ignorance of things we conceive capable of being known to us. Bulk, figure, and motion we have ideas of. But though we are not without ideas of these primary qualities of bodies in general, yet not knowing what is the particular bulk, figure, and motion, of the greatest part of the bodies of the universe, we are ignorant of the several powers, efficacies, and ways of operation, whereby the efiects which we daily see are produced. These are hid from us in some things by being too remote, and in others by being too minute. When we consider the vast distance of the known and visible parts of the world, and the reasons we have to think that what lies within our ken is but a small .part oi the »iniverse, we shall then discover a huge abyss of igno- CHAP. III.] EXTKNT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. IGl ranee. W bat are the particjilar fabrics of the great masses of matter which make up the whole stupendous frame of cor- poreal beings, how far they are extended, what is their motion, and how continued or communicated, and what influence they have one upon another, ai'e contemplations that at first glimpse our thoughts lose themselves in. If we narrow our contemplations and confine our thoughts to this little canton — I mean this system of our sun, and the grosser masses of matter that visibly move about it — what several sorts of vegetables, animals, and intellectual corporeal beings, infinitely different from those of our little spot of earth, may there probably be in the other planets, to the knowledge of which — even of their outward figures and parts — we can no way attain whilst we are confined to this earth; there being no natural means, either by sensation or reflection, to convey their certain ideas into owe minds ! They are out of the reach of those inlets of all our knowledge: and what sorts of furniture and inhabitants those mansions contain in them we cannot so much as guess, much less have clear and distinct ideas of them. 25. Because of their Minuteness. — If a great, nay, far the greatest part of the several ranks of bodies in the universe escape our notice by their remoteness, there are others that are no less concealed from us by their minuteness. These insensible corpuscles being the active parts of matter and the great instmments of nature, on which depend not only all their secondary qualities, but also most of their natural operations, our want of precise distinct ideas of their primary qualities keeps us in an incurable ignorance of what we desire to know about them. I doubt not but if we could discover the figure, size, texture, and motion of the minute coLstituent parts, of any two bodies, we should know without trial seve- ral of their operations one upon another, as we do now the properties of a square or a triangle. Did we kiiuw the me- chanical affections of the particles of rhubarb, hemlock, opium, and a man, as a watchmaker does those of a watch, whereby it performs its operations, and of a file, which by rubbing on them will alter the figure of any of the wheels, we should be able to tell beforehand that rhubarb will purge, hemlock kill, and opium make a man sleep; as well as a watchmaker can that a little piece of paper laid on the balance will keep tin VOL. IL M 162 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [bOOK F vvatch from going, till it be I'emoved; or that, some sma part of it being rubbed by a file, tlie macbine would quil lose its laotion, and the watoh go no more. The dissolvin of silver in aqua fortis, and gold in aqua regia, and not vie versa, would be then perhaps no more difficult to know tha it is to a smith to understand why the turning of one ke will open a lock, and not the turning of another. Bi; whilst we are destitute of senses acute enough to discovi the minute particles of bodies, and to give us. ideas of thei mechanical afiections, we must be content to be ignorant < their properties and ways of operation; nor can we be a: bure^i about them any further than some few trials "we mak are able to reach. But whether they will succeed agai another time, we cannot be certain.* This hinders ou certain knowledge of universal truths concerning naturs bodies : and our reason carries us herein very little beyon particular matter of fact. 26. Hence no Science of Bodies. — And therefore 1 am aj: tO' doubt that, how far soever human industry may ad vane useful and experimental philosophy in physical thingi scientifical will still be out of our reach; because we wan perfect and adequate ideas of those very bodies which ar nearest to us, and most under our command. Those whic we have ranked into classes under names, and we think oui selves best acquainted with, we have but very imperfect an^ incomplete ideas of Distinct ideas of the several sorts c bodies that fall under the examination of our senses perhap we may have; but adequate ideas, T suspect, we have not c any one amongst them. And though the former of thes will serve us for common use and discourse, yet whilst w want the latter, we are not capable of scientifical knowledge nor shall ever be able to discover general, instructive, un questionable truths concerning them. Certainty and demon stration are things we must not, in these matters, pretend tc By the colour, figure, taste, and smeU, and other sensibl qualities, we have as clear and distinct ideas of sage an( hemlock, as we have of a circle and a triangle ; but havinj no ideas of the nai-ticular nrimarv oua.lities nf fho Tninnf CHAP. III.J EXTENT OF HUMAN lUfOWLEDOK 163 produce ; nor when we see those effects can we so much as guess, much less know, their manner of production. Thus, having no ideas of th« particular mechanical affections of the minute parts of bodies that are within our view and reach, we are ignorant of their constitutions, powers, and operations : aiid of bodies more remote we are yet more ignorant, not knowing so much as their veiy outward shapes, or the sen- sible and grosser parts of their constitutions. 27. Much less of Spirits. — This at first will sliow us how disproportionate our knowledge is to the whole extent even of material beings; to which if we add the consideration of that infinite number of spirits that may be, and probably are, which are yet more remote from our knowledge, whereof we have no cognizance, nor can frame to ourselves any dis- tinct ideas of their several ranks and sorts, we shall find this cause of ignorance conceal from us, in an impenetrable ob- scurity, almost the whole intellectual world; a greater, cer-- tainly, and more beautiful world than the material. , For, bating some very few, and those, if I may so call them, superficial ide3,s of spirit, which by reflection we get of our own, and from tlience the best we can collect of the Father of all spirits, the eternal independent Author of them, and' us, and all things, we have no certain information, so much as of the existence of other spirits, but by revelation. Angels of aU sorts are naturally beyond our discovery ; and all those intelligences, whereof it is likely there are more orders than of corporeal substances, are things whereof our natural facul- ties give us no certain account at all. That there ai-e minds and thinking beings in other men as well as himself, every man has a reason, from their words and actions, to be satisfied : and the knowledge of his own mind cannot suffer a man that considers, to be ignorant that there is a God. But that there are degrees of spiritual beings between us and the great God, who is there, that, by his own search and ability, can come to know? Much less have we distinct ideas of their different natures, conditions, states, powers, and several constitutions wherein they agree or differ from one another and from ua. And, therefore, iu what concerns their different species and properties we are in absolute ignorance.* * This is evidently directed against that part of the Cartesian system, »hich pretends to discuss the natur^of angels. It even appears to havs H 2 It>4 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAli-DING. [BOOK IV 28 Secondly, Want of a discoverable Connexion between fdeas we have. — Secondly, What a small part of the sub- been imagmed by those bold speculators, tbat some approximation can be made towards ascertaining the numbers of the heavenly hosts, of which philosophical calculation take the following example from Antoine L<3 Grand; — "Tahnudistse Augelos ad certum quEedam numenim redigunt, eos per turmas distribuendo, et cuique earum suos veluti mihtes assig- nando. Quippe secundum E. P. Georgium Venetum ex oi'dine S. Pran- oisci, distinguunt Talmudistse Angelorum exercitus in Mazaloth, El, Ligion, Eihaton, Chirton, Gistera, Mazaloth autem dicunt esse duodecim, juxta duodecim signa Zodiaci. El verb dicunt ease cohortes triginta, pro quo- libet illorum duodecim. TJnde sunt in numero treoentee sexginta Ange- lorum cohortes Legion autem multiplicat ilium numerum trecentorum flexaginta per triginta. Unde resultat numerus decern niillium et octin- gentorum. Et hunc numerum ipsi Talmudistffl multiplicant pariter per triginta : et sic fit Bihaton constans ex noningentis millium millibus et septuaginta duobus millibus. Et hunc numerum pari mode per triginta multiplicant, unde resultat Gistera, constans ex ducentis nonaginta et uno milUum millibus, et sexcentis millibus. Quorum omnium summa, est trecenta et tmum milliimi millia, sexcenta et quinquaginta quinque millia, centum et septuaginta duo ; ut ex subjecta Tabella patet. 12 Mazaloth. 360 EL 10,800 Ligion. 324,000 Rihaton. 9,720,000 Chirton. 291,600,000 Gistera. 301,655,172 Angelorum Cohortes simul. (Institut. Phil. Part III. art. vi. § i.) This is >•■ part of philosophy which has been cultivated with singular perseverance by the Orientals, whose acquaintance with angels and devils has consequently been much more intimate than that of any nar tion in the West. Thus we find that, " Some of the Sabaeans worshipped devils, believing they had the shapes of goats, and therefore called them Seirim. On the contrary, the Levitical law prohibited to offer sacrifices to Seirim and to goats, that is to say, devils, appearing in the form of goats. (Levit. xvii. 7.) Though they did abominate blood, as a thing exceedingly detestable, yet they did eat it, believing it to be the food of daemons, and that he that did eat of it should become a brother, or intimate acquaintance of the daemons, insomui-n that they would come to liina, and tell him future events, prohibited. " (Lev. xvii. 10 — 23 ; Stanley's Hist, of Philosophy, c. ii.) Among the ancient magi of Persia, the orders, powers, and distributions of the inhabitants of the spiritual world constituted a favourite object of study ; and even from the fragments of their system which have been transmitted to us, we perceive how great was their fami- liarity with the subjects of Ormuzd and Ahriman. " On y remarque troia ordres d'esprits, d'abord les sept Amsohaspands, esprits doucSs d'immor- talit^ puis les vingt-huit Izeds, et en dernier lieu les innombrablets Fervers. Ormuzd, maltre du monde, est le crdateur et le premier des Amsohaspands ; Bahman, chef des autres, est le second, et le roi de lumifere; le troislcme est Ardibehescht, I'esprit du feu, qui donne le fei OHAP. III.] EXTENT OF HUMAN KNOWLEDGE. 1G5 Btantial beings that are in the universe the want of ideas leaves open to our knowledge, we have snen. In the next place, another cause of ignorance, of no less moment, is a want of a discoverable connexion between those ideas we have. For wherever we want that, we are utterly incapable of universal and certain knowledge; and are, in the former case, left only to observation and expeiiment : which, how narrow and confined it is, how far from general knowledge we need not be told. I shall give some few instances of this cause of our ignorance, and so leave it. It is evident et la vie, le quatrifeme, Schahriver, roi des m^taux; puis vient Sapaii- domad, fille d'Ormuzd, et mfere dea premiers fetres humains Meschia et Meachiane ; ensuite Khordad, roi des saisons, des mois, des anndea, et des jours, qui donne au pur I'eau de puret^; et le dernier de tous, Amerdad, cr^ateur et protecteur des arbres, des moissons, dea troupeaux. Lea Izeda, g^niea inf^rieures, ont 6t6 cr^es par Onnuzd pour verser les bene- dictions sur le monde, et p»ur vuiller sur le peuple dea pura. Les mois, les joui"s, les divisions m^me du jour, et les elemens sont places sous la protection et sous la garde des Ajnschaapanda et des Izeda. Chaoun des Amschaspands a son cortege d'Izeds, qui le servent comme les Amschas- pands eux-mfimes servent Ormuzd. Lea Izeds sont lea una m8.1ea et les autrea femelles. Parmi eux figurent Mithra, ou Meher, qui donne h, la terre le bienfait du jour, et inddpendamment de lui, Korschid, le soleil. Les Fervers sont les Id^ea, les prototypes, les modMes de tous les ^tres, form^es de 1' essence d'Ormuzd, et les plus pures emanations de cetta essence. Ha existent par la parole vivante du cr&teur, aussi sont-ils immortels, et par eux tout vit dans la nature. lis sont placdea au ciel comme des sentinelles vigilantes centre Aiu-iman, et portent h Ormuzd les priferes des hommes pieux, qu'ils prot^gent et punissent de tout mal. Sur la terre, unis k des corps, ila combattent sans cesse les raauvais esprits. lis sont aussi nombreux et aussi diversifies dans leurs espfeoe que les §tres eux-m^mes." Of the angels of darkness, who formed an exact counterpart to the above, we have the following account : " La royaume d'Ahriman corresponde en tout h, celui d'Ormuzd. Lk aussi se trouvent sept Devs superieurs, Ahiiman y compris, et h leur suite uii nombre infini de Devs inferieurs. lis ont 4tA produita par Ahriman, aprfes sa chute, et faits k son image pour la desti'uction du i-oyaume d'Ormuzd. Celui-ci ayant Kr46 le monde de lumifere, Ahriman vint du Bud, se m^la, aux planfetes, p^ndtra dans les etoiles fixes, et cr^a 1^ prince des devs, Eschem, le demon de I'envie, arme de sept t#tes, ei I'adversaire de Serosch, c'est-k-du'e, d'Ormuzd, prince de la teiTe. Main- tenant s'ouvre la lutte, et de m6me que, sur la terre, I'animal combat I'animal, de mSme, dans le monde des esprits, I'esprit combat I'eaprit. Cliacun des sept grands devs a son rival dans I'un des sept Amschas- pands; chacun d'eux est I'auteur d'un mal ou d'un vice particulier." (Oreuzes. Eelig. de I'Antiquite, 1. ii. c. 2. Compare with the above the notes of G-uigniaut, Part ii. p. 701, ot seq. ; and the account of Father Rhode, p 178, et sea '* — Ed. 166 OF HUMAN UNBEESTAHDING. [bOOK IV. that the bulk, figure, and motion of several bodies about us produce in us several sensations, as of colours, sounds, tastes, smells, pleasure, and pain, &c. These mechanical affections of bodies having no affinity at all with those ideas they pro- duce in us, (there being no conceivable connexion between any impulse of any sort of body and any perception of a colour or smell which we find in our minds,) we can have no distinct knowledge of such operations beyond our ex- perience; and can reason no otherwise about them, than as effects produced by the appointment of an infinitely wise Agent, which perfectly surpass our comprehensions. As the ideas of sensible secondary qualitieswhich we have in oxvo minds, can by lis be no way deduced from bodily causes, nor any correspondence or connexion be found between them and those primary qualities which (experience shows us) produce them in us ; so, on the other side, the operation of our minds upon our bodies is as inconceivable. How any thought should produce a motion in body is as remote from the nature of our ideas, as how any body should produce any thought ■ in the mind. That it is so, if experience did not convince us, the consideration of the things themselves would nevei be able in the least to discover to us. These and the Uke, thoxigh they have a constant and regular connexion in the ordinary course of things; yet that connexion being not discoverable in the ideas themselves, which appearing to have no necessary dependence one on anotlicr, we can attribute their connexion *to nothing else but the arbitrary determination of that all-wise Agent who has made them to be, and to operate as they do, in a way wholly above our weak under- standings to conceive. 29. Instances. — In some of our ideas there are certain re- lations, habitudes, and connexions, so visibly included in the nature of the ideas themselves, that we caimot conceive them separable from them by any power whatsoever; and in these onlv we are capable of certain and universal knowledge. Thus the idea of a right-lined triangle necessarily carries with it an equality of its angles to two right ones. Nor can we conceive this relation, this connexion of these two ideas, to be possibly mutable, or to depend on any arbitrai-y power, which of choice maiie it thus, or could makie it other- wise. But the coherence and continuity of the parts of CHAP. III.] EiTE.VT OF HUiIA>' KXOWLEDGE. 167 matter 3 tlie production of sensation in us of colours and sounds, &c., by impulse and motion; nay, the original rules and communication of motion being such, wherein we can discover no natural connexion with any ideas we have, we cannot but ascribe them to the arbitrary will and good plea- sure of the wise Architect. I need not, I think, here men- tion the resun-ection of the dead, the future state of this globe of earth, and such other things, which are by every one acknowledged to depend wholly on the determination of a free agent. The things that, as far as our observation reaches, we constantly find to proceed regularly, we may conclude do act by a law set them ; but yet by a law that we know not : whereby, though causes work steadily, and effects constantly flow from them, yet their connexions and dependencies being not discoverable in our ideas, we can have but an experimental knowledge of them.* From all which it is easy to perceive what a darkness we are involved in, how little it is of being, and the things that are, that we are capable to know, and therefore we shall do no injury to our knowledge, when we modestly think with ourselves, that we are so far from being able to comprehend the whole nature of the universe, and all the things contained in it, that we are not capable of a philosophical knowledge of the bodies that are about us, and make a part of us : con- cerning their secondary qualities, powers, and operations, we can have no universal certainty. Several effects come every day within the notice of our senses, of which we have so far sensitive knowledgej but the causes, manner, and certainty of their production, for the two foregoing reasons, we must be content to be very ignorant of In these wo can go no ikrther than particular experience informs us of matter of feet, and by analogy to guess what effects the like bodies are, upon other trials, like to produce. But as to a perfect science of natural bodies, (not to mention spiritual beings,) we are, I think, so fer from being capable of any such thing, that I conclude it lost labour to seek after it. 30. III. WaTit of Tracing mi/r Ideas. — Thirdly, Where we have adequate ideas, and where there is a certain and dis- soverable connexion between them, yet we are often ignorant, for want of tracing those ideas which we have or may have ; * See Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, 1. 1, § 3.— Ed. 168 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAITDING. BOOK IV. and for want of finding out those intermediate ideas, -vvliich may show tis what habitude of agreement or disagreement they have one with another : and thus many are ignorant of mathematical truths, not out of any imperfection of their faculties, or uncertainty in the things themselves, but for want of application in acquiring, examining, and by due ways comparing those ideas. That which has most contri- buted to hinder the due tracing of our ideas, and finding out their relations, and agreements or disagreements one with another, has been, I suppose, the ill use of words. It is impossible that men should ever truly seek or certainly discover the agreement or disagreement of ideas themselves, whilst their thoughts flutter about, or stick only in sounds of doubtful and uncertain significations. Mathematicians abstracting their thoughts from names, and accustoming themselves to set before their minds the ideas themselves that they would consider, and not sounds instead of them, have avoided thereby a great part of that perplexity, pud- dering, and confusion, which has so much hindered men's progress in other parts of knowledge. For whilst they stick in words of undetermined and uncertain signification, they are unable to distinguish true from false, certain from pro- bable, consistent from inconsistent, in their own opinions. This having been the fate or misfortune of a great part of men of letters, the increase brought into the stock of real knowledge has been very little, in proportion to the schools, disputes, and writings the world has been filled with ; whilst students, being lost in the great wood of words, knew not whereabouts they were, how far their discoveries were ad- vanced, or what was wanting in their own or the general stock of knowledge. Had men, in" the discoveries of the material, done as they have in those of the intellectual world, involved all in the obscurity of uncertain and doubtful ways of talking, volumes writ of navigation and voyage?,, theoi-ies and stories of zones and tides, multiplied and disputed ; nay, ships built, and fleets sent out, would never liave taught us the way beyond the line ; and the Antipodes would be still as much unknown, as when it was declared heresy to nold th(!re were any.'- But having spoken sufficiently of words, * " AuLreloiB on se moquoit de quelques philosophes qui flisfsout qu il y rtvoit Ufcn Anticodes : quel est I'liomme assez insens^, disoit Lactanoe, CHAP. IV.J REALITY OF KXOTTLKDGE. 169 iiA the ill or careless use that is coinmouly loacle of them. I shall not s;iy anytliiiig more of it here. 31. Extent in nsped to Universaliti/. — Hitherto we have exaiuiiied the extent of our knowledge, in i^-jpect of the several sorts of beings that are. There is another extent ot it, in re.spect of uniTersaUty, which will also deserve to be cxmsidered ; and in this regai-d, our knowledge follows the nature of our ideas. If the ideas are abstract, whose agree- ment or disagreement we perceive, our knowledge is uni- versal For what is known of such geneinil ideas, will be true of every particular thing in whom that essence, i. e., that abstract idea, is to be found ; and what is once known of snch ideas, will be perpetually and for ever true. So that as to all general knowledge we must search and find it only in our minds, and it is only the examining of our own ideas that fiu-nisheth us with that. Truths belonging to essences vt things (that is, to abstract ideas) are eternal, and are to be found out by the contemplation only of those essences, as the existences of things are to be known only fi-om experience. But having more to say of this in the chapters where I shall speak of general and real knowledge, this may here suffice as to the universality of our knowledge in general. CHAPTER rr. OF THE BEALITT OF KS'OWIJDGE. 1. Objection. Knowledge pl^iced in Ideas mat/ be aU bare Vviion. — I DOUBT not but my reader, by this time, may be apt to think that I have been all this while only building a castle in the air ; and be ready to say to me, " To what purpose all this stii* ? Knowledge, say you, is only the per- ception of the agreement or disagreement of our own ideas : but who knows what those ideas may be ! Is there anything so extravagant as the imaginations of men's brains I Where is the head that has no chimeras in it ? Or if there be a sober and a wise man, what difference will there be, by Jl. 3, ch. 23,) pour croire qu'il y a des hommes dont les pieds sont pins elev^ que 1* tete t" (Da Musais Logique, Art. XIIL SojA. VJL p. jS. ) -Ed. ' 170 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IT. yiyuf rules, between his knowledge and that of the most extravagant fancy in the world 1 They both have their id.-as, and perceive their agreement and disagreement one with another. Tf there be any difference between them, the ad- vantage will be on the warm-headed man's side, as having the more ideas, and the more lively ; and so, by your rules, he will be the more knowing. If it be true, that all know- ledge lies only in the perception of the agreement or disagi-ee- ment of our own ideas, the visions of an enthusiast and the reasonings of a sober man will be equally certain. It is no matter how things are, so a man observe but the agreement 6( his own imaginations, and talk conformably, it is all truths all certainty. Such castles in the air will be as strongholds of truth, as the demonstrations of Euclid. That an harpy is not a centaur is by this way as certain knowledge, and as .,, much a truth, as that a square is not a circle. " But of what use is all this fine knowledge of men's own imaginations, to a man that inquires after the reality of things 'I It matters not what men's fancies are, it is the knowledge of things that is only to be prized ; it is this alone gives a value to our reasonings, and preference to one man's knowledge over another's, that it is of things as they really are, and not of dreams and fancies." 2. Answer. Not so, where Ideas agree with Things. — To which I answer, that if our knowledge of our ideas terminate in them, and reach no further, where there is something further intended, our most serious thoughts will be of little more use than the reveries of a crazy brain ; and the truths built thereon of no more weight than the discourses of a man, who sees things clearly in a dream, and with great assurance utters them. But I hope, before I have done, to make it evident that this way of certainty, by the knowledge of our own ideas, goes a little further than bare imagination; arid I believe it will appear that all the certainty of general truths a man has lies in nothing else. / 3. It is evident the mind knows not things immediately, but only by the intervention of the ideas it has of them. Our knowledge, therefore, is real only so far as there is a con- formity between our ideas and the reality of things. But what shall be here the criterion ? How shall the mind, when it perce"!ves nothing but its o\»d. ideas, know that they CHAP. t7.] REALITY OF KXOWLEDOK 171 agree witli things themselves f This, though it seems not to want difficulty, yet, I think, there be two sorts of ideas that we may be assured agree with things. 4. As, I. All simple Ideas do. — Firat, The first are simple ideas, which since the mind, as has been showed, can by no means make to itself, must necessarily be the product of things operating on the mind in a natural way, and pro- ducing therein those perceptions which by the wisdom and i will of our Maker they are ordained and adapted to. From ' whence it follows, that simple ideas are not fictions of our fancies, but the natural and regular productions of things without us, really operating upon us, and so carry with them all the conformity which is intended, or which our state requires ; for they represent to us things under those appear- ances which they are fitted to produce in us, whereby we are enabled to distinguish the sorts of particular substances, to discern the states they are in, and so to take them for our necessities, and to apply them to our uses. Thus the idea of whiteness or bitterness, as it is in the mind, exactly answer- ing that power which is in any body to produce it there. Las all the real conformity it can or ought to have, ■wi'th things without us. Aid this conformity between our , simple ideas and the existence of things, is sufficient for real ■ knowledge. 5. II. AH complex Ideas, except of Substances. — Secondly, All our complex ideas, except those of substances, being archetypes of the mind's own making, not intended to be the copies of anything, nor referred to the existence of any- thing, as to their originals, cannot want any conformity neces- sary to i-eal knowledge. For that which is not designed to represent anything but itself, can never be capable of a wrong representation, nor mislead us from the true appre- hension of anythiugjby its dislikeneas to it ; and such, ex- cepting those of sub as I have showed in which the mind, bji tances, are all our complex ideas, which, another place, are combinations of ideas, its free choice, puts together, without considering any connexion they have in nature. And hence it is, that in all these sorts the ideas themselves are con- fiidered as the auchetypes, and things no otherwise regarded, ' but as they are conformable to them. So that we cannot but be infallibly certain, that all the knowledge we attain cou- 172 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. | BOOK IV. oerning tliese icieaa is real, and readies thiugs themselves; because in all our thoughts, reasonings, and discourses of this kind, we intend things no further than as they are conformable to our ideas. So that in these we cannot miss of a certain and undoubted reality. 6. Hence the RenUty of Mat/iemafical Knowledge. — 1 doubt not but it will be easily granted, that the knowledge we have of mathematical truths is not only certain, but real know- lodge; and not the bare empty vision of vain, insignificant cliimeras ot the brain; and yet, if we will consider, we shall find that il is only of our own ideas. The mathematician considers th.i truth and properties belonging to a rectangle or circle only as they are in idea in his own mind. For it is possible be never found either of them existing mathemati- cally, i. e., precisely true, in his life. But yet the knowledge he has of any truths or properties belonging to a circle, or any"" other mathematical figure, are nevertheless true and certain, even of real things existing ; because real things are no further concerned, nor intended to be meant by any such propositions, than as things really agree to those arche- types in his mind. Is it true of the idea of a triangle, that its three angles are equal to two right ones? It is true also of a triangle, wherever it really exists. Whatever other figure exists, that is not exactly answerable to the idea of a triangle in his mind, is not at all concerned in that pro- position; and therefore he is certain all his knowledge con- cerning such ideas is real knowledge; because, intending things no further than they agree with those his ideas, he is sure what he knows concerning those figures, when they have barely an ideal existence in his mind, will hold true of them also when they ha\e real existence in matter; his considera- tion being barely of those figures which are the isame, wherever or however they exist. 7. And of Moral. — And hence it follows that moral know- ledge is as capable of real certainty as mathematics ; for certainty being but the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, and demonstration nothing but the perception of such agreement, by the intervention of other ideas or mediums; our moral ideas, as well as mathe- matical, being archetypes themselves, and so adequate and oouiplcte ideas, all the agreement or disagreement which w« CHA.e. rV.] REALITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 173 ■jhall find in them will produce real knowledge, as well as iu liiathematical fiarures. 8. Eodstence Tiot required to inake it real. — For the attain- ing of knowledge and certainty, it is requisite that we haye determined ideas; and, to make our knowledge real, it is requisite that the ideas answer their archetypes. Nor let it be wondered, that I place the certainty of our knowledge in the consideration of our ideas, with so little care and regard (as it may seem) to the real existence of things; since most of those discoiirses which take up the thoughts and engage the disputes of those who pretend to make it their business to inquire after truth and certainty, will, I presume, upon examination, be found to be general propositions, and notions in which existence is not at all concerned. All the dis- courses of the mathematicians about the squaring of a circle, conic sections, or any other part of mathematics, concern not the existence of any of those figures; but their de- monstrations, which depend on their ideas, are the same, whether there be any square or circle existing in the world or no. In the same manner, the truth and certainty of moral discourses abstracts from the lives of men, and the existence of those virtues in the world whereof they treat. Nor are Tully's Offices less true, because there is nobody in the world that exactly practises his rules, and lives up to that pattern of a virtuous man which he has given us, and which existed nowhere when he writ, but in idea. li' it be true in speculation, i. e., in idea, that murder deserves death, it will also be true in reality of any action that exists con- formable to that idea of murder. As for other actions, the truth of that proposition concerns them not. And thus it is of all other species of things, which have no other essences but those ideas which are in the minds of men. 9. Nor mil it he less true or certain, because moral Ideas cure of our own making and naming. — But it will here be said, that if moral knowledge be placed in the contemplation »f our own moral ideas, and those, as other modes, be of our own making, what strange notions will there be of justice and temperance! What confusion of virtues and vices, if every one may make what ideas of them he pleases ! No con- fiision or disorder in the things themselves, nor the reasonings about themj no more than (in mathematics) there would be 174 OF HTJMAW UNBEESTAKDINO. [BOOK I^. a disti rbance in the demonstratioa. or a change in the pro- perties of figures, and their relations one to another, if a man should make a triangle with four corners, or a trapezium with four right angles ; that is, in plain English, change the names of the figures, and call that by one name, which mathematicians call ordinarily by another. For let a man man make to himself the idea of a figure with three angles, whereof one is a right one, and call it, if he please, equi- laterum or trapezium, or anything else, the properties of and demonstrations about that idea will be the same, as if he called it a rectangular triangle. I confess the change of the name, by the impropriety of speech, will at first disturb him who knows not what idea it stands for ; but as soon as the figure is drawn, the consequences and demonstrations are plain and clear. Just the same is it in moral knowledge : let a man have the idea of taking from others, without their consent, what their honest industry has possessed them of, and call this justice if he please. He that takes the name here without the idea put to it, will be mistaken by joining another idea of his own to that name : but strip the idea of that name, or take it such as it is in the speaker's mind, and the same things will agree to it, as if you called it injustice, Indeed, wrong names in moral discourses breed usually more disorder, because they are not so easily rectified as in mathe- matics, where the figure, once dra\vii and seen, makes the name useless and of no force. For what need of a sign, when the thing signified is present and in view ? But in moral names that cannot be so easily and shortly done, because of the many decompositions that go to the making up the com- plex ideas of those modes. But yet for all this miscalling of any of those ideas, contrary to the usual signification of the words of that language, hinders not but that we may have certain and demonstrative knowledge uf their several agree- ments and disagreements, if we will carefully, as in mathe- matics, keep to the same precise ideas, and trace them in their several relations one to another, without being led away by their names. If we but separate the idea under consideration from the sign that stands for it, our knowledge goes equally on in the discovery of real truth and certainty whatever sounds we make use of. 1 0. Misnammg distv/rha 'not tho Certainly of the Knom SHAP. I v.] KEALITT OF KNOVjLEDOK. ITfi ledge. — One thing more we are to take notice of, that ■rthere God or any other law-maker hath defined any moral ni\mes, there they have made the essence of that species to which that nam.e belongs ; and there it is not safe to apply or use them otherwise : but in other cases it is bare impropriety of speech to apply them contrary to the common usage of the country. Bat yet even this too disturbs not the certainty of that knowledge which is still to be had by a due contem- plation and comparing of those even nick-named ideas. 11. Ideas of Substances have t/ieir ArcJietypes without lis. — Thirdly, There is another sort of complex ideas, which, being referred to archetypes without us, may differ from them, and so our knowledge about them may come short of being real. Such are our ideas of substances, which, consist- ing of a collection of simple ideas, supposed taken from the works of nature, may yet vary from them, by having mox-e or different ideas united in them, than are to be found united in the things themselves. From whence it comes to pass, that they may, and often do fail of being exactly con- formable to things themselves. 12. So far as they agree mith those, so far our Knowledge concerning them, is real. — I say, then, that to have ideas of substances, which, by being conformable to things, may afford lis real knowledge, it is not enough, as in modes, to put toge- ther such ideas as have no inconsistence, though they did never before so exist; v. g., the ideas of sacrilege or perjury, &c., were as real and true ideas before, as after the existence of any such fact. But our ideas of substances being supposed copies, and referred to archetypes without us, must still bo taken from something that does or has existed; they must not consist of ideas put together at the pleasure of our thoughts, without any real pattern they were taken from, though we can perceive no inconsistence in such a combina- tion. The reason whereof is, because we, knowing not what . i-eal constitution it is of substances whereon our simple ideas j depend, and which really is the cause of the strict union of some of them one with another, and the exclusion of others ; there are very few of them that we can be sure are or are not inconsistent in nature, any further than experience and sensible observation reach. Herein, therefore, is founded the reality of our knowledge concerning substances, that all oui 176 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK. IV comjjlex ideas of them must be such, and such only, as ai'B made up of such simple ones as have been discovered to co- exist in nature. And our ideas being thus true, though not, perhaps, very exact copies, are yet the subjects of real (as far as we have any) knowledge of them ; which (as has been already shown) will not be found to reach very far ; but so far as it does, it will still be real knowledge. Whatever ideas we have, the agreement we find they have with others ■ will still be knowledge. If those ideas be abstract, it will be general knowledge. But to make it real concerning sub- stances, the ideas must be taken from the real existence of things. Whatever simple ideas have been found to co-exist in any substance, these we may with confidence join to- gether again, and so make abstract ideas of substances. For whatever have once had an union in nature, may be united again. 13. In ou/r Inquiries about Substances, we inust consider Ideas, and not confine our Thoughts to Na/mes, or Species supposed set out by Names. — This, if we rightly consider, and confine not our thoughts and abstract ideas to names, as if there were, or could be no other sorts of things than what known names had already determined, and, as it were, sot out, we should think of things with greater freedom and less confusion than perhaps we do. It would possibly be thought a bold paradox, if not a very dangerous falsehood, if I should say that some changelings,* who have lived forty * What changelings were by our superstitious ancestors supposed to be, may be learned from the following stoiy. — " There lived once near Tii''s lake two lonely people, who were sadly plagued with a changeling, given them by the underground people instead of their own child, which had not been baptised in time. This changeling behaved in a veiy strange and uncommon manner, for when there was no one in the place he was in great spints, ran up the walls like a cat, sat under the roof, and shouted and bawled away lustily ; but eat dozing at the end of the table when any one was in the room with him. He was able to eat as much as any four, and never cared what it was that was set before him ; but, though he regai'ded not the quality of his food, in quantity he wag never satisfied, and gave excessive annoyance to every one in the house. "When they had tried for a long time in vain how they could best get rid of him, since there wag no living in the house with him, a smart girl pledged herself that she would banish him from the house ; who accordingly, while he was out in the fields, took a pig and killed it, and put it, hide, hair, and all, into a black pudding, and set it before him when he came home. He began, as was his custom CHAP. IV.J KI5ALITY OP KNOWLEDGE. IT 7 years together without any appearance of reason, are some- thing between a man and a beast ; which prejudice is founded upon nothing else but a fdJse suppcsition, that these two -ames, man and beast, stand for distinct species to set out by real essences, that there can come no other species be- tween them : whereas, if we will abstract from those names, and the supposition of such specific essences made by nature, wherein all things of the same denominations did exactly and equally partake ; if we would not fancy that there were a certain number of these essences, wherein all things, as in moulds, were cast and formed ; we should find that the idea of the shape, motion, and life of a man without reason, is as much a distinct idea, and makes as much a distinct sort of things from man and beast, as the idea of the shape of an ass with reason would be different from either that of man or beast, and be a species of an animal between or distinct from both. 14. Objection against a Chamgding being something between a Man and Beast, answered. — Here everybody will be ready to ask. If changelings may be supposed something between man and beast, pray what are they? I answer. Change- lings j which is as good a word to signify something different from the signification of man or beast, as the names man and beast are to have significations difierent one from the other. This, well considered, would resolve this matter, and show my meaning without any more ado. But I am not so unacquainted with the zeal of some men, which enables them to spin consequences, and to see religion threatened whenever any one ventures to quit their forms of speaking, as not to foresee what names such a proposition as this is like to be charged with : and without doubt it will be asked, If changelings are something between man and beast, what will become of them in the other world? To which I answer, to gobble it up ; but when he had eaten for some time, he began to relax a little in his efforts, and at last he stood still, with his knife in his hand, looking at the pudding. At length, after sitting for some time in this manner, he, began: — 'A pudding with hide! — a pudding with hair! — a pudding with eyes! — and a pudding with legs in it! Well, three times have T seen a young wood by Tir's lake, but never yet iid I see such a pudding ! The devil himself may stay here now for me ! ' So saying, he ran off with himself, and never more came baol< again." (Keightle/s Fairy Mythology, Bohn's edition.) — Eb. VOL. II. N 178 OP hijaiak uxulkstandikg. ''book I'T. 1, It concerns me not to know or inquire. To their own master they stand or fall. It will make their state neither better nor worse, whether we determine anything of it or no. They are in the hands of a faithful Creatoi- and a bountiful Father, who disposes not of his creatures according to our narrow thoughts or opinions, nor distinguishes them according to names and species of our contrivance. And we that know so little of this present world we arc in, may, I think, content ourselves without being peremptory in de- fining the different states which creatures shall come into when they go off this stage. It may suffice us, that he hath made known to all those who are capable of instruction, discoursing, and reasoning, that they shall come to an account, and receive according to what they have done in this body. 15. But, Secondly, I answer. The force of these men's question (viz., Will you deprive changelings of a fature state 1) is founded on one of these two suppositions, which are both false. The first is, that all things that have the outward shape and appearance of a man must necessarily be designed to an immortal future being after this life : or, secondly, that whatever is of human bii-th must be .so. Take away these imaginations, and such questions will be groundless and ridiculous. I desire, then, those who think there is no more but an accidental difference between them- selves and changeling.?, the essence in both being exactly the same, to consider, whether they can imagine immortality annexed to any outward shape of the body? the very pro- posing it is, I suppose, enough to make them disown it. No one yet, that ever I heard of, how much soever immersed in matter, allowed that excellency to any figure of the gross sensible outward parts, as to affirm eternal life due to it, or a necessary consequence of it ;* or that any ma-ss of matter should, after its dissolution here, be again restored hereafter to an everlasting state of sense, perception, and knowledge, only because it was moulded into this or that figure, and * And yet who, by his feelings, is not led to think that beauty de- serves immortality? The ancients, reasoning according to the prindplox of Paganism, imagined this quality to be of a godlike nature, and worthy of divine lionours, which ficcordingly were in some places paid to it. — Ed. dHAP. rV.J REALITY OF KNOWLEDGE 179 had such a particular frame of its visible parti Such an opinion as this, placing immortality in a certain superficial figure, turns out of doors all consideration of soul or spirit^ upon whose account alone some corporeal beings have hitherto been concluded immortal, and others not. This is to attri- bute more to the outside than inside of things ; and to place the excellency of a man more in the external shape of his body, than internal perfections of his soul ; which is but little better than to annex the great and inestimable ad- vantage of immortality and life everlasting, which he has above other material beings, to annex it, I say, to the cut of his beard, or the fashion of his coat. For this or that out- ward mark of our bodies no more carries with it the hope of an eternal duration, than the fashion of a man's suit gives him reasonable gi'ounds to imagine it will never wear out, or that it will make him immortal. It will perhaps be said, that nobody thinks that the shape makes anything immortal, but it is the shape is the sign of a i-ational soul within, which is immortal. I wonder who made it the sign of any such thing ; for barely saying it, will not make it so ; it woidd require some proofe to persuade one of it. No figure that I know speaks any such language. For it may as rationally be concluded, that the dead body of a man, wherein there is to be found no more appearance or action of life than there is in a statue, has yet nevertheless a living soul in it because of its shape ; as that there is a rational soul in a chfjigeling, because hp ha^ the outside of a i"ationai creature, when his actions carry far less marks of reason with them, in the whole course of his life, than what are to be found in many a beast. 16. Jfonsiers. — But it is the issue of rational parents, and must therefore be concluded to have a rational soul I know not by what logic you must so conclude. I am sure this L'^ a conclusion that men nowhere allow o£ For if they did, they would not make bold, as everywhere they do, to destroy ill-formed and mis-shaped productions. Ay, but these are monsters. Let them be so : what will your diiveUing, un- intelligent, intractable changeling hel Shall a defect in the body make a, monster; a defect in the mind (the far more noble, and, in the common phrase, tho far more essential parci not? Shall the want of a nose, or a neck, make a a 2 180 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDINa. [bOOK IV. monster, and put such isnue out of the rank of men ; the want of reason and understanding, not 1 This is to bring all back again to what was exploded just now: this is to place all in the shape, and to take the measure of a man only by his outside. To show that, according to the ordi- nary way of reasoning in this matter, people do lay the whole stress on the figure, and resolve the whole essence of the species of man (as they make it) into the outward shape, how unreasonable soever it be, and how much soever they disown it; we need but trace their thoughts and practice a little further, and then it will plainly appear. The well- shaped changeling is a man, has a rational soul, though it appear not : this is past doubt, say you. Make the ears a little longer, and more pointed, and the nose a little flatter than ordinary, and then you begin to boggle: make the face yet narrower, flatter, and longer, and then you are at a stand : add still more and more of the Hkeness of a brute tc it, and let the head be perfectly that of some other animal, then presently it is a monster ; and it is demonstration with you that it hath no rational soul, and must be destroyed. Where now (I ask) shall be the just measure of the utmost bounds of that shape, that carries with it a rational soul? For since there have been human foetuses produced, half beast and half man; and others three parts one, and one part the other; and so it is possible they may be in all the variety of approaches to the one or the other shape, and may hare several degrees of mixture of the likeness of a man or a brute; I would gladly know what are those pre- cise lineaments, which, according to this hypothesis, are or are not capable of a rational soul to be joined to them. What sort of outside is the certain sign that there is or is not such an inhabitant within? For till that be done, we talk at random of man; and shall always, I fear, do so, as long as we give ourselves up to certain sounds, and the ima/- ginations of settled and fixed species in nature, we know not what. But, after all, I desire it may be considered, that those who think they have answered the difficulty by telling us, that a mis-shaped foetus is a monster, run into the same fault they are arguing against, by constituting a species be- tween man and beast. For what else, I pray, is their mon- ster in the case, (if the word monster signifies anything at CHAP, v.] OF TEtlTH IN GENERAL. 181 all,) but something neither man nor beast, but partaking somewhat of either? And just so is the changeling befora mentioned. So necessary is it to quit the common notion of species and essences, if we will truly look into the naturft of things, and examine them by what our faculties can dis- cover in them as they exist, and not by groundless fancies that have been taken up about them. 17. Words and Species. — I have mentioned this here, be- cause I think we cannot be too cautious that words and species, in the oi-dinary notions which we have been used to of them, impose not on us. For I am apt to think therein lies one great obstacle to our clear and distinct knowledge, especially in reference to substances: and from thence has rose a great part of the difiSculties about truth and certainty. Would we accustom ourselves to separate our contempla- tions and reasonings from words, we might in a great measure remedy this inconvenience within our own thoughts ; but yet it would still disturb us in our discourse with others, as long as we retained the opinion, that species and their essences were anything else but our abstract ideas (such as they are) with names annexed to them, to be the signs of them. 18. EecapitiUation. — Wherever we perceive the agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas, there is certain know- ledge ; and wherever we are sure those ideas agree with the reality of things, there is certain real knowledge. Of which agreement of our ideas with the reality of things, having here given the marks, I think I have shown wherein it is that certainty, real certainty, consists, which, whatever it was to others, was, I confess, to me heretofore, one of those desiderata which I found great want of CHAPTER V. OP TRUTH IN GENERAL. 1. What Truth is. — ^What is truth? was an inquiry many ages since;* and it being that which all mankind either do, " "What is truth? said jesting Pilate, and would not stay for an snswer." (Bacon's Essays on Trutli, p. 1.) The reader, it is probable, wiii m this place call to mind a pansaG;s of sinsjular beauty and delicar y 182 OF HUMAN TINDERSTAA-DINQ, (bOOK IV or pretend to search after, it cannot but be worth our while carefully to examine wherein it consists, and so acquaint ourselves with the nature of it, as to observe how the mind distinguishes it from falsehood. ■which occurs in Aristotle's Ethics, where, in a very few words, he draws a striking parallel between the claims of friendship and trath. Speak- ing of the supreme good, he says: — To Si icaSoXov, j3i\TLov 'id-wf Ittio-ke- xjjaaBai, Kal diairopijiTaL iruic Xeyerai, xaiirtp TtpoaavTois rfji; TOiavrris yivop-iviie ?))7-?j(7£wf, did to (^ aux Fi ancayi CHAP. V.y OF TKaTH IN GENERAL. 183 2. A right joining or separating of Signs, i. e., Ideas or Words. — Truth, then, seems to me, in the proper import of jhe -word, to signify nothing but the joining or separating of signs, as the things signified by them do agree or disagree one with another. The joining or separating of signs here meant, is what by another name we call proposition. So that truth properly belongs only to propositions: whereoi there are two sorts, viz., mental and verbal; as there are two sorts of signs commonly made use of, viz., ideas and words, 3. WMch make mental or verbal Propositions. — To form .a clear notion of truth, it is very necessary to consider truth of thought, and truth of words, distinctly one from another; but yet it is very difficult to treat of them asunder. Because it is unavoidable, in treating of mental propositions, to make use of words ; and then the instances given of mental pro- positions cease immediately to be barely mental, and become verbal. For a mental proposition being nothing but a bare consideration of the ideas, as they are in our minds, stripped of names, they lose the nature of purely mental propositions as soon as they are put into words. 4. Menial PropoAlions a/re very ha/rd to he treated of. — And that which makes it yet harder to treat of mental and verbal propositions separately is, that most men, if not all, in theii thinking and reasonings within themselves, make use of words instead of ideas: at least when the subject of their meditation contains in it com[ilex ideas. Which is a great evidence of the imperfection and uncertainty of our ideas of that kind, and may, if attentively made use of, servo for a mark to show us what are those things we have clear and perfect established ideas of, and what not. Tor if we will curiously observe the way our mind takes in thinking and reasoning, we shall find, I suppose, that when we make any propositions within our own thoughts about white or black, sweet or bitter, a triangle or a circle, we can and often do le mentir et se parjv/rer n'est pas vice maw rnie facon de pa/rler. Qui voudroit encheris sur ce tesmoignage, il jjourroit dire qui ce leur est a present vertu. On s'y forme, on s'y faconne, comme k un exercise d'honneur; car la dissimulation est des plus notables qualit^s de cc siecle." (L. II. u. xviii. t. vi. p. 128 et seq. On Contemplative Trutli, s«e KierocJefl. In Carm. Pytliag. pp. 219— 276.)— Ed. 184 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK. PV. frame in oui minds the id^as themselv3, without reflecting on the names. But when we would ccnsider, or make pro- positions about the more complex ideas, as of a man, vitriol, fortitude, glory, we usually put the name for the idea ; be- cause the ideas these names stand for, being for the most part imperfect, confused, and undetermined, we reflect on the names themselves, because they are more clear, certain, and distinct, and readier occur to our thoughts than the pure ideas: and so we make use of these words instead of the ideas themselves, even when we would meditate and reason within ourselves, and make tacit mental propositions. In substances, as has been already noticed, this is occasioned by the imperfection of our ideas; we making the name stand foi the real essence, of which we have no idea at all. In modes, it is occasioned by the great number of simple ideas that go to the making them up. For many of them being com- pounded, the name occurs much easier than the complex idea itself, which requires time and attention to be recollected, and exactly represented to the mind, even in those men who have formerly been at the pains to do it; and is utterly impossible to be done by those who, though they have ready in their memory the greatest part of the common words of that language, yet perhaps never troubled themselves in all their lives to consider what precise ideas the most of them stood for. Some confused or obscure notions have served their turns, and many who talk very much of religion and conscience, of church and faith, of power and right, of ob- structions and humours, melancholy and choler, would perhaps have little left in their thoughts and meditations, if one should desire them to think only of the things themselves, and lay by those words with which they so often confound others, and not seldom themselves also. 5. Being nothing hut the joining or separating Ideas without Words. — But to return to the consideration of truth: we must, I say, observe two sorts of propositions that we are capable of making. First, mental, wherein the ideas in our understandings are without the use of words put together, or separated by the mind, perceiving or judging of their agreement or dis- agreement. Secondly, Verbal propositions, which are words, the sigoji CHAP. V.J OF TRUTH IN GENERAL. 185 of our ideas, put together or separated in affirmative or nega- tive sentences. By whicli way of affirming or denying, these signs, made by sounds, are, as it were, put together or sepa,- rated one from another. So that proposition consists in ( joining or separating signs, and truth consists in the putting together or separating those signs, accoi'ding as the things which they stand for agree or disagree. 6. When mental Propositions contain real Truth, and whmi verbal. — Every one's experience will satisfy him, tliat the mind, either by perceiving or supposing the agreement or disagreement of any of its ideas, does tacitly within itself put them into a kind of proposition affirmative or negative, which 1 have endeavoiu-ed to express by the terms putting together and separating. But this action of the mind, which is so familiar to every thinking and reasoning man, is easier to be conceived by reflecting on what passes in us when we affirm or deny, than to be explained by words. When a man has in his head the idea of two lines, viz., the side and diagonal of a square, whereof the diagonal is an inch long, he may have the idea also of the division of that line into a certain number of equal parts; v. g., into five, ten, a hundred, a thousand, or any other number, and may have the idea of that inch line being divisible, or not divisible, into such equal parts, as a certain number of them will be equal to the side- line. Now, whenever he perceives, believes, or supposes such a kind of divisibility to agree or disagree to his idea of that line, he, as it were, joins or separates those two ideas, viz., the idea of that line, and the idea of that kind of divisibility ; and so makes a mental proposition, which is true or false, according as such a kind of divisibility, a divisibility into such aliquot parts, does really agree to that line or no. When ideas are so put together, or separated in the mind, as they or the things they stand for do agree or not, that is, as I may call it, mental truth. But truth of words is something more ; and that is the affirming or denying of words one of another, as the ideas they stand for agree or disagree : and this again is two-fold ; either purely verbal and trifling, which I shall speak of, (chap, viii.,) or real and instructive, which is the object ol that real knowledge which we have spoken of already. 7. Objection against verbal Truth, that thus it may all be cUmmrinal. — But here again will be apt to occur the senm 186 OF HUMAN UWDEKSTANDING. [bOOK IV doubt about truth, tliat did about knowledge : and it will be objected, that if truth be nothing but the joining and separating of words in propositions, as the ideas they stand for agree or disagree in men's minds, the knowledge of truth is not so valuable a thing as it is taken to be, nor worth the pains and time men employ in the search of it ; since by this account it amounts to no more than the conformity of words to the chimeras of men's brains. Who knows not what odd notions mp-ny men's heads are filled with, and what strange ideas all men's brains are capable of 1 But if we rest here, we know the truth of nothing by this rule, but of the visionary words in our own imaginations : nor have other truth, but what as much concerns harpies and centaurs, as men and horses. For those, and the like, may be ideas in our heads, and have their agi-eement or disagreement there, as well as the ideas of real beings, and so have as true propositions made about them. And it will be altogether as true a proposition to say all centaurs are animals, as that all men are animals ; and the certainty of one as great as the other. For in both the propositions, the words are put together according to the agreement of the ideas in our minds : and the agreement of the idea of animal with that of centaur is as clear and visible to the mind, as the agreement of the idea of animal with that of man ; and so these two propositions are equally true, equally certain. But of what use is all such truth to us? 8. Answered, Real Truth is about Ideas agreeing to things. — Though what has been said in the foregoing chapter to distinguish real from imaginary knowledge, might suffice here, in answer to this doubt, to distinguish real truth from chimerical, or (if you please) barely nominal, they depending both on the same foundation ; yet it may not be amiss here again to consider, that though our words signify nothing but our ideas, yet being designed by them to signify things, the truth they contain when put into propositions will be only verbal, when they stand for ideas in the mind that have not an agreement with the reaUty of things. And therefore truth as well as knowledge may well come under the dis- tinction of verbal and real ; that being only verbal truth, ^-herein term that VOL. II. o 226 or HasiAif understasdwg. Jbook iv. nmotmt yet to nothing. For it is plaia, that names of sub- stantial beings, as well as others, as faj- as they have relative significations affixed to them, may, with great truth, ba joined negatively and affirmatively in propositions, as their relative definitions make them fit to be so joined ; and pro- positions consisting of such terms, may, with the same clear- ness, be deduced one from another, as those that convey the most real truths ; and aU this without any knowledge of the natui-e or reality of things existing without us. By this method one may make demonstrations and imdoubted propo- sitions in words, and yet thereby advance not one jot in the knowledge of the truth of things ; v. g., he that having learnt these following words, with their ordinary mutual relative acceptations annexed to them ; v. g. substance, man, animal, form, soul, vegetative, sensitive, rational, may make several undoubted propositions about the soul, without knowing at all what the soul really is : and of this sort, a man may find an infinite number of propositions, reasonings, and con- clusions, in books of metaphysics, school-divinity, and some sort of natural philosophy ; and, after all, know as little of God, spirits, or bodies, as he did before he set out. 10. And why. — He that hath liberty to define, i. e., to determine the signification of his names of substances (as certainly every one does in efiect, who makes them stand for nis own ideas,) and makes their significations at a ventttre, taking them from his own or other men's fancies, and not from an examination or inquiry into the nature of things themselves ; may with little trouble demonstrate them one of another, accoi-ding to those several respects and mutual relations he has given them one to another ; wherein, how- ever things agree or disagree in their own nature, he needs mind nothing but his own notions, with the names he hath bestowed upon them ; but thereby no more increases his own knowledge than, he does his riches, who, taking a bag of counters, caUs one in a certain place a pound, another in another place a shilling, and a third in a third place a penny ; aud so proceeding, may undoubtedly reckon right, and cast up a great sum, according to his counters so placed, and standing for more or less as lie pleases, without being one jot the richer, or without even knowing how much a pound, blulling, or penny is, but only that one is contained in the CHAP Vill.j OF TRIFLING PROPOSITIONS. 227 other twenty times, and contains tbe other twelve : which a man may also do in the signification of words, by making them, in respect of one another, more or less, or equally ■ comprehensive. 1 1. Thirdly, Using Words variously is trijling with tlwm. — Though yet concerning most words used in discourses, equally argumentative and controveraial, there is this more to be complained of, which is the worst sort of trifling, and which sets us yet further from the certainty of knowledge we hope to attain by them, or find in them ; viz., that most writers are so far from instructing us in the nature and knowledge of things, that they use their words loosely and uncertainly, and do not, by rising them constantly and steadily in the same significations, make plain and clear deductions of words one from another, and make their dis- courses coherent and clear, (how little soever they were in- structive,) which were not difficult to do, did they not find it convenient to shelter their ignorance or obstinacy under the obsciu-ity and perplexedness of their terms : to which, per- haps, inadvertency and iU custom do in many men much contribute. 12. Mourks of verbal Propositions. — To conclude : Barely verbal propositions may be known by these following marks : Predication in Abstract. — I. All propositions, wherein two abstract terms are affirmed one of another, are barely about the signification of sounds. For since no abstract idea can be the same with any other but itself, when its abstract name is affirmed of any other term, it can signify no more but this : that it may or ought to be called by that name, or that these two names signify the same idea. Thus, should any one say that parsimony is frugality, that gratitude is justice, that this or that action is or is not temperate ; how- ever specious these and the like propositions may at first sight seem, yet when we come to press them, and examine nicely what they contain, we shall find that it all amounts to . nothing but the signification of those terms. 13. Secondly, A Part of the Defmiiion predicated of any Te/rm. — II. All propositions wherein a ])art of the complex idea which any term stands for is predicated of that term, are only verbal ; v. g., to say that gold is a m^tal, or heavy Q 2 228 OF HUMAN UNBEBSTANTJIITG [bOOK IV. And thus all propositions wherein more comprehensive -words, called genera, are affirmed of suboi'dinate or less compre- hensive, called species, or individuals, are barely verbal. When by these two rules we have examined the proposi- tions that make up the discourses we ordinarily meet with both in and out of books, we shall perhaps find that a greater part of them than is usually suspected are purely about the signification of words, and contain nothing in them but the use and application of these signs. This I think I may lay down for an infallible rule, that, wherever the distinct idea any word stands for is not known aad considered, and something not contained in the idea is not affirmed or denied of it ; there our thoughts stick wholly in sounds, and are able to attain no real truth or falsehood. This, perhaps, if well heeded, might save us a great deal of useless amusement and dispute, and very much shorten our trouble and wandering in the search of real and true know- ledge. CHArTEE IX. OP OXJK KNOWLEDGE OP EXISTENCE. 1. General certain Propositions concern not Existence. — Hitherto we have only considered the essences of things, which being only abstract ideas, and thereby removed in out thoughts from particular existence, (that being the propei operation of the mind, in abstraction, to consider an idea under no other existence but what it has in the understand- ing,) gives us no knowledge of real existence at all. Where, by the way, we may take notice that universal propositions, of whose truth or falsehood we can have certain knowledge, concern not existence ; and farther, that all particular affii^ mations or negations that would not be certain if they were made general, are only concerning existence ; they declaring only the accidental union or separation of ideas in things existing, which, in their abstract natures, have no known necessary union or repugnancy. 2. A threefold Knowledge of Eodstence. — ^But, leaving the nature of propositions and different ways of predication to be CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 229 considered more at large in another place, let us proceed now to inquire concerning our knowledge of the existence of things, and how we come by it. I say, then, that we have the knowledge of our own existence by intuition ; of the existence of God by demonstration ; and of other things h^ sensation. 3. Ov/r Knowledge of our own Existence is Intuitive. — As for our own existence, we perceive it so plainly and so cer- tainly, that it neither needs nor is capable of any proof For nothing can be more evident to us than our own existence : I think, I reason, I feel pleasure and pain : can any of these be more evident to me than my own existence ? If I doubt of all other things, that very doubt makes me perceive my own existence, and wiU not suffer me to doubt of that. For if I know I feel pain, it is evident I have as certain percep- tion of my own existence, as of the existence of the pain I feel : or if I know I doubt, I have as certain perception of the existence of the thing doubting, as of that thought which I call doubt. Experience then convinces us that we have an intuitive knowledge of our own existence, and an internal infallible perception that we are. In every act of sensation, reasoning, or thinking, we are conscious to ourselves of our own being ; and, in tliis matter, come not short of the higheist degree of certainty. CH.d.PTER X. OF OUR KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 1. We mre cwpahle of knowing certainly that there is a God. — Though Gkid has given us no innate ideas of himself; , though he has stamped no original characters on our minds, wherein we may read his being ; yet having furnished us with those faculties our minds are endowed with, he hath not left himself without witness : since we have sense, per- ception, and reason, and cannot want a clear proof of him, as long as we carry ourselves about us. Nor can we justly complain of our ignorance in this great point, since he has so plentifully provided us with the means to discover and know him, so far as is necessary to the end of our being, and the great concernment of our happiness. But though this bo 230 OF HUMAN rrSDERSTANDING. [boOK IV, the most obvious truth that reason discovers, and thougi its evidence be (if I mistake not) equal to mathematical cer- tainty ; yet it requires thought and attention, and the mind must apply itself to a regular deduction of it from some part of our intuitive knowledge, or else we shall be as uncertain and ignorant of this as of other propositions, which are in themselves capable of clear demonstration. To show, there- fore, that we are capable of knowing, i. e., being certain that there is a God, and how we may come by this certainty, I think we need go no further than ourselves, and that un- doubted knowledge we have of our own existence. 2. Man knows that he hvmsdf is. — I think it is beyond question, that man has a clear idea of his own being; he knows certainly he exists, and that he is something. He that can doubt whether he be anything or no, I speak not to; no more than I would argue with piire nothing, or endea- vour to convince nonentity that it were something. If any one pretends to be so sceptical as to deny his own existence, (for really to doubt of it is manifestly impossible,) let him for me enjoy his beloved happiness of being nothing, until hunger or some other pain convince him of the contrary. This, then, I think I may take for a truth, which every one's certain knowledge assures him of, beyond the liberty of doubting, viz., that he is something that actually exists. 3. He knows also that Nothing cannot produce a Being, therefore Something eternal. — In the next place, man knows by an intuitive certainty, that bare nothing can no more produce any real being, than it can be equal to two right angles. If a man knows not that nonentity, or the absence of all being, cannot be equal to two right angles, it is impos- sible he should know any demonstration in Euclid. If; therefore, we know there is some real being, and that nonen- tity cannot produce any real being, it is an evident demon- stration, that from eternity there has been something ; sinc6 what was not from eternity had a beginning; and what had a beginning must be produced by something else. 4. That eternal Being must he most powerful. — Kext, it is evident, that what had its being and beginning from another, must also have all that which is in and belongs to its being from another too. All the powers it has must be owing to and received from the same source. This eternal source, tbeu, GHA.V X.1 KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOIt 23'1 oi all being, must also be the source and original of all power j and so tbis etem?.! being must be also the most powerful. 5. And most knmving. — Again, a man fiuds in himself per- ception and knowledge. We have then got one step fur- ther; and we are certain now that there is not only some being, but some knowing, intelligent being in the world. There was a time, then, when there was no knowing being, and when knowledge began to be ; or else there has been also a knowing being from eternity. If it be said, there was a time when no being had any knowledge, when that eternal being was void of all understanding ; I reply, that, then it was impossible there should ever have been any knowledge; it being as impossible that things wholly void of knowledge, and operating blindly, and without any perception, should produce a knowing being, as it is impossible that a triangle should make itself three angles bigger than two right ones. For it is as repugnant to the idea of senseless matter, that it should put into itself sense, perception, and knowledge, as it is repugnant to the idea of a triangle, that it should put into itself greater angles than two right ones. 6. And therefore God. — Thus, from the consideration of ourselves, and what we infallibly find in our own constitu- tions, our reason leads us to the knowledge of this certain ' and evident truth, that there is an eternal, most powerful, and most knowing being, which whether any one will please to call God, it matters not ; the thing is evident, and from this idea duly considered, will easily be deduced all those other attributes, which we ought to ascribe to this eternal being. If, nevertheless, any one should be found so sense- lessly arrogant, as to suppose man alone knowing and wise, but yet the product of mere ignorance and chance; and that aU the rest of the universe acted only by that blind haphazard ; I shall leave with him that very rational and emphatical rebuke of TuUy, (1. ii. De Leg.) to be considered at his leisure : " What can be more sillily arrogant and misbecoming, than for a man to think that he has a mind and understanding in him, but yet in all the universe beside there is no such thing ? Or that those things, which with the utmost stretch of his reason he can scarce comprehend, should be moved and managed without any reason at allf" " Quid est enim Terius, quam neminem esse, opoi-tere tarn stulte arrogantem, 232 OF HUMAN undebstaNdino. [book IV ut m se mentem et rationem putet inesse, in coelo mundoque noil putet 1 Aut ea quae vix summa ingenii rations compre- hendat, nulla ratione moveri putet 1 " From what has been said, it is plain to me we have a more certain knowledge of the existence of a God, than of any- thing our senses have not immediately discovered to us. Nay, I presume I may say, that we more certainly know that there is a God, than that there is anything else without us. When I say we know, I mean there is such a knowledge within our reach which we cannot miss, if we will but apply our minds to that, as we do to several other inquiries.* 7. Owr idea of a most perfect Being, not the sole Proof of a God. — How far the idea of a most perfect being, which a man may frame in his mind, does or does not prove the existence of a God, I will not here examine. For in the different make of men's tempers and application of their thoughts, some arguments prevail more on one, and some on another, for the confirmation of the same truth. But yet, I think, this 1 may say, that it is an ill way of establishing this * Nor is there need of very great application, since there appears io reality to be no nation upon the surface of the earth which has not ren- dered itself master of this knowledge. Travellers, T know, have some- times fonned a different opinion ; but their rash, hasty, and almost ran- dom conclusions, are, in matters of this kind, worthy of little credit. Thus we find Le Vaillant, a writer of great talent and curious observar tion, contradicting himself flatly upon this point ; first affirming that the Kabobiquois are the only African nation known to him, who believed in the existence of a God ; whereas he, in another place, relates that the Caffres not only believed in God, but in the immortality of the sou). "De toutes les nations Afrioaines, calle-ci (des Kabobiquois) est laseule chez laquelle j'aie trouv^ quelque ide^ confuse d'un Dieu. J'ignore si c'est h, ses seules rfflexions ou k ces communications aveo d'autres peuples, qu'elle doit cette connaissance sublime, qui seule la rapproehe- rait des nations polioses, mais elle croit (autant que j'ai pu m'en assurer par mes gens) qu'au dessous des aatres il existe un ^tre puissant leqflfel a fait et gouverne toutes choses. Au reste, je dois k la v^rit^ d'ajouter ici que ce n'est Ik pour elle qu'une id^e vague, sterile et sans suite ; qu'elle ne soupgonne ne 1' existence de I'ame ni par consequent les peines et les recompenses d'une autre vie." (1. viii. p. 95 et seq.) When writing this, however, he had clearly forgotten what he elsewhere says of the Caffres : — " Ces peuples ont une trfes-haute idde de I'auteur des Stres et de sa puissance ; ils croient k une autre vie, k la punition des mdchans, h, la recompense des bons, mais ils n'ont point d'id^e de la creation ; ile pensentque le monde a toujours exists, qu'il sera toujours ce qu'il est." ;L. i». p. 40.) CHAP.X.J KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. 233 truth, and silencing atheists, to lay the whole stress of so im- portant a point as this upon that sole foundation ; and take some men's having that idea of God in their minds, (for it is evident some men have none, and some worse than none, and the most very different,) for the only proof of a Deity : and out of an over fondness of that darling invention, cashier, or at least endeavour to invalidate all other arguments, and forbid us to hearken to those proofs, as being weak or falla- cious, which our own existence and the sensible parts of the universe offer so clearly and cogently to our thoughts, that I deem it impossible for a considering man to withstand them. For I judge it as certain and clear a truth as can anywhere be delivered, that the invisible things of God are clearly seen from the creation of the world, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. Though our own being furnishes us, as I have shown, with an evident and incontestible proof of a Deity ; and I believe nobody can avoid the cogency of it, who will but as carefully attend to it, as to any other demonstration of so many parts : yet this being so fundamental a truth, and of that conse- quence, that all religion and genuine morality depend thereon, I doubt not but I shall be forgiven by my reader if I go ovei" some parts of this argument again, and enlarge a little more upon them. 8. Smr>£ihing from Eternity. — There is no truth more evi- dent than that something must be from eternity. I never yet heard of any one so unreasonable, or that could suppose so manifest a contradiction, as a time wherein there was per- fectly nothing ; this being of all absurdities the greatest, to imagine that pure nothing, the perfect negation and absence of aU beings, should ever produce any real existence.* * The nature of the arguraents by which Hobbea conceived the exist- ence of a Deity to be proved, though briefly delivered, and perhaps somewhat imperfectly stated, are yet upon the whole similar to those now put forward by Locke. " Forasmuch, " he says, " as God Almighty is incomprehensible, it foUoweth, that we can have no conception or image of the Deity : and, consequently, all his attributes signify our ina- bility and defect of power to conceive anything concerning his nature, and not any conception of the same, excepting only this, that there is a God. For the effects we acknowledge naturally, do exclude a power o* their producing, before they were produced; and that power preauppoeetli aomething existent that hath such a power : and the thing so existing with power to produce, if it were not etem.al, must needs have been pr> 234 OP HUMAH trifDBRSTANDING. [bOOK IV.' It being, then, mavoidable for all rational creatures ti> conclude, that something has existed from eternity ; let us next see what kind of thing that must be. duoed by somewhat before it, and that again by something else before that, till we come to an eternal (that is to say the first) Power of aL powers, and first Cause of all causes : and this it is which all men con- ceive by the name of G-od, implying eternity, incomprehensibility, and omnipotency. And thug all that will consider may know that God is, though not what he is : even a man bom blind, though it be not pos- sible for him to have any imagination what kind of thing fire is, yet hei cannot but know that something there is that men call fire, because it warmeth him." (Hum. Nat. c. xi. § 2.) The ancient Egyptians sought to express their opinion of the vmsearchable nature of God by an extra- ordinary hieroglyphic : — "A lion wiping out with his tail the impressions his feet had made on the sand, was the emblem of the Demiourgos, oi' supreme architect, covering over the marks of his divinity by the woiia of nature, and hiding his immediate power by the visible agony of inferior beings." (Galtruohio.) It has nevertheless been doubted whether the Egyptians believsd in one supreme God ; and many distinguished scholars are found ranged on both sides of the question. The writers of greatest authority, however, are of opinion that originally the Egyptians, like the Hindoos, believed in the existence of one supreme divinity, from which pure faith they lapsed by degrees into Polytheism and idolatry. Their Phtha is sometimes supposed to be the Hephaistos of the Greeks ; that is. the subtile fire which pervades the universe. (Jablonski. Pauth. Egypt, t. i. pp. 30 — 49.) Like the Chinese, (La Croye. Thes Epist. 1. iii. p. 194,) the ancient Egyptians have by certain writers been suspected of Atheism, a charge opposed by the pious and learned Cudworth, who conceives, that, under the name of Nox, they worshipped the invisible God. Jablonski, though he cannot see any foundation for this opinion, contends that the Egyptians — that is, the philosophical part of the nation, were not polytheiets. (L. I. c. i. p. 2.) With a pardonable partiality he regards Egypt as the inventress of theology, and all the other sciences, (ib. et. Proleg. p. 4.) They had, according to his views, elevated their minds to a clear idea of God ; but proceeding to the polytneistic period, he places Athor, or Aphrodite, at the head of all their div'mities, as the Brahmins do Bhavani. (2. ) The grammarian Orion, cited by the author of the Etymologicum Magnum, observes, that Athys was, among the Egyptians, the name of a month, and that they denominated Venus, Athor. (in voce, 'A9ip) Hezychius corroborates the testimony of Orion, adding, that the name Athor was likewise applied to the cow ; but this is not to be understood of the animal, but of the symbolical cow, by which Athor was represented. (Jab. i. 4.) It may be noticed en passant, that the word is always written Athor in the books of the Copts. (Hezych. in V. Orion in Etym. Magn. ut sup.) But Jablonski maintains that this goddess and the Grecian Aphrodite were greatly dissimilar, and that in many respects she rather resembles Hera, or Venus Urania. (6.) Hero- dotus, however, observes that Hera was unknown to the Egyptians. (I* zi. c. 50.) Some oi the weients confounded the goddesH witli the mooik CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCE OP A GOD. 235 9. Two Sorts of Beings, cogitative amd incogitative. — There are but two sorts of beings in the world that man knows or conceives. First, such as are purely material, without sense, percep* (Seld. de Diss. Syria. Synt. II. c. iL W. et Voss. de Idolol. 1. xi. o. 21, 22.) Others, again, suppose her to hare been the planet Venua, so highly venerated by the Arabs. (Jabl. i. 7.) But in reality the Orientals meant nothing by the name, but the plastic power of nature, (Plut. vit. Crassi. Jab. 8.) — the mother of gods and men. (Apul. Met. 1. ix. ; Ovid. Vast. IV. 99. et seq.) Jablonski himself thinks the word Athor is synony- mous V'th Nox, Night, (1. 10,) which was also one of the deities of the Phoenicians. (Euseb. Praep. Evan. 1. 1, c. 10.) There were in Greece, also, temples to Night, by Hesiod called the mother of the Gods. (Theog. V. 123, conf. Paus. on Abb. et Phcen.) Night, in fact, as suspected by Cudworth, was among the Egyptians accounted the first principle of all things. (Jab. 18, 19, conf. to 27.) According to Herodotus, (1. xL c. 46 and 145,) the eight great gods of the Egyptians were the four ele- ments, the sun, the moon, day, and night. They, however, degenerated by degrees into mere Pantheism. (Diog. Laert. Pr. vii. 10 :) and Jab-, lonski inquires whether one would not suppose that Spinoza had borrowed his system from the Egyptians ? " (1. 36.) The learned mythologist is of opinion, however, that the more ancient philosophers of Egypt believed" in one God, (p. 38,) who was called Phtha, (44,) and included both the sexes. This is identical, or perfectly agrees with the doctrine of the Brahmins, (p. 47,) yet the worship of tMs god, like that of Brahma in India, gi-aduaily died away, and he honoured but one temple, which was in Memphis. (52.) The soUtary fane in honour of the supreme God exists likewise in Hindustan. (Todd. AnnaL of Bojart, I. p. 774.) The primi- tive conception which the Hindus had Iramed of the divinity, we may collect from a sublime hymn in the Lajus-Veda, " in which a yearning to inculcate the unity of God is clearly distinguishable, in the midst of ideasof a pantheistical tendency." (Hindoos. I. p. 146.) "Fire is that original cause ; the sim is thatj so is air ; so is the moon ; such, too, is that pure Brahmin, and those waters, and that lord of creatures. Mo- ments, and other measures of time, proceeded from the effulgent person, whom none can apprehend as an object of perception, above, around, or in the midst. Of him whose glory is so great there is no image ; he it is who is celebrated in various holy strains. Even he is the G«d, who pervades all regions ; he is the &^bom ; it is he who is in the womb ; he who is born ; and he who will be produced : he severally and univer- sally remains with all persons. He, prior to whom nothing was bom, and who became all things ; himself the lord of creatures with a body composed of sixteen members, being delighted by creation, produced the three luminaries, the sun, the moon, and fire. To what God should we offer oblations, but to him who made the fluid sky and solid earth ; who fixed the solar orb and celestial abode : and who formed dropa of rain in the atmosphere? To what God should we offer oblit- tion, but to him whom heaven and earth mentally contemplate, while they are strengthened and embellished by offerings, and illuminated by the sun rising above them 1 The wise man views that myBterioug 236 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTAUDING. [BOOBI IV tion; or tliought, as the clippings of our beards, and parings of 01 IT nails. Secondly, sensible, thinking, perceiving beings, such as we find ourselves to be, which, if you please, we will hereafter call cogitative and incogitative beings ; which to our present purpose, if for nothing else, are perhaps better terms than material and immaterial. 10. Incogitative Beings cannot produce a cogitative. — If, then, there must be something eternal, let us see what sort of being it must be. And to that it is very obvious to reason, that it must necessarily be a cogitative being. For it is as impossible to conceive that ever bare incogitative matter should produce a thinking intelligent being, as that nothing should of itself produce matter. Let us suppose any parcel of matter eternal — great or small — we shall find it, in itself, able to produce nothing. For example: let us sup- pose the matter of the next pebble we meet with eternal, closely united, and the parts firmly at rest together; 40''^°'"® were no other being in the world, must it not eternally re- main so — a dead inactive lump ] Is it possible to conceive it can add motion to itself — being purely matter — or produce anything? Matter, then, by its own strength, cannot pro- duce in itself so much as motion : the motion it has must also be from eternity, or else be produced, and added to matter by some other being more powerful than matter; matter, ;is is evident, having not power to produce motion in itself. But let us suppose motion eternal too : yet matter — incogitative matter and motion — whatever changes it might produce of figure and bulk, could never produce thought: knowledge will still be as far beyond the power of motion and matter to produce, as matter is beyond the power of nothing or nonentity to produce. And I appeal to every one's own thoughts, whether he cannot as easily conceive Being in whom the universe perpetually exists, resting on that sole sup- port. In him this world is absorbed ; from him it comes ; in creatures he is twined and wove with various forms of existence. Let the wise man who is conversant with the import of revelation, promptly celebrate that immortal Being, the mysteriously existing and various abode : he who knows its three states, (its creation, continuance, and destniction,) which are involved in mystery, is father of the father. That Brahma in whom thw gods attain immortality, while they abide in the third oi celestial region, is our venerable parent, and the Pi-ovidence which governs all warld*." (Asiatic Researches. VIII. pp. 431 — 433.)^Ed. CHAP. X.] KNOWLEDGE OF THE EXISTENCL' OP A GOD. 237 matter produced by nothing, as thought to be produced by pure matter, when, before, there was no such thing aa thought or an intelligent being existing? Divide matter into as many parts as you will, (which we are apt to imagine a sort of spiritualizing, or making a thinking thing of it,) vary the figure and motion of it as much as you please — a globe, cube, cone, prism, cylinder, - rNTJERSTAITDISO. (^BOOK IV. 5. II. Because an Idea from achtal SensatioTi, and another from, Memcyry, are veri/ dbtinct Perceptions. — Secondly, Be- cause sometimes I find, that I cannot avoid the having those ideas produced in my mind. Per though, -when my eyes are shut, or windo-svs fast, I can at pleasure i-ecal to my mind the ideas of light, or the sun, which former sensations had lodged in my memory; so I can at pleasure lay by that idea, and take into my view that of the smell of a rose, or taste of sugar. But, if I turn my eyes at noon towards the sim, I cannot avoid the ideas wliich the light or sim then produces in me. So that there is a manifest diflference be- tween the ideas laid up in my memory, (over which, if they were there only, I should have constantly the same power to dispose of them, and lay them by at pleasure,) and those which force themselves upon me, and I cannot avoid ha'\'ing. And therefore it must needs be some exterior cause, and the brisk acting of some objects without me, whose efficacy I cannot resist, that produces those ideas in my mind, whether I will or no. Besides, there is nobody who doth not per- ceive the difierence in himself between contemplating the sun, as he hath the idea of it in his memory, and actually looking upon it : of which two, his perception is so distinct, that few of his ideas are more distinguishable one from an- other. And therefore he hath certain knowledge, that they are not both memory, or the actions of his mind, and fancies only witliin him; but that actual seeing hath a cause without. 6. III. Pleasure or Pain which accmnpanies actual Sensa- tion, accompanies viot the returning of those Ideas irithout the external Objects. — Thirdly, Add to this, that many of those ideas are prodticed in us with pain, which afterwards we remember without the least offence. Thus, the pain of heat or cold, when the idea of it is revived in our minds, gives us no disturbance; which, when felt, w;is very troublesome, and is again, when actually repeated; which is occasioned by the disorder the external object causes in our bodies when applied to it. And we remember the pains of hunger, thirst, or the headache, without any pain at all ; which would either never distiu'b us, or else constantly do it, as often as we thought of it, were there nothing more but ideas floating in our mindsj au.i appearances entertaining our fancies, without tho CHAP. XI. J KNOWLEDGE OP EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS. 3l7 real existence of tilings affecting up, from abroad. The same may be said of pleasure, accompanyiug several actual sensa- tions: and though mathematical demonstrations depend not upon sense, yet the examining them by diagrams gives great credit to the evidence of our sight, and seems to give A a certainty approaching to that of demonstration itself For it would be very strange, that a man should allow it for an undeniable truth, that two angles of a figure, which he mea- sures by lines and angles of a diagram, should be bigger on« than the other, and yet doubt of the existence of those lines and angles, which by looking on he makes use of to measure that by. 7. IV. Our Senses assist one another's Testimony of the Existence of outward Things. — Fourthly, Our senses in many cases bear witness to the truth of each other's report, con- cerning the existence of sensible things without us. He that sees a fire, may, if he doubt whether it be anything more than a bare fancy, feel it too ; and be convinced, by putting his hand in it j which certainly could never be put into such exquisite pain by a bare idea or phantom, unless that the pain be a fancy too, which yet he cannot, when the burn is well, by raising the idea of it, bring upon himself again. Thus I see, whilst I write this, I can change the appear* ance of the paper, and by designing the letters tell before- hand what new idea it shall exhibit the very next moment, by barely drawing my pen over it : which will neither appear (let me fancy as much as I will) if my hands stand still ; or though I move my pen, if my eyes be shut : nor when those characters are once made on the paper, can I choose after- wards but see them as they are ; that is, have the ideas of such letters as I have made. Whence it is manifest, that they are not barely the sport and play of my own imagina- tion, when I find that the characters that were ni;ide at the pleasure of my own thoughts, do not obey them ; nor yet cease to be, whenever I shall fancy it; but continue to affect the senses constantly and regularly, according to the figures I made them. To which if we will add, that the sight of those shall, -from another man, draw such sounds as I beforc- liand design they shall stand for, there will be little reason left to doubt that those words I write do really exist \»ith out 2i8 OF HfllAS UXDEBSTAXDIXG. [bOOK IV me, when ther cause a long series of regular sounds to affect my ears, which could not be the effect of my imagina- tion, nor could my memory retain them in that order. S. This CerttUnti/ is as great os our Condition needs. — ^But vet. if after all this, any one wiU be so sceptical as to distmst his senses, and to affirm that all we see and hear, feel and taste, think and do, during our whole being, is but tie series and deluding appearances of a long dream, whereof there is no i-ealitv : and therefore wiU question the existence of all things, or our knowledge of anything ; I must desii-e him to consider, that, if aU be a dream, then he doth but dream that he makes the question, and so it is not much matter that a waking in an should answer him. But yet, if he pleases, he mav dream that I make bim this answer, that the certainty of things existing in rerum natura, ■when we have the tes- timonv of our senses for it, is not only as great as our frame can attain to, but as our condition needs. For otir faculties being suited not to the full extent of l>eing. nor to a perfect, clear, comprehensiTe knowledge of things jBree from all doubt and scruple : but to the preservation of us, in whom they are, and accommodated to the use of life, they serve to our purpose well enough, if they will but give us certain notice of those things, which are convenient or inconvenient to us. For he that sees a candle btiming. and hath experimented the force of its flame by putting his finger in it. will little doubt diat this is something existing without him, wliich does him harm, and puts him to great pain ; which is assurance enough when no man requiies greater eenaiuty to govern his actions by, than what is as cei-tain as his actions themselves. And if our dreamer pleases to try whether the glowing heat of a glass furnace be barely a wandering imagination in a drowsy man's fancy, by putting his hand into it, he may perhaps be wakened into a certainty greater than he could "wish, that it is something more than bare imagination; so that this evi- lence is as great as we can desire, being as certain to us as our pleasure or pain, i. e., happiness or misery; beyond which we have no concernment, either of knowins: or beinsr. Such an assurance of the existence of things "n"ithout us is sufiUcieat to dii-ect us in the attaining the good and avoiding the evil which is caused by them, which is the import and eoncem- meut we have of being made acquainted with them. CHAP. XI.] KNOWLEDGE OP EXISTENCE OK OTUEE THINGS. 249 2. But reobclhes no further than actual Sensation.-'— l.'o. fijio^ then, when our senses do actually convey into our under- standings any idea, we cannot but be mtisfied that there doth something at that time really exist without us, vvhich doth affect our senses, and by them give notice of itself to our apprehensive faculties, and actually produce that idea which we then perceive : and we cannot so far distrust their testimony, as to doubt that such collections of simple ideas as we have observed by our senses to be united together, do really exist together. But this knowledge extends as far as the present testimony of our senses, employed about particular objects that do then affect iliera, and no further. Eor if I saw such a collection of simjile ideas as is wont to be called man, existing together one minute since, and am now alone, I cannot be certain that the same man exists now, since there is no necessaiy connexion of his existence a minute since with his existence now; by a thousand ways he may cease to be,- since I had the testimony of my senses for his existence. And if I cannot be certain that the man I saw last to-day is now in being, I can less be certain that he is so who hath been longer removed from my senses, and I have not seen since yesterday, or since the last year ; and much less can I be certain of the existence of men that 1 never saw. And, therefore, though it be highly probable that millions of men do now exist, yet, whilst I am alone writing this, I have not that certainty of it which we strictly call knowledge ; though the great likelihood of it puts me past doubt, and it be rea- sonable for me to do several things upon the confidence that there are men (and men also of my acquaintance, with whom I have to do) now in the world : but this is but probability, ifot knowledge. 10. Folly to expect Demonstration in every tiling. — "Whereby yet wp maji observe how foolish and vain a thing it is for a man of a narrow knowledge, who having reason given him to judge of the different evidence and probability of things, and to be swayed accordingly ; how vain, I say, it is to expect de- monstration and certainty in things not capable of it ; and refuse assent to very rational propositions, and act contraiy to very plain and clear truths, because they cannot be made out so evident, as to surmount every the least (I will not sav reason, but) pretence of doubtmg. He that, in the ordinan" affairs of life, would admit of nothing but direct plain i* 250 OP HUMAN UITDERSTAirDIlfG. [bOOK IV. monstratioD, ■would be sure of nothing in this world, but of perishing quickly. The wholesomeness of his meat or drink would not give him reason to venture on it : and I would fain know what it is he coiild do upon such grounds, as are capable of no doubt, no objection. 11. Past Existence is known hy Memory. — ^As when our senses are notually employed about any object, we do know that it does exist ; so by our memory we may be assured, that heretofore things that affected our senses have existed. And thus we have knowledge of the past existence of several things, whereof our senses having informed us, our memories still retaia the ideas ; and of this we are past all doubt, so long as we remember well. But this knowledge also reaches no further than our senses have formerly assured us. Thus, seeing water at this instant, it is an unquestionable truth to me that water doth exist; and remembering that I saw it yesterday, it will also be always true, and as long as my memory retains it always an undoubted proposition to me, that water did exist the 10th of July, 1688, as it will also be equally true that a certain number of very fine colours did exist, which at the same time I saw upon a bubble of that water; but, being now quite out of the sight both of the water and bubbles too, it is no more certainly known to me that the water doth now exist, than that the bubbles or colours therein do so : it being no more necessary that water should exist to-day, because it existed yesterday, than that the colours or bubbles exist to-day, because they existed yesterday; though it be exceedingly much more probable, because water hath been observed to continue long in exist- ence, but bubbles, and the colours on them, quickly cease to be. 12. The Existence of Spirits n/)t hnowable. — ^What ideas we have of spirits, and how we come by them, I have already shown. But though we have those ideas in our minds, and know we have them there, the having the ideas of spirits does not make us know that any such things do exist with- out us, or that there are any finite spirits, or any other spiritual beings but the eternal God. We have ground from revelation, and several other reasons, to believe with as- surance that there are such creatures: but our senses not being able to discover them, we want the means of knowing their particular existences. For we can no more know that THAI XI.] KlfOWLEDGE OF EXISTENCE OF OTHER THINGS. 251 there are finite spirits really existing by the idea we have of such beings in our minds, than by the ideas any one has of fairies or centaurs, he can come to know that things answer- ing those ideas do really exist. And therefore concerning the existence of finite spirits, as well as several other things, we must content ourselves with the evidence of faith; but universal, certain propositions con- cerning this matter are beyond our reach. For however true it may be — v. g., that all the intelligent spirits that God ever created, do still exist : yet it can never make a part of our certain knowledge. These and the like propositions we* may assent to, as highly probable, but are not, I fear, in this state capable of knowing. We are not, then, to put others upon demonstrating, nor ourselves upon search of universal certainty in all those matters, wherein we are not capable of any other knowledge, but what our senses give us in this or that particular. 1 3. Partiadar Propositions concerning Eodstence are hnow- ahle. — By which it appears that there are two sorts of pro- positions. 1. There is one sort of propositions concerning the existence of anything answerable to such an idea : as having the idea of an elephant, phoenix, motion, or an angel, in my mind, the first and natural inquiry is, whether such a thing does anywhere exist? And this knowledge is only of particulars. No existence of anything without us, but only of God, can certainly be known further than our senses in- form us. 2. There is another sort of propositions, wherein is expressed the agreement or disagreement of our abstract ideas, and their dependence on one another.. Such propo- sitions may be universal and certain. So, having the idea of God and myself, of fear and obedience, I cannot but be sure that God is to be feared and obeyed by me : and this propo- sition will be certain, concerning man in general, if I have made an abstract idea of such a species, whereof I am one particular. But yet this proposition, how certain soever, that men ought to fear and obey God, proves not to me the existence of men in the world, but will be true of all such creatures, whenever they do exist : which certainty of such generaipropositions depends on the agreement or disagreo- nient~Ho be discovered in those abstract ideas. 14. And general Propositions concerninj abstract 252 or HUMAN UNDEUSTANUING. [bOOK IV In tlie former case, our knowledge is the consequence of the existence of things producing ideas in our minds by our senses: in the latter, knowledge is the consequent-o of the ideas (be they what they will) that are in our minds jjro- duoing there general certain propositions. Many of these are called reternse veritates, and all of them indeed are so ; not from being written all or any of them in the minds of all men, or that they were any of them propositions in anyone's mind, till he, having got the absti-aot ideas, joined or sepa- rated them by affirmation or negation. But wheresoever we can suppose such a creature as man is, endowed with such faculties, and thereby furnished with such ideas as we have, we must conclude, he must needs, when he applies his thoughts to the consideration of his ideas, know the truth of certain propositions that will arise from the agreement or disagree- ment which he will perceive in his own ideas. Such propo- sitions are therefore called eternal truths, not because they are eternal propositions actually formed, and antecedent to the understanding, that at any time makes them ; nor because they are imprinted on the mind from any patterns that ai-e anywhere out of the mind, and existed before; but because being once made about abstract ideas, so as to be true, they will, whenever they can be supposed to be made again at any time past or to come, by a mind having those ideas, always actually be true. For names being supposed to stand perpe- tually fur the same ideas, and the same ideas having immu- tably the same habitudes one to another; propositions con- cerning any abstract ideas that are once true must needs bo eternal verities. CHAPTER XII. OF THE IMPROVEBIENT OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 1. Knowledge is not from Maodms. — It having been, the common received opinion amongst men of letters, that maxims were the foundation of all knowledge; and that the sciences were each of them built vipon certain prascognita, from whence the understanding was to take its rise, and by which it was to conduct itself in its inquiries into the matters belonging to that science, the beaten road of the schools has been to lay down in the beginning one or mc re general proixjsitions CHAP Xn.] 13IPROVEMEST OF OUR KNOWLEDGE. 253 fts foiiadations whereon to build the knowledge that was to be had of that subject. These doctrines, thus laid down for foundations of any science, were called principles, as the be- ginnings from which we must set out, and look no further backwards in our inquiries, as we have already observed. 2. (Tlie Occasion of that Opinion.) — One thing which might probably give an occasion to this way of proceeding in other sciences, was (as I suppose) the good success it seemed to have in mathematics, wherein men, being observed to attain a great certainty of knowledge, these sciences came by pre-eminence to be called Ma9);/m two or three general maxims, laid down ill the beginning; but from the clear, distinct, complete ideas their thoughts were employed about, and the relation of equality and excess so clear between some of them, that they had an intuitive knowledge, and by that a way to discover it in others, and this without the help of those maxims. For I ask, IS it not possible for a young lad to know that his whole body is bigger than his little linger, but by virtue of this axiom, that the whole is bigger than a part ; nor be assured of it, till he has learned that maxim 1 Or cannot a country wench know that, having received a shilling from one thstt owes her three, and a shiUing also from another that owes her thi-ee, the remaining debts in each of their hands are equal? Cannot she know this, I say, unless she fetch the certainty of it from this maxim, that if you take equals from equals, the remainder vrill be equals, a maxim which possibly she never heard or thought of ? I desire any one to consider, from what has been elsewhere said, which is known first and clearest by most people, the particular in- stance, or the general rule; and which it is that gives life and birth to the other. These general rules are but the comparing our more general and abstract ideas, which are the workmanship of bhe mind, made, and names given tu 254 OF HUMAN UNDEBSTAITDING. [bOOK IT. tliem for the easier dispatch iu its reascnings, and drawing into comprehensive terms and short rules its various and multiplied observations. .But knowledge began in the mind, and was founded on particulars; though afterwards, jierhaps, no notice was taken thereof : it being natural for the mind (forward still to enlarge its knowledge) most attentively to lay up those genei-al notions, and make the proper use of them, which is to disburden the memoiy of the cumbersome load of particulars. I"or I desire it may be considered, what more certainty there is to a child, or any one, that his body, little finger, and all, is bigger than his little finger alone, after you have given to his body the name whole, and to his little finger the name pai-t, than he could have had before; or what new knowledge concerning his body can these two relative terms give him, which he coiild not have without themi Could he not know that his body was bigger than his little finger, if his language were yet so im- perfect, that he had no such relative terms as whole and part? I ask, farther, when he has got these names, how is he more certain that his body is a whole, and his little finger a part, than he was or might be certain before he learnt those terms, that his body was bigger than his little finger? Any one may as reasonably doubt or deny that his little finger is a part of his body, as that it is less than his body. And he that can doubt whether it be less, wiU as certainly doubt whether it be a paxt. So that the maxim, the whole is bigger than a part, can never be made use of to prove the little finger less than the body, but when it is useless, by being brought to convince one of a truth which he knows already. For he that does not certainly know that any parcel of matter, with another parcel of matter joined to it, is bigger than either of them alone, will never be able to know it by the help of these two re- lative terms, whole and part, make of them what maxim you pleajie. 4. Dangerous to build upon precarious Frinciples. — But be it in the mathematics as it wUl, whether it be clearer, that, taking an inch from a black line of two inches, and an inch from a red line of two inches, the remaining parts of the two lines will be equal, or that if you take equals from equals, the i-emainder will be equals; which, I say, of these CHAP. Xll.] IMPROVEMENT OF miOWLEDOE. 256 two is tte clearer and first known, I leave to any one to determine, it not being material to my present occasion. That which I have here to do, is to inquire, whether if it be the readiest way to knowledge to begin with general maxims, and build upon them, it be yet a safe way to take the principles, which are laid down in any other science as unquestionable truths; and so receive them without exami- nation, and adhere to them without suffering them to bo doubted of, because mathematicians have been so happy, or so fair, to use none but self-evident and undeniable. If this be so, I know not what may not pass for truth in morality, what may not be introduced and proved in natural phi- losophy. Let that principle of some of the philosophers, that all is matter, and that there is nothing else, be received for cer- tain and indubitable, and it will be easy to be seen by the writings of some that have revived it again in our days, what consequences it will lead us into.* Let any one, with Polemo, take the world; or with the Stoics, the sether, or the sun;t or with Anaximenes, the air, to be God; and what a divinity, religion, and worship must we needs have ! Nothing can be so dangerous as principles thus taken up without questioning or examination; especially if they be such as concern morality, which influence men's lives, and give a bias to all their actions. Who might not justly ex- pect another kind of life in Aristippus, who placed happiness in bodily pleasure; and in Antisthenes, who made virtue * See Lipsiua Physiolog. Stoic. L 1. Diss. "VII. Op. t. iv. p. 846. On the Divinity of the sun, see L ii. Diss. 13. "HXtoc,- 0£6f /isyiaToe Tuiv (car' 6vpav6v QeCJv, y Trdvreg tKOvaiv 6l ovpdvwi 6tolj ujaavti pamXel Kal tvvaary." (Trismegistus ap. Lips. ub. sup.) — Ed. + Anaximenes maintained, according to Diogenes Laertius, that the air and the infinite were the first principles of all things: — " Ouroj apxw arjpa tliri, Kai to airdpov." (L. II. c. 11, § 1.) Tennemann, therefore, is wrong, where he says, that, " instead of the indeterminate awHpov of the latter, (Anaximandros,) certain observations, though partial and limited, on the origin of things, and the nature of the soul, led him to regard the air {arip,) as the primitive element." (Hist, ol Phil. § 87.) Cicero, however, (De Nat. Deor. I. 10,) and Aristotle, (Met. I. 3,) omit to mention the to dirEipov. On the general opinions of Anaximenes, Menage refers to the notes of Oasaubon, Euseb. Prsep, Pvan. 1. i. 0. ult ; NemesiuB, c. v. ; and the Adversaries of Desederiua, Heraldus, L ii c. 12.— Ed. 256 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IV. sufficient to felicity? And he who, with Plato, shall place beatitude in the knowledge of God, will have his thoughts raised to other contemplations than those who look not be- yond this spot of earth, and those perishing things which are to be had in it. He that, with Archelaus,* shall lay it down as a principle, that right and wrong, honest and dis- honest, are defined only by laws, and not by nature, will have other measures of moral rectitude and pravity, than those who take it for granted that we are under obligations antecedent to all human constitutions. 0. This is no certain Way to Tniih. — If, therefore, those that pass for principles are not certain, (which we must have some way to know, that we may be able to distinguish them from those that ai-e doubtful,) but are only made so to us by our blind assent, we are liable to be misled by them ; and instead of being guided into truth, we shall, by principles, be only confirmed in mistake and error. 6. But to compare clear, complete Ideas, under steady Names. — But since the knowledge of the certainty of principles, as well as of all other truths, depends only upon the percep- tion we have of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas; ■fhe way to improve our knowledge is not, I am sure, blindly, and with an implicit faith, to receive and swallow principles ; but is, I think, to get and fix in our minds clear, distinct, and complete ideas, as far as they are to be had, and annex to ihem proper and constant names. And thus, perliaps, with- out any other principles, but barely considering those ideas, and by comparing them one with another, finding their agreement and disagreement, and their several relations and habitudes ; we shall get more true and clear knowledge by the conduct of this one rule, than by taking up principles, and thereby putting our minds into the disposal of others. 7. The true Method of advancing Knowledge is by con- sidering our abstract Ideas. — We must, therefore, if we will proceed as reason advises, adapt our methods of inquiry to the nature of the ideas we examine, and the truth we search after. General and certain truths are only founded in the habitiides and relations of abstract ideas. A sagacious and methodical application of oui- thoughts, for the finding out * On the opinions of Archelaus, see Uiog. Laert. II. 16. Tennemanik Hi*t. of Phi). § 107.— Ed. CHAP. xii.J iMPKOVKMEarr OF ovrsx KS-owtEDGE. 257 these relations, is tie only way to discover all that can be put -with truth and certainty concerning them into general propositions. By what steps we are to proceed in these, is to be learned in the schools of the mathematicians, who, from very plain and easy beginnings, by gentle degrees, and a continued chain of reasonings, proceed to the discovery and demonstration of truths, that appear at first sight be- yond human capacity. The art of finding proofs, and the admirable methods they have invented for the singling out and laying in order those intermediate ideas that demon- stratively show the equality or inequality of imapplioable quantities, is that which has carried them so far, and pro- duced such wonderful and unexpected discoveries; but whether something Kke this, in respect of other ideas, as well as those of magnitude, may not in time be found out, I will not determine. This, I think, I may say, thai if other ideas that are the real as well as nominal essences of their species, were pursued in the way familiar to mathemati- cians, they would carry our thoughts further, and with greater evidence and clearness than possibly we are apt to imagine. 8. jBp which Morality also may he made clearer. — This gave me the confidence to advance that conjecture, which r suggest, (chap, iii.) viz., that morality is capable of demon- stration as well as mathematics. For the ideas that ethics are conversant about, being all real essences, and such as I imagine have a discoverable connexion and agreement one with another; so far as we can find their habitudes and relations, so far we shall be possessed of certain, real, and general truths; and I doubt not, but if a right method were taken, a great part of morality might be made out with that clearness, that could leave, to a considering man, no more reason to doubt, than he could have to doubt of the truth of propositions in mathematics, which have been de- monstrated to him. 9. But Knowledge of Bodies is to he im,pre one that ex- amines before he assents, you must give him leave at his leisui'e to go over the account again, and, i-ccalLing what is out of his miud, examine all the particulars, to see on which side the advantage lies : and if he will not thiuk our arsju- ments of vreight enough to eng-age him anew in so much paius, it is but what we otten do ourselves in the like case; and we should take it amiss if othei's should prescribe to us what points we should study. And if he be one who tsikes his opinions upon tr\ist, how can we imagine that he should renounce those tenets which time and custom have so settled in his mind, that he thinks them self-evident, and of an un- questionable certainty ; or which he takes to be impivssions he has received from Grod himself, or from men sent b\' him? How can we expect, I say, that opinions thus settled should be given up to the arguments or avithority of a sti-aiis::er or adversary, especially if there be any suspicion of interest or design, as there never fails to be, where men find themselves ill treated! We should do well to commiserate our mutual ignorance, and endeavour to remove it in all the gentle and fair ways of information; and not instantly treat othei's ill, as obstinate and perverse, because they will not renounce their own, and revive our opinions, or at least those we would force upon them, when it is more than probable that we are no less obstinate in not embracing some of theirs. For where is the man that has incontestible evidence of the truth of all that he holds, or of the falsehood of all he con- demns; or can say that he has examined to the bottom all his own, or other mens opinions! The necessitv of believ- ing -n-ithout knowledge, nay often upon veiy slight grounds, in this fleeting state of action and blindness we are in, should make us more busy and careful to inform ourselves than constrain others. At least, those who have not thoroughly possible to be cured, (and tliey who attempted it, did like him who dapa his shoulder to the ground to stop an eai-tliquake, ) yet the incouvenieiK't's arising from it mi^ht possibly be cured, not by uniting their beliefs — that was to be despaired of — but by curing that which caused these mis- chiefs, and accidental inoonvenieixoes of thcii- diaaareeings." (Int. to Lib. ofi-roph. p. 2.)— Ed. CHAP. XVI.] . DEGREES OP ASSENT. 275 examined to the Lottom all their own tenets, must confess they are unfit to prescribe to others; and ai-e unreasonable in imposing that as truth on other men's belief, which they themselves have not searched into, nor weighed the argu- ments of probability, on which they should receive or reject it. Those who have fairly and truly examined, and ars thereby got past doubt in all the doctrines they profess and govern themselves by, would have a juster pretence to re- quire others to follow them : but these are so few in number, and find so little reason to be magisterial in their opioions, that nothing insolent and imperious is to be expected from them: and there is reason to think, that, if men were better instructed themselves, they would be less imposing on others. 5. ProbahUUy is other of Mailer of Fad or Speculation. — But to return to the grounds of assent, and the several de- grees of it, we are to take notice, that the propositions we receive upon inducements of probability are of two sorts ; either concerning some particular existence, or, as it is usually termed, matter of fact, which, falling under obser- vation, is capable of human testimony; or else concerning things, which, being beyond the discovery of our senses, ai-(^ not capable of any such testimony. 6. The concurrennt Hxperience of all other Men vjith ours, produces Assurance approaching to Knowledge. — Concerniug the first of these, viz., particular matter of fact. Eirst, Where any particular thing, consonant to the con- stant observation of ourselves and others in the like case, comes attested by the concurrent reports of all that mention it, we receive it as easily, and build as firmly upon it, as if it were certain knowledge; and we reason and act there- upon with as little doubt as if it were perfect demonstration. Thus, if all Englishmen who have occasion to mention it, should affirm that it froze in England the la-st winter, or that there were swallows seen there in the summer, I think a man could almost as little doubt of it as that seven and four are eleven. The first, therefore, and highest degree of probability, is, when the general consent of all men, in all ages, a& .tax as it can be known, cancurs with a man's con- stant and never-failing experience in like cases, to confii'iu the truth of any particular mattei of fact attested by iaif T 2 S7IS CH' HTVAX rx»Gisusiiix pex^es «f Iwdks, «ad tits i«gnl»r pmemdii^ uf <»«i^ and elects ift ti»e «»dittiufy «)«»* «f ttatare. Tlufe ^ws & Forvlai ««ur «wa »Bd Mltar men's ocH^teat «il«i»>-«[^«a Ins fo«»d ahn^ to be aft«r tit« ssniie manuier, ttcMfc ^ne "tntik nsisian «aiM^«dte%(»betiie«£&(A«ifs6»»fy«iitdi«siikr«9ii»e^ dMM^ Uiej oiMUft not vitkin tlie i«Mclt of •f«ar knoideds^ I1k«^ titiA fi)t« waunned a luiia. Hiad<» l«i»d fioid^ and dinged t)t« oakmr or eonsteki^ae^ in "vood or c1»i«m1; tiiat i«m sunk ia -vater, and sw^iu in qwk^sStner; tbe» and tlt« fil» pi«- positinus ahoai pM^^eakur &fel^ bdbog agrveaMe to our Mit- sSani espaneuoe, as olf^^i as vi» 1»,t« to do -nitli i^mss matl^is; and b^b^ gMteralty ^oke of (vliai m^itioBed l»j ditlmts) as tbu^ fiwmd «o)^laattf to be sos and tlMt«lim no% so uiudt as ^atroverted bv anjlmily, ^one ai« pmi past doabt that a v^tkHi affinuius any sw)^ t^ng to ba^re betn, or aitv p(«£catkMi tiiat it \rUl baq^pen a^tfak iu tti« saui» manxiM', fe Tory tra«. Ihet^ probaibilitMS i^ »» xt««ir to eectaiuty, tbstt tkej goT^tn oar tlmughts as a]teolntd{|', and infloeaee all oar acAious as fallf, as tiie motst evident d^non- s^tationj and in xrbat coiioa»s ve -«« make littkor no dtti&i«ne« between thwi and ci^itam koowtedgs. Oar beli^ tbtts gnmuded, nsee to assntsutce. pswf fittStm Omjiehttioi. — ^ocoudlr. Th* n«xt d^jirw of jw»- babilitj IS. -vrban I find by my o\m «xne«i»aii3e^ ;»ud tk» ao^Kiau^it of all others that m^itkvu i^ » udng to be &« tkn UMst part siv and that the parkieukr instaneift of it & at- tested by many and andctabted '«nttt«^i^ v. g„ htstony giTing v^ so^ an account of m^t JLii all a^v^ and my own exfumaete^ as &r as I had an <^portanitf to ob»H^ ca^nnius ^^^ ^^* mt^st men prdSsr tb»r ^Tato adrantogfe to the pnbtie: if aU historki^ that \mto i>l:' Ttbrnns, ^^ th»t Tiberius did »a^ it is extiemidf probabk. And in this «»$)», our a^»nt has a sufficient firandalion to laise itself to » d«gKo -which \r« ma^ call confidiaieQ. ;^ Fmr !Pesi^memgt k^ £it^. — ^I^JrJly. In things tlwtt l^^mw indiflferantly, as that a bird sho«tld fly this or tyu '^'^'^^ wU it shoidd t£attd«r ou » man% right or left hand, Ji«., Vb«« CllAP. XVI.] DEGREES OF ASSENT. 277 any particular matter of fact is vouched by the concurreui testimony of unsuspected witnesses, there our assfint is also auavoidable. Thus, that there is such a city in Italy aa Rome; that about one thousand seven hundred years ago, there lived in it a man, called Julius Caesar; that he was a general, and that he won a battle against another, called Pompey : this, though in the nature of the thing there be nothing for nor against it, yet being related by historians of credit, and contradicted by no one writer, a man cannot avoid believing it, and can as little doubt of it as he does of the being and actions of his own acquaintance, whereof he himself is a witness. 9. Experience and Testimonies clashing, infinitely vary the Degrees of Prohahility. — Thus far the matter goes easy enough. Probability iipon such grounds carries so much evidence with it, that it naturally determines the judgment, and leaves us as little liberty to believe or disbelieve, as a demonstration does, whether we will know, or be ignorant. The difficulty is, when testimonies contradict common experience, and the reports of history and witnesses clash with the ordinary course of nature or with one another; there it is, where dili- gence, attention, and exactness are required, to form a right judgment, and to proportion the assent to the different evi- dence and probability of the thing; which rises and falls, according as those two foundations ot credibility, viz., common observation in like cases, and particular testimonies in that particular instance, favour or contradict it. These are liable to so great variety of contrary observations, circumstances, reports, different qualifications, tempers, designs, oversights, &c., of the reporters, that it is impossible to reduce to precise ndes the various degrees wherein men give their assent. This only may be said in general, that as the arguments and proofs pro and con, upon due examination, nicely weighing every particular circumstance, shall to any one appear, upon the whole matter in a greater or less degree to preponderate on either side; so they are fitted to produce in the mind such different entertainments, as we call belief, conjecture, guess, doubt, wavering, distnist, disbelief, &c. 10. Traditional Testimonies, the furtMr removed tJie less tlieir Proof. — This is what concerns assent in matters wherein tostimony is made use of; couceraing wliich, I think, it may 278 OF HUMAN UNDERST ADDING. , BOOK IV, not be amiss to take notice of a rule observed in the law of England; which i», that though the attested copy of a record be good proof, yet the copy of a copy ever so well attested, and by ever so credible witnesses, will not be admitted as a proof in judicature. This ih so generally approved as reason- able, and suited to the wisdom and caution to be used in our inquiry after material truths, that I never yet heard of any one that blamed it. This practice, if it be allowable in the decisions of right and wrong, carries this observation along with it, viz., that any testimony, the further off it is from the original truth, the less force and proof it has. The being and existence of the thing itself, is what I call the original truth. A credible man vouching his knowledge of it is a good proof; but if another equally credible do witness it from his report, the testimony is weaker ; and a third that attests the hearsay of an hearsay is yet less considerable. So that in traditional truths, each remove weakens the force of the proof; and the more hands the tradition has suc- cessively passed through, the less strength and evidence does it receive from them. This I thought necessary to be taken notice of, because I find amongst some men the quite con- trary commonly practised, who look on opinions to gain force by growing older; and what a thousand years since would not to a rational man contemporary with the first voucher have appeared at all probable, is now urged as certain beyond all question, only because several have siuce from him said it one after another. Upon this ground propositions, evidently false or doubtful enough in their first beginning, come, by an inverted rule of probability, to pass for authentic truths ; and those which found or deserved little credit from the mouths of their first authors, are thought to grow venerable by age, and are urged as undeniable. 11. Yet History is of great Use. — I would not be thought here to lessen the credit and use of history; it is all the light we have in many cases, and we receive from it a great part of the useful truths we have, with a convincing evidence. I think nothing more valuable than the records of antiquity : I wish we had more of them, and more uncorrupted. But this truth itself forces me to say, that no probability can rise higher than its first original. What has no other evidence than the single testimony of one only witness must stand o» JHAP. XVI. 1 DEGREES OP ASSENT. 3(9 fall by his only testimony, whether good, bad, or indifferent; and though cited afterwards by hundreds of others, one after another, is so far from receiving any strength thereby, that it is only the weaker. Passion, interest, inadvertency, mistake of his meaning, and a thousand odd reasons, or capricios, men's minds are acted by, (impossible to be dis- covered,) may make one man quote another man's words or meaning wrong. He that has but ever so little examined the citations of writers, cannot doubt how little credit the quotations deserve, where the originals are wanting; and consequently how much less quotations of quotations can be relied on. This is certain, that what in one age was affirmed upon slight grounds, can never after come to be more valid in future ages by being often repeated. But the further still it is from the original, the less valid it is, and has always less force in the mouth or writing of him that last made use of it than in his from whom he received it. 12. In, Things which Sense cannot discover, Analogy is tlie great Rule of Prohahility. — The probabilities we have hitherto mentioned are only such as concern matter of fact, and such things as are capable of observation and testimony. There remains that other sort, concerning which men entertain opinions with variety of assent, though the things be such, that falling not 'onder the reach of our senses, they are not capable of testimony. Such are, 1. The existence, nature and operations of finite immaterial beings without us; as, spirits, angels, devils, ifec, or the existence of material beings which, either for their smallness in themselves, or remote- ness from us, our senses cannot take notice of; as, whether there be any plants, animals, and intelligent inhabitants in the planets and other mansions of the vast universe. 2. Concerning the manner of operation in most parts of the works of nature : wherein though we see the sensible effects, yet their causes are unknown, and we perceive not the ways and manner how they are produced. We see animals are generated, nourished, and move; the loadstone draws iron; and the parts of a candle, successively melting, turn intc flame, and give us both light and heat. These and the like effects wo see and know: but the causes that operate, and the mannei they are produced in, we can only guess and probably con- jecture, for these and the like, coming not within tha S80 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, scrutiny of human senses, cannot be examined by thorn, or be attested by anybody ; and therefore can appear more or less probable, only as they more or less agree to truth? that are established in our minds, and as they hold propcrtiozi to other parts of om- knowledge and observation. Analogy in these matters is the only help we have, and it is from that alone we draw all our grounds of probability. Thus, observing that the bare rubbing of two bodies violently one upon another, produces heat, and very often fire itself, we have reason to think, that what we call heat and fire con- sists in a violent agitation of the imperceptible minute parts of the burning matter ; observing likewise that the different refractions of pellucid bodies produce in our eyes the dif- ferent appearances of several colours; and also, that the different ranging and laying the superficial parts of several bodies, as of velvet, watered silk, &c., does the like, we think it probable that the colour and shining of bodies is in them nothing but the different arrangement and refraction of their minute and insensible parts. Thus, finding in all parts of the creation that fall under human observation, that there is a gradual connexion of one with another, without any great or discernible gaps between, in all that great variety of things we see in the world, which are so closely linked together, that, in the several ranks of beings, it is not easy to discover the bounds betwixt them; we have reason to be persuaded that, by such gentle steps, things ascend upwards in degrees of perfection. It is a hard matter to say where sensible and rational begin, and where insensible and irra- tional end : and who is there quick-sighted enough to de- termine precisely which is the lowest species of living things, and which the first of those which have no life? Things, as far as we can observe, lessen and augment, as the quantity does in a regular cone ; where, though there be a manifest odds betwixt the bigness of the diameter at a remote dis- tance, yet the difference between the upper and under, where they touch one another, is hardly discernible. The difference is exceeding great between some men and some animals; but if we will compare the understanding and abilities of some men and some brutes, we shall find so little difference, that it will be hard to say, that that of the man is either clearer or larger. Observing, I say, such gradual and gentla CHAP. XVI.] DEGREES OP ASSENT. 281 descents downwards in those parts of the creation that are beneath man, the rule of analogy may make it {Tobable, that it is so also in things above us and our observation ; and that there are several ranks of intelligent beings, excelling us in several degrees of perfection, ascending upwards towards the infinite perfection of the Creator, by gentle stej s and differences, that are every one at no great distance from the next to it. This sort of probability, which is the best con- duct of rational experiments, and the rise of hypothesis, has also its use and influence ; and a wary reasoning from ana- logy leads us often into the discovery of truths and useful productions, which would otherwise lie concealed. 13. One Case wliere contra/ry Experience lessens not the Testimony. — Though the common experience and the ordi- nary course of things have justly a mighty influence on the minds of men, to make them give or refuse credit to any- thing proposed to their belief; yet there is one case, wherein the strangeness of the fact lessens not the assent to a fair testimony given of it. For where such supernatural events are suitable to ends aimed at by him who has the power to change the course of nature, there, under such circumstances, they may be the fitter to procure belief, by how much the more they are beyond or contrary to ordinary observation. This is the proper case of miracles, which, well attested, do not only find credit themselves, but give it also to other truths, which need such confirmation.* 14. The ha/re Testitnony of Eevelaiion is tlie highest Cer- tainty. — Besides those we have hitherto mentioned, there is one sort of propositions that challenge the highest degree of our assent upon bare testimony, whether the thing pro- posed agree or disagree with common experience, and the ordinary course of things, or no. The reason whereof is, because the testimony is of such an one as cannot deceive nor be deceived, and that is of God himself This carries with it an assurance beyond doubt, evidence beyond exception. This is called by a peculiar name, revelation; and our assent to it, faith : which as ahsolutely determines our minds, and * In hifl discourse on the subject, Locke defines a miracle to be, " A sensible operation, which, being above the comprehension of the spec- tator, xni, in hia opinion, contrary to the established course of ivalur<^ is taken by him to be divine." (p. 275.) — En. 282 OF HUMAN TJNDEESTAUDINQ, [bOOK IV OS perfectly excludes all wavering, as our knowledge itself; and we may as well doubt of our own being, as we can whe- ther any revelation from God be true. So that faith is a settled and sure principle of assent and assurance, and leaves no manner of room for doubt or hesitation. Only we must be sure that it be a divine revelation, and that we understand it right : else we shall expose ourselves to all the extravagancy of enthusiasm, and all the error of wrong principles, if we have faith and assurance in what is not divine revelation. And therefore in those cases, our assent can be rationally no higher than the evidence of its being a revelation, and that this is the meaning of the expressions it is delivered in. If the evidence of its being a revelation, or that this is its true sense, be only on probable proofs; our assent can reach no higher than an assurance or diffi- dence, arising from the more or less apparent probability of the proofs. But of faith, and the precedency it ought to have before other arguments of persuasion, I shalj speak more hereafter; where I treat of it as it is ordinarily placed, in contradistinction to reason ; though in truth it be nothing else but an assent founded on the highest reason. CHAPTER XVII. OF REASON. 1. Va/rious Significations of the Word Reason. — The word leason in the English language has different significations; sometimes it is taken for true and clear principles; some- times for clear and fair deductions frona those principles; and sometimes for the cause, and particularly the final cause. But the consideration I shall have of it here is in a signifi- cation different from all these ; and that is, as it stands for a faculty in man, that faculty whereby man is supposed to be distinguished from beasts, and wherein it is evident he much surpasses them. 2. Wlterein Reasoning consists. — If general knowledge, as has been shown, consists in. a perception of the agreement or disagreement of our own ideas, and the knowledge of the existence of all things without us (except only of a God, whose existence every man may certainly know and demon- strate to himself from his own existence) be had only by out CUAP. XVII.] REASOIf. ' 283 senses, what room is there for the exercise of any other faculty, but outward sense and inward perception? What need is thei-e of reason? Very much: both for the enlarge- ment of our knowledge, and regulating our assent : for it hath to do both in knowledge and opinion, and is necessary and assisting to all our other intellectual faculties, and indeed contains two of them, viz., sagacity and illation. By the one, it finds out; and by the other, it so orders the inter- mediate ideas, as to discover what connexion there is in each link of the chain, whereby the extremes are held together] and thereby, as it were, to draw into view the truth sought for, which is 'that which we call illation or inference, and consists in nothing but the perception of the connexion there is between the ideas, in each step of the deduction, whereby the mind comes to see either the certain agreement or dis- agreement of any two ideas, as in demonstration, in which it arrives at knowledge; or their probable connexion, on which it gives or withholds its assent, as in opinion. Sense and intuition reach but a very little way. The greatest part of our knowledge depends upon deductions and intermediate ideas : and in those cases where we are fain to substitute assent instead of knowledge, and take propositions for true, without being certain they are so, we have need to find out, examine, and compare the grounds of their probability. In both these cases, the faculty which finds out the means, and rightly applies them to discover certainty in the one, and probability in the other, is that which we call reason. For as reason perceives the necessary and indubitable connexion of all the ideas or proofs one to another, in each step of any demonstration that produces knowledge; so it likewise per- ceives the pi-obable connexion of all the ideas or proofs one to another, in every step of a discourse, to which it will think assent due. This is the lowest degree of that which can be truly called reason. For where the mind does not perceive this probable connexion, where it does not discern whether there be any such connexion or no; there men"s opinions arc not the product of judgment, or the consequence of reastm, but the effects of chance and hazard, of a mind floating at all adventures, without choice and without direction. 3. Its four Pa/rls. — So that we may in reason consider these four degrees: the first and highest is the disijoveriiig- 284 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IT, and finding out of truths ; the second, the regular and metho- dical disposition of them, and laying them in a clear and fit order, to make their connexion and force be plainly and easily perceived; the third is the perceiving their connexion; and the fourth, a making a right conclusion. These several degrees may be observed in any mathematical demonstration ; it being one thing to perceive the connexion of each part, as the demonstration is made by another; another to perceive the dependence of the conclusion on all the parts ; a third, to make out a demonstration clearly and neatly one's self; and something different from all these, to have first found out these intermediate ideas or proofs by which it is made. 4. Syllogism not the great Instrwinent of Reason. — There ia one thing more which I shall desire to be considered concern- ing reason ; and that is, whether syllogism, as is generally thought, be the proper instrument of it, and the usefullest way of exercising this feculty. The causes I have to doubt are these : — First, Because syllogism serves our reason but in one only of the forementioned parts of it; and that is, to show the connexion of the proofs in any one instance, and no more; but in this it is of rfo great use, since the mind can perceive such connexion where it really is, as easily— nay, perhaps better— without it. If we will observe the actings of our own minds, we shall find that we reason best and clearest, when we only observe the connexion of the proof, without reducing our thoughts to any rule of syllogism. And therefore we may take notice, that there are many men that reason exceeding clear and rightly, wlio know not how to make a syllogism. He that will look into many parts of Asia and America, will find men reason there perhaps as acutely as himself, who yet never heard of a syllogism, nor can reduce any one argument to those forms: and I believe scarce any one makes syllo- gisms in reasoning within himself. Indeed syllogism is made use of on occasion to discover a fallacy hid in a rhe- torical flourish, or cunningly wrapt up in a smooth period; and, stripping an absurdity of the cover of wit and good language, show it in its naked deformity. But the weakness or fallacy of such a loose disooiu-se it shows, by the anifici&l form it is put into, only to tho&s who have thoroughly studied CHAP. TCm.] EEASOK. 285 mode and figure, and Lave so examined the raany ways that three propositions may be put together, as to know which of them does certainly conclude right, and which not, and upon what grounds it is that they do so. All who have so far considered syllogism, as to see the reason why in three pro- positions laid together in one form, the conclusion will be certainly right, but in another not certainly so, I grant are certain of the conclusion they draw from the premises in the allowed modes and figure.s. But they who have not so far looked into those forms, are not sure by virtue of syllogism, that the conclusion certainly follows from the premises; they only take it to be so by an implicit faith in their teachers and a confidence in those forms of argumentation ; but this is still but believing, not being certain. Now, if, of all man- kind those who can make syllogisms are extremely few in comparison of those who cannot ; and if, of those few who have been taught logic, there is but a very small number who do any more than believe that syllogisms, in the allowed modes and figures do conclude right, without knowing cer- tainly that they do so, if syllogisms must be taken for the only proper instrument of reason and means of knowledge, it will follow, that, before Aristotle, there was not one man that did or could know anything by reason ; and that, since the invention of syllogisms, there is not one of ten thousand that doth. But God has not been so sparing to men to make them barely two-legged creatures, and left it to Aristotle to make them rational, i. e., those few of them that he could get so to examine the grounds of syllogisms, as to see that, in above three score ways, that three propositions may be laid toge- ther, there are but about fourteen wherein one may be sure that the conclusion is right; and upon what grounds it is, that, in these few, the conclusion is certain, and in the other not. God has been more bountiful to mankind than so. He has given them a mind that can reason, without being instructed in methods of syllogizing : the understanding is not taught to reason by these rules ; it has a native faculty to perceive the coherence or incoherence of its ideas, and can range them right, without any such perplexing repetitions. I say not this any way to lessen Aristotle, whom 1 look on as one of the greatest men amongst the ancients ; whose 2?6 O? TTt-tftV TI^NTJKKSTAXDESG- [l»OK IV farge ■ne'srs. acnteness, and penetration of diij'agh i and sxreagti af jaJgmein:, few have eqnalled; and ^rho, in this ^eiy ia- vencioa of forms of aigamentation. wherein the conclnsiou mar be siiown ro be righrly inferred, did greiii: service asriiiiiT those who were nor ashamed to denv anything. And I reaiiily own, that all riglii: reasc>m"Tig may be ledaoji ro his forms of svUogism. Bar yet I think, without any dimi- nution to him, I may tmly say. that they are not the aafy nor the best way of reas" nioi:. for the leaning of tiiose into truth who are wilHncr to iiud it. and desire to make the best use thev mav of their reason, for the attainment of know- ledga And he himself it is plain, tbnnd out some iomis to be condusiTe. and otters not. nor by the form.s themsdye^ but by the oriiriiial way l'I knowledire. i e., by the visible agreement of ideas. Tell a country gentlewoman that the wind is south-west, and the weather lowering, and like to rain, and she wiU ^eily undei-sta-id it is not sai'e for her to gij abroad thin clad in such a day, after a fererj she cleady sees the probable connexion of all these, ttz., so.uth-west wind, and clouds, ram, wetting, ta k'r .j cold, relapse, and danger of death, without tying them tc-gether in those arti- ficial and ciiml-ersom^f fetters of several syllogisms, that clog and hinder the mind, whicii proceeds ftom one part to an- other quicker and clearer ndthont them ; and the probability which she easily perceives in tiiinzs thus in their native state would be quite lost, if this argument were managed learnedly and propossed in mode -and figure. For it very often confounds the connexion; and. I think, every one wi" perceive in mathematical demonstnttions, that the know- ledge gained thereby comes shortest and clearest without syliogisms. Inlerence is looked on as the sreat act of the rational facidty, and s«:> it is when it is rightly made ; but the mind, either very desirous to enlai-^e ics knowled^-e. or very apt to fevour the sentiments it has once imbibed, is verj- forward to make infeivnces. and therefore often makes too much hasten before it pierceives the connexion of the ideas that must Dold the extremes together. To infer, is nothing but by virtue of one proposition laid down aiS true, to draw in another as true. i. e., to see or sup- pose SQch a connexion of the two ideas of the inferred piopo* CHAP. XVII.] ■ REASON. 287 sitiou : V. g., let this be the proposition laid down, " Mer shall be punished in another world," and from thence be in- ferred this other, " Then men can determine themselves." The question now is, to know whether the mind has made this inference right or no; if it has made it by finding out the intermediate ideas, and taking a view of the connexion of them, placed in a due order, it has proceeded rationally, and made a right inference. If it has done it without such a view, it has not so much made an inference that will hold, or an inference of right reason, as shown a willingness to have it be, or be taken for such. But in neither case is it syllogism that discovered those ideas, or showed the con- nexion of them, for they must be both found out, and the connexion everywhere perceived, before they can rationally be made use of in syllogism; unless it can be said, that any idea, without considering what connexion it hath with the two other, whose agreement should be shown by it, will do well enough in a syllogism, and may be taken at a venture for the medius terminus, to prove any conclusion. But this nobody will .say, because it is by virtue of the perceived agreement of the intermediate idea with the extremes, that the extremes are concluded to agree; and therefore each intermediate idea must be such as in the whole chain hath a visible connexion with those two it has been placed between, or else thereby the conclusion cannot be inferred or drawn in : for wherever any link of the chain is loose and without connexion, there the whole strength of it is lost, and it hath no force to infer or draw in anything. In the instance above mentioned, what is it shows the force of the inference, and consequently the reasonableness of it, but a view of the connexion of all the intermediate ideas that draw in the conclusion or proposition inferred? v. g., "Men shall be punished;" ''God the punisher;" "Just punishment;"' "The punished guilty;" " Could have done otherwise;" " Freedom;" "Self-determination;" by which chain of ideas thus visibly linked together in train, i.e., each intermediate idea agreeing on each side with those two it is immediately placed between, the ideas of men and self-determination appear to be con- nected, i. e., this proposition men can determine themseJres is drawn in or inferred from this, that they shaU be punished in the other world. For here the mind seeing the connexion 288 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. fBOOK IV there is between the idea of men's punishment in the othe' world and the idea of God punishing ; between God punish- ing and the justice of the punishment; between justice of the punishment and guilt ; between guilt and a power to do otherwise; between a power to do otherwise and freedom; and between freedom and self-determination, sees the con- nexion between men and self-determination. Now I ask, whether the connexion of the extremes be not more clearly seen in this simple and natural disposition, than in'the perplexed repetitions, and jumble of five or six syllo- gisms.* I must beg pardon for calling it jumble, till some- body shall put these ideas into so many syllogisms, and then say that they are less jumbled, and their connexion more visible, when they are transposed and repeated, and spun out to a greater length in artificial forms, than in that short and natural plain order they are laid down in here, wherein everyone may see it, and wherein they must be seen before they can be put into a train of syllogisms. For the natviral order of the connecting ideas must direct the order of the syllogisms, and a man must see the connexion of each inter- mediate idea with those that it connects, before he can with reason make use of it in a syllogism. And when all those syllogisms are made, neither those that are nor those that are * In my appendix to the Reasonableness of Christianity, I have on this subject made the following remark: — "Between the publication of the several editions of the "Essay on the Human Understanding," which appeared during his lifetime, Locke changed his opinion on more than one point, and, like an honest and independent thinker, he was always careful to acknowledge this change. This, among other things, was the case with the use of syllogisms. For in Book IV. oh. 17, "I grant," says he, " that mood and figure is commonly made use of in such cases, (in the discovery of fallacies, ) as if the detection of the inco- herence of sach loose discourses were wholly owing to the syUogistical form ; and so I myself formerly thought, till upon a stricter examina- tion 1 now find, that laying the ir.iermediate ideas naked, in their due order, shows the incoherence of the argumentation better than syllo- gism." His opinions, however, on this point were fluctuating; for in his "Second Vindication," speaking of the fallacies and incoherence of his antagonist, he has these words: — "Nay, if he or anybody, in the 112 pages of his 'Socinianism Unmasked,' can find but ten arguments that will bear (Ae test of syllogisTn, the trite touclnstone of right arymng, I wiU grant that that treatise deserves all those commendations he has be- stowed upon it ; though it be made up more of his own panegyric tha>r a coufutation of me." (p. 239.) — Ed. CHAP. XVII.] RFASON. 289 Slit logicians will see the force of the argumentation, i. e., the connexion of the extremes, one jot the better. [For those that are not men of art, not knowing the true forms of syllo- gism, nor the reasons of them, cannot know whether they are made in right and conclusive modes and figures or no, and so are not at all helped by the forms they are put into ; though by them the natural order, wherein the mind couhl judge of their respective connexion, being disturbed, renders the illation much more uncertain than without them.] And as for the logicians themselves, they see the connexion cf each intermediate idea with those it stands between, (on which the force of the inference depends,) as well belore as after the syllogism is made, or else they do not see it at all. For a syllogism neither shows nor strengthens the connexiou of any two ideas immediately put together, but only by the connexion seen in them shows what connexion the extremes have one with another. But what connexion the inter- mediate has with either of the extremes in the syllogism, that no syllogism does or can show. That the mind only doth or can perceive as they stand there in that juxta-position only by its own view, to which the syllogistical form it happens to be in gives no help or light at all; it only shows that if the intermediate idea agrees with those it is on both sides immediately applied to; then those two remote ones, or, as they are called, extremes, do certainly agree, and therefore the immediate connexion of each idea to that which it is ajiplied to on each side, on which the force of the reasoning depends, is as well seen before as after the syllogism is made, or else he that makes the syllogism could never see it at all. This, as has been already observed, is seen only by the eye, or the perceptive faculty of the mind, taking a view of them laid together, in a, juxta-position; which view of any two it has equally, whenever they are laid together in any propo- sition, whether that proposition be placed as a major or a minor, in a syllogism or no. Of what use, then, are syllogisms'! I answei', their chief and main use is in the schools, where men are allowed with- out shame to deny the agi'eement of ideas that do mani- festly agi-ee; or out of the schools, to those who from thencw have learned without shame to deny the connexion of ideas, which even to. themsehfes is viftible. But to an ingenuous vcii. II. ir Silo OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. JBOOK IV, searcher after truth, who has no other aim but to find it, there is no need of any such form to force the allowing of the inference : the truth and reasonableness of it is better seen in ranging of the ideas in a simple and plain order; and hence it is that men, in their own inquiries after trath, never use syllogisms to convince themselves [or in teaching others to instruct willing learners.] Because, before they can put them into a syllogism, they must see the connexion that is between the intermediate idea and the two other ideas it is set between and applied to, to show their agreement; and when they see that, they see whether the inference be good or no, and so syllogism comes too late to settle it. For to mate use again of the former instance, I ask whether the mind, considering the idea of justice, placed as an inter- mediate idea between the panishment of men and the guilt of the punished, (and till it does so consider it, the mind cannot make use of it as a medius terminus,) does not as plainly see the force and strength of the inference as when it is formed into a syllogism. To show it in a very plain and easy example; let animal be the intermediate idea or medius terminus that the mind makes use of to show the connexion of homo and vivens; I ask whether the mind does not more readily and plainly see that connexion iu the simple and proper position of the connnecting idea in the middle? thus: Homo Animal Vivens, than in this perplexed one, — Animal "Vivens Homo Animal: which is the position these ideas have in a syllogism, to show the connexion between homo and vivens by the interven- tion of animal. Indeed syllogism is thought to be of necessary use, even to the lovers of truth, to show them the fallacies that are often concealed in florid, witty, or involved discourses. But that this is a mistake will appear, if we consider, that the reason why sometimes men who sincerely aim at truth are imposed upon by such loose, and, as they are called, rhetorical dis- courses, is, that their fancies being struck with some lively metaphorical rejiresentations, they neglect to observe, or do not easily perceive what are the true ideas upon which the CHAP. XVII. J REASON. 20 i inference depends Now, to show suoli men tlie weakuesa of such an argumentation, there needs no more but to strip it of the superfluous ideas, which, blended and confounded with those on which the inference dejiends, seem to show a connexion where there is none; or at least to hinder the discovery of the want of it ; and then to lay the naked ideas on which the force of the argumentation depends in their due order, in which position the mind, taking a view of tneui, sees what connexion they have, and so is able to judge of the inference without any need of a syllogism at all. I grant that mode and figure is commonly made use of in such cases, as if the detection of the incoherence of such loose discourses were wholly owing to the syllogistical form ; and so I myself formerly thought, till upon a stricter exam- ination I now find, that, laying the intermediate ideas naked in their due order, shows the incoherence of the argumentation better than syllogism; not only as subjecting each link of the chain to the immediate view of the mind in its proper place, whereby its connexion is best observed ; but also because syllogism shows the incoherence only to those (who are not one of ten thousand) who perfectly under- stand mode and figure, and the reason upon which those forms are established; whereas a due and orderly placing of the ideas upon which the inference is made, makes every one, whether logician or not logician, who understands the terms, and hath the faculty to perceive the agreement or disagreement of such ideas, (without which, in or out of syllogism, he cannot perceive the strength or weakness^ coherence or incoherence of the discourse) see the want of connexion in the argumentation, and the absurdity of the inference. And thtis I have known a man unskilful in syllogism, who at first hearing could perceive the weakness and incon- clusivoness of a long artificial and plausible discourse, where- with others better skilled in syllogism have been misled: and I believe there are few of my readers who do not know such. And indeed, if it were not so, the debates of most princes' councils, and the business of assemblies, would be iu danger to be mismanaged, since those who are relied upon, and have usually a great stroke in them, are not always such who have the good luck to be perfectly knowing in the u2 232 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. JBOOK IV. forms of syllogism, or expert ia mode and figure. And i£ syllogism were the only, or so much as the sui-est way to 'lotect the fallacies of artificial discourses; I do not think that all mankind, even princes in matters that concern their crowns and dignities, are so much in love with falsehood and mistake, that they would everj'where have neglected to bring syllogism into the debates of moment ; or thought it ridiculous so much as to ofier them in affairs of consequence^ a plain evidence to me, that men of parts and penetration, who were not idly to dispute at their ease, but were to act according to the result of their debates, and often pay for their mistakes with their heads or fortunes, found those scholastic forms were of little use to discover truth or fallacy, whilst both the one and the other might be shown, and better shown without them, to those who would not refuse to see what was visibly shown them. Secondly, Another reason that makes m.e doubt whether syllogism be the only proper instrument of reason in the discovery of truth, is, that of whatever use, mode, and figure, is j)retended to be in the laying open of fallacy, (which has been above considered,) those scholastic forms of discourse are not less liable to fallacies than the jilainer ways of argu- mentation ; and for this I appeal to common observation, which has always found these artificial methods of reasoning more adapted to catch and entangle the mind, than to instruct and inform the understanding. And hence it is that men, even when they are baffled and silenced in this scholastic way, are seldom or never convinced, and so brought over to the conquering side : they perhaps acknowledge their adversary to be the more skilful disputant, but rest nevertheless persuaded of the truth on their side, and go away worsted as thoy are, with the same opinion they brought with them, which they could not do if this way of argumentation carried light and conviction with it, and made men see where the truth lay; and therefore syllogism has been thought more proper for the attaining victory in dispute, than for the discovery or confirmation of truth in fair inquiries. And if it be certain, that fallacies can be couched in syllogism, as it cannot be denied; it must be Bomething else, and not syllogism, that must discover them. r have had experience how ready some men are, when all CHAP. VVII.j REASON. 293 the use whica they have been wont to ascribe to anything is not allowed, to cry out, that I am for laying it wholly iwidu. But to prevent such unjust and groundless imputations, I tell them, that I am not for taking away any helps to tlie understanding in the attainment of knowledge. And if men skilled in and used to syllogisms, find them assisting to their reason in the discovery of truth, I think they ought to make use of them. All that I aim at, is, that they should not ascribe more to these forms than belongs to them, and think that men have no use, or not so full an use of their reasoning faculties without them. Some eyes want spectacles to see things clearly and distinctly; but let not those that use them therefore say nobody can see clearly without them: those who do so will be thought in favour of art, (which, perhaps, they are beholden to,) a little too much t(i depress and discredit nature. Reason, by its own penetra- tion, where it is strong and exercised, usually sees quicker and clearer without syllogism. If vise of those spectacles ha"? so dimmed its sight, that it cannot without them see conse- quences or inconsequences in argumentation, I am not so unreasonable as to be against the using them. Every one knows what best fits his own sight ; but let him not thence conclude all in the dark, who use not just the same helps that he finds a need of.* ' 5. Sdps little in Demonstration, less in Probahiliiy. — But however it be in knowledge, I think I may truly say, it is of far less, or no use at all in probabilities. For the assent there being to be determined by the preponderancy, after due weighing of all the proofs, with all circumstances on both sides, nothing is so unfit to assist the mind in that as syllo- gism; which, running away with one assumed probability, or one topical argument, pursues that till it has led the mind quite out of sight of the thing under consideration ; and, forcing it upon some remote difficulty, holds it fast there, entangled, perhaps, as it were, manacled, in the chain of syllogisnis, without allowing it the liberty, much less aflFording it the helps, requisite to show on which side, all things considered, is the greater probability, * On the subject of syllogism, see the smaller "Logic" of Christian Wolf, u. vi. p. 7i, where it is perhaps treated of more satisfactorily than - by any other modera writer. — Ed. 294 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. 6. Serves not to increase our Knowledge, but fence with if. — But let it help us (as perhaps may be said) in convincing men of their errors and mistakes, (and yet I "would fain see the man chat was foi-oed out of his opinion by dint of syllo- gism,) yet still it fails our reason in that part, which, if not its highest perfection, is yet certainly its hardest task, and that which we most need its help in : and that is the finding out of proofs, and making new discoveries. The rules of syllogism serve not to furnish the mind with those inter- mediate ideas that may show the connexion of remote ones. This way of reasoning discovers no new proofs, but is the art of marshalling and ranging the old ones we have already. The forty-seventh proposition of the first book of Euclid is very true ; but the discovery of it, I think, not owing to any rules of common logic. A man knows first, and then he is able to prove syllogistically; so that syllogism comes after knowledge, and then a man has little or no need of it. But it is chiefly by the finding out those ideas that show the connexion of distant ones, that our stock of knowledge is increased, and that useful arts and sciences are advanced. Syllogism, at best, is but the art of fencing with the little knowledge we have, without making any addition to it ; and if a man should employ his reason all this way, he will not do much otherwise than he who, having got some iron out of the bowels of the earth, should have it beaten up all into swords, and put it into his servants' hands to fence with and bang one another. Had the King of Spain employed the hands of his people, and his Spanish iron so, he had brought to light but little of that treasure that lay so long hid in the entrails of America. And T am apt to think, that. he who shall employ all the force of his reason only in brandish- ing of syllogisms, will discover very little of that mass of knowledge which lies yet concealed in the secret recesses of nature, and which, I am apt to think, native rustic reason (as it formerly has done) is likelier to open a way to, and add to the common stock of mankind, rather than any scholastic proceeding by the strict rule of mode and figure. 7. Other Helps should be sought. — I doubt not, nevertheless, but there are ways to be found to assist our reason in this most useful part; and this the judicious Hooker encou- rages me to say, who in his Eccl. Pol. 1. i, § 6, speaks thus; CIIAP. XVir.] REASON. 2i)3 " If there might be added the right helps of true art and learning, (which helps, I must plainly confess, this age of the world, carrying the name of a learned age, doth neither much know nor generally regard,) there would undoubtedly be almost as much difference in maturity of judgment be- tween men therewith inured, and that which men now are, as between men that are now, and innocents." * I do not pretend to have found or discovered here any of those right helps of art, this great man of deep thought mentions; but this is plain, that syllogism, and the logic now in use, which were as well known in his days, can be none of those he means. It is sufficient for me, if by a discourse, perhaps something out of the way, I am sure, as to me, wholly new and unborrowed, I shall have given occasion to others to cast about for new discoveries, and to seek in their own thoughts for those right helps of art, which will scarce be found, I fear, by those who servilely confine themselves to the rules and dictates of others. For beaten tracks lead this sort of cattle, (as an observing Roman calls them,) whose thoughts reach only to imitation, " non quo eundum est, sed quo itur." But I can be bold to say, that this age is adorned with some men of that strength of judgment and largeness of comprehension, that, if they woidd employ their thoughts on this subject, could open new and undiscovered ways to the advancement of knowledge. 8. We reason about Partictdars. — Having here had an occasion to speak of syllogism in general, and the use of it in reasoning, and the improvement of our knowledge, it is fit, before I leave this subject, to take notice of one manifest mis- take in the ndes of syllogism, viz., that no syllogistical reason- ing can be right and conclusive, but what has at least one general proposition in it. As if we could not reason, and have knowledge about particulars; whereas, in truth, the matter rightly considered, the immediate object of all our reasoning and knowledge, is nothing but particulars. Every man's rea- soning and knowledge is only about the ideas existing in his own mind, which are truly, everyone of them, particular exist- * Plato lias a similar idea in speaking of Isocrates : — " ware oiSkv av ykvoiro ^aviiaarbv TrpoiovtiTiQ ttjq rjXiKiaQ ft iripi auTovQ re roi't; \6yovc, oIq vvv kirix^'pti, irXeov r/ iraioajv SievkyKot twv TTunro7 eiTpa^evuiv, XSytuv, tri rt d aurt^ fjir) cLTroxpyffca ravra, Ittl fiEitut Si Tie aiiTov Hyot opurj BuoreQa." (Phasdrus, 1. 1, p. 105 seq. Bekk.) — Ed Z9S or HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV. ences; and our knowledge and reason about other tilings, ia only as they correspond with those of our particular ideas. So that the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our particular ideas, is the whole and utmost of all our know- ledge. Universality is but accidental to it, and consists only in this, that the particular ideas about which it is, are such as more than one particular thing can correspond with and be represented by. But the perception of the agreement or disagreement of any two ideas, and consequently our know- ledge, is equally clear and certain, whether either, or both, or neither of those ideas, be capable of representing more real beings than one or no. One thing more I crave leave to offer about syllogism, before I leave it, viz., may one not upon just ground inquire whether the foi~m syllogism now has, is that which in reason it ought to have? Eor the medius terminus being to join the extremes, i. e., the intei-- mediate idea by its intervention, to show the agreement or diagreement of the two in question, would not the po.sition of the medius terminus be more natural, and show the agree- ment or disagreement of the extremes clearer and better, if it were placed in the middle between them? Which might be easily done by transposing the propositions, and making the medius terminus the predicate of the first, and the sub- ject of the second. As thus; " Omnis homo est animal. Omne animal est vivens. Ergo, omnis homo est vivens. " Omne corpus est extensum et solidum. Nullum ex- ten sum et solidum est pura extensio. Ergo, corpus non est pura extensio." I need not trouble my reader with instances in syllogisms whose conclusions are particular. The same reason holds for the same form in them, as well as in the general. 9. First, Reason fails us for Want of Ideas. — Reason, though it penetrates into the depths of the sea and earth, elevates our tlioughts as high as the stars, and leads us through the vast spaces and large rooms of this mighty fabric, yet it. comes far short of the real extent of even corporeal being; and there are many instances wherein it fails us : as, Krst, It perfectly fails us, where our ideas fail. — It neither does nor c^n extend itself further than they do; and there- fore, wherever we have no ideas, our reasoning stops, aoid wa CUA.P. XVII. J KEASOIf. 29 'i are at an end of our reckoning; and if at any time we reason about words which do not stand for any ideas, it is culy about those sounds, and nothing else. 10. Secondly, Because of obscure and imperfect Ideas. — II. Our reason is often puzzled and at a loss, because of the obscurity, confusion, or imperfection of the ideas it is em- ployed about; and there we are involved in difficulties and contradictions. Thus, not having any perfect idea of the least extension of matter, nor of infinity, we are at a loss about the divisibility of matter; but having perfect, clear, and distinct ideas of number, our reason meets with none of those inextricable difficulties in numbers, nor finds itself in- volved in any contradictions about them. Thus, we having but imperfect ideas of the operations of our minds, and of the beginning of motion, or thought, how the mind pro- duces either of them in us, and much imperfecter yet of the operation of God, run into gre-at difficulties about free created agents, which reason cannot well extricate itself out of. 11. Thirdly, For Want of Intermedial Ideas. — III. Our reason is often at a stand, because it perceives not those ideas, which could serve to show the certain or probable agreement or disagreement of any other two ideas; and in this some men's faculties far outgo others. Till algebra, that great instrument and instance of human sagacity, was discovered, men with amazement looked on several of the demonstrations of ancient niathematicians, and could scarce forbear to think the finding several of those proofs to be something more than human. 12. Fourthly, Because of wrong Principles. — IV. The mind, by proceeding upon false principles, is often engaged in absurdities and difficulties, brought into straits and cou- tradictions, without knowing how to free itself ; and in thrt,t case it is in vain to implore the help of reason, unless it be to discover the falsehood and reject the influence of thos>i wrong principles, ileason is so far from clearing the dif- ficulties which the building upon false foundations brings a man into, that if he will pursue it, it entangles him the more, and engages him deeper in perplexities. 13. Fifthly, Because of doiMful Terms. — V. As obscure and imperfect ideas often involve our reason, so, upon tht' 298 OF HUMAK UNDEllSTANDTNG. [bOOK IV. same gl-ound, do dubious words and uncertain signs often in discourses and arguings. when not -warily attended to, puzzle men's reason, and bring them to a nonplus. But these two latter are our fault, and not the fault of reason. But yet the consequences of them are nevertheless obvious; and the perplexities or errors they fill men's minds with are eveiy- where observable. 14. Our highest Degreee of Knowledge is intuitive, vnthout Reasoning. — Some of the ideas that are in the mind, are so there, that they can be by themselves immediately compared one with another ; and in these the mind is able to perceive that they agree or disagree as clearly as that it has them. Thus the mind perceives, that an arch of a circle is less than the whole circle, as clearly as it does the idea of a circle; and this, therefore, as has been said, I call intuitive know- ledge ; which is certain, beyond all doubt, and needs do probation, nor can have any, this being the highest of all human certainty. In this consists the evidence of all those maxims which nobody has any doubt about, but every man (does not, as is said, only assent to, but) knows to be true, as soon as ever they are proposed to his understanding. In the discovery of and assent to these truths, thei-e is no use of the discursive faculty, no need of reasoning, but they are known by a superior and higher degree of evidence. And such, if I may guess at things unknown, I am apt to think that angels have now, and the spirits of just men made perfect shall have in a future state, of thousands of things which now either wholly escape our apprehensions, or which our short-sighted reason having got some faint glimpse of, we, in the dark, grope after. 15. The next is Demonstraiion by Reasoning. — But though we have, here and there, a little of this clear light, some sparks of bright knowledge, yet the greatest part of our ideas are such, that we cannot discern their agreement or disagree- ment by an immediate comparing them. And in all these we have need of reasoning, and must, by discourse and in- ference, make our discoveries. Now of these there are two sorts, which I shall take the liberty to mention here again. first, Those whose agreement or disagreement, though it cannot be seen by an immediate putting them together, yet may be examined by the intervention of other ideas which CHAP. XYir.] KEA80N, 299 can be compared with them. In this case, when the agree- ment or disagreement of the intermediate idea, on both sides with those which we would compare, is plainly discerned, there it amounts to a demonstration, whereby knowledge is produced ; which, though it be certain, yet it is not so easy, nor altogether so clear as intuitive knowledge Because in that there is barely one simple intuition, wherein there is no room for any the least mistake or doubt ; the truth is seen all perfectly at once. In demonstration, it is true, there is intuition too, but not altogether at once ; for there must be a remembrance of the intuition of the agreement of the medium, or intermediate idea, with that we compared it with before, when we compare it with the other ; and where there be many mediums, there the danger of the mistake is the greater. For each agreement or disagreement of the ideas must be observed and seen in each step of the whole train, and retained in the memory, just as it is; and the mind m.ust be sure that no part of what is necessary to make up the demonstration is omitted or overlooked. This makes some demonstrations long and perplexed, and too hard for those who have not strength of parts distinctly to perceive, and exactly carry so many particulars orderly in their heads. And even those who are able to master such intricate specu- lations, are fain sometimes to go over them again, and there is need of more than one review before they can arrive at certainty. But yet where the mind clearly retains the in- tuition it had of the agreement of any idea with another, and that with a third, and that with a fovirth, &c., there the agreement of the first and the fourth is a demonstration, and produces certain knowledge, which may be called rational knowledge, as the other is intuitive. 16. To supply tits Narrowness of this, we have Nothing hut Judgment v/pon probable Measoning. — Secondly, There are other ideas, whose agreement or disagreement can no other- wise be judged of, but by the intervention of others which have not a certain agrjement with the extremes, but an usual or likely one: and in these it is that the judgment is properly exercised, which is the acquiescing of the mind, that any ideas do agree, by comparing them with such pro- bable mediums. This, though it never amounts to know- le'Jge, no, not to that which is the lowest degree of it; yei 300 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK IV, Bometimas the intermediate ideas tie the extremes so firmly together, and the probability is so clear and strong, that assent as necessarily follows it, as knowledge does demon- stration. The great excellency and use of the judgment is to observe right, and take a true estimate of the force and weight of each probability ; and then casting them up all right together, choose that side which has the overbalance. 17. Intuition, JJemonstrati-jn, Judgment. — Intuitive know- ledge is the perception of the certain agreement or disagree- ment of two ideas immediately compared together. Eational knowledge is the perception of the certain agree- ment or disagreement of any two ideas, by the intervention of one or more other ideas. Judgment is the thinking or taking two ideas to agree or disagree, by the intervention of one or more ideas, whose certain agreement or disagreement with them it does not perceive, but hath observed to be frequent and usual. 18. Consequences of Words, and Consequences of Ideas. — Though the deducing one proposition from another, or making inferences in words, be a great part of reason, and that which it is usually employed about ; yet the principal act of ratioci- nation is the finding the agreement or disagreement of two ideas one with another, by the intervention of a third. As a man, by a yard, finds two houses to be of the same length, which could not be brought together to measure their equality by juxta-position. Words have their consequences, as the signs of such ideas ; and things agree or disagree, as really they are; but we observe it only by our ideas. 19. Four Sorts of Argu/ments. — Before we quit this subject, it may be worth our while a little to reflect on four sorts of arguments, that men, in their reasonings with others, do ordi- narily make use of to prevail on their assent; or at least so to awe them as to silence their opposition. 1. Ad verecimdiam. — First, The first is to allege the opinions of men, whose parts, learning, eminency, power, or some other cause has gained a liame, and settled their reputa- tion in the common esteem with .some kind of authority. When men are established in any kind of dignity, it is thought a breach of modesty for others to derogate any way from it, and question the authority of men who are in pos- session of it, This is apt to be censured, as carrying with it- ^MkV. XVII.] REASON. 301 too much pride, when a mau does not readily yield to the determination of approved authors, which is wont to be ^ceived with respect and submission by othera; and it is looked upon as insolence for a man to set up and adhere to his own opinion against the current stream of antiquity; or to put it in the balance against that of some learned doctor, or otherwise approved writer. Whoever backs his tenets with such authorities, thinks he ought thereby to carry the cause, and is ready to style it impudence in any one who shall stand out against them. This I think may be called argumentum ad verecundiam. 20. II. Ad Ignorantiam. — Secondly, Another way that men ordinarily use to drive others, and force them to submit their judgments, and receive the opinion in debate, is to require the adversary to admit what they allege as a proof, or to assign a better. And this I call argumentum ad ig- norantiam. 21. III. Ad hominem. — Thirdly, A third way is to press a man with consequences drawn from his own principles or concessions. This is already known under the name of ar- gumentum ad hominem. 22. IV. Fourthly, Ad judicium. — The fourth is the using of proofs drawn from any of the foundations of knowledge or probability. This I call argumentum ad judicium. This alone, of aU the four, brings true instruction with it, and advances us in our way to knowledge. For, 1. It argues not another man's opinion to be right, because I, out of respect, or any other consideration but that of conviction, will not contradict him. 2. It proves not another man to be in the right way, nor that I ought to take the same with him, because I know not a better. 3. Nor does it follow that another' man is in the right way, because he has shown me that I am in the wrong. I may be modest, and there- fore not oppose another man's persuasion : I may be ignorant, and not be able to produce a better; I may be in an error, and another may show me that I am so. This may dispose me, perhaps, for the reception of truth, but helps me not to it; that must come from proofs and arguments, and light arising from the nature of things themselves, and not irom my shame-facedness, ignorance, or error. 23. Above, coiUrcm/, and according to Reason. — By whai 302 OF HUMAJf UNDERSTANDING. [bOOK. IV lias been before said of reason, we may be able to make some guess at the distinction of things, into those that are according to, above, and contrary to reason. 1. According to reason are such propositions whose truth we can discover by examiniag and tracing those ideas we have from sen- sation and reflection; and by natural deduction find to be true or probable. 2. Above reason are such propositions whose truth or probability we cannot by reason derive from those priaciples. 3. Contrary to reason are such proposi- tions as are inconsistent with or irreconcilable to our clear and distinct ideas. Thus the existence of one God is accord- ing to reason; the existence of more than one God, con- trary to reason ; the resurrection of the dead, above reason. Further, as above, reason may be taken in a double sense, viz., either as signifying above probability, or above certainty; so in that large sense also, contrary to reason, is, I suppose, sometimes taken. 24. Beason and Faith not opposite. — There is another use of the word reason, wherein it is opposed to faith; which, though it be in itself a very improper way of speaking, yet common use has so authorized it, that it would be folly either to oppose or hope to remedy it ; only I think it may not be amiss to take notice, that, however faith be opposed to reason, faith is nothing but a firm assent of the mind ; which, if it be regulated, as is our duty, cannot be afibrded to anything but upon good reason, and so cannot be opposite to it. He that believes without having any reason for believing, may be in love with his own fancies, but neither seeks truth as he ought, nor pays the obedience due to his Maker, who would have him use those discerning faculties he has given him, to keep him out of mistake and error. He that doed not this to the best of his power, however he sometimes lights on truth, is in the right but by chance; and I know not whether the luckiness of the accident will excuse the irregularity of his proceeding. This at least is certain, that he must be accountable for whatever mistakes he runs into; whereas he that makes use of the light and faculties God has given him, and seeks sincerely to discover truth by those helps and abilities he has, may have this satisfaction in doing his duty as a rational creature, that, though he should miss truth, he will not miss the reward of it; for he governs hia OHAl XVin.] FAITH AUD REASON. '}03 assent right, and places it as lie should, who, in any case oi matter whatsoever, believes or disbelieves according as I'eason directs him. He that doth otherwise, transgresses against his own light, and misuses those faculties which were given him to no other end, but to search and follow the clearer evidence and greater probability. But since reason and faith are hy some men opposed, we will so consider them in tl e following chapter. CHAPTEE XVIII. OF FAITH AND EEASON, AND THEIK DISTINCT PBOVINCES. 1. Necessa/ry to hnow their Boundaries. — It h'as been above shown, 1. That we are of necessity ignorant, and want knowledge of all sorts, where we want ideas. 2. That we are ignorant, and want rational knowledge, where we want proofs. 3 That we want certain knowledge and certainty, as far as we want clear and determined specific ideas. 4. That we want probability to direct our assent in mattei-s where we have neither knowledge of our own nor testimony of other men to bottom our reason upon. Prom these things thus premised, I think we may come to lay down the measures and boundaries between faith and reason; the want whereof may possibly have been the cause, if not of great disorders, yet at least of great disputes, anil perhaps mistakes in the world. For till it be resolved how far we are to be guided by reason, and how far by faith, we shall in vain dispute, and endeavour to convince one another in matters of religion. 2. Faith and Reason, what, as contradistinguished. — I find every sect, as far as reason will help them, make use of it gladly; and where it fails them, they cry out, It is matter of faith, and above reason. And I do not see how they cau argue with any one, or ever convince a gainsayer who makes use of the same plea, without setting down strict boundaries between faith and reason, which ought to be the first point established in all questions, where faith has anything to do. Reason, therefore, here, as contradistinguished to faith, 1 take to be the discovery of the certainty or probability o< 304 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. fflOOK IV such propositions or truths, which the mind arrives at by deduction made from such ideas, which it has got by the use of its natural faculties; viz., by sensation or reflection. ii'aith, on the other side, is the assent to anj proposition not thus made out by the deductions of reason, but upon the credit of the proposer, as coming from God, in some ex- traordinary way of communication. This way of discovering truths to men, we call revelation. 3. No tmw simple Idea can be conveyed hij traditional Reve- lation. — First, Then I say, that no man mspired by God can by any revelation commimicate to others any new simple ideas, which they had not before from sensation or reflection. For whatsoever impressions he himself may have from the immediate hand of God, this revelation, if it be of new simple ideas, cannot be conveyed to another, either by words or any other signs; because words, by their immediate operation on us, cause no other ideas but of their natural sounds; and it is by the custom of using them for signs, that they excite and revive in our minds latent ideas; but yet only such ideas as were there before. For words fieen or heard, recal to our thoughts those ideas only, which to us they have been wont to be signs of, but cannot introduce any perfectly new, and formerly unknown simple ideas. The same holds in all other signs, which cannot signify to us things of which we have before never had any idea at alL Thus, whatever things were discovered to St. Paul, when he was rapt up into the third heaven, whatever new ideas his mind there received, all the description he can make to others of that place, is only this, that there are such things, "as eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." And supposing God should discover to any one, supernaturally, a species of crea- tures inhabiting, for example, Jupiter or Saturn, (for that it is possible there may be such, nobody can deny,) which had six senses, and imprint on his mind the ideas conveyed to theirs by that sixth sense ; he could no more, by words, produce in the minds of other men those ideas imprinted by that sixth sense, than one of us could convey the idea of any colour by the suunds of words into a man, who, having the other four senses perfect, hiid always totallj"" wanted the fifth, of peeing. For our simple ideas, then, which are the foua' CMAP. rVIII.] FAITU AND REASON. 30/! dation and sole matter of all our notions and knowledge, ■wo must depend wholly on ova reason, I mean our natural faculties ; and can by no means receive them, or any of them, from traditional revelation ; I say, traditional revelation, in distinction to original revelation. By the one, I mean that first impression which is made immediately by God on the mind of any man, to which we cannot set any bounds ; and by the other, those impressions delivered over to others in words, and the ordinary ways of conveying our conceptions one to another. 4. Traditional Readation may malce us hwuo ProposiMons hnmoalile also hy Reason, but not with the samve Certainty that Reason doth. — Secondly, I say that the same truths may be discovered and conveyed down from revelation, which are discoverable to us by reason, and by those ideas we naturally may have. So God might by revelation discover the truth of any proposition in Euclid ; as well as men, by the natural use of their faculties, come to make the discovery themselves. In all things of this kind there is little need or use of reve- lation, God having furnished us with natural and surer means to arrive at the knowledge of them. For whatsoever truth we come to the clear discovery of, from the knowledge and contemplation of our own ideas, will always be certainer to us than those which are conveyed to us by traditional revela- tion. For the knowledge we have that this revelation came at first from God, can never be so sure as the knowledge we have from the clear and distinct perception of the agreement or disagreement of our own ideas ; v. g., if it were revealed some ages since, that the three angles of a triangle were equal to two right ones, I might assent to the truth of that propo- sition, upon the credit of the tradition, that it was revealed ; but that would never amount to so great a certainty as the knowledge of it, upon the comparing and measuring my own ideas of two right angles, and the three angles of a triangle. The like holds in matter of fact knowable by our senses ; V. g., the history of the deluge is conveyed to us by writings which had their original from revelation : and yet nobody, I think, will say he has as certain and clear a knowledge of the flood as Noah, that saw it ; or that, he himself would have had, had he then been alive and seen it. For he has no greater an assurance tha a that of his senses, '.hat it is wiit VOL. XL X 306 HUMAN UNDERSTANDING. [BOOK IT. in the book supposed writ by Moses inspired ; but he has not so great an assurance that Moses wrote that book as if he had seen Moses write it. So that the assurance of its being a revelation is less still than the assurance of his senses. 5. Revelation cannot he admitted against the clea/r Evidence of Reason. — In propo.sitions, then, whose certainty is built upon the clear perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, attained either by immediate intuition, as in self-evident propositions or by evident deductions of reason in demonstrations, we need not the assistance of revelation^ as necessary to gain our assent, and introduce them into our minds. Because the natural ways of knowledge could settle them there, or had done it already, which is the greatest assurance we can possibly have of anything, unless where God immediately reveals it to us ; and there too our assur- ance can be no greater than our knowledge is, that it is a revelation from God. But yet nothing, I think, can, under that title, shake or overrule plain knowledge, or rationally prevail with any man to admit it for true, in a direct con-> tradiction to the clear evidence of his own understanding. For since no evidence of oiu- faculties, by which we receive such revelations, can exceed, if equal, the certainty of our intuitive knowledge, we can never receive for a truth any- thing that is directly contrary to our clear and distinct know- ledge ; V. g., the ideas of one body and one place do so clearly agree, and the mind has so evident a perception of their agreement, that we can never assent to a proposition that affirms the same body to be in two distant places at once, however it should pretend to the authority of a divine reve- lation : since the evidence, first, that we deceive not our- selves, in ascribing it to God ; secondly, that we imderstand it right ; can never be so great as the evidence of our own intuitive knowledge, whereby we discern it impossible for the same body to be in two places at once. And therefore no proposition can be received for divine revelation, or obtain the assent due to all such, if it be contradictory to our clear intuitive knowledge. Because this would be to subvert the principles and foundations of all knowledge, evidence, and assent wliatsoever : and there would be left no difierence between truth and falsehood, no measures of credible and incredible in the world, if doubtful propositions shall take HHAP. XVIII.J FAITH AND REASON. 307 place before self-evident, and what we certainly know give way to what we may possibly be mistaken in. ' In proposi- tions, therefore, contrary to the clear perception of the agree- ment or disagreement of any of oiir ideas, it will be in vain to urge them as matters of faith : they cannot move our assent under that or any other title whatsoever ; for faith can never convince us of anything that contradicts our know- ledge. Because, though faith be founded on the testimony of God (who cannot lie) revealing any proposition to us ; yet we cannot have an assurance of the truth of its being a divine revelation greater than our own knowledge : since the whole strength of the certainty depends upon our knowledge that God revealed it, which, in this case, where the proposi- tion supposed revealed contradicts our knowledge or reason, will always have this objection hanging to it, viz., that we cannot tell how to conceive that to come from God, the bountiful Author of our being, which, if received for true, must overturn aU the principles and foundations of know- ledge he has given us ; render all our faculties useless ; wholly destroy the most excellent part of his workmanship, ovir understandings, and put a man in a condition wherein he will have less light, less conduct than the beast that perisheth. For if the mind of man can never have a clearer (and per- haps not so clear) evidence of anything to be a divine reve- lation, as it has of the principles of its own reason, it can never have a ground to quit the clear evidence of its reason, to give a place to a proposition, whose revelation has not a greater evidence than those principles have. 6. Traditional Revelation much less. — Thus far a man has use of reason, and ought to hearken to it, even in immediate and original revelation, where it is supposed to be made to himself : but to all those who pretend not to immediate reve lotion, but are required to pay obedience, and to receive th truths revealed to others, which, by the tradition of writings, or word of mouth, are conveyed down to them, reason has a great deal more to do, and is that only which can induce us to receive them. For matter of faith being only divine reve- lation, and nothing else, faith, as we use the word, (called commonly divine faith,) has to do with no propositions, but those which are supposed to be divinely revealed. So that I do not see how those who make revelation alone the sole z2 308 OP HUMAN ONDEESTANDING. [bOOK IT, object of faith can say, that it is a matter of faith, and not of reason, to believe that such or such a proposition, to be found in such or such a book, is of divine inspiration, unless it be revealed that that proposition, or all in that book, was communicated by divine inspiration. Without such a reve- lation, the believing or not believing that proposition or book to be of divine authority, can never be matter of faith, but matter of reason ; and such as I must come to an assent to only by the use of my reason, which can never require or enable me to believe that which is contrary to itself : it being impossible for reason ever to procure any assent to that which to itself appears unreasonable. In all things, therefore, where we have clear evidence from our ideas, and those principles of knowledge I have above mentioned, reason is the proper judge ; and revelation, though it may, in consenting with it, confirm its dictates, yet cannot in such cases invalidate its decrees : nor can we be obliged, where we have the clear and evident sentence of reason to quit it for the contrary opinion, under a pretence that it is matter of faith, which can have no authority against the plain and clear dictates of reason. 7. Things above Eeason. — ^But, Thirdly, There being many things wherein we have very imperfect notions, or none at all ; and other things, of whose past, present, or future exist- ence, by the natural use of onr faculties, we can have no knowledge at all ; these, as being beyond the discovery of our natural faculties, and above reason, are, when revealed, the proper matter of faith. Thus, that part of the angels rebelled against God, and thereby lost their first happy state ; and that the dead shall rise, and live again; these and the like, being beyond the discovery of reason, are purely matters of faith, with which reason has directly nothing to do. 8. Or not contrary to Season, if revealed, are Matter of Faith. — But since God, in giving us the light of reason, has not thereby tied up his own hands from affording us, when he thinks fit, the light of revelation in any of those matters wherein our natural faculties are able to give a probable determination ; revelation, where God has been pleased to give it, must carry it against the probable conjectures of reason. Because the mind not being certain of the truth of that it does not evidently know, but only yielding to the CHAP. Xtlll.] FAITH AND EEASOJI. 309 probability that appears in it, is bound to give up its assent to such a testiniLny; which, it is satisfied, comes from one who cannot err, and will not deceive. But yet it still be- longs to reason to judge of the truth of its being a revelation, and of the signification of the words wherein it is delivered. Indeed, if anything shall be thought revelation which is con- trary to the plain principles of reason, and the evident knowledge the mind has of its own clear and distinct ideas ; there reason must be hearkened to, as to a matter within its province: since a man can never have so certain a know- ledge, that a proposition which contradicts the clear prin- ciples and evidence of his own knowledge was divinely revealed, or that he understands the words rightly wherein it is delivered, as he has that the contrary is true : and so is bound to consider and judge of it as a matter of reason, and not swallow it, without examination, as a matter of faith. 9. Revelation in Mailers wluere Reason cannot judge., or but prohaibly, ought, to he hewrkemed to. — First, Whatever proposi- tion is revealed, of whose truth our mind, by its natural faculties and notions, cannot judge ; that is purely matter of fiiith, and above reason. Secondly, All propositions whereof the mind, by the use of /its natural faculties, can come to determine and judge,. ft)6m naturally acquired ideas, are matter of reason, with thia difference still, that, in those concerning which it has but an uncertain evidence, and so is persuaded of their truth only upon probable grounds, which still admit a possibility of the contrary to be true, without doing violence to the certain evidence of its own knowledge, and overturning the prin- ciples of all reason ; in such probable propositions, I say^ an evident revelation ought to determine our assent, eveu against probability. For where the principles of reason have not evidenced a propo.sition to be certainly true or false, there clear revelation, as another principle of truth and ground of assent, may determine ; and so it may be matter of faith, and be also above reason. Because reason, in that particular matter, being able to reach no higher than pro- bability, faith gave the determination where reason came short; and revelation discovered on which side the truth lay. 10. In Matters wliere Reason can afford certain KnotAiledge, that is to be hearkened to. — Thus fer the dominion of ikith 310 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTANDING. [BOOK IV. reaches, and that "without any violence or hindrance to reason, which is not injured or disturbed, but assisted and improved by new discoveries of truth, coining from the etei-nal fountain of all knowledge. Whatever God hath revealed is certainly true: no doubt can be made of it. This is the proper object of faith; but whether it be a divine revelation or no, reason must judge, which can never permit the mind to reject a greater evidence to embrace what is less evident, nor allow it to entertain probability in opposition to knowledge and certainty. There can be no evidence that any traditional revelation is of divine original, in the words we receive it, and in the sense we understand it, so clear and so certain as that of the principles oi' reason : and therefore nothing that is contrary to, and inconsistent with, the clear and self-evident dictates of reason, has a right to be urged or assented to as a matter of faith, wherein reason hath nothing to do. What soever is divine revelation, ought to overrule all our opinions, prejudices, and interest, and hath a right to be received with full assent. Such a submission as this, of our reason to faith, takes not away the landmarks of knowledge: this shakes not the foundations of reason, but leaves us that use of ovir faculties for which they were given us. 11. If the Boundaries be not set between Faith and JReasdn, no Enthusiasm or Extravagancy in Religion can he contra- dicted. — If the provinces of faith and reason are not kept distinct by these boundaries, there will, in matters of religion, be no room for reason at all; and those extravagant opinions and ceremonies that are to be found in the several religions of the world will not deserve to be blamed. For to, this crying up of faith in opposition to reason, we may, I think, in good measure ascribe those absurdities that fill almost all the religions which possess and divide mankind. For men having been principled with an opinion, that they must not consult reason in the things of religion, however apparently contradictory to common sense and the very principles of all their knowledge, have let loose their fancies and natural superstition ; and have been by them led into so strangfl opinions and extravagant practices in religion, that a con- siderate man cannot but stand amazed at their follies, and judge them so far from being acceptable to the great and wiae God, that he cannot avoid thinking them ridiculous and Chap, xix.] enthusiasm. 311 ofiensive to a sober good man. So that, in effect, religion, which should most distinguish us from beasts, and o^ight most peculiarly to elevate us, as rational creatures, -ibove brutes, is that wherein men often appear most irrational and more senseless than beasts themselves. " Credo, quia im- possibile est;" I believe, because it is impossible, might in a good man pass for a sally of zeal ; but would prove a very ill rule for men to choose their opinions or religion by. CHAPTER XIX. OP ENTHUSIASM. 1. Love of Truth necessoury. — He that would seriously set npon the search of truth,* ought in the first place to prepare his mind with a love of it. For he that loves it not, will not take much pains to get it, nor be much concerned when he misses it. There is nobody in the commonwealth ot learning who does not profess himself a lover of truth ; and there is not a rational creattire that would not take it amiss to be thought otherwise of And yet, for all this, one may truly say, that there are very few lovers of truth, for truth's sake, even amongst those who persuade themselves that they are so. How a man may know whether he be so in earnest, . * In Milton's Areopagitica there occurs a passage on the love and beauty of truth so fervid, nervous, and worthy of admiration, that I am tempted to introduce it as a note upon this passage, which yet, 1 confess, stands in little need of illustration. " Truth indeed came once into the world with her Divine Master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to look on : but when he ascended, and his apostles after him were laid asleep, then straight arose a wicked race of deceivers, who, as that story goes of the Egyptian Typhon with his conspu'ators, how they dealt with the god Osiris, took the vii'gin Truth, hewed her lovely form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the four winds. Etoth that time ever since, the sad fiiends of Truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful search that Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris, went up and down, gathering up limb by limb still as they could find them. We have not yet found them all — lords and commons — nor ever shall do, till her Master's second coming ; he shall bring to- 'gether every joint and member, and shall mould them into an immortal feature of lo^vMiness and perfection. SufiFer not these licensing prd^ bibitions to' stand at every place of opportunity, forbidding and disturb- ing them that continue seeking — that continue to do our obsequies to the torn body of our martyred saint." (§ 61.) — Ed. 312 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDUfO. [bOOK IV. is worth h.quiry: and I think there is one- unerring mark of it, viz., the not entertaining any proposition with greater assurance than the proofs it is built upon will warrant. Whoever goes beyond this measure of assent, it is plain re>- ceives not the truth in the love of it ; loves not truth for truth's sake, but for some other bye-end.* For the evidence that any proposition is true (except such as are self-e-v-ident) lying only in the proofs a man has of it, whatsoever degreep of assent he affords it beyond the degrees of that evidence, it is plain that all the surplusage of assurance is owing_ to some other affection, and not to the love of truth : it being as impossible that the love of truth should carry my assent above the evidence there is to me that it is true, as that the love of truth should make me assent to any proposition' for the sake of that evidence, which it has not that it is true; which is in effect to love it as a truth, because it is possible or probable that it may not be true. In any truth that gets not possession of our minds by the irresistible light of self- evidence, or by the force of demonstration, the arguments that gain it assent are the vouchers and gage of its probability to us ; and we can receive it for no other than such as they deliver it to our understandings. Whatsoever credit or authority we give to any proposition more than it receives from the principles and proofs it supports itself upon, is owing to our inclinations that way, and is so far a derogation from the love of truth as such : which, as it can receive no evidence from our passions or interests, so it should receive no tincture from them. 2. A FoT-wa/rdness to dictate, from wlience. — The assuming an authority of dictating to others, and a forwardness to prescribe to their opinions, is a constant concomitant of this bias and corruption of our judgments. For how almost can it be otherwise, but that he should be ready to impose on another's belief, who has already imposed on his own? Who can reasonably expect arguments and conviction from him in deaHng with others, whose understanding is not accustomed * In the same spirit Milton remarks, that, "A man may be a heretin in the truth ; and if he believe things only because his pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without knowing other reason, though liia belief be triie, yet the very truth he holds becomes his heresy." (Areopag. I 54.)— Eo. CHAP. XiX.] ENTHUSIASM. 31.3 to them in his dealing with himself 1 Who does violence to his own faculties, tyrannizes over his own mind, and usurps the prerogative that belongs to truth alone, which is to com- mand assent by only its own authority, i.e., by and in pro- portion to that evidence which it carries with it. 3. Force of Enthusiasm. — Upon this occasion I shall take the liberty to consider a third ground of assent, which with some men has the same authority, and is as confidently relied on as either faith or reason; I mean enthusiasm: which, lay- ing by reason, would set up revelation without it. Whereby •in effect it takes away both reason and revelation, and sub- stitutes in the room of it the ungrounded fancies of a man's own brain, and assumes them for a foundation both of opinion and conduct. , 4. Reason and Rerodation. — Keason is natural revelation, whereby the eternal Father of light and fountain of all know- ledge, communicates to mankind that portion of truth which he has laid within the reach of their natural faculties : reve- lation is natural reason enlarged by a new set of discoveries communicated by God immediately, which reason vouches the truth of, by the testimony and proofs it gives that they come from God. So that he that takes away reason to make ■way for revelation, puts out the light of both; and doep muchwhat the same as if he would persuade a man to put out his eyes, the better to receive the remote light of an in- visible star by a telescope. 5. Rise of Enthusiasm. — Immediate revelation being a much easier way for men to establish their opinions and re- gulate their conduct, than the tedious and not always success- fill labour of strict reasoning, it is no wonder that some have been very apt to pretend to revelation, and to persuade them- selves that they are under the pecxdiar guidance of heaven in their actions and opinions, especially in those of them which they cannot account for by the ordinary methods of knowledge and principles of reason. Hence we see, that, in all ages, men in whom melancholy has mixed with devotion, or whose conceit of themselves has raised them into an opinion of a greater familiarity with God, and a nearer ad- mittance to his favour than is afforded to others, have often flattered themselves with a persuasion of an immediate inter- course with the Deity, and frequent communications fi'om 314 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDINa. [bOOK IT. the Divine Spirit. God, I own, cannot Ije denied to be able to enlighten the understanding by a ray darted into the mind immediately from the fountain of light : this they understand he has promised to do, and who then has so good a title to expect it as those who are his peculiar people, chosen by him. and depending on him 1 6. Enthusiasm. — Their minds being thus prepared, what- ever groundless opinion comes to settle itself strongly upon their fancies, is an illumination from the Spirit of God, and presently of divine authority: and whatsoever odd action "they find in themselves a strong inclination to do, that im- pulse is concluded to be a call or direction from heaven, and must be obeyed; it is a commission from above, and they cannot err in executing it. 7. This I take to be properly enthusiasm,* which, though founded neither on reason nor divine revelation, but rising from the conceits of a warmed or overweening brain, works yet, where it once gets footing, more powerfully on the per- suasions and actions of men than either of those two, or both together: men being most forwardly obedient to the im- pulses they receive from themselves ; and the whole man is sure to act more vigorously where the whole man is carried by a natural motion. For strong conceit, like a new prin- * This chapter did not appear in the first edition, but was planned afterwards, and the idea communicated by letter to the author's friend, Mr. Molyneux ; who at first thought it unnecessary, yet, upon recon- sideration, recommended it to be introduced, but in a very difierent shape. "I must freely confess," he writes, "that if my notion of enthusiasm agrees with yours, there is no necessity of adding anything concerning it, more than by the by, and in a single section in chap. 18, lib. iv. I conceive it to be no other than a religious sort of madness, ajid comprises not in it any mode of thinking, or operation of the mind different from what you have treated of in your essay. 'T is true, in- deed, the absurdities men embrace on account of religion are most astO' nishing ; and if, in a chapter of Enthusiusm, you endeavour to give an account of them, it would be very acceptable. So that, (on second thought,) I do veiy well approve of what you propose therein, being very desirous of having your sentiments on any subject." (Works, HI. 533.) To which Locke replies, "What I shall add concerning enthu- siasm, I guess, will very much agree with your thoughts, since yours jump so right with mine. About the place where it is to come in, I have designed it for chap. 18, lib. iv. as a false principle of reasoning often made use of. But, to give an historical account of the various ravings men have embraced for religion, would, I fear, be beside my purpose, and be enough to make a huge volume." (p. 536.) CHAP. XtX.] EJTHUSIASM. . 315 ciple, carries all easily ■with it, when got above common sense and freed from all restraint of reason and check of reflectioB, it is heightened into a divine authority, in concurrence with our own temper and inclination. 8. Enthusiasm mistaken for Seeing and Feeling. — Though the odd opinions and extravagant actions enthusiasm has run men into were enough to warn them against this wrong principle, so apt to misguide them both in their belief and conduct, yet the love of something extraordinary, the ease and glory it is to be inspired, and be above the common and natural ways of knowledge, so flatters many men's laziness, ignorance, and vanity, that, when once they are got into this way of immediate revelation, 9f illumination without search, and of certainty without proof and without exami- nation, it is a hard matter to get them out of it. Reason is lost upon them, they are above it : they see the light in- fused into their understandings, and cannot be mistaken j it is clear and visible there, like the light of bright sunshine ; shows itself, and needs no other proof but its own evidence : they feel the hand of God moving them within, and the im- pulses of the Spirit, and cannot be mistaken in what they feel. Thus they support themselves, and are sure reason hath nothing to do with what they see and feel in them- selves: what they have a sensible experience of admits no doubt, needs no probation. Would he not be ridiculous, who should require to have it proved to him that the light shines, and that he sees it? It is its own proof, and can have no other. "When the Spirit brings light into our minds, it dispels darkness. We see it as we do that of the sun at noon, and need not the twilight of reason to show it us. This light from heaven is strong, clear, and pure; carries its own demonstration with it : and we may as naturally take a glow- worm to assist us to discover the sun, as to examine the celestial ray by our dim candle, rea.son. 9. Unthusiasm fiow to he discovered. — This is the way of talking of these men: they are sure, because they are sure: and their persuasions are right, because they are strong in them. For, when what they say is stnpped of the metaphor of seeing and feeling, this is all it amounts to : and yet these similies so impose on them, that they serve them for cet- tainty in themselves, and demonstration to others. SI 6 OP HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, [BOOK IV 10. But to examine a little sol>erly this internal ligtit, and this feeling on which they build so much. These men have, they say, clear light, and they see; they have awakened sense, and they feel : this cannot, they are sure, be disputed them. For when a man says he sees or feels, nobody can deny him that he does so. But here let me ask : — this see- ing, is it the perception of the truth of the proposition, or of this, that it is a revelation from God? — this feeling, is it a perception of an inclination or fancy to do something, or of the Spirit of God moving that inclination? These are two very different perceptions, and must be carefully distinguished, if we would not impose upon ourselves. I may perceive the truth of a proposition, and yet not perceive that it is an immediate revelation from God. I may perceive the truth of a proposition in Euclid, without its being or my perceiv- ing it to be a revelation: nay, I may perceive I came not by this knowledge in a natui-al way, and so may conclude it revealed, without perceiving that it is a revelation of God ; because there be spirits which, without being divinely commissioned, may excite those ideas in me, and lay them in such order before my mind, that I may perceive theii connexion. So that the knowledge of any proposition com- ing into my mind, I know not how, is not a perception that it is from God. Much less is a strong persuasion that it is true, a perception that it is from God, or so much as true. But however it be called light and seeing, I suppose it is at •most bvit belief and assurance: and the proposition taken for a revelation, is not such as they know to be true, but take to be true. For where a proposition is known to be true, revelation is needless : and it is hard to conceive how there can be a revelation to any one of what he knows al- ready. If therefore it be a proposition which they are per- suaded, but do not know, to be true, whatever they may call it, it is not seeing, but believing. For these are two ways whereby truth comes into the mind, wholly distinct, so that one is not the other. What I see, I know to be so, by the evidence of the thing itself: what I believe, I take to be so upon the testimony of another: but this testimony I must know to be given, or else what ground have I of believing! I must see that it is God that reveals this to me, or else I we nothing. The question then here is, how io I know that CHAP. XIX. J ENTHUSIASM. 31T God is the revealer of this to me; that this impressim is made upon my mind by his Holy Spirit, and that therefore I ought to obey it? If I know not this, how great soever' the assurance is that I am possessed with, it is groundless; whatever light I pretend to, it is but enthusiasm. For whether the proposition supposed to be revealed, be in itself evidently true, or visibly probable, or by the natural ways of knowledge uncertain, the proposition that must be well grounded and manifested to be true, is this, that God is the revealer of it, and that what I take to be a revelation is certainly put into my mind by him , and is not an illusion dropped in by some other spirit or raised by my own fancy. For, if I mistake not, these men receive it for true, because they presume God revealed it. Does it not, then, stand them upon to examine on what grounds they presume it to be a revelation from Godi or else all their confidence is mere presumption : and this light they are so dazzled with is nothing but an ignis fatuus, that leads them constantly round in this circle;* it is a revelation, because they firmly believe it, and they believe it, because it is a revelation. 11. Mnth/iisidgm faUs of Emdence, that tlie Proposition is from God. — In all that is of divine revelation, there is need of no other proof but that it is an inspiration from God ; for he can neither deceive nor be deceived. But how shall it be known that any proposition in our minds is a truth in- fused by God ; a truth that is revealed to us by him, which he declares to us, and therefore we ought to believe? Here it is that enthusiasm fails of the evidence it pretends to. For men thus possessed, boast of a light whereby they say they are enlightened, and brought into the knowledge of this or that truth. But if they know it to be a truth, they must know it to be so, either by its own self-evidence to natural reason, or by the rational proofs that make it out to be so. If they see and know it to be a truth, either of these two ways, they in vain suppose it to be a revelation. For they know it to be true the same way that any other man naturally may know that it is so, without the help of reve- lation. For thus, all the truths, of what kind soever, that men uninspired are enlightened with, came into their minds^ • An ignis fatuus that bewitches, And leads them into pools and ditchet. — HCDIBRAS. — Es. 318 OF HUMAN UNDEKSTAlfDINO. ' [bOOK IV. ' and are established there. If they say they know it to be tme, because it is a revelation from God, the reason is good ; but then it will be demanded how they know it to be a revela- tion from God. If they say, by the light it brings with it which shines bright in their minds, and they cannot resist: 1 beseech them to consider whether this be any more than what we have taken notice of already, viz., that it is a reve- lation, because they strongly believe it to be true. For all the light they speak of is but a strong, though ungrounded persuasion of their own minds, that it is a truth. For rational grounds from proofs that it is a truth, they must acknowledge to have none; for then it is not received as a revelation, but upon the ordinary grounds that other truths are received : and if they believe it to be true because it is a revelation, and have no other reason for its being a revela- tion, but because they are fully persuaded without any other reason that it is true; they believe it to be a revelation only because they strongly believe it to be a revelation; which is a very unsafe ground to proceed on, either in our tenets or actions. And what readier way can there be to run our- selves into the most extravagant errors and miscarriages, than thus to set up fancy for our supreme and sole guide, and to believe any proposition to be true, any action to be right, only because we believe it to be so? The strength of our persuasions is no. evidence at all of their own rectitude : crooked things may be as stiff and inflexible as straight: and men may be as positive and peremptory in error as in truth. How come else the untractable zealots in different and opposite parties? For if the light, which every on« thinks he has in his mind, which in this case is nothing but the strength of his own persuasion, be an evidence that it ia from God, oontraiy opinions have the same title to inspira- tions; and God will be not only the Father of lights, but of opposite and contradictory lights, leading men contrary ways ; and contradictory propositions will be divine truths, if an ungrounded strength of assurance be an evidence that any proposition is a di^-ine revelation. 12. Firmness of Persuasion no Proof that any Proposition is from God. — Tliis cannot be otherwise, whilst firmness of persuasion is made the cause of believing, and confidence of being in the right is made an argument of truth. St. Paul CHAP. XIX] ENTHUSIASM. 310' himself believed he did well, and that he had a call to it ■wnenhe persecuted the Christians, whomheconfideiitly thought in the wrong; but yet it was he, and not they, who were mis- taken. Good men are men still, liable to mistakes ; and are sometimes warmly engaged in eiTors, which they take for divine truths, shining in their minds with the clearest Hght. 13. Light in the Mind, what. — Light, true light, in the mind is, or cau be nothing else but the evidence of the truth of any proposition ; and if it be not a self-evident proposition, all the light it has or can have is from the clearness and validity of those proofs upon which it is received. To talk of any other light in the understanding, is to put ourselves in the dark, or in the power of the Prince of Darkness, and by our own consent to give ourselves up to delusion to believe a lie. For if strength of persusasion be the light which must guide us; I ask how shall any one distinguish between the delusions of Satan, and the inspirations of the Holy Ghost? He can transform himself into an angel of light. And they who are led by this son of the morning, are as fully satisfied of the illumination, i. e., are as strongly persuaded that they are enlightend by the Spirit of God aa any one who is so : they acquiesce and rejoice in it, are actu- ated by it, and nobody can be more sure, nor more in the right (if their own strong belief may be judge) than they. 14. Revelation m/ust be judged of by Reason. — He, there- fore, that will not give himself up to all the extravagances of delusion and error, must bring this guide of his light within to the trial. God, when he makes the prophet, does not unmake the man. He leaves all his faculties in the natural state, to enable him to judge of his inspirations, whether they be of divine original or no. When he illuminates the mind with supernatural light; he does not extinguish that which is natural. If he would have us assent to the truth of any proposition, he either evidences that truth by the usual methods of natural reason, or else makes it known to be a truth which he would have us assent to by his authority, and convinces us that it is from him, by some marks which reason cannot be mistaken in. Reason must be our last 'udge and guide in everything. I do not mean that we •must consult reason, and examine whether a proposition tevealed from God can be made out by natural jirinciple% 330 OF HUMAN TINDERStAlfDINa. [bOOK IV. and if it cannot, that then we may reject it ; but consult it ■we must, and by it examine whether it be a revelation from God or no. And if reason finds it to be revealed from God, reason then declares for it as much as for any other truth, and makes it one of her dictates. Every conceit that thoroughly warms our fancies must pass for an inspiration, if there be nothing but the strength of our persuasions, whereby to judge of our persuasions : if reason must not examine their truth by something extrinsical to the per- suasions themselves, inspirations and delusions, truth and falsehood, will have the same measure, and will not be possible to be distinguished. 15. Belitf no Proof of Bevdation. — If this internal light, or any proposition which under that title we take for in- spired, be conformable to the principles of reason, or to the word of God, which is attested revelation, reason warrants it, and we may safely receive it for true, and be guided by it in oirr belief and actions : if it receive no testimony nor evi- dence from either of these lules, we cannot take it for a revelation, or so much as for true, till we have some other mark that it is a revelation, besides our believing that it is so. Thus we see the holy men of old, who had revelations from God, had something else besides that internal light of assurance in their own minds, to testify to them that it was from God. They were not left to their own persuasions alone, that those persuasions were from God, but had outward signs to convince them of the author of those revelations. And when they were to convince others, they had a power given them to justify the truth of their commission from heaven, and by visible signs to assert the divine authority of a message they were sent with. Moses saw the bush burn without being consumed, and heard a voice out of it. This was something besides finding an impulse upon his mind to go to Pharaoh, that he might bring his brethi-en out of Egypt : and yet he thought not this enough to authorize him to go with that message, till God, by another miracle of his rod turned into a serpent, had assured him of a power to testify his mission,, by the same miracle repeated before them, whom he was sent to. Gideon was sent by an angel to deliver Israel from the Midianites, and yet he desired a sign to convince him that this commission was from God. These, and several the lika CHAP. XJ.J YTROXO ASSENT, OK ERROa 321 instances to be found among the prophets of old, are enough to show that they thought not an inward seeing or persua- sion of their own minds, without any other proof, a sufficient evidence that it was from God; though the Scripture does not everywhere mention their demanding or having such proofs. 16. In what I have said I am far from denying, that God can or doth sometimes enlighten men's minds in the appre- hending of certain truths^ or excite them to good actions by the immediate influence and assistance of the Holy Spirit, without any extraordinary signs accompanying it. But in such cases too we have reason and Scripture, unerring rules to know whether it be from God or no. Where the truth embraced is consonant to the revelation in the written word of God, or the action conformable to the dictates of right reason or holy writ, we may be assured that we run no risk in entertaining it as such ; because, though perhaps it be not an immediate revelation from God, extraordinarily operating on our minds, yet we are sure it is warranted by that revela- tion which he has given us of truth. But it is not the strength of our private persuasion within ourselves, that can warrant it to be a light or motion from heaven; nothing can do that but the written Word of God without us, or that standard of reason which is common to us with all men. Where reason or Scripture is express for any opinion or action, we may receive it as of divine authority ; but it is not the strength of our own persuasions which can by itsell give it that stamp. The bent of our own minds may favoxir it as much as we please; that may show it to be a fondling of our own, but will by no means prove it to be an offspring of heaven, and of divine original. CHAPTEE XX. OP WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 1. Causes of Error. — Knowledge being to be had only of visible and certain truth, error is not a fault of our know- ledge, but a mistake of our judgment, giving assent to that which is not true. But if assent be grounded on likelihood, if the proper object and motive of our assent be probability, and that VOL. U. T 522 OF HUMAN UNDEBSTANDING. [bOOK IV probability consists in what is laid down in tbe foregoing chapters, it will be demanded how men come to give their assents contrary to probability. For there is nothing more common than contrariety of opinions ; nothing more obvious than that one man wholly disbelieves what another only doubts of, and a third stedfastly believes and firmly adheres to. The reasons whereof, though they may be very various, yet, I suppose may all be reduced to these four : I. Want of proofs. II. Want of ability to use them. III. Want of will to use them. IV. Wrong measures of probability. 2. I. Want of Proofs. — First, By want of proofs, I do not mean only the want of those proofs which are nowhere ex- tant, and so are nowhere to be had; but the want even of those proofs which are in being, or might be procured. And thus men want proofs, who have not the convenience or opportunity to make experiments and observations them- selves tending to the proof of any proposition ; nor likewise the convenience to inquire into and collect the testimonies of others : and in this state are the greatest part of mankind, who are given up to labour, and enslaved to the necessity of their mean condition, whose lives are worn out only in the provisions for living. These men's opportunities of know- ledge and inquiry are commonly as narrow as their fortunes; and their understandings are but little instructed, when all their whole time and pains is laid out to still the croaking of cheir own bellies, or the cries of their children. It is not to be expected that a man who drudges on all his life in a labo- rious trade, should be more knowing in the variety of things done in the world than a packhorse, who is driven constantly forwards and backwards in a narrow lane and dirty road, only to market, should be skilled in the geography of the country. Nor is it at all more possible, that he who wants leisure, books, and languages, and the opportunity of con- versing with variety of men, should be in a condition to collect those testimonies and observations which are in being, and are necessary to make out many, nay, most of the pro- positions that, in the societies of men, are judged of the greatest moment; or to find out grounds of assurance so great as the belief af the points he would build on them is CHAP. 3CX.1 WHONG ASSENT, OR ERROB. 323 thought necessary. So that a great part of iri,nkiud are, hy the natural and unalterable state of things in this world, and the constitution of human affairs, unavoidably given over to invincible ignorance of those proofs on which others build, and which are necessary to establish those opinions ; the greatest part of men, having much to do to get the means of living, are not in a condition to look after those of learned and laborious inquiries. 3. Ohj. What shall become of those who want them ? an- swered. — What shall we say, then? Are the greatest part ol mankind, by the necessity of their condition, subjected to imavoidable ignorance in those things wliich are of greatest importance to them? (for of these it is obvious to inquire.) Have the bulk of mankind no other guide but accident and blind chance to conduct them to their happiness or misery 1 Ajce the current opinions and licensed guides of every countiy, sufficient evidence and security to every man to venture his great concernments on; nay, his everlasting happiness or misery? Or can those be the certain and infallible oracles and standards of truth, which teach one thing in Christen- dom and another in Turkey? Or shall a poor countryman be eternally happy for having the chance to be bom in Italy; or a day-labourer be unavoidably lost because he had the ill- luck to be bom in England?* How ready some men may * Thus that charitable Dominican, Navarrete, by wholesale damns the Chinese for not being bom in Spain. " They dress him (the dead man) in his best clothes, which they keep careftxlly while they are living, against they are dead ; the devil takes them very richly and warmly clad." (L II. c. viii. § 7.) But the good father is perfectly impartial, for not the Chinese only, but all Mahometans, Lutherans, and Cal- vinists go the same broad way to destruction. "Here we might discuss a point of great moment, which is, whether those sectaries we have mentioned were saved, or whether we may doubt of their salvation? In the second tome, which is the proper place, what was said to this point in China, shall be declared, I never made any difficulty to maintain they were damned, as I affirm of Mahomet, Calvin, Luther, and others of the same leaven. I know those of the contrary opinion all hang by one another, and say the same of those we have mentioned as they do of Fo and others. But I follow the opinion of S. Peter Maiimenus Martyr, mentioned in the Martyrology, on the twenty- first of February. He lying sick at Damascus, some Mahometans came in to visit him. The saint told them that those who did not profess the law of God wont to heU as Mahomet had done. The infidels killed him for these words, and he was a glorious martyr. Why might not he be so, who should say the same of Po and others? ' (li. II. o. xiL-§ 8,)— Ed. 324 OF HUMAN UNDEESTAlVT>tWG. [BOOK IV be to say some of these things, I wDl not here examine; but this I am sure, that men must allow one or other of these to be true, (let them choose which they please,) or else grant that God has furnished men with faculties sufficient to direct them in the way they should take, if they will but seriously employ them that way, when their ordinary vocations allow them the leisure. No man is so wholly taken up with the attendance on the means of living, as to have no spare time at at all to think of his soul, and inform himself in matters of religion. Were men as intent upon this, as they are on things- of lower concernment, there are none so enslaved to the necessities of life, who might not find many vacancies that might be husbanded to this advantage of their knowledge. 4. People hindered from Inquiry. — Besides those whose improvements and informations are straitened by the narrow- ness of their fortunes, there are others whose largeness of fortune would plentifully enough supply books and other requisites for clearing of doubts and discovering of truth; but they are cooped in close, by the laws of their countries, and the strict guards of those whose interest it is to keep them ignorant, lest, knowing more, they should believe the less in them. These are as far, nay further, from the liberty and opportunities of a fair inquiry, than these poor and wretched labourers we before spoke of ; and however they may seem high and great, are confined to narrowness of thought, and enslaved in that which should be the freest part of man : their understandings. This is generally the case of all those who live in places where care is taken to propagate truth without knowledge ; where men are forced, at a ven- ture, to be of the religion of the countiy; and must there- fore swallow down opinions, as sUly people do empiric's pills, without knowing what they are made otj or how they will work, and having nothing to do but believe that they will do the cure ; but in this are much more miserable than they, in that they are not at liberty to refuse swallowing what per- haps they had rather let alone ; or to choose the physician, to whose conduct they would trust themselves. 5. II. Wa/nt qf Skill to use tJiem. — Secondly, Those who want skill to use those evidences they have of probabilities; who cannot carry a train of consequences in their heads; nor wcign exactly the preponderancy of contrary proofs and tes- CUAf. XX.J MTRONQ ASSENT, OK EKROlt 325 timonies, making every circumstance its due allowance; may be easily misled to assent to positions that are not probable. There are some men of one, some but of two syllogisms, and no more; and others that can but advance one step further. These cannot always discern that side on which the strongest proofs lie, cannot constantly follow that which in itself is the more probable opinion. Now that there is such a difference between men, in respect of their understandings, I think no- body, who has had any conversation with his neighbours, will question : though he never was at Westminster-Hall or the EKohange on the one hand, or at Alms-houses or Bedlam on the other. Which, great difference in men's intellectuals, whether it rises from any defect in the organs of the body, particularly adapted to thinking; or in the dulness or un- tractableness of those faculties for want of use; or, as some think, in the natural differences of men's souls themselves; or some, or all of these together; it matters not here to exa- mine: only this is evident, that there is a difference of de- grees in men's understandings, apprehensions, and reasonings, to so great a latitude, that one may, without doing injury to mankind, affirm, that there is a greater distance between some men and others in this respect, than between some men and some beasts. But how this comes about is a speculation, though of great consequence, yet not necessary to our present purpose. 6. III. Wamt of Will to use them,. — Thirdly, There are an- other sort of people that want proofs, not because they are out of their reach, but because they will not use them ; who, though they have riches and leisure enough, and want neither parts nor other helps, are yet never the better for them. Their hot pursuit of pleasure, or constant drudgery in busi- ness, engages some men's thoughts elsewhere: laziness and oscitancy in general, or a particular aversion for books, study, and meditation, keep others from any serious thoughts at all; and some out of fear that an impartial inquiry would not favour those opinions which best suit their prejudices, lives, and designs, content themselves, without examination, to take upon trust what they find convenient and in fashion. Thus, most men, even of those that might do otherwise, pass their lives without an acquaintance with, much less a rational ii^aent to, probabilities^ they aie concerned to koow, tliough 328 OF HUMAN UNDERSTANDINO. ("BOOK IV they lie so much, within their view, that, to be convinced of them, they need but tui-n their eyes that way. We know some men wUl not read a lettei which is supposed to bring ill uewsj and many men forbear to cast up their accounts, or so luuch as think upon their estates, who have reason to fear their affairs are in no very good posture. How men, whose plentiful fortunes allow them leisure to improve their under- standings, can satisfy themselves with a lazy ignorance, I cannot tell : but methinks they have a low opinion of their souls, who lay out all their incomes in provisions for the body, and employ none of it to procure the means and helps of knowledge ; who take great care to appear always in a neat and splendid outside, and would think themselves mise- rable in coarse clothes, or a patched coat, and yet contentedly suffer their minds to appear abroad in a piebald livery of coarse patches and borrowed shreds, such as it has pleased chance or their country tailor (I mean the common opinion of those they have conversed with) to clothe them in. I will not here mention how unreasonable this is for men that ever think of a future state and their concernment in it, which no rational man can avoid to do sometimes : nor shall I take notice what a shame and confusion it is to the greatest con- temners of knowledge, to be found ignorant in things they are concerned to know. But this at least is worth the con- sideration of those who call themselve'3 gentlemen, that, how- ever they may think credit, respect, power, and authority the concomitants of their birth and fortune, yet they will find all these still carried away from them by men of lower condition, who surpass them in knowledge. They who are blind will always be led by those that see, or else fall into the ditch: and he is certainly the most subjected, the most enslaved, who is so in his understanding. In the foregoing instances some of the causes have been shown of wrong assent, and how it comes to pass, that probable doctrines art not always received with an assent proportionable to th6 reasons which are to be had for their probability: but hitherto we have considered only such probabilities whose proofs do exist, but do not appear to him who embraces the error. 7. IV. Wrong Measures of ProbahUity ; whereof: — Fourthly There remains yet the last sort, who, even where the real pro- CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. 327 babilities appear, and are plainly laid before them, do not admit of the conviction, nor yield unto manifest reasons, but do either iirkx^iv , suspend their assent, or give it to the less probable opinion. And to this danger are those exposed ■who have taken up \«rong measures of probability ; which are, I. Propositions that are not in themselves certain and evident, but doubtful and false, taken up for principles. II. Received hypothesis. III. Predominant psissions or inclinations IV. Authority. 8. I. Doubtful Propositions taken for Principles. — First, The first and firmest ground of probability is the conformity anything has to our own knowledge, especially that part of our knowledge which we have embraced, and continue to look on as principles. These have so great an influence upon our opinions, that it is usually by them we judge of truth, and measure probability to that degree, that what is incon- sistent with our principles, is so far from passing for pro- bable with us, that it will not be allowed possible. The reverence borne to these principles is so great, and their autho- rity so paramount to all other, that the testimony, not only of other men, but the evidence of our own senses are often rejected, when they oflTer to vouch anything contrary to these established rul&s. How much the doctrine of innate jmnci- ples, and that principles are not to be proved or questioned, has contributed to this, I will not here examine. This I readily gitint, that one truth cannot contradict another : but withal I take leave also to say, that every one ought very carefully to beware what he admits for a principle, to ex- amine it strictly, and see whether he certainly knows it to be true of itself by its own evidence, or whether he does only with assurance believe it to be so upon the authority of others. For he hath a strong bias put into his understanding, which will unavoidably misguide his assent, who hath im- bibed wrong principles, and has blindly given himself up to the authority of any opinion in itself not evidently true. 9. There is nothing more ordinary than children's re- ceiving into their minds propositions (especially about matters of religion) from their parents, nurses, or those about them ; which being insinuated into their unwary as well as un- biassed understandings, and fastened by degreee, are at last 328 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAISTDING. {bOOK IV (equally whether true or false) riveted there by long custom and education, beyond all possibility of being pulled out agdin. For men, when they are grown up, reflecting upon their opinions, and finding those of this sort to be as ancient in their minds as their very memories, not having observed their early insinuation, nor by what means they got them, they are apt to reverence them as sacred things, and not to sufl'er them to be profaned, touched, or questioned: they look on them as the TJrim and Thummim set up in their minds immediately by God himself, to be the great and unerring deciders of truth and falsehood, and the judges to which they are to appeal in all manner of ctintroversies. 10. This opinion of his pi-inciples (let them be what they wUl) being once established in any one's mind, it is easy to be imagined what reception any proposition shall find — how clearly soever proved — that shall invalidate their authority, or at all thwart with these internal oracles; whereas the grossest absurdities and improbabilities, being but agreeable to such principles, go down glibly, and are easily digested. The great obstinacy that is to be found in men firmly be- lieving quite contrary opinions, though many times equally absurd, iu the various religions of mankind, are as evident a proof as they are an unavoidable consequence of this way of reasoning from received traditional principles. So that men will disbelieve their own eyes, renounce the evidence of their senses, and give their own experience the lie, rather than admit of anything disagreeing with the.se sacred tenets. Take an intelligent Romanist that, from the first dawning of any notions in his understanding, hath had this principle con- stantly inculcated, viz., that he must believe as the church (i. e., those of his communion) believes, or that the pope is in- fallible; and this he never so much as heard questioned, till at forty or fifty years old he met with one of other prin-! ciples : how is he prepared easily to swallow, not only against all probability, but even the clear evidence of his senses, the doctrine of transubstantiation ] This principle has such an influence on his mind, that he will believe that to be flesh which he sees to be bread. And what way will you take to convince a man of any improbable opinion he holds, who, with some philosophers, hath laid down this as a foundation of reasoning, that he must believe his reason (for so men im- 3BA.e. XX.J WRONG ASSENT OR ERROR 329 properly call arguments drawn from their priuoiples) against Ms senses? Let an enthusiast be principled that he or his teacher is inspired, and acted* by an immediate coinrauni- cation of the Divine Spirit, and you in vain bring the evidence of clear reasons against his doctrine. Whoever, therefore, have imbibed wrong principles, are not, in thin^ inconsistent with these principles, to be moved by the most apparent and convincing probabilities, till they are so candid and ingenuous to themselves, as to be persuaded to examine even those very principles, which many never suffer them- selves to do. 11. II. Received Hypothesis. — Secondly, Next to these are men whose understandings are cast into a mould, and fashioned just to the size of a received hypothesis. The difference between these and the former, is, that they wUl admit of matter of fact, and agree with dissenters in that; but differ only in assigning of reasons and explaining the manner of operation. These are not at that open defiance with their senses, with the former : they can endux-e to hearken to their information a little more patiently; but will by no means admit of their reports in the explanation of things; nor be prevailed on by probabilities, which would convince them that things are not brought about just after the same manner that they have decreed within themselves that they are. Would it not be an insufferable thing for a learned professor, and that which his scarlet would blush at, to have his authority of forty yeara standing, wrought out of hard rock, Greek and Latin, with no small expense of time and candle, and confirmed by general tradition and a reverend beard, in an instant overturned by an upstart novelist? Can any one expect that he should be made to confess, that what he taught his scholars thiity years ago was all error and mistake ; and that he sold them hard words and ignorance at a very dear rate.t What probabilities, I say, are sufficient * That ia, actuated. — Ed. + The reader who ia acquainted with that very philosophical work, the Adventures of Gil Bias, of Santillane, will doubtless recollect a practical illustration of the reluctance which men usually feel to give up any opi- nions which they have once acknowledged to be their own, even though their adhering to them should cost the lives and happiness of half their neighbours. But in case any one should have forgotten it, and not have the volume at band, he may not be displeased to jind it here, " ' Sir, 830 OP HUMAN tTNDBRSTANDUfG. [bOOX IV. to prevail in such a case? And whoever, by the most cogent arguments, will be prevailed with to disrobe himself at onc€ of all his old opinions, and pretences to knowledge and learning, which with hard study he hath all his time been labouring for; and turn himself out stark naked, in quest afresh of new notions'! All the arguments that can be used will be as little able to prevail, as the wind did with the tra- veller to part with his cloak, which he held only the faster.* (said T, one evening to Dr. Sangrado, ) I take heaven to witness that I follow your method with the utmost exactness : yet, every one of my patients leave me in the lurch. It looks as if they took a pleasure in dying, merely to bring our practioe.into discredit. This very day I met two of them going to their long home.' 'Why, truly, child,' answered he, ' I have reason to make pretty much the same observation : I have not often the satisfaction of curing those who fall into my hands ; and if I was not so sure as I am of the principles on which I proceed, I should -think my principles were pernicious in almost all the cases that come under my care.' ' If you will take my advice, sir, ' said I, ' we will change our method, and give chetlaical preparations to our patients, through curiosity : the worst that caIn happen will only be, that they produce the same effect that follows ovlk bleedings and warm water.' ' I would wil- lingly make the experiment, ' he replied, ' provided it could have no bad consequence ; but I have published a book, in which I have extolled the use of frequent bleedii/g and aqueous draughts : and wouldst thou have me go and deny my own work ' ' ' Oh ! you are certainly in the right,' said I, ' you must not give your enemies such a triumph over you ; they would say you are at last disabused ; and therefore ruin your reputation ; perish rather the nobility, clergy, and people ! and let us continue ir. our old path. After all, our brother doctors, notwithstanding their aversion for bleeding, perform as few miracles as we do ; and I believe their drugs are no better than our specifics. We went to work, therefore, afresh, and proceeded in such a manner, that, in less than six weeks, we mada more widows and orphans than the seige of Troy." (t. ii. u. 5.) — Ed. * This will doubtless bring to the reader's mind that exquisite fable of La Fontaine's, in which, while relating "une conte d'une vlelle femme," he presents us with two charming pictures of external natiire, ftil of as true poetry as is to be found in any language. " Notre souffleur h gage Se gorge de vapeurs, s'enfle comme un balon, Fait un vacarme de d^mon Siffle, souffle, temp§te, et brise en son passage Maint toit qui n'en peut mais, peur fait maint bateau Le tout au sujet d'un manteau. Le cavalier eut soin d'empScher que I'orage^ Ne se pAt engoufflev dedans. Cela le preserva. Le vent perdit son temps ; Plus il se tourmentois, plus il tenois ferme, n eut beau faire agir le collet et les plig. CHAP. XX.] WRONG ASSENT, OR ERROR. . 331 To this of wrong hypothesis may be reduced the errors that may be occasioned by a tnte hypothesis, or right principles, but not rightly understood. There is nothing more familiar than this. The instances of men contending for different opinions, which they all derive from the infallible truth of the Scripture, are an undeniable proof of it. All that call themselves Christians, allow the text that says, luravoiiTi, to carry in it the obligation to a very weighty duty. But yet how very erroneous will one of their practices be, who, understanding nothing but the French, taie this rule with one translation to be, " Repentez-vous," repent ; or with the other, " Faitiez penitence," do penance. 12. III. Predominami Passions. — Thirdly, Probabilities which cross men's appetites and prevailing passions, run the same fate. Let ever so much probability hang on one side of a covetous man's reasoning, and money on the other; it is easy to foresee which will outweigh. Earthly minds, like mud walls, resist the strongest batteries: and though, per- haps, sometimes the force of a clear argument may make some impression, yet they nevertheless stand firm, and keep out the enemy, truth, that would captivate or disturb them. Tell a man passionately in love, that he is jilted ; bring a score of witnesses of the falsehood of his mistress, it is ten to one but three kind words of hers shall invalidate all their testimonies. " Quod volumus, facile credimus ;" what suits our wishes, is forwardly believed ; is, I suppose, what every one hath more than once experimented: and though men cannot always openly gainsay or resist the force of manifest probabilities that mako against them, yet yield they hot to the argument. Not but that it is the nature of the understanding constantly to close with the more probable side; but yet a man hath a power to suspend and restrain its inquiries, and not permit a full and satisfactory examination, as far as the matter in question is capable, and will bear it to be made. Until that Sitot qu'il fut au bout du terme Qu'k la gageure on avoit mis, Le Boleil dissipe la nue, Eeor^e et puis penetre enfin le cavalier, Sous son balandras fait qu'il sue Le contraint de s'en d^pouiller: Encore n'usa-t il pas de toute sa puissance, Fins fait douceui <|ue viulouce " (Ik vi. fab. 3.) — Ea ■332 OF HUMAN tnfDERSTAiTDiir'a. [book IV. be done, there ■will be always these two ways left of evading the most apparenS; probabilities. 13. The Means of evading Probabilities: I. Swpposed FaEacy. — First, That the arguments being (as for the most part they are) brought in words, there may be a fallacy latent in them : and the consequences being, perhaps, many in train, they may be some of them incoherent. There are very few discourses so short, clear, and consistent, to which most men may not, with satisfaction enough to themselves, raise this doubt; and from whose conviction they may not, without reproach of disingenuity or unreasonableness, set themselves free with the old reply, "Non persuadehis, etiamsi persua- seris ;" though I cannot answer, I will not yield. 14. II. Supposed Arguments for the contrary. — Secondly, Manifest probabilities may be evaded, and the assent with- held upon this suggestion, that I know not yet all that may- be said on the contrary side. And therefore, though I be beaten, it is not necessary I should yield, not knowing what forces there are in reserve behind. This is a refuge against conviction so open and so wide, that it is hard to determine when a man is quite out of the verge of it. 15. What Probabilities determine the Assent. — But yet there is some end of it ; and a man having carefully inquired into all the grounds of probability and iinlikeUness, done his utmost to inform himself in all particulars fairly, and cast up the sum total on both sides; may, in most cases, come tc acknowledge, upon the whole matter, on which side the pro- bability rests : wherein some proofs in matter of reason, being suppositions upon universal experience, are so cogent and clear, and some testimonies in matter of fact so universal, that he cannot refuse his assent. So that I think we may conclude, that, in propositions, where though the proofs in view are of most moment, yet there are sufficient grounds to suspect that there is either fallacy in words, or certain proofs as considerable to be produced on the contrary side; there assent, suspense, or dissent, are often voluntary ac- tions : but where the proofs are such as make it highly pro- bable, and there is not sufficient ground to suspect that there is either fallacy of words (which sober and serious consider- ation may discover) nor equally valid proofs yet undiscovered, latent on the other side; (which also the nature of the thing CHAP. XX.J WRONG ASSENT, OK EHROR S33 may, in some cases, make plain to a considerate man;) there^ I think, a man -who has weighed them can scarce refuse hia assent to the side on which the greater probability appears. Whether it be probable that a promiscuous jumble of print? ing letters should often fall into a method and order, which should stamp on paper a coherent discourse;* or that a blind fortuitous concourse of atoms, not guided by an un- derstanding agent, should frequently constitute the bodies of any species of animals; in these and the like cases, I think, nobody that considers them can be one jot at a stand which side to take, nor at all waver in his assent. Lastly, when there can be no supposition (the thing in its own nature indifferent, and wholly depending upon the testimony of witnesses) that there is as fair testimony against, as for the matter of fact attested; which by inquiry is to be learned, V. g., whether there was one thousand seven hundred years ago such a man at Rome as Julius Caesar : in all such cases, I say, I think it is not in any rational man's power to refuse his assent; but that it necessarily follows, and closes with such probabilities. In other less clear cases, I think it is in man's power to suspend his assent; and perhaps content himself with the proofs he has, if they favour the opinion that suits with his inclination or interest, and so stop from * When Locke wrote the abore sentence he had probably in his mind a very eloquent and curious passage in Cicero, where he makes use of much the same illustration iu treating of the same subject. ' ' Hie ago non mirer esse quemquam, qui sibi persuadeat, corpora qusedam soUda; atque individua, vi et gravitate ferri, mundumque eiEoi omatissimum et pulcherrimum ex eorum corporum concursione fortuity? Hoc qui existi- mat fieri potuisse, non intelligo, cur non idem putet, si innumerabileg unius et viginti formae litteramm vel aurese, vel quales libet, aliqub con- jiciantur, posse ex his in terram excussis annales Ennii, ut deinceps legi possint, effici : quod nescio an ne in uno quidem versu possit tantum valere fortuna. Isti autem quemadmodum asseverant ex corpusoulis non colore, non qualitate aliquS quam Trotdri/ra Grraeci vocant, non sensu prasditis sed concurrentibus temerfe atque amn, munduni esse perfectum? vel Innumerabiles potius in omni puncto temporis alios nasci, alios in- terire? Qubd si mundum efficere potest concursus atomorum, our por^ tioum, cur templum, cur domum, cur urbem non potest? quae sunt minus operosa et multo quidem faciliora." (De Nat. Deo. ii. 37.) It has been thought, as the Abb^ d'Olivet observes on this passage, that it must have led to the discovery of the art of printing ; and certainly if they were altogether igiaia/nt of the invention, they had at least ap* proaebed the very brink of it. — Eo. 334 OF HUMAN UNDEBSTANDTNG. [bOOK IV. furtlier seai'ch. But that a man should afford his asseut to that side on which the less probability appears to him, seems to me utterly impracticable, and as impossible as it is to believe the same thing probable and improbable at the same time. 16. Where it is in our Power to suspend it. — As knowledge is no more arbitrary than perception ; so, I think, assent is no more in our power than knowledge. When the agreement of any two ideas appears to our minds, whether immediately or by the assistance of reason, I can no more refuse to perceive, no more avoid knowing it, than I can avoid seeing those objects which 1 turn my eyes to, and look on in daylight ; and what upon full examination I find the most probable, I cannot deny my assent to. But though we cannot hinder our knowledge, where the agreement is once perceived, nor our assent, where the probability mani- festly appears upon due consideration of all the measures of it ; yet we can hinder both knowledge and assent, by stop- ping our inquiry, and not employing our faculties in the search of any truth. If it wei-e not so, ignorance, error, or infidelity, could not in any case be a fault. Thus, in some cases we can prevent or suspend our assent; but can a man versed in modern or ancient history doubt whether there is such a place as Rome, or whether there was such a man as Julius Osesar'i Indeed, there are millions of truths that a man is not, or may not think himself concerned to know; as whether our king Richard the Third was crooked or no; or whether Roger Bacon was a mathematician or a magician. In these and such like cases, where the assent one way or other is of no importance to the Interest of any one; no action, no concernment of his following or depending there- on; there it is not strange that the mind should give itself up to the common opinion, or render itself to the first comer. These and the like opinions are of so little weight and mo- ment, that, like motes in the sun, their tendencies are very Ktrely taken notice of They are there, as it were, by chance, and the mind lets them float at liberty. But where the mind judges that the proposition has concernment in it: where the assent or not assenting is thought to draw con- sequences of moment after it, and good and evil to depend on choosing or refusing the right side; and the mind sets itself seriously to inquire and examine the probability; there CHAP. XX ] WRONG ASSENT, OR EKROB. S3A I think it is not in our choice to take which side vre please, if manifest odds appear on either. The greater probability, I think, in that case will determine the assent; and a man can no more avoid assenting, or taking it to be true, where he perceives the greater probability, than he can avoid know- ing it to be true, where he perceives the agreement or dis- agreement of any two ideas. If this be so, the foundation of error will lie in wrong measures of probability; as the foundation of vice in wrong measures of good. 17. IV. Autlwrity. — ^Fourthly, The fourth and last wrong measure of probability I shall take notice of, and which keeps in ignorance or error more people than all the other together, is that which I have mentioned in the foregoing chapter; I mean the giving up our assent to the common received opi- nions, either of our friends or party, neighbourhood or country. How many men have no other ground for their tenets, than the supposed honesty, or learning, or number of those of tha same profession? As if honest or bookish men could not err, or truth were to be established by the vote of the mul- titude ; yet this with most men serves the turn. The tenet has had the attestation of reverend antiquity ; it comes to me with the passport of former ages, and therefore I am secure in the reception I give it ; other men have been and are of the same opinion, (for that is all is said,) and therefore it is reasonable for me to embrace it. A man may more justifiably throw up cross and pile for his opinions, than take them up by such measures. All men are liable to error, and most men are in many points, by passion or interest, under temptation to it If we could but see the secret mo- tives that influenced the men of name and learning in the world, and the leaders of jiartiea, we should not always find that it was the embracing of truth for its own sake, that made them espouse the doctrines they owned and maintained. This at least is certain, there is not an opinion so absurd^ which a man may not receive upon this ground; there is no error to be named, which has not had its professors : and a man shall never want crooked paths to walk in, if he thinka that he is in the right way, wherever he has the footsteps of others to follow. 18. Men not in so momy Errors as imagined. — But, noV withstanding the gi-eat noise is made in the world about 336 OF HUMAN UNDERSTAlfDING. [BOOK IT, errors and opinions, I must do inankind that right, iis to say there are not so many men in errors and wrong opinions as is commonly supposed. Not that I think they embrace the truth; but indeed, because concerning those doctrines they keep such a stir about, they have no thought, no opinion at all. For if any one should a little catechise the greatest part of the partizans of most of the sects in the world, he would not find, concerning those matters they are so zealous for, that ihey have any opinions of their own; much less would he have reason to think that they took them upon, the examination of arguments and appearance of probability. They are resolved to stick to a party that education or interest has engaged them in; and there, like the common soldiers of an army, show their courage and warmth as their leaders direct, without ever examining or so much as knowing the cause they contend for. If a man's life shows that he has no serious regard for religion; for what reason should we think that he beats his head about the opinions of his church, and troubles himself to examine the grounds of this or that doctrine? It is enough for him to obey his leaders, to have his hand and his tongue ready for the suppox-t of the common cause, and thereby approve himself to those who can give him credit, preferment, or protection in that society.* Thus men become professors of, and combatants for, those opinions they were never convinced of nor prose- lytes to; no, nor ever had so much as floating in their heads; and though one cannot say there are fewer improbable or erroneous opinions in the world than there are, yet it is cer- tain there are fewer that actually assent to them and mistake them for truth than is imagined. CHAPTER XXI. OP THE DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 1. Three Sorts. — All that can fall within the compass of human understanding, being either. First, the nature of things, * Milton has drawn a lively and admirable picture of a character of this kind, in which he is, if possible, still more sarcastic than Locke, " A wealthy man," he says, " addicted to his pleasure and to his pro- fits, finds religion to be a traflSc, so entangled, and of so many piddling accounts, that of all mysteries he cannot skill to keep a stock going upon that trade What should he do '! Fain he would have the name to be religious, fain he would bear up with his neighbour in that. What does he, therefore, but resolves to give over toilmg, and to find himself out CHAP XXI.] DIVISION OF THE SCIENCES. 337 as they are in themselves, their relations, and their manner of operation; or. Secondly, that which man himself ought to do, as a rational and voluntary agent, for the attainment of aiiy end, especially happiness ; or, Thii'dly, the ways and means whereby the knowledge of both the one and the othei of these is attained and communicated: I think science may be divided properly into these three sorts, 2. I. Phyaica. — First, The knowledge of things, as they are in their own proper beings, their constitution, properties, and operations ; whereby I mean not only matter and body, but spirits also, which have their proper natures, constitu- tions, and operations, as well as bodies. This, in a little more enlarged sense of the word. I call ' ^. 2. 0. 23. par. 22. + B. 2. c. 12. par. 6. t B. 2. c. 23. pars. 1, 2, 3. § B. ? c. IS. par. 19. APPENDIX. 3S5 carding, and reasonable part of the world, signify, t must confess 1 do not clearly comprehend ; but let, almost, ind, reasonable part, signify here what they will, for I dare say your lordship meant something by them ; would not your lordship think you were a little too hardly dealt with, if, for acknowledging yourself to have a very imperfect and inadequate idea of God, or of several other things, which in this very treatise you confess our understandings come short in, and cannot comprehend, you fihould be accused tn be one of these gentlemen that have almost dis- carded God, or those other mysterious things, whereof you contend we have very imperfect and inadequate ideas out of the reasonable world l For I suppose your lordship means by almost discarding out of thi? reasonable world, something that is blamable, for it seems not to be inserted for a commendation ; and yet I think he deserves no blame, who owns the having imperfect, inadequate, obscure ideas, where he has no better : however, if it be inferred from thence, that either he almost excludes those things out of being, or out of rational discourse, if that be meant by the reasonable world ; for the first of these will not hold, because the being of things in the world depends not on our ideas : the latter, indeed, is true in some degree, but is no fault ; for it is certain, that where we have imperfect, inadequate, confused, obscure ideas, we cannot discourse and reason about those things so well, fully, and clearly, as if we had perfect, adequate, clear, and distinct ideas. Other objections are made against the following parts of this para^ graph, by that reverend prelate, viz., "The repetition of the story of the Indian philosopher, and the talking like children about substance : " to which our author replies : — ** Your lordship, I must own, with great reason, takes notice, that I paralleled, more than once, our idea of substance with the Indian phi- losopher's Hc-knew-not-what, which supported the tortoise, &c. "This repetition, is, I confess a fault in exact vmting ; but I have acknowledged and excused it in these words, in my preface : ' I am not ignorant how little I herein consult my own reputation, when I know- ingly let my Essay go with a fault so apt to disgust the most judi- cious, who are always the nicest readers.' And there further add, * That I did not publish my Essay for such great masters of knowledge as your lordship : but fitted it to men of my own size, to whom repetitions might be sometimes useful.' It would not, therefore, have been beside your lordship's generosity, (who were not intended to be provoked by the repetition,) to have passed by such a fault as this, in one who pretends not beyond the lower rank of writers. But I see your lordship would have me exact, and without any faults : and I wish I could be so, the better to deserve your lordship's approbation. " My saying, ' That when we talk of substance, we talk like children who, being asked a question about something which they know not, readily give this satisfactory answer. That it is something;' your lord- ship seems mightily to lay to heart in these words that follow ; ' If tliis be the truth of the case, we must still talk like children, and I know not how it can be remedied. For if we cannot come at a rational idea of substance, we can have no principle of certainty to go upon in this debate.' " If your lordship has anv better and distincter idea of substance tliau '^ a2 356 APPENDIX mine is, which 1 hare ^ven an account of, your lordship is not «t aD concerned in what I have there said. But those whose idea of sub- stance, whether a rational or not rational idea, is like mine, something, they know not what, must in that, with me, talk like children, when they speak of something, they know not what. For a philosoplier that says, that which supports accidents is something he knows not what, and a countryman that says, the foundation of the great church at Haarlem is supported by something, he knows not what ; and a child that stands in the dark, upon his mother's muflf, and says he stands upon something, he knows not what; in this respect talk all three alike. But if the countryman knows that the foundation of the church at Haarlem is supported by a rock, as the houses about Bristol are ; or by gravel, as the houses about London are ; or by wooden piles, as the houses in Amsterdam are ; it is plain, that, then having a clear and distinct idea of the thing that supports the church, he does not talk of this matter as a child ; nor will he of the support of accidents, when he has a clearer and more distinct idea of it, than that it is barely something. But as long as we think like children, in cases where our ideas are no clearer nor distincter than theirs, I agi-ee with your lordship, that I know not how it can be remedied, but that we must talk like them." Further, the bishop asks, "Whether there be no difference between the bare being of a thing, and its subsistence by itself? " To which our author answers ; "Yes.* But what will that do to prove, that, upon my principles, we can come to no certainty of reason, that there is any such thing as s\ibstance? You seem by this question to conclude, that the idea of a thing that subsists by itself^ is a clear and distinct idea of substance ; but I beg leave to ask. Is the idea of the manner of sub- sistence of a thing, the idea of the thing itself? If it be not, we may have a clear and distinct idea of the manner, and yet have none but a very obscure and confused one of the thing. For example : I tell your lordship, that I know a thing that cannot subsist without a support, and I know another thing that does subsist without a support, and say no more of them ; can you, by having the clear and distinct ideas of having a support, and not having a support, say, that you have a clear and distinct idea of the thing, that I know which has, and of the thing that I know which has not a support ? If your lordship can, I beseech you to give me the clear and distinct ideas of these, which I only call by the general name, things, that have or have not supports : for such there are, and such I shall give your lordship clear and distinct ideas of, when you shall please to call upon me for them ; though I think your lordship will scarcely find them by the general and confused idea of things, nor in the clearer and more distinct idea of having or not having a support " To show a blind man that he has no clear and distinct idea of scarlet, I tell him, that his notion of it, that it is a thing or being, , does not prove that he has any clear or distinct idea of it ; but barely that he takes it to be something, he knows not what. He replies. That htt knows more than that, v. g., he knows that it subsists, or inheres in another thing ; and is there no difference, says he, in your lordship'.s words, between ihe bare being of a thing, and its sutelstence in an- * Mr. Locke's Third Letter. APPEJTDIX. 35'f otlier! Tee, aay I to him, a great deal ; they are rei-y different ideas. But for all that, you have no clear and distinct idea of scarlet, nor such a one as I have, who see and know it^ and have another kind of idea of it, besides that of inherence, " Your lordship has the idea of subsisting by itself, and therefore, you conclude, you have a clear and distinct idea of the thing that sub- sists by itself; which, ■aaethinks, is all one, as if your countryman should say, he hath an idea of a cedar of Leban jn, that it is a tree of n nature to need no prop to lean on for its support ; therefore, he hath a clear and distinct idea of a cedar of Lebanon ; which clear and dis- tinct idea, when he comes to examine, is nothing but a general one of a tree, with which his indetermined idea of a cedar is confounded. Juat so if* the idea of substance ; which, however, called clear and distinct, is confounded with the general indetermined idea of something. But sup- pose that the manner of subsisting by itself, gives us a clear and distinct idea of substance, how does that prove, that upon my principles, we can come to no cei*tainty of reason, that there is any such thing as substance in the world? Which is the proposition to be proved. No. VI VoL L p. 482, par. 29. " Give me leave, my lord," says Mr. Locke, in his answer to the Bishop of Worcester, "to say, that the reason of believing any article of the Christian faith (such as your lordship is here speaking of) to me, and upon my grounds, is its being a part of divine revelation : upon this ground I believed it, before I either wrote that chapter on identity and divei'sity, and before I ever thought of those propositions which your loi-dship quotes out of tiat chapter ; and upon the same ground 1 believe it still ; and not from my idea of identity. This saying of your lordship's, therefore, being a proposition neither self-evident, nor allowed by me to be true, remains to be proved. So that your foundation failing, ail your large superstructure built thereon comes to nothing. " But, my lord, before we go any further, 1 crave leave humbly to represent to your lordship, that I thought you undertook to make out, tiiat my notion of ideas was inconsistent with the articles of the Christian faith. But that which your lordship instances in here, is not, that I yet know, an article of the Christian faith. The resurrection of the dead, I acknowledge to be an article of the Christian faith ; but that the resurrection of the same body, in your lordship's sense of the sam*) body, is an article of the Christian faith, is what, I confess, I do not yet know. " In the New Testament (wherein I think are contained all the articles of the Christian faith) I find our Saviour and the apostles, to preach the resurrection of the dead, and the resurrection from the dead, in manv places ; but I do not remember any place where the resurrection of the same body is so much as mentioned. Nay, which is very remarkable ni the case, I do not remember in any place of the New Testament (where the general resurrection of the last day is spoken of) any such expression OA the resurrection of the body, much less of the same body. " I say the general resurrection at the last day; because where the lesui-rtction of some pai-«?«ular persons, presently upon om- Saviour's 353 APPENDIX. .'estnTetftioTi, is mentioned, the words are,* 'The graves were openetj, Kid many bodies of saints, which slept, arose, and came out of tho graves, after Ms resuiTeotion, and went into the Holy City, and apptared to many : ' of which peculiar way of speaking of this resurrection, the passage itself gives a reason in these words, appeared to many, i.e., those who slept appeared, so as to be known to be risen. Bat this could not be known, unless they brought with them the evidence that they were those who had been dead ; whereof there were these two proofs, _ their graves were opened, and their bodies not only gone out of them, but appeared to be the same to those who had known tliem formerly ■dive, and knew them to be dead and buried. For if they had been those who had been dead so long, that all who knew them once alive, were now gone, those to whom they appeared might have known there to be men ; but could not have known they were risen from the dead, because they never knew they had been dead. All that by their appear- ing they could have known was, that they were so many living strangers, of whose resurrection they knew nothing. It was necessary, therefore, that they should come in such bodies as might, in make and size, &c., appear to be the same they had before, that they might be known to those of their acquaintance whom they appeared to. And it is probable they were such as were newly dead, whose bodies were not yet dissolved and dissipated ; and, therefore, it is particularly said here {differently from what is said of the general resuiTeetion) that their bodies arose ; because they were the same that were then lying in then" graves, the moment before they arose. " But your lordship endeavours to prove it must be the same body; and let us grant that your lordship, nay, and others too, think you have proved it must be the same body ; will you therefore say, that he holds what is inconsistent with an article of faith who, having never seen this j^our lordship's interpretation of the Scripture, nor your reasons for the same body, in your sense of same body; or, if he has seen them, yet not understanding them, or not pei'ceiving the force of them, believes what the Scripture proposes to him, viz., 'That at the last day, the dead shall be raised,' without deteimining whether it shall be with the very same bodies or not? ' ' I know your lordship pretends not to erect your partioulaa' inter- pretations of Scripture into articles of faith. And if you do not, he that believes the dead shall be raised, believes that article of faith that the Scripture proposes ; and cannot be accused of holding anything incon- sistent with it, if it should happen, that what he holds is inconsistent with another proposition, viz., ' That the dead shall be raised with the same bodies, ' in your lordship's sense, which I do not find proposed in Holy Writ as an article of faith. " But your lordship argues. It must be the same body; which, as you explain same body,t is not the same individual particles of matter which were united at the point of death ; nor the same particles of matter that the sinner had at the time of the commission of his sins : but that it must be the same material substance which was vitally united to the soul here ; i. c. , aa I understand it, the same individual • Matt, xxvii. 62. 53. + Second Answw. particles of matter which were some time or other, duiing his life aere, vitally united to his soul. *' Your Mrst argument to prove that it must he the same body, in this tense of the same body, is taken from these words of our Saviour, * 'All that are in the graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth :t from whence your lordship argues, that these words, * All that are in their ■graves,' relate to no other substance than what was united to the soul in life ; because, ' a different substance cannot be said to be in the graves and to come out of them.' \Miich words of your lordshiji's, if they prove anything, prove that the soid too is lodged in the grave, and raised out of it at the last day. For your lordship says, ' Can a different substance be said to be in the graves, and come out of them ? ' so that, according to this interpretation of these words of our Saviour, * no other substance being raised but what hears his voice ; and no other substance hearing his voice but what, being called, comes out of the grave ; and no other substance coming out of the grave, but what ivas in the grave;' any one must conclude, that the soul, unless it be in the grave, will make no part of the person that fs raised, unless as your lordship argues against me, J you can make it out, that a substance which never was in the grave, may come out of it, or that the soul is no substance. "But, setting aside the substance of the soul, another thing that will make any one doubt whether this your interpretation of our Saviour's words be necessary to be received as their true sense, is, that it will not be very easily reconciled to your saying, II you do not mean by the same body, the same individual particles which were united at the point of death. And yet by this interpretation of our Saviour's woi'ds, you can mean no other particles but such as were united at the point of death ; because you mean no other substance but what comes out of the grave; and no substance, no paiticlee come out, you say, but what were in the grave ; and I think your lordship will not say that the particles that were separate from the body by perspiration before the point of death, were laid up in the grave. "But your lordship, I find, has an answer to this, viz.,§ That, by comparing this with other places, you find that the words (of our Saviour above quoted) are to be understood of the substance of the body to which the soul was united, and not to (I suppose your lordship wrote, of) those individual particles, i. e., those individual particles that are in the grave at the resurrection. For so they must be read, to make your lordship's sense entire and to the purpose of your answer here; and then, me- thinks, this last sense of our Saviour's words, given by your lordship, wholly overturns the sense which we have given of them above, where, from those words, you -preaa the belief of the resurrection of the same body, by this strong argument, that a substance could not, upon hearii.g the voice of Christ, come out of the grave, which was never in the grave. There (as far as I can understand your words) your lordship argues, that our Saviour's words are to be understood of the particles in tho grave, unless, as your lorOship says, one can make it out, that a sub- stance which never was in the grave may come out of it. And hert^ • John, y. 38, 29. t Second Answer. J Ibid, tl Ibid. § Ibid. 3S0 APPENDIX. your lordship expraasly says, ' That oiir Saviour's words are to be un- derstood of the substance of that body, to which the soul wag (at any time> united, and not to those individual particles that are in the grave.' Which, put together, seems to me to say. That our Saviour's words are to be understood of those particles only which are in the grave, and not of those particles only which are in the grave, but of others also, which have at any time been vitally united to the soul, but never were in the grave. ' ' The next text your lordship brings to make the resurrection of the same body in your sense, an article of faith, are these words of St. Paul: * ' For we must all appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad ' To which your lordship subjoins this question ;+ ' Can these words be understood of any other material substance, but that body in which these things wwe done ? ' Answer : A man may suspend his determining the meaning of the apostle to be, that a sinner shall suffer for his sins, in the very same body wherein he committed them; because St. Paul does not say he shall have the very same body when he suffers, that he had when he sinned. The apostle says, indeed, done in his body. The body he had, and did things in at five or fifteen, was, no doubt, his body, as much as that which he did things in at fifty was his body, though his body were not the veiy same body at those different ages ; and so will the body which he shall have after the resurrection be his body, though it be not the very same with that which he had at five, or fifteen, or fifty. He that at threescore is broken on the wheel for a murder he committed at twenty, is punished for what he did in his body though the body he has, i. e., his body at threescore, be not the same, i. e., made up of the same individual particles of matter that that body was which he had forty years before. When your lordship has resolved with yourself, what that same immutable he is which, at the last judgment, shall receive the things done in his body, your lordship will easily see, that the body he had when an embryo in the womb, when a child playing in petticoats, when a man marrying a wife, and when bed- rid dying of a consumption, and at last, which he shall have after his resurrection, are each of them his body, though neither of them be the same body the one with the other. "But further, to your lordship's question, ' Can these words be un- derstood of any other material substance, but that body in which these things were done ? ' I answer. These words of St. Paul may be under- stood of another material substance than that body in which these things were done, because your lordship teaches me, and gives me a strong reason so to understand them. Your lordship says,$ ' That you do not say the same particles of matter which the sinner had at the very time of the commission of his sins, shall be raised at the last day.' And your lordship gives this reason for it ; § ' For then a long sinner must have a vast body, considering the continued spending of particles by per- spiration.' Now, my lord, if the apostle's words, as your lordship would argue, cannot be understood of any other material substance but that * 2 Cor. v. 10. + Second Answer, ? Ibic . § IbiJ. APPENDIX. 361 booy in which these things were done : and no body, upon the removal or cliange of some of the particles that at any time make it up, is the Bame material substance, or the same body, it will, I think, thenca follow that either the sinner must have all the same individual particles vitally united to his soul when he is raised, that he had vitally united to his soul when he sinned ; or else St Paul's words here cannot be understood to mean the same body in which the things were done. For if there were other particles of matter in the body, wherein the things were done, than in that which is raised, that which is raised cannot be the same body in which they were done ; unless that alone, which has just all the same individual particles, when any action is done, being the same body wherein it was done, that also, which has not the san>e individual particles wherein that action was done, can be the same body wherein it was done ; which is, in eifect, to make the same body some- timea to be the same, and sometimes not the same. " Your lordship thinks it suflSces to make the same body to have not all, but no other particles of matter, but such as were some time or other vitally united to the soul before ; but such a body made up of part of the particles some time or other vitally united to the soul, is no more the same body, wherein the actions were done in the distant parts of the long sinners life, than that is the same body in which a quai*ter, or half, or three quarters of the same particles, that made it up, are wanting, For example : A sinner has acted here in his body a hundred years j he is raised at the last day, but with what body? The same, says your lordship, that he acted in ; because St. Paul says, he must receive the things done in his body. What, therefore, must his body at the resur- rection consist of? Must it consist of all the particles of matter that have ever been vitally united to his soul? For they, in succession, have all of them made up his body, wherein he did these things : * No, * says your lordship,* 'that would make his body too vast; it suffices to make the same body in which the things were done, that it consists of some of the particles and no other, but such as were, some time duiing his life, vitally united to his soul.' But, according to this account, his body at the resurrection being, as your lordship seems to limit it, near the same size it was in some part of his life ; it will be no more the same body in which the things were done in the distant paits of his life, than that is the same body in which half, or three quarters, or more, of the individual matter that then made it up, is now wanting. For example, let his boi body he shall appear, or of what particles made up, the Scripture bavnig Baid nothing, but that it shall be a spii'itual body raised in ino^r uptioc., it is njt for me to deternino. APPENDIX. 365 "Your lordship asks,* ' AVere they (who saw our Saviour after his reaurrection) witnesses only of some material substiince then united to his soul?' In answer, I heg your lordship to consider, whether you but> pose our Saviour was to be known to be the same man (to the witnesses that were to see him, and testify his resurrection) by his soul, that could neither be seen or known to be the same: or by his body, that could be seen, and by the discernible structure and marks of it, be known to be the same? When your lordship has resolved that, all that you say in that page will answer itself. But becaiise one man cannot know another to be the same, but by the outwai-d visible lineaments, and sen- sible marks he has been wont to be known and distinguished by, will your lordship, therefore, argue that the Great Judge, at the last day, who gives to each man whom he raises his new body, shall not be able to know who is who, unless he gives to every oue of them a body, just of the same figure, size, and features, and made up of the very sam« individual particles he had in his former life? Whether such a way of arguing for the resurrection of the same body, to be an article of faith, contributes much to the strengthening the credibility of the article of the resurrection of the dead, I shall leave to the judgment of others. " Further, for the proving the resun'ection of the sauie body, to be an article of faith, your lordship says,+ ' But the apostle insists upon the resurrection of Christ, not merely as an argument of the possibility of ouiB, but of the certainty of it, J because he rose as the first-fruits; Christ the first-fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming.' Answer. No doubt the resuirection of Christ is a proof of the certainty of our resun'ection. But is it therefore a proof of the resurrection of the same body consisting of the same individual pai tides, which con- curred to the making up of our body here, without the mixture of any other particle of matter? I confess I see no such consequence. " But your lordship goes on : § ' St. Paul was aware of the objections in men's minds about the resurrection of the same body ; and it is of great consequence as to this article, to show upon what grounds he pro- ceeds : ' But some men will say, how are the dead raised up, and witk what body do they come?' First, he shows, that the seminal parts of plants are wonderfully improved by the ordinary providence of God, in the manner of their vegetation.' Answer. I do not perfectly understand, what it is ' for the seminal parts of plants to be wonderfully improved by the ordinary providence of God, in the manner of their vegetation ; ' or else, perhaps, I should better see how this here tends to the proof of the resuiTeotion of the same body in your lordship's sense. "It continues, II 'They sow bare grain of wheat, or of some other giuin, but God giveth it a body, as it hath pleased him, and to every seed his own body. Here,' says your lordship, 'is an identity of the material substance supposed.' It may be so. But to me a diversity of the material substance, i. e., of the component particles, is here supposed, or in direct words said. For the words of St. Paul taken altogether run thus : 11 ' That which thou sowest, thou sowest not that body that shall be, but bare grain:' and so on, as your lordship has set down ii> the remainder of them. From which words cf St. Paul, the natural • Second Answer. t Ibid. t 1 Cor. xv. 20. 23. 8 Second Answer II Ib'i H V. 37. SSd APPENDIX. ai'giidienc seems to me to stand thus ; If the body that is put in the earth in sowing, is not that body which shall be, then the body that in put in the grave, is not that, i. e., the same body that shall be. " But your lordship proves it to be the same body, by these three Greek words of the text, to 'iBiov aui/ia, which your lordship interprets thus ; * ' that proper body which belongs to it.' Answer. Indeed by those Greek words, to iSiov (Tui/xa, whether our translators have rightly rendered them 'his own body,' or your lordship more rightly, 'that proper body which belongs to it, ' I formerly understood no more but ibis, that in the production of wheat, and other grain from seed, God con- tinued every species distinct; so that from grains of wheat sown, root, stalk, blade, ear, grains of wheat were prodi*ced, and not those of barley, 'tnd so of the rest, which I took to be the meaning of, to every seed his own body. ' No, ' says your lordship, ' these words prove, that to every plant of wheat, and to every grain of wheat produced in it, is given the proper body that belongs to it, which is the same body with the gi-ain that was sown.' A.nswer. This I confess, I do not undei-stand ;■ because I do not understand how one individual grain can be the same with twenty, fifty, or a hundred individual grains ; for such sometimes is the increase. "But your lordship proves it. 'For,' says your lordship, + 'every seed having that body in little, which is afterwards so much enlarged ; and in grain, the seed is corrupted before its germination ; but it hath its proper organioal parts, which make it the same body with that which it grows up to. For, although grain be not divided into lobes, as other seeds are, yet it hath been found, by the most accurate observations, that upon separating the membranes, these seminal parts are disceraed in them; which aftei-wards grow up to that body which we call com." In which words I beg leave to obsei-ve, that your lordship supposes that a body may be enlarged by the addition of a hundred or a thousand times as much in bulk as its ovm matter, and yet continue the same body; which I confess I cannot understand. "But, in the next place, if that could be so, and that the plant in its full growth at harvest, increased by a thousand or million of times as much new matter added to it, as it had when it lay a little concealed in the grain that was sown, was the veiy same body ; yet I do not think that your lordship will say that evei-y minute, insensible, and incon- ceivably small grain of the hundred grains, contained in that little organized seminal plant, is evei-y one of them the very same with that> grain which contains that whole little seminal plant, and all those in- visible grains in it. For, then, it will follow, that one grain is the same with a hundred, and a hundred distinct grains the same with one ; which I shall be able to assent to, when I can conceive, that all the wheat in the world is but one grain. ' ' For I beseech you, my lord, consider what it is St. Paul here speaks of : it is plain he speaks of that which is sown and dies, i. e., the grain that the husbandman takes out of his bam to sow in his field, and ol this grain St. Paul says, 'that it is not that body that shall be.' These hvo, viz., 'that which is sown, and that body that shall be,' are all tb« ■* Second Answei , t Ibid. APPExrvix 367" bodiea that St. Paul here speaks of, to represent the agreement or dif- ference of men's bodies after the resurrection, with those they had before they died. Now, I crave leave to ask yom- lordship, which of these two 18 that little invisible seminal plant which your lordship here speaks of? Does your lordship mean by it the grain that is sown ? But that is not what St. Paul speaks of; he could not mean this embryonated little plant, for he could not denote it by these words, 'that which thou sowest,' for that, he says, must die: but this little embryonated plant, contained in the seed that is sown, dies not: or does your lordship mean by it, 'the body that shall be?' But neither by these words, ' the body that shall be, ' can St. Paul be supposed to denote this insen- sible little embryonated plant ; for that is already in being, contained in the seed that is sown, and therefore, could not be spoken of under the name of ' the body that shall be.' And, therefore, I confess I cannot see of what use it is to your lordship to introduce here this third body, which St. Paul mentions not, and to make that the same, or not the same, with any other, when those which St. Paul speaks of are, as I humbly conceive, these two visible sensible bodies, the grain sown, and the com grown up to ear : with neither of which this insensible embryo- nated plant can be the same body, unless an insensible body can be the same body with a sensible body, and a little body can be the same body with one ten thousand, or a hundred thousand times as big as itself. So that yet, I confess, I see not the resurrection of the same body proved, from these words of St. Paul, to be an article of faith. " Your lordship goes on : * ' St. Paul indeed saith, ' That we sow not that body that shall be;' but he speaks not of the identity, but the perfection of it. Here my understanding fails me again : for I cannot understand St. Paul to say. That the same identical sensible grain o£ wheat, which was sown at seed-time, is the very same with every grain of wheat in the ear at harvest, that sprang from it: yet, so I must under-- stand it, to make it prove that the same sensible body that is laid in the grave, shall be the very same with that which shall be raised at the resurrection. For I do not know of any seminal body in little, con- tamed in the dead carcass of any man or woman, which, as your lordship says, in seeds, having its proper organical parts, shall afterwards be enlarged, and at the resurrection grow up into the same man. For I never thought of any seed or seminal parts, either of plant or animal, ' so wonderfully improved by the providence of God, ' whereby the same ?lant or animal should beget itself; nor ever heard that it was by Hvine Providence designed to produce the same individual, but for the producing of future and distinct individuals, for the continuation of the same species. " Tour lordship's next words are,t 'And although there be such a difference from the grain itself, when it comes up to be perfect com, with root, stalk, blade, and ear, that it may be said to outward appearance not to be the same body ; yet with regard to the seminal and organical parts, it is as much the same, as a man grown up is the same with the embryo in the womb. ' Answer. It does not appear, by anything I can find in the text, that St. Paul here compaied the body produced, * Second Answer. + Ibid- 3G8 APPENDIX. with the seminal and organical parts contained in the grain it 8]>raug from, but with the whole sensible grain that waa sown. Microscoims had not then discovered the little embryo plant in the seed : and sup- ))Osing it should have been revealed to St. Paul, (though in the Scrip- ture -we find little revelation of natural philosophy,) yet an argument taken from a thing perfectly unknown to the Corinthians, whom hfl wrote to, could be of no manner of use to them : nor serve at all either to instruct or convince them. But granting that those St. Paul wrote to, knew it as well as Mr. Lewenhoek ; yet your lordship thereby proves not the raising of the same body : your lordship says : ' It is as much the same' (I crave leave to add body) ' as a man grown up is the same' (same what, I beseech your lordship?) 'with the embryo in the womb.' For that the body of the embryo in the womb, and body of the man grown up, is the same body, I think no one will say ; unless he can persuade himself, that a body that is not the hundredth part of another, is the same with that other; which I think no one will do tiU, having renounced this dangerous way by ideas of thinking and reasoning, he has learned to say, that a part and the whole are the same. " Your lordship goes on:" 'And although many arguments may be used to prove that a man is not the same, because life, which depends upon the course of the blood and the manner of respiration and nutrition, is so different in both states : yet that man would be thought ridiculous, that should seriously affirm, that it was not the same man.' And your lordship says, ' I grant, that the variation of great particles of matter in plants, alters not the identity : and that the organization of the parts in one coherent body, partaking of one common life, makes the identity of a plant. ' Answer. My lord, I think the question is not about the same man, but the same body. For, though I do say,t (somewhat differently from what your lordship sets down as my words here,) 'That that which has such an organization, as is fit to receive and distribute nourishment, so as to continue and frame the wood, bark, and leaves, &c., of a plant in which consists the vegetable life, continues to be the same plant, as long as it partakes of the same life, though that life be communicated to new particles of matter, vitaUy united to the hving plant ; ' yet, I do not remember that I anywhere say, ' That a plant, ' which was once no larger than an oaten straw, and afterwards grows to be above a fathom about, is the same body, though it be stiQ the same plant.' " The well-known tree in Epping Forest, called the King's Oak, which, from not weighing an ounce at first, grew to have many tons of timber in it, was all along the same oak, the very same plant; but no- body, I think, will say that it was the same body, when it weighed a ton, as it was when it weighed but an ounce ; unless he has a mind to signalize himself by saying. That that is the same body which has a thousand particles of different matter in it, for one particle that is the same ; which is no better than to say, That a thousand different particles are but one and the same -)artiole, and one and the same particle is a thousand different particles ; a thousand times a greater absurdity, than * Second Answer. t Essay, B. 2. c. 27. par. 4. APPENDIX. 369 to Bay half Is the whole^ oi the whole is the same with the half; which will be improved ten thousand times yet further, if a man shall say, (as your lordship seems *-.o me to argue here,) that that groat oak is the very same body with the acorn it sprang from, because there was in that acorn an oak in little, which was afterwards (as your lordship ex- presses it) so much enlarged as to make that mighty tree. For this embryo, if I may so call it, or oak in little, being not the hundredth, or perhaps, the thousandth part of the acorn, and the acorn being not the thousandth part of the grown oak, it will be very extraordinai-y to prove the acorn and the grown oak to be the same body, by a way wherein it cannot be pretended, that above one particle of a hundred thousand, or a million, is the same in the one body that it was in the other. From which way of reasoning it will follow, that a nurse and her sucking child have the same body ; and be past doubt, that a mothei and her infant have the same body. But this ie a way of certainty, found out to establish the articles of faith, and to overturn the new method of certainty that your lordship says I have started, which is apt to leave men's minds more doubtful than before. *' And now I t'esire your lordship to consider of what use it is to you, in the present case, to quote out oi my Essay these words : ' That par- taking of one common life, makes the identity of a plant ; ' since the question is not about the identity of a plant, but about the identity of a body. It being a very different thing to be the same plant, and to be the same body. For that which makes the same plant does not make the same body ; the one being the partaking in the same continued vege- table life; the other, the consisting of the same numerical particles of matter. And, therefore, your lordship's inference from my words above quoted, in these which you subjoin,* seems to me a veiy strange one, viz., 'So that in things capable of any sort of life, the identity is con- sistent with a continued succession of pai-ts : and so the wheat gi'own up is the same body with the grain that was sown. ' For I believe, if my words, from which you infer, * and so the wheat grown up is the same body with the grain that was sown, ' were put into a syllogiam, this would hardly be brought to be the conclusion. " But your lordship goes on with consequence upon consequence, though I have not eyes acute enough everywhere to see the connexion, till you bring it to the resurrection of the same body. The connexion of your lordship's words t is as followeth : ' And thus the alteration of the parts of the body at the resurrection, is consistent with its identity, if its organization and life be the same ; and this is a real identity of the body, which depends not upon consciousness. From whence it follows, that to make the same body, no more is required, but restoring life to the organized parts of it.' If the question were about raising the same plant, I do not say but there might be some appearance for making such an inference from my words as this, ' Whence it follows, that to make the same plant, no more is required but to restore life to the organized parts of it.' But this deduction, wherein from those words of mine, that speak only of the identity of a plant, your lordship infers, there is no more required to make the same body, than to * Second Answer. t Ibid. VOL. II, 2 R 370 APPENDIX. mabe the same plant, being too subtle for mo, I leave to my reader to find out. " Your lordship goes on and saya,* 'That I grant likewise, that the identity of the same man consists in a participation of the same con- tinued life, by constantly fleeting particles of matter in succession, vitally united to the same organized body.' Answer. I spealc in these words of the identity of the same man, and your lordship thence roundly concludes; 'so that there is no difficulty of the sameness of the body.' , But your lordship knows, that I do not take these two sounds, man and body, to stand for the same thing ; nor the identity of the man to be the same with the identity of the body. " But let us read out your lordship's word3.+ ' So that there is no difficulty as to the sameness of the body, if life were continued : and if, by Divine Power, life be restored to that material substance, which was before united by a reunion of the soul to it, there is no reason to deny the identity of the body, not from the consciousness of the soul, but from that life which is the result of the union of tbe soul and body. ' " If I understand your lordship right, you, in these words, from the passages above quoted out of my book, argue, that from those words of mine it will follow, ' That it is or may be the same body that is raised at the resurrection.' If so, my lord, your lordship has then proved. That my book is not inconsistent with, but conformable to, this article of the resurrection of the same body, which your lordship contends for, and will have to be an article of faith : for though I do by no means deny that the naiue bodies shall be raised at the last day, yet I see nothing your lordship has said to prove it to be an article of faith. ' ' But your lordship goes on with your proofs, and says, + ' But St. Paul still supposes, that it must be that material substance to which the s&\x\ was before united. ' For, ' saith he, ' it is sown in coiTuption, it is raised in incuri-uption : it is sown in dishonour, it is raised in glory: it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power : it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body. Can such a material substance, which waa never united to the body, be said to be sown in corruption, and weak- ness, and dishonour? either, therefore, he must speak nf the same body, or his meaning cannot be comprehended.' I answer, ' Can such a ma- terial substance, which was never laid in the grave, be said to be sown?* &c. For your lordship says, § 'You do not say the same individual particles, which were united at the point of death, shall be raised at the last day ; ' and no other particles are laid in the grave, but such as are united at the point of death ; either, therefore, your lordship must speak o*' another body, different from that which was sown, which shall be raised, or else your meaning, I think, cannot be compreherded. "But whatever be your meaning, your lordship proves it to be St. Paul's meaning, that the same body shall be raised, which was sotra, in these following words : || ' For what does all this relate to a conscious prin- ciple?' Answer. The Scripture being express. That the same person should be raised and appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that eveiy one may receive according to what he had done in his body ; it was very well suited to couunon apprehensions, (which refineki uot ivbout * Second Ansvver. t Ibid. t Ibvi. % Ibid. L Ibid. APPENDIX. 37i 'particlea that liad been vitally united to the soul,') to speak of the body, ■which each one was to have after the resurrection, as he would be apt to Bpeak of it himself. For it being hia body both before and after tlie resurrection, every one ordinarily speaks of his body as the same, though in a strict and philosophical sense, as your lordship speaks, it be not the very same. Thus it is no impropriety of speech to say, This body of mine, which was formerly strong and plump, is now weak and wasted, though, in such a sense as you are speaking here, it be not the same body. Revelation declares nothing anywhere concerning the same body, in your loidship's sense of the same body, which appears not to have been thought of. Hie apostle directly proposes nothing for or against the same body, as necessai-y to be beUeved ; that which he is plain and direct in, is, hia opposing and condemning such curious questions about the body, which could serve only to perplex, not to confirm, what was material and necessary for them to believe, vi«., a day of judgment and retributiot tc- men in a future state ; and, therefore, it is no wonder tbat, in<>utionmg theij bodies, he should use a. way of speaking, suited to vulgar notions, from which it would be hard positively to conclude anything for the determining of this question (especially against expres- sions in the same discourse that plainly incline to the other aide) in a matter which, as it appears, the apostle thought not necessary to de- termine ; and the Spiiit of Grod thought not fit to gratify any one's curiosity in. "But your lordship says,* 'The apostle speaks plainly of that body which was once quickened, and afterwards falls to corruption, and is to be restored with more noble qualities.' I wish your lordship had quoted the words of St. Paul, wherein he speaks plainly of that numeiical body that was once quickened, they would presently decide this question. But your lordship proves it by these following words of St. Paul : ' For this corruption must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality;' to which your lordship adds, that 'you do not see how he could more expressly affirm the identity of this corruptible body, with that after the resurrection.' How expressly it is affirmed by the apostle, shall be considered by and by. In the meantime, it is past doubt that your lordship best knows what you do or do not see. But this I would be bold to say, that if St. Paul had anywhere in this chapter (where there are so many occasions for it, if it had been necessary to have been believed,) but said in express words, that the same bodies should be raised, every one else, who thinks of it, will see he had more expressly affirmed the identity of the bodies which men now have, with those the* shall have after the resurrection. "The remainder of your lordship's period is:+ "And that without any respect to the principle of self- consciousness.' Answer. These words, I doubt not, have some meaning, but I must own I know not what ; either towards the proof of the resurrection of the same body, or to show that anything I have said concerning self-consciousness is incon- sistent; for I do not remember that I have anywhere said that tha identity of body consisted in self-consciousness. ■ From your preceding words, your lordship concludes thus : X Aai * Second Aniswer. + Ibid. t Ibii':. i-B 2 372 APPENDIX. BO if the Scripture be the sole foundation of om faith, this is an aTticfe of it.* My lord, to make the conclusion unquestionable, I humbly con- ceive the words must run thus ; And so if the Scripture, and your lord- ship's interpretation of it, be the sole foundation of our faith, the re- suirection of the same body is an article of it. For, with submission, your lordship has neither produced express words of Scripture for it, nor so proved that to be the meaning of any of those words of Scripture which you have produced for it, that a man who reads and sincerely endeavours to understand the Scripture, cannot but find himself obliged to belie^'•^ as expressly, that the same bodies of the dead, in your lord- ship's sense, shall be raised, as that the dead shall be raised. And I crave leave to give your lordship this one reason for it. He who reads with attention this discourse of St. Paul,* where he discourses of the resurrection, will see that he plainly distinguishes between the dead that shall be raised, and the bodies of the dead. For it i's viKpoi, wavTig, 01, are the nominative causes to t tyiifyovTat, ^iaoiroiriBr)aovTai, iyip- QrjtTOVTaL, all along, and not atofiaTo, bodies ; which one may with reason think would somewhere or other have been expressed, if all this had been said to propose it as an article of fadth, that the very same bodies should be raised. The same manner of speaking the Spirit of God observes all through the New Tfatameut, where it is said, J raise the dead, quicken or make alive the dead, the resurrection of the dead. Nay, these very words of our Saviour, II urged by your lordship, for the resurrection of the same body, run thus : ITaiTf^ ot ev toIq fxvrifXiioiQ aKovuovTai Trjg fpuiviJQ dvTov. Kai iKiropivuovrai, ol tcl ayaQa TrofqrjavTi^ tiQ CLvdaTaoiv 'CitiriQ, ot Si rd. ipavXa irpd^avTes €ig dva(jraaiv KpiGitaQ. Would not a well-meaning searcher of the Scriptures be apt to think, that if the thing here intended by our Saviour were to teach and pro- pose it as an article of faith, necessary to be believed by every one, that the very same bodies of the dead should be raised ; would not, I eay, any one be apt to think, that if our Saviour meant so, the words should rather have been, iravra rd (T(xifiaTa 8. Iv Totg fivrjfiuoiQf i e., all the bodies that are in the graves, rather than all who are in the graves ; which must denote persons, and not precisely bodies ? " Another evidence that St. Paul makes a distinction between the dead, and the bodies of the dead, so that the dead cannot be taken in this, 1 Cor. XV. , to stand precisely for the bodies of the dead, are these words of the apostle :§ 'But some man will say, how are the dead raised ? and with what bodies do they come ? ' Which words, dead and they, if supposed to stand precisely for the bodies of the dead, the question will run thus: How are the dead bodies raised? and with what bodies do the dead bodies come ? Which seems to have no very agreeable sense. ' ' This therefore being so, that the Spirit of God keeps so expressly to this phrase or form of speaking, in the New Testament, *of raising, quickening, rising, resurrection, &o., of the dead,' where the resurrection of the last day is spoken of ; and that the body is not mentioned, hut * 1 Cor. XV. + Ver. 15. 22. 23. 29. 32. 35. 52. t Matt, xi-ii. 31. Markxii. 26. John v. 21. Acts xvi. 7. Bom. iv. 17, 2 Cor. i. 9. 1 Theas iv. 14. 16. || John v. 28. 29. § Ver. 35. iPPBKDix. 373 iu answer to this question, 'With what bodies shall thoae dead, who are raised, come?' so that by the dead cannot precisely be meant the dead bodies ; I do not see but a good Christian, who reads the Sci-ipture with an intention to believe all that is there revealed to him, concerning the resurrection, may acquit himself of his duty therein, without enter- ing into the inquiry, whether the dead shall have the very same bodies or not! which sort of inquiry, the apostle, by the appellation he bestows here on him that makes it, seems not much to encourage. Nor, if he shall think himself bound to determine concerning the identity of the bodies of the dead, raised at the last day ; will he, by the remainder of St. Paul's answer, find the determination of the apostle to be much in favoui of the very same body, unless the being told, that the body sown is not that body that shall be ; that the body raised is as different from that which was laid down, as the flesh of man is from the flesh of beasts, fishes, and bii'ds ; or as the sun, moon, and stars, are different one from another ; or as diS'erent as a corruptible, weak, natural, mortal body, is from an incorruptible, powerful, spiritual, immortal body; and, lastly, as different as a body that is flesh and blood, is from a body that is not flesh and blood.' 'For flesh and blood cannot,' says St. Paul, in this very place,* 'inherit the kingdom of God; ' unless, I say, all this, which is contained in St. Paul's words, can be supposed to be the way to deliver this as an article of faith, which is required to be believed by every one, viz., That the dead should be raised with the very same bodies that they had before in this life ; which article proposed in these or the like plain and express words, could have left no room for doubt in the meanest capacities, nor for contest in 'the most perverse minds. Your lordship adds in the next words, t 'And so it hath been always understood by the Christian church,' viz., That the resurrection of the same body, in your lordship's sense of the same body, is an article of faith. Answer. What the Christian church has always understood, is beyond my knowledge. But for those who, coming short of year lord- ship's great learning, cannot gather their articles of faith from the under- standing of all the whole Christian church, ever since the preaching of the Crospel, (who make the far greater part of Christians, I think I may say nine hundred and ninety and nine of a thousand, ) but are forced to have recoui-se to the Scripture, to find them there, I do not see that they will easily find there this proposed as an article of faith, that there shall be a resurrection of the same body ; but that there shall be a resur- rection of the dead, without explicitly determining. That they shall be raised with bodies made up wholly of the same particles which were once vitally united to tneir souls, in their former life, without the mixturo of any one other particle of matter; which is that which your lordship means by the same body. " But supposing your lordship to have demonstrated this to be ar. article of faith, though I crave leave to own that I do not see that all that your lordship has said here, makes it so much as probable: What is all this to me? 'Yes,' says your lordship in the following words, J ' my idea of personal identity is inconsistent with it, for it makes tho jame boiiy which was here united to the soul, not to be necessary to tha • John V. 60. t Second Answer. t Ibid. 374 APPENDIX. doctrine of the resurrection. But any material substance united to tli€ fian.e principle of consciousness, makes the same body. " This is an argument of your lordship's, which I am obliged to an- swer to. But is it not fit I should first understand it, before I answer it i Now, here, I do not well know, what it is to make a thing not to be necessary to the doctrine of the resurrection. But to help myself out the best I can, with a guess, I will conjecture (which, in disputing with learned men, is not vei-y safe) your lordship's meaning is, That •'my idea of personal identity makes it not necessary, that foi' the raising the same person, the body should be the same.' ' ' Your lordship's next word is, ' but ; ' to which I am ready to reply, but what? what does my idea of personal identity do? for something of that kind, the advei-satire particle 'but' should, in the ordinary con- struction of our language, introduce to make the proposition clear and intelligible: but here is no such thing. 'But,' is one of your lordship's privileged particles, which I must not meddle with ; for fear your lord- ship complain of me again, ' as so severe a critic, that for the least am- biguity in any particle, fill up pages in my answer, to make my book look considerable for the bulk of it. ' But since this proposition here, ' my idea of personal identity, makes the same body which was here united to the soul, not necessary to the doctrine of the resurrection ; but any material substance being united to the same principle of conscioiK- ness, makes the same body,' is brought to prove my idea of personal identity inconsistent with the article of the resurrection ; I must maJ^e it out in some direct sense or other, that I may see whethei' it be both true and conclusive. I, therefore, venture to read it thus: ' my idea of personal identity makes the same body which was here united to the soul, not to be necessary at the resurrection, but allows, that any mac terial substance being united to the same principle of consciousness^ makes the same body. £rgo, my idea of personal identity, is inconr sistent with the article of the resurrection of the same body. "If this be your lordship's sense in this passage, as I here have- guessed it to be, or else I know not what it isj 1 answer, " 1. That my idea of personal identity does not allow that any ma- terial substance, being united to the same principle of consciousness, makes the same body. I say no such thing in my book, nor anything from whence it may be inferred ; and your lordship would have done me a favour to have set down the words where I say so, or those from which you infer so, and showed how it foUows from anything I have said. "2. Granting, that it were a consequence from my idea of personal identity, that ' any material substance b^g united to tlie same prin- ciple of consciousness, makes the same body;' this would not prove that my idea of personal identity was inconsistent with this proposition, ' that the same body shall be raised ; ' but, on the contrary, affirms it : ■ since, if I aiiirm, as I do, that the same persons shall he raised, and it be a consequence of my idea of personal identity, that 'any material substance being united to the same principle of consciousness, makes tho same body ;' it follows, that if the same person be raised, the same had{y must be raised : and so I have herein not onlv said nothing inconsistent with the resurrection of the samo body, but have said movi for it thaji APPliNDIX. 375 your lordship. For thore can be nothing plainer, than that in the Sciip- tare it is revealed, that the same peraons shall be raised, and appear be- fore the judgment-seat of Christ, to answer for what they have dona in their bodies. If, therefore, whatever matter be joined to the same principle of consciousness makes the same body, it is demonstration, that if the same persons are raised, they have the same bodies. " How then your lordship makes this an inconsistency with the re- surrection is beyond my conception. 'Yes,' says your lordship,* 'it is inconsistent with it, for it makes the same body, which was here united to the soul, not to be necessary.' "3. I answer, therefore. Thirdly, That this is the first time I ever teamed, that 'not necessary,' was the same with 'inconsistent.' I say that a body made up of the same numerical parts of matter, is not necessary to the making of the same person ; from whence it will indeed follow, that to the resun-ection of the same person, the same munerical E articles of matter are not reqmred. What does your lordship infer •om hence? to wit, this : therefore, he who thinks that the same particles of matter are not necessary to the making of the same person, cannot believe that the same persons shall be raised with bodies made of the very same particles of matter, if God should reveal that it shall be so, viz., that the same persons shall be raised with the same bodies they had before. Which is all one as to say, that he who thought the blow- ing of rams' horns was not necessary in itself to the falling down of the walls of Jericho, could not believe that they should fall upon the blow- ing of rams' horns, when Grod haA declared it should be so. " Your lordship says, ' my idea of personal identity is inconsistent with the article of the resurrection ; ' the reason you ground it on is this, because it makes not the same body necessary to the making the same person. Let us grant your lordship's consequence to be good, what will follow from it? No less than this, that your lordship's notion (for I dare not say your lordship has any so dangerous things as ideas) of personal identity, is inconsistent with the article of the resurrection. The demon- stration of it is thus ; your lordship says.t ' It is not necessary tliat the body to be raised at the last day, should consist of the same particles of matter which were united at the point of death ; for there must be a great alteration in them in a lingering disease ; as if a fat man falls into a consumption : you do not say the same particles which the sinner had at the very time of commission of his sins ; for then a long sinner must have a vast body, considering the continual spending of particles by perspiration.' And again, here your lordship says, J 'you allow the notion of personal identity to belong to the same man under several changes of matter.' From which wards it is evident, that your lordship supposes a person in this world may be continued and preserved tJie same in a body not consisting of the same individual particles of matter ; and hence it demonstratively follows, that let your lordship's notion of personal identity be what it will, it makes the same body not to be necessary to the same person ; and, therefore, it is by your lord- ship's rule, inconsistent with the article of the resuirection. When youi lordship shall think fit to clear your c wn notion of personal iaentity from • Second Answer. t Ibid. t Ibid. 37,6 APPENDIX. this iftcansistency with the article of the resurrection, 1 do not douT^t but my idea of personal identity will be thereby cleared too. Till then, all inconsistency with that article, which your lordship has here charged on mine, will unavoidably fall upon your lordship's too. ** But for the clearing of both, give me leave to say, my lord, that whatsoever is not necessaiy, does not, thereby, become inconsistent. It -is not necessary to the same person, that his body should always consist ■, of the same numerical particles; this is demonstration, because the particles of the bodies of the same persons, in this life, change every moment, and your lordship cannot deny it ; and yet this makes it not inconsistent with God's preserving, if he thinks fit, to the same persons, bodies consisting of the same numerical particles always, from the re^ surrection to eternity. And so, likewise, though I say anytnmg that supposes it not necessary, that the same numerical particles, which were vitally united to the soul in this life, should be reunited to it at the resur- rection, and constitute the body it shall then have ; yet it is not incon- sistent with this, that God may, if he pleases, give to everyone a body consisting only of such particles as were before vitally united to his souK And thus, I think, I have cleared my book from all that inconsistency which your lordship charges on it, and would persuade the world it has, with the article of" the resurrection of the dead. " Only before I leave it, I will set down the remainder of what your lordship says upon this head, that though I see not the coherence nor tendency of it, nor the force of any argument in it against me ; yet that nothing may be omitted that your lordship has thought fit to entertain your reader with, on this new point, nor any one have reason to suspect, that I have passed by any word of your lordships (on this now first in- troduced subject) wherein he might find your lordship had proved what you had promised in your title-page. Your remaining words are these:* ' The dispute is not how far personal identity in itself may consist in the very same material substance; for we allow the notion of personal identity to belong to the same man under several (.hanges of matter; but whether it doth not depend upon a vital union between the soul ami body, and the life which is consequent upon it ; and therefore in the resurrection, the same material substance must be reunited, or else it cannot be called a resurrection, but a renovation, i. e., it may be a new life, but not a raising the body from the dead. ' I confess I do not see now what is here ushered in by the words, 'and therefore,' is a conse- ijuence from the preceding words ; but as to the pi'opriety of the name, I think it will not be much questioned, that if the same man rise who was dead, it may vei-y properly be called the resurrection of the dead; which is the language of the Scripture. *' I must not part with this article of the resurrection, without return- ing my thanks to your lordship for making met take notice of a fault in my Essay. When I wrote that book, I took it for granted, as I doubt not but many others have done, that the Scripture had mentioned, in express terms, 'the resurrection of the body.' But upon the occasion your lordship has given me in your last letter, to look a little mow tuuTOwly into what revelation has declared concerning the resurrection,. * Sec^ond Answer. + Ibid. APPENDIX. 377 ftud finding no such express words in th? Scripture, as that 'the body Bnall rifle, or be raised, or the resurrection of the body ; ' I shall, in the next edition of it, change these words of my book,* -The dead bodies oi men shall rise,' into these of the Scripture, 'the dead shall rise.' Not that I question that the dead shall be raised with bodies ; but in mattei-n of reveiktion I think it not only safest, but our duty, as far as any one delivers it for revelation, to keep close to the words of the Scripture, unless he will assume to himself the authority of one inspired, or make himself wiser than the Holy Spirit himself. If I had spoken of the re- surrection in precisely Scripture terms, I had avoided giving your loid- ship the occasion of making + here such a verbal reflection on my words ; *What! not if there be an idea of identity as to the body?' " No. VII.— Vol. 11. page 14, par. 11. "This, as I underetand," replies Mr. Locke to the Bishop of Wor- cester's objection, " is to prove that the abstract general essence of any sort of things, or things of the same denomination, v. g., of man or mari- gold, hath a real being out of the understanding; which, I confess, I am not able to conceive. Your lordship's proof here brought out of my Essay, concerning the sun, I humbly conceive will not reach it; because what is said there, does not at aU concern the real, but nominal essence, as is evident from hence, that the idea I speak of there is a complex idea; but we have no complex idea of the internal constitution, or real essence of the sun. Besides, I say expressly, That our distinguishing substances into species by names, is not at all founded on their real essences. So that the sun being one of these substances, I cannot, in the place quoted by your lordship, be supposed to mean by essence of the sun, the real essence of the sun, unless I had so expressed it. But all this argument will be at an end, when your lordship shall have ex- plained what you mean by these words, * true sun.' In my sense of them, anything will be a true sun, to which the name sun may be truly and properly applied ; and to that substance or thing the name sun may be tnily and properly applied, which has united in it that combination of sensible qualities, by which anything else that is called sun, is distin- guished from other substances, i.e., by the nominal essence; and thus our sun is denominated and distinguished from a fixed star, not by a real essence that we do not know, (for if we did, it is possible we should find the real essence or constitution of one of the fixed stars to be the same with that of our sun,) but by a complex idea of sensible qualities co-existing, which, wherever they are found, make a true sun. And thus I crave leave to answer your lordship's question : ' For what is it makes the second sun to be a true sun, but having the same real essenco with the first? If it were but a nominal essence, then the second would have nothing but the name.' "I humbly conceive, if it had the nominal essence, it would hava something besides the name, viz , That nominal essenca which is suf- ficient to denominate it truly a sun, or to make it to be a true sun, though we know nothing of that real essence whereon that nominal ona depend^. Your lordship will then argue, that tnat real essence is in tha ', B, 4, 0. '.8, par. 7. t Second Answer. 378 APFENDIX. eeoond aun, and inakea the second aun. I grant it when thefleuond ima comes to exist, so as to be perceived by us to Jiav«3il the ideas contained in our complex idea, i.e., in ournominaJ essence of the sun. For should it be tru^ (as is now believed by astronomers, ) that the real essence of the Bun were in any of the fixed stars, yet such a star could not for that be by us called a aun, whilst it answers not our complex idea, or nominal <«3ence of a sua. But how far that will prove, that the essences of things, as they are knowjjble by us, have a reality in them distinct from that of abstract ideas in the mind, which are merely creatures of the mind, I do not see ; and we shall further inquire, in considering your lordship's following worda : ' Therefore,' aay you, ' there must be a real essence in every individual of the same kind.' Yes, and I beg leave of your lordship to say, of a different kind too. For that alone is it which luakea it to be what it is. " That every individual substance has a real, internal, individual oon- ^itution, i. e., a real essence, that makes it to be what it is, I readily grant. Upon this, your lordship says, ' Peter, James, and John, are all true and real men.' Answer. Without doubt, supposing them to be men, they are true and real men, i. e., suppoaing the name of that species belongs to them. And so three bobaques are all true and real bobaques, supposing the name of that species of animals belongs to them. ** For I beseech your lordship to consider, whether in your way of argu- ing, by naming them Peter, James, and John, names familiar to us as ap- propriated to individuals of the species man, your lordship does not first suppose them men, and then very safely ask, whether they be not all true and real men ? But if I should ask your lordship whether Weweena, Ohuckery, and Cousheda, were true and real men or not? your lordship would not be able to tell me, till I have pointed out to your lordship the individuals called by those namea, your lordship, by examining whe- ther they had in them those sensible qualities which your lordship haa combined into that complex idea to which you give the specific name man, determined them all, or some of them, to be the species which you call man, and so to be true and real man ; which, when your lordship has determined, it is plain you did it by that which is only the nominal essence, as not knowing the real one. But your lordship further asks, * What is it makes Peter, James, and John, real men ? Is it the at- tributing the general name to them? No, certainly; but that the true and real essence of a man is in every one of them.' "If when your lordship asks. ' What makes them men ? ' your lord- ship used the word making in the proper sense for the efficient cause, and in that sense it were true, that the essence of a man, i. c, the spe- cific essence of that species made a man ; it would undoubtedly follow, that this specific essence had a reality beyond that of being only a gene- i-al abstract idea in the mind. But when it is said, that it is the true and real essence of a man in every one of them, that maikes Peter, James, and John, true and real men, the true and real meaning of these words is no more, but that the essence of that species, i. e., the properties answering the complex abstract idea to which the specific name is given, being found in them, that makes them be properly and trulj' called men, or is the reason why they are called men. Your lordship adds, ' And we must be as certain of this, as we are that they are men.' APPENIMS. 379 "How, I beseech jour lordship, are we certain that they are mo» but only by our senses finding those properties in them which answer the abatra ArPENDIX. 3.91 ctituting it in the place of, that complex idea where you say the rosi es- sence of it is just as it was, or the very same as it was, does suppose tin' idea it stands for to be steadily the same. F( r if I change the signi- fication of the word man, whereby it may not comprehend just the same mdividuals which in your lordship's sense it does, but shut out some of those that to ynur lordship are men in your signification of the word man, or take in others, to which your lordship does not allow the name man ; I do not think you will say, that the real essence of man in both these senses is the same. And yet your lordship seems to say so, when you say, ' Let men mistake in the complication of their ideas, either in leav- ing out or putting in what doth not belong to them ; ' and let their ideas be what they please, the real essence of the individuals comprehended under the names annexed to these ideas will be the same; for so I humbly conceive, it must be put to make out what your lordship aims at. For as your lorfship puts it by the name of man, or any other spe- cific name, your lordship seems to me to suppose, that that name stands for, and not for, the same idea, at the same time. " For example, my lord, let your lordship's idea to which you annex the sign man, be a rational animal: let another man's idea be a rational animal of such a shape; let a third man's idea be of an animal of such a size and shape, leaving out rationality ; let a fourth's be an animal with a body of such a size and shape, and an immaterial substance, with a power of reasoning ; let a fifth leave out of hia idea, an immaterial substance : it is plain every one of these will call his a man, as well as your lordship; and yet it is as plain that man, as standing for all these distinct complex ideas, cannot be supposed to have the same internal constitution, i. c, the same real essence. The truth is, every distinct abstract idea with a name to it, makes a real distinct kind, whatever the real essence (which we know not of any of them) be. "And therefore I grant it true what your lordship says in the next words: 'And let the nominal essences differ never so much, the real common essence or nature of the several kinds are not at all altered by them ; ' i. c, that our thoughts or ideas cannot alter the real constitutions that are in things that exist, there is nothing more certain. But yet it is true, that the change of ideas to which we annex them, can and does alter the signification of their names, and thereby alter the kinds, which by these names we rank and sort them into. Your lordship further adds, ' And these real essences are unchangeable ; i. e., the internal con- stitutions are unchangeable. Of what, I beseech your lordship, are the intei-nal constitutions unchangeable? Not of anything that exists, but of God alone ; for they may be changed all as easily by that hand that made them, as the internal frame of a watch. What then is it that is unchangeable? the internal constitution or real essence of a species : which, in plain English, is no more but this, whilst the same specific name, v.g., of man, horse, or tree, is annexed to, or made the sign of the same abstract complex idea under which I rank several individuals ; it is impossible but the real constitution on which that unaltered complex idea or nominal essence depends, must be the same ; i.e., in other words, where we find all the same properties, we have reason to conclude thero is the same real internal constitution from which those properties flow. "But your lordship proves the real essences to be unohanpeabi^ 382 APPENDIX. because God makes them, in these following words : ' For, however there may happen some variety in individuals by particular accidents, yet the essences of men, and horses, and trees, remain always the same ; because they do not depend on the ideas of men, but on the will of the Creator, who hath made several sorts of beings.* **It is true, the real constitutions or essences of particular things existing do not depend on the ideas of men, but on the will of the Creator; but their being ranked into sorts, under such and such names, does depend, and wholly depend on the ideas of men." No. VIII Vol. II. p. 129, par. 2. The placing of certainty, as Mr. Locke does, in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of our ideas, the Bishop of Worcester suspects may be of dangerous consequence to that article of faith which he has endeavoured to defend : to which Mr. Locke answera : * " Since your lordship hath not, as I remember, shown, or gone about to show, how this proposition, viz., that certainty consists in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of two ideas, is opposite or inconsistent with that article of faith which your lordship has endeavoured to defend : it is plain, it is but your lordship's fear that it may be of dangerous con- sequence to it, which, as I humbly conceive, is no proof that it is any way inconsistent with that article. "Nobody, I think, can blame your lordship, or any one else, for being concerned for any article of the ChiTstian faith ; but if that concern (aa it may, and as we know it has done) makes any one apprehend danger, where no danger is, are we, therefore, to give up ana condemn any proposition, because any one, though of the tirst rank and magnitude, fears it may be of dangerous consequence to any trath of religion, with- out showing that it is so ? If such fears be the measures whereby to judge of truth and falsehood, the affirming that there are antipodes would be still a heresy ; and the doctrine of the motion of the earth must be rejected as overthrowing the truth of the Scripture, for of that dangerous consequence it has been apprehended to be, by many learned and pious divines, out of their great concern for religion. And yet, notwithstand- ing those great apprehensions of what dangerous consequence it might be, it is now universally received by learned men as an undoubted truth; and written for by some, whose belief of the Scripture is not at all ques- tioned ; and particularly, very lately, by a divine of the Church of Ilngland, with great strength of reason, in his wonderfully ingenious New Theory of the Earth. "The reason your lordship gives of your fears, that it may be of such dangerous consequence to that article of faith, which your lordship en- deavaurs to defend, though it occur in more places than one, is only this : viz., that it is made use of by ill men to do mischief, i. &, to oppose that article of faith, which your lordship hath endeavoured to defend. _ But, my lord, if it be a reason to lay by anything as bad, because it is, or may be used to an ill purpose, I know not what will be innocent enough to be kept. Ai-ms, which were made for our defeooe, • In his Second Letter to the Bishop of Worcester. AFPENDIX. 383 are sometimes made use of to do mischief; and yet they are not thought of dangeroiis consequence for all that. Nobody lays by his sword and pistols, or thinks them of such dangerous consequence as to be neglected, or thrown away, because robbers, and the worst of men, sometimes make use of them to take away honest men's lives or goods. And th6 reason is, because they were designed, and will serve to preserve them. And who knows but this may be the present case ? If your lordship thinks that placing of certainty in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, be to be rejected as faUe, because you apprehend it may be of dangerous consequence to that ai-ticle of faith : on the other side, perhaps othera, with me, may think it a defence against error, and BO (as being of good use) to be received and adhered to. ' "I would not, my lord, be hereby thought to set up my own, or any one's judgment against your lordship's. But I have said this only U) ■show, whilst the aigument lies for or against the truth of any propo- sition, barely in an imagination that it may be of consequence to the supporting or overthrowing of any remote truth ; it will be impossible, that way, to determine of the truth or falsehood of that proposition. For imagination will be set up against imagination, and the stronger probably will be against your lordship ; the strongest imaginations being usually in the weakest heads. The only way, in this case, to put it past doubt, is to show the inconsistency of the two propositions ; and then it will be seen that one overthrows the other, the true the false one. " Your lordship says, indeed, this is a new method of certainty. I will not say so myself, for fear of desei-ving a second reproof from your lordship, for being too forward to assume to myself the honour of being an original. But this, I think, gives me occasion, and will excuse me from being thought impertinent, if I ask your lordship whether there be any other, or older method of certainty ? and what it is ! Tor if there be no other, nor older than this, either this was always the method of certainty, and so mine is no new one ; or else the world is obliged to ma for this new one, after having been so long in the want of so necessary a tiling as a method of certainty. If there be an older, I am sure your loi'dship cannot but know it ; your condemning mine as new, as well as yonr thorough insight into antiquity, cannot but satisfy everybody that you do. And therefore, to set the world right in a thing of that great concernment, and to overthrow mine, and thereby prevent the dangerous consequence there is in my having unreasonably started it, will not, I humbly conceive, misbecome your lordship's care of that article you have endeavoured to defend, nor the goodwill you bear to truth in general. For I will be answerable for myself that I shall ; and I think I may be for all others, that they all wUl give off the placing of certainty in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, if your lordship vrill be pleased to show, that it lies in anything else. " But truly, not to ascribe to myself an invention of what has been ae oJd as knowledge is in the world, I must own I am not guilty of what your lordship is pleased to call starting new methods of certainty. Know- ledge, ever since there has been any in the world, has consisted in one particular action in the mind ; and so, I conceive, will continue to do to the und of it. And :o itart new methods of kjiowledjje or certainty, (for 381: APPENDIX. they are to me the same thing,) i. c, to find out anj propose nrw methods of attaining knowledge, either with more ease and quicknesK, or in things yet unknown, is what I think nobody could blame ; but this is not that which your lordship here means by new methods of cer- tainty. Your lordship, I think, means by it, the placing of certainty in something, wherein either it does not consist, or else wherein it waa not placed before now ; if this be to be called a new method of cer- tainty. As to the latter of these, I shall know whether I am guilty or not, when your lordship will do me the favour to tell me wherein it was placed before ; which your lordship knows I professed myself ignorant of when I wi-ote my book ; and so I am still. But if starting new methods of certainty be the placing of certainty in something wherein it does not consist, whether I have done that or not, I must appeal to the experience of mankind. " There are several actions of men's minds, that they are conscious to themselves of performing, as willing, believing, knowing, &o., which they have so particular a sense of, that they can distinguish them one from another ; or else they could not say when they willed, when they believed, and when they knew anything. But though these actions were different enough from one another, not to be confounded by those who spoke of them, yet nobody that I have met with had in theii* writings particularly set down wherein the act of knowing precisely consisted. ' * To this reflection upon the actions of my own mind, the subject of my Essay concerning Human Understanding naturally led me ; whereijl if I have done anything new, it has been to describe to others, more particularly than had been done before, what it is their minrjs do wher they perform that action which they call knowing ; and if, upon exr iunination, they observe I have given a true account of that action oi their minds in all the parts of it, I suppose it will be in vain to dispute against what they find and feel in themselves ; and if 1 have not told them right, and exactly what they find and feel in themselves, when theii- minds perform the act of knowing, what I have said will be all in vain, men will not be persuaded against their senses. Knowledge is an internal perception of their minds ; and if, when they reflect on it, they find that it is not what I have said it is, my groundless conceit will not be hearkened to, but be exploded by everybody, and die of •tself, and nobody need to be at any pains to drive it out of the world. So impossible is it to find out or start new methods of certainty, or to have them received, if any one places it in anything but in that wherein it really consists ; much less can any one be in danger to be misled into error by any such new, and to eveiy one, visibly senseless project. Can it be supposed that any one could start a new method of seeing and persuade men thereby that they do not see what they do see? Is it to l>e feared that any one can cast such a mist over their eyes, that they should not know when they see, and so be led out of their way by it? . " Knowledge, I find in myself, and I conceive in others, consists in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of the immediate object! of the mind in thinking, which I call ideas ; but whether it does so in others or not, must be determined by their own experience, reflecting \x\xm the action of their minds in knowing; for that 1 cannot alter,- nor. 1 think, "uhty themselves. But whether they will call those immediatA APPENDIX.' 386 objects of their minds in thinking, ideas or not, is perfectly in tlieir own choice. If they dislike that name, they may call them notions or con- ceptions, or how they please ; it matters not, if they use them so as to avoid obscurity and confusion. If they are constantly used in the same and a known sense, eveiy one has the liberty to please himself in his tenns ; there lies neither truth, nor error, nor science in that ; though those thiit take them for things, and not for what they are, bare arbi- trary signs of our ideas, make a great deal ado often about them ; as if some great matter lay in the use of this or that sound. All that I know or can imagine of difference about them is, that those words are always best whose significations are be<=t known in the sense they are used, and- so are least apt to breed confusion. " My lord, your lordship hath been pleased to find fault with my use of the new term ideas, without telling me a better name for the imme- diate objects of the mind in thinking. Your lordship also has been pleased to find fault with my definition of knowledge, without doing me the favour to give me a better. For it is only about my definition of- knowledge, that all this stir concerning certainty is made : for, with me, to know and to be certain is the same thing : what I know, that I am certain of, and what I am certain of, that I know. What reaches to knowledge, I think may be called certainty; and what comes short of certainty, I think cannot be called knowledge, as your Ic-dship could not but observe in the 18th par. of chap. iv. of my fourth Book, which you have quoted. " My definition of knowledge stands thus: 'Knowledge seems to me to be nothing but the perception of the connexion and agreement or disagreement and repugnancy of any of our ideas.' This definition your lordship dislikos, and apprehends it may be of dangerous consequence as to that article of Christian faith which your lordship hath endeavoured to defend. For this there is a very easy remedy ; it is but for your lordship to set aside this definition of knowledge by giving us a better, and this danger is over. But your lordship chooses rather to have a controversy with my book for having it in it, and to put me upon the defence of it ; for which I must acknowledge myself obliged to your lordship for affording me so much of your time, and for allowing me the honour of conversing so much with one so far above me in all respects. " Your lordship says, it may be of dangerous consequence to that article of Christian faith which you have endeavoured to defend. Though the laws of disputing allow bare denial as a sufiicient answer to sayings, withmlt any offer of a proof; yet, my lord, to show how willing I am to giv« your lordship all satisfaction, in what you apprehend may be o< dangerous consequence in my book, as to that article, I shall not stand still sullenly, and put your lordship upon the difficulty of showing wherein that danger lies ; but shall, on the other side, endeavour to show your lordship that that definition of mine, whether true or false, n^ht or wrong, can be of no dangerous consequence to that article of faith. The reason Which I shaU offer for it is this, because it can be of no con- sequenbe to it at alL . ' " That which your lordship is afraid it may be dangerous to, m an arScle of faith: that which your lordship labours and is concerned for, vol. U. 2 C 386 APPENDIX is the certamt^ of faith. Now, my lord, I humbly conceive the cei- tainty of faith, if your lordahip thinks fit to call it so, has nothing to do vrith the certainty of knowledge. And to talk of the certainty of faith, seems all one to me as to talk of the knowledge of believing, "• way_o< speaking not easy to me to understand. " Place knowledge in what you will; start what new methods of cer- tainty you please, that are apt to leave men's minds more doubtful than before ; place certainty on such grounds as will leave little or no know- ledge in the world, (for these are the arguments your lordship uses against my definition of knowledge,) this shakes not at all, nor in the leaat concerns the assurance of faith; that is quite distinct from it, neither stands nor faUa with knowledge. "Faith stands by itself, and upon grounds of its own; nor can be removed from them, and placed on those of knowledge. Their grounds are so far from being the same, or having anything common, that when it is brought to certainty, faith is destroyed; it is knowledge then, and faith no longer. "With what assurance soever of believing I assent to any article of faith, so that I stedfastly venture my all upon it, it is still but believing. Bring it to certainty, and it ceases to be faith. ' I believe that Jesus Christ was crucified, dead, and buried, rose again the third day from the dead, and ascended into heaven : ' let now such methods of knowledge or certainty be started, as leave men's minds more doubtful than before ; let the grounds of knowledge be resolved into what any one pleases, it touches not my faith ; the foundation of that stands as sure as before, and cannot be at all shaken by it ; and one may as well say, that any- thing that weakens the sight, or casts a mist before the eyes, endangers the hearing; as that anything which alters the nature of knowledge (if that could be done) should be of dangerous consequence to an article of faith. ' ' Whether, then, I am or am not mistaken, in the placing certainty in the perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas ; whether this account of knowledge be true or false, enlarges or straitens the bounds of it more than it should, faith still stands upon its own basis, which is not at all altered by it ; and every article of that has j u^it the same unmoved fourdation, and the very same credibility that it had before. So that, my lord, whatever I have said about certainty, and how much soever I may be out in it, if I am mistaken, your lordship has no reason to apprehend any danger to any article of faith from thence ; eveiy one of them stands upon the same bottom it did before, out of the reach of what belongs to knowledge and certainty. And thus much of my way of certainty by ideas ; which I hope will satisfy your lordship how far it is from being dangerous to any article of the Christian faith whataoever." No. IX. -Vol. II. p. 144, par. 6. Against that assertion of Mr. Locke, that "possibly we shall never Its able to know whether any mere material being thinks or not, " &a , the Bishop of Worcester argues thus: "If this be true, then, for all that we can know by our ideas of matter and thinking, matter may have a power of thir^lcing ; and if thiB hold, then it is impossible to pmve a APP>2fDii. 387 ^iritual substance in us from the idea of thinking ; for how can we bo ksaured by our ideas, that Grod hath not given such a power of thinking to matter so disposed as our bodies are? Especially since it is said,* "That, in respect of our notions, it is not much more renicte from our comprehension to conceive that God can, if he pleases, superadd to our idea of matter a faculty of thinking, than that he should superadd to it another substance, with a faculty of thinking.' Whoever asserts this, can never prove a spiritual substsmce in us from a faculty of thinking, because he cannot know from the idea of matter and thinking, that matter so disposed cannot think ; and he cannot be certain, that God hath not framed the matter of our bodies so as to be capable of it." To which Mr. Locke answers thustl* "Here your lordship argues, that upon my principles, it cannot be proved that there is a spiritual substance in us. To which, give me leave, with submission, to say, that I think it may be proved from my principles, and I think I have done it ; and the proof in my book stands thus : First, We experiment in ourselves thinking. The idea of this action, or mode of thinking, is inconsistent with the idea of self- subsistence, and therefore has a neces- sary connexion with a support or subject of inhesion : the idea of that support is what we call substance ; and sc from thinking experimented in UB, we have a proof of a thinking substance in us, which in my sense is a spirit. Against this your lordship will argue, that, by what I have said of the possibility that God may, if he pleases, superadd to matter a faculty of thinking, it can never be proved that there is a spiritual sub- stance in us, because, upon that supposition, it is possible it may be a material substance that thinks in us. I grant it; but add, that the general idea of substance being the same everywhere, the modification of thinking, or the power of thinking, joined to it, makes it a spirit, without considering what other modifications it has, as whether it has the modification of solidity or not. As, on the other side, substance that has the modification of solidity, is matter, whether it has the modifica- tion of thinking or not. And therefore, if your lordship means by a spiritual, an inmaaterial substance, I grant I have not proved, nor upon my principles can it be proved, (your lordship meaning, as I think you do, demonstratively proved, ) that there is an immatenal substance in us that thinks. Though I presume, from what I have said about this sup- position of a system of matter, thinking + (which there demonstrates that God is immaterial) will prove it in the highest degre probable, that the thinking substance in xis is immaterial. But your lordship thinks not probability enough, and by charging the want of demonstration upon my principle, that the thinking thing in us is immaterial, your lordship seems to conclude it demonstrable from principles of philosophy. That demonstration I should with joy receive from your lordship or any one. For though all the great ends of morality and religion are well enough secured without it, as I have shown, § yet it would be a great advance of our knowledge in nature and philosophy. "To what I have said in my book, to show that all the great ends of • Essay on Human Understanding, B. 4, u. 3, p fi. + In his First Letter to the Bishop of Worcester. ± B. 4. c. 10, par. 10. § Ibid. ^. 3. nar. 6. ' ' 20 2 388 APPENDIX. religion and morality are secured barely by tie immortality of the sou], without a necessary supposition that the soul is immaterial, I crave leavo to add, that immortality may, and shall be, annexed to that which m its own nature is neither immaterial nor immortal, aa the apostle ex- pressly declares in these words : * ' For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this moi-tal must put on immortality.' " Perhaps my using the word spirit for a thinking substance, withoat excluding materiality out of it, will be thought too great a liberty, and such as deserves censure, because I leave immateriality out of the idea 1 nake it a sign of. I readily own, that words should be sparingly ventured on in a sense wholly new, and nothing but absolute necessity can excuse the boldness of using any term in a sense whereof we can produce no example. But in the present case I think I have great au- thorities to justify me. The soul is agreed, on all hands, to be that in \is which thinks. And he that will look into the first book of Cicero's Tusculan Questions, and into the sixth book of Virgil's ./Eneid, will find that these two great men, who, of all the Romans, best understood phi- losophy, thought, or at least did not deny, the soul to be a subtile mat- ter, which might come under the name of aura, or ignis, or (ether, and this soul they both of them called spiritus : in the notion of which, it is jplain, they included only thought and active motion, without the total exclusion of matter. Whether they thought right in this I do not say — that is not the question ; but whether they spoke properly, when they called an active, thinking, subtile substance, out of which they excluded Only gross and palpable matter, spi/ritus, spirit? 1 think that nobody Will deny, that if any among the Romans can be allowed to speak pro- perly, Tully and Virgil are the two who may most securely be depended on for it; and one of them, speaking of the soul, says, Ztum spiritua hos reget artus: and the other Vita continetur corpore et spiritu, "Where it is plain by corpus he means (as generally everywhere) only gross mat ter that may be felt and handled, as appears by these words : Si cor, aut sanguis, aut cerebrmn est animus: certe, quoniam est corpus, interibit cum reliquo corpore: si aniina est forte dissipabitur : si ignis, extingue- tur. Tusc. Qusest. 1. I. c. 11. Here Cicero opposes corpus to ignis and anima, i. e., aura, or breath. And the foundation of that his distinc- tion of the soul, from that which he calls corpus, or body, he gives a little lower in these words : Tanta ejus tenuitas ut fugiat aciem. Ibid, c. 22. Nor was it the heathen world alone that had this notion of spirit; the most enlightened of all the ancient people of God, Solomon himself speaks after the same manner : f ' That which befalleth the sons of meuj befalleth beasts: even one thing befalleth them: as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one spirit.' So I translate the He. brew word niT here, for so I find it translated the very next verse but one ; J ' Who knoweth the spuit of man that goeth upward, ' and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth ? ' ■ In which places it is plain that Solomon applies the word pin. ^nd our translators of him the word spirit, to a substance out of which materiaslity-'was notwh611y excluded, unless the spirit of a beast that goeth downwards to the earth be immaterial. Kor did the way of speaking in our^Saviour'^ time vary • 1 0(x. XV. 53. + Eccl. iii. 19. i J Ibid; 21. APPENDIX. 389 from this; St. Luke tells us,* ' That when our Saviour, after his resu.' rection, stood in the midst of them, they were affrighted, and supposed that they had seen irvivjia,' the Greek word which always answera spirit in English : and so the translators of the Bible render it here ; they sup- posed that they had seen a spirit. But our Saviour says to them, ' Be- Jiold my hands and my feet, that it is I myself; handle me, and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones, as you see me have.' Which words pf our Saviour put the same distinction between body and spirit, that Cicero did in the place above cited, viz.. That the one was a gross com- pages that could be felt and handled ; and the other such as Virgil d* Bcribes the ghost or soul of Anchises : ' Ter conatus ibi collo dare bracliia circum : Ter frustra comprensa manus efiFugit imago. Par levibus ventis, volucrique simillima somno.'t "I would not be thought hereby to say, that spirit never does signify a purely immaterial substance. In that sense the Scripture, I take it, speaks, when it says God is a spirit; and in that sense I have u.sed it ; and in that sense I have proved from my principles that there is a spiritual substance, and am cei-tain that there is a spiritual immaterial substance; which is, I humbly conceive, a direct answer to your lordship's question in the beginning of this aigument : viz., 'How we come to be certain that there are spiritual substances, sup- posing this principle to be true, that the simple ideas by sensation and reflection are the sole matter and foundation of all our rea- soning?' But this hinders not, but that if God, that infinite, onmi-. patent, and perfectly immaterial Spirit, should please to give to a system of very subtile matter, sense and motion, it might with propriety of speech be called spirit, though materiality were not excluded out of its pomplex idea. Your lordship proceeds: ' It is said, indeed, elsewhere, J that it is repugnant to the idea of senseless matter, that it should put into itself sense, perception, and knowledge. But this doth not reach the present case, which is not what matter can do of itself, but what matter prepared by an omnij)Otent hand can do And what certainty can we have that he hath not done it? We can have none from the ideas, for those are given up in this case, and consequently we can have no certainty, upon these principles, whether we have any spiritual substance within us or not.' "Your lordship in this paragraph proves, that from what I say, we can have no certainty whether we have any spiritual substance in us or not. If by spiritual substance, youi- lordship means an immaterial sub- stance in us, as you speak, I grant what your lordship says is true, that it cannot upon these principles be demonstrated. But I must crave leave to say, at the same time, that upon these principles it can be proved, to the highest degree of probability. If by spiritual substance, your lordship means a thinking substance, I must dissent from your lordship, and say. that we can have a certainty, upcc my principles, that there is a spiritual substance in us. In short, my lord, upon my principles, i. e., from the idea of thinking, we can have a certainty thai ■• Chap.xxiv. 37. t -Slneid. 'i: vi. J Essay, B. i, c. 10, par. 5 390 APPENDIX. there is a thinking substance in us ; from hence we have a cert?,inty that there is an eternal thinking substance. This thinking substance, which has been from eternity, I have proved to be immaterial. This eternal, immaterial, thinking substance, has put into us a thinking substance, which, whether it be a material or immaterial substa-nce, cannot be in- fallibly demonstrated from our ideas ; though from them it may be proved that it is to the highest degree probable that it is immaterial." Again, the Bishop of Worcester undertakes to prove, from Mr. Locke's principles, that we may be certain, "That the first eternal thinking Being, or omnipotent Spirit, cannot, if he would, give to certain systems of created sensible matter, put together as he sees fit, some degrees of sense, perception, and thought." To which Mr. Locke has made the following answer in his Third Letter : "Your first argument I take to be this : that according to me, the knowledge we have being by our ideas, and our ideas of matter in general being a sohd substance, and our idea of body a solid extended tigured substance ; if I admit matter to be capable of thinking, I confound the idea of matter with the idea of a spirit : to which I answer. No : no more than I confound the idea of matter with the idea of a horse, when I say that matter in general is -a solid extended substance, and that a horse is a material animal, or an extended solid substance, with sense and spontaneOTis motion. "The idea of matter is an extended solid substance; wherever there is such a substance, there is matter, and the essence of mattei', whatever other qualities, not contained in that essence, it shall please God to superadd to it For example : God creates an extended solid substanoe, without the superadding anything else to it, and so we may consider it at rest : to some parts of it he superadds motion, but it has still the essence of matter ; other parts of it he frames into plants, with all the excellences of vegetation, life, and beauty, which is to be found in a rose or peach tree, &c., above the essence of matter in general, but it 13 still but matter : to other parts he adds sense and spontaneous motion, and those other propeities that are to be found in an elephant. Hitherto it is not doubted but the power of God may go, and that the properties of a rose, a peach, or an elephant, superadded to matter, change not the properties of matter ; but matter is in these things matter stUl. But if oue venture to go one step further, and say, God may give to matter thought, reason, and volition, as well as sense and spontaneous motion, there are men ready presently to limit the power" of the omnipotent Creator, and tell us he cannot do it, because it destroys the essence, or changes the essential properties of matter. To make good which asser^ tion, they have no more to say, but that thought and reason are not in- cluded in the essence of matter. I grant it ; but whatever excellency, not contained in its essence, be superadded to matter, it does not de- stroy the essence of matter, if it leaves it an extended solid substance ; wherever that is, there is the essence of matter ; and if everjiihing of greater perfection, superadded to such a substance, destroys the essenoa of matter, what will become of the essence of matter in a plant or an animal, whose propei-ties far exceed those of a mere extencod solii lubstancd I APPENDIX 391 " But it is further urged, that we cannot conceive how matter can think I grant it : but to argue from thence, that Goii. therefore, can- not give to matter a faculty of thinking, ig to say, God's omnipotency is limited to a narrow compass, because man's understanding is so, and brings down God's infinite power to the size of our capacities. If God can give no power to any parts of matter, but what men can account for from the essence of mattei' in genei-al ; if all such qualities and pro- perties must destroy the essence, or change the essential properties of matter, which are to our conceptions above it, and we cannot conceive to be the natural consequence of that essence; it is plain that the essence of matter is destroyed, and its essential properties changed, in most of the sensible parts of this our system. For it is visible, that all th« planets have revolutions about certain remote centres, which I would have any one explain, or make conceivable by the bare essence, or na- tural powers depending on the essence of matter in general, without something added to that essence, which we cannot conceive; for the moving of matter in a crooked line, or the attraction of matter by matter, is all that can be said in the case ; either of which it is above our reach to derive from the essence of matter or body in general ; though one of these two must unavoidably be allowed to be superadded in this instance to the essence of matter in general. The omnipotent Creator advised not with us in the making of the world, and his ways are not the less excellent because they are past our finding out. '■ In the next place, the vegetable part of the creation is not doubted to be wholly material ; and yet he that will look into it will observe ex- cellences and operations in this part of matter, which he will not find contained in the essence of matter in general, nor be able to conceive how they can be produced by it. And vrill he therefore say, that the essence of matter is destroyed in them, because they have properties and operations not contained in the essential properties of matter as matter, nor explicable by the essence of matter in general? ** Let us advance one step further, and we shall in the animal world meet with yet greater perfections and properties, no ways expUcable by the essence of matter in general. If the omnipotent Creator had iiot superadded to the earth, which produced the irrational animals, qualities far surpassing those of the dull dead earth out of which they were made, life, sense, and spontaneous motion, nobler qualities than were before in it, it had still remained rude, senseless matter; and if to the indi- viduals of each species he had not superadded » power of propagation, the species had perished vrith those individuals ; but by these essences or properties of each species, superadded to the matter which they were mside of, the essence or properties of matter in general were not de- stroyed or changed, any more than anything that was in the individual before, was destroyed or changed by the power of generation, super- added to them by the first benediction of the Almighty. " In a,ll such cases, the superinducement of gi-eater perfections and nobler qualities destroys nothing of the essence or perfections that were there before ; unless there can be showed a manifest repugnancy be- tween them • but all the proof ofiered for that, is only that we cannot conceive how matter, without such superadded perfections, can produce guch effects ; which is, in truth, no more than to say, matter in general. l392 APPENDIX. or every part of matter, as matter, has them not ; but it is- no reason to prove that God, if he pleases, cannot superadd them to some parts ntf matter, unless it can be proved to be a contradiction, that Grod should give to soE:e parts of matter qualities and perfections which matter in general has not; though we cannot conceive how matter is invested with them, or how it operates by virtue of those new endowments ; nor is it to be wondered that we cannot, whilst we limit all its operations ■to those qualities it had before, and would explain them by the known properties of matter in general, without any such superinduced per- fections. For if this be a right rule of reasoning, to deny a thing to be, because we cannot conceive the manner how it comes to be ; I shall desire them who use it, to stick to this rule, and see what work it will make both in divinity as well as philosophy; and whether they can advance anything more in favour of scepticism. " For to keep within the present subject of the power of thinking and self-motion, bestowed by omnipotent Power in some parts of matter ; the objection to this is, I cannot conceive how matter should think. What is the consequence ? ergo^ God cannot give it a power to think. Let this stand for a good reason, and then proceed in other cases by the same. You cannot conceive how matter can attract matter at any distance, much less at the distance of 1, 000, 000 of miles ; ergo, God cannot give it such h power ; you cannot conceive how matter should feel, or move itself, or affect an immaterial being, or be moved by it ; ergo, God cannot give it such powers ; which is, in effect, to deny gravity, and the revolution of the planets about the sun ; to make brutes mere machines, without sense or spontaneous motion ; and to allow man neither sense nor voluntary motion. ' ' Let us apply this rule one degree further. You cannot conceive how ail extended solid substance should think ; therefore God cannot make it think : can you conceive how your own soul, or any substance,, thinks! You t'nd indeed that you do think, and so do I ; but I want to be told how the action of thinking is performed; this, I confess,- is beyond my conception, and I would be glad any one who conceives it woijld explain it to me. God, I find, has given me this faculty ; and since I cannot but be convinced of his power in this instance, which, though I every moment experiment in myself, yet I cannot conceive the, manner of ; what would it be less than an insolent absurdity, to deny his power in other like cases, only for this I'eason, because I cannot conceive the manner how? , ,' "To explain this matter a little further : God has created a substance ;, let it be, for example, a solid extended substance. Is God bound to, give it, besides being, a power of action? That, I think, nqbody wi|l aay i he therefore may leave it in a state of inactivity, and it will be nevei>, tholess a substance; for action is not necessary to the being of any sub-i stance that God does create. God has likewise created and made to. exist, de novo, an immaterial substance, which will not l(?se its being, of a substance, though God should bestow on it nothing more but tl^is bare, being, without giving it any activity at all. Here are nijw two di.stinot. substances, the one material, the other immaterial, both [in a state of, ppii-feot inactivity. Now I ask what power God can give to one of these, subatanooB (supposing them to retain the same distiioit natures that thej , APPENDIX. 3d3- tad as substances in their state of inactivity) which he cannot give to . the other? In that state it is plain neither of them thinks; for thinking being an action, it cannot be denied that God can put an end to anT action of any created substance, without annihilating of the substance whereof it is an action ; and if it be so, he can also create or give exist- ence to such a substance, without giving that substance any action at all. By the same reason it is plain that neither of them can move itself : now I would !isk why Omnipotency cannot give to either of these sub- stances, which are equally in a state of perfect inactivity, the same power that it can give to the other? Let it be for example, that of spon- taneous or self-motion, which is a power that it is supposed God can, give to an unsolid subst.%nce, but denied that he can give to a solid 4uhstance. "If it be asked why thev limit the omnipotency of God in reference to the one rather than the other of these substances ? all that can he said to it is, that they cannot conceive how the solid substance should ever be able to move itself And as httle, say I, are they able to conceive, how a created unsolid substance should move itself. But there may be something in an immaterial substance that you, do not know. I grant it; and in a material one too; for example, gravitation of matter towards matter, and in the several pioportions observable, inevitably shows that there is something in matter that we do not understand, unless we can conceive self-motion in matter ; or an inexplicable and inconceivable attraction in matter, at immense, almost incomprehensible distances ; it must, therefore, be confessed that there is something in solid as well as unsolid substances that we do not understand. But this we know, that they may each of them have their distinct beings, without any activity superadded to them, unless you will deny that God can take from any being its power of acting, which it is probable will be thought too presumptuous for any one to do ; and I say it is as hard to conceive self-motion in a created immaterial, as in a ma- terial being, consider it how you will ; and therefore this is no reason to deny Omnipotency to be able to give a power of self-motion to a material substance, if he pleases, as well as to an immaterial, since neither of them can have it from themselves, nor can we conceive how it can be in either of them. The same is visible in the other operation of thinking : both these sub- stances may be made and exist without thought ; neither of them has or can have the power of thinking from itself ; God may give it to either of them, according to the good pleasure of his omnipotency ; and in which- ever of them it is, it is equally beyond our capacity to conceive how either of these substances thinks. But for that reason to deny that God, who had power enough to give them both a being out of nothing, can by the same omnipotency give them what other powers and perfections he pleases, has no better foundation than to deny his power of creation because we cannot conceive how it is performed : and there, at last, this way of reasoning must terminate. ' ' That Omnipotency cannot make a substance to be solid and not ■ BoUd at the same time, I think, with due reverence, we may say ; but that a solid substance may not have qujilities, perfections, and powei;s, which have no natural or visibly necessary connexion with solidity and axtension, is too much for us (who are but of yesterday, and know n» 394 APPENDIX. thirg) ti) be positive »n. If God cannot join things together by ooo- nexions inconceivable to us, we must deny even the consistency and bein^ of matter itself; since every particle of it having some bulk, has its parts connected by ways inconceivable to us. So that all the diffi- culties that are raised against the thinking of matter, from our ignorance, or narrow conceptions, stand not at all in the way of the power of God, if he pleases to ordain it so ; nor prove anything against his having actually endued some parcels of matter, so disposed as he thinks fit, with a faculty of thinking, till it can be shown that it contains a contradiction to suppose it " Though to me sensation be comprehended under thinking in genez'al, yet in the foregoing discourse I have spoken of sense in brutes, as distinct from thinking; because your lordship, as I remember, speaks of Bense in brutes. But here I take liberty to observe, that if your lordship allows brutes to have sensation, it will follow, either that God ca-n and doth give to some parcels of matter a power of perception and thinking, or that all animals have immaterial, and consequently, according to your lordship, immortal souls, as well as men, and to say that fleas and mites, &c., have immortal souls as well as men, will possibly be looked on as going a great way to serve an hypothesis. *' I have been pretty large in making this matter plain, that they who are so forward to bestow hard censures or names on the opinions of those who differ from them, may consider whether sometimes they are not more due to their own; and that they may be persuaded a little to temper that heat, which, supposing the truth in their current opinions, gives them (as they think) a right to lay what imputations they please on those who would fairly examine the grounds they stand upon. For talking with a supposition and insinuations, that truth and knowledge, nay, and religion too, stand and fall with their systems, is at best but an imperious way of begging the question, and assuming to themselves, under the pretence of zeal for the cause of God, a title to infallibility. It is very becoming that men's zeal for truth should go as far as their proofs, but not go for proofs themselves. He that attacks received opi- nions with anything but fair arguments, may, I own, be justly suspected not to mean well, nor to be led by the love of truth ; but the same may be said of him too, who so defends them. An error is not the bettez for being common, nor truth the worse for having lain neglected ; and if it were put to the vote anywhere in the world, I doubt, as things are managed, whether truth would have the majority, at least whilst the au- thority of men, and not the examination of things, must be its measure. The imputation of scepticism, and those broad insinuations to render what I have written suspected, so frequent, as if that were the great business of all this pains you have been at about me, has made me say thus much, my lord, rather as my sense of the way to establish trulji in its full force and beauty, than that I think the world will need to have anything said to it, to make it distinguish between your lordship's and my design in writing, which, therefore, I securely leave to the judgment of the reader, and return to the argument in hand. ** What I have above said, I take to be a full answer to all that your lordship would infer from my idea of matter^ of liberty, of identity, and from the power of abstracting. You ask, * ' How can my idea of liberty * Fuvt Answer. APPENDIX. 89^ agree with the idea that bodies can operate only by motion and im- pulse?' Answer. By the omnipotency of God, who can make all things agree, that involve not a contradiction. It is true, I say, * That bodies operate by impulse, and nothing else. And so I thought When I wrote iti and can yet conceive no other way of their operation. But I am since convinced by the judicious Mr. Newton's incomparable book, that it is too bold a presumption to limit God's power in this point by my narrow conceptions. The gravitation of matter towards matter, by ways inconceivable to me, is not only a demonstration that God can, if he pleases, put into bodies powers and ways of operation, above what can be derived from our idea of body, or can be explained by what we know of matter; but also an unquestionable, and everywhere visible instance that he has done so. And, therefore, in the next edition of my book I will take care to have that passage rectified. ** As to self-consciousness, your lordship asks,+ 'What is there like self-consciousness in matter?' Nothing at all in matter, as matter. But that God cannot bestow on some parcels of matter a power of think- ing, and with it self- consciousness, will never be proved by asking, 4! How is it possible to apprehend that mere body should perceive that it doth perceive? The weakness of our apprehension, I grant in the case: I confess as much as you please, that we cannot conceive how a solid, no, nor how an nnsolid, created substance thinks ; but this weakness of our apprehensions reaches not the power of God,'whose weakness is stronger than anything in men. " Your argument from abstraction, we have in this question : || 'If it may be in the power of matter to think, how comes it to be so impos- sible for such organized bodies as the brutes have, to enlarge their ideas by abstraction? Ans. This seems to suppose that I place thinking within the natural power of matter If that be your meaning, my lord, I never say nor suppose that all matter has naturally in it a faculty of thinking, but the direct contrary. But if you mean that certain parcels of matter, ordered by the Divine Power, as seems fit to him, may be made capable of receiving from his omnipotency the faculty of thinking ; that, indeed, I say : and that being granted, the answer to your questioL is easy; since, if Omnipotency can give thought to any solid substanco, it is not hard to conceive that God may give that faculty in a higher or lower degree, as it pleases him, who knows what disposition of the sub- ject is suited to such a particular way or degree of thinking. " Another argument to prove that God cannot endue any parcel of matter with the faculty of thinking, is taken from those words of mine, ^ where I show by what connexion of ideas we may come to know that God is an immaterial substance. They are these: 'l^e idea of an eternal actual knowing being, with the idea of immateriality, by tltt Intervention of the idea of matter, and of its actual division, divisi- bility, and want of perception, &c. From whence your lordship thus argues : H ' Here the want of perception is owned to be so essential to matter, that God is therefore concluded to be immaterial.' Ans. Pei^ caption and knowledge in that one Eternal Bemg, where it has ita * Essay, B. 2, c. 8, par. 11. t First Answer, t Ibid. II Ibid. § Firet Letter. t Ibid. S96 APPENDIX. source, it is visible must be essentially inseparable from it; therefore tha actual want of perception in so great a part of the particular parcels of matter, is a demonstration, that the first Bemg, from whom perception and knowledge are inseparable, is not matter : how far this makes the want of perception an essential property of matter, I will not dispute; it suffices that it shows that perception is not an essential property of matter, and therefore matter cannot be that eternal original being to which perception and knowledge are essential. Matter, I say, na- turally is without perception: Ergo, says your lordship, 'want of per- .ception is an essential property of matter, and God does not change the essential properties of things, theii* nature remaining. ' From whence you infer, that God cannot bestow on any pai-cel of matter (the nature of matter remaining) a faculty of thinking. If the rules of logic, since my days, be not changed, I may safely deny this consequence. For an argument that runs thus, God does not, ergo, he cannot, I was taught when I first came to the university, would not hold. For I never said God did; but,* 'That I see no contradiction in it, that he should, if he pleased, give to some systems of senseless matter a faculty of think- ing ;' and I know nobody before Descartes that ever pretended to shoW that there was any contradiction m it. So that at woi"st, my not being able to see in matter any such incapacity as makes it impossible for Omnipotency to bestow on it a faculty of thinking, makes me opposite only to the Cartesians. For as far as I have seen or heard, the Fathers of the Christian church never pretended to demonstrate that matter was incapable to receive a ■ power of sensation, perception, and thinking, from the hand of the omnipotent Creator, Let us, therefore, if you please, suppose the form of your argumentation right, and that your lordshijj means, ' God cannot : ' and then if your argument be good, it proves, 'That God could not give to Balaam's ass a power to speak to his master, as he did, for the want of rational discourse being natural to that species;' it is but for your lordship to call it an essential pro- perty, and then God cannot change the essential properties of things, their nature remaining : whereby it is proved, 'That God cannot, with ail his omnipotency, give to an ass a power to speak, as Balaam's did.' ^ "You say, + my lord, you ' do not set bounds to God's omnipotency. For he may, if he please, change a body into an immaterial substance,' (, e. , take away from a substance the solidity which it had before, and which made it matter, and then give it a faculty of thinking which it had- not before, and which makes it a spirit, the same substance remain- ing. For if the substance remains not, body is not changed into an immaterial substance. But the solid substance, and all belonging to it, is annihilated, and an immaterial substance created, which is not a change of one thing into another, but the destroying of one and making another dc novo. In this change, therefore, of a body or material sub- stance, into an immaterial, let us observe these distinct considerations. "First, you say, ' God may, if he please, take away from a solid nub- Etance, solidity, which is that which makes a material substance or body; and may make it an immaterial substance, i. e., a substance without Bolidity. But this privation of one quality gives it not another; thebaw * B 4, c. 3, par. 6. t Pii-at Answer. APPENDIX. 39T taking away a lower or less noble quality, does not. gire it a higher oi nobler ; that must be ths gift of God. Por the bare privation of one, and a meaner quality, cannot be the position of a higher and better: nnle89 any one will say that cogitation, or the power of thinking, results from the nature of substance itself ; which if it do, then, wherever there is substance, there must be cogitation, or a power of thinking. Here, then, upon your lordship's own principles, is an immaterial substance without the faculty of thinking. "In the next place, you wUl not deny that God may give to -this sub- stance, thus deprived of solidity, a faculty of thinking ; for you suppose^ it made capable of that by being made immaterial ; whereby you allow that the same numerical substance may be sometimes wholly incogita- tive, or without a power of thinking, and at other times perfectly cogi- tative, or endued with a power of thinking. "Farther, you will not deny but God can give it solidity, and make it material again. For I conlcude it will not be denied that God oa,n make it again what it was before. Now I crave leave to ask your lord- ship, why God, having given to this substance the facidty of thinking, after solidity was taken from it, cannot restore to it solidity again, with- out taking away the faculty of thinking! When you have resolved this, my lord, you will have proved it impossible for God's omnipotence to give to a solid substance a faculty of thinking ; but till then, not having proved it impossible, and yet denying that God can do it, is to deny that he can do what is in itself possible ; which, as I humbly conceive, is visibly to set bounds to God's omnipotency, though you say here,* you do not set bounds to God's omnipotency.* "If I should imitate your lordship's way of writing, I should not omit to bring in Epicurus here, and take notice that this was his way, Dewm, verbis ptynere, re toUere; and then add, that I am certain you do not think he promoted the great ends of religion and morality. For it is with such candid and kind insinuations as these that you bring in both Hobbes+ and Spinosa:); into your discourse here about God's being able, if he please, to give to some parcels of matter, ordered as he thinks fit, a faculty of thinking ; neither of those authors having, as appears by any passages you bring out of them, said anything to this question ; nor having, as it seems, any other business here, but by their names, skil- fiilly to give that character to my book vrith which you would recommend it to the world. "I pretend not to inquire what measure of zeal, nor for what, guides your lordship's pen in such a way of writing, as yours has all along been with me ; only I cannot but consider, what reputation it would give ta the writings of the fathers of the church, if they should think truth required, or religion allowed them to imitate such patterns. But God be thanked, there be those amongst them who do not admire such ways of managing the cause of truth or religion ; they being sensible, that il every one who believes, or can pretend he hath truth on his side, ia thereby authorized, without proof, to insinuate whatever may serve to prejudice men's mmds against the other side, there will be greal fevage made on charity and practice, without any gain to truth or know> • First Answer. t Ibid. t Ibid. 398 APPENDIX. ledge; and that the liberties frequently taketi "by disputants to do so, may have been the cause that the world in all ages has received so much harm, and so little advantage, from controversies in religion. "These are the arguments which your lordsbip haa brought to confute one saying in ray book, by other passages in it ; which, therefore, being all but argumewta ad hominem, if they did prove what they do not, are Dense. APPENDIX. 403 '■ I thought your lordship had in other jlaoes asserted, and insisted on Hiis truth, that no part of divine revelatiim was the leas to be believed, because the thing itself created great difficulty in the undei-standing, and the manner of it was hard to be explained ; and it was no easy matter tu give an account how it was. This, as I take it, your lordship con- denmed in othei*a, as a very unreasonable principle, and such as would subvert all the articles of the Christian religion, that were mere matters of i'aifch, as I think it wiU : and is it possible, that you should make use of it here yourself, against the article of life and immortality, that Christ hath brought to light through the gospel, and neither was nor could be made out by natural reason without revelation? But you will say, you speak only of the soul ; and your words are, ' That it is no easy matter to give an account how the soul should be capable of immortality, unless it be an immaterial substance. ' I grant it ; but crave leave to say, that there is not any one of those difficulties, that are or can be raised about the manner how a material soul can be immoi'tal, which do not as well reach the immortality of the body. "But if it were not so, I am sure this principle of your lordship's would reach other articles of faith, wherein our natural reason finds it lot so easy to give an account how those mysteries are : and which, therefore, according to your principles, must be less credible than other articles, that create less difficult to thp understanding. For your lordship says,* ' That you appeal to any man of sense, whether to a man who thought by his principles, he could from natural grounds demon- strate the immortality of the soul, the finding the uncertainty of those principles he went upon in point of reason, ' i. e., the finding he could not certainly prove it by natural reason, doth not weaken the credibility of that fundamental article, when it is considered purely as a matter of faith? Which, in effect, I humbly conceive, amounts to this, that a pro- position divinely revealed that cannot be proved by natural reason, is less credible than one that can : which seems to me to come very little short of this, with due reverence be it spoken, that God is less to be believed when he affirms a proposition that cannot be proved by natural reason, than when he proposes what can be proved by it. The direct contrarv to which is my opinion, though you endeavour to make it good by these following words : t ' If the evidence of faith fall so much short of that of reason, it must needs have less effect upon men's minds, when the subserviency of reason is taken away; as it must be, when the grounds of certainty by reason are vanished. Is it at all probable, that he who finds his reason deceive him in such fundamental points, should have his faith stand fim and immovable on the account of revelation?' Than which I think there are hardly plainer words to be found out to declare, that the credibility of God's testimony depends on the natural evidence of probability of the things we receive from revelation ; and rises and falls with it ; and that the truths of God, or the articles of mere faith, lose so much of their credibility as they want proof from reason ; which, if true, revelation may come to have no credibility at all. For if, in this present case, the credibility of this proposition, ' the souls ol men shall live for ever,' revealed in the Scripture, be 1 issened by con- * Second Answer. t Ibid. 2d2 404 APPENDIX. fessing it cannot be demonstratively proved from i .'ason, though it be asserted to be most highly probable ; must not, in, the same rule, its credibility dwindle away to nothing, if natural reason should not be able to make it out to be so much as probable, or should place the probability from natural principles on the other side? For if mere want of demon- stration lessens the credibility of any proposition divinely revealed, must not want of probability, or contrary probability from natural reason, quite take away its credibility? Here at last it must end, if in any oni! case the veracity of God, and the credibility of the truths we receive from him by revelation, be subjected to the verdicts of human reason, and be allowed to receive any accession or diminution from other proofs, or want of other proofs of its certainty or probability. "If this be your lordship's way to promote religion, or defend its articles, I know not what argument the greatest enemies of it could use more eflfectually for the subversion of those you have undertaken to defend ; this being to resolve all revelation perfectly and purely into natural reason, to bound its credibility by that, and leave no room for faith in other things, than what can be accounted for by natural reason without revelation. "Your lordship* insists much upon it, as if I had contradicted what I have said in my Essay, t by saying, ' that upon my principles it can- Jiot be demonstratively proved, that it is an immaterial substance in us that thinks, however probable it be.' He that will be at the pains to read that chapter of mine, and consider it, will Jind that my business there was to show, that it was no harder to conceive an immaterial than a mateiial substance ; and that from the ideas of thought, and a power of moving of matter, which we experienced in ourselves, (ideas originally not belonging to matter as matter, ) there was no more difficulty to con- clude there was an immaterial substance in us, than that we had ma- terial parts. These ideas of thinking and power of moving of matter, T, in another place, showed, did demonstratively lead us to the certain knowledge of the existence of an immaterial thinking being, in whom we have the idea of spirit in the strictest sense ; in which sense I also applied it to the soul, in the 23rd chapter of my Essay ; the easily con- ceivable possibility, nay, great probability, that the thinldng substance in us is immaterial, giving me sufficient ground for it. In which sense I shaU think I may safely attribute it to the thinking substance in us, till your lordship shall have better proved from my words, that it is impos- sible it shoidd be immaterial. For I only say, that it is possible, i. c, Involves no contradiction, that God, the omnipotent, immaterial Spirit, should, if he please, give to some parcels of matter, disposed as he thinks tit, a power of thinking and moving ; which parcels of matter so endued with a power of thinking and motion, might properly be called spirits, in contradistinction to unthinking matter : in all which, I presume, thero is no manner of contradiction. "I justified my use of the word spirit, in that sense, from the autho- rities of Cicero and Virgil, applying the Latin word spiritus, from whence spirit is derived, to the soul, as a thinking thing, without excluding ma- teriality out of it. To which your lordship repUes,t ' that Cicero, in bia * first Answer. t B, 2. o. 23. J First Answer. APPENDIX. 405 Tusculau Questions, auppoaes the soul not to be a finer sort of body, but of a different nature from the body — that he calls the body, the prison of the soul — and says, that a wise man's business is to draw oif his soul from his body.' And then your lordship concludes, as is usual, ■with a question ; ' Is it possible not to think so great a man looked on the soul but as a modification of the body, which must be at an end with 'life?' Answer, "No; it is impossible that a man of so good sense as Tully, when he uses the word corpus, or body, for the gross and visible parts of a man, which he acknowledges to be mortal, should look on the soul to be a modification of that body, in a discourse wherein he was endeavouring to persuade another that it was immortal. It is to be acknowledged, that truly great men, such a-s he was, are not wont so manifestly to contradict themselves. He had therefore no thought con- cerning the modification of the body of a man in the case : he was not such a trifler as to examine whether the modification of the body of a man was immortal, when that body itself was mortal. And therefore, that which he reports as Dicaearchus's opinion, he dismisses in the be- ginning without any more ado, c. 11. But Cicero's was a direct, plain, and sensible inquiry, viz.. What the soul was? to see whether from thence he could discover its immortality. But in all that discourse in his fii-st book of Tusculan questions, where he lays out so much of his reading and reason, there is not one syllable showing the least thought that the soul was an immaterial substance ; but many things directly to the contrary. ' ' Indeed, (1.) he shuts out the body, taken in the sense he uses * corpus all along, for the sensible organical parts of a man ; and is posi- tive that it is not the soul : and body in this sense, taken for the human body, he calls the prison of the soul ; and says, a wise man, instancing in Socrates and Cato, is glad of a fair opportunity to get out of it. But he nowhere says any such thing of nmtter : he calls not matter in general the prison of the soul, nor talks a word of being separate from it. " 2. He concludes that the soul is not, like other things here below, made up of a composition of the elements, c. 27. " 3. He excludes the two gross elements, earth and water, from being the soul, c. 26. "So far he is clear and positive; but beyond this he is uncertain, beyond this he could not get. For in some places he speaks doubtfully, whether the soul be not air or fire, Awima dt animua, ignisve, nescio, c. 25, And therefore he agrees with Panaetius, that if it be at all elemen- tary, it is, as he calls it, inflammata anitna, inflamed air ; and for this he gives several reasons, c. 18, 19. .And though he thinks it to be of a peculiar nature of its own, yet he is so far from thinking it immaterial, that he says, c. 19, that the admitting it to be of an aerial or igneous nature will not be inconsistent vrith anything he had aaid. "That which he seems most to incline to, is, that the soul was not at all elementary, but was of the same suuatance with the heavens ; which Aristotle, to distinguish from the four elements, and the changeable bodies here below, which he supposed made up of them, called quirUa essentia. That this was Tully's opinion, is plain, from these word* : • Ch. 19, 22, 30, 31, &o. 406 APPENUTS. Ergo aniirms (qui, ut ego tUco, divinusj est, tit Ev/Hpides audet dicere Deus; et quidem si Deus (mt anima aut ignis est, idem est anim/us hominis IS'am ut ilia Tiatura ccelestis et terrd vacat et hwmore; sic utrinsque haruin rcrum h-wtnanus awiams est expers. Sin autem est quinta qucedam. na- tit/ra ah Aristotele inducta; prinrnm hcec et deorum, est et animorum. HoMC nos sententia/m secuti, his ipsls verbis in consolatione hcec expressiTnvAi, c, 'IQ. And then he goes on, c. 27, to repeat those his own words, which your lordship has quoted out of liim, wherein he had aflSrmed, in his treatise De Oonsolatione, the soul not to have its original from the earth, or to be mixed or made of anything earthly ; but had said, Singularis est igitur qucedam Tiatura et vis anir/ii, sejuncta ah his usitatis notisque natwris; whereby, he tells us, he meant nothing but Aristotle's quinta essentia; which being unmixed, being that of which the gods and souls consisted, he calls it divinum cceleste, and concludes it eternal ; it being as he speaks, sejimcta ah omni mortali concretioiie. From which it is clear, that in all his inquiry about the substance of the soul, his thoughts went not beyond the four elements, or Aristotle's quinta essentia, to look for it. In all which, there is nothing of immateriality, but quite the contrary. ' ' He was willing to believe (as good and wise men have always been) that the soul was immortal; but for that it is plain he never thought of its immateriality, but as the eastern people do, who beheve the soul to be immortal, but have nevertheless no thought, no conception of its immateriality. It is remarkable what a veiy considerable and judicious author says in this case.* 'N"o opinion,' says he, *has been so univer- sally received as that of the immortality of the soul ; but its immateriality is a tmth, the knowledge whereof has not spread so far*. And indeed it is extremely difficult to let into the mind of a Siamite the idea of a pure spirit. This the missionaries, who have been longest amongst them, are positive in. All the Pagans of the East do truly believe that there remains something of a man after his death, which subsists independently and separately from his body. But they give extension and figure to that which remains, and attribute to it all the same members, all the same substances, both solid and liquid, which our bodies are composed of. They only suppose that the souls are of a matter subtile enough to escape being seen or handled. Such were the shades and the manes of the Greeks and the Romans. And it is by these figures of the souls, answerable to those of the bodies, that Virgil supposed .^Eneas knew Palinurus, Dido, and Anchises in the other world.' " This gentleman was not a man that travelled into those parts for his pleasure, and to have the opportunity to tell strange stories collected by chance, when he returned ; but one chosen on purpose (and he seems well chosen for the purpose) to inquire into the singularities of Siam. And he has so well acquitted himself of the commission which his Epistle Dedicatory tells us he had, to infoiTa himself exactly, of what wa« most remarkable there, that had we but such an account of other countries of the East as he has given us of this kingdom, which he was an envoy to, we should be much better acquainted than we are with the manners, notions, and religions of that pait of the world in- * Loub^re du Boyaume lie Siam, t. i. c. 19, § 4. APPENTOsr. 407 liabitpd iif uivilized nations, who want neither good sense nor aouteness of reason, though not cast into the mould of the logic and philosophy of our schools. " Bat to return to Cicero : it is plain that, in his inquiries about the eoul, his thoughts went not at all beyond matter. This the expressions that drop from him in several places of this book evidently show. For example, "That the souls of excellent men and women ascended into heaven; of others, that they remained here on earth,' u. 12. 'That the soul is hot, and warms the body ; that ou its leaving the body, it penetrates and divides, and breaks thiough our thick, cloudy, moist , air ; that it stops in the region of fire, and ascends no further, th^ equality of warmth and weight making that its proper place, where it is liouiiihed and sustained with the same things wherewith the stars are nourished and sustained, and that by the convenience of its neighbour- hood it shall there have a clearer view and fuller knowledge of the heaveuiy bodies, ' c. 19. 'That the soul also, from this height, shall have a pleasant and fairer prospect cf the globe of the earth, the dispo- sition of whose parts will then lie before it in one view,' c. 20. 'That it is hard to determine what conformation, size, and place the soul has in the body : that it is too subtile to be seen ; that it is in the human body, as in a house or a vessel, or a receptacle,' c. 22. All which are expressions that sufficiently evidence that he who used them had not in his mind separated materiality from the idea of the soxil. ' ' It may perhaps be replied, that a great part of this which we find in c. 19, is said upon the principles of those who would have the soul to be anijna infiaminata, inflamed air. I grant it. But it is also to be observed, that in this 19th and the two following chapters, he does not only not deny, but even admits, tliat b-j mateiial a thing as inflamed air may think. " The truth of the case, in short, is this: Cicero was willing to be- lieve the soul immortal ; but when he sought in the nature of the sou! itself something to establish this his belief into a certainty of it, he found himself at a loss. He confessed he knew not what the soul was ; but the not knowing what it was, he argues, c. 22, was no reason to conclude it was not. And thereupon he proceeds to the repetition of what he had said in his 6th book, de Eepub., concerning the so\il. The argument which, boiTOwed from Plato, he there makes use of, if it have any force in it, not only proves the soul to be immortal, but more than, 1 think, your lordship will allow to be true ; for it proves it to be sternal, and without beginning, as well as without end : Neque nata certe est, et cBterna est, says he. ' ' Indeed, from the faculties of the soul, he concludes right, ' that it IB of divine original.' But as to the substance of the soul, he at the end of this discourse concerning its faculties, c 25, as well as at the be- ginning of it, c. 22, is not ashamed to own his ignorance of what it is : Amma sit animus, ignite, nesrio; nee me pudet ut utos, fateri nescire quod nesmam. Illud, si ulla alia de re obscwra aMrma/re possem, sine anviaa, sive ignis sit amimws, eum, jwrarem, esse divimum, c. 2S. So that all the certainty he could attain to about the soul was, that he was con- fident there was something divine in it, i. e., there were faculties in the soul that could not lesult from the nature of matter, but must have 106 APPENDIX. theii original from a divine power; but yet tlioae qualities, divine as tlioy were, he aclmowledged might be placud in breath or fire, which 1 think your lordship will not deny to be material substances. So that all those divine qualities, which he so much and so justly extols in the soul, led him not, as appears, so much as to any the least thought of imma- teriality. This is demonstration that he built them not upon an ex- clusion of materiality out of the soul ; for he avowedly professes he does not know but breath or fire might be this thinking thing in us : and in all his considerations about the substance of the soul itself, he stuck in air or fire, or Aristotle's quiwta essentia; for beyond those it is evident he went not. " But with all his proofs out of Plato, to whose authority he defers so much, with all the arguments his vast reading and great parts could furnish him with for the immortality of the soul, he was so little satis- fied, so far from being certain, so far from any thought that he had or could prove it, that he over and over again professes his ignorance and doubt of it. In the beginning, he enumerates the several opinions of the philosophers, which he had well studied, about it. And then, full of uncertainty, says, Haruin scntentiarum quce vera sit, Deus aliquis viderit ; qiUB verisimillima magna qucestio, c. 11. And towards the latter end, having gone them all over again, and one after another examined them, he professes himself still at a loss, not knowing on which to pitch, nor what to determine. Mentis ades, says he, seipsam intuens, nonnun- quam hebescit, ob eamque causam contemplandi diligentiam omittinms. Itaqiie dubitans, circumspectan^, Tioisfitans, mvMa adversa revertenSf twnquam in rate in mari imimenso, nostra vehitw oratio, c. 30. And to conclude this argument, when the person he introduces as discoursing with him tells him he is resolved to keep firm to the belief of immor- tality, TuUy answers, o. 32, Laudo id quidem, et si nihil animis oportet considere: movemur enim scepe aliquo acute concluso ; labamus, TnutOr mtcsque sententiam clarioribus etiam in rebus; in his est enim aliqua obscuritas. " So immovable is that truth delivered by the Spirit of Truth, that though the light of nature gave some obscure glimmering, some uncer- tain hopes of a future state ; yet human reason could attain to no clear- , ness, no certainty about it, but that it was JESXTS CHRIST alone who had brought life and immortality to light, through the gospel.* Though we are now told, that to own the inability of natural reason to bring immortality to light, or, which passes for the same, to own principles upon which the immateriality of the soul (and, as it is urged, consequently, its immortality) cannot be demonstratively proved, does lessen the belief of this article of revelation, which JESUS CHRIST alone has brought to light, and which, consequently, the sci-ipture assures us is established and made certain only by revelation. This would not perhaps have seemed strange from those who are justly complained of, for slighting the revelation of the gospel, and therefore would not be much regarded, if they should contradict so plain a text of scripture, in favour of their all-sufficient reason. But what use the promoters of scepticism and in- fidelity, in an age so much suspected by your lordship, may make ol • 2 Tim. i. 10. APPENDIX. 409 »hat comes fii-oni cne of your great authority and learning, maj deserva your consi(^ration. ' ' And thus, my lora I hope I have satisfied you concerning Cicero's opinion about the soul, in his first book of Tusculan Questions ; which, though I easily believe, as your lordship says, you are no stranger to, yet I humbly conceive you have not shown (and upon a careful perusal of that treatise again, I think I may boldly say you cannot show) one word in it that expresses anything like a notion in TuUy of the soul's im- materiality, or its being an immaterial substance. " From what you bring out of Virgil, your lordship concludes,* ' that he, no more than Cicero, does me any kindness in this matter, being both asserters of the soul's immortality.' My lord, were not the question of the soul's immateriality, according to custom, changed here into that of its immortality, which I am no less an asserter of than either of them, Cicero and Virgil do me all the kindness I desired of them in this mat- ter ; and that was to show that they attributed the word »piritus to the soul of man, without any thought of its immateriality j and this the verses you yourself biing out of Virgil,+ ' Et cum frigida mors animae seduxerit ai-tus, Omnibus umbra locis adero; dabis, improbe, pcenas,' confirm, as well as those I quoted out of his sixth Book ; and for this M. de la Loubfere shall be my witne.ss, in the words above set down out of him ; where he shows that there be those amongst the heathens of our days, as well as Virgil and others amongst the ancient Greeks and Ro- mans, who thought the souls or ghosts of men departed did not die vrith the body, without thinking them to be perfectly immaterial ; the latter being much more incomprehensible to them tiian the former. And what Virgil's notion of the soul is, and that corpus, when put in con- tradistinction to the soul, signifies nothing but the gross tenement of flesh and bones, is evident from this verse of his . minate anything but nonsense. p. MALEBRiNCHE's OPINION. 429 26. In tte next paragraph he calls them " beings, repre- sentative beings." But whether these beings are substances, modes, or relations, I am not toldj and so by being told they are spiritual beings, T know no more but that they are something, I know not what, and that I knew before. 27. To explain this matter a little further, he adds : " It must be observed, that it cannot be concluded that souls see the essence of God in that they see all things in God ; be- cause what they see is very imperfect, and God is very per- fect. They see matter divisible, figured, (fee, and in God there is nothing divisible and figured : for God is all being, because he is infinite and comprehends all things ; but he is not any being in particular. Whereas what we see is but some one or more beings in particular; and we do not at all comprehend that jjerfect simplicity of God which contains all beings. Moreover, one may say, that we do not so much • see the ideas of things as the things themselves, which the ideas represent. For when, for example, one sees a square, one says not that one sees the idea of a square which is united to the soul, but only the square that is without." I do not pretend not to be short-sighted; but if I am not duller than ordinary, this paragraph shows that P.M. him- self is at a stand in this matter, and comprehends not what it is wee in God, or how. In the fourth chapter he says, in express words, that " it is necessary that at all times we should have actually in ourselves the ideas of all things."* And in this very chapter, a Uttle lower, he says, that " all beings are present to our minds," and that we have " general ideas antecedent to particular." And in the eighth chapter, that we are never without the " general idea of being;" and yet here he says, " that which we see is but one or more beings in particular." And after having takeu a great deal * This strange hypothesis is thus stated by Malebranche : — "II est necessau'e qu'en tout temg nous ayons actuellement dans nous mfimes les iddes de toutes choses, puisqu'en tout terns nous pouvons penser h toutes choses: oe que nous ne pourrions pas, si nous ne les appercevions d^ja confus^ment, c'est k-dire si un nombre infini d'iddes n'^toit present k notre esprit." (L. III. pt. 2, chap. iv. t. i. p. 367.) To this notion he again alludes in chap. vi. p. 366, where he says : "II est con- stant, et tout le monde le S9ait par experience, que lors que nous Toulons peDser k quelque chose en particulier, nous envisageons d'abourd toua les €tre, et nous nous appliquons e'^sjite k la consideration de I'objet 430 AS ExskJcrs'ATiojr of of pains to prove, that "■vre cannot possibly see things dMaa- sdve^ but only ideas." here he teDs us " we do not so much see the ideas of things as the things themselves." In this uncertainty of the author -what it is we see, I sun to he ex- cased if my eves see not more dearly in his hypothesis than he himself does. iJi. He fitrthBT tells ns in this sixth chapter, that - we see all beings, because Glod wills that that which is in. him that represents them should be discovered to us." This tells us only, that there are ideas of things in God, and that we see them when he pleases to discover them; but what does this show us more of the nature of those ideas, or of the discovery of them, wherein that consists, than he that says. without pretending to know what they are, or how they are made, that ideas are in our minds when Grod pleases to pro- duce them there, by such motions as he has appointed to do it? The next argument for our ^ Seeing all things in GSod," is in these words : " But the strongest of all the reasons is the manner in which the mind perceives all things. It is evident, and all the world knows it by experience, that when we would tTiTTik of anything in particular, we at first casi our view upon ail beings, and afterwards we apply our- selves to the consideration of the object which we desire to think on." This argument has no other effect on me, but to make me doubt the more of the truth of this doctrine. Kist, Because this, which he calls the sttvngesi reason ofaU, is built upon matter of fact, which I connot find to be so in myself I do not observe, that when I would think of a triangle I first think of all beings; whether these words OfH 8a»ni7? be to be taken here in their proper sense, or very im- properly for be-in^ in generaL If or do T think my countiy neighbours do so, when they first wake in the morning, who, I imagine, do not find it impossible to think of a lame horse que no'js souhaitons de voir." It would not be easy to exceed the cool hardihood of this assertion, though the object of Malebranche in mjiifcing it is perfectly intelligible ; for since he maizitains that the substance of God is intimately united with our souls ; and since the ideas, or ardie- types of all things, past, present, and to eome^ are unquestionably i& God. it follows as a necessary consequence of his theoiy. that, as the mind of God is open to our contemplation, like an inSnite mjiror, wa must be able to perceive, however dimly and obscurely, whateveir ioiages, so to speak, are painted there. p. ILUVSBRANCHE S OFINIOX. 431 they have, or their blighted com, till they have run over in their miuds all beitigs that are, aad then pitch on Dapple; or else begin to think of being in general, which is being abstracted Scora all its inferior species, before they come to think of the fly in their sheep, or the tares in tiieir com. For I sun apt to think that the greatest part of mankind very seldom, if ever at all, think of being in general, i.e., abstracted from all its inferior species and individuals. But taking it lo be so, that a carrier when he would think of s remedy for his galled hoise, or a foothoy for an excuse f<» some fault he has committed, begins with casting his eye upon all things;* how does this make out the conclusion? Therefore "we can desire to see all objects, whence it follows, that aU beings are present to our minds." Which presence signifies that we see them, or else it signifies nothing at aU, They are all actually always seen by us ; which, how true, let every one judge. iO. The words wherein he pursues this argument stemd thus : •• Xow it is indubitable that we cannot desire to see any particular object without seeing it already, although confusedly, and in generaL So that being able to desire to see all beings, Kimetimes one, sometimes another, it is certain that all beings are present to our spirits ; and it seems all beings could not be present to our spirits but because God is present to them, L e., he that contains aU things in the simplicity ot his being." 1 must leave it to others to judge how far it is blamable in me, but so it is, that I cannot make to myseK the linlrR of this chain to hang together ; and methinks if a man would have studied obscurity, he could not have writ more unintelligible than this. " We can desire to see all beings, sometimes one, sometimes another ; therefore we do already see all things, because we cannot desire to see any particular object, but what we see already confusedly and in general." The discourse here is about ideas, which he says are real things, and we see in God. In taking this along with me, to make it prove anything to his purpose, the argument must, as it seems to me, stand thus. We can desire to have all ideas, sometimes one, sometimes * This hmnorons ■way of illiist'-ating the philosophy of Miilebranche though it may not be thought a sufficient refutation, helps nevertheless to show its ab^Qidit;. 432 AN EXAMINATIOSr OP anotlier; therefore we have already all ideas, because we cannot desire to have any particular idea, but what we have already confusedly and m general. What can be meant here by having any pa/rticula/r idea confusedly amd in general, I confess I cannot conceive, unless it be a capacity in us to have them; and in that sense the whole argument amounts to no more but this : We have all ideas, because we ai'e capable of having all ideas, and so proves not at aU that we actually have them, by being united to God, yfho con- tains them all in the simplicity of his being. That anything else is, or can be meant by it, I do not see ; for that which we desire to see, being nothing but what we see already, (for if it can be anything else, the argument falls, and proves nothing,) and that which we desire to see being, as we are told here, something particular, sometimes one thing, some- times another; that which we do see must be particular too; but how to see a particular thing in general, is past my com- prehension. I cannot conceive how a blind man has the particular idea of scarlet confusedly or in general, when he has it not at all ; and yet that he might desire to have it I cannot doubt, no more than I doubt that I can desire to per- ceive, or to have the ideas of those things that God has prepared for those that love him, though they be such as eye hath not seen, nor ear hath heard, nor hath it entered into the heart of man to conceive, such as I have yet no idea of. He who desires to know what creatures are in Jupiter, or what God hath prepared for them that love him, hath, it is true, a supposition that there is something in Jupiter, or in the place of the blessed ; but if that be to have the par- ticular ideas of things there, enough to say that we see them already, nobody can be ignorant of anything. He that hath seen one thing hath seen all things; for he has got the general idea of something. But this is not, I' confess, sufficient to convince me, that hereby we see all things in the simplicity of God's being, which comprehends all things. For if the ideas I see are all, as our author tells us, real beings in him, it is plain they must be so many real distinct beings in him; and if we see them in him, we must see them as they are, distinct particular things, and so shall not see them confusedly and in general. And what is it to see any idea (to which I do not give a name) confusedly, is what ?. MiLEBKANCHE's OPINIOir 433 I do not V, ell understand. What I see, I see, and the idea I see is distinct from all others that are not the same with it : besides, I see them as they are in God, and as lie shows them me. Are they in Grod confusedly — or does he show them to me confusedly 1 30. Secondly, This seeing of all things, because we can de- sire to see all things, he makes a proof that they a/re present to our minds; and if they he present, tliey can no ways he present hut hy the presence of God, who contains them in all the simplicity of his heing. This reasoning seems to be founded on this, that the reason of seeing all things is their being present to our minds; because God, in whom they are, is present. This, though the foundation he seems to build on, is liable to a very natural objection, which is, that then we should actually always see all things, because in God, who is present, they are all actually present to the mind. This he has endeavoured to obviate, by saying we see all the ideas in God which he is pleased to discover to us; which indeed is an answer to this objection; but such an one as overturns his whole hypothesis, and renders it useless and as unintelli- gible as any of those he has for that reason laid aside. He pretends to explain to us how we come to perceive anything, and that is, by having the ideas of them present in our minds; for the soul cannot perceive things at a distance, or remote from it ; and those ideas are present to the mind only because God, in whom they are, is present to the mind. This so far hangs together, and is of a piece; but when after this I am told, that their presence is not enough to make them be seen, but Gk>d must do something further to discover them to me, I am as much in the dark as I was at first; and all this talk, of their presence in my mind explains nothing of the way wherein I perceive them, nor ever will, till he also makes me understand what Grod does more than make them present to my mind, when he discovers them to me. For I think nobody denies, I am sure I affirm, that the ideas we have, are in our minds by the will and power of God, though in a way that we conceive not, nor are able to comprehend. God, says our author, is strictly united to the soul, and so the ideas of things too. But yet that presence or union of theirs is not enough to make them seen, but God must show or exhibit them; and what does God do more than make VOL. 11. 2 w 434 AN EXAMINATIOi' OP them present to the mind ■when he shows them? Of that there us nothing said to help me orer this difficulty, but that when God shows them, we see them; which, in short, seepis to me to say only thus much, that when we have these ideas we have them, and we owe the having of them to our Maker, which is to say no more than I do with my ignorance. We have the ideas of figures and colours by the operation of exterior objects on our senses, when the sun shows them us; but how the sun shows them us, or how the light of the sun produces them in us ; what, and how the alteration is made in oui- souls, I know not, nor does it appear, by anything our author says, that he knows any more what God does when, he shows them us, or what it is that is done upon our minds, since the presence of them to our minds, he confesses, dpea it not. 31. Thirdly, One thing more is incomprehensible to me in this matter, and that is how the simplicity of Gods being should contain in it a variety of real beings, so that the soul can discern them in him distinctly one from another; it being said in the fifth chapter, that the ideas in God are not different from, God himself. This seems to me to express a simplicity made up of variety, a thing I cannot understand. God I believe to be a simple being, that by his wisdom knows all things, and by his power can do all tilings ; but how he does it I think myself less able to comprehend, than to con- tain the ocean in my hand, or grasp the universe with my span. Ideas are real beings, you say; if so, it is evident they, must be distinct real beings; for there is nothing more cer- tain than that there are distinct ideas ; and they are in God, in whom we see them. There they are, then, actually dis- tinct, or else we could not see them distinct in him. Now these distinct real beings that are in God, are they either parts or modifications of the Deity, or comprehended in him as things in a place? For besides these three, I think we can scarce think of another way wherein we can conceive them to be in him, so that we can see them. For to saj they are in him eminenter, is to say they are not in him actually and really to be seen; but only if they are in hini eminenter, and we see them only in him, we can be said to see them only eminenter too. So that though it cannot be denied that God sees and knows all things, yet when we say p. MiLEBRAUCHE's OPUflOlT. 435 vre see all things in hira, it is b\it a metaphorical expression to cover our ignorance, in a way that pretends to explain our knowledge; seeing things in God signifying no more than that we perceive them we know not how. 32. He further adds, that he " does not believe that one can well give an account of the manner wherein the mind knows many abstract and general truths, but by the pre- sence of him who can enlighten the mind after a thousand different fashions." It is not to be denied that' God can enlighten our minds after a thousand different fashions; and it cannot also be denied that those thousand different fashions may be such as we comprehend not one of them. The ques- tion is, whether this talk of seeing all things in God does make us clearly, or at all, comprehend one of them ; if it did so to me I should gratefully acknowledge that then I was ignorant of nine hundred and ninety-nine of the thou- sand, whereas I must yet confeis myself ignorant of them all. 33. The next paragraph, if it prove anything, seems to me to prove that the idea we have of God is God himself, it being something, as he says, uncreated. The ideas that men have of God are so very different, that it would be very hard to say it was God himself. Nor does it avail to say they would all have the sajne, if they would apply their minds to the contemplation of him; for this being brought here to prove that God is present in all men's minds, and that there- fore they see him, it must also, in my apprehension, prove that he being immutably the same, and they seeing him, must needs see him all aUke. 34. In the next section we are told that we have " not only the idea of infinite, but before that of finite." This being a thing of experience everyone must examine himself; and it being my misfortune to find it otherwise in myself, this argument, of course, is like to have the less effect on me, who therefore cannot so easily admit the inference, viz., " Thus the mind perceives not one thing, but in the idea it has of infinite." And I cannot but believe many a child can tell twenty, have the idea of a square trencher, or a round plate, and have the distinct clear ideas of two and three, long before he has any idea of infinite at all. 35. The last argument which he tells us is a demonstration that we see aU things in God, is this ; " God has made all 2 f2 436 AK EXAMIXAIION OF things for liimself j hut if God made a spirit or mind, and gave it the sun for its idea, or the immediate object of its knowledge, God -would have made that spirit or mind for the sun, and not for himself." The natural inference from this argument seems to me to be this : therefore God has given himself for the idea, or immediate object of the knowledge of all human minds. But eixperience too manifestly con- tradicting this, our author hath made another conclusion, and says thus : " It is necessary, then, that the light which he gjves the mind, should make us know something that is in him ;" v. g., because " all things that come from God can- not be but for God." Therefore a covetous man sees in God the n^oney, and a Persian the sun that he worships ; and thus God is the mmiediate object of the mind, both of the one and the other. I confess this demonstration is lost on me, and I cannot see the force^of it. All things, it is true, are madfe for God, i. e., for his glory; and he will be glorified even by those rational beings who would not ajjply their faculties to the knowledge of him. 36. But the next paragraph explains this: "God could not then make a soul for to know his works, were it not that that soul sees God after a fashion in seeing his works;" just after such a fashion that if he never saw more of him he would never know anything of a God, nor oelieve there was any such being. A child, as soon as he is bom, sees a can- dle, or before he can speak, the ball he plays with ; these he se^s vn Ood, whom he has yet no notion of. Whether this be enough to make us say that the mind is made for God, and this be the proof of it, other people must judge for them- selves. T must own, that if this were the knowledge of God, which intelligent beings were made for, I do not see but they might be made for the knowledge of God without knowing anything of him; and those that deny him were made for the knowledge of him. Therefore I am not convinced of the truth of what follows, that " we do not see any one thing but by the natiiral knowledge which we have of God." Which seems to me a quite contrary way of arguing to what the apostle uses, where he says, that " the invisible things of God are seen by the visible things that he has made." For it Seems to me a quite contrary way of arguing, to say, we see Ihe Creator in or by the creatures, and we see the creatures p. mausbranche's opinion. 437 in the Creator. The apostle begins our knowledge iu the creatures, which leads us to the knowledge of God, if we will make use of our reason : our author begins our knowledge in Gfod, and by that leads us to the creatui-es. 37 But to confirm his argument he says: "All the parti- cular ideas we have of the creatures are but limitations of the idea of the Creator." As for example, I have the idea of the solidity of matter, and of the motion of body, what is the idea of Gad that either of these limits? And when I think of the number ten, I do not see how that any way concerns or limits the idea of God. 38. The distinction he makes a little lower between senti- tnent and idea, does not at all clear to me, but cloud his doc- trine. His words are : " It must be observed that I do not say that we have the sentiment of material things, in God, but that it is from God that acts in jK; for God knows sen- sible things, but feels them not. When we perceive any sensible thing, there is in our perception sentiment and pure idea." If by sentiment, which is the word he uses in French, he means the act o&. sensation, or the operation of the soul in perceiving; and by pure idea, the immediate object of that perception, which is the definition of ideas he gives us here in the fii'st chapter, there is some foundation for it, taking ideas for real beings or substances. But taken thus, I cannot see how it can be avoided, but that we must be said to smell a rose in Grod, as well as to see a rose in God; and the scent of the rose that we smell, as well as the colour and figure of the rose that we see, must be in God; which seems not to be his sense here, and does not well agree with what he says concerning the ideas we see in God, which I shall consider in its due place. If by sentiment here, he means something that is neither the act of perception nor the idea perceived, I confess I know not what it is, nor have any con- ception at all of it. ^\Tien we see and smeU a violet, we perceive the figure, colour, and scent of that flower. Here I cannot but ask whether all the.'se three ai-e pnre ideas, or all sentime.its ? If they are all ideas, then, according to his doc- trine, they are all in-God ; and then it yriU. follow that, as I see the figure of the violet in God, so also I see the colour of it, and smell the scent of it in God, which way of speaking he does not allow, nor can I blame him. For it shows » i"^ AS K\ VMTN-ATIOy OF little too plainly the absm-dity of that dootriue, if he should say we smell a violet, taste wormwood, or ttvl cold in God, and yet I can find no ivAsoa why the action of one of our senses is applioil only to God, when we use them all as well ss our eyes in. receiving ideas. If the figuiv, colour, and ?[iLeU are all of them sentiments, then they ai-e none of them in God. and so this whole business of seeing in Gxxl is out of dooi-s. If (as, by wheit he says in his i."c*i (/vioyc-nwn?^;, ic appeal's to me to be his meaning) the figiuis of the "violet l>e to be taken for an idc-a, but its cofoiic and *'»««// for ft ititnents, I confess it puzzles me to know by what rule it is that in a ■(-iolet tlie purple colour, whereof whilst I write this I seem to have as clear an idea in my miud as of its tigure, is not as much an idea as the tlgure of it ; especially, since he tells me in the fii-st chapter here, wliich is concerning the nature of ideas, that by this word idea he understands here nothing else but what is the immediate or nearest object of the mind when it peroeiTes anything, 39. The " sentiment," says he, in the next words, '• is a modification of our soul.' This ward tnodi/ication here, that comes in for explication, seems to me to signify nothing more than the word to be explained by it ; v. g,, I see the purple colour of a violet; this, says he, is a srintiment: I de- siiv to know what seiUinwnt is; that, s;tys he, is a nuxilrixi- iioa of the smtl. I take the word, and desiiv to see what I can conceive by it concerning my soul; and here, I confess, I can conceive nothing more, but that I have the idea of purple in my mind, which I had not before, without being able to apprehend anything ^e mini does or suffers in this, besides barely having the idea of purple ; and so the gi^od word modijication signifies nothing to me more than I knew before ; v. g., that I have now the idea of purpile in it, which I had not some minutes since. So that though they say sensations are modifications of the mind : vet, havins no manner of idea what that modification of the mind is, distinct from that very sensation, v. g., the sensation of a red colour or a bitter taste, it is plain this explication amounts to no more than that a sensation is a sensation, and the sensation of red or bitter is the sensation of i-ed or bitter; for if I have no other idea wheu J say it is a modification of the mind than when I say it is tho sensation of i-cJ or bitier, it is plain sen- p, malebraxche's opixiox. 433 satlon and modification stand both for ihe same idea, and f\ are but two names of one and the rame thing. But to exa- mine their doctrine of modification a little further. Different Bentiments are different modifications of the mind. The mind or soul that perceives is one immaterial indivisible substance. Now I see the white and black on this paper, I hear one singing in the next room, I feel the warmth of the fire I sdt by, and I taste an apple I am eating, and aU this at the same time. Xow I ask, take modification for what you please, can the same unextended indivisible substance have different, nay, inconsistent and opposite (as these of white and black must be) modifications at the same time? Or must we sup- pose distinct parts in an indivisible substance, one for black, another for white^ and another for red ideas, and so of the rest of those infinite sensations which we have in sorts and degrees; all which we can distinctly perceive, and so aro distinct ideas, some whereof are opposite, as heat and cold, which vet a man may feel at the same time? I was ignorant before how sensation was performed in us; this they caU an explanation of it. Must I say now I imderstand it better? If this be to cure one's ignorance, it is a very slight disease, and the charm of two or three insignificant words will at any time remove it, probatum est. But let it signify what it will when I recollect the figure of one of the leaves of a violel , is not that a new modification of my soul, as well as when I think of its purple colour? Does my mind do or suffer no- thing anew when I see that figure in Grod? 40. The idea of that figure, you say, is in Grod. Let it bo so; but it may be there and I not see it; that is allowed; when I come to see it, which I did not before, is there no new modification, as you call it, of my mind ? If there be, then, seeing of figure in God, as well as having the idea of purple, is a Tnodificaium- of the mind, and this distinction signifies nothing. If seeing that figure in God now, which a minute or two since I did not see at all, be no new modifica- tion oralteration in my mind, no different action or passion from what was before, there is no difference made, in my apprehension, between seeing and not seeing. The ideas of figures, our author says, are in God, and are real beings iu Gcod ; and God being united to the miud, these are al^o united to it. This all seems to me to iiave something very 440 AN EXAUIXATION OF obscui-e and unconceivable in it, when I come to examino particulars j but let it be granted to be as clear as any one would suppose it, yet it reaches not the main difficulty, which is in seeing. How, after all, do I see? The ideas are in God, they are real things, they are intimately imited to my mind, because God is so, but yet I do not see them. How at last, after all this preparation, which hitherto is ineffectual, do I come to see them 1 And to that I am told, " when God is pleased to discover them to me." This in good earnest seems to me to be nothing but going a great way about to come to the same place; and this learned circuit, thus set out, brings me at last no further than this : that I see, or perceive, or have ideas, when it pleases God I should, but in a way I cannot comprehend; and this I thought without all this ado. 41. This sentiment, he tells us in the next words, "it is God causes in us, and he can cause it in us although he has it not, because he sees in the idea that he has of our soul that it is capable of them." This I take to be said to show the difference between sentiments and ideas in us : v. g., figures and nuimhers are ideas, and they are in Gtod. Colours and smells, &c., are sentiments in u.s, and not ideas in God. First, " As to ourselves, I ask, why, when I recollect in my memory a violet, the purple colour as well as figure is not an idea in * me? The making, then, the picture of any visible thing in my mind, as of a landscape I have seen, composed of figure and colour, the colour is not an idea, but the figure is an idea, and the colour a sentiment. Every one, I allow, may use his words as he pleases; but if it be to instruct others, he must, when he uses two words where others use but one, ' show some ground of the distinction. And I do not find < but the colour of the marigold I now think of is as much the immediate object of my mind as its figure; and so, according ■ to his definition, is an idea. Next, as to God, I ask whether before the creation of the world the idea of the whole , marigold, colour as well as figure, was not in God? "God," says he, " can. cause those sentiments in us, because he sees, in the idea that he has of our soul, that it is capable of them." God, before he created any soul, knew all that ne would make it capable of He resolved to make it capable of having the perception of the colour as well M. MALEBRANCJE S OPINION. 441 08 figure of a marigold; lie had theu the idea of that colour that he resolved to make it capable of, or else he made it capable (with reverence let it be spoken) of he knew not what : and if he knew what it should be capable of, he had the idea of what he knew ; for before tho creation there was nothing but God, and the ideas he had. It is true the colour of that flower is not actually in Grod, no more is its figure actually in God ; but we that can consider no other understanding, but in analogy to our own, cannot conceive otherwise but as the ideas of the figure, colour, and situation of the leaves of a marigold is in our minds, when we think of that flower in the night when we see it not; so it was in the thoughts of God before he made that flower. And thus we conceive him to have the idea of the smell of a violet, of the taste of sugar, the sound of a lute or trumpet, and of the pain and pleasure that accom- panies any of these or other sensations which he designed we should feel, though he never felt any of them, as we have the ideas of the taste of a cherry in winter, or of the pain of a burn when it is over. This is what I think we conceive of the ideas in Grod, which we must allow to have distinctly represented to him all that was to be in time, and consequently tho colours, odours, and other ideas they were to produce in us. 1 cannot be so bold as to pretend to say what those ideas are in God, or to determine that they are real beings ; but this I think I ' may say, that the idea of the colour of a marigold or the motion of a stone are as much real beings in God as the idea . of the figure or number of its leaves. 42. The reader must not blame me for making use here all along of the word sentiment, which is our author's own,, and I understood it so little, that I knew not how to tians- late it into any other. He concludes, "that he believes there is no appearance of truth in any other ways of explain- ing these things, and that this of seeing all things in God is more than probable." I have considered, with as much in- difierency and attention as possible, and I must own it appears to me as little or less intelligible than any of tho rest ; and the summary of his doctrine, which he here sub- joins, is to me wholly incomprehensible. His words are; *• Thus our souls depend on God all manner of ways : for a>' 442 An EXAMl:TATIOiI OP it is he wtich makes them feel pleasure and pain, and aL other sensations, by the natural unicm which he has made between them and our bodies, which is nothing else but his decree and general will; so it is he, who, by the natural union which he has made betwixt the will of man and the representation of ideas, which the immensity of the Divine Being contains, makes them know all that they know; and this natural union is also nothing but his general will." This phrase, of the union of our wills to the ideas contained in God's immensity, seems to me a very strange one, and what light it gives to his doctrine I truly cannot find. It seemed so unintelligible to me, that I guessed it an error in the print of the edition I used, which was the quarto printed at Paris, 78, and therefore consulted the octavo, printed also at Paris, and found it wUl in both of them. Here again the immensity of the Divine Being being mentioned as that which ccmtains in it the ideas to which our vnlls are xmited ; which ideas being only those of quantity, as I shall show hereafter, seems to me to carry with it a very gross notion of this matter, as we have above remarked. But that which I take notice of principally here, is, that this union of our wills to the ideas contained in God's immensity, does not at all ex- plain our seeing of them. This union of our wills to the ideas, or, as in other places, of our soids to God, is, says he, nothing but the will of God. And after this union, our seeing them is only when God discovers them ; i. e., our having them in our minds is nothing but the will of God; all which is brought about in a way we comprehend not. And what, then, does this explain more than when one says our souls are united to our bodies by the will of God, and by the motion of some parts of our bodies'! — v. g., the nerves or animal spirits have ideas or perceptions produced in them, and this is the will of God. , Why is not this as intelligible and as clear as the other? Here is the will of God giving union and perception in both cases ; but how that perception is made, in both ways seems to me equally imcomprehensible. In one, God discovers ideas in himself to the soul united to him when he pleases; and in the other he discovers ideas to the soul, or produces perception in the soul united to tho body by motion, according to laws established by the good pleasure of his will ; but how it is done in the one or the p. malebranciie's opinion. 443 other I confess my incapacity to comprehend. So that I agree perfectly with him in his conclusion, that "there is nothing but God that can enlighten us ; but a clear compre- hension of the manner how he does it I doubt I shall not have, until I know a great deal more of him and myself than in this state of darkness and ignorance our souls are capable of. 43. In the next chapter (VII.) he tells us, " there are four ways of knowing;* the first is to know things by them- selves;" and thu.s, he says, " we know God alone;" and the reason he gives of it is this, because " at present he alone penetrates the mind, and discovers himself to it." First, I would know what it is to penetrate a thing that is unextended. These are ways of speaking, which taken from body, when they are applied to spirit, signify nothing, nor show us anything but our ignorance. To God's pene- trating our spirits, he joins his discovering himself ; as if one were the cause of the other, and explained it: but I not conceiving anything of the penetration of an unextended thing, it is lost upon me. But next God penetrates our souls, and therefore we see him hy a direct and immediate view, as he says in the following words. The ideas of all tilings which are in God, he elsewhere tells us, ai-e not at all different from God himself; and if God's penetrating our minds be the cause of our direct and immediate seeing God,, we have a direct and immediate view of all that we see ; for we see nothing but God and ideas ; and it is impossible for us to know that there is anything else in the universe ; for since we see, and can see nothing but God and ideas, how can we know there is anything else which we neither do nor can see? But if there be anything to be understood by this penetration of our souls, and we have a direct view of God by this penetration, why have we not also a direct and * On this subject Malebranche states his views briefly and di.itinctly. " Afin d'abreger et d'dolah-cir le sentiment que je viensd'^tablirtonchant la manifere, dont 1' esprit apperc^oit tous les (fifiKrens objeta de sa connois- eance, il est n^oessaire que je distingue en lui quatre maniferes de eon- noltre. La premiere est de connoltre les choses par elles-m^mes. La seconde de les connoltre par leurs id^es, c' est- k- dire, comme je I'entens ioi, par quelque chose qui soit different d'elles. La troisi^me de les connoltre par conscience, on par sentiment int^rieur. La quatri^me da les connoltre par conjecture. ',T. i. p. 373.) — Ed. 444 jls examination or immediate view of other separate spirits besides Qod? To this he says, that there is none but God alone who at present penetrates our spirits. This he says, but I do not see for •what reason, but because it suits with his hypothesis : but he proves it not, nor goes about to do it, unless the direct and immediate view, he says, we have of God, be to be taken as a proof of it. But what is that di/rect and immediate view we have of God that we have not of a cherubim?* The ideas of being, power, knowledge, goodness, duration, make up the complex idea we have of one and of the other; but only that in the one we join the idea of infinite to each simple idea, that makes our complex one, but to the other, that of finite. But how have we a more direct or immedmte view of the idea of power, knowledge, or duration, when we consider them in God than when we consider them in an angel? The view of these ideas seems to be the same. In- deed we have a clearer proof of the existence of God than of a cherabim ; but the idea of either, when we have it in our minds, seems to me to be there by an equally direct amd inur mediate view. And it is about the ideas which are in our minds that I think our author's inquiry here is, and not about the real existence of those things whereof we have ideas, which are two very remote things. 44. " Perhaps it is God alone," says our author, " who can enlighten our minds by his substance." When I know what the substance of God is, and what it is to be enlightened hy that substance, I shall know what I also shall think of it ; but at present I confess myself in the dark as to this matter; nor do these good words of substance and enlighten- ing, in the way they are here used, help me one jot out of it. 45. He goes on—" One cannot conceive," says he, " that anything created can repressnt what is infinite." And I cannot conceive that there is any positive comprehensive idea in any finite mind that does represent it fully and clearly aa it is. I do not find that the mind of man has infinity, posi- tively and fully represented to it, or comprehended by it; which must be, if his argument were true, that therefore God enlightens our minds by his proper substance; because no created thing is big enough to represent what is infinite; t It should have been chervb ; ihervhim in the plural. — Ed. V. malebrasche's opinion. 445 and tnerefore what makes us conceive his infinity, is the presence of his own infinite substance in our minds; which to me manifestly supposes that we comprehend in our minds God's infinite substance, which is present to our minds; for if this be not the force of his argument, where he says, "Nothing created can represent what is infinite; the Being that is without bounds, the Being immense, the Being uni- versal, cannot be perceived by an idea, i. e., by a particular being, by a being different from the universal infinite Being itself." It seems to me that this argument is founded on a supposition of our comprehending the infinite substance of (iod in our minds, or else I see not any force in it, as I have already said. I shall take notice of one or two things in it that confound me, and that is, that he calls God here tlie wni- versal Being ; which must either signify that Being which contains, and is made up as one comprehensive aggregate of all the rest, in which sense the universe may be called tht tmiversal Being; or else it must me&,n being in general, which is nothing but the idea of Being abstracted from all inferior divisions of that general notion, and from all particular ex- istence. But in neither of these senses can I conceive God to he the universal Being, siace I cannot think the creatures either to be a part or a species of him. Next he calls the ideas that are in QoA,pa/rticula/r Beings. I grant whatever exists is particular; it cannot be otherwise; but that which is par- ticular in existence may be universal in representation, which I take to be all the universal beings we know, or can con- ceive to be. But let wniversal and pa/rticula/r beings be what they v?ill, I do not see how our author can say that God is an wniversal Being, and the ideas we see in him pa/rtioula/r beings ; since he in another place tells us, that the ideas we see in God are not at all different from God. " But," says he, " as to particular beings, it is not hard to conceive that they can be represented by the infinite Being which contains them, and contains them after a very spiritual manner, and consequently very intelKgible." It seems as impossible to me, that an infinite simple Being, in whom there is no variety, nor shadow of variety, should represent a finite thing, as that a finite thing should represent an infinite; nor do I see how its " containing all things in it after a very spiritual manner makes it so very intelligible ;" since I understand not what 445 AN EXAMINATION' OP it is to contain a material thing spiritv,alli/, nor the manner how God contains anything in himself, but either as an ag- gregate contains all things which it is made up of; and so in- deed that part of him may be seen which comes within the reach of our view. But this way of containing all Mngs can by no means belong to God; and to make things thus visible in him is to make the material world a part of him, or else as having a power to produce all things; and in this way, it is true, God contains all things in himself, but in a way not proper to make the Being of God a representative of those things to us; for then his Being, being the repre- sentative of the effects of that power, it must represent to us all that he is capable of producing, which I do not find in myself that it does. 46. Secondly. " The second way of knowing things," he tells us, " is by ideas, that is, by something that is different from them ;" and thus we " know thiugs when they are not intelligible by themselves, either because they are corporeal, or because they cannot penetrate the mind, or discover them- selves to it ;" and this is the way " we know corporeal things." This reasoning I do not understand: First, Be- cause I do not understand why a line or a triangle is not as imtelligihle as anything that can be named ; for we must still carry along with us that the discourse here is about our per- ception, or what we have any idea or conception of in our own minds. Secondly, Because I do not understand what is meant by the penetrating a spirit ; and till I can comprehend these, upon which this reasoning is built, this reasoning can- not work on me. But from these reasons he concludes, " thus it is in God, and by their ideas that we see bodies and their properties ; and it is for this reason that the knowledge we have of them is most perfect." Whether others will think that what we see of bodies is seen in God, by seeing the ideas of them that are in God, must be left to them. Why I cannot think so I have shown; b»t the inference he tnakes here from it I think few will assent to, that we know bodies and their properties most perfectly.* For who is " On the impeifeotion of our knowledge of bodies it is unnecessaiy to dwell, the fresh discoveries which are continually made by natural philosophers being, in some sort, a demonstration of it. Malebranohe's notions, however, were not built upon experience, but fashioned to suit r. MALEBRASCHES OPISIOS. 4*7 there that can say he knows the properties either of tody in general, or of an- one particular body perfectly ] One pro- perty of body in general is to have parts cohering and united together, for wherever there is body there is cohesion of parts j but who is there that perfectly understands that cohe- sion! And as for particular bodies, who can say that he perfectly understands gold, or a loadstone, and all its pro- perties! But to explain himself he says, that "the idea we have of extension suffices to make us know all the pro- perties whereof extension is capable, and that we cannot desire to have an idea more distinct, and more fiuitful of extension, of figures, and of motions, than that which God has given us of them." This seems to me a strange proof that we see bodies and tlieir properties in God, and knoto them perfectly, because God has given us distinct and fi.-uitful ideas of extension, figure, and motion: for this had been the same, whether God had given these ideas, by showing them in himself or by any other way; and his sayings that God has gitxn us as distinct and fr x'pd lli-is of them as we can desire, seems as if our author himself had some other thoughts of them. If he thought we see them in God, he must think we see them as they are in themselves, and there would be no room for saying, God had given them us as cUMind as we could desire : the calling them fruiijid shows this yet more; for one that thiTikj; he sees the ideas of figures in God, and can see no idea of a figure but in God, with what thought csm he call any one of ih&aifecondii, which is said only of such things as produce others! which expres- the rest of his tteorv. He tr^itin^iTiq tiiat it is our ideas of bodies, and nog bodi^ thema^ves, that are the pror-er objects of tliis btanch of oar knowledge: "On connoit te chases par kurs idiSes. lor5.rj'clle5 ne soiit point int^ligiU^ par elles-mSmes, ?ois parce qu'elles st-m coqx}TeUes, soit parce qu ell^ ne peavent p^^ts^er Vesprit or se deconrrir a loi." (t. I. p. 373.) Xeverthel^s, thongh we come to the knowledge of bodied not immediately, but thiongh the medium of ideas, and owe the know- Ie>dge of our own micda to consciousness and direct sr^iay. he supposes tis to understand the nature of bodies much better than that of our own minds- '"Onpeut condnie," says he, "qa'encore que nous ernnoissons plus distinctement Texisteaice de notre ame que I'existence de cAcre ix-rps, et de celts; qui nous environnent: cepend;ait nous n'avons piis nne con- noissance si par6iite de la nature de Tame que de la aarure des ci:>n<* : et o^& peat servir k accurder les di^^rens sent^ens de ceux qui diseui q<^ n'y a rien qu'on connoisse mieoz qne Tame, et de oeux qui aasaroit qa'il n'y a rien qu'ils connoisent moins." ip. 376. i — Eli 448 A3f EXAanxATios of sion of Ii& seems to proceed only from this tiiooght in Lim, that when I have once goc the idea of extension. I can fiiama the idois of -srhat figjure^ and of \rhat bi^rn ess I pkase. And in this I agree with hun, as appears in TrKat I h»Te said, L ii d . But TQen this can by no means proceed from a supposition that I see these ii^ires ouk' in God; fiw tliere ther do not produce one another, btit are there, as it 'wier^ in their first pattern to be seen, just snch and so many as God is pleased to ^ow them to ns. Bat it "will be said, oar desire to see them is the occasional cause of God"s showinir them us, and so we see whatever njure we desire. Let it be s-'. this does not make anr idea fiamde, for here is no prod:iot:on of one oat of another : but as to the occasional cause, can anr one say that is so ] I, or our author, desire to see an angle next in greatnes to a rijht angle: did, upon this, God e-rer show him or me such an angle \ That God knows, or has in him- self the idea of such an angle, I think will not be denied : but that he ever showed it to any man, how much soever he desired it, T think maybe doabt^ But after all, how comes it by this means that we hare a ftrfhd hncid^ge cf htdies and iMr properties, when several men in the world have not the same idea of body, and this very author and I diner in iti He thinks bare extension lo be body, and I think ex- tension alone makes not body, but extension and solidity;* thus either he or I, one of us, has a wrong and imperfect knowledge of bodies and their properties. Por ii bodies be extension alone, and nothing else, I cannot conceive how they can move and hit one against another, or what can make dis- tinct surfeces in an uniform simple extension. A solid ex- tended thing I can conceive movable : but then, if I have a dear view of bodies and their properties in God, I must see the idea of solidity in God, which yet I thinV, by what our author has said in his Eclaircissements, he does not allow that we do. He says fiirther : " That, whereas the ideas of things that .<»re in God contain aU their properties, he that sees their ideas may see succe^vely ail their propertiK." This seems to me not to concern our ideas more, whedier \re see them in (Jod, or have them otherwise. Any idea that we have, whencesoever we have it, contains in it all the proper- * See Antoine Le Grand, Insdt. Piul08O|& IV. m. p. 150 ; Hobb«% £lemeuts of Philosophy, Ft. II. chap, viii — ^Eu p. MALEBKANCHES OPINION. 449 ties it has, which are nothing but the relations it has to other ideas, which are always the same. What he says concerning the properties, that we may successively know them, is equally true, whether we see them in God or have them by any other means. They that apply them as they ought to the consi- deration of their ideas, may successively come to the know- ledge of some of their properties; but that they may know cM their properties is more than I think the reason proves, which he subjoins in these words : " For when one sees the things as they are in Grod, one sees them always in a most perfect manner." We see, for example, in God, the idea of a triangle or a circle ; does it hence follow that we can know aU the properties of either of them? He adds, that the man- ner of seeing them " would be infinitely perfect, if the mind which sees them in God was infinite." I confess myself here not well to comprehend his distinction between seeing after a manner \tres-pa/rfaii\ inost perfect and infinitely perfect. He adds: "That which is wanting to the knowledge that we have of extension, figures, and motion is not a defect of the idea which represents it, but of our mind which considers it." If by ideai be meant here the real objects of our knowledge, I easily agree that the want of knowledge in us is a defect in our minds, and not in the things to be known. But if by ideas be here meant the perception or representation of things in the mind, that I cannot but observe in myself to be very imperfect and defective, as when I desire to perceive what is the substance of body or S])irit the idea thereof fails me. To conclude, I see not what there is in this paragraph that makes anything for the doctrine of " seeing all things in God." 47. " The third way of knowing is by consciousness,* or interior sentiments; and thus," he says, " we know our souls, and it is for this reason that the knowledge we have of them is imperfect ; we know nothing of our souls but what we feel within ourselves." This confession of our author brings me back, do what I can, to that original of all our ideas which my thoughts led me to when I writ my book, viz., sensation and reflection; and therefore I am forced to ask anyone who * According to Condillao, all knowledge ia based on consciousness. (Essai BUT I'Origine du Connoissances humaines, § 2, chap. i. p. 26.)— Ed. VOU 11 2 G 450 AN EXAMINATION OF is of our author'is principles, -whetlier God had not the idea of mine, or of a human soul, before he created it? Next, whe- ther that idea of a human soul be not as much a real being in God as the idea of a triangle? If so, why does not my soul, being intimately united to God, as well see the idea of my soul which is in him, as the idea of a triangle which is in him? And what reason can there be given why Grod shows the idea of a triangle to us, and not the idea of our souls, but this, that God has given us external sensation to perceive the one and none to perceive the other, but only intei'nal sensation to perceive the operation of the latter? He that pleases may read what our author says in the re- mainder of this and the two or three next paragraphs, and see whether it carries him beyond where my ignorance stopped ; I must own that me it does not. 48. '' This," [i. e., the ignorance we are in of our own souls,] says he, '•' may serve to prove that the ideas that represent anything to us that is without us, are not modifications of our souls; for if the soul saw all things by considering its own proper modifications, it should know more clearly its own essence, or its own nature, than that of bodies, and all the sensations or modifications whereof it is capable, than the figures or modifications of which bodies are capable. In the meantime it knows not that it is capable of any such sensation by sight as it has of itself, but only by experience ; instead that it knows that extension is capable of an infinite number of figures by the idea that it has of extension. There are, moreover, certain sensations, as colours and sounds, which the greatest part of men cannot discover whether they are modifications of the soul; and there are figures which all men do not discover by the idea of extension to be modifi- cations of bodies." This paragraph is, as he tells us, to prove, " that the ideas that represent to ns something without us are not modifications of the soul;" but instead of that, it seems to prove that figure is the modification of space, and not of our souls. For if this argument had tended to prove " that the ideas that represent anything without us were not modifications of the soul," he should not have put the mind's uot knowing what modifications itself was capable of, and knowing what figures space was capable of, in opposition one to another; but the antithesis must have lain in this, that p. malebbanohe's OPINIOir. 4-51 the miud knew it -was capable of the perception of figure ov motion without any modification of itself, but was not capa- ble of the perception of sound or colour without a modifica- tion of itself For the question here is not whether space be capable of figure, and the soul not; but whether the soul be capable of perceiving, or having the idea of figure, without a modification of itself, and not capable of having the idea of colour without a modification of itself. I think now of the figure, colour, and hardness of a diamond that I saw some time since : in this case, I desire to be informed how my mind knows that the thinking on, or the idea of the figure, is not a modification of the mind; but the thinking on, or having an idea of the colour or hardness is a modifi- cation of the mind. It is certain there is some alteration in my mind when I think of a figure which I did not think of before, as well as when I think of a colour that I did not think of before. But one I am told is seeing it in God, and the other a modification of my mind. But supposing one is seeing in God, is there no alteration in my mind between seeing and not seeing? And is that to be called a modifica- tion or no] For when he says seeing a colour, and hearing a sound, is a modification of the mind, what does it signify but an alteration of the mind fi-om not perceiving to per- ceiving that sound or colour? And so when the mind sees a triangle, which it did not see before, what is this but an alteration of the mind from not seeing to seeing, whether that figure be seen in God or no? And why is not this alteration of the mind to be called a modification, as well as the other? Or, indeed, what service does that word do us in the one case or the other, when it is only a new sound brought in without any new conception at all? For my mind, when it sees a colour or figure is altered, I know, from the not having such or such a perception to the having it ; but when, to explain this, I am told that either of these perceptions is a modification of the mind, what do I conceive more, than that from not having such a perception my mind is come to have such a perception? which is what I as well knew be- fore the word modification was made use of, which by its use has made me conceive nothing more than what I conceived before, 49. One thiEg 1 cannot but take notice of here by the by, ■2 Q 2 462 AN EXAMINATION OF that hfi says, that " the soul knows that extension is capable of aa iniiiiite number of figuras by the idea it has of exten- dion," ■which is true. And afterwards he says, that " there are no figures which all men do not discover, by the idea they have of extension, to be modifications of body." One would wonder why he did not say modifications of exten- sion, rather than, as he does, the modifications ofbody,t\iey being discovered hy the idea of extension; but the truth would not bear such an expression. Por it is certain that in pure space or extension, which is not terminated, there is truly no distinction of figures, but in distinct bodies that are termiii nated there are distinct figures, because simple space or extension, being in itself uniform, inseparable, immovable, has in it no such modification or distinction of figures. But it is capable, as he says, but of what ? Of bodies of all sorts of figures and magnitudes, without which there is no dis- tinction of figures in space. Bodies that are solid, separable, terminated, and movable, have all sorts of figures, and they are bodies alone that have them : and so figures are properly modifications of bodies, for pure space is not anywhere ter- minated, nor can be, whether there be or be not body in it, it is uniformly continued on. This that he plainly said here, to me plainly shows that body and extension are two things, though much of our author's doctrine be bmlt upon their being one and the same. 50. The next paragraph is to show us the difierence be- tween ideas and sentiments in this : that " sentiments axe not tied to words; so that he that never had. seen a colour or felt heat could never be made to have those sensations by all the definitions one could give him of them." This is true of what he calls sentiments, and as true also of what he calls ideas. Show me one who has not got by experience, L e., by seeing or feeling the idea of space or motion, and I will as soon by words make one who never felt what heat is, have a conception of heat, as he that has not by his senses perceived what space or motion is, can by words be made to conceive either of them. The reason why we are apt to think these ideas belonging to extension got another way than other ideas, is because our bodies being extended, we cannot avoid the distinction of parts in ourselves; and all that is for the support of ow lives being by motion applied to us, it is iiu- p. MALEBRANCHE's OPINIOiT. 453 possible to find any one who has not by experience got thosu ideas; and so by the use of language learned what words stand for them, which by custom came to excite them in his mind, as the names of heat and pleasure do excite, in the mind of those who have by experience got them, the ideas they are by use annexed to. Not that words or definitions can teach or bring into the mind one more than another of those I call simple ideas ; but. can by use excite them in those, who having got them by experience, know certain sounds to be by use annexed to them as the signs of them. 51. Fourthly. " The fourth way of knowing," he tells us, " is by conjecture, and thus only we know the souls of other men and pure intelligences:" i. e., we know them not at all; but we probably think there are such beings really existing in rermn natura* But this looks to me beside our author's business here, which seems to be to examine what ideas we have, and how we came by them. So that the thing here considered should, in my opinion, be, not whether there were any souls of men or pure intelligences anywhere existing, but what ideas we have of them, and how we came by them, For when he says, we know not angels, either in themselves, or by their ideas, or by consciousness, what in that place does angd sigiaiy'i What idea in him does it stand for? Oris it the sign of no idea at all, and so a bare sound without signification? He that reads this seventh chapter of his with attention, will find that we have simple ideas as far as our experience reaches, and no further. And beyond that we know nothing at all, no, not even what those ideas are that are in us, but only that they are perceptions in the mind, but how made we cannot comprehend. 52. In his Eclaircissements on the Nature of Ideas, p. 535, * ** De tous lea objets de n&tre connoissance, il ne nous reste plua que les ames dea autres hommea, et que lea purea intelligenoea ; et il eat manifeste que noua ne lea connoiasona que par conjecture nous ne lea connoisaona preaenfcement ni en ellea-m^mea ni par leura id^ea, et corame eUea aont diff^rentea de noua, iln'est pas possible que- noua lea connois- sona par conscience. Noua conjecturona que les ames dea autres hommea sont oouune la nfltre. Ce que noua aentona en noua-m^mea, nous pr^- tendons qu'ila le aentent, et m§me loraque cea sentimena n'ont point dc rapport au corps, nous aommea assurez que noua ne noua trompons point: parce que nous voyons en Dleu certaines id^es et certaines loix Immuable, aelon leaquelles noua sgavons avec certitude, que Dieu agil ^galement dana tous les eaprits," (p. 378 seq.) — iSi. AN EXAMINATION OP of the 4to edition, lie says, that " he is ceruaiti that the ideas of things are unchangeable." This I cannot comprehend, for how can I know that the jjicture of anything is like that thing, when I never see that which it represents? For if these words do not mean that ideas are true unchangeable representations of things, I know not to what purpose they are. And if that be not their meaning, then they can only signify, that the idea I have once had will be unchangeably the same as long as it recurs the same in my memory ; but when another different from that comes into my mind, it will not be that. Thus the idea of a horse, and the idea of a centaur, will, as often as they recur in my mind, be un- changeably the same ; which is no more than this, the same idea will be always the same idea; but whether the one ov the other be the true representation of anything that exists, that, upon his principles, neither our author nor anybody ■ else can know. 53. What he says here of universal reason, which ert- lightens every one, whereof all men partake, seems to me nothing else but the power men have to consider the ideas they have one with another, and by thus comparing them, find out the relations that are between them; and therefore if an intelligent being at one end of the world, and another at the other end of the world, will consider twice two and four together, he cannot but find them to be equal, i. e., to be the same number. These relations, it is true, are infinite, and God, who knows all things, and their relations as they are, knows them all, and so his knowledge is infinite. But men are able to discover more or less of these relations, only as they apply their minds to consider any sort of ideas, and to find out intermediate ones, which can show the relation of those ideas, which cannot be imm.ediately compared by juxta-positiou. But then what he means by that infinite reason which men consult, I confess myself not well to un- derstand. For if he means that they consider a part of those relations of things which are infinite, that is true; but then, this is a very improper way of speaking, and I cannot think that a man of his parts would use it to mean nothing else by it. If he means, as he says, p. 536, that this infinite and universal reason, whereof men partake, and which they consult, is the reason of God himself, I can by no means r. KAiitajKANCHETs OPINION. 465 aasent to it. First, Because I think we cannot say God reasons at all ; for he has at once a view of all things. Bu j reason is very far from such an intuition; it is a laborious and gradual progress in the knowledge of things, by com- paring one idea with a second, and a second with a third, vnt>r to prv.>- duce anvthing thsr invvlws not a contn»dietiou. He ala) kuow-s -what ^^-»? o;\u da Bnt -n-hiit is all this to ideas in hiin, »s real Knucs visibto bv \is* l\\l knew from eternity ho could pxxluoe a yvbhle. a mvishroom. and a u.a-.i. \\oi-e these, -vrhioh are distinct ido.is, jvirt of hi? simple osjoikv ! It seems then, we kitow very \TeIl the esseui-e of God. and use the -vrord SM»yi>' , -sv-hieh ev>mpreheuds all sorts of \-;\rioty iu a very proper wny. But G^\l kuo«- he eovild produce such apeatures : therefore -where sh;\ll we iilace those idecis he saw of them, bat in his own t-s,*:-ikv.' There those ideas exist ovl vmnfntir : and so they are the r-.-sA-'joir <;'" (t\>/. There the things thentsoh-es existe^l t<.v>, emineHi^r, and theretbre sdl the creatures as thoy really exist are the cscivvfit* o/ir.xL For if finite real beings of one kind, as ideas are svid to be, stre the essence of the intiuit* Onxl : other finite beiugs, as the weatures, may be also the oss^-uiv of Ox\l. Bnt after this isite we nmst talk when wo will allow oui^\"es to be iguo>- rant of nothing, bnt will know e-wu the knowlovige of God and the -way -^f his undorsftinding ! 11. The ••ossouoos of things, or ideas oKisting iu Oxxl."* There aiv many of them that crf^-* •'*» (Ah/ ; and so the sim- ple essei-ioe of Gxxl has aotually existing in it as giwu a variety of ideas as there are of creatuivs : all of them resd Iviiigs, and distinct one fiv>ni another'. If it Iv s;»vd, this means God csui and knows he can produce them, -what doth this s;iy more than e\-ery one s;»)"? ! If it doth s,ay moiv, and shows us not this infinite number of re;vl distinct Kni\g-s iu C\xl, so as to be his ^-ory ossonv.v, what is this letter than what thoso say who make G^xl to be nothing bnt the univoi-sc ;+ thou^ ♦ Ihid. j 21. p. <;5. + It h!>s beeu alnKidir observed, that the phiUvophy of M.-Uebranche, which Xonis !»py>««:s to have adopttxl. lies ojx»u to tho suspicion of Psm- theism. Among the numeixjus passagtv in the Kecheitehe lie la Teriie, which mi^ht l-e .adduced in support of tlv s vtew, is the t~ -Uowii-.i: : — '■ XlfaxitlueuK'maixiucr qu'ou ue jvut jv-js ovM\olure quo los t^prits \-v^venJ I'ossenoo do Dieu, de tv qu'ils Yv-»\-ent touttw choses en Pica, de oe qu'ils >oyeiit toutos oiuvsos ea Piou de cotto maui^ra. Paivo»|ue oo viu";is voyent est trosira(v«rfeit, ot quo Pio i ost ljn?s [«r!';>tt. Us \-\\vont de 1» matiere divisiblo. tSsrunfe io,. et il u'y a rieu en Diou qui Sv";t divisi'oie, ou tisrun' : o;>r Oiou ost tout otre, (vovo qu'il est infini et qu"U cvmiprend tout ; TOMS il ii\-st avicxm dtjw en ^vsrticiuier. Oepejidaut o« q»ie nc;ia VOTV»us u'ost qu'un ou plusiours i^'tri'* on partieultdr, ot novis ne o^nnnre- Bons point c*iu' siiuplicice p^uf.uto io Plou qui re«is_-u>e tous les eti-es."' KEilARKS UPON SOME O? MR. NORRIs's BOOIiS. ihb it be covered under unintelligible expressions of simplicity and variety at the same time, in the essence of God? But those who would not be thought ignorant of anything, to attain it, make God like themselves; or else they could not talk as they do, of " the mind of God," and the ideas in the mind of God, exhibitive of all the whole possibility of being."* 1 2. " It is in the divine nature that these universal natures, which are the proper object of science, are to be found; and consequently it is in God that we know all the truth which we know."+ Doth any universal iiature, therefore, exist? Or can anything that exists anywhere, or anyhow, be any other than singular? I think it cannot be denied that God having a power to produce ideas in us, can give that power to .another; or, to express it otherwise, make any idea the effect of any operation on our bodies. This has no contra- diction in it, and therefore is possible. But you will say, you conceive not the way how this is done. If you stand to that rule, that it cannot be done because you conceive not the manner how it is brought to pass, you must deny that God can do this, because you cannot conceive the manner how he produces any idea in us. If visible objects are seen only by God's exhibiting their ideas to our minds, on occasion of the presence of those objects what hinders the Almighty from exhibiting their ideas to a blind man, to whom, being set before his face, and as near his eyes, and in as good a light as to one not blind, they are, according to this supposi- tion, as much the occasional cause to one as to the other? But yet under this equality of occasional causes, one has tile idea, and the other not, and this constantly; which would give one reason to suspect something more than a presential occasional cause in the object. 13. Further, if light striking upon the eyes be but tho occas-ional cause of seeing, God, in making the eyes of so (t. i p. 365.) The system of Paniheism has always been in great favour with a certain class of philosopers, from the earliest dawn of specula- tion. Thus we find the ancient Egyptians had anticipated the funda- mental doctrine of Spinoza, so that, after carefully reviewing their theo- logy, Jablonski exclaims : — " Would you not imagine that Spinoza hac borrowed his system from the Egyptians ? " (Pantheon .iEgyptioriim, fc. i p. 36.) * Keason and Rdigion, Part L Contemp. V. ^ 30, p. 92, 93. + Ibid. Part 11. Contemp. II. ^ 30. p. 206. VOL. IL 2 U 4(56 REMARKS UPOK SOME OF ME. NOBEISS BOOKS. curious a structure, operates not by the simplest ways; for God could have produced visible ideas upon the occasion of light striking upon the eyelids or forehead. 14. Outward objects are not, when present, always occa- sional causes. He that has long continued in a room per- fumed with sweet odours, ceases to smell, though the room be filled with those flowers ; though as often as after a little absence he returns again, he smells them afresh. He that comes out of bright suushiae into a room where the curtains are drawn, at first sees nothing in the room; though those who have been there some time see him and everything plainly. It is hard to account for either of these pheno- mena, by God's producing these ideas upon the account of occasiotial causes. But by the production of ideas in the mind, by the operation of the object on the organs of sense, this difierenoe is easy to be explained. 15. Whether the ideas of light and colours come in by the eyes or no, it is all one as if they did; for those who have no eyes never have them. And whether or no God has appointed that a certain modified motion of the fibres, or spirits in the optic nerve, should excite, or produce, or cause them in us, call it what you please, it is all one as if it did; since where there is no such motion there is no such percep- tion or idea. For I hope they will not deny God the privi- lege to give such a power to motion if he pleases. Yes, say they, they be the occasional, but not the efficient cause; for that they cannot be, because that is in ejffect to say, he has given this motion in the optic nerve a power to operate on himself, but cannot give it a power to operate on the mind of man : it may by this appointment operate on himself, the impassable infinite Spirit, and put him in mind when he is to operate on the mind of man, and exhibit to it the idea which is in himself of any colour. The infinite eternal God is certainly the cause of all things, the fountain of all being and power. But because all being was from him, can there be nothing but God himself? or because all power was originally in him, can there be nothing of it commvmicated to his creatures? This is to set very narrow bounds to the power of God, and, by pretending to extend it, takes it away. For which (I beseech you, as we can comprehend) is the per- fectest power, to make a machine — a watch, for example— REMAKES was sosn: of mr. xoRnis's book^s. 467 that, when the ■watchmaker has ■withdrawn his hands, ehall go and strike by the fit contri-vance of the parts; or eUe re- quires that whenever the hand, by pointing to the hour, minds him of it, he should strike twelve upon the bell ! No machine of Gods making can go of itself. Why! because the creatures have no po'wer ; can neither move themselves, nor anything else. How then comes about all that ■sve see' Do they do nothing? Yes, they are the occusioiud causes h\ God, why he should produce certain thoughts and motions in them. The creatures cannot produce any idea, any thought. in man. How then comes he to perceive or think? God, upon the occasion of some motion in the optic nerve, exhibits the colour of a marigold or a rose to his mind. How came that motion in his optic nerve? On occasion of the motion of some particles of light striking on the retina, God pro- ducing it, and so on. And so, whatever a man thinks, God produces the thought; let it be infidelity, murmuiing, or blasphemy. The mind doth nothing; his mind is only the mirror that receives the ideas that God exhibits to it, and just as God exhibits them : the man is altogether passive in the whole business of thinking.* * This doctrine, scarcely at all modified, has been preached in our own day under the name of Socialism. Malebranche's exposition of it is most explicit eloquent, and pezsnasiTe. " Je sgal bien que Tame est capable de penser; mais je s;ai anssi qne I'^tendue est capable de figures ; Tame est capable de volenti comme la mati^re de mouvement. Mais de meme qu'il est faux que la mati^re, quoique capable de fig^ure et de mouvement, ait en elle-m€me une force, une faculU, une mUure, par laquelle elle se poisse mouyoir, on se donner tantot une figure ronde, et tantdt une quarrce: quoique Tame soit naturellement el essentiellement capable de connoissance et de volont^ il est faux qu elle ait des faculte* par lesquelles elle puisse produire en elle ses id&s, on son mouvement vers le bien. H y a bien de la difference entre £tre mobile et se moavoir: la mati^re de sa nature est mobile et capable de figures : elle ne peut m€me subsister sans figure. Mais elle ne se meut pas ; elle ne se figure pas ; elle n'a point de fiicult^ pour cela. L' esprit de sa nature est capable de mouvement et d'id^; J'en convieus. Mais il ne se meut pas; il ne s' Claire pas : c'est Dieu qui fait tout dans les esprits aussi-bien que dans les corps. Peut-on dire que Dieu fait les cfaangemens qui arrivent dans la mati^ie, et qn'il ne fait pas ceux qm airivent dans I'esprit ? £st-ce rendre h Dieu ce qui lui appartient, que d'^jandonner ^ sa disposition les demieis des &tres ? N^est-il pas ^gaie ment le mattre de toutes choses ? X'est-il pas la cr&teur, le conservar tenr, le seul veritable moteur des esprits aussi bien que des corps I Cert&ineirient il &it tout^ substances, accidens, £tres, manibres- Cu 2n2 4G8 REMAEKR TJPON SOME OF MR. NORP.rs's BOOKS. 16, A man cannot move his arm or his tongue; he has nc jinwer; only upon occasion, the man willing it, God moves it. Then man vnlls, he doth something; or else God, ujjon the occasion of something which he himself did before, pro- enfin il connolt tout; mais il ne connolt que ce qu'il fait. On lui 6te done sa conuaissanoe, si on borne son action." (Eclaircissement sur le tioiaieme livre, t. iii. p. 124.) This doctrine Mr. Robert Owen, in his Book of the New Moral World, also teaches, with the characteristic omission of certain tenns. " The feelings and convictions expeiienced by man are not produced or res;ulated by his will, but are the necessary effects of the action of circumstances upon his physical and mental nature. Hitherto the world has been governed under the supposition that the feelings and convictions have been produced by the choice of the individual, and that they are under the control of what is called free-will. The languages of all nations are filled with the terms, that you must love or hate, believe or disbelieve certain qualities and creeds, or if you disobey, you will be punished here and hereafter ; and for so loving, hating, believing, or disbelieving, men are now praised and rewarded, as though there wei'e great merit in so doing. Yet, from an in- vestigation of the facts connected with this subject, it appears that the feelings and convictions are inatincta of human nature, — instincts which every one is compelled to possess or receive, — and for which no man can have merit or demerit, or deserve reward or punishment." (chap. iiL p. 7.) The docti-ine of Eobhes, from whom the philosophers of Mr. Owen's school apppar to have boiTowed so much, does not quite square with the modem hypothesis on the subject of human laws. Hobbes maintains, indeed, that man acts under the impulse of dire necessity ; but argues, pleasantly enough, that he may, notwithstanding, be very justly punished for what he does : first, because all laws are just ; and second, because Ins example may deter others, though they also be of course obnoxious to the force of necessity. Let us, however, hear hiE own exposition, which places the absurdity of his reasoning in a more striking light thah almost any other language could do. "The necsBsity," he says, " of an action, doth not make the laws which prohibit it unjust. To let pass, that not the necessity, but the will, to break the law, maketh the action unjust ; because the law regardeth the will, and no other precedent causes of action. And to let pass, that no law can possibly be unjust ; inE-flnuch as every man maketh (by his consent) the law he is bound to keep ; and which consequently must be just, unless a man can be un- just to himself. I say, what necessaiy cause soever precede an action, yet if the action be forbidden, he that doth it willingly may be justly punished. For instance, suppose the law, on pain of death, prohibit stealing ; and that there be a man who by the strength of temptation is necessitated to steal, and is thereupon put to death ; does not this punishment deter others from theft ? Is it not a cause that others •teal not? Doth it not frame and make their wills to justice? Tc make the law is, therefore, to make a cause of justice, and to necessitate justice : and consequently, 'tis no injustice to make such a law." (Of Liberty and Necessity, English Works, vol. iv. p. 2&2, Molesworth'a "ditioD.) — ^Ed. REMARKS rrON- SOME OF MR. NORRIS'S r.ooKa 469 dnceJ this will and this notion in him. This is the hypo- thesis that cleare doubts, and brings iis at last to the rolit^ioii of HoV>bes and Spinoza; by resolving all, evon tlio thoughts and will of men, into an iri-esistiblo fatal necessity. Fov whether the original of it be trom the continned motion nt eternal all-doing matter, or from an omnipotent inmiaterial Being, whieh having begun matter and motion, continues it by the direction of occasions, which he himself has also made ; as to religion and moi-ality, it is j\ist tlie same thing Bnt we must know how everj-thing is brought to pass, and thus we ha\e it resolved without leaving any difficiilty to perplex us. But perhaps it would better become us to acknowledge our iguoi-.inee, thaa to talk such things boldly of the Hoy One 6f Israel, and condemn othei-s for not daring to be as unmnn- uerly as ourselves, 17. Ideas maybe real beings, though not substances; as motion is a real being, though not a substance; and it seem- probable that, in us, ideas depend on, and are some way oi other the etfect of motion ; since they are so fleeting, it being, its I have elsewhere observed, so hard and almost impossibb- to keep in our minds the same unvaried idea long together, unless when the object that produces it is jnesent to the senses; from which the same motion that first produced it, being continued, the idea itself may continue. IS. To excuse, theivfore, the ignorance I have owned of what our ideas are, any fiu-ther than as they are perceptions we experiment in ourselves; and the dull, \mphiIosophioal wav I have taken of examining their production, only so far »s experience and observation lead me, wherein my dim sight \\*ent not beyond stusiifioti and rcffcction. \9. l^nith* lies only in propositions. The foundation of this truth is the relation that is between our ideas. The knowledge of truth is that perception of the relation between our ideas to be as it is expressed. 20. The immiitabiliti/ of essences lies in the same sounds, supposed to stand for the s:\ine ideas. These things considered, would have saved this letirned discouise. '21. Whatever exists, whether in Ood or out of God, is eintfular.f 23. If no propositions should be made, there would be nc * See Keason and Keli?ion, ic. Piirt II. Contemp. II. j 29, p. 201 + Ibid., 30, p. 206. 470 EEMAKKS UPON SOME DF MR. NORRIS'S BOOKS. truth nor falsehoocl; thougli the same relations still between the same ideas, is a foundation of the immutability of truth* in the same propositions, whenever made. 23. What wonder is it that the same ideat should always be the same idea? For if the word triangle be supposed to have the same signification always, that is all this amounts to, 24. I "desire to knowif what things they are that Grod has prepared for them that love him?" Thei-efore I have some knowledge of them already, though they be such as " eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man to conceive." 25. If I " have all things actually present to my mind," why do I not know all things distinctly? 26. He that considers || the force of such ways of speaking as these : "I desire it — pray give it me — She was afraid of the snake, and ran away trembling" — will easily conceive how the meaning of the words desire and fea/r, and so all those which stand for intellectual notions, may be taught by words of sensible significations. 27. This, however otherwise in experience, should be so on this hypothesis : v. g., the uniformity of the ideas that different men have when they use such words as these, glory, worship, religion, are clear proofs that " God exhibited to their minds that part of the ideal world as is signified by that sign." 28. Strange ! that truth, being in any question but one, tlie more we discover of it the more uniform our judgments should be about it!% 29. This argues that the ground of it is the always immu- table relations of the same ideas. Several ideas that we have once got acquainted with, we can revive, and so they axe present to us when we please; but the knowledge of their relations, so as to know what we may aflSirm or deny of them, is not always present to our minds;, but we often miss truth, even after study. But in many, and possibly not the fewest, we have neither the ideas nor the truth constantly, or so much as at all present to our minds. And I think, I may, without any disparagement to the author, doubt whether he ever had, or with all his applica- * See Reason and Religion, &o. Part II. Contemp. II. § 32, p 207 t Ibid. 4 33 p. 208, 209. t Ibid. S 34, p. 210. t Ibid. § 36, p. 211—213. 1i Ibid. \ 36, p. 214 REMABKS UPON SOME OP MK. NORRIS'S BOOKS. 47] tion ever would have, the ideas or truths present to the mind, that Mr. Newton had in writing his book. 30. This section* supposes we are better acquainted with God's understanding than our own. But this pretty argu- ment would perhaps look as smilingly thus : We are lUce God in our understandings; he sees what he sees by ideas in his own mind; therefore "we see what we see by ideas that are in our own minds. 31. These texts + do not prove that we shall "hereafter see all things in God." There will be objects in a future stale, and we shall have bodies and senses. 32. Is he, whilst we see through, the vdl of our mortal flesh here, intimately present to our minds? 33. To think of anytliing,J is to contemplate that precise idea. The idea of heing in general, is the idea of being ab- stracted from whatever may limit or determine it to any inferior species ; so that he that thinks always of being in general, thinks never of any particala/r species of being; unless he can think of it with and withou"; precision at the same time. But if he means that he thinks of being in general, whenever he thinks of this or that particular being, or sort of being; then it is certain he may always think of being in general, till he can find out a way of thinking ou nothing. 34. Being in general, is being || abstracted from wisdom, goodness, power, and any particular sort of duration; and I have as true an idea of being, when these are excluded out of it, as when extension, place, solidity, and mobility are excluded out of my idea. And therefore, if being in general, and God, be the same, I have a true idea of God when I exclude out of it power, goodness, wisdom, and eternity. 35. As if there was no difference IT between "man's being his own light," and " not seeing things in God." Man may be enlightened by God, though it be not by " seeing all things in God." The finishing of these hasty thoughts must be deferred to another season. Oates, 1693. JOHN LOCKE. * SeeEeason and Eeligion, &o. Part 11. Contemp. II. { 37, n 215, t Ibid. § 38, p. 216, 217. t Ibid. § 39, p. 217, 213. II Ibid. § 40, p. 219. 11 Ibid, j i3, p. 223. ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. [I AM not acquainted with a better compendium of natural philosophy thaa this. The science, no doubt, has received very great improvements since the time of Locke, but his exposition of it is still sufficiently exact for all practical purposes. The explanations of terms are brief, correct, and intelligible ; and the accounts of the grander phenomena of the universe, though designed only as incentives to inquiry, are such as. to open up very magnificent prospects before the mind. As it would be prepos- terous to render that long by annotation which the author expressly made short and simple, that it might be the more easily comprehended and the substance of it lodged firmly in the memoiy, I shall trouble the reader with very few notes. — Ed.] CHAPTER I. O? MATTER AND MOTION. Matter is an extended solid substance ; •which being com- prehended under distinct surfaces, makes so many particular distinct bodies. Motion is so well known by the sight and touch, that to use words to give a clearer idea of it would be in vain. Matter, or body, is indifferent to motion or rest. There is as much force required to put a body, which is in notion, at rest ; as there is to set a body, which is at rest, into motion. No parcel of matter can give itself either motion or rest, and therefore a body at rest will remain so eternally, ex- cept some external cause puts it in motion; and a body in motion will move eternally, unless some external cause stops it. A body in motion will always move on in a straight line, unless it be turned out of it by some external cause, because a body can no more alter the determination of its motion than it can begin, alter, or stop, its motion itself. The swiftness of motion is measured by distance of place and length of time wherein it is performed. For instance if A and B, bodies of equal or different l)igness, move each ELEME>fTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOOHY. 473 of them an inch in the same time, their motions are equally Bwift; but if A. moves two inches in the time whilst B is moving one inch, the motion of A is twice as swift as that ofB. The quantity of motion is measured by the swiftness ol the motion,* and the quantity of the matter moved, taken together. For instance, if A, a body equal to B, moves as switt as B, then it hath an equal quantity of motion. If A hath twice as much matter as B, and moves equally as swift, it hath double the quantity of motion, and so in proportion. It appears, as far as human observation reaches, to be a settled law of nature, that all bodies have a tendency, attrac- tion, or gravitation towards one another. The same force, applied to two different bodies, produces always the same quantity of motion in each of them. For instance, let a boat which with its lading is one ton, be tied at a distance to another vessel, which with its lading is twenty-six tons; if the rope that ties them together be pulled, either in the less or bigger of these vessels, the less of the two, in their approach one to another, will move twenty-six feet, while the other moves but one foot. Wherefore the quantity of matter in the earth being twenty-six times more than in the moon, the motion in the moon towai'ds the earth, by the common force of attraction, by which they are impelled towards one another, will be twenty six times as fast as in the eaith; that is, the moon will move twenty-six miles towards the earth, for every mile the earth moves towards the moon. Hence it is, that, in this natural tendency of bodies to- wards one another, that in the lesser is considered as gravita- tion, and that in the bigger as attraction,t because the motion * Whether this be consistent with the received theory of motion is more than I can say, but it appears to me to be a fallacy ; for motion having I'eference to the space traversed, and the time in which the transit is performed, there is as much motion in an ounce ball which traverses tive hundred yards in a, given number of seconds as in a pound ball which traverses the same distance in the same time, though the motive Dower which set the matter in motion must be evidently gi-eater than that which imparted motio.i to the former. Locke, therefore, appears here to confound motion with the motive power; that is, if I apprehend bis meaning exactly. — Hd f Besides the works of Sir Isaac Newton and the more moden; j hi- 474 EUSMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. of the lesser body (by reason of its much greater svrlftness) is alone taken notice of This attraction is the strongest the nearer the attracting bodies are to each other; and, in different distances of the same bodies, is reciprocally in the duplicate proportion of those distances. For instance, if two bodies, at a given distance, attract each other with a certain force, at ha¥ the distance they will attract each other with four times that force; at one third of the distance, with nine times that force; and BO on. Two bodies at a distance will put one another into motion by the force of attraction; which is inexplicable by us, though made evident to us by experience, and so to be taken as a principle in natural philosophy. Supposing then the earth the sole body in the universe, and at rest ; if God should create the moon, at the same dis- tance that it is now from the earth, the earth and the moon would presently begin to move one towards another in a straight line by this motion of attraction or gravitation. If a body, that by the attraction of another would move in a straight line towards it, receives a new motion any ways oblique to the first, it will no longer move in a straight line, according to either of those directions, but in a curve that will partake of both. And this curve will differ, according to the nature and quantity of the forces that concurred to produce it ; as, for instance, in many cases it will be such a curve as ends where it began, or recurs into itself: ' that is, makes up a circle, or an ellipsis * or oval very little differ- ing from a circle. loaophers, to which the reader will refer on this subject, it may be worth while to examine the previous speculation of Hobbes, in which the same theory is developed, though with less method and completeness. (Ele- ments of Philosophy, Part IV. o. xxx. § 2. See also Lord Bacon, Sylva Sylvarum, 703-4.)— Ed. * Kepler seems to have been the first who observed that the planets may move in ellipses; but it was reserved for Sir Isaac Newton to demonstrate the truth of this observation. The reader will find this de- monstration in Lord King's Life of Locke, vol. i. p. 389, et seq. , ' ' where, " in the opinion of his Lordship, "the lemma.s which are prefixed are expressed in a more «xpl»natory form than those of the Principia usuall> aia"— Ed. ELEMENTS OF NAT0RAI, PHILOSOPHY. 475 CHAPTER II. OF THE TJNIVEESK To any one, who looks about him in the world, there ard obvious several distinct masses of matter, separate from one another ; some whereof have discernible motions. These are the sun, the fixed stars, the comets and the planets, amongst which this earth, which we inhabit, ia one. AU these are visible to our naked eyes. Besides these, telescopes have discovered several fixed stars, invisible to the naked eye; and several other bodies moving about some of the planets ; all which were invisible and un- known, before the use of perspective glasses were found. The vast distances between these great bodies are called intermundane spaces; in which though there may be some fluid matter, yet it is so thin and subtile, and there is so little of that in respect of the great masses that move in those spaces, that it is as much as nothing. These masses of matter are either luminous, or opaque or dark. Luminous bodies, are such as give light of themselves i and such are the sun and the fixed stars. Dark or opaque bodies are such as emit no light of them- selves, though they are capable of reflecting of it, when it is cast upon them from other bodies; and such are the planets. There are some opaque bodies, as for instance the comets, which, besides the light that they may have from the sun, seem to shine with a light that is nothing else but an recension, which they receive from the sun, in their near approaches to it, in their respective revolutions. The fixed stars are called fixed, because they always keep the same distance one from anothei'. The sun, at the same distance from us that the fixed stars are, woiJd have the appearance of one of the fixed stars. CHAPTER III. OF CUE SOLAB SYSTEM. OuB solar system consists of the sun, and the pl&uets aud comets moving about it. 476 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL IHILOSOPHY. The planets are bodies, which appear to us like starH; not that they are luminous bodies, that is, ha.ve light in them- selves; but they shine by reflecting the light of the sun. ^ They are called planets from a Greek word, which signifies wandering; because they change their places, and do not always keep the same distance with one another, nor with the fixed stars, as the fixed stars do. The planets are either primary, or secondary. There are six primary planets,* viz., Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. All these move round the sun, which is, as it were, the centre of their motions. The secondary planets move round about other planets. Besides the moon, which moves about the earth, four moons move about Jupiter, and five about Saturn,t which are called their satellites. The middle distances of the primary planets from the sun are as follows: — Mercury "Venus The Earth Mars Jupiter Saturn Is distant from the sun's cen- tre, about 32,000,000] „. . . ., 59 000 000 Statute miles, siooooook^-^V^fo , 4943 French feet. 123,000,000 424,000,000 777,000,000 The orbits of the planets, and their respective distances fiom the sun and from one another, together with the orbit of a oomet, may be seen in the figure of the solar system hereunto annexed. J The periodical times of each planet's revolution about the sun are as follows : — * The number now discovered amounts to twenty-three. Of these, twelve have been discovered since the year 1845, eleven of them ro- tating between the orbits of Mars and Jupiter ; the remaining one is the planet Neptune, exterior to all the rest, and whose discovery is one of the greatest intellectual triumphs of the present age. — Ed. t Saturn has been foimd by modern astronomers to possess eight inoons, besides his luminous belts ; and Urarius certainly has foui ,moon8, if not more. — En. J The engraving alluded to, being now commonly found in all fie- inaiitary treatises on the subject, has been omitted.— -Ed. ELEMKN'TS OF NATUKAL PUILOsOPHY. 477 Alercury Venus The Earth Mars Jupiter Saturn Revolves about the Sun, in the space of <■ 88 ■225 3G5 5 49 1 322 11 319 ■20 138 The planets move round abovit the sun from west to east !n the zodiac, or, to speak plainer, ai-e always found amongst some of the stars of those constellations, which make the twelve signs of the zodiac. The motion of the planets about the sun is not perfectly circular, but i-ather elliptical. The reason of their motions in curve lines is the attraction of the sun, or their gravitations towards the sun, (call it which you please,) and an oblique or sidelong impulse or motion. These two motions or tendencies, the one always endea- vouriag to carry tiiem in a straight line from the circle they move in, and the other endeavouring to draw them in a straight line to the sun, makes that curve line they re- volve in. The motion of the comets about the sun is in a very long slender oval; whereof one of the focuses is the centre of the sun, and the other very much beyond the sphere of Saturn. - The moon moves about the eai-th, as the earth doth about the sun; so that it hath the centre of its motion in the earth ; as the earth hath the centre of its revolution in the sun, about which it moves. The moon makes its synodical motion about the earth, in twenty-nine days, twelve hours, and abont forty-four minutes. It is full moon, when, the eai'th being between the sun and the moon, we see all the enlightened part of the moon ; new moon, when, the moon being between us and the sun, its enlightened part is turned from us; and half moon, when the moon being in the quadratures, as the astronomers call it, we see but half the enlightened part. An eclipse of the moon is, when the earth, being between the sun and the moon, hindera the light of the sun from falling upon, fvnd being reflected by the moon. If the light of the sun is kej)t off from the whole body of the moon, 478 EDEMENTS OF NATUKAl PHILOSOPHY. it is a total eclipse; if from a part oiily, it is a partial one. An ecHpae of the sun is, when the moon, being between the sun and the earth, hinders the light of the sun from coming to us. If the moon hides from us the whole body of the sun, it is a total eclipse; if not, a partial one. Our solar system is distant from the fixed stars 20,000,000,000 semi-diameters of the earth; or, as Mr, Huygens expresses this distance, in his Cosmotheoros : * the fixed stars are so remote from the earth, that, if a cannon- bullet should come from one of the fixed stars with as swift a motion as it hath when it is shot out of the mouth of a cannon, it would be 700,000 years in coming to the earth. This vast distance so much abates the attraction of those remote bodies, that its operation upon those of our system is not at all sensible, nor would draw away or hinder the return of any of our solar comets ; though some of them should go so far from the sun, as not to make the revolution about it in less than 1000 years. It is more suitable to the wisdom, power, and greatness of God, to think that the fixed stars are all of them suns, with systems of inhabitable planets moving about them, to whose inhabitants he displays the marks of his goodness, as well as to us ; rather than to imagine that those very remote bodies, 80 little useful to us, were made only for our sake. CHAPTER IV. OP THE EAKTH, CONSIDERED AS A PLANET. The earth, by its revolution about the stm in three hun^ ired and sixty-five days, five houi's, forty-nine minutes, akes that space of time we call a year. The line, which the centre of the earth describes in its annual revolution about the sun, is called ecliptic. The annual motion of the earth about the sun, is in the order of the signs of the zodiac ; that is, speaking vulgarly, from west to east. Besides this annua] revolution of the earth about the sun ' Christiani Hugenil KOSMOeEQPOS, aire de Terris Ccelostibua Barumque omatu conjectursE, &o., p. m. 137 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 479 in tie ecliptic, the eartli turns round upoa its own axis iu twenty-four hours. The turning of the earth upon its own axis every twenty- four hours, whilst it moves round the sun in a year, we may conceive by the running of a bowl on a bowling-green ; in which not only the centre of the bowl hath a progressive motion on the green ; but the bowl in its going forward from one part of the green to another, tm-ns round about its own axis. The turning of the earth upon its own axis, makes the difference of day and night; it being day in those parts of the earth which are turned towards the sun, and night in those parts which are in the shade, or turned from the sun. The annual revolution of the earth in the ecliptic is the cause of the different seasons, and of the several lengths of days and nights, in every part of the world, in the course of the year. The reason of it is the earth's going round its own axis in the ecliptic, but at the same time keeping every-where its axis equally inclined to the plane of the ecliptic, and parallel to itself. For the plane of the ecliptic inclining to the plane of the equator twenty-three degrees and a half, makes that the earth, moving round in the ecliptic, hath sometimes one of its poles, and sometimes the other, nearer the sun. If the diameter of the sun be to the diameter of the earth as forty-eight to one, as by some it is accounted, then the disk of the sun, speaking numero rotundo, is above 2000 times bigger than the disk of the earth ; and the globe of the sun above 100,000 times bigger than the globe of the earth. The distance of the earth's orbit from the sun is above 20,000 semi-diameters of the earth. If a cannon bullet should come from the sun with the same velocity it hath when it is shot out of the mouth of a canncui, it would be twenty-five years in coming to the earth. CHAPTER V. OV THE AIB AND ATMOSPHERK We have already considered the earth as a planet, or one of the great masses of matter moving about the sun ; we shall 480 ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHlLOSOrnY. now consider it as it is made up of its several pares, absti-act- edly from its diurnal and annual motions. The exterior part of this our habitable world is the air or atmosphere; a light, thin fluid, or springy body, that encom- passes the solid earth on all sides. ■ The height of the atmosphere, above the surface of the solid ■earth, is not certainly known ; but that it. doth reach but to a very small part of the distance betwixt the earth and the moon, may be concluded from the refraction of the rays coming from the sun, moon, and other luminous bodies. Though considering that the air we are in, being near 1000 times lighter than water, and that the higher it is, the less it is compressed by the superior incumbent air, and so con- sequently being a springy body the thinner it is; and con- sidering also that a pillar of air of any diameter is equal in weight to a pillar of quicksilver of the same diameter of between twenty-nine and thirty inches height ; we may infer that the top of the atmosphere is not very near the surface of the solid earth. It may be concluded, that the utmost extent of the atmo- sphere reaches upwards from the surface of the solid earth that we walk on, to a good distance above us; first, if we consider that a column of air of any given diameter is equi- ponderant to a column of quicksilver of between twenty-nine and thirty inches height. Now, quicksilver being near four- teen times heavier than water, if air was as heavy as water, the atmosphere would be about fourteen times higher than the column of quicksilver, i. e., about thirty-five feet. Secondly, if we consider that air is 1000 times lighter than water, then a pillar of air equal in weight to a pillar of quicksilver of thirty inches high will be 35,000 feet; whereby we come to know that the air or atmosphere is 35,000 feet, i. e., near seven miles high. Thirdly, if we consider that the air is a springy body, and that that which is nearest the earth is compressed by the weight of all the atmosphere that is above it, and rests per- pendicularly upon it, we shall find that the air here, near the surface of the earth, is much denser and thicker than it is in the upper parts. For example, if upon a fleece of wool you lay another, the under one will be a little compressed by the weight of that which lies upon it; aud so both of them by a KliEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 481 third, and so on; so that if 10,000 were piled one upon an- other, the under one would, by the weight of all the rest, bu very much compressed, and all the parts of it be broiight abundantly closer together than when there was no other upon it, and the next to that a little less compressed, the third' a little less than the second, and so on till it came to the uppermost, which would be in its full expansion, and not compressed at all. Just so it is in the air, the higher you go in it, the less it is compressed, and consequently the less lense it is ; and so the upper part being exceedingly thinner vhan the lower part, which we breathe in, (which is that that is 1000 times lighter than water,) the top of the atmosphere is probably much higher than the distance above assigned. That the air near the surface of the earth will mightily expand itself, when the pressure of the incumbent atmosphere is taken off, may be aovmdantly seen in the experiments made by Mr. Boyle in his pneumatic engine. In his " Physico- mechanical Experiments," concerning the air, he declares* it probable that the atmosphere may be several hundred miles high; which is easy to be admitted, when we consider what he proves in another part of the same treatise, viz., that the air here about the surface of the earth, when the pressure is taken from it, will dilate itself about one hundred and fifty- two times. The atmosphere is the scene of the meteors; and therein is collected the matter of rain, hail, snow, thunder, and lightning; and a gred,t many other things observable in the air. CHAPTER VI. OF METEORS IN GENEKAL. Besides the springy particles of pure air, the atmosphere is made up of several steams or minute particles of several sorts, rising from the earth and the waters, and floatiag in the air, which is a fluid body, and though much finer and thinner, may be considered in respect of its fluidity to be ' New Experiments Physico-mechanical, touching the Spring of the Air and its effects; (made for the most part in a new Pneumatical E igine ;) written by the Honourable Robert Boyle. Experiment xxxvi. p. 156. Oxford, lt)62 ito. VOL. n. 2 I 483 F.LEMEKTS ON NATUEAL PHILOSOPHY. like water, and so capable, like other liquors, of having hete- rogeneous particles floating in it. The most remarkable of them are: first, the particles of water raised into the atmosphere, chiefly by the heat of the Bun, out of the sea and other -waters, and the surface of the earth, from whence it falls in dew,* rain, hail, and snow. Out of the vapours rising from moisture, the clouds are principally made. Clouds do not consist wholly of watery parts; for, besides the aqueous vapours that are raised into the air, there are also sulphureous and saline particles that are raised up, and in the clouds mixed with the aqueous particles, the efiects whereof are sometimes very sensible; as particularly in light- ning and thunder, when the sulphureous and nitrous par- ticles firing, break out with that violence of light and noise, which is observable in thunder, and very much resembles gunpowder. That there are nitrous particles t raised into the air is evident from the nourishment which rain gives to vegetables more than any other water; and also by the collection of nitre or saltpetre in heaps of earth, out of which it has been extracted, if they be exposed to the air, so as to be kept from rain, not to mention other efibrts, wherein the nitrous spirit in the air shows itself Clouds are the greatest and most considerable of all the nieteor.s, as furnishing matter and plenty to the earth. They consist of very small drops of water, and are elevated a good distance above the surface of the earth; for a cloud is no- thing but a mist flying high in the aii-, as a mist is nothing but a cloud here below. How vapours are raised into the air in invisible steams by the heat of the sun out of the sea and moist parts of the earth, is easily understood, and there is a visible instance of it in ordinary distillations. But how these steams are col- lected into drops, which bring back the water again, is not so easy to determine. * See Dr. Well's Ti'eatise on the Production and Nature of Dew. — Ed. t The presence of nitre in the atmosphere is nowhere perhaps so pal- pable as in Egypt, where it occasions the sudden chilliness of the nights, and may be the cause of that corrosivenese of the air which had already l}ee:i remai'ked in the time of Herodotus. (Book ii, § 12.) — Ec. ELEMEWTS OP NATURAL PHILOSOPHV. 48i To those that will carefully observn, perhaps it will appeal piobable that it is by that which the chemists call precipi- tation, to which it answers in all its parts. The air may be looked on as a clear and pellucid menstruum, in which the insensible particles of dissolved matter float up and down, without being discerned or troubling the pelluci- dity of the air; when on a sudden, as if it were by a preoipi- iation, they gather into the very small but visible misty dro])S that make clouds. This may be obsei-ved sometimes in a very clear sky, when, there not appearing any cloud or anything opaque in the whole horizon, one may see on a sudden clouds gather, and all the hemisphere overcast ; which cannot be from the rising of new aqueous vapours at that time, but from the precipi- tation of the moisture, that in invisible particles floated in the air, into very small, but very visible drops, which by a like cause being united into greater drops, they become too heavy to be sustained in the air, and so faU down in rain. Hail* seems to be the drops of rain frozen in their falling. Snow is the small particles of water frozen before they unite into drops. The regular figures, which branch out in flakes of snow, seem to show that there are some particles of salt mixed with the water, which makes them unite in certain angles. The rainbow is reckoned one of the most remarkable meteors, though reaUy it be no meteor at all, but the re- flection of the sunbeams from the smallest drops of a cloud or mist, which are placed in a certain angle made by the concurrence of two lines, one drawn from the sun, and the other from the eye, to these little drops in the cloud, which reflect the sunbeams; so that two people, looking upon a rainbow at the same time, do not see exactly the same rain bow. CHAPTER VII. OF SPRINGS, RIVERS, ASD THE SEA. Part of the water that falls down from the clouds runs away upon the surface of the earth into channels, which con- * On the physical- causes of congelation see Hobbes' Elements of Natural Philosophy, Part IV. c. xxviii. § 9.— Ed. 2x2 484 ELEMENTS OF NATIJRAL PHILOSOPHY vey ifc to the sea; and part of it is imbibed in the spongy shell of the earth, from whence, sinking lower by degrees, it falls down into subterranean channels, and so underground passes into the sea; or else, meeting with beds of rock or clay, it is hindered from sinking lower, and so breaks out in springs,* which are most commonly in the sides or at the bottom of hilly ground. Springs make little rivulets; those united make brooks; and those coming together make rivers, which empty them- selves into the sea. The sea is a great collection of waters in the deep valleyfi of the earth. If the earth were all plain, and had not those deep hollows, the earth would be aU covered with water; because the water, being lighter than the earth, would be above the earth, as the air is above the water. The most remarkable thing in the sea is that motion of the water called tides.+ It is a rising and falling of the water of the sea. The cause of this is the attraction of the moon, whereby the part of the water in the great ocean which is nearest the moon, being most strongly attracted, is I'aised higher than the rest; and the part opposite to it on the contrary side, being least attracted, is also higher than the rest. And these two opposite rises of the surface of the water in the great ocean, following the motion of the moon from east to west, and striking against the large coasts of t'^e continents that lie in its way, from thence rebounds back again, and so makes floods and ebbs in narrow seas, and rivers remote from the great ocean. Herein we also see the reason of the times of the tides, and why they so constantly follow the course of the moon. • On the origin df springs and rivers see Hobbes' Elements of Philo- sophy, Pari; IV. c. xxviii. § 18. Connected with this subject, however, there are several difficulties which had not apparently presented tiiem^ selves to the mind of the great philosopher of Malmesbury. See in Spallanzani's Travels in the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, vol. iv. p. 136 ; and in M. M. Doloipieu's Voyage aux Isles de Lipari, p. 120, the account of a perennial spring in the Eolian Islands, the existence of which can scarcely be explained according to the principles laid down by Hobbes and Locke. — Ed. + On the subject of tides see the somewhat rare treatise of Isaac Vos- sius concerning the motion of the Seas and the Winds, c. viii. p. 96 and compare with his theory the notions of Hobbes, (Elements of Phi loaophy, Part IV. c. xxvi. f lO.'l — Ed. ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 485 CHAPTER YIIT, OF SEVEKAL SORTS OP EARTH, STONES, METALS, MINERALS, AND OTHER FOSSILS. This solid globe we live upon is called the earth, though it contains in it a great variety of bodies, several whereof are not properly earth ; which word, taken in a more limited sense, signifies such parts of this globe as are capable, being exposed to the air, to give rooting and nourishment to plants, so that they may stand and grow in it. With such earth as this, the greatest part of the surface of this globe is covered ; and it is, as it were, the storehouse from whence all the living creatures of our world have originally their provisions; for from thence all the plants have their sustenance, and some few animals, and from these all the other animals. Of earth, taken in this sense, there are several sorts, v. g., common mould, or garden earth, clay of several kinds, sandy soils. Besides these, there is medicinal earth; as that wluch is called terra lemnia, bolus armena, and divers others. After the several earths, we may consider the parts of the surface of this globe, which are barren; and such, for the most part, are sand, gravel, chalk, and rocks, which produce nothing, where they have no earth mixed among them. Barren sands are of divers kinds, and consist of several little irregular stones without any earth; and of such there are great deserts to be seen in several parts of the world. Besides these, which are most remarkable on the surface of the earth, there are found, deeper in this globe, many other bodies, which, because we discover by digging into the bowels of the earth, are called by one common name, fossils , under which are comprehended metals, minerals, or half metals, stones of divers kinds, and sundry bodies that have the texture between earth and stone. To begin with those fossils which come nearest the earth : under this head, we may reckon the several sorts of ochre, chalk, that which they call black-lead, and other bodies of this kind, which are harder than earth, but have not tha sonsistency and hardness of perfect stone. N'ext to these may be considered stones of all sorts. 48(5 ELEMENTS OP NATlTRAIi PHILOSOPHY. wliereof there is almost an infinite variety. Some of. the most remarkable, either for beauty or use, are these : marble of all kinds, porphyry, granite, freestone, &c., flints, agates, cornelians, pebbles, under which kind come the precious stones, which are but pebbles of an excessive hardness, and when they are cut and polished they have an extraordinary lustre. The most noted and esteemed are diamonds, rubies, amethysts, emeralds, topazes, opals. Besides these, we must not omit those which, though of not so much beauty, yet are of greater use, viz., loadstones, whetstones of all kinds, limestones, calamine, or lapis cala- minaris, and abundance of others. Besides these, there are found in the earth several sorts of salts, as eating or common salt, vitriol, sal gemma, and others. The minerals, or semi-metals that are dug out of the bowels of the earth, are antimony, cinnabar, zink, &c., to which may be added brimstone. But the bodies of most use that are sought for out of the depths of the earth are the metals; which are distinguished from other bodies by their weight, fusibility, and malleable- ness ; of which there are several sorts : gold, silver, copper, tin, lead, and, the most valuable of them all, iron; to which one may join that anomalous body, quicksilver, or mer- cury. He that desires to be more particularly informed concern- ing the qualities and properties of these subterraneous bodies, may consult natural historians and chemists. What lies deeper towards the centre of the earth we know not, but a very little beneath the surface of this globe; and whatever we fetch from underground is only what is lodged in the shell of the earth. All stones, metals, and minerals, are real vegetables; that is, grow organically from proper seeds, as well as plants. CHAPTER IX. OP VEGETABLES, OR PLANTS. Next to the earth itself, we may consider those that are maintained on its surface; which, though they are fastened to it, yet are very distinct from it; and those are the whole BXEMENTS OP NATURAL PHILOSOPHf. 4S7 tribe of vegetables, or plants. These may be divided iutu three sorts: herbs, shrubs, and trees. Herbs are those plants whose stalks are soft, and have nothing woody in them : as grass, sowthistle, and hemlock. Shrubs and trees have all wood in them ; but with this dif- ference, that shrubs grow not to the height of trees, and usually spread into branches near the surface of the earth; whereas trees generally shoot up in one great stem or body, and then, at a good distance from the earth, spread into branches; thus gooseberries and currants are shrubs, oaks and cherries ai-e trees. In plants, the most considerable parts are these : the root, the stalk, the leaves, the flower, and the seed. There are very few of them that have not all these parts ; though some few there are that have no stalk, others that have no leaves, and others that have no flowers; but without seed or root I think there are none. In vegetables, there are two things chiefly to be considered ; their nourishment and propagation. Their nourishment is thvis : the small and tender fibres of the roots, being spread under ground, imbibe, from the moist earth, juice fit for their nourishment; this is conveyed by the ^talk up into the branches and leaves, through little, and, in some plants, imperceptible tubes, and from thence, by the bark, returns again to the root ; so that there is in vegetables, as well as in animals, a circulation of the vital liquor. By what impulse it is moved is somewhat hard to discover. It seems to be from the difierence of day and night, iind other changes in the heat of the air; for the heat dilating and the Gold contracting those little tubes, supposing there be valves in them, it is easy to be conceived how the circulation is performed in plants, where it is not required to be so rapid and quick as in animals. Nature has provided for the propagation of the species of plants several ways. The first and general is by seed. Be- sides this, some plants are raised from any part of the root set in the ground; others by new roots that are propagated from the old ones, as in tulips; others by offsets; and in others, the branches set in the ground will take root and grow; and last of all, grafting and inoculation, in certain sorts, are known ways of propagation. All these ways ol 488 ELEMENTS OF NATUBAL PHILOSOPHY. increasirjg plants make one good part of the skill of garden- ing j and from the books of gardeners may be best learned. CHAPTER X. OP ANIMALS. There is another sort of creatures belonging to this our earth, rather as inhabitants than parts of it. They differ in this from plants, that they are not fixed to any one place, but have a freedom of motion up and down; and besides, have sense to guide them in their motions. Man and brute divide all the animals of this our globe. Brutes may be considered as either aerial, terrestrial, aquatic, or amphibious. I call those aerial which have wings, wherewith they can support themselves in the air. Terres- trial are those whose only place of rest is upon the earth. Aquatic, are those whose constant abode is upon the water. Those are called amphibious, which live freely in the air upon the earth, and yet are observed to live long in the water, as if they were natural inhabitants of that element; though it be worth the examination to know, whether any of those creatures that live at their ease, and by choice, a good while or at any time upon the earth, can live a long time together perfectly under water. Aerial animals may be subdivided into birds and flies. Fishes, which are the chief part of aquatic animals, may be divided into shell-fishes, scaly fishes, and those that have neither apparent scales nor shells. And the terrestrial animals may be divided into quadru- peds or beasts, reptiles, which have many feet, and serpents, which have no feet at all. Insects, which in their several changes belong to several of the before-mentioned divisions, may be considered toge- ther as one great tribe of animals. They are called insects, from a separation in the middle of their bodies, whereby they are, as it were, cut into two parts, which are joined together by a small ligature; as we see in wasps, common flies, and the like. Besides all these there are some animals that are not per- fectly of these kinds, but placed, as it were, in the middle ELEMENTS OF NATURAL PHILOSOPHY. 48 1) betwixt two of them, bv something of both ; as bats, which have soniethirifr of beasts and birds in them. Some reptiles of the earth, and some of aquatics, want one or more of the sanaes, which are in perfecter animals; as worms, oysters, cockles, &o. Animals are nourished by food, taken in at the mouth, digested in the stomach, and thence by fit vessels distributed over the whole body, as is described in books of anatomy. The greatest part of animals have five senses : viz., seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, and feeling. These, and the way of nourishment of animals, we shall more particularly con- sider, because they are common to man with beasts. The way of nourishment of animals, particularly of man, is by food taken in at the mouth, which being chewed there, is broken and mixed with the saliva, and thereby prepared for an easier and better digestion in the stomach. When the stomach has performed its oflace upon the food, it protrudes it into the guts, by whose peristaltic motion it is gently conveyed along through the guts, and, as it passes, the chyle, which is the nutritive part, is separated from the excrementitious by the lacteal veins: and from thence con- veyed into the blood, with which it circulates till itself be concocted into blood. The blood, being by the vena ca^ a brought into the right ventricle of the heart,* by the con traction of that muscle, is driven through the arteria pul- monaris into the lungs; where the constantly inspired air mixing with it enlivens it ; and from thence being conveyed by the vena pulmonaris into the left ventricle of the heart, the contraction of the heart forces it out, and, by the arte- ries, distributes it into all parts of the body; fi-om whence it returns by the veins into the right ventricle of the heart, to take the same course again. This is called the circulation of the blood, by which life and heat are communicated to every part of the body. In the circulation of the blood, a good part of it goes up into the head; and by the brains are separated from it, or made out of it, the animal spirits; which, by the nerves, impart sense and motion to all parts of the body. The instruments of motion ar3 the aiuscles ; the fibres • Vid. Bliimenbaoh's CoiiiFarative Anatomy, c. xii. On the Hnart »i.d Blood-vessels in Mammalia. B'lds, &o. Physiology, § 7, p. 81.— Ea 490 ELEMENTS OP NATURAL PHILOSOPHY whereof, contracting themselves, move the several parts oi the body. This contraction of the muscles is, in some of them, by the direction of the mind, and in some of them, without it ; which is the difference between voluntary and involuntary motions in the body. CHAPTER XI. OF THE FIVE SENSES. Of Seeing. The organ of seeing is the eye;* consisting of variety of parts wonderfully contrived for the admitting and refracting the rays of light, so that those that come from the same point of the object, and fall upon different parts of the pupil, are brought to meet again at the bottom of the eye, whereby the whole object is painted on the retina that is spread there. That which immediately affects the sight and produces in us that sensation which we call seeing, is light. Light t maybe considered either, first, as it radiates from luminous bodies directly to our eyes ; and thus we see lumi- nous bodies themselves, as the sun, or a flame, i contain an almost complete development of the science. The few foreign works which ought perhaps to be added, are Aristotle's Politics, Macchiavelli's Prince and Discourses on Livy, and Montesquieu's Esprit des Loix. — Ed ] Reading is for the improvement of the understanding. Tlie improvement of the understanding is for two ends : first, for our own increase of knowledge; secondly, to enable us to deliver and make out that knowledge to others. The latter of these, if it be not the chief end of study in a gentleman, yet it is at least equal to the other, since the voi. II. ^ f- 49S gOME THOUGHTS CONCERNING greatest part of Ms business and usefulness in the world .'ft by the influence of what he says or writes to others. The extent of our knowledge cannot exceed the extent of our ideas ; therefore, he who would be universally know- ing, nmst acquaint himself with the objects of all sciences. But this is not necessary to a gentleman, whose proper calling is the service of his country, and so is most properly concerned in moral and political knowledge; and thus the studies which more immediately belong to his calling are those which treat of virtues and vices, of civil society, and the arts of government, and will take in also law and history. It is enough for a gentleman to be furnished with the ideas belonging to his calling, which he will find in the books that treat of the matters above mentioned. But the next step towards the improvement of his under- standing, must be, to observe the connexion of these ideas in the propositions which those books hold forth and pretend to teach as truths; which, till a man can judge whether they be truths or no, his understanding is but little improved; and he doth but think and talk after the books that he hath read, without having any knowledge thereby. And thus men of much reading are greatly learned but may be little knowing. The third and last step, therefore, in improving the un- derstanding, is to find out upon what foundation any pro- position advanced bottoms; and to observe the connexion of the intermediate ideas by which it is joined to that founda- tion upon which it is erected, or that principle from which it is derived. This, in short, is right reasoning; and by this way alone true knowledge is to be got by reading and study- ing. When a man, by use, hath got this faculty of observiug and judging of the reasoning and coherence of what he reads, and how it proves what it pretends to teach; he is then, and not till then, in the right way of improving his under- standing and enlarging his knowledge by reading. But that, as I have said, being not all that a gentleman should aim at in reading, he should further take care to im prove himself in the art also of speaking, th<),t so he may be sble to make the best use of what he knows. READING AND STUDY. 499 The art of speaking -well consists chiefly in two thingrs viz., perspicuity and right reasoning. Perspicuitj' consists in the using of proper terms for thest book of that kind. As to the other part of politics, which concerns the art of government, that, I think, is best to be learned by experience and history, especially that of a man's own country. And therefore I think an English gentleman should be well versed in the history of England, taking his rise as far back as there are any records of it; joining with it the laws that wore made in the several ages, as he goes along in his history; that he mav observe from thence the several turns of state, and how they have been produced. In Mr. Tyrrel's His- tory of England, he will find all along those several authors which have treated of our affairs, and which he may have recourse to, concerning any point which either his cui-iosity or judgment shall lead him to inquire into. * These Wo treatises are written by Mr. Locke himself. — Ed. r " Civil I'olity. A Treatise concerning the Nahire of GovommeDt," ic LoLilon, 1703, in 8vo. AVritten by Peter Paxton, M.D. —Ed READING AND STUDY. 501 With the history, he may also do well to read tlie ancient lawyers, such as Bracton, " Fleta," Henningham, " Mirror of Justice," my Lord Coke's " Second Institutes," and tlie "Modus, tenendi Parliamentum;" and others of that kind which he may find quoted in the late controversies between Mr. Petit, Mr. Tyrrel, Mr. Atwood, &c., with Dr. Brady; as also, I suppose, in Sadlier's Treatise of " Eights of the Kingdom, and Customs of our Ancestors," whereof the first edition is the best; wherein he will find the ancient con- stitution of the government of England. There are two volumes of " State Tracts," printed since the revolution, in which there are many things relating to the government of England. As for general history, Sir "Walter RaJeigh and Dr. Howell are books to be had. He who hath a mind to launch further into that ocean, may consult Whear's " Methodus Lcgoudi His- torias," of the last edition ; which will direct him to the authors he is to read and the method wherein he is to read them. To the reading of history, chronology and geography are absolutely necessary. In geography, we have two general ones in English, Heylin and Moll; which is the best of them I know not, having not been much conversant in either of them. But the last I should think to be of most use, because of the new discoveries that are made every day tending to the perfection of that science; though I believe that the countries which Heylin mentions are better treated of by him, bating what new dis- coveries since his time have added. These two books contain geography in general ; but whether an English gentleman would think it worth his time to bestow much pains upon that; though without it he cannot well understand a Gazette; it is certain he cannot well be without Camden's " Britannia," which is much enlarged in the last English edition. A good collection of maps is also necessary. To geography, books of travels may be added. In that kind, the collections made by our countrymen Hackluyx and Purchas are very good. There is also a very good collection made by Thevenot, in folio, in French; and by Ramuzio, in Italian; whether translated into English or no 502 SOME THOUGHTS CONCEBNTNO I knovr not.. There are also several good books of ti-avell of Englishmen published, as Sandys, Howe, Brown, Gage, and Dampier. There are also several voyages in French, which are very good, as Pyrard,* Bergeron,t Sagard,J Bernier,§ E£. Figure, i. 285, s. 5, 6 Finite, and infinite, modes of quan- tity, i. 3S0, s. ] All positive ideas of quantity- finite, 335, s. 8 Fire, nations ignorant of the use of, i. 30 Forms, substantial, distinguish not species, ii. 47, s. 10 Free, how far a man is so, i. 372, S.21 A man not free to will, or not to will, 373, s. 22-24 Freedom belongs only to agents, i. 371, s. 19 Wherein it consists, 376, s. 27 Free will, an improper term, i. 390 Liberty belongs not to the will, 368, =. 14. . Wherein consists that which is called free will, 373, =. 24 ; 389, a. 47 Geiiera and species, abstract ideas are the essences of, ii. 15 ; made in order to naming, 66 General assent the great argu- ment for innate ideas, i. 135 ; insufficient, 135 Ideas, how made, i. 274, s. 9 Knowledge, what, ii. 169, o. 31 Propositions cannot be Jinown to be true, without knowing the essenceof the species, 189, s. 4 Words, how made, 7, s. 6-8 Belong only to signs, 14, s. 11 General and universal are creatures of the understanding, ii. 14 Generation, i. 454, b. 2 Gentlemen should not be ignorant, ii. 325, 3. 6 Genus is but a partial conception of what is in the species, ii. 62 s. 32 Genus andspeoies, what, ii. 13,s.l0 Are but Latin names for sorts, 35, s. 9 [63, s. 33 Adjusted to the end of speech, Are made in order to general names, 66, b. 39 God immovable, because iaifinitei 1. 437, s. 21 Fills immensity as well as eter nity, 318, ». 3 His duration not lilie that of the creatures, 324, s. 12 An idea of God, not innate, 183, s. 8 The existence of a God evident, and obvious to reason, 187, s. 9 The notion of a God once got, is the likeliest to spread and be continued, 187, s. 9, 10 Idea of God late and iinperfect, 192, 0.13 Contrary, 193—196, s. 15, 16 Inconsistent, 193, s. 16 The best notions of God, got by thought and application, 193, s. 15 Notions of God frequently not ■worthy of him, 195, s. 16 The being of a God certain, s. 16, 195; proved, ii. 229, s. 1 As evident, as that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right ones, i. 200, s. 22 Tea, as that two opposite angles are equal, 196, s. 16 More certain than any other existence without us, ii. 231, s. 6 The idea of God not the only proof of his existence, 231, s. 7 The being of a God the founda- tion of morality and divinity, 231, s. 7 How we make our idea of God, i. 444, 445, s. 33, 34 Gold is fixed ; the various signifi- cations of this proposition, ii. 73, s. 50 Water strained through it, i. 231, s. 4 Good and evil, what, i. 351, a. 2 ; 384, s. 42 The greater good deteimines'nol the will, 379, s. 35; 380, s. 38 ; 386, s. 44 INDEX. 511 Good and evil — Why, 38G, a. 44 ; 389, s. 46 ; 398—405, s 59, 60, 64, 65-68 IVofold, 400, s. 61 Works on the wUi only by de- sire, 389, s. 46 Desire of good, how to be maed, 389, 0. 46, 47 Government of our passions the right improvement of liberty, i. 393 Habit, i. 419, s. 10 Habitual actions pass often with- out our notice, L 258, s. 10 Hair, how it appears in a micro- scope, i. 430, s. 11 Happiness, what, i. 384, a. 42 What happiness men pursue, L 384, 8. 43 How we come to rest in narrow happiness, 399, s. 59, 60 Haixlneas, what, i. 231, s. 4 Hatred, i. 353, s. 5 ; 357, a. 14 Heat and cold, how the sensation of them both is produced, by the same water, at the same time, i. 249, s. 21 Herbei't, Lord, innate principles of, examined, L 170 History, what history of most au- thority, ii. 278, s. 11 Hobbes's definition of conscience, i. 161 ; liis argument for the eadstence of a Deity, ii. 233 Hope, i. 355, s. 9 Hume, his criticism on Locke's theory of the origin of ideas, i. 8, 146 Hypotheses, their use, ii. 261, a. 13 Are to be built on matter of fact, 211, a. 10 Ice and water whether distinct species, ii. 60, B. 13 dea, what, i. 255, a. 8 Ideas, their original in children, l179, 3.2; 192, s. 13 None innate, 196, s. 17 Recause not remembered, 197, 8.20 Ideas — Axe svnat the mind is employed about in thinking, 205, a. 1 All from sensation or reflection, 205, s. 2, (Sec. How this is to be understood, 207 Their way of getting, observable in children, i. 208, ». 6 Why some have more, some fewer, ideas, 209, s. 7 Of reflection got late, and in some very negligently, 210, s. 8 Their beginning and increase in children, 221—223, a. 21-24 Their original in aensation and reflection, 222, s. 24 Of one sense, 226, ». 1 Want names, 227, o. 2 Of more than one sense, 233 Of reflection, 234, e. 1 Of sensation and reflection, 234, s. 1 As in the mind, and in things, must be distinguished, 239, s. 7 Not always resemblances, 246, s. 15, &c. Which are first, is not material to know, 255, s. 7 Of sensation often altered by the judgment, 255, s. 8 Principally those of sight, 257, B. 9 Of reflection, 277, ». 14 Simple ideas men agree in, 298, s. 28 Moving in a regular train in our minds, 304, s. 9 Such as have degrees, want names, 346, b. 6 Why some have names, and othex-s not, 346, s. 7 Original, 414, s. 73 All complex ideas resolvable into simple, 419, a. 9 What aimple ideas have been most modified, 420, a. 10 Our complex idea of God, and other apirits, common in every thing, but infinity, 446, s, 36 Cleir and obscure, 499, s, 2 ;i3 INDKSC deas — Distinct and confused, 499, a. i May De cleai in one part, and ob- scure in another, 504, s. ] 3 Ueal and fantastical, 508, s. 1 Simple are all real, 508, s. 2 And adequate, 611, s. 2 What ideas of mixed modes are fantastical, 509, s. 4 What ideas of substances are fantastical, 510, s. 5 Adequate andinadequati3,510,s. 1 Howsaidto be in things, 511, s. 2 Modes are all adequate ideas, 512, s. 3 Unless as referred to names, 513, 514, a. 4, 5 Of substances inadequate, 518, s. 11 1. As referred to real essen- ces, 614, s. 6; 516, s. 7 2. As referred to a collection of simple ideas, 516, s. 8 Simple ideas are perfect iKTvwa, 619, s. 12 Of substances are perfect tKTvjra, 619, s. 13 Of modes are perfect archetypes, 520, s. 14 True or false, 620, s. 1, &c. When false, 529, 530, s. 21-5 As bare appearances in the mind, neither true nor false, 521, s. 3 As referred to other men's ideas, or to real existence, or to real essences, may be true or false, 521, 3. 4, 6 Keason of such reference, 622, 623, s.6-8 Simple ideas referred to other men's ideas, least apt to be false, 623, s. 9 Complex ones, in this respect more apt to be false, espe- cially those of mixed modes, 523, s. 10 Simple ideas referred to exist- ence, are all true, 525, o. 14; 526, s. 16 fhouirh they should be different iji different men, 625, a. 15 Ideas — Complex ideas of modes are alJ true, 527, s. 17 Of substances when false, 529, 8. 21, &c. When right or wrong, 630, s. 28 That we are incapable of, ii. 160, s. 23 That we cannot attain, because of their remoteness, ii. 160, s. 24 Because of their minuteness,161, s. 25 Simple have a real conformity to things, 171, s. 4 And all others, but of sub- stances, 171, s. 5 Simple cannot be got by defini- tion of words, 25, a, 11 But only by experience, 28, s. 14 Of mixed modes, why most com- pounded, 28, s. 13 Specific, of mixed modes, how at first made ; instance in kin- neah and niouph, 69, s. 44 Of substances; instance in za- hab, 71, s. 46 ; 72, s. 47 Simple ideas and modes have all abstract, as well as concrete, names, 78, s. 2 Of substances, have scarce any abstract names, 78 Different in different men, 86, s. 13 Our ideas almost all relative, i. 361, s. 3 Particulars are Erst in the mind, ii. 83, s. 9 General are imperfect, 83, s. 9 How positive ideas may be froiu. privative causes, i. 241, s, 4 The use of this term not dan- gerous, 1. 242, s. 1, &c. It is litter than the word notion, i. 242, s. 6. Other words a^i liable to be abused as this, i. 242, s. 6. Yet it is con- demned, both as new and not new, 243, a. 1. The same witli notion, sense, mearking, &Ct, ii. 129, s. 1 INDEX. fil3 Identical propositions teach no- thing, ii. 219, s. 2 .Identity, not an innate idea, i. 180-182, s. 3-5 Of a plant, wherein it consists, 461, a. 4 Of animals, 462, s. 5 Of a man, 462, s. 6 ; 463, s. 8 Unity of substance does not al- ways make the same identity, 463, s. 7 Tersonal identity, 466, o. 9 Depends on the same conscious- ness, 467, s. 10 Continued existence makes iden- tity, 481, s. 29 And diversity, in ideas, the first perception of the mind, ii. 129, s. 4 Idiots and madmen, i. 276, a. 12, 13 Idolatry, origin of, i. 177 Incogitatire beings, ii. 236 Ignorance, our ignorance infinitely exceeds our knowledge, ii.158, B. 22 Causes of ignorance, 159, s. 23 1. For want of ideas, 159, s. 23 2. For want of a d^coverable connexion between the ideas we have, 164, ». 28 3. For want of tracing the ideas we have, 167, s 30 Illation, what, ii. 282, s. 2 Innnensity, i. 284, s. 4 How this idea is got, 331, s. 3 Immoralities of whole nations, i. 162, s. 9 ; 165, s. 11 Immortality, not annexed to any shape, ii. 178, s. 15 Impenetrability, i. 179, s. 1 Imposition of opinions unreason- able, ii. 273, s. 4 fmpessibile est idem ease et non esse, not the first thing known, i. 151, s. 25 Impossibility, not an innate idea, i, 180, s. 3 Impression on the mind, what, L 136,8.5 loAdequate ideas, i. 498, a. 1 Incompatibility, how far knowable, ii. 151, s. 15 Individuationis principvmnf is ex- istence, i. 460, s. 3 Infallible judge of controversies, i. 190, s. 12 Inference, what, ii. 266, 267, s. 2-4 Infinite, why the idea of infinite not applicable to other ideas as well as those of quantity, since they can be as often re- peated, i. 333, s. 6 The idea of infinity of space or number, and of space oi number infinite, must be dis- tinguished, 334, s. 7 Our :!dea of infinite, very ob- scure, 335, s. 8 Number furnishes us with the clearest ideas of infinite, 336, s. 9 The idea of infinite, a growing idea, 337, s. 12 Our idea of infinite, partly posi- tive, partly comparative, partly negative, 339, s. 15 Why some men think they have an idea of infinite duration, b\it not of infinite space, 342, s. 20 Why disputes about infinity are usually perplexed, 343, s. 21 Our idea of infinity has its ori- ginal in sensation and reflec- tion, 344, s. 22 We have no positive idea of infi- nite, 338, s. 13, 14; 340, s. 16 Infinity, why more commonly al- lowed to duration than to ex- pansion, i. 319, s. 4 How applied to God by us, 330, s. 1 How we get this idea, 331, s. 2, 3 The infinity of number,duration, and space, d^erent ways con- sidered, 325, 326, s. Ifr, 11 Innate truths must be the first known, i. 152, s. 26 Principles to no purpose, if men can be ignorant or doubtful ot them, 167, u. 13 2l 514 tKD£X. Innate- Principles of my L >rd Herbert examined, 170, o. 15, &c. Moral rules to no pm-pose, if ef- faceable, or alterable, 17 3, s.20 Propositions must be distin- guished from other by their clearness and usefulness, 203, s. 24 The doctrine of innate principles of ill consequence, 203, ». 24 Instant, what, i. 305, a. 10 And continual change, 306, o. 13-15 Intuitive knowledge, ii. 134, s. 1 Our highest certainty, 298, s. 14 Invention, wherein it consists, i. 267, s. 8 Iron, of what advantage to man- kind, ii. 260, B. 11 Joy, i. 354, s. 7 Judgment : wrong judgments, in reference to good and evil, i. 398, s. 68 Right judgment, ii. 273, s. 4 One cause of vrrong judgment, 272, s. 3 "Wherein it consists, 265-267 Judgment, day of, speculations on the, i. 477 Justice, Locke's narrow and im- perfect view of, ii. 154 Kinneah and niouph, ii. 70 Knowledge has a great connexion with words, ii. 109, b. 25 The author's definition of it ex- plained and defended, note. How it differs from faith, 268, s. 2, 3 ; note What, 129, s. 2 How much our knowledge de- pends on our senses, 124, s. 23 Actual, 131, s. 8 ' Habitual, 131, s. 8 Habitual, twofold, 132, s. 9 Intuitive, 134, s. 1 Intuitive, the clearest, 134, a. 1 Intuitive, irresistible, 134, s. 1 Demonscrativs, 13£, a 2 Knowledge — Of general truths, is all »tLei intuitive or demonstrative, 140, s. 14 Of particular existences, is sen- sitive, 140, s. 14 Clear ideas do not always produce clear knowledge, 142, s. 15 What kind of knowledge we have of nature, 322, s. 2 Its beginning and progress, L 277, s. 15-17; 142, s. 15, 16 Given us, in the faculties to at- tain it, 190, s. 12 Men's knowledge according to the employment of their facul- ties, 200, s. 22 To be got only by the application of our own thought to the con- templation of tlungs, 202, s. 23 Extent of human knowledge, 134 Our knowledge goes not beyond our ideas, 134, a. 1 Nor beyond the perception of their agreement or disagree- ment, 135, s. 2 Reaches not to all our ideas, 136, s. 3 Much less to the reality of things, 137, s. 6 Yet very improvable if right ways are taken, 137, s. 6 Of CO- existence very narrow, 148, 149, 3. 9-11 And therefore, of substances veiy narrow, 150, a. 14 ■Of other relations indetermina- ble, 153, ». 18 Of existence, 158, o. 21 Certain and universal, where to be had, 166, o. 29 111 use of words, a great hinder- ance of knowledge, 168, s. 30 Greneral, where to be got, 169, s. 31 Lies only in our thoughts, 198, s. 13 Reality of our knowledge, 169— 181 Of mathematical tnitha, hop real, 172, o. 6 IITDBX. 515 Enowledgia — Of morality, rea^ 172, b. 7 Of substances, how far real, 175, s. 12 What makes our knowledge real, 170, B. 3 Considering things, and not names, l£e way to knowledge, 176, s. 13 Of substance, wherein it ccm- sists, 175, s. 11 What required to any tolerable knowledge of substances, 199, s. 14 Self-evident, 201, s. 2 Of identity and diversity, as large as our ideas, 148, s. 8; ,202, s. 4 Wherein it consists, 202 Of co-existence, very scanty, 204, B. 5 Of relations of modes, not so scanty, s. 6, 204 Of real existence, none, 205, s. 7 Begins in paiticulars, 205, b. 9 Intuitive of om- own existence, 229, s. 3 Demonstrative of aGod, 228, s. 1 ' Improvement of knowledge, 252—263 Not improved by maxims, 252, ■ s. 1 Why so thought, 253, B. 2 Knowledge improved only by perfecting and comparing ideas, 256, s. 6; 262, a. 14 And finding their relations, 256, S.7 By intermediate ideas, 262, a. 14 In substances, how to be im- proved, 257, B. 9 Partly necessary, partly volun- tary, 263, 264, s. 1, 2 Why some, and so little, 264, s. 2 How increased, 275, a. 6 Language, why it uhanges, ii. ii, s. 1 Wherein it oonaiats, 1, o. l-£ Its use, S3, a. 7 Itn imperfcctioiu, 79. ■• 1 Language- Double use, 79, a. 1 The use of language destroyed by the aubtilty of disputing, 98, 3. 6; 98, a. 8 Ends of language, 108, a. 23 Its imperfections not easy to be cured, 114, s. 2; 114, s. 4-6 The cure of them necessary to philosophy, 114, s. 3 To use no word without a cleai and distinct idea annexed to it, is one remedy of the imperfec- tions of language, 117, s. 8, & Propriety in the use of words, another remedy, 118, s. 11 Law of nature generally allowed, i. 160, s. 6 There is, though not innate, 167, B. 13 Its enforcement, 485, a. 6 Learning — ^the ill state of learning in these latter ages, iL 79, &c. Of the schools, lies chiefly in the abuse of words, 83, &c. Such learning of ill consequence, 84, a. 10 Liberty, what, L 365, ». 8-12 ; 369, ». 15 Belongs not to the will, 368, s. 14 To be determined by the result of our own deliberation, is no restraint of liberty, 390—392, s. 48-50 Founded in a power of suspend- ing our particular desires, 389, s. 47 ; 392, a. 51, 52 Light, its absurd definitions, ii. 24, s. 10 In the mind, what, 319, a. 13 Excess of, destructive to the or- gans of vision, L 237 ; Sir L Newton's experiments, 237 Logic has introduced obscurity into languages, ii. 97, s. 6, 7 And hindered knowledge, 97,8. 7 Love, i. 352, s. 4 Lucian's burlesque history of Py- thagoras, i. 182 Madness, i. 276, a. 13. Oppofitior 21,2 516 I!n>EX. MaunesB — to reason deserves that name. 534, 3. 4 Magisterial, the most knowing are least magisterial, ii. 273, s. 4 Making, i. 454, a. 2 _ Malebranche, examination of his opinion of seeing all things in God, ii. 413, 459 Maloti-u, the abbot, notice of, ii. 57 Man not the product of blind chance, ii. 231, s. 6 The essence of man is placed in his shape, 179, s. 16 We know not his real essence, 41, 9. 3 ; 63, s. 22 ; 57, s. 27 The boundaries of the human spe- cies not determined, 67, s. 27 What makes the same individual man, i. 476, s. 21; 481, s. 29 The same map may be different persons, 475, s. 19 Mathematics, theii- methods, ii. 256, s. 7. Improvement, 262, s. 15 Matter, incomprehensible, both in its cohesion and divisibility, i. 437, s. 23 ; 442, 443, e. 30, 31 What, ii 87, s. 15 Whether it may think, is not to be known, 143, ti. 6 Cannot produce motion, or any thing else, 236, s. 10 And motion cannot produce thought, 236, s'. 10 Not eternal, 241, s. 18 Maxims, ii. 214—217, s. 12-15 Not alone self-evident, 202, o. 3 Are not the truths first known, 206, a. 9 Not the foundation of our know- ledge, 206, d. 10 Wherein their evidence consists, 206, s. 10 Their use, 208—215, n. 11, 12 _ Why the most general self-evi- dent propositions alone pass for maxims, 208, s. 11 Are commonly prooffi, only where there is no need of proofs, 216, B. 15 Maxims — Of little use, with clear tenn«i 218, ». 19 Of dangerous use, with doubtfj] terms, 214, s. 12; 219, s. 20 When first known, i. 138, &c., s. 9-13; 141, S.14; 143, s.l6 I How they gain assent, 143, E, I 21, 22 Made from particular observa- tions, 143, s. 21, 22 Not in the understanding before they are actually known, 148, s. 22 Neither their terms nor ideas innate, 149, s. 23 Least known to children and il- literate people, 162, ». 27 Memory, i. 262, a. 2 Attention, pleasure, and pain, settled ideas in the memory, 263, s. 3 And repetition, 264, s. i; 266, s. 6 Difference of, 264, s. 4, 5 In remembrance, the mind some- times active, sometimes pas- sive, 266, o. 7 Its necessity, 264, a. 5 ; 267, s. 8 Defects, 267, s. 8, 9 In brutes, 269, s. 10 Men must know and think for themselves, i. 202 Metaphysics, and school divinity, filled with uninatractive pro- positions, ii. 225, s. 9 Method used in mathematics, ii. 256, a. 7 Mind, the quickness of its actions, i. 268, s. 10 Steps by which it attains several truths, i. 142 Operations of the, one source of ideas, 207 Minutes, hours, days, not neces- sary to duration, i. 312, a. 23 Miracles, ii. 281, s. 13 Misery, what, i 384, s. 42 Misnaming disturbs not the cer. tainty of our knowledge, ii 174 Modes, mixed, i. ilB, s. 1 INDEX. 517 Miodes — Made by the mind, 415, s. 2 Sometimes got by the explication of tlieir names, 416, s. 3 Whence its unity, 417, s. 4 Occasion of mixed modes, 41 7, s. 5 Their ideas, bow got, 419, s. 9 Simple and complex, 281, s. 5 Simple modes, 282, s. 1 Of motion, 345, s. 2 Hole, popular error regai-ding the, ii. 159 Monsters, ii. 17, 179 Moral good and evil, what, ii. 485, 3.5 Three nileg whereby men judge of moral rectitude, 486, s. 7 Beings, how founded on simple ideas of sensation and reflec- tion, 493, 494, s. 14, 15 Moral rules not self-evident, i 158, s. 4 Variety of opinions concerning moral rules, 159, s. 5, 6 If innate, cannot with public allowance be transgressed, 166, 167, s. 11, 13 Moral truth, iL 187 Morality, capable of demonstration, , ii. 299, s. 16; 153, s.l8; 257, s. 8 The proper study of mankind, 259, s. 11 Of actions, in their conformity to a rule, i. 494, s. 15 Mistakes in moral notions, owing to names, 496, s. 16 Discourses in morality, if not clear, the fault of the speaker, ii. 121, s. 17 Hinderanees of demonstrative treating of morality : 1. Want of marks ; 2. Complexedness, 155,s.l9; 3.Interest,157,s.20 Change of names in morality, changes not the nature of things, 187, s. 9 And mechanism, hard to be re- conciled, i. 170, s. 14 Secured amidst men's wrong judgments, 407, s. 70 Motion, slow or very swift, why not perceived, i. 304, 305, s. 7-11 Voluntary, inexplicable, ii. 242, s. 19 Ita absurd definitions, 23, s. 8, 9 Mureti, his account of a person with an extraordinaiy memory, i. 265 Mutual charity and forbearance inculcated, ii. 273 Naming of idea.s, i. 274, s. 8 Names, moral, established by law, not to be varied from, ii. 174, s. 10 Of substances, standing for real essences, are not capable to convey certainty to the under- standing, 184, s. 5 For nominal essences will make some, though not many, cer- tain propositions, 185, s. 6 Why men substitute names for veal essences, which they know not, 104, ». 19 Two false suppositions, in such an use of names, 106, s. 21 A particular name to every par- ticular thing impossible, 9, s. 2 And useless, 9, s. 3 Proper names, where used, 5, 10, s. 4 Specific names are affixed to the nominal essence, 18, s. 16 Of simple ideas and substances, refer to things, 21, s. 2 What names stand for both real nominal essence, 22, s. 3 Of simple ideas not capable oi definitions, 22, s. 4 Why, 23, s. 7 Of least doubtful signification, 28, s. 15 Have few accents in liiica prce- dicamentali, 29, s. 16 Of complex ideas, may be de- fined, 26, B. 12 Of mixed modes stand for arbi- trary ideas, 30, s. 2, 3 ; 69, s. 4-( Tie together the parts of theij complex ideas, 36, a, 10 518 INDEX. Kamea — Stand a. ways for the real essence, 38, s. 14 Why got, usually, before the ideas are known, 38, s. 15 Of relations comprehended under those of mixed modes, 39, s. 16 General names- of substances stand for sorts, 40, s. 1 Necessary to species, 66, s. 39 Proper names belong only to substances, 68, a. 42 Of modes in their first applica- tion, 69, ». 44, 45 Of substances in their first appli- cation, 71, s. 46, 47 Specific names stand for different things in different men, 72, s. 48 Are put in the place of the thing supposed to have the real es- sence of the species, 73, s. 49 Of mixed modes, doubtful often, 81, s. 6 Because they want standards in nature, 81, s. 7 Of substances, doubtful, 85 — 87, s. 11, 14 In their philosophical use, hard to have settled significations, 87, s. 15 Instance, liquor, 88, b. 16; gold, 89, s. 17 Of simple ideas, why least doubt- ful, 90, s. 18 ' Least compounded ideas have the least dubious names, 91, s. 19 Natural philosophy, not capable of science, ii. 162, s. 26; 258, s. 10 Yet very useful, 260, s. 12 How to be improved, i. 363, s. 12 What has hindered its improve- ment, i. 363, s. 12 N"avarrete, uncharitable judgment of, ii. 323 ISTecessity, i. 368, s. 13 Negative terms, ii. 2, s. 4 Names signify the absence of positive ideas, i. 242, b. 5 Nervous fluid, hypothesis of the, i. 241; iL 89 ' Newton's, Sir Isaac, dangerous ex- periment on his eyes, L 237 NoiTis, his assertion of Male- bi'anche's opinion, remarks on, ii. 459 Nothiog ; that nothing cannot pro- duce any thing, is demonstra- tion, ii. 230, s. 3 Notions, i. 415, s. 2 Number, i. 325 Modes of, the most distinct ideas, 416, s. 3 Demonstrations in numbers, the most determinate, 417, s. 4 The general measure, 330, s. 8 Affords the clearest idea of infi- nity, 336, B. 9 Numeration, what, 327, s. 5 Names necessary to it, 327, s, 5,6 And order, 329, s. 7 Why not early in children, and in some never, 329, s, 7 Obscurity, unavoidable in ancient authors, ii. 84, s. 10 The cause of it in our ideas, i. 499, s. 3 Obstinate, they are most, who have least examined, ii. 272, s. 3 Opal, description of the, ii. 151 Opinion, what, ii. 269, s. 3 How opinions grow up to prin- ciples, i. 176, s. 22-26 Of others, a wrong ground oi assent, ii. 270, s. 6; 335, s. 17 Organs ; our organs suited to our state, i. 430, s. 12, 13 Ostracism, the Grecian, explained, i. 418 Pain, present, works presently, ' i. 402, 3. 64 Its use, 236, s. 4 Paley, his false definition of virtue, i. 159 Parrot mentioned by Sir W. T., i. 464, s. 8 Holds a rational discourse, 465 Particles join parts, or whole sen tences, together, ii. 74, 8. 1 BTDEX. 519 Pal'ticles — In thorn lies the teauty of well speaking, ii. 74, s. 2 How their use is to be known, 76, s. 6 They express some action or pos- ture of the mind, 75, a. 4 ; i. 268 Pascal, his great memory, i. 26, s, 9 Passion, i. 421, s. 11 Passions, how they lead us into error, ii. 279, s. 11 Turn on pleasure and pain, i. 352, s. 3 Are seldom single, 382, s. 39 Perception threefold, i. 363, s. 5 In peroeption, the mind for the most part passive, 253, s. 1 Is an impression made on the mind, 253, s. 3, 4 In the womb, 254, s. 5 Difference between it, and innate ideas, 2fi4, s. 6 T*utB the difference between the animal and vegetable king- dom, 258, s. 11 The several degrees of it, show the wisdom and goodness of the MaJter, 259, s. 12 Belongs to all animals, 259, s. 12-14 The first inlet of knowledge, 261, s. 15 Person, what, i. 466, s. 9 A forensic term, 479, a. 26 The same consciousness alone makes the same person, 469, s. 13 ; 477, s. 23 The same soul without the same consciousness, makes not the same person, 470, u. 14, &c. Keward and punishment follow personal identity, 474, s. 18 Phantastical ideas, i. 508, s. 1 Philosophical Law, the measure of virtue and vice, i- 487 Pictures, use of, in giving clear ideas of objects, ii. 127 Place, i. 286, s. 7, 8 Use of place, 287, s. 9 Nothing but a lelative position, 266, B. 10 Place- Sometimes taken for the space body fills, 288, s. 10 Twofold, 320, s. 6, 7 Pleasure and pain, i. 351, s.l ; 357, s. 15, 16 Join themselves to most of ouv ideas, 235, s 2 Pleasure, why joined to several ac- tions, i. 235, 3. 3 Positive ideas from privative causes, i. 240, 242 Power, how we come by its idea, i. 359, s. 1 Active and passive, 360, s. 2 No passive power in God, no ac- tive in matter ; both active and passive in spirits, 360, s. 2 Our idea of active power clearest from reflection, 362, s. 4 Powers operate not on powers, 370, s. 18 Make a great part of the ideas of substances, 427, s. 7 ■Why, 428, a. 8 An idea of sensation and reflec- tion, 239, s. 8 Practical principles not innate, i. 154, s.l Not universally assented to, 156, s. 2 Are for operation, 156, s. 3 Not agreed, 169, s. 14 Different, 174, s. 21 Principium individuationis, i. 460 Principles, not to be received with- out strict examination, ii. 254, s. 4; 327, s.8 The ill consequences of wrong principles, 327, s. 9, 10 None innate, i. 134, a. 1 None universally assented to, 135, s. 2-4 How ordinarily got, 175, s. 22,&c. Are to be examined, 177, s. 26, 27 Not innate, if the ideas they are made up of, are not innate, 179, s. 1 Privative terms, ii. 2, s. 4 Probability, what, ii. 267, a. 1, tl The grounds of, 26S, D, 4 520 JSDJSX. Probability — In matter of fact, 270, s. 6 How we are to judge in probabi- lities, 269, a. 5 Difficulties in probabilities, 277, s. 9 Grounds of probability in specu- lation, 279, 3. 12 Wrong measures of probability, 326, s. 7 How evaded by prejudiced minds, 332, s. 13, 14 Proofs, ii. 136, s. 3 Properties of specific essences, not known, ii. 52, a. 19 Of things very numerous, i. 518, s. 10 ; 529, B. 24 Propositions, identical, teach no- thing, ii. 244, s. 2 Generical, teach nothing, 222, s. 4; 227, s. 13 Wherein a part of the definition is predicated of the subject, teach nothing, 223, s. 5, 6 But the signification of the word, 224, 3. 7 Concerning substances, generally either trifling or uncertain, 225, 3. 9 Merely verbal, how to be known, 227, s. 12 Abstract terms, predicated one of another, produce merely verbal propositions, 227, 3. 12 Or part of a complex idea, pre- dicated of the whole, 222, s. 4 ; 227, s. 13 More propositions, merely ver- bal, thanis3uspected,227, s. 13 Universal propositions concern not existence, 228, a. 1 What propositions concern ex- istence, 228 Certain propositions, concerning existence, are particular ; con- cerning abstract ideas, may be general, 238, s. 13 Mental, 18S, s. 3; 184, s. 5 Verbal, 183, B. 3 ; 184, a. 5 Mental, haid to be treated, 183, B. 3, 4 Punishment, what, i. 485, a. 5 And reward, follow conBciou» ness, 474, s. 18 ; 26, s. 489 An unconscious drunkard, why punished, 476, s. 22 Pythagoras, his doctrine of the transmigration of souls, i. 180 ; Lucian's burlesque, 182 Qualities: secondary qualities, their connexion, or inconsistence, unknown, ii. 149, s. 11 Of substances, scarce knowable, but by experience, 150 — 153 3. 14, 16, Of spiritual substances less than of corporeal, 153, 3. 17 Secondary, have no conceivable connexion with the primary, that produce them, 149, 150, B. 12, 13; 164, S.28 Of substances, depend on remote causes, 175, s. 11 Not to be known by descriptions, 124, 3. 21 Secondary, how far capable of demonstration, 139, s. 11-13 What, i. 244, a. 13 How said to bewn things,508, 3.2 Secondary, would be other, if we could discover theminuteparts of bodies, 429, s. 11 Primary, 243, s. 9 How they produce ideas in us, 245, B. 11, 12 Secondary qualities, 243, s.13-15 Primary qualities resemble our ideas, seoondaiy not, 246, a. 15,16 Three sorts of qualities in bodies, 250, a. 23, i.e., primary, se- 'oondary, immediately perceiv- able; and secondary, medi- ately, pereivable, 252, s. 26 Secondary are bare powers, 250, 3. 23-25 Secondary have ro discernible connexion with the first, 261, B. 25 Quotations, how little to be relied on, ii. 278, s. 11 DTDEX. .021 ReaJing and study, thoughts con- cerning, U. 497 Real ideas, i. 520, s. 1, 2 Reality of knowledge, ii. 169; de- monstration, 170 Reason, its various significations, ii. 282, s. 1 What, 282, s. 2 Reason is natural revelation, 313, s. 4 It must judge of revelation, 332, a. 14, 15 It must be our last guide in every thing, 332, s. 14, 15 Four parts of reason, 283, a. 3 Where reason fails us, 296, s. 9 Necessary in all but intuition, 298, s. 15 As contra- distinjruished to faith, what, 303, s. 2 Helps us not to the knowledge of innate truths, i. 136, a. 5-8 General ideas, general terms, and reason, usually grow together, 142, b. 15 Reasoning, ii. 282 ; its four parts, 283 ; syllogism not the great instrument of, 284 ; causes of its failure, 296 Recollection, i. 343, s. 1 Reflection, i. 207, s. 4 Related, i. 449, s. 1 Relation, i. 449, s. 1 Proportional, 482, s. 1 Natural, 482, s. 2 Instituted, 483, a. 3 Moral, 483, s. 4 Numerous, 496, a. 17 Terminate iu simple ideas, 496, S.18 Oar clear ideas of relation, 497, S.19 Names ofrelations doubtful, 497, s. 19 Without correlative terms, not so commonly observed, 449, s. 2 Different from the things related, 449, s. 4 Changes without any change in the subject, 451, s. 5 Alwaya between two, 451 a. 6 Relation — All things capable of relation, 451, a. 7 The idea of the relation, often clearer than of the things i-Q- lated, 452, a. 8 All terminate in simple ideas of sensation and reflection, 453, s. 9 Relative, i. 449, s. 1 Same relative terms taken for ex- ternal denominations, 449, S.2 Some for absolute, 450, a. 3 How to be known, 453, a. 10 Many words, though seeming absolute, are relatives, 451, s. 3-5 Religion, all men have time to in- quire into, ii. 323, s. 3 But in many places are hindered from inquiring, 324, s. 4 Remembrance, of great moment in common life, i. 267, s. 8 What, 197, s. 20 ; 266, a. 7 Accounted a sixth sense, by Hobbes, 263 Reputation, of great force in com- mon life, ii. 492, s. 12 Resti-aint, i. 368, a. 13 Resurrection, the author's notion of it, ii. 357 Not necessarily understood of the same body, &c., 357. The meaning of "his body," 2 Cor. V. 10, 357 The same body of Christ arose, and why, 357. How the scrip- ture speaks about it, 376 Retention, i. 262 Revelation, an unquestionable ground of assent, ii. 282, s. 14 Belief, no proof of it, 320, s. 15 Traditional revelation cannot convey any new simple ideas, 304, s. 3 Not so sure as our reason or senses, 305, a. 4 In things of reason, no need of revelation, 306, s. 5 Cannot over- rule our clear know- ledge, 306, a. 6; '309, a. 10 IHDEK. Revelation — Must orer-rule probabilities of reason, 308, s. 8, 9 Eevenge, instance of, i. 381 Reirard, what, i. 485, s. 5 Rewards and punislrments, future, i. 407, 477 Rhetoric, an art of deoeiviufr, ii. 112, ». 34 Sagacity, ii. 136, s. 3 Hobbes' account of, ii. 137 Saints, pretended, among the Turks, their execrable lives, i. 164 Locke's inference disputed, 165 Same, whether substance, mode, or concrete, i. 481, s. 28 Sand, white to the eye, pellucid in a microscope, i> 430, s. 11 Scarlet, a blind man's definition of, ii. 26 Sceptical, no one so sceptical as to doubt his own existence, ii. 230, s. 2 Schools, wherein faulty, ii. 97, b. 6, &c. Science, divided into a considera- tion of nature, of operation, and of signs, ii. 337 No science of natural bodies, s. 26, 162 Scripture ; interpretations of scrip- ture not to be imposed, ii. 93, s. 23 Self, what makes it, i. 475, s. 20 ; 477, s. 23-5 Self-love, i. 533, s. 2 Partly cause of unreasonableness in -as, i. 533, s. 2 Self-evident propositions, where to be had, ii. 201, &c. Neither needed nor admitted proof, 218, s. 19 Sensation, i. 206, a 3 Distinguishable from other per- ceptions, ii. 140, s. 14 Explained, i. 249, s. 21 What, 347, B. 1 why we cannot conceive other qualities, than the ob- jects of ouf eenseg, i. 12S, s. 3 Senses — Learn to discern by exerciae, ii 124, s. 21 Much quicker would not be use- ful to us, i. 430, 8. 12 Our organs of sense suited to oui state, 430, b. 12, 13, Sensible knowledge is as certain as we need, ii. 248, b. 8 Goes not beyond the present act, 249, s. 9 Shame, i. 358, s. 17 Siamese, unjustly accused of im- piety, i. 186 ; their belief, 194 Sick and aged, murder of, among certain nations, 1. 163 Simple ideas, i. 224, s. 1 Not made by the mind, i. 224, s.2 Power of the mind over them 282, s. 1 The materials of all our know- ledge, 239, s. 10 All positive, 239, ». 10 Very different from their causes, 241, s. 2, 3 Sin, with different men, stands for different actions, i. 172, s. 19 Sleepwalking, i. 350 Smell, nature of the sense of, i. 227 Solidity, i. 228, s. 1 Inseparable from body, i. 228, s. 1 By it body fills space, 230, s. 2 This idea got by touch, 228, s. 1 How distinguished from siiat'e, 230, s. 3 How from hardness, 231, s. 4 Something from eternity, demon- strated, ii. 233, B. 8 Sorrow, i. 354, s. 8 Sorts, the common names of sub- stances stand for, ii. 40 ; the essence of each sort is the ab- stract idea, 41 Soul thinks not always, i. 210, s. 9, &c. Not in sound sleep,212, s. 11, &c. Its immateriality, we know not, ii. 143, s. 6 Religion, not concerned in the soul's imTaateriality, 14£, a. 6 INDEX. 523 Soul— Ovir ignorance about it, i. 480, S.27 The immortality of it, not proved by reason, ii. 145, et seq. It is brought to light by revela- tion, ii. 145 Sound, its modes, i. 345, s. 3 tipace, its' idea got by sight and touch, i. 283, s. 2 Its modification, 284, s. i Not body, 289, s. 11, 12 Its parts inseparable, 289, s. 13 Immovable, 290, B. 14 Whether body,or3pirit,291, s.l6 Whether substance, or accident, 291, s. 17 Infinite, 294, b. 21 ; 332, o. 4 Ideas of space and body dis- tinct, 296, ». 24, 25 Considered as a solid, 324, s. 11 Hard to conceive any real being void of spaoe, 324, s. 11 Species ; why changing one simple idea of the complex one, is thought to change the spe- cies in modes but not in sub- stances, ii. 104, H. 19 Of animals and vegetables, dis- tinguished by figure, 59, s. 29 Of other things, by colour, 59, S.29 Made by the underetanding, for communication, 35, s. 9 No species of mixed modes with- out a name, 36, s. 11 Of substances, are determined by the nominal essence, 45-50, &o., s. 7, 8, 11, 13 Not by substantial forms, 47,s. 10 Nor by the real essence, 60, s. 13 ; 55, ». 25 Of spirits, how distinguished, 47. s. 11 More species of creatures above than below us, 49, s. 12 Of creatures very gradual, 49, s.l2 What is necessary to the making of species, by real essences, 61, s. 14, &c. Of auimalB and plants, not dia- Species — tinguished by propagation, 64, s. 23 Of animals and vegetables, dis- tinguished principally by the shape and figure ; of other things, by the colour, 59, s, 29 Of man, likewise in part, 56, s.26 Instance, Abbot of St. Martin, 57, s. 26 Is but a partial conception 'of what is in the individuals, 62, s. 32 It is the complex idea which the name stands for, that makes the species, 64, s, 36 Man makes the species, or sorts, 65, s. 35-37 The foundation of it is in the si- militude found in things, 66, s. 35-37 Every distinct abstract idea, a different species, QQ^ s. 38 Speech, its end, ii. 1, s. 1, 2 Proper speech, 8, s. 8 Intelligible, 8, u. 8 Spirits, the existence of, not know- able, ii. 250, s. 12 How it is proved, 260, s. 12 Operation of spirits on bodies, not conceivable, 164, s. 28 'Wbat knowledge they have of bodies, 124, s. 23. Separate, how their knowledge may exceed ours, i. 268, s. 9 We have as clear a notion of tbe substance of spirit, as of body, 425, s. 5 A conjecture concerning one way of knowledge wherein spirits excel us, 432, s. 13 Our ideas of spirit, 434, o. 14 As clear as that of body, 434, s. 14; 437, s. 22 Primary ideas belonging to spi- rits, 436, s. 18 Move, 436, s. 19 Ideas of spirit and body, com- pared, 437, ». 22 ; 442, s. 30 'Existence of, as eaay to be admit- ted as that of bodies, 440, B.23 624 INDEX. Spirits — We have no idea how spirita coiumuuioate their thoughts, 446, s. 36 How far we are ignorant of the being, species, and properties of spirits, ii. 163, s. 27 The word spirit, does not ne- cessarily denote immateriality, 388 The scripture speaks of material spirits, 388 Strasburg, the great cloclc at, ii. 42 Study, stories of extraordinary pas- sion for, i. 385 Stupidity, i. 267, s. 8 Substance, i. 422, s. 1 No idea of it, 196, s. 18 Not very knowable, 196, a. 18 Our certainty, concerning sub- stances, reaches but a iittle way, ii. 176, s. 11, 12; 216, S.15 The confused idea of substance in general, makes always a part of the essence of the spe- j cies of substances, 52, ». 21 | In substances, we must rectify the signification of their names, by the things, more than by definitions, 125, s. 24 Their ideas single, or collective, i. 281, ». 6 We have no distinct idea of sub- stance, 291, s. 18, 19 We have no idea of pure sub- stance, 423, s. 2 Our ideas of the sorts of Sub- stances, 424, 425, s. 3, 4 ; 426, s. 6 Observable, in our ideas of sub- stances, 446, ». 37 Collective ideas of substances, 447, &c. They are single ideas, 448, s. 2 Three sorts of substances, 459,s. 2 The ideas of substances, have a double reference, 514, s. 6 The properties of substances, numerous, and not all to be kno^vu, 518, s. 9, 10 Substance — The perfeotest ideas of sub- stances, 427, s. 7 Three sorts of ideas make our complex one of substances, 428, s. 9 Idea of it obscure, ii. 144 Not discarded by the Essay, 351 The author's account of it clear as that of noted logicians, 351 We talk like children about it, 356 The author makes not the being of it depend on the fancies of men, 352 The author's principles consist with the certainty of its exist- ence, 352 Subtilty, what, ii. 98, s. 8 Succession, an idea got chiefly from the train of oui' ideas, i. 239, s. 9 ; 303, s. 6 Which train ia the measure of it, 306, s. 12 Summum bonum, wherein it con- sists, i. 395, s. 55 Sun, the name of a species, though but one, ii. 40, s. 1 Syllogism, no help to reasoning, ii. 284, s. 4 The use of syllogism, 284, s. 4 Inconveniences of syllogism, 284, s. 4 Of no use in probabilities,293,s.5 Helps not to new discoveries, 294, s. 6 , Or the improvement of our knowledge, 294, s. 7 Whether in syllogism, the mid- dle terms may not be better placed, 295, s. 8 May be about particulars, 295, Taste and smells, their modeSj i. 346, s. 5 Taylor, Jeremy, on diversity of opinion, ii. 273 Tears and weeping, 1. 354 IKDEX. 625 Teatimony, how it lessens its force, ii. 277, s. 10 TMnking, 1. 347 Modes of thinking, i. 347, s. 1 ; 348, s. 2 Men's ordinary way of thinking, ii. 269, s. 4 An. operation of the soul, i. 211, s. 10 Without niemoiy useless, 216, o. 15 Thoughts concerning reading and study, ii. 497 Time, what, i. 307, ■. 17, 18 Not the measure of motion, 312, s. 22 And place, distinguishable por- tions of infinite duration and expansion, 320, a. 5, 6 Twofold, 320, s. 6, 7 Denominations from time are relatives, 455, s. 3 Toleration, necessary in our state of knowledge, ii. 273, s. 4 Tradition, the older the less cre- dible, ii. 277, s. 10 Transmigration of souls, doctrine of, i. 180 Travellers, early, their accounts of nations of atheists to be re- ceived with doubt, i. 184 rrifling propositions, ii. 219 Discourses, ii. 225— 227, s. 9, 10, H True and false ideas, i. 520 Truth, what, ii. 183, s. 2 ; 185, s. 6 Of thought, 183, s. 3; 187, s. 9 Of words, 183, s.3 Verbal and real, 186, a. 8, 9 Moral, 187, s. 11 Metaphysical, 621, s. 2 General, seldom apprehended, but in words, ii. 188, s. 2 Xn what it consists, 190, s, 5 Love of it necessary, 311, s. 1 How we may know we lore it, 311, s. 1 Vacuum possible, i. 294, ». 22 Motion proves a vacuum, 295, "Vacuum — We have an idea of it, 230, s. 3; 232, s. 5 Variety in men's pursuits, ac- counted for, i. 240, s. 10 Vegetables, identity of, i. 461 Velleity, what, i. 353 Vice lies in wrong measures of good, ii. 334, s. 16 Virtue, what, in reality, i. 172, s. 18 What in its common application, 165, s. 10, 11 Is preferable, under a bare possi- I bilityofafuturestate,406,s.70 How taken, 171, s. 17, 18 Volition, what, i. 363, s. 5 ; 369, s. 15 ; 375, s. 28 Better known by reflection than words, 376, s. 30 Voluntary, what, i. 363, s. 5 ; 367, s. 11 ; 375, s. 27 Understanding, what, i. 363, s. 5, 6 Like a dark room, 278, s. 17 When rightly used, 131, s. 5 Three sorts of perception in, 363, s. 5 Wholly passive in the reception of simple ideas, 223, s. 25 TTneasiness alone determines the will to a new action, i. 376, s. 29, 31, 33, &c. Why it determines the will, 379, s. 36, 37 Causes of it, 397, s. 57, &c. Unity, an idea, both of sensation and reflection, i. 239, e. 7 Suggested by every thing, 325,s. 1 Universal consent, argument of, examined, L 135 Universality, is only in signs, ii. 14 Universals, how made, i. 274, e. 9 Weeping. See Tears. What is, is, is not universally as- sented to, i. 136, s. 4 Where and when, i. 321, s. 8 Whole, bigger than its parts, ita use, ii. 208, ». 11 And part not innate ideaa, i. 18% s. 6 526 raDEx. Will, what, i. 363, s S, 6 j 369, 3. 16 ; 375, s. 28 What determines the will, 37, B. 29 Often confounded with desire, 37, B. 30 Is conversant only about our own actions, 37, B. 30 Terminates m them, 383, s. 40 Is determined by the greatest, present, removable uneasi- ness, 383, s. 40 Wit and judgment, wherein dif- ferent, i. 270, B. 2 Wolf, his theory of innate ideas, i. 140 Worcester, Locke's controversy with the bishop of, ii. 339 VVords, an ill use of, one great hinderance of knowledge, ii. 167, s. 30 Abuse of words, i. 94, ». 1 Sects introduce words without signification, 94, s. 2 The schools have coined multi- tudes of insignificant words, 94, B. 2 And rendered others obscure, 97, s. 6 Often used without signification, 95, s. 3 And why, 96, s. 5 Inconstancy iu their nse, an abuse of words, 96, s, 6 Obscurity, an abuse of words, 97, s. 6 Taking them for things, an abuse of words, 101, s. 14, 15 Who most liable to this abuse of words, 101, s. 14, 15 This abuse of words is a caase of obstinacy in error, 103, s. 16 Making them stand for real es- sences we know not, is an abuse of words, 103, e. 17, 18 The supposition of their certain evident signification, an abuse of words, 107, s. 22 Use of words is, 1. To commu- nicate ideas ' 2. With quick- Words — ness ; 3. lo convey know^ ledge, 108, s. 23, 24 How they fail in aU these, 109, B. 26, etseq. How in substances, 110, 111, s. 32 How in modes andrelationB,110, 111, B. 33 Misuse of words, a gi'eat cause of error, 114, s. 4 Of obstinacy, 115, s. 5 And of wrangling, 116, a. 6 Signify one thing in inquiries, and another in disputes,116,s.7 The meaning of words is made known, in simple ideas, by showing, 120, B. 14 In mixed modes, by defining, 120, s. 15 In substances, by showing and defining too, 123, b. 19 ; 124, s. 21, 22, The ill consequence of learning words first, and their meaning afterwards, 125, s. 24 No shame to ask men the mean- ing of their words where they are doubtful, 126, s. 25 Are to be used constantly in the same sense, 128, s. 26 Qr else to be explained, where the context determines it not, 128, s. 27 How made general, ii. 1, s. 3 , Signifying insensible things, de- rived from names of sensible ideas, 2, b. 5 Have no natural signification, 4, s. 1 But by impoBition, 8, s. 8 Stand immediately for the ideas of the speaker, 4, s. 1-3 Yet with a double reference : — 1. To the ideas in the hearer's mind, 6, s. 4 2. To the reality of things, 7, s. 6 Apt, by custom, to excite ideas, 7, s. 6 Often used without signification, 7, .. 7 rsDEx. 527 Words- Most general, 9, s. 1 Why some words of one language cannot be translated into those of another, 34, ». 8 Why I have been so lai-ge on words, 39, ». 16 New words, or in new significa^ tions, are cautiously to be used, 73, s. 51 Civil use of words, 75, s. 3 Philosophical use of words,75,s.3 These very different, 87, s. 15 Miss their end when they excite not, in the hearer, the same idea as in the mind of the speaker, 80 8. 4 Words — What words most doubtful, and why, 80, s. 5 What unintelligible, 80, u. 5 Fitted to the use of common life, 81, s. 7 Not translatable, 34, s. 8 Worship not an innate idea, i. 183, s. 7 Wrangle, about words, ii. 227, s. 13 Writings, ancient, why hardly t# be precisely understood, ii. 93; s. 22 Zabah, ii. 71 LONDON : EEPRINTED FEOM THE STEEEOTYPE PLATKS BT Wil. 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