:--'^'*1.-#;;.v:'^»i '.v-^e Srom f^e feifirarg of (pxoftBBot ^amuef (ttXiffer in (Wtemori? of Subge ^amuef (gtiffer QSrecftinribge (}}re6enfeb 6g ^amuef (Uliffer QBrecftintibge feong fo f ^e £i6rare of (Princeton S^cofo^tcaf ^entinarj 1//a jf^iL,,^^ ESSAYS O N T H E INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF MAN. / By THOMAS REID, D. D. F. R. S. E. PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THK UNIVERSITY OF 6LASG0W* Wha hath put luifdom in the iivward parts ? Job. V O L. II. DUBLIN: P R I N T I D for L. WHITE, No, 86. D a m e -S t r e e t . M,DCC,LXXXVI, [ Jil J CONTENT S. VOL: IL Page ESSAY IV. OF CONCEPTION. Chap. i. Of conception, or finale apprehenfioningeneral, i ■I 2. Theories concerning conception, 27 3. Mijiakes concerning conception, — 47 — — 4. Of the train of thought in the mind, 59 ESSAY V. OF ABSTRACTION. Chap. i. Of general luords, — — iq — — 2. Of general conceptions, — . — 07 ■ 3- Of general conceptions formed by analyfing oh- jeds, ■ — _ 106 • 4- ^f g^^^ral conceptions formed by comhination, 119 ' 5' Obfer-vations concerning the names gi'ven to our general notions, — . 13-7 ■ 6. Opinion of Philofophers about uni'verfah, \ 43 ESSAY VI. OF JUDGMENT. Chap. i. Of judgment in general, — 168 -— — 2. Of common fenfe, —. — inr ' 3. Sentiment of Philofophers concerning judgment, 211 — 4. Of frji principles in general, — 238 5. The firji principles of contingent truths, 262 i 6. Firjl principles ofneceffary truth, — 296 • 7. Opinions ancient and modern abont firfi prin- ciples, — — 329 ■ 8. Of prejudices, the caufes of error, 351 ESSAY VII. OF REASONING. Chap, i. Of reafoning in general, and of demonflration, 373 • — 2. ^Vhether morality bt capable of demonjlration, 382 Chap. IV CONTENTS. Page. Chap. 3. Of probable reafming, — 394 — — 4. Of Mr. Hume's fcepticifm nuith regard to reafoUy — — 404 ESSAY VIII. OF TASTE. Chap, I. Of tafie in general, — — 421 — — 2. Of the ebjeds of tajie, and frjl of wvelty, 430 3- Of grandeur, — — 435 — 4. Of beauty, -^ — 448 ESSAYS ON THE INTELLECTUAL POWERS OF MAN. ESSAY IV. OF CONCEPTION. CHAP. L Of Conception, or fimple Apprehenjion in General. c ONCEIVING, imagining, apprehend-C H A P. ing, underftanding, having a notion of a L thing, are common words ufed to exprefs that' operation of the underftanding, which the Lo- gicians Q2i\\ fwiple apprehenjion. The having an idea of a thing, is in common language ufed in the fame fenfe, chiefly I think fince Mr. Locke's time. Logicians define fimple apprehenfion to be ' the bare conception of a thing without any judgment or belief about it. If this were in- tended for a ftridly logical definition, it might be a juft objection to it, that conception and h*^ Vol. II. B appre- 2 E S S A y IV. CHAP, apprehenfion are only fynonymous Vv^ords ; and ^J\.^ that we may as well define conception by ap- prehenfion, as apprehenfion by conception ; but it ought to be remembered, that the mofl fimple operations of the mind cannot be logically defined. To have a diftinft no- tion of them, we muil attend to them as we feel them in our own minds. He that would have a diftind notion of a fcarlet colour, will never attain it by a definition ; he mufl fet it before his eye, attend to it, compare it with the colours that come neareft to it, and ob- ferve the fpecific difference, which he will in vain attempt to define. Every man is confcious that he can conceive a thoufand things, of which he believes nothing at all ; as a horfe with wings, a mountain of gold ; but although conception may be with- out any degree of belief, even the finallefl be- lief cannot be without conception. He that believes, mufl have fome conception of what he believes. Without attempting a definition of this ope- ration of the mind, I ihall endeavour to ex- plain fome of its properties ; confider the theo- ries about it ; and take notice of fome mif- takes of Philofophers concerning it. I . It may be obferved, that conception en- ters as an in8;redicnt in every operation of the mind : Our fenfes cannot give us the belief of any objeft, without giving fome conception of it at the fame time : No man can either re- member or reafon about things of which he hath no conception : When we will to exert any of our aftive powers, there mufl be fome conception of what we will to do : There can be no dcfire nor averfion, love nor hatred, with- out fome conception of the objed : We cannot feel Of Simple Apprehension in General. 3 feci pain without conceiving it, though we can CHAP, conceive it witliout feeling it. Thefe things are felf-evident. ' In every operation of the mind therefore, in every thing we call thought there muft be con- ception : When we analyfe the various ope- rations either of the underllanding or of the will, we fhall always find this at the bottom, like the caput mortuum of the Chemifts, or the - materia prima of the Peripatetics ; but though there is no operation of mind v/ithout concep- tion, yet it may be found naked, detached from all others, and then it is called fimple apprehenfion, or the bare conception of a thing. As all the operations of our mind are ex- preffed by language, every one knows, that it is one thing to underfland what is faid, to con- ceive or apprehend its meaning, whether it be a word, a fentence, or a difcourfe ; it is ano- ther thing to judge of it, to alfent or dillent, to be perfuaded or moved. The firfl is fimple apprehenfion, and may be without the lalt, but the lad cannot be without the firft. 2. In bare conception there can neither be truth nor falfehood, becaufe it neither affirms nor denies. Every judgment, and every pro- pofition by which judgment is expreffed, mufl be true or falfe ; and the qualities of true and falfe, in their proper fenfe, can belong to no- thing but to judgments, or to propofitions which exprefs judgment. In the bare concep- tion of a thing there is no judgment, opinion, or belief included, and therefore it cannot be either true or falfe. But it may be faid, Is there any thing more certain than that men may have true or falfe B 1 conceptions. 4 ESSAY IV. C H A P. conceptions, true or fiilfe apprehenfions, of ^ things ? I anfvver, that fuch w ays of fpeaking are indeed lo common, and fo well authorifed by cuftom, the arbiter of language, that it would be prefumption to cenfure them. It is hardly pofiible to avoid ufmg them. But we ought to be upon our guard that we be not milled by them, to confound things, which, ' though often exprelfed by the fame words, are really different. \\ c mud therefore remember what was before obferved, Eifay I. chap. i. That all the words, by which we fignify the bare conception of a thing, are hkewife ufed to fignify our opinions, when we wilh to exprefs them with modefty and diffidence. And we fliall always find, that, when we fpeak of true or falfe conceptions, we mean true or falfe opinions. An opinion, though ever fo waver- ing, or ever fo modeflly exprelfed, mufl be ei- ther true or falfe ; but a bare conception, which exprefles no opinion or judgment, can be neither. If we analyfe thofe fpeeches, in which men attribute truth or falfehood to our conceptions of things, we ihall find in every cafe, that there is fome opinion or judgment implied in what they call conception. A child conceives the moon to be flat, and a foot or two broad ; that is, this is his opinion : And when we fay it is a falic notion, or a falfe concsption, we mean that it is a falfe opinion, lie conceives the city of London to be like his country village ; that is, he believes it to be fo, till he is better intruded. He conceives a lion to have horns ; that is, he believes that the animal which men call a Hon, has horns. Such opinions language authoriks us to call conceptions j and they may Of Simple Apprehension in Guneral. 5 may be true or falfe. But bare conception, C HAP. or what the Logicians call fimple apprehenfion, ^• implies no opinion, however ilight, and there- fore can neither be true norfalTe. What Mr. Locke fays ot ideas (by which word he very often means nothing but concep- tions) is very jufl, when the word idea is fo un- derftood, book 2. chap. 3r« § i. " Though truth and falfehood, belong in propriety of fpeech only to propofitions, yet ideas are often termed true or falfe (as what words are there that are not ufed with great latitude, and with fome deviation from their ftrid: and proper fignification) ; though I think, that when ideas themfelves are termed true or falfe, there is flill fom.e fecret or tacit propo- fition, which is the foundation of that deno- mination ; as we fhall fee, if we examine the particular occafions wherein they come to be called true or falfe ; in all which we fliall find fome kind of affirmation or nega- tion, which is the reafon of chat denomina- tion : For our ideas being nothing but bare appearances, or perceptions in our minds, cannot properly and fimply in themfelves be faid to be true or falfe, no more than a fim- ple name of any thing can be faid to bs? true or falfe." It may be here obferved by the way, that in this pafl'age, as in many others, Mr. Locke ufes the word perception^ as well as the word idea^ to fignify what I call conception, or fim- ple apprehenfion. And in . his chapter upon perception, book 2. chap. 9. he ufes it in the fame fenfe. Perception, he fays, " as it is the " firll facuhy of the mind, exercifed about " our ESSAY IV. our Ideas ; fo it is the firfl and fimplefl: idea we have from refleclion, and is by fome called thinking in general. It feems to be " that which puts the diflinftion betwixt the " animal kingdom and the inferior parts of " nature. It is the firfl operation of all our " faculties, and the inlet of all knowledge " into our minds." Mr. Locke has followed the example given by Des Cartes, Gassendi, and other Car-r tefians, in giving the name of perception to the bare conception of things : And he has been followed in this by Bifhop Berkeley, Mr. Hume, and niany late Philofophers, when they treat of ideas. They have probably been led into this impropriety, by the common dodrine concerning ideas, which teaches us, that conception, perception by the fenfes, and memory, are only different ways of perceiving ideas in our own minds. If that theory be well founded, it will indeed be very difficult to find any fpeclfic diftinftion between conception and perception. But there is reafon to diftruil any philolophlccd tlieory, when it leads men to corrupt language, and to confound, under one name, operations of the mind, which common fcnfe and common lanauao^e teach them to didinguiih. I grant that there are fome ftates of the mind, wherein a man may confound his con- ceptions with what he perceives or remembers, and miftake the one for the other ; as, in the delirium of a fever, in fome cafes of lunacy and of madnefs, in dreaming, and perhaps in fome momentary tranfports of devotion, or of other flrong emotions, which cloud his intel- ledual Of Simple Apprehension in General. 7 ledual faculties, and for a time carry a man^ ^^ -^ P* out of himfelf, as we ufually exprefs it. «>.^/^ Even in a fober and found ftate of mind, the memory of a thing may be fo very weak, that we may be in doubt whether v/e only dreamed or imagined it. It may be doubted, whether children, when their imagination firfl begins to work,- can diflinguifh what they barely conceive from what they remember. I have been told by a man of knowledge and obfervation, that one of his fons, when he began to fpeak, very of- ten told lies with great afl'urance, without any intention, as far as appeared, or any con- fcioufnefs of guilt. From which the father concluded, that it is natural to fome children to lie. I am rather inclined to think, that the child had no intention to deceive, but miftook the rovings of his own fancy, for things which he remembered. This, however, I take to be very uncommon, after children can commu- nicate their fentiments by language, though perhaps not fo in a more early period. Granting all this, if any man will affirm, that they whofe intellectual faculties are found, and fober, and ripe, cannot v/ith certainty diflinguifli what they perceive or remember, from what they barely conceive, when thofe operations have any degree of ftrength and diftinftnefs, he may enjoy his opinion ; I know not how to reafon with him. Why fliould Philofophers confound thofe operations in treating of ideas, when they would be afhamed to do it on other occafions ? To dif- tinguilli the various powers of our minds a certain degree of underftanding is necefiary : And if fome, through a defect of underftand- 8 E S S A Y IV. C H A P-ing, natural or accidental, or from unripenefs ^' of underftanding, may be apt to confound different powers, will it follow that others cannot clearly diftlnguifli them ? To return from this digreffion, into which the abufe of the word perception, by Philofo- phers, has led me, it appears evident, that the bare conception of an objeft, which in- cludes no opinion or judgment, can neither be true nor falfe. Thofe qualities, in their proper fenfe, are altogether inapplicable to this operation of the mind. 3. Of all the analogies between the operati- ons of body and thofe of the mind, there is none fo ftrong and fo obvious to all mankind as that which there is between painting, or other plaflic arts, and the power of conceiving objefts in the mind. Hence in all languages, the words, by which this power of the mind and its various modifications are exprefled, are analogical, and borrowed from thofe arts. We confider this power of the mind as a plaf- tic power, by which we form to ourfelves ima- ges of the objefts of thought. In vain fliould we attempt to avoid this ana- logical language, for we have no other lan- guage upon the fubject ; yet it is dangerous, and apt to miflead. All analogical and figu- rative words have a double meaning ; and, if wc are not very much upon our guard, we Aide infenfibly from the borrowed and figura- tive meaning into the primitive. We are prone to carry the parallel between the things compared farther than it will hold, and thus very naturally to fall into error. To avoid this as far as polTible in the prefent fubjcd:, it is proper to attend to the diffimiH- tude Of Simple Apprehension in General. 9 tude between conceiving a thing in the mind,C HAP. and painting it to the eye, as well as to their ^^^_.^ fimilitiide. The fimiHtude flrikes and gives pleafure. The diflimilitude we are lefs difpo- led to obferve. But the Philofopher ought to attend to it, and to carry it always in mind, in his reafonings on this fubjeft, as a moni- tor, to warn him againfl the errors into which the analogical language is apt to draw him. When a man paints, there is fome work done, which remains when his hand is taken off, and continues to exift, though he fliould think no more of it. Every flroke of his pen- cil produces an eft'ed:, and this effe£t is difle- rent from his action in making it ; for it re- mains and continues to exift when the adion ceafes. The action of painting is one thing, the pidure produced is another thing. The firft is the caufe, the fecond is the eifed. Let us next conlider what is done when he only conceives this pidure. He muft have conceived it before he painted it : For this is a maxim univerfally admitted, that every work of art muft firft be conceived in the mind of the operator. What is this conception ? It is an a6t of the mind, a kind of thought. This cannot be denied. But does it produce any eft'eft befides the a6l itfelf ? Surely com- mon fenfe anfwers this queftion in the nega- tive : For every one knows, that it is one thing to conceive, another thing to bring forth into effed. It is one thing to project, another to execute. A man may think for a long time what he is to do, and after all do nothing. Conceiving as well as projecting or refolving, are what the fchoolmen called mmanejit a£ts of the mind, which produce nothing beyond themfelves. lo E S S A Y IV. CHAP, themfelves. But painting is a tranfitive a6t, ' which produces an effect diftinft from the ope- '^"'"'ration, and this effeft is the picture. Let this therefore be always remembered, that what is commonly called the image of a thing in the mind, is no more than the ad; or operation of the mind in conceiving it. . That this is the common fenfe of men who are untutored by philofophy, appears from their language. If one ignorant of the lan- guage fhould aik, What is meant by conceiv- ing a thing ? we fhould very naturally anfwer. That it is having an image of it in the mind ; and perhaps we could not explain the word better. This fhows, that conception, and the image of a thing in the mind, are fynonymous expreffions. The image in the mind, there- fore, is not the objecl of conception, nor is it any effed: produced by conception as a caufe. It is conception itfelf. That very mode of thinking, which we call conception, is by another name called an image in the mind. Nothing more readily gives the conception of a thing than the feeing an image of it. Hence, by a figure common in language, conception is called an image of the thing conceived. But to fhow that it is not a real but a metaphorical image, it is called an image in the mind. Wc know nothing that is properly in the mind but thought ; and when any thing elfe is faid to be in the mind, the expreilion muft be figurative, and fignify fome kind of thought. I know that Philofophers very unanimoufly maintain, that in conception there is a real image in the mind, v/hich is the immediate ob- ject of conception, and diftind: from the act of conceiving it. I beg the reader's indulgence to 0/" Simple Apprehension in General. ii to defer what may be fald for or againfl: thisC HAP, philofophical opinion to the next chapter ; in- ^• tending in this only to explain what appears to ~"'^ me to belong to this operation of mind, with- out confidering the theories about it. I think it appears from what has been faid, that the common language of thofe who have not im- bibed any philolbphical opinion upon this fub- je6t, authorifes us to underfland the conception of a t/jing, and an image of it in the mind, not as two different things, but as two different expreffions, to fignifyone and the fame thing ; and I wifli to ufe common words in their com- mon acceptation. 4. Taking along with us what is faid in the laft article, to guard us againfl the feduction of the analogical language ufed on this fubjeft, we may obferve a very ftrong analogy, not only between conceiving and painting in ge- neral, but between the different kinds of our conceptions, and the different works of the painter. He either makes fancy piQures, or he copies from the painting of others, or he paints from the life ; that is, from real objedis of art or nature which he has feen. I think our conceptions admit of a divifion very (imi- lar. Firji, There are conceptions Vv^hich may be called fancy piiPtures. They are commonly called creatures of fancy, or of imagination. They are not the copies of any original that exifts, but are originals themfelves. Such was the conception which Swift formed of the if- land of Laputa and of the country of the Lil- liputians ; Cervantes of Don Quixote and his Squire ; Harrington of the government of Oceana j and Sir Thomas More of that of 12 ESSAY IV. C H A P.of Utopia. We can give names to fuch crea- tures of imagination, conceive them diflinftly, ^ and reafon confequentially concerning them, though they never had an exiftence. They were conceived by their creators, and may be conceived by others, but they never exifled. We do not afcribe the qualities of true or falfe to them, becaufe they are not accompanied with any belief, nor do they imply any affir- mation or negation. Setting afide thofe creatures of imagination, there are other conceptions, which may be called copies, becaufe they have an original or archetype to \Vhich they refer, and with which they are believed to agree ; and we call them true or falfe conceptions, according as they agree or difagree with the itandard to which they are referred. Thefe are of two kinds, which have different ftandards or originals. The jirji kind is analogous to pictures taken from the life. We have conceptions of indivi- dual things that really exiil, fuch as the city of London, or the government of Venice. Ilere the things conceived are the originals ; and our conceptions are called true when they agree with the thing conceived. Thus, my con- ception of the city of London is true when I conceive it to be vv^hat it really is. Individual things which really exid, being the creatures of God, (though fome- of them may receive their outward form from man,) he only who made them knows their whole na- ture ; we know them but in part, and there- fore our conceptions of them mull in all cafes be imperfect and inadequate ; yet they may be true and jufl, as far as they reach. The 0/" Simple Apprehension in General. 13 The fecond kind is analogous to the copiesC HAP. which the painter makes from pictures done ^• before. Such I think are the conceptions we'" * have of what the ancients called univtrfals ; that is, of things which belong or may belong to many individuals. Thefe are kinds and fpe- cies of things ; fuch as, man or elephant, which are ipecies of fubilances ; wifdom or courage, which are fpecies of qualities ; equali- ty or hmilitude, which are fpecies of relations. It may be aflced. From what original are thefe corxeptions formed ? And when are they faid to be true or falfe ? It appears to me, that the original from which they are copied, that is, the thing con- ceived, is the conception or meaning which other men who underftand the language affix to the fame words. Things are parcelled into kinds and forts, not by nature, but by men. The individual things we are conneded with, are fo many, that to give a proper name to every individual would be impoifible. We could never attain the knowledge of them that is necelTary, nor converfe nor reafon about them, without fort- ing them according to their different attributes. Thofe that agree in certain attributes are thrown into one parcel, and have a general name given them, which belongs equally to every indivi- dual In that parcel. This common name muft therefore fignify thofe attributes which have been obferved to be common to every individual in that parcel, and nothing elfe. That fuch general words may anfwer their intention, all that is neceffary is, that thofe who ufe them fhould affix the fame meaning or notion, that is, the fame conception to them. The 14 E S S A Y IV. C H A P.The common meaning is the ftandard by which I- fuch conceptions are formed, and they are faid ^-^^ "^ to be true or falfe, according as they agree or difagree with it. Thus, my conception of fe- lony is true and juft, when it agrees with the meaning of that word in the laws relating to it, and in authors who underftand the law. The meaning of the word is the thing conceiv- ed ; and that meaning is the conception affixed to it by thofe who bell underftand the language. An individual is exprelTed in language either by a proper name, or by a general word joined to fuch circumitances as diilinguifh that indi- vidual from all others; if it is unknown, it may, wlien an objecc of fenfe and within reach, be pointed out 'to the fenfes; when beyond the reach of the fenfes, it may be afcertained by a defcription, which, though very imperfeft, may be true and fufficient to difiiinguifh it from every other individual. Hence it is, that, in fpeaking of individuals, we are very little in danger of miftaking the objed:, or taking one individual for another. Yet, as was before obferved, our conception of them is always inadequate and lame. They are the creatures of God, and there are many things belonging to them which we know not, and which cannot be deduced by reafoning from what we know: They have a real eflence, or conftitution of nature, from which all their qualities flow ; but this eflence our faculties do not comprehend : They are therefore inca- pable of definition; for a definition ought to comprehend the whole nature or eflfence of the thing defined. Thus, Weflminfter bridge is an individual objed J though 1 had never feen or heard of it before. Of Simple Apprehension in General. 15 before, if I am only made to conceive that itC H A P. is a bridge from Weftminfter over the Thames, this conception, however imperfeft, is true, and is fufficient to make me diftinguifli it, when it is mentioned, from every other objed that exifts. 'Ihe archited: may have an adequate conception of its fhru<3:ure, which is the work of man; but of the materials v/hich are the work of God, no man has an adequate con- ception ; and therefore, though the objedt may be defcribed, it cannot be defined. Univerfals are always expreffed by general words; and all the words of language, ex- cepting proper names, are general words ; they are the figns of general conceptions, or of fome circumftancs relating to them. Thefe general conceptions are formed for the purpofe of lan- guage and reafoning; and the objed from which they are taken, and to which they are intended to agree, is the conception which other men join to the fame words; they may therefore be adequate, and perfectly agree v/ith the thing conceived. This implies no more than that men who fpeak the fame language may perfectly agree in the meaning of many general words. Thus Mathematicians have conceived what they call a plane triangle: They have defined it accurately; and when I conceive it to be a plane furface, bounded by three right lines, I have both a true and an adequate conception of it. There is nothing belonging to a plane triangle which is not comprehended in this con- ception of it, or deducible from it by juft rea- • foning. This definition expreffes the whole eflence of the thing defined, as every juft de- finition ought to do ; but this eflence is only what Mr. Locke very properly calls a nominal eflence ; i6 ESSAY IV. C HA P. cffence; it is a general conception formed by the mind, and joined to a general word as its fign. If all the general words of a language had a precife meaning, and were perfe£lly under- flood, as mathematical terms are, all verbal difputes would be at an end, and men would never feem to differ in opinion, but when they differ in reality ; but this is far from being the cafe. The meaning of mofl general words is not learned like that of mathematical terms, by an accurate definition, but by the experience we happen to have, by hearing them ufed in converfation. From fuch experience we col- lect their meaning by a kind of indudion; and as this induction is for the molt part lame and imperfed, it happens that different perfons join different conceptions to the fame general word; and though we intend to give them the mean- ing which ufe, the arbiter of language, has put upon them, this is difficult to find, and apt to be miltaken, even by the candid and at- tentive. Hence, in innumerable difputes, men do not really diiler in their judgments, but in the way of expreffmg them. Our conceptions, therefore, appear to be of three kinds: They are either the conceptions of individual things, the creatures of God; or they are conceptions of the meaning of ge- neral words ; or they are the creatures of our own imagination; and thefe different kinds have different properties which we have endea- voured to defcribe. 5. Our conception of things may be flrong and lively, or it may be faint and languid in all degrees. Thefe are qualities which proper- ly belong to our conceptions, though we have no Of Simple Apprehension In General. 17 no names for them but fuch as are analogical. C HAP. Every man is confcious of fuch a difference in ^• his conceptions, and finds his lively conceptions ' ^ mod agreeable, when the obje£t is not of fuch a nature as to give pain. Thofe who have lively conceptions, common- ly cxprefs them in a lively manner, that is, in fuch a manner as to raife lively conceptions and emotions in others. Such perfons are the mod agreeable companions in converfation, and the mod acceptable in their writings. The livelinefs of our conceptions proceeds from different caufes. Some objefts from their own nature, or from accidental affociations, are apt to raife flrong emotions in the mind. Joy and hope, ambition, zeal, and refentment, tend to enhven our conceptions: Difappoint- ment, difgrace, grief, and envy, tend rather to flatten them. Men of keen paffions are commonly lively and agreeable in converfation; and difpalfionate men often make dull compa- nions : There is in feme men a natural ftrength and vigour of mind, which gives ftrength to their conceptions on all fubjeds, and in all the occafional variations of temper. It feems eafier to form a lively conception of objeds that are familiar, than of thofe that are not; our conceptions of vifible objedls are commonly the moft lively, when other circum- ftances are equal : Hence Poets not only delight in the defcription of vifible objeds, but find means by metaphor, analogy, and allufion, to clothe every objeft they defcribe with vifible qualities: The lively conception of thefe makes the object appear, as it were, before our eyes. Lord KaImes, in his Elements of Criticifm, has ffiewn of what importance it is in works Vol. II. C of i8 E S S A Y IV. C H A P. of tafte, to give to objects defcribed, what he I- calls ideal prefence. To produce this in the mind, is indeed the capital aim of poetical and rhetorical defcription. It carries the man, as it were, out of hinifelf, and makes him a fpedtator of the fcene defcribed. This ideal prefence feems to me to be nothing elfe but a lively conception of the appearance which the objedl would make if really prefent to the eye. Abdraft and general conceptions are never lively, though they may be diltindt; and there- fore, however necefl'ary in phJJofophy, feldom enter into poetical defcription, without being particularifed or clothed in fome vifible drefs. It may be obferved, however, that our con- ceptions of vifible objeds become more lively by giving them motion, and more dill by giv- ing them life, and inteliedual qualities. Hence in poetry, the whole creation is animated, and endowed with fenfe and reflection. Imagination, when it is diftinguifhed from conception, feems to me to fignify one fpecies of conception ; to wit, the conception of vi- fible objefts. Thus, in a mathematical pro- portion, I imagine the figure, and I conceive the demonftration; it would not I think be improper to fay, I conceive both ; but it would not be fo proper to fay, I imagine the demon- ftration. 6. Our conceptions of things may be clear, diftinft, and fteady ; or they may be obfcure, indiftind, and wavering. The livelinefs of our conceptions gives pleafure, but it is their dif- tinftnefs and fteadinefs that enables us to judge right, and to exprefs our fentiments with per- fpicuity. If Cy Simple Apprehension in General. 19 If we enquire into the caufe, why among CH A P. perfons fpeaidng or writing on the fame fubjedt, "• we find in one fo much darknefs, in another "^ ^ fo much perfpicuity ; I believe the chief caufc will be found to be, that one had a diflin£l and fteady conception of what he faid or wrote, and the other had not: Men generally find means to exprefs diftinftly what they have con- ceived diftinftly. Horace obferves, that pro- per words fpontaneoully follow diflinft concept tions. " Verbaque prov'ifam rem non inviiafe-' " quuntur.'* But it is impoffible that a man fhould diftinQly exprefs what he has notdiftind- ly conceived. We are commonly taught that perfpicuity depends upon a proper choice of words, a pro- per ftrudure of fentences, and a proper order in the whole compofition. All this is very true, but it fuppofes diftinctnefs in our conceptions, without which there can be neither propriety in our words, nor in the ftrudure of our fen- tences, nor in our method. Nay, I apprehend, that indiftinft concepti- ons of things are, for the moft part, the caufe not only of obfcurity in writing and fpeaking, but of error in judging. Muft not they who conceive things in the fame manner form the fame judgment of their agreements and difagreements ? Is it poffible for two perfons to differ with regard to the conclufion of a fyllogifm who have the fame conception of the premifes? Some perfons find it difficult to enter into a mathematical demonltration. I believe we fhall always find the reafon to be, that they do not diftindly apprehend it. A man cannot be con- vinced by what he does not underftand. On C 2. thQ 20 E S S A Y IV. C H A P.the other hand, 1 think a man cannot under- ^' {land a demonftration without feeing the force of it. I fpeak of fuch demonftrations as thofe of Euclid, where every ftep is fet down, and nothing left to be fupplied by the reader. Sometimes one who has got through the firft four books of Euclid's Elements, and fees the force of the demonftrations, finds difficulty in the fifth. What is the reafon of this? You may find, by a little converfation with him, that he has not a clear and fteady conception of ratios and of the terms relating to them. Wiien the terms ufed in the fifth book have become familiar, and readily excite in his mind a clear and fteady conception of their meaning, you may venture to affirm that he will be able to underftand the demonftra- tions of that book, and to fee the force of them. If this be really the cafe, as it feems to be, it leads us to think that men are very much upon a level with regard to mere judgment, when we take that faculty apart from the ap- prehenfion or conception of the things about which we judge ; fo that a found judgment feems to be the infeparable companion of a clear and fteady apprehenfion : And we ought not to confider thefe two as talents, of which the one may fall to the lot of one man, and the ether to the lot of another, but as talents which always go together. It may, however, be obferved, that fome of our conceptions may be more fubfervient to reafoning than others which are equally clear and diftind It was before obferved, that fome of our conceptions are of individual things, others of things general and abftradt. It Of Simple Apprehension in General. li It may happen, that a man who has very clear C HAP. conceptions of things individual, is not fo hap- py in thofe of things general and abftraft. And this I take to be the reafon why we find men who have good judgment in matters of common life, and perhaps good talents for po- etical or rhetorical compofition, who find it very difficult to enter into abflract reafoning. That I may not appear fingular in putting men fo much upon a level in point of mere judgment, 1 beg leave to fupport this opinion by the authority of two very thinking men, Des Cartls and Cicero. The former, in his diifertation on method, exprefles himfclf to this purpofe : " Nothing is fo equally dif- tributed among men as judgment. Where- fore it feems reafonable to believe, that the power of diflinguifiiing what is true from what is falfe, (which we properly call judgment or right reafon), is by nature equal in all men ; and therefore that the diverfity of our opinions does not arife from one perfon being endowed with a greater power of reafon than another, but only from this, that we do not lead our thoughts in the fame track, nor attend to the fame things." Cicero, in his third book De Oratore, makes this obfervation, " It is wonderful, when the learned and unlearned differ fo much in art, how little they differ in judgment. For art being derived from Nature, is good for nothing, unlefs it move and delight Nature." From what has been faid in this article, it follows, that it is fo far in our power to write and fpeak perfpicuoufly, and to reafon juflly, as it is in our power to form clear and diftind: conceptions of the fubjedt on which we fpeak or 22 ESSAY IV, C H A P. or reafon. And though Nature hath put a wide ditrerence between one man and another ^"'^^^^in this refpe6:, yet that it is in a very confider- able degree in our power to have clear and diflinfi; apprehenfions of things about which we think and reafon, cannot be doubted. 7. It has been obfcrved by many authors, that, when we barely conceive any objed, the ingredients of that conception mufl either be things with which we were before acquainted by fome other original power of the mind, or they mull be parts or attributes of fuch things. Thus a man cannot conceive colours, if he ne- ver faw, nor founds, if he never heard. If man had not a confcience, he could not con- ceive what is meant by moral obligation, or by right and wrong In conduQ:. Fancy may combine things that never were combined in reality. It may enlarge or dimi- nifh, multiply or divide, compound and falhion the objedis which Nature prefents ; but it can- not, by the utmoft effort of that creative Pow- er which we afcribc to it, bring any one fimple ingredient into its productions, which Nature has not framed, and brought to our know- ledge by fome other faculty. This Mr. Locke has expreifedas beautifully as juftly. The dominion of man, in this little world of his own underftanding, is much the fame as in the great world of viilble things ; wherein his power, however managed by art and fkill, reaches no farther than to compound and divide the materials that are made to his hand, but can do nothing towards making the leait particle of matter, or deftroying one atom that is already in being. The fame inability will every one find in himfelf, to fafhion in his Of Simple Apprehension in General. 23 his underftanding any fimple idea not received C HAP. by the powers which God has given him. ^• I think all Philofophers agree in this fenti- ment. Mr. Hume, indeed, after acknow- ledging the truth of the principle in general, mentions what he thinks a fingle exception to it. That a man, who had feen all the fliades of a particular colour except one, might frame in his mind a conception of that fliade which he never faw. 1 think this is not an excepti- on ; becaufe a particular fliade of a colour dif- fers not fpecifically, but only in degree, from other fhades of the fame colour. It is proper to obferve, that our mod fimple conceptions are not thofe which Nature imme- diately prefents to us. When we come to years of underftanding, we have the power of analyfmg the objeds of Nature, of diftinguifh- ing their feveral attributes and relations, of conceiving them one by one, and of giving a name to each, whofc meaning extends only to that fmgle attribute or relation : And thus our mod fimple conceptions are not thofe of any objeft in nature, but of fome fmgle attri- bute or relation of fuch objeds Thus nature prefents to our fenfes, bodies that are extended in three dimenfions, and fo- lid. By analyfmg the notion we have of body from our fenfes, we form to ourfelves the con- ceptions of extenfion, folidity, fpace, a point, a line, a furface ; all which are more fimple conceptions than that of a body. But they are the elements, as it were, of which our conception of a body is made up, and into which it may be analyfed. This power of analyfmg objedts we propofe to confider parti- cularly in another place. It is 'only mentioned here, 24 E S S A Y IV. C HA P. here, that what is faid in this article may not be underflood, fo as to be inconfiftent with it. 8. Though our conceptions mufl be confi- ned to the ingredients mentioned in the lad article, we are unconfined with regard to the arrangement of thofe ingredients. Here we may pick and chufe, and form an endlefs va- riety of combinations and compofitions, which we call creatures of the imagination. Thefe may be clearly conceived, though they never exifted : And indeed every thing that is made, muft have been conceived before it was made. Every work of human art, and every plan of (ionduQ:, whether in public or in private life, muft have been conceived before it is brought to execution. And we cannot avoid thinking, that the Almighty before he created the uni- terfe by his power, had a diftintt conception of the whole and of every part, and faw it to be good, and agreeable to his intention. It is the bufmefs of man, as a rational crea- ture, to employ this unhmited power of con- ception, for planning his condud; and enlarg- ing his knowledge. It feenis to be peculiar to beings endowed with reafon to 2.3: by a pre- conceived plan. Brute animals feem either to want this power, or to have it in a very low degree. They are moved by inftinft, habit, appetite, or natural aifedtion, according as fhcfe principles are ftirred by the prefent 6ccd.fion. But I fee no reafon to think that they can propofe to themfelves a conneded plan of life, or form general rules of condud. Indeed, we fee that many of the human fpe- cies, to whom God has given this power, make little ufe of it. They ad without a plan, as Of Simple Apprehension in General. 15 as the paflion or appetite which is ftrongeft: at C H A P. the time leads them. ^• 9. The laft property I fliall mention of this faculty, is that which eflentially diltinguifhes it from every other power of the mind ; and it is, that it is not employed folely about things which have exigence. I can conceive a wing- ed horfe or a centaur, as eafily and as diflin£i:- ly as I can conceive a man whom I have feen. In or does this diftinct conception incline my judgment in the leaft to the belief, that a wing- ed horfe or a centaur ever exiiled. It is not fo with the other operations of our minds. They are employed about real exift- ences, and carry with them the belief of their objects. When 1 feel pain, I am compelled to believe that the pain that I feel has a real exift- ence. When I perceive any external obje6t, my belief of the real exiftence of the objett is irrefiftible. When I diftinO:ly remember any event, though that event may not now exift, I can have no doubt but it did exift. That confcioufnefs which we have of the ope- rations of our own minds implies a belief of the real exiflence of thofe operations. Thus we fee, that the powers of fenfation, of perception, of memory, and of confciouf- nefs, are all employed folely about objeds that do exift, or have exifted. But conception is often employed about objeds that neither do, nor did, nor will exift. This is the very na- ture of this faculty, that its objed, though diftinftly conceived, may have no exiftence. Such an object we call a creature of imagina- tion ; but this creature never was created. That we may not impofe upon ourfelves in this matter, we muft diftinguifti between that 26 ESSAY IV. CH A P.aft or operation of the mind, which we call conceiving an objed:, and the objed which we ^^^^^^ conceive. When we conceive any thing, there is a real a£t or operation of the mind ; of this we are confcious, and can have no doubt of its exigence : But every fuch a6t muft have an objeft ; for he that conceives, muft conceive fomething. Suppofe he conceives a centaur, he may have a diftinft conception of this ob- jeft,, though no centaur ever exifled. I am afraid, that, to thofe who are unac- quainted with the doftrine of Philofophers upon this fubjeft, I fhall appear in a very ridiculous light, for infifting upon a point fo very evident, as that men may barely conceive things that never exifted. They will hardly beUeve, that any man in his wits ever doubted of it. In- deed, I know no truth more evident to the common fenfe and to the ''experience of man- kind. But if the authority of philofophy, an- cient and modern, oppofes it, as I think it does, I wifh not to treat that authority fo fafti- dioufly, as not to attend patiently to what may be faid in fupport of it. CHAP. THEORIES concerning CONCEPTION. CHAP. 11. Theories concerning Conception, THE theory of ideas has been applied to the conception of objeds as well as to perception and memory. Perhaps it will be irkfome to the reader, as it is to the writer, to return to that fubjeft, after fo much has been faid upon it ; but its application to the conception of objects, which could not proper- ly have been introduced before, gives a more comprehenfive view of it, and of the preju- dices which have led Philofophers fo unani- moufly into it. There are two prejudices which feem to me to have given rife to the theory of ideas in all the various forms in which it has appeared in the courfe of above two thoufand years ; and though they have no fupport from the natural didates of our faculties, or from attentive re- flexion upon their operations, they are preju- dices which thofe who fpeculate upon this fub- je6l, are very apt to be led into by analogy. Th^JirJi is. That in all the operations of the underftanding there muft be fome immediate intercourfe between the mind and its object, fo that the one may ad upon the other. The fecond. That in all the operations of under- ftanding there muft be an objed; of thought, , which really exifts while we think of it ; or, as fome Philofophers have expreifed it, that which is not, cannot be intelligible. Had Philofophers perceived, that thefe are prejudices grounded only upon analogical reafoning, 28 ESSAY IV. CH A P.reafoning, we had never heard of ideas in the ^■^ philofophica! fenfe of that word. The tirfl of thefe principles has led Philofo- phers to think, that as the external objefts of fenfe are too remote to ad upon the mind im- mediately, there mufl; be fome image or fliadow of them that is prcfent to the mind, and is the immediate objeft of perception. That there is fuch an immediate objeft of perception, dif- tincl from the external objed, has been very unanimoufly held by Philofophers, though they have differed much about the name, the nature, and the origin of thofe immediate objects. We have confidered what has been faid in thefupport of this principle, EiTav II. chap. 14. to which the reader is referred, to pre- vent repetition. I fhall only add to what is (here faid. That there appears no fliadow of reafon why the mind muft have an objed immediately prefent to it in its Iiifelleclual operations, any more than in its affeftions and paffions. Philofo- phers have not faid, that ideas are the immedi- ate objects of love or refentment, of efteeni or difapprobatioil. It is, I think, acknowledged, that perfons and not ideas are the immediate objtd:s of thofe affections ; perfons, xvho are as far frorti being immediately prefent to the mind as other external objeQis, and fometimes perfons who have now no exigence in this world at leaf!, and who can neither a£t upon the mind, nor be afted upon by if. The fecond principle, which I conceive to ' be likeAX'ife a prejudice of Philofophers ground- ed upon analogy, is now to be confidered. It contradidls directly what was laid down in tile hft article of the preceding chapter, to wit, that THEORIES concerning CONCEPTION. 29 that we may have a di(lin£l conception of C HAP. things which never exifted. This is undoubt- ^^• cdly the common belief of thofe who have not ^""^''"^ been inftrufted in philofophy ; and they will think it as ridiculous to defend it by reafoning, as to oppofe it. The Philofopher fays, Though there may be a remote object which docs not exift, there mufl be an immediate object which really ex- ifts ; for that which is not, cannot be an objecb of thought. The idea mufl: be perceived by the mind, and if it does not exift: there, there can be no perception of it, no operation of the mind about it. This principle deferves the more to be exa- mined, becaufe the other before mentioned de- - pends upon it ; for although the iaft: may be true, even if the firfl: was faife, yet if the lail be not true, neither can the firfl : If we can conceive objefts which have no exift:ence, it follows, that there may be objeds of thought which neither ad: upon the mind, nor are adled upon by it ; becaufe that which has no exift- ence can neither ad nor be acted upon. It is by thefe principles that Philofophers have been led to think, that in every ad of memory and of conception, as well as of per- ception, there are two objeds. The one, the . immediate objed, the idea, the fpecies, the form : The other, the mediate or external ob- jed. The vulgar know only of one objed, which in perception is fomething external that exifts ; in memory, fomething that did exift:, and in conception, may be fomething that never exift:ed : But the immediate objed of the Philofophers, the idea, is faid to exiil, and to be perceived in all thefe operations, Thefe 30 E S S A Y IV. Thefe principles have not only led Philofo- phers to fplit objeds into two, where others can find but one^ but likewife have led them to reduce the three operations now mentioned to one, making memory and conception, as well as perception, to be the perception of ideas. But nothing appears more evident to the vulgar, than that, what is only remember- ed, or only conceived, is not perceived ; and to fpeak of the perceptions of memory, ap- pears to them as abfurd, as to fpeak of the hearing of fight. In a word, thefe two principles carry us into the whole philofophical theory of ideas, and furnilh every argument that ever was ufed for their exiftence. If they are true, that fyllem mud be admitted with all its confequences: If they are only prejudices, grounded upon ana- logical reafoning, the whole fyftem mull fall to the ground with them. It is, therefore, of importance to trace thofe principles, as far as we are able, to their origin, and to fee, if pofTible, whether they have any jufl foundation in reafon, or whether they are rafh conclufions, drawn from a fuppofed ana- logy between matter and mind. The unlearned, who are guided by the dic- tates of Nature, and cxprefs what they are confcious of concerning the operations of their own mind, believe, that the objeft which they diftinftly perceive certainly exifts ; that the ob- ject which they diftin£lly remember certainly did exift, but now may not; but as to things that are barely conceived, they knowxhat they can conceive a thoufand things that never ex- ifted, and that the bare conception of a thing does not fo much as afford a prefumption of its exiftence. THEORIES concerning CONCEPTION. 31 exiftence. They give themfelves no trouble to C H A P. know how thefe operations are performed, or to account for them from general principles. But Philofophers, who wdfh to difcover the caufes of things, and to account for thefe ope- rations of mind, obferving, that in other ope- rations there muft be not only an agent, but fomething to a I take imagination, in its moft proper fenfe, to fignify a lively conception of objects of fight. This is a talent of importance to poets and orators, and deferves a proper name, on account of its connexion with thofe arts. Ac- cording to this ftricl meaning of the word, imagination is diftinguiihed from conception as a part from the whole. We conceive the objedts of the other fenfes, but it is not fo pro- per to fay that we imagine them. We conceive judgment, reafoning, propofitions, and argu- ments; but it is rather improper to fay that we imagine thefe things. This diflinftion between imagination and conception, may be illuftrated by an example, which Des Cartes ufes to illuftrate the diftinc- tion between imagination and pure intelleclion. We can imagine a triangle or a fquare fo clear- ly as to diftinguifh them from every other fi- gure. But we cannot imagine a figure of a thoufand equal fides and angles, fo clearly. The befl eye, by looking at it, could not dif- tinguifh it from every figure of more or fewer fides. And that conception of its appearance to the eye, which we properly call imagination, cannot be more diftinfl: than the appearance itfelf; yet we can conceive a figure of a thou- fand fides, and even can demonftrate the pro- perties which diftinguifli it from all figures of more or fewer fides. It is not by the eye, but by a fuperior faculty, that we form the notion of a great number, fuch as a thoufand: And a diftind notion of this number of fides not t)eing to be got by the eye, it is not imagined Vol. II. E but so ESSAY IV. C H A P. but It is diftinftly conceived, and eafily difliit- ^^^- guifhed from every other number. ^'*^^ 3. Simple apprehenfion is commonly repre- fented as the firfl operation of the underftand- ing; and judgment, as being a compofition or combination of fimple apprehenfions. This miftake has probably arifen from the taking fenfation, and the perception of objeds by the fenfes, to be nothing but fmiple appre- henfion. They are very probably the firft ope- rations of the mind, but they are not fimple apprehenfions. It is generally allowed, that we cannot con- ceive founds if we have never heard, nor co- lours if we have never feen; and the fame thing may be faid of the objedts of the other fenfes. In like manner, we mufl have judged or reafoned before we have the conception or fimple apprehenfion of judgment, and of rea- foning. Simple apprehenfion, therefore, though it be the fimpleft, is not the firft operation of the underftanding ; and inftead of faying, that the more complex operations of the mind are formed by compounding fimple apprehenfions, we ought rather to fay, that fimple apprehen- fions are got by analyfing more complex ope- rations. A fimilar miftake, which is carried through the whole of Mr. Locke's Effay, may be here mentioned. It is, that our fimpleft ideas or conceptions are got immediately by the fenfes, or by confcioufnefs, and the complex after- wards formed by compounding them. I ap- prehend, it is far otherwife. Nature prefents no objed to the fenfes, or to confcioufnefs, that is not complex. Thus, by MISTAKES concerning CONCEPTION. 51 by our fenfes we perceive bodies of various CHAP. kinds; but every body is a complex object; I^^- it has length, breadth, and thicknefs ; it has ' " " ' "^ figure, and colour, and various other fenfible qualities, which are blended together in the fame fubjecl ; and I apprehend, that brute ani- mals, who have the fame fenfes that we have, cannot feparate the different qualities belonging to the fame fubjeft, and have only a complex and confufed notion of the whole: Such alfo "would be our notions of the objetts of fenfe, if we had not fuperior powers of underftand- ing, by which we can analyfe the complex ob- jeft, abftraft every particular attribute from the reft, and form a dillinft conception of it. So that it is not by 'the fenfes immediately, but rather by the powers of analyfmg and ab- ftraftion, that we get the moil fimple, and the moft diftin«5t notions even of the objefts of fenfe. This will be more fully explained in another place. 4. There remains another mift^.ke concern- ing conception, which deferves to be noticed. It is, that our conception of things is a te(t of their poffibility, fo that, what we can difdnclly conceive, we may conclude to be poflible^ and of what is impoffible, we can have no conception. This opinion has been held by Philosophers for more than an hundred years, without con- tradiction or diffent, as far as 1 know; and if it be an error, it may be of fome ufe to enquire into its origin, and the caufes that it has been fo generally received as a maxim, whofe truth could not be brought into doubt. One of thefruitlefs queftions agitated among the fcholaftic Philofophers in the dark ages was, E 2 ■ What 52 E S S A Y IV. CHAP. What is the criterion of truth ? as if men ^^^' could have any other way to diflinguifli truth from error, but by the right ufc of that power of judging which God has given them. Des Cartes endeavoured to put an end to this controverfy, by making it a fundamental principle in his fyilem, that whatever we clear- ly and diftinclly perceive, is true. To underfland this principle of Des Car- tes, it muft be obferved, that he gave the name of perception to every power of the hu- man underftanding ; and in explaining this very maxim, he tells us, that fenfe, imagina- tion, and pure intellection, are only different modes of perceiving, and fo the maxim was underftood by all his followers. The learned Dr. Cudworth feems alfo to have adopted this principle: " The criterion " of true knowledge, fays he, is only to be " looked for in our knowledge and concepti- " tions themfelves: For the entity of all theo- " retical truth is nothing elfe but clear intel- *' li'gibility, and whatever is clearly conceived " is an entity and a truth ; but that which is " falfe. Divine power itfelf cannot make it to *' be clearly and diftindly underftood. A " falfehood can never be clearly conceived or " apprehended to be true." Etern. and Im- mut. Morality, p. 172, Is'c. This Cartefian maxim feems to me to have led the way to that now under confideration, which feems to have been adopted as the pro- per correction of the former. When the au- thority of Des Cartes declined, men began to fee that we may clearly and diftindly con- ceive what is not true, but thought, that our conception, though not in all cafes a teft of truth, might be a teft of poflibility. This MISTAKES concerning CONCEPTION. $3 This indeed feems to be a neceflary confe-C H A P. quence of the received dodrine of ideas; it J^\^ being evident, that there can be no diflind image, either in the mind or any where elfe, of that which is impoffibie. The ambiguity of the word conceive, which we obferved EiTay I. chap, t . and the common phrafeology of faying we cannot concei've fiich a thing, when, we would fignify that we think it impoffibie, might Hkewife contribute to the reception of this dodrine. But whatever was the origin of this opinion, it feems to prevail univerfally, and to be re- ceived as a maxim. " The bare having an idea of the propofition " proves the thing not to be impoffibie; for " of an impoffibie propofition there can be no " idea." Dr. Sam. Clarke. " Of that which neither does nor can exift " we can have no idea." L. Bolingbroke. ** The meafure of impoffibility to us is in- " conceivablenefs, that of which we can have " no idea, but that refleding upon it, it ap- " pears to be nothing, we pronounce to be " impoffibie." Aebernethy. " In every idea is implied the poffibility of " the exiflence of its objed:, nothing being " clearer than that there can be no idea of an " impoffibility, or conception of what cannot " exift." Dr. Price. " Impoffibile eft cujus nullam notionemfor- " mare poflumus; poffibile e contra, cui ali- " qua refpondet notio." Wolfii Ontolog. " It is an eftabliftied maxim in metaphyfics, '' that whatever the mind conceives^ includes " the idea of poffiible exiftence, or, in other " words, that nothing we imagine is abfolutely " impoffibie." D. Hume. It 54 E S S A Y IV. CHAP. It were eafy to mufter up many other ref- • pcflable authorities for this maxim, and I have ~^~ never found one that called it in queftion. If the maxim be true in the extent which the famous Wolfius has given it, in the paf- fage above quoted, we fhall have a fhort road to the determination of every queftion about the poffibility or impoffibility of things. We need only look into our own bread, and that, like the Urim and Thummim, will give an in- fallible anfwer. If we can conceive the thing, it is poffible; if not, it is impoffible. And furely every man may know whether he can conceive Vv^hat is affirmed or not. Other Philofophers have been fatisfied with one half of the maxim of Wolfius. They fay, that whatever we can conceive is poffible ; but they do not fay, that whatever we cannot conceive is impoffible. I cannot help thinking even this to be a mif- take, which Philofophers have been unwarily led into, from the caufes before mentioned. My reafons are thefe : I. Whatever is faid to be poffible cr impof- fible is expreffed by a propofition. Now, What is it to conceive a propofition? I think it is no more than to underftand diftinclly its meaning. I know no more that can be meant by fimple apprehenfion or conception, when appUed to a propofition. The axiom, there- fore, amounts to this: Every proportion, of which you underftand the meaning diftinclly, is poffible. I am perfuaded, that I underftand as diftindlly the meaning of this propofition. Any twojtdes of a triangle are together equal to the thirds as of this. Any two fides of a triangle are together greater than the third; yet the firft of thefe is impoffible. Perhaps MISTAKES concerning CONCEPTION. $5 Perhaps it will be faid, that though you un- CHAP, derfland the meaning of the impoffible propo- iitign, you cannot fuppofe or conceive it to be true. Here we are to examine the meaning of the phrafes oi Juppofing and conceiving a propofition to be true. I can certainly fuppofe it to be true, becaufe I can draw confequences from it which I find to be impoffible, as well as the pro- pofition itfelf. If by conceiving it to be true be meant giv- ing fome degree of affent to it, however fmall, this, I confefs, I cannot do. But will it be faid, that every propofition to which I can give any degree of aflent is poffible ? This contra- didls experience, and therefore the maxim can- not be true in this fenfe. Sometimes, when we fay that we cannot con- ceive a thing to he true, we mean by that ex- preffion, that we judge it to be impojfihle. In this fenfe, I cannot, indeed, conceive it to be true, that two fides of a triangle are equal to the third. I judge it to be impoffible. If, then, we underftand in this fenfe that maxim, that nothing we can conceive is impoffible, the meaning will be, that nothing is impoffible which we judge to be poffible. But does it not often happen, that what one man judges to be poffible, another man judges to be impoffible? The maxim, therefore, is not true in this fenfe. I am not able to find any other meaning of conceiving a propofition, or ot conceiving it to he true, befides thefe I have mentioned. I know nothing that can be meant by having the idea of a propofition, but either the underftanding its meaning, or the judging of its truth. I can underftand 56 E S S A Y iV. C H A P-underftand a propofition that is falfe or Impofli- ble, as well as one that is true orpoffible ; and j'^^^' I find that men have contradictory judgments about what is poffible or impoflible, as well as about other things. In what fenfe then can it be faid, that the having an idea of a propofi- tion gives certain evidence that it is poflible ? If it be faid, that the idea of a propofition IS an image of it in the mind ; I think indeed there cannot be a diftincl image either in the mind, or elfewhere, of that which is impoffi- ble ; but what is meant by the image of a pro- pofition I am not able to comprehend, and I fhall be glad to be informed. 2. Every propofition that is neceifarily true, Hands oppofed to a contradictory propofition that is impoflible ; and he that conceives one, conceives both : Thus a man who believes that two and three neceffarily make five, mufl be- lieve it to be impoilible that two and three fhould not make five. He conceives both pro- pofitions when he believes one. Every propo- fition carries its contradidtory in its bofom, and both are conceived at the fame time. " It is *' confefTed, fays Mr. Hume, that in all cafes " where we diffent from any perfon, we con- " ceive both fides of the quefbion, but we can " beheve only one." From this it certainly follows, that when we diffent from any perfon about a neceffarv propofition, we conceive one that is impoflible ; yet I know no Philofopher who has made fo much ufe of the maxim, that whatever we conceive is poffible, as Mr. Hume. A great part of his peculiar tenets is built upon it ; and if it is true, they muft be true. But he did not perceive, that in the paffagc MISTAKES concerning CONCEPTION. 57 paflage now quoted, the truth of which is evi-C H A P» dent, he contradicts it himfeU. ' !^. Mathematicians have, in many cafes, pro- ved fome things to be poiTible, and others to be impoflible ; which, without demonftration, would not have been beUeved : Yet I have never found, that any Mathematician has at- tempted to prove a thing to be poflible, be- caufe it can be conceived ; or impofTible, be- caufe it cannot be conceived. Why is not this maxim appHed to determine whether it is pofli- ble to fquare the circle ? a point about which ■very eminent Mathematicians have differed. It is eafy to conceive, that in the infinite feries of numbers, and intermediate fradtions, fome one number, integral or fractional, may bear the farne ratio to another, as the fide of a fquare bears to its diagonal ; yet, however con- ceivable this may be, it may be demonftrated to be impoflible. 4. Mathematicians often require us to con- ceive things that are impoflible, in order to prove them to be fo. This is the cafe in all their demonftrations, ad abfurdu?n. Conceive, fays Euclid, a right line drawn from one point of the circumference of a circle to ano- ther, to fall without the circle 5 I conceive this, I reafon from it, until I come to a confequence that is manifeftly abfurd ; and from thence conclude, that the thing which I conceived is impoflible. Having faid fo much to fliew, that our pow- er of conceiving a propofition is no criterion of its poflibility or impoflibility, I fliall add a few obfervations on the extent of our know- ledge of this kind. I. There 58 E S S A Y IV. CHAP. I. There are many propofitions which, by ^^^' the faculties God has given us, we judge to be neceflary, as well as true. All mathematical proportions are of this kind, and many others. The contradiftories of fuch propofitions muft be impoffible. Our knowledge, therefore, of what is impoffible, muft at lead be as exten- five as our knowledge of neceflary truth. 2. By our fenfes, by memory, by teftimony, and by other means, we know many things to be true, which do not appear to be necelfary. But whatever is true, is poffible. Our know- ledge, therefore, of what is poffible, muft at leaft extend as far as our knowledge of truth. 3. If a man pretends to determine the poffi- bility or impoffibiUty of things beyond thefe limits, let him bring proof. I do not fay that no fuch proof can be brought. It has been brought in many cafes, particularly in mathe- matics. But I fay, that his being able to con- ceive a thing, is no proof that it is poffible. Mathematics afford many inftances of impoffi- bilities in the nature of things, which no man would have believed, if they had not been ftriftly demonftrated. Perhaps, if we were able to reafon demonftratively in other fub- jedls, to as great extent as in mathematics, we might find many things to be impoffible, which we conclude, v/ithout hefitation, to be poffible. It is poffible, you fay, that God might have made an univerfe of fenfible and rational crea- tures, into which neither natural nor moral evil fliould ever| enter. It may be fo, for what I know : But how do you know that it is poffible ? That you can conceive it, I grant ; but this is no proof. I cannot admit, as an argument, or even as a preffing difficulty, what Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 59 what Is grounded on the fuppofition that fuch CHAP, a thing is polTible, wlien there is no good evi- ^ • dance that it is pofTible, and, for any thing we know, it may in the nature of things be irn- poffible. CHAP. IV. Of the Train of Thought in the Mind, EVERY man is confcious of a fucceflion of thoughts which pafs in his mind while he is awake, even when they are not excited by external objefts. The mind on this account may be compared to liquor in the (late of fermentation. When it is not in this flate, being once at reft, it remains at reft, until it is moved by fome ex- ternal impulfe. But, in the ftate of fermenta- tion, it has fome caufe of motion in itfelf, which, even when there is no impulfe from without, fufl'ers it not to be at reft a moment, but produces a conftant motion and ebullition, while it continues to ferment. There is furely no fimilitude between motion and thought ; but there is an analogy, fo ob- vious to all men, that the fame words are often applied to both ; and many modifications of thought have no name but fuch as is borrovv'ed from the modifications of motion. Many thoughts are excited by the fenfes. The cau- fes or occafions of thefe may be confidered as external : But, when fuch external caufes do not operate upon us, we continue to think from fome internal caufe. From the conftitu- tion of the mind itfelf there Is a conftant ebul- lition 6o E S S A Y IV. C H A P.litlon of thought, a conftant Inteftine motion; • not only of thoughts barely fpeculative, but of ^"^'^^"'"^ fentiments, paffions and ailedions, which at- tend them. This continued fucceffion of thought has, by modern Philofophers, been called the ima- g'mation, I think it was formerly called the fancy, or the pbantafy. If the old name be laid afide, it were to be wiflied that it had got a name lefs ambiguous than that of imaginati- on, a name which had two or three meanings befides. It is often called the train of ideas. Thia may lead one to think that it is a train of bare conceptions ; but this would furely be a mif- take. It is made up of many other operations of mind, as well as of conceptions, or ideas. Memory, judgment, reafoning, paffions, af- feftions and purpofes ; in a word, every ope- ration of the mind, excepting thofe of fenfe, is exerted occafionally in this train of thought, and has its fliare as an ingredient : So that we muft take the word idea in a very extenfive fenfe, if we make the train of our thoughts to be only a train of ideas. To pafs from the name, and confider the thing, we may obferve, that the trains of thought in the mind are of two kinds ; they are either fuch as flow fpontaneoufly, like wa- ter from a fountain, without any exertion of a governing principle to arrange them ; or they are regulated and directed by an adive effort ' of the mind, withfome view and intention. Before we confider thefe in their order, it is proper to premife, that thefe two kinds, how- ever di(lin(^ in their nature, are for the mod part Of the Train of Thought In the Mind. 6i part mixed, in perfons awake and come toCHAP. years of underftanding. • On the one hand, we are rarely fo vacant of all project and defign, as to let our thoughts take their own courfe, without the lead check or direftion : Or if at any time we fhould be in this ftate, fome obje6l will prefent itfelf, "which is too interefling not to engage the at- tention, and roufe the active or contemplative powers that were at reft. On the other hand, when a man is giving the moft intenfe application to any fpeculation^ or to any fcheme of conduct, when he wills to exclude every thought that is foreign to his prefent purpofe, fuch thoughts will often im* pertinently intrude upon him, in fpite of his endeavours to the contrary, and occupy, by a kind of violence, fome part of the time defti- ned to another purpofe. One man may have the command of his thoughts more than ano- ■ ther man, and the fame man more at^ne time than at another : But I apprehend, in the beft trained mind the thoughts will fometimes be reftive, fometimes capricious and felf-willed> when we wilh to have them moft under com- mand. It has been obferved very juftly, that we muft not afcribe to the mind the power of cal- ling up any thought at pleafure, becaufe fuch a call or volition fuppofes that thought to be already in the mind ; for otherwife, how fliould it be the objed of volition ? As this muft be granted on the one hand, fo it is no lefs certain on the other, that a man has a con- fiderable power in regulating and difpofmg his own thoughts. Of this every man is confci- ous, 62 IE S S A Y .IV. CHAP, ous, and I can no more doubt of it, than 1 ^^- can doubt whether I think at all. We feetn to treat the thoughts that prefent themfelves to the fancy in crowds, as a great man treats thofe that attend his levee. They are all ambitious of his attention ; he goes round the circle, bellowing a bow upon one, a fmile upon another ; afks a fhort queftion of a third ; while a fourth is honoured with a particular conference ; and the greater part have no particular mark of attention, but go as they came. It is true, he can give no mark of his attention to thofe who were not there, but he has a fufficient number for making a choice and diftin6:ion. In like manner, a number of thoughts pre- fent themfelves to the fancy fpontaneoully ; but if we pay no attention to them, nor hold any conference with them, they pafs with the crowd, and are immediately forgot, as if they had never appeared. But thofe to which we think proper to pay attention, maybe flopped, examined, and arranged, for any particular purpofe we have in view. It may likewife be obferved, that a train of thought, which was at hrft compofed by appli- cation and judgment, when it has been often repeated, and becomes familiar, will prefent itfelf fpontaneoufiy. Thus when a man has compofed an air in mulic, fo as to pleafe his own ear ; after he has played, or fung it often, the notes will arrange themfelves in jufi order ; and it requires no effort to regulate their fuc- ceflion. Thus we fee, that the fancy is made up of trains of thinking ; fome of which are fponta- neous, others fludied and regulated j and the greater Of the Train of Thought /*« the Mind. 6-^ greater part are mixed of both kinds, andCHAP. take their denomination from that which is IV. moft prevalent : And that a train of thought, * ^"^ which at firft was ftudied and compofed, may by habit prefent itfelf fpontaneoudy. Having premifed thefe things, let us return to thofe trains of thought which are fpontaneous, which muft be firft in the order of nature. When the w^ork of the day is over, and a man lies down to relax his body and mind, he cannot ceafe from thinking, though he defires it. Something occurs to his fancy ; that is fol- lowed by another thing, and fo his thoughts are carried on from one objed: to another, until fleep clofes the fcene. In this operation of the mind, it is not one faculty only that is employed ; thei-e are many that join together in its production. Some- times the tranfadions of the day are brought upon the ftage, and a£ted over again, as it were, upon this theatre of the imagination* In this cafe, memory furely a£ts the mod con- fiderable part, fince the fcenes exhibited are not fidions, but realities, which we remem- ber ; yet in this cafe the memory does not a6l alone, other powers are employed, and attend upon their proper objects. The tranfa£tions remembered will be more or lefs interefting ; and we cannot then review our own conduct, nor that of others, without pafTmg fome judg- ment upon it. This we approve, that we dif- approve. This elevates, that humbles and de- prelTes us. Perfons that are not abfolutely in- different to us, can hardly appear, even to the imagination, without fome friendly or un- friendly emotion. We judge and reafon about things, as well as perfons in fuch reveries. We remember 64 ^ E S S A Y IV. CHAP, remember what a man faid and did ; from this TV • . ^*' we pafs to his defigns, and to his general cha- rafter, and frame fome hypothefis to make the whole confiftent. Such trains of thought we may call hiflorical. There are others which we may call roman- tic, in which the plot is formed by the creative power of fancy, without any regard to what did or will happen. In thefe alfo, the powers of judgment, taile, moral fentiment, as well as the paflions and affections, come in and take a fhare in the execution. In thefe fcenes, the man himfelf commonly ads a very diftinguifhed part, and feldom does any thing which he cannot approve. Here the mifer will be generous, the coward brave, and the knave honefl. Mr. AoDisoisr, in the Spedator, calls this play of the fancy, callle building. The young Politician, who has turned his thoughts to the affairs of government, becomes in his imagination a minifler of flate. He ex- amines every fpring and wheel of the machine of government with the niceft eye, and th& moft exa6t judgment. He finds a proper re- medy for every diforder of the commonwealth, quickens trade and manufadures by falutary laws, encourages arts and fciences, and makes the nation happy at home, and refpeded abroad. He feels the reward of his good ad- miniflration, in that felf-approbation which at- tends it, and is happy in acquiring, by his wife and patriotic conduft, the blefhngs of the prefent age, and the praifes of thofe that are to come. It is probable, that, upon the flage of ima- gination, more great exploits have been per- formed Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 6^ formed in every age, than have been upon theC H A P. flage of life from the beginning of the world. ^^• An innate defire of felf-approbation is undoubt-' edly a part of the human conftitution. It is a povi^erful fpur to worthy conduft, and is in- tended as fuch by the Author of our being. A man cannot be eafy or happy, unlefs this defire be in fome meafure gratihed. While he conceives himfelf worthlefs and bafe, he can relilh no enjoyment. The humiliating morti- fying fentiment mufl be removed, and this na- tural defire of felf-approbation will either pro^ duce a noble effort to acquire real worth, which is its proper direftion, or it will lead into fome of thofe arts of felf-deceit, which create a falfe opinion of worth. A caflle builder in the fiflitious fcenes of his fancy, will figure, not according to his real character, but according to the highefl opinion he has been able to form of himfelf, and per- haps far beyond that opinion. For in tihofe imaginary confli£ls the paflions eafily yield to reafon, and a man exerts the noblefl efforts of virtue and magnanimity, with the fame eafe, as, in his dreams, he flies through the air, or plunges to the bottom of the ocean. The romantic fcenes of fancy are mofl com- monly the occupation of young minds, not yet fo deeply engaged in life as to have their thoughts taken up by its real cares and bufi- nefs. Thofe adive powers of the mind, which are mod luxuriant by conftitution, or have been moft cherifhed by education, impatient to ex- ert themfelves, hurry the thought into fcenes that give them play ; and the boy commences in imagination, according to the bent of his Vol. II. F mind, 66 ESSAY IV. CHAP, mind, a general or a ftatefman, a poet or an ^^J^^^ orator. When the fair ones become caftle builders,: they ufe different materials ; and while the young foldier is carried into the field of Mars, where he pierces the thickeft fquadrons of the enemy, defpifing death in all its forms, the gay and lovely nymph, whofe heart has never felt the tender pafTion, is tranfported into a- brilliant aifembly, where Ihe draws the atten- tion of every eye, and makes an impreflion on the nobleft heart. But no fooner has Cupid's atrow found its way into her own heart, than the whole fcenery of her imagination is changed. Balls and affemblies have now no charms. Woods and groves, the flowery bank, and the cryftal foun- tain, are the fcenes fhe frequents in imagina- tion. She becomes an Arcadian fhepherdefs, feeding her flock befide that of her Strephon, and wants no more to complete her happinefs. In a few years the love-fick maid is trans- formed into the folicitous mother. Her fmi- ling offspring play around her. She views them with a parents eye. Her imagina- tion immediately raifes them to manhood, and brings them forth upon the flage of life. One Ion makes a figure in the army, another Ihines ^t the bar ; her daughters are happily difpofed of in marriage, and bring new alliances to the family. Her childrens children rife up before her, and venerate her gray hairs. Thus the fpontaneous fallies of fancy are as yarious as the cares and fears, the defires and hopes, of man. ^licqiiid agunt homines^ voium, timor, tray voluptas, Gaudla-i difcurfiis : TheCc Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. Gy Thefe fill up the fcenes of fancy, as well as the CHAP, page of the Satyrifi:. Whatever polTefles the ^^• heart makes occafional excurfions into the ~ imagination, and ads fuch fcenes -upon that theatre as are agreeable to the prevailing paffi- on. The man of traffic, who has committed a rich cargo to the inconftant ocean, follows it in his thought ; and, according as his hopes or his fears prevail, he is haunted with ftorms, and rocks, and fhipwreck ; or he makes a hap- py and a lucrative voyage ; and before his vefl'el has loft fight of land, he has difpofed of the profit which fhe is to bring at her return. The Poet is carried into the Elyfian fields, where he converfes with the ghofts of Homer and Orpheus. The Philofopher makes a tour through the planetary fyftem, or goes down to the centre of the earth, and examines its various (Irata. In the devout man likewife, the great objefts that poflefs his heart often play in his imagination ; fometimes he is tranf- ported to the regions of the blefled, from whence he looks down with pity upon the folly and the pageantry of human life ; or he prof- trates himfelf before the throne of the Moft High with devout veneration ; or he converfes with celeftial fpirits about the natural and mo- ral kingdom of God, which he now fees only by a faint light, but hopes hereafter to view with a fteadier and brighter ray. In perfons come to maturity, there is even in thefe fpontaneousfallies of fancy, fome arrange- ment of thought ; and I conceive that it will be readily allowed, that in thofe who have the greateft ftock of knowledge, and the beft na- tural parts, even the fpontaneous miovements of fancy will be the moil: regular and connected. F 2 They 68 ' ESSAY IV. CHAP- They have an order, connexion, and unity, ^^' by which they are no lefs diftinguiflied from ^"""""^ the dreams of one afleep, or the ravings of one delirious on the one hand, than from the fi- nifhed productions of art on the other. How is this regular arrangement brought about ? It has all the marks of judgment and reafon, yet it feems to go before judgment, and to fpring forth fpontaneoufly. Shall we believe with Leibnitz, that the mind was originally formed like a watch wound up ; and that all its thoughts, purpofes, paffi- ons, and adions, are effeded by the gradual evolution of the original fpring of the machine, and fucceed each other in order, as neceffarily , as the motions and pulfations of a watch ? If a child of three or four years, were put to account for the phsenomena of a watch, he would conceive that there is a little man with- in the watch, or fome other little animal, that beats continually, and produces the motion. Whether the hypothecs of this young Philofo- pher in turning the watch fpring into a man, or that of the German Philofopher in turning a man into a watch fpring, be the moft ration- al, feems hard to determine. To account for the regularity of our firfl thoughts, from motions of animal fpirits, vi- brations of nerves, attradions of ideas, or from any other unthinking caufe, whether * mechanical or contingent, feems equally irra- tional. If we be not able to diftinguifli the ftrongefl marks of thought and defign from the effects of mechanifm or contingency, the confequence will be very melancholy : For it muft neceffarily follow, that we have no evidence of thought in any Of the Train of Thought In the Mind. 69 any of our fellow men, nay that we have noC HAP. evidence of thought or defign in the flrudure ^'^■ and government of the univerfe. If a good ^ ^ period or fentence was ever produced without having had any judgment previoufly employed about it, why not an Iliad or Eneid ? They differ only in lefs and more ; and we fhould do injuftice to the Philofopher of Laputa, in laughing at his proje£l of making poems by the turning of a wheel, if a concurrence of unthinking caufes may produce a rational train of thought. It is, therefore, in itfelf highly probable, to fay no more, that whatfoever is regular and rational in a train of thought, which prefents itfelf fpontaneoufly to a man's fancy, without any fludy, is a copy of what had been before compofed by his own rational powers, or thofe of fome other perfon. We certainly judge fo in fnnilar cafes. Thus, in a book 1 find a train of thinking, which has the marks of knowledge and judgment. I afk how it Vv'as produced ? It is printed in a book. This does not fatisfy me, becaufe the book has no knowledge nor reafon. 1 am told that a printer printed it, and a compofitor fet the types. Neither does this fatisfy me. Thefe caufes perhaps knew very little of the fubject. There mud be a prior caufe of the compofiti- 011. It was printed from a manufcript. True. But the manufcript is as ignorant as the printed book. The manufcript was written or dicta- ted by a man of knowledge and judgment. This, and this only, will fatisfy a man of com- mon underftanding ; and it appears to him extremely ridiculous to believe that fuch a train of thinking could originally be produced by any caufe that neither reafons nor thinks. Whether ESSAY IV. Whether fuch a train of thinking be printed in a book, or printed, fo to fpeak, in his mind, and iffue fpontaneoufly from his fancy, it mufh have been compofed with judgment by himfelf, or by fome other rational being. This, I think, will be confirmed by tracing the progrefs of the human fancy as far back as we are able. We have not the means of knowing how the fancy is employed in infants. Their time is divided between the employment of their fenfes and found fieep : So that there is little time left for imagination, and the materials it has to work upon are probably very fcanty. A few days after they are born, fometimes a few hours, we fee them fmile in their fleep. But what they fmile at is not eafy to guefs ; for they do not fmile at any thing they fee, when awake, for fome months after they are born. It is likewife common to fee them move their lips in fleep, as if they were fucking. Thefe things feem to difcover fome working of the imagination; but there isno reafon to think that there is any regular train of thought in the mind of infants. By a regular train of thought, I mean that which has a beginning, a middle, and an end, an arrangement of its parts, according to fome rule, or with fome intention. Thus, the conception of a dcfign, and of the means of executing it ; the conception of a whole, and the number and order of the parts. Thefe are inftances of the mofl fimple trains of thought that can be called regular. Man has undoubtedly a power (whether we call it tafle or judgment, is not of any confe- quence in the prefent argument) whereby he diftinguiihes Of the Train of Thought m the Mind. 71 diflingulfhes between a compofition, and a^HAP. heap of materials ; between a houfe, for in- ^^.^^ fiance, and a heap of ftones ; between a fen- tence and a heap of words ; between a picture, and a heap of colours. It does not appear to me that children have any regular trains of thought until this power begins to operate. Thofe who are born fuch idiots as never to fhew any figns of this power, fliow as little any figns of regularity of thought. It feems, there- fore, that this power is conneded with all re- gular trains of thought, and may be the caufc of them. Such trains of thought difcover themfelves in ■children about two years of age. They can then give attention to the operations of older children in making tiieir little houfes, and ihips, and other fuch things, in imitation of the works of men. They are then capable of underflanding a little of language, Vvhich fliews •both a regular train of thinking, and fome degree of abftra6lion. I think we may per- .ceive a diftindion between the faculties of children of two or three years of age, and thofe of the moft fagacious brutes. They can then perceive defign and regularity in the works of others, efpecially of older children ; their little minds are fired with the difcovery ; they are €ager to imitate it, and never at reft till they •can exhibit fomething of the fame kind. When a child firft learns by imitation to do fomething that requires defign, how does he exult ! Pythagoras was not more happy in the difcovery of his famous theorem. He feems then firft to reflect upon himfelf, and to fwell with felf-cfteem. His eyes fparkle. He is impatient fo fliew his performance to all about 72 ESSAY IV. CHAP, about him, and thinks himfelf entitled to their ^^- applaufe. lie is applauded by all, and feels the fame emotion from this applaufe, as a Ro- man Conful did from a triumph. He has now a confcioufnefs of fome worth in himfelf. He afllimes a fuperiority over thofe who are not fo wife ; and pays refpeft to thofe who are wifer than himfelf. He attempts fomething elfe, and is every day reaping new laurels. As children grow up, they are delighted with tales, with childifn games, with defigns and ftratagems : Every thing of this kind ftores the fancy with a new regular train of thought, which becomes familiar by repetition, ib that one part draws the whole after it in the imagination. The imagination of a child, like the hand of a painter, is long employed in copying the works of others, before it attempts any inven- tion of its own. The power of invention is not -yet brought forth, but it is coming forv/ard, and, like the bud of a tree,- is ready to burfl its integuments, when fome accident aids its eruption. There is no pov^'cr of the underflanding that gives fo much pleafure to the owner as that of invention ; whether it be employed in mechanics, in fcience, in the condud: of life, in poetry, in wit, or in the fine arts. One who is confcious of it, acquires thereby a worth and importance in his own eye which he had not before. He looks upon himfelf as one who formerly lived upon the bounty and gratu- ity of others, but who has now acquired fome property of his own. When this power begins to be felt in the young mind, it has the grace of novelty added to its other charms, and, like Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 73 like the youngeft child qf the family, is caref- C H A F, fed beyond all the reft. ^^• We may be fure, therefore, that as foon as children are coiifcious of this power, they will cxercife it in fuch ways as are fuited to their age, and to the objeds they are employed about. This gives rife to innumerable new aflbciations, and regular trains of thought, which make the deeper imprefTion upon the mind, as they are its exclufive property. I am aware that the power of invention is diftributed among men more unequally than almoft any other. When it is able to produce any thing that is interefting to mankind, we call it genius ; a talent which is the lot of very few. But there is perhaps a lower kind, or lower degree of invention that is more com- mon. However this may be, it muft be al- lowed, that the power of invention in thofe who have it, will produce many new regular trains of thought ; and thefe being exprelTed in works of art, in writing, or in difcourfe, will be copied by others. Thus I conceive the minds of children, as foon as they have judgment to diftinguifh what is regular, orderly, and connected, from a mere medley of thought, are furnilhed with regular trains of thinking by thefe means. Firji and chiefly, by copying what they fee in the works and in the difcourfe of others. Man is the moft imitative of all animals ; he not only imitates with intention, and purpofe- ly, what he thinks has any grace or beauty, but even without intention, he is led by a kind of inftinft, which it is difficult to refift, into the modes of fpeaking, thinking, and a£ling, which he has been accuftomed to fee in 74 E S S A Y IV. C H A P. in his early years. The more children fee of ^' what is regular and beautiful in what is pre- fented to them, the more they are led to ob- ferve and to imitate it. This is the chief part of their ftook, and defcends to them by a kind of tradition from thofe who came before them ; and we fhall find, that the fancy of moft men is furnilhed from thofe they have conveffed with, as well as their religion, language, and manners. Secondly^ By the additions or innovations that are properly their own, thefe will be grea- ter or lefs, in proportion to their ftudy and invention ; but in the bulk of mankind are not very confid^rable. Every profellion, and every rank in life, has a manner of thinking, and turn of fancy that is proper to it ; by which it is charaderifed in comedies and works of humour. The bulk of men of the fame nation, of the fame rank, and of the fame occupation, are call as it were in the fame mould. This mould itfelf changes gradually, but flowly, by new inven- tions, by intercourfe with ftrangers, or by other accidents. The condition of man requires a longer in- fancy and youth than that of other animals ; for this reafon among others, that almofl every ftation in civil fociety requires a multitude of regular trains of thought, to be not only ac- quired, but to be made fo familiar by frequent repetition, as to prefent themfelves fponta- neoufly, when there is occafion for them. The imagination even of men of good parts never ferves them readily but in things where- in it has been much exercifed. A Minifter of State holds a conference with a foreign Am- balfador. Of the Train of Thought m the Mind. JS baflador, with no greater emotion than a Pro- C H A. P feffor in a college preleQs to his audience. The imagination of each prefents to him what the occafion requires to be faid, and how. Let them change places, and both would find themfelves at a lofs. The habits which the human mind is capa- ble of acquiring by exercife are wonderful in many inftances ; in none more wonderful, than in that verfatility of imagination which a well bred man acquires, by being much exercifed in the various fcenes of life. In the morning he vifits a friend in affliftion. Here his ima- gination brings forth from its flore every topic of confolation ; every thing that is agreeable to the laws of friendfhip and fympathy, and nothing that is not fo. From thence he drives to the Minifler's levee, where imagination readily fuggefts what is proper to be faid or replied to every man, and in what manner, ac- cording to the degree ^of acquaintance or fami- liarity, of rank or dependence, of oppofition or occurrence of interefts, of confidence or diftruft, that is between them. Nor does all this employment hinder him from carrying on fome defign with much artifice, and endea- vouring to penetrate into the views of others through the clofeft difguifes. From the levee he goes to the Houfe of Cpmmons-. and fpeaks upon the affairs of the nation ; from thence to a ball or afl'embly, and entertains the ladies. His imagination puts on the friend, the cour- tier, the patriot, the fine gentleman, with more eafe than we put off one fuit and put on ano- ther. This is the effect of training and exercife. For a man of equal parts and knowledge, but unac- J6 E S S A Y IV. CHAP, unaccuftomed to thofe fcenes of public life, is ^^ quite difconcerted when firft brought into ^^'^ them. His thoughts are put to flight, and he cannot rally them. There are feats of imagination to be learned by application and practice, as wonderful as the feats of balancers and rope-dancers, and often as ufelefs. "V\ hen a man can make a hundred verfes ftanding on one foot, or play three or four [rames at chefs at the fame time without feeing the board, it is probable he hath fpent his life in acquiring fuch a feat. However, fuch un- ufual phssnomena fhew what habits of imagi- nation may be acquired. When fuch habits are acquired and perfect- ed, they are exercifed without any laborious effort ; like the habit of playing upon an in- flrument of mufic. There are innumerable motions of the fingers upon the flops or keys, which muft be directed in one particular train or fuccellion. There is only one arrangement of thofe motions that is right, while there are ten thoufand that are wrong, and would fpoil the mufic. The Mufician thinks not in the leaJx of the arrangement of thofe motions ; he has a diriincl idea of the tune, and wills to play it. The motions of the fingers arrange hemfelves, fo as to anfwcr his intention. In like manner, when a man fpeaks upon a fubjeiSt with which he is acquainted, there is a certain arrangement of iiis thoughts and words neceffary to make his difcourfe fenfible, per- tinent, and grammatical. In every fentence, there are more rules of grammar, logic, and rhetoric, that may be tranfgreffed, than there are words and letters. He fpeaks without thinking Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 7^ thinking of any of thofe rules, and yet obferves^ H \ P, them all, as if they were all in his eye. This is a habit fo fimilar to that of a player on an inftrument, that I think both mufl be G:ot in the fame way, that is, by much praftice, and the power of habit. When a man fpeaks well and methodically upon a fubject without ftudy, and with perfed: eafe, I believe we may take it for granted that his thoughts run in a beaten track. There is a mould in his mind, which has been formed by much pradice, or by ftudy, for this very fubje£t, or for fome other fo fimilar and ana- logous, that his difcourfe falls into this mould with eafe, and takes its form from it. Hitherto we have confidered the operations of fancy that are either fpontaiieous, or at leaft require no laborious effort to guide and direct them, and have endeavoured to account for that degree of regularity and arrangement which is found even in them. The natural powers of judgment and invention, the plea- fure that always attends the exercife of thofe powers, the means we have of improvinp- them by imitation of others, and the effed: of prac- tice and habits, feems to me fufficiently to ac- count for this phasnomenon, without fuppofing any unaccountable attradions of ideas by which they arrange themfelves. But we are able to dired our thoughts in a certain courfe fo as to perform a deflined tafk. Every work of art has its model framed in the imagination. Here the Ihad of Homer, the RepubUc of Plato, the Principia of New- ton, were fabricated. Shall we beheve, that , thofe works took the form in which they now appear 78 E S S A Y IV. P. appear of themfelves? That the fentiments, the manners, and the paflions arranged them- felves at once in the mind of Homer, fo as to form the Iliad? Was there no more effort in the compofition, than there is in telling a well- known tale, or fmging a favourite fong ? This cannot be believed. Granting that fome happy thought firfl; fug- gelfed the defign of fmging the v^rath of Achilles; yet, furely, it was a matter of judgment and choice where the narration fhould begin, and where it fliould end. Granting that the fertility of the Poet's ima- gination fuggefled a variety of rich materials; was not judgment neceifary to leled what was proper, to rejett what was improper, to ar- range the materials into a juft compofition, and to adapt them to each other, and to the defign of the whole? No man can believe that Homer's ideas, merely by certain fympathies and antipathies, by certain attradions and repulfions inherent in their natures, arranged themfelves according to the moft perfect 'rules of Epic poetry; and Newton's, according to the rules of mathe- matical compofition. I fhould fooner believe that the Poet, after he invoked his Mufe, did nothing at all but liften to the fong of the goddefs. Poets indeed, and other artifls, muft make their works ap- pear natural; but nature is the perfection of art, and there can be no jufl imitation of na- ture without art : When the building is finifhed, the rubbifn, the fcaffolds, the tools and en- gines, are carried out of fight; but we know it could not have been reared without them. The Of the Train of Thought in the Mind. 79 The train of thinking, therefore, is capable^ HAP. of being guided and diredted, much in the ^^* fame manner as the horfe we ride. The horfe has his llrength, his agility, and his mettle in himfelf; he has been taught certain move- ments, and many ufeful habits that make him more fubfervient to our purpofes, and obedient to our will; but to accomplifh a journey, he muft be directed by the rider. In like manner fancy has its original powers, which are very different in different perfons ; it has likewife more regular motions, to which it has been trained by a long courfe of difci- pline and exercife; and by which it may extem- pore, and without much effort, produce things that have a confiderable degree of beauty, re- gularity, and defign. But the mod perfeft works of defign are ne- ver extemporary. Our firfl thoughts are re- viewed; we place them at a proper diftance; examine every part, and take a complex view of the whole : By our critical faculties, we perceive this part to be redundant, that defici- ent ; here is a want of nerves, there a want of delicacy; this is obfcure, that too diffufe; Things are marfhalled anew, according to a fecond and more deliberate judgment; what was deficient, is fupplied; what was diflocated, is put in joint; redundances are lopped off, and the whole poliflied. Though Poets of all artifts make the highefl claim to infpiration, yet if we believe Horace, a competent judge, no produdion in that art can have merit, which has not cofl fuch labour as this in the birth, VosOf So ESSAY IV. CHAP. VosOf Pompilius fatiguis, carmen reprehendite quod non Midta dies, et miilta litura coercuit, atque Pcrfedum decies non cajiigavit dd tingiiem. The conclufion I would draw from all that has been faid upon this fubjeft is, That every thing that is regular iii that train of thoughtj v/hich we call fancy or imagination, from the little defigns and reveries of children, to the grandefl produftions of human genius, was originally the offspring of judgment or tafte, applied with fome effort greater or lefs. What one perfon compofed with art and judgment, is imitated by another with great eafe. What a man himfelf at lirft compofed with pains, becomes by habit fo familiar, as to offer itfelf fpontaneoufly to his fancy afterwards: But no- thing that is regular, was ever at firft conceived, without defign, attention, and care. I fhall now make a few refledions upon a theory which has been applied to account for this fucceffive train of thought in the mind. It was hinted by Mr. Hobbes, but has drawn more attention fmce it was diftindly explained by Mr. Hume. That author thinks that the train of thought in the mind is owing to a kind of attradtion which ideas have for other ideas that bear cer- tain relations to them. He thinks the complex ideas, which are the common fubjefts of our thoughts and reafoning, are owing to the fame caufe. The relations which produce this at- traction of ideas, he thinks, are thefe three only, to wit, caufation, contiguity in time or place, and fimilitude. He afferts that thefe are the only general principles that unite ideas. And having, in another place, occafion to take ©/■ the Train of Thought in the Mind, ' 8i take notice of contrariety as a principle of con-C HAP, ne£l:ion among ideas, in order to reconcile this ^^• to his fyftem, he tells us gravely, that contra- " ^ riety may perhaps be confidered as a mixture of caufation and refemblance. That ideas which have any of thefe three relations do mu- tually attrafl: each other, fo that one of them being prefented to the fancy, the other is drawn along with it, this he feems to think an origi- nal property of the mind, or rather of the ideas, and therefore inexplicable. Firji, I obferve with regard to this theory, that although it is true that the thought of any objed is apt to lead us to the thought of its caufe or effect, of things contiguous to it in time or place, or of things refembling it, yet this enumeration of the relations of things which are apt to lead us from one obje6; to another, is very inaccurate. The enumeration is too large upon his own principles ; but it is by far too fcanty in reality. Caufation, according to his philofophy, implies nothing more than a conllant conjundion ob- fer-^d between the caufe and the effect, and therefore contiguity muft include caufation, and his three principles of attraftion are re- duced to two. But when we take all the three, the enume^ ration is in reality very incomplete. Every relation of things has a tendency, moreorlefs, to lead the thought, in a thinking mind, from, one to the other; and not only every relation, but every kind of contrariety and oppofition. "What Mr. Hume fays, that contrariety may perhaps be confidered as a mixture " of caufa- tion and refemblance," I can as little comprC" Vol. II. G bend 82 ESSAY IV.- C H A P.hend as if he had faid that figure may perhaps ^^- be confidered as a mixture of colour and '-^■'^''^ found. Our thoughts pafs eafily from the end to the means; from any truth to the evidence on which it is founded, the confequences that may be drawn from it, or the ufe that may be made of it. From a part we are eafily led to think of the whole, from a fubjed; to its qualities, or from things related to the relation. Such tran- fitions in thinking muft have been made thou- fands of times by every man who thinks and reafons, and thereby become, as it were, beat- en tracks for the imagination. Not only the relations of objecls to each other influence our train of thinking, but the relation they bear to the prefent temper and difpofition of the mind ; their relation to the habits we have acquired, whether moral or intelleclual ; to the company we have kept, and to the bufinefs in which we have been chiefly employed. The fame event will fuggeft very different refledions to different perfons, and to the fame perfon at different times, according as he is in good or bad humour, as he is live- ly or dull, angry or pleafed, melancholy or cheerful. Lord Kaimes, in his Elements of Criticifm, and Dr. Gerard in his Effay on Genius, have given a much fuller and juffer enumera- tion of the caufes that influence our train of thinking, and I have nothing to add to what they have faid on this fubjed. Secondly, Let us confider how far this attrac- tion of ideas muft be refolved into original qualities of human nature. ibe^ Of the Train cf Thought in the Mind. 83 I believe the original principles of the mindjC H A P. of which we can give no account, but that ^^'^• fuch is our conftitution, are more in number' than is commonly thought. But we ought not to multiply them without neceffity. That trains of thinking, which by frequent repetition have become familiar, fhould fpon- taneoufly offer themfelves to our fancy, feems to require no other original quality but the power of habit. In all rational thinking, and in all rational difcourfe, whether ferious or facetious, the thought mud have fome relation to what v/ent before. Every man, therefore, from the dawn of reafon, mufl have been accuftomed to a train of related objects. Thefe pleafe the un- derftanding, and by cuftom become like beat- en tracks which invite the traveller. As far as it is in our power to give a dire6lion to our thoughts, which it is undoubtedly in a great degree, they will be direfted by the ac- tive principles common to men, by our appe- tites, our paffions, our affeftions, our reafon, and confcience. And that the trains of think- ing in our minds are chiefly governed by thefe^ according as one or another prevails at the time, every man will find in his experience. If the mind is at any time vacant frorri every pafTion and defire, there are flill fome objects that are more acceptable to us than others. The facetious man is pleafed with furprifmg funilitudes or contrafts; the Philofopher with the relations of things that are fubfervlent to reafoning; the merchant with what tends to profit ; and the Politician with what may mend the ftate. G 2 A good 84 E S S A Y IV. A good writer of comedy or romance can feign a train of thinking for any of the perfons of his fable, which appears very natural, and is approved by the bed judges. Now, what is it that entitles fuch a fidion to approbation? Is it that the author has given a nice attention to the relations of caufation, contiguity, and fimihtude in the ideas ? This furely is the lead part of its merit. But the chief part confifts in this, that it correfponds perfectly with the general character, the rank, the habits, the prefent fituation and paffions of the perfon. If this be a juft way of judging in criticifm, it follows neceffarily, that the circumflances laft mentioned have the chief influence in fuggeft- ing our trains of thought. It cannot be denied, that the ftate of the body has an influence upon our imagination, according as a man is fober or drunk, as he is fatigued or refrefhed. Crudities and indigefti- on are faid to give uneafy dreams, and have probably a like effect upon the waking thoughts. Opium gives to fome perfons pleafmg dreams, and pleafmg imaginations when awake, and to others fuch as are horrible and dhlreflino:. Thefe influences of the body upon the mmd can only be known by experience, and I be- lieve we can give no account of them. Nor can we, perhaps, give any reafon why we mud think without ceafmg while we are awake. I believe we are likcwife originally difpofed, in imagination, to pafs from any one objeft of thought to others that are contiguous to it in time or place. This, I think, may be obferved in brutes and in idiots, as well as in children, before any habit can be acquired that nivTht account for it. The fight of an object Of the Train 0/ Thought in the Mind. 85 IS apt to fuggefl to the imagination what has CHAP, been feen or felt in conjundion with it, even • when the memory of that conjundion is gone. Such conjundions of things influence not only the imagination, but the belief and the paffions, efpecially in children and in brutes ; and perhaps all that we call memory in brutes is fomething of this kind. They expeft events in the fame order and fucceffion in which they happened before ; and by this expectation, their actions and paffions, as well as their thoughts, are regulated. A horfe takes fright at the place where fome objeft frighted him before. We are apt to conclude from this, that he remembers the former acci- dent. But perhaps there is only an aifociation formed in his mind between the place and the paffion of fear, without any diftind remem- brance. Mr. Locke has given us a very good chap- ter upon the affociation of ideas ; and by the examples he has given to illuftrate this doftrine, I think it appears that very ftrong affociations may be formed at once ; not of ideas to ideas only, but of ideas to paffions and emotions ; and that ftrong affociations are never formed at once, but when accompanied by fome ftrong * paffion or emotion, I believe this muft be re- folved into the conftitution of our nature. Mr. Hume's opinion, that the complex Ideas, which are the common objefts of dif- courfe and reafoning, are formed by thofe ori- ginal attradions of ideas, to which he afcribes the train of thoughts in the mind, will come under confideration in another place. To put an end to our remarks upon this theo- ry of Mr. Hume, I think he has real merit in bringing 85 E S S A Y IV. CHAP, bringing this curious fubjeft under the view of ^- Philoiophers, and carrying it a certain length. But I fee nothing in this theory that fliould hinder us to conclude, that every thing in the trains of our thought, which bears the marks of judgment and reafon, has been the product of judgment and reafon previouily exercifed, either by the perfon himfelf, at that or fome former time, or by fome other perfon. The attrad:ion of ideas will be the fame in a man's fccond thoughts upon any fubjeft as in his firft. Or if fome change in his circumftances, or in the objefts about him, fhould make any change in the attractions of his ideas, it is an equal chance whether the fecond be better than the iirft, or whether they be worfe. But it is cer- tain that every man of judgment and tafle will, upon a review, correct that train of thought which firfl prefented itfel£ If the attradions of ideas are the fole caufes of the regular ar- rangement^of thought in the fancy, there is no ufe for judgment or tafte in any compofition, nor indeed any room for their operation. There are other reflexions of a more practi- cal nature, and of higher importance, to which this fubject leads. I believe it will be allowed by every man, • that our happinefs or mifery in life, that our improvement in any art or fcience which We profefs, and that our improvement in real vir- tue and goodnefs, depend in a very great de- greee on the train of thinking, that occupies the mind both in our vacant and in our more ferious hours. As far therefore as the directi- on of our thoughts is in our power, (and that it is fo in a great meafure, cannot be doubted) it is of the lafl iuiportance to give them that direction Of the Train o/" Thought in the Mind. S; diredion which is mofl fubfervient to thofe^ HAP. valuable purpofes. What employment can he have worthy of a man, whofe imagination is occupied only about things low and bafe, and grovels in a narrow field of mean unanimating and uninterefling objefts, infenfible to thofe finer and more de- licate fentiments, and blind to thofe more en- larged and nobler views which elevate the foul, and make it confcious of its dignity. How different from him, whofe imagination, like an eagle in her flight, takes a wide prof- ped, and obferves whatever it prefents, that its new or beautiful, grand or important, whofe rapid wing varies the fcene every moment, carrying him fometimes through the fairy re- gions of wit and fancy, fometimes through the more regular and fober \yalks of fcience and philofophy. The various objects which he furveys, ac- cording to their different degrees of beauty and dignity, raife in him the lively and agreeable emotions of tafte. Illuflrious human charac- ters, as they pafs in review, clothed with their moral qualities, touch his heart ftill more deep- ly. They not only awaken the fenfe of beauty, but excite the fentiment of approbation, and kindle the glow of virtue. While he views what is truly great and glo- rious in human conduct, his foul catches the divine flame, and burns with defire to emulate what it admires. The human imagination is an ample thea- tre, upon which every thing in human life, good or bad, great or mean, laudable or bafe, is aded, In 88 ESSAY IV. CHAP. In children, and in fome frivolous minds. It IS a mere toy-fhop. And in feme, who ex- ^■'''^'^*^ ercife their memory without their judgment, its furniture is made up of old fcraps of know- ledge, that are thread-bare and worn-out. In fome, this theatre is often occupied by ghaflly fuperftition, with all her train of Gor- go?is, and Hydras, and Cb'wieras dire. Some- times it is haunted with all the infernal de- mons, and made the forge of plots, and ra- pine, and murder. Here every thing that is black and deteftable is firfl contrived, and a thoufand wicked defigns conceived that are never executed. Here, too, the Furies aft their part, taking a fevere though fecret ven- geance upon the felf-condemned criminal. How happy is tliat mind, in which the light of real knowledge difpels the phantoms of fu- perftition : In which the belief and reverence of a perfect all-governing Mind cafts out all fear but the fear of a£ling wrong : In which ferenity and cheerfulnefs, innocence, huma- nity, and candour, guard the imagination againft the entrance of every unhallowed intru- der, and invite more amiable and worthier guefts to dwell ! There lliall the Mufes, the Graces, and the Virtues, fix their abode ; for every thing that is great and worthy in human conduQ: muft have been conceived in the imagination before it was brought into adt. And many great and good defigns have been formed there, which, for want of power and opportunity, have pro- ved abortive. The man, whofe imagination is occupied by thefe guefts, muft be wife j he muft be good J and he muft be happy. ESSAY 89 »»Hm»juM j]i«Mi«m m .miKniM^Miy Q n A. P» I. E S S A Y V, "^ OF ABSTRACTION, CHAP. I. Of General Words* THE words we ufe in language are either general words, or proper names. Pro- per names are intended to fignify one individual only. Such are the names of men, kingdoms, provinces, cities, rivers, and of every other crea- ture of God, or work of man, which we chufe to diftinguifh from all others of the kind, by a name appropriated to it. All the other words of language are general words, not appropriated to fignify any one individual thing, but equally related to many. Under general words therefore, I compre- hend not only thofe which Logicians call ge- neral terms, that is, fuch general words as may make the fubjedl or the predicate of a pro- pofition, but likewife their auxiliaries or ac- ceflbries, as the learned Mr. Harris calls them ; fuch as prepofitions, conjunctions, ar- ticles, which are all general words, though they cannot properly be called general terms. In every language, rude or polifhed, gene- ral words make the greatefl part, and proper names the lead. Grammarians have reduced all words to eight or nine claffes, which are called 90 E S S A Y V. C H A P.called parts of fpeech. Of thefe there is only ^j^ one, to wit, that of noiins^ wherein proper names are found. All pronouns, verbs, parti" tic'iples^ adverbs, articles, prepofitions, conjunc- tions, and interjeclions, are general words. Of nouns, ail adjectives are general words, and the greater 'part oi fubjiantivcs. Every fubftantive that has a plural number, is a general word ; for no proper name can have a plural number, becaufe it fignifies only one individual. In all the fifteen books of Euclid's Elements, there is not one word that is not general ; and the fame may be faid of many large volumes. At the fame time it muft be acknowledge^, that all the objects we perceive are individuals. Every object of fenfe, of memory, or of con- fcioufnefs, is an individual objetl. All the good things we enjoy or defire, and all the evils we feel or fear, muft come from individu- als ; and I think we may venture to fay, that every creature which God has made in the heavens above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth, is an individual. How comes it to pafs then, that in all lan- guages general words make the greateft part of the language, and proper names but a very fmall and inconfiderable part of it ? This feeming ftrange phsenomenon may, I think, be eafily accounted for by the following obfervations. Firji, Though there be a few individuals that are obvious to the notice of all men, and therefore have proper names in all languages ; iuch as the fun and moon, the earth and fea ; yet the greateft part of the things to which we think fit to give proper names are local ; known perhaps to u village or to a neighbourhood^ buti OF GENERAL WORDS. 91 l^ut unknown to the greater part of thofe who C H A P; fpeak the fame language, and to all the reft of ^■ mankind. The names of fuch things being' confined to a corner, and having no names anfwering to them in other languages, are not accounted a part of the language, any more than the cuftoms of a particular hamJet are ac- counted part of the law of the nation. For this reafon, there are but few proper names that belong to a language. It is next to be confidered why there piufl be many ge- neral words in every language. Secondly^ It may be obferved, that every in- dividual obje£t that falls within our view has various attributes ; and it is by them that it becomes ufeful or hurtful to us : We know not the effence of any individual objeft ; all the knowledge we can attain of it, is the knowledge of its attributes ; its quantity, its various qualities, its various relations to other things, its place, its fituation, and motions. It is by fuch attributes of things only that we can communicate our knowledge of them to others : By their attributes, our hopes or fears from them are regulated ; and it is only by attention to their attributes that we can make them fubfervient to our ends ; and therefore \ve give names to fuch attributes. Now all attributes muft from their nature be exprefifed by general words, and are fo expreffi- cd in all languages. In the ancient philofo^ phy, attributes in general v/ere called by two names which exprefs their nature. They were called univerfalsj becaufe they might belong equally to many individuals, and are not con- fined to one : They were alfo called predica- j^Ies, becaufe whatever is predicated, that is, affirmed 9» E S S A Y V. C H A P. affirmed or denied of one fubjed, may be, of more, and therefore is an univerfal, and ex^ ^'^'"^^''"^ preffed by a general word. A predicable there- fore fignifies the fame thing as an attribute, with this difference only, that the firfl: is La- tin, the laft Englifh. The attributes we find either in the creatures of God, or in the works of men, are common to many individuals : We either find it to be fo, or prefume it may be fo, and give them the fame name in every fubjeft to which they belong. There are not only attributes belonging to individual fubjefts, but there are likewife at- tributes of attributes, which may be called fe- condary attributes. Moft attributes are capa- ble of different degrees, and different modifi- cations, which mull be expreffed by general words. Thus it is an attribute of many bodies to be moved ; but motion may be in an endlefs va- riety of direftions. It may be quick or flow, reftilineal or curvilineal ; it may be equable, or accelerated, or retarded. As all attributes, therefore, whether pri- mary or fecondary, are expreffed by general words, it follows, that in every propofition we exprefs in language, what is affirmed or denied of the fubjed; of the propofition mufl be expreffed by general words : And that the fubjed: of the propofition may often be a ge- neral word, will appear from the next obfer- vation. Thirdly^ The fame faculties by which we diflinguifh the different attributes belonging to the fame fubje6t, and give names to them, en- ' able us likewife to obferve, that many fubjeds agree in certain attributes, while they differ in others. OF GENERAL WORDS. 93 others. By this means we are enabled to re-C H A P. duce individuals which are infinite, to a limi- ^' ted number of claffes, which are called kinds and forts ; and in the fcholaflic language, genera and /pedes. Obferving many individuals to agree in cer- tain attributes, we refer them all to one clafs, and give a name to the clafs : This name com- prehends in its fignification not one attribute only, but all the attributes which diflinguifli that clafs ; and by affirming this name of any individual, we affirm it to have all the attri- butes which charade rize the clafs : Thus men, dogs, horfes, elephants, are fo many different claffes of animals. In like manner we marfhal other fubftances, vegetable and in- animate, into claffes. Nor is it only fubftances that we thus form into claffes. We do the fame with regard to qualities, relations, aftions, affedions, paffi- ons, and all other things. When a clafs is very large, it is divided in- to fubordinate claffes in the fame manner. The higher clafs is called a genus or kind ; the low- er a fpecies or fort of the higher : Sometimes a fpecies is ftill fubdivided into fubordinate fpe- cies ; and this fubdivifion is carried on as far as is found convenient for the purpofe of lan- guage, or for the improvement of knowledge. In this diftribution of things into genera and fpecies, it is evident that the name of the fpe- cies comprehends more attributes than the name of the genus. The fpecies comprehends all that is in the genus, and thofe attributes likewife which diftinguifh that fpecies from others belonging to the fame genus ; and the more fubdivifions we make, the names of the lower c>4 E S S A Y V. CHAP, lower become ftill the more comprehcnfive m their fignihcation, but the lefs extenfive in their application to individuals. Hence it is an axiom in logic, that the more extenfive any general term is, it is the lefs comprehcnfive ; and on the contrary, the more comprehenfive, the lefs extenfive : Thus, in the follov\^ing feries of fubordinate general terms, animal, man. Frenchman, Parifian, every fubfequent term comprehends in its fig-i nification all that is in the preceding, and fomething more ; and every antecedent term extends to more individuals than the fubfe- quent. Such divifions and fubdivifions of things into genera and /pedes with general names, are not confined to the learned andpolifhed languages 5 they are found in thofe of the rudeft tribes of mankind : From which we learn, that the in- vention and the ufe of general words, both to lignify the attributes of things, and to fignify the genera and fpecies of things, is not a fubtilc invention of Philofophcrs, but an operation which all men perform by the light of common fenfe. Philofophcrs may fpeculate about this operation, and reduce it to canons and apho- rifms ; but men of common underftanding^ without knowing any thing of the philofophy of it, can put it in practice ; in like manner as they can fee objeds, and make good ufe of their eyes, although they know nothing of the ftrudure of the eye, or of the theory of vifion. Every genus, and every fpecies of things, may be either the fubjeft or the predicate of a proportion, nay of innumerable propofitions j for every attribute common to the genus or fpecies OF GENERAL WORDS. 9S:. fpecies may be affirmed of It , and the genus C H A P*' may be affirmed of every fpecies, and both ge- ^• nus and fpecies of every individual to which ^"'^^'^ it extends. Thus of man it may be affirmed, that he is an animal made up of body and mind ; that he is of few days, and full of trouble ; that he is capable of various improvements in arts, in knowledge, and in virtue. In a word, every thing common to the fpecies may be affirmed of man ; and of all fuch propofitions, which are innumerable, man is the fubjed. Again, of every nation and tribe, and of every individual of the human race that is, or was, or fliall be, it may be affirmed that they are men. In all fuch propofitions, which are innumerable, man is the predicate of the pro- pofition. We obferved above an extenfion and a comprehenfion in general terms ; and that in any fubdivifion of things the name of the low- eft fpecies is moft comprehenfive, and that of the higheft genus moft extenfive. I would now obferve, that, by means of fuch general terms, there is alfo an extenfion and compre- henfion of propofitions, which is one of the nobleft powers of language, and fits it for ex- preffing, with great eafe and expedition, the higheft attainments in knowledge, of which the human underftanding is capable. When the predicate is a genus or a fpecies^ the propofition is more or lefs comprehenfive, according as the predicate is. Thus, when I fay that this feal is gold, by this fingle propofi- tion, I affirm of it all the properties which that metal is known to have. When I fay of any man gS E S S A Y V. CHAP, man that he is a Mathematician, this appella- ^' tion comprehends all the attributes that belong ^^•'^''^^to him as an animal, as a man, and as one who has ftudied mathematics. When I lay that the orbit of the planet Mercury is an el- lipfis, I thereby affirm of that orbit all the pro- perties which Apollonius and other Geome- tricians have difcovered, or may difcover, of that fpecies of figure. Again, when the fubje£l: of a propofition is a genus or a fpecies, the propofition is more or iefs extenfive, according as the fubje6t is. Thus when I am taught, that the three angles of a plane triangle are equal to two right an- gles, this properly extends to every fpecies of plane triangle, and to every individual plane triangle that did, or does, or can exift. It is by means of fuch extenfive and com- prehenfive propofitions that human knowledge is condenfed, as it were, into a fize adapted to the capacity of the human mind, with great addition to its beauty, and without any dimi- nution of its diftindnefs and perfpicuity. General propofitions in fcience may be com- pared to the feed of a plant, which, according to fome Philofophers, has not only the whole future plant inclofed within it, but the feeds of that plant, and the plants that fhall fpring from them through all future generations. But the fimilitude falls Ihort in this refpeft, that time and accidents, not in our power, jnuft concur to difclofe the contents of the feed, and bring them into our view ; whereas the contents of a general propofition may be brought forth, ripened, and expofed to view at our pleafure, and in an inftant. Thus OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 97 Thus the wifdom of ages, and the moft fub-C HAP lime theorems of fcience, may be laid up, ^• like an Iliad in a nut-ihell, and tranfmitted to' future generations, and this noble purpofe of language can only be accomplifhcd, by means of general words annexed to the divifions and fubdivifions of things. What has been faid in this chapter, I think, is fufficient to fhew, that there can be no lan- guage, not fo much as a fmgle proportion, •without general words ; that they mufl make the greateft part of every language, and that it is by them only that language is fitted to cxprefs, with wonderful eafe and expedition, all the treafures of human wifdom and know- ledge. C H A P. II. Of general Conceptions, AS general words are fo neceflary in lan- guage, it is natural to conclude that there muft be general conceptions, of which they are the figns. Words are empty founds when they do not fignify the thoughts of the fpeaker ; and it is only from their fignification that they are de- nominated general. Every word that is fpo- ken, confidered merely as a found, is an in- dividual found. And it can only be called a. general word, becaufe that which it fignifies is general. Now, that which it fignifies, is conceived by the mind both of the fpeaker and hearer, if the word have a diftinft meaning, and be diftindly underftood. It is therefore Vol. II. H impolTiblc 9^ E S S A Y V, C H A P. in-jpoflible that words can have a general ftg- "' nihcation, unlefs there be conceptions in the mind of the fpeaker, and of the hearer, of things that are general. It is to fuch that I give the name of general conceptions : And it ought to be obferved, that they take this deno- mination, not from the ad of the mind in conceiving, which is an individual act, but from the object, or thing conceived, which is general. We are therefore here to confider whether \ve have fach general conceptions, and how they are formed. To begin with the conceptions exprefied by general terms, that is, by fuch general words as may be the fubjecl or the predicate of a pro- pofition. They are either attributes of things, or they are genera or /pedes of things. It is evident, with refped to all the indivi- duals we are acquainted with, that we have a more clear and diftincl conception of their at- tributes, than of the fubjeft to which thofe at- tributes belong. Take, for inftance, any individual body we have accefs to know, what conception do we form of it ? Every man may know this from his confcioufnefs. He will find that he con- ceives it as a thing that has length, breadth, and thicknefs, fuch a figure, and fuch a colour; that it is hard, or foft, or fluid ; that it has fuch qualities, and is fit for fuch purpofes. If it is a vegetable, he may know where it grew, what is the form of its leaves, and flower, and feed. If an animal, what are its natural in- (tinds, its manner of life, and of rearing its young : Of thefe attributes belonging to this individual, and numberlefs others, he may furely OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 99 furely have a diftln6t: conception ; and he willC HAP. find words in language by which he can clearly • ^^• and diftin6lly exprefs each of them. If we confider, in like manner, the concep- tion we form of any individual perfon of our acquaintance, we ihall find it to be made up of various attributes, which we afcribe to him ; fuch as, that he is the fon of fuch a man, the brother of fuch another, that he has fuch aa employment or office, has fuch a fortune, that he is tall or fhort, well or ill made, comely or ill favoured, young or old, married or unmar- ried ; to this we may add, his temper, his cha- racter, his abilities, and perhaps fome anec- dotes of his hiflory. Such is the conception we form of individual perfons of our acquaintance. By fuch attri- butes we defcribe them to thofe who know them not ; and by fuch attributes Hiftorians give us a conception of the perfonages of former times. Nor is it poffible to do it in any other way. All the diftinft knowledge we have or can attain of any individual, is the knowledge of its attributes : For we know not the effence of any individual. This feems to be beyond the reach of the human faculties. Now, every attribute is what the ancients called an univerfal. It is, or may be, common to various individuals. There is no attribute belonging to any creature of God which may not belong to others ; and, on this account, attributes, in all languages, are exprcfled by general words. It appears likewife, from every man's expe- rience, that he may have as clear and diftind: a conception of fuch attributes as we have H 2 named. ICO ESSAY V. C H AP . named, and of innumerable others, as he can ^^' have of any individual to which they belong. ^^~~' Indeed the attributes of individuals is all that we diftin£tly conceive about them. It is ■ true, we conceive a fubjeft to which the attri- butes belong; but of this fubjed, when its at- tributes are fet afide, we have but an obfcure and relative conception, whether it be body or mind. This was before obferved with regard to bo- dies, Effay II. chap. 19. to which we refer, • and it is no lefs evident with regard to minds. What is it we call a mind? It is a thinking, intelligent, aftive being. Granting that think- ing, intelligence, and aftivity, are attributes of mind, I want to know what the thing or be- ing is to which thefe attributes belong? To this queftion I can find no fatisfying anfwer. The attributes of mind, and particularly its opera- tions, we know clearly ; but of the thing itfelf we have only an obfcure notion. Nature teaches us, that thinking and reafon- ing are attributes, which cannot exifl: without a fubjed: but of that fubjed I believe the bed notion we can form implies little more than that it is the fubjed of fuch attributes. Whether other created beings may have the knowledge of the real eifence of created things, fo as to be able to deduce their attributes from their elTence and conftitution, or whether this be the prerogative of him who made them, we cannot tell; but it is a knowledge which feems to be quite beyond the reach of the hu- man faculties. We know the eflence of a triangle, and from that eiTence can deduce its properties. It is an univerfal, and might have been conceived by the OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. loi the human mind, though no individual triangle CHAP, had ever exifted. It has only what Mr. Locke ^^• calls a nominal eflence, which is exprefled in its definition. But every thing that exifts has a real eflence, which is above our comprehen- fion; and therefore we cannot deduce its pro- perties or attributes from its nature, as we do in the triangle. We mufl take a contrary road in the knowledge of God's works, and fatisfy ourfelves with their attributes as fads, and with the general convidion that there is a fubjed to which thofe attributes belong. Enough, I think, has been faid, to fhow, not only that we may have clear and diftind conceptions of attributes, but that they are the only things, with regard to individuals, of which we have a clear and diftind: conception. The other clafs of general terms are thofe that fignify the genera and fpecies into which we divide and fubdivide things. And if we be able to form diftind: conceptions of attri- butes, it cannot furely be denied that we may have diftincl conceptions of genera Tind fpecies j becaufe they are only collections of attributes which we conceive to exifl in a fubjeft, and to which we give a general name. If the attri- butes comprehended under that general name be diftindtly conceived, the thing meant by the name muft be diftinctly conceived. And the name may juftly be attributed to every in- dividual which has thofe attributes. Thus, I conceive diftinftly what it is to have wings, to be covered with feathers, to lay eggs. Suppofe then that we give the name of bird to every animal that has thefe three attributes. Here undoubtedly my conception of a bird is as diflinft as any notion of the attributes which are 102 ESSAY V. C H A P. are common to this fpecies : And if this be ad- "• mitted to be the definition of a bird, there is nothing I conceive more diftindtly. If I had never feen a bird, and can but be made to un- derftand the definition, I can eafily apply it to every individual of the fpecies, without dan- ger of miftake. When things are divided and fubdivided by men of fcience, and names given to the genera and fpecies^ thofe names are defined. Thus, the genera and fpecies of plants, and^of other natural bodies, are accurately defined by the writers in the various branches of natural hif- tory; fo that, to all future generations, the definition will convey a diflinft notion of the genus or fpecies defined. There are, without doubt, many words fig- nifying genera and fpecies of things, which have a meaning fomewhat vague and indiflind; fo that thofe who fpcak the fame language dp iiot always ufe them in the fame fenfe. But if we attend to the caufe of this indiftindnefs, we fhall find, that it is not owing to their being general terms, but to this, that there is no definition of them that has authority. Their meaning, therefore, has not been learn- ed by a definition, but by a kind of induftion, by obferving to what individuals they are ap- plied by thole who underitand the language. We learn by habit to ufe them as we fee others do, even when we have not a precife meaning annexed to them. A man may know, that to certain individuals they may be applied with propriety; but whether they can be applied to certain other individuals, he may be uncertain, either from want of good authorities, or from ' having OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 103 having contrary authorities, which leave himC HAP, in doubt. ^.Jt^ Thus, a man may know, that when he ap- pHes the name of beaft to a lion or a tyger, and the name of bird to an eagle or a turkey, he fpeaks properly. But whether a bat be a bird or a bead, he may be uncertain. If there was any accurate definition of a beaft and of a ^ bird, that was of fufficient authority, he could be at no lofs. It is faid to have been fometimes a matter of difpute, with regard to a monftrous birth of a woman, whether it was a man or not. Al- though this may be in reality a queftion about v the meaning of a word, it may be of import- ance, on account of the privileges which laws have annexed to the human character. To make fuch laws perfedly precife, the definition, of a man would be neceflary, which 1 believe Legiflators have feldom or never thought fit to give. It is, indeed, very difficult to fix a defi- nition of fo common a word, and the cafes wherein it would be of any ufe fo rarely occur, that perhaps it may be better, when they do occur, to leave them to the determination of a judge or of a jury, than to give a definition, which might be attended with unforefeen con= fequences. A genius or fpecies, being a colledion of at- tributes, conceived to exifl in one fubjedb, a definition is the only way to prevent any addi- tion or dirainuation of its ingredients in the conception of different perfons; and when there is no definition that can be appealed to as a llandard, the name will hardly retain the moft perfedprecifion ia its fignification. From 104 E S S A Y V. From what has been faid, I conceive it is evident, that the words which fignify genera and fpecies of things have often as precife and definite a fignification as any words whatfoever; and that when it is otherwife, their want of precifion is not owing to their being general words, but to other caufes. Having fliewn that we may have a perfeftly clear and diftind conception of the meaning of general terms, we may, I think, take it for granted, that the fame may be faid of other general words, fuch as prepofitions, conjunc- tions, articles. My defign at prefent being only to fliew, that we have general conceptions no lefs clear and diflind: than thofe of individu- als, it is fufficient for this purpofe, if this ap- pears with regard to the conceptions expreffed by general terms. To conceive the meaning of a general word, and to conceive that which it fignifies, is the fame thing. We conceive diltinclly the meaning of general terms, there- fore we conceive diftindly that which they fig- nify. But fuch terms do not fignify any indi- vidual, but what is common to many indivi- duals ; therefore we have a diflinft conception of things common to many individuals, that is, we have diflinft general conceptions. We muft here beware of the ambiguity of the word conception^ which fometimes fignifies the aft of the mind in conceiving, fometimes the thing conceived, which is the objed: of that aft. If the word be taken in the firft fenfe, I acknowledge that every aft of the mind is an individual aft ; the univerfality, therefore, is not in the aft of the mind, but in the objeft, or thing conceived. The thing conceived is an attribute common to many fubjefts, or it is a genus or fpecies common to many individuals. Suppofe OF GENERAL CONCEPTIONS. 105 Suppofe I conceive a triangle, that is, a C H A P. plain figure terminated by three right lines. ^^• He that underitands this definition diflindly has a diftindt conception of a triangle. But a trian- gle is not an individual ; it is a fpecies. The acl of my underftanding in conceiving it is an individual ad, and has a real exiflence ; but the thing conceived is general, and cannot ex- ift without other attributes, which are not in- cluded in the definition. Every triangle that really exifls muft have a certain length of fides and meafure of angles ; it muft have place and time. But the defini- tion of a triangle includes neither exiftence, nor any of thofe attributes ; and therefore they are not included in the conception of a triangle, which cannot be accurate if it comprehend more than the definition. Thus I think it appears to be evident, that we have general conceptions that are clear and diftind, both of attributes of things, and of genera and fpecies of things. CHAP. io6 ESSAY V. CHAP. IJI. 0/ general CHAP. Conceptions fo\ Objeds, III. nned by analyfing "TE arc next to confider the operations ^J of the underftanding, by which we arc enabled to form general conceptions. Thefe appear to me to be three ; firji^ The refolving or analyfing a fubjeft into its known attributes, and giving a name to each attribute, v.'hich name fhall fignify that attribute, and nothing more. Secondly y The obferving one or more fuch at- tributes to be common to many fubjev^s. The firft is by Philofophers called ahJlradion\ the fecond may be called generalifing\ but both are commonly included under the name of abjlraftion. It is difficult to fay which of them goes firft, or whether they are not fo clofely connected that neither can claim the Precedence. For on the one hand, to perceivt" an agreement between two or more objeds in the fame attribute, feems to require nothing more than to com- pare them together. A favage, upon feeing fnow and chalk, would find no difficulty in perceiving that they have the fame colour. Yet, on the other hand, it feems impoffible that he fnould oV'lervc this agreement without abltraction, th:it is, diflinguilhing in his con- ception the colour, wherein thofe two obje£ls agree, from the other qualities, wherein they difagree. It feenis therefore, that we cannot generalife without fome degree of abflradion j but I ap- prehend Conceptions formed, by Analyftng Objeds, 1 07 prehend we may abftrad without generalifmgrC H A P. For what hinders me from attending to the ^^^• whitenefs of the paper before me, without ap- plying that colour to any other object: The whitenefs of this individual objed is an abftrad conception, but not a general one, while ap- plied to one individual only. Thefe two ope- rations, however, are fubfervient to each other; for the more attributes we obferve and didinguilh in any one individual, the more agreements we fhall difcover between it and other individuals. A third operation of the underflanding, by which we form abftract conceptions, is the combining into one whole a certain number of thofe attributes of which we have formed ab- ftradt notions, and giving a name to that^com- bination. It is thus we form abftra6l notions of the genera and fpecics of things. Thefe three operations we (hall confider in order. With regard to abftraclion, ftridly fo called, I can perceive nothing in it that is difficult either to be underflood or pradifed. What can be more eafy than to diilinguifh the differ- ent attributes which we know to belong to a fubjeft? In a man, for inftance, to diflinguifh his fize, his complexion, his age, his fortune, his birth, his profeflion, and twenty other things that belong to him. To think and fpeak of thefe things with underftanding, is furely within the reach of every man endowed with the human faculties. There may be dift:in£tions that require nice difcernment, or an acquaintance with the fub- je£l that is not common. Thus, a critic in painting may difcern the flyle of Raphael or Titian, when another man could not. A lawyer io8 E S S A Y V. CHAP. lawyer may be acquainted with many diftinfti- , ^^- ons in crimes, and contracts, and aftions, which never occurred to a man who has not ftudied law. One man may excel another in the talent of diflinguifliing, as he may in me- mory or in reafoning; but there is a certain degree of this talent, without which a man would have no title to be confidered as a rea- fonable creature. It ought likewife to be obferved, that attri- butes may with perfeft eafe be diftinguifhed and disjoined in our conception, which cannot be adually feparated in the fubje£l. Thus, in a body, I can dillinguifh its folidity from its extenfion, and its weight from both. In ex- tenfion I can diflinguifli length, breadth, and thicknefs, yet none of thefe can be feparated from the body, or from one another. There may be attributes belonging to a fubjed, and infeparable from it, of which we have no knowledge, and confequentiy no conception ; but this does not hinder our conceiving dif- tinftly thofe of its attributes v/hich we know. Thus, all the properties of a circle are in- feparable from the nature of a circle, and may be demonftrated from its definition ; yet a man may have a perfectly diilintt notion of a circle, who knows very few of thofe properties of it which Mathematicians have domonftrated ; and a circle probably has many properties which no Mathematician ever dreamed of. It is therefore certain, that attributes, which in their nature are abfolutely infeparable from their fubjcft, and from one another, may be disjoined in our conception ; one cannot exift without the other, but one can be conceived without the other. Having Co7K€ptions formed by Analyfing ObjeSfs, 1 09 Having confidered abflradion, ftriftly fo CHAP, called, let us next confider the operation of ^^^' generalifing, which is nothing but the obferv-'' ^""^ ing one or more attributes to be common to many fubjefts. If any man can doubt whether there be at- tributes that are really common to many indi- viduals, let him confider whether there be not many men that are above fix feet high, and many belov/ it; whether there be not many men that are rich, and many more that are poor ; whether there be not many that were born in Britain, and many that were born in France. To multiply inftances of this kind, would be to affront the reader's underftanding« It is certain therefore, that there are innume- rable attributes that are really common to many individuals ; and if this be what the fchoolmen called univerfale a parte rei, we may affirm with certainty, that there are fuch univerfais. There are fome attributes cxpreifed by ge- neral words, of v/hich this may feem more doubtful. Such are the qualities which are inherent in their feveral fubjeds. It may be faid that every fubjeO: hath its own quaHties, and that which is the quality of one fubjed cannot be the quality of another fubjeft. Thus the whitenefs of the flieet of paper upon which I write, cannot be the whitenefs of another flieet, though both are called white. The weight of one guinea is not the weight of another guinea, though both are faid to have the fame weight. To this I anfwer, that the whitenefs of this Iheet is one thing, whitenefs is another ; the conceptions fignified by thefe two forms of fpeech are as different as the expreflions : The ' firfl no E S S A Y V. ^ ^ J^ firfc fignifies an Individual quality really exiH- ^^^^,^1, ing, and is not a general conception, though ' it be an abftracl: one : The fecond fignifies a general conception, which implies no exift- ence, but may be predicated of every thing that is white, and in the fame fenfe. On this account, if one iliould fay, that the whitenefs of this flieet is the whitenefs of another fheet, every man perceives this to be abfurd, but when he fays both flieets are white, this is true and perfectly underftood. The conception of white- nefs impHes no exiilence ; it v»'ould remain the fame, though every thing in the univerfe that is white were annihilated. It appears therefore, that the general names of qualities, as well as of other attributes, are aphcable to many individuals in the fame fenfe, which cannot be if there be not general conceptions fignified by fuch names. If it fbould be afl^ed, how early, or at what period of life, men begin to form general con- ceptions? I anfwer. As foon as a child can fay, with underflanding, that he has two brothers or two fillers; as foon as he can ufe the plural number, he mud have general conceptions j for no individual can have a plural number. As there are not tv/o individuals in nature that agree in every thing, fo there are very few that do not agree in fome things. We take pleafure from very early years in obferving fuch agreements. One great branch of what we call wit, which when innocent, gives plea- fure to every good natured man, confiils in difcovering unexpeded agreements in things. The author of Hudibras could difcern a pro- perty common to the morning and a boiled lobfter, that both turn from black to red. Swift Conceptions formed by Anahftng Objects, 1 1 1 Swift could fee fomething common to wit and CHAP, an old cheefe. Such uncxpefted agreements ^'^• may fhew wit ; but there are innumerable a- greements of things which cannot efcape the notice of the lowefl underftanding ; fuch as agreements in colour, magnitude, figure, fea- tures, time, place, age, and fo forth. Thefe agreements are the foundation of fo many common attributes, which are found In the rudefl: languages. The ancient Philofophers called thefe uni- verfals, or predlcables, and endeavoured to re- duce them to five claifes ; to wit, genus, fpe- cies, fpecific difference, properties, and acci- dents. Perhaps there may be more claffes of univerfals or attributes, for enumerations, fo very general, are feldom complete ; but every attribute, common to feveral individuals, may be expreffed by a general term, which is the fign of a general conception. How prone men are to form general concep- tions we may fee from the ufe of metaphor, and of the other figures of fpeech grounded on fimilitude. Simihtude is nothing elfe than an agreement of the objefts compared in one or more attributes; and if there be no attribute common to both, there can be no fimilitude. The fimilitudes and analogies between the various objc&s that nature prefents to us, are infinite and inexhauftible. They not only pleafe, when difplayed by the Poet or Wit in works of tafte, but they are highly ufeful in the ordinary communication of our thoughts and fentiments by language. In the rude lan- guages of barbarous notions, fimihtudes and analogies fupply the want of proper words to exprefs mens fentiments, fo much, that in f; .:h languages 112 E S S A Y V. CHAP, languages there is hardly a fentence without a • metaphor; and if we examine the moft copi- ous and poHfhed languages, we Ihall find that a great proportion of the words and phrafes which are accounted the moft proper, may be faid to be the progeny of metaphor. As foreigners, who fettle in a nation as their home, come at laft to be incorporated, and lofe the denomination of foreigners, fo words and phrafes, at firft borrowed and figurative, by long ufe become denizens in the language, and lofe the denomination of figures of fpeech. When we fpeak of the extent of knowledge, the fteadinefs of virtue, the tcndernefs of affec- tion, the perfpicuity of expreflion, no man conceives thefe to be metaphorical expreffions ; they are as proper as any in the language : Yet it appears upon the very face of them, that they muft have been metaphorical in thofe who ufed them firft ; and that it is by ufe and prefcription that they have loft the denomination of figura- tive, and acquired a right to be confidered as proper words. This obfervation will be found to extend to a great part, perhaps the greateft part, of the words of the mofi perfeft lan- guages: Sometimes the name of an individual is given to a general conception, and thereby the individual in a manner generalifed. As when the Jew Shylock, in Shakespeare, fays, A Daniel come to judgment; yea, a Daniel! In this fpeech, a Daniel is an attribute, or an univerfal. The character of Daniel, as a man of fingular wifdom, is abftrafted from his per- fon, and confidered as capable of being attri- buted to other perfons. Upon the whole, thefe two operations of ab- ftrading and generalifing appear common to all Clonceptions formed by Analyfing Objeds* all men that have underflanding. The practice ^ j^ a p of them is, and muft be, familiar to every man jjj that ufes language ; but it is one thing to prac- c— y — j life them, and another to explain hovir they are performed ; as it is one thing to fee, ano- ther to explain how we fee. The firll is the province of all men, and is the natural and eafy operation of the faculties which God hath given us. The fecond is the province of Philofo- phers, and though a matter of no great diffi- culty in itfelf, has been much perplexed by the ambiguity of words, and ftill more by the hy- pothefes of Philofophers. Thus when I confider a billiard ball, its co- lour is one attribute, which I fignify by calling it white ; its figure is another, which is figni- fied by calling it fpherical ; the firm coheiion of its parts is fignified by calling it hard ; its recoiling, when it ftrikes a hard body, is figni- fied by its being called elaftic ; its origin, as being part of the tooth of an elephant, is fig- nified by calling it ivory j and its ufe by call- ing it a billiard ball. The words, by which each of thofe attri- butes is fignified, have one diltindl meaning, and in this meaning are applicable to many in- dividuals. They fignify not any individual thing, but attributes common to many indivi- duals ; nor is it beyond the capacity of a child to underlland them perfectly, and to apply them properly to every individual in which they are found. As it is by analyfing a complex objed: into Its feveral attributes that we acquire our fim- pleft abftract conceptions, it may be proper to compare this analyfis with that which a Che- mifl makes of a compounded body into the in- gredients which enter into its compofition ; for Vol. II. I although 114 ESSAY V. CHA P. although there be fuch an analogy between ^^'- thefe two operations, that we give to both the ^^'"^^''^^^ name of analyfis or refolution, there is at the fame time fo great a diinmilitude in fome re- fpefts, that we may be led into error, by ap- plying to one what belongs to the other. It is obvious, that the chemical analyfis is an operation of the hand upon matter, by vari- ous material inflruments. The analyfis we are now explaining is purely an operation of the underfianding, which requires no material in- ftrument, nor produces any change upon any external thing ; we fnall therefore call it the in- telledual or mental analyfis. In the chemical analyfis, the compound body itfelf is the fubjeft analyfed. A fubjecl fo im- perfectly known, that it may be compounded of various ingredients, when to our fenfes it ap- pears perfeftly fimple ; and even when we are able to analyfe it into the different ingredients of which it is compofed, we know not how or ■why the combination of thofe ingredients pro- duces fuch a body. Thus pure fea-falt is a body, to appearance, as fimple as any in nature. Every the leafb particle of it, difcernible by our fenfes, is per- fectly fimilar to every other particle in all its qualities. The nicefl tafle, the quickeft eye, can difcern no mark of its being made up of different ingredients ; yet, by the chemical art, it can be analyfed into an acid and an alkali, and can be again produced by the combination of thofe two ingredients. But how this com- bination produces fea-falt, no man has been able to difcover. The ingredients are both as unlike the compound as any bodies we know. No man could have guefied before the thing was Conceptions formed by Analyfmg ObjeSls* 1 1 5 Was known that fea-falt Is compounded of thofeC HAP. two ingredients ; no man could have guefled, ^^^• that the union of thofe two ingredients fliould' produce fuch a compound as fea-falt. Such in. many cafes arc the phsenomena of the chemical analyfis of a compound body. If we confider the intellectual analyfis of an bbjedt, it is evident that nothing of this kind can happen ; becaufe the thing analyfed is not an external object imperfectly known ; it is a conception of the mind itfelf. And to fuppofe that there can be any thing in a conception that is not conceived, is a contradiction. The reafon of obferving this difference be- tween thofe two kinds of analyfis is, that fome Philofophers, in order to fupport their fyftems, have maintained, that a complex idea may have the appearance of the mod perfe6; fimplicity, iand retain no fimilitude of any of the limple ideas of which it is compounded ; juft as a "white colour may appear perfectly fimple, and retain no fimilitude to any of the feven primary colours of which it is compounded j or as a chemical compoiition may appear perfectly fimple, and retain no fimilitude to any of the ingredients. From which thofe Philofophers have drawn this important conclufion, that a clufter of the ideas of fenfe, properly combined, may make the idea of a mind ; and that all the ideas, which Mr. Locke calls ideas of reflection, are only compofitions of the ideas which we have by our five fenfes. From this the tranfition is eafy, that if a proper compofition of the ideas of matter may make the idea of a mind, then 91 proper compofition of matter itfelf may make \ % a mind. ii6 ESSAY V. C H A P. a mind, and that man is only a piece of mattesr ^^^- curioiifly formed. In this curious fyflem, the whole fabric reds upon this foundation, that a complex idea, which is made up of various fimple ideas, may appear to be perfe£lly fimple, and to have no marks of compofition, becaufe a compound body may appear to our fenfes to be perfedly fimple. Upon this fundamental propofition of this fyflem I beg leave to make two remarks. 1. Suppofmg it to be true, it affirms only what 7nay be. We are indeed in mofl; cafes very imperfed judges of what may be. But this we know, that were we ever fo certain that a thing may be, this is no good reafon for believing that it really is. A may be is a mere hypothefis, which may furnifh matter of inveftigation, but is not entitled to the lead degree of belief. The tranfition from what may be to what really is, is familiar and eafy to thofe who have a predilection for a hypothefis ; but to a man who feeks truth without prejudice or prepoff- effion, it is a very wide and difficult ftep, and he will never pafs from the one to the other, without evidence not only that the thing may be, but that it really is. 2. As far as I am able to judge, this, which it is faid may be, cannot be. That a complex idea fliould be made up of fimple ideas ; fo that to a ripe underilanding refleiSling upon that idea, there fhould be no appearance of compo- fition, nothing fimilar to the fimple ideas of which it is compounded, feems to me to in- volve a contradiftion. The idea is a concep- tion of the mind. If any thing more than this is meant by the idea, I koow not what it is ; and Concept wns formed by Anahfing OhjeBs. wj and I wifh both to know what it is, and to haveC H A P. proof of its exiftence. Now that there fhould ^^^• be any thing in the conception of an obje£t which is not conceived, appears to me as ma- nifefl: a contradiftion, as that there fliould be an exiftence which does not exift, or that a thing (hould be conceived, and not conceived at the fame time. But, fay thefe Philofophers, a white colour is produced by the compofition of the primary colours, and yet has no refemblance to any of them. I grant it. But what can be inferred from this with regard to the compofition of ideas ? To bring this argument home to the point, they muft fay, that becaufe a white colour is compounded of the primary colours, therefore the idea of a white colour is compounded of the ideas of the primary colours. This rea- foning, if it was admitted, would lead to in- numerable abfurdities. An opaque fluid may be compounded of two or more pellucid fluids. Hence we might infer with equal force, that the idea of an opaque fluid may be compound- ed of the idea of two or more pellucid fluids. Nature's way of compounding bodies, and our way of compounding ideas, are fo different in many refpeds, that we cannot reafon from the one to the other, unlefs it can be found that ideas are combined by fermentations and elective attraftions, and may be analyfed in a furnace by the force of fire and of men- ftruums. Until this difcovery be made, we muft hold thofe to be fimple ideas, which, upon the moft attentive refleftion, have no appear- ance of compofition ; and thofe only to be the ingredients of complex ideas, which, by attentive refledion. ii8 ESSAY V. CHAP, reflection, can be perceived to be contained in "^- them. If the idea of mind, and its operations, may be compounded of the ideas of matter and its qualities, why may not the idea of matter be compounded of the idea sof mind ? There is the fame evidence for the laft may he as for the firft. And why may not the idea of found be com^ pounded of the ideas of colour ; or the idea of colour of thofe of found ? Why may not the idea of wifdom be compounded of ideas of fol- ly ; or the idea of truth of ideas of abfurdity ? But we leave thefe myflerious may bes to theiii that have faith to receive them* CHAR Conceptions formed by Combination. CHAP. IV. Of general Conceptions formed by Combination. AS, by an intellediial analyfis of objeds, we form general conceptions of fingle at- tributes, (which of all conceptions that enter into the human mind are the moft fimple), fo, by combining feveral of thefe into one parcel, and giving a name to that combination, we/orm general conceptions that may be very com- plex, and at the fame time very diftind. Thus one, who, by analyfmg extended ob- jects, has got the fnnple notions of a point, a line, ftraight or curve, an angle, a furface, a folid, can eafily conceive a plain furface, ter- minated by four equal ftraight lines meeting in four points at right angles. To this fpecies of figure he gives the name of a fquare. In like manner, he can conceive a folid terminated by fix equal fquares, and give it the name of a cube. A fquare, a cube, and every name o£ mathematical figure, is a general term, ex- prefTmg a complex general conception, made by a certain combination of the fnnple ele- ments into which we analyfe extended bodies. Every mathematical figure is accurately de- fined, by enumerating the fimple elements of which it is formed, and the manner of their combination. The definition contains the whole elfence of it : And every property that belongs to it may be deduced by demonfirative reafoning from its definition. It is not a thing that exifts, for then it would be an individual ; but it is a thing that is conceived without re- gard to exiftence. A farm. I20 E S S A Y V. CHAP. A farm, a manor, a parifh, a county, a ^^- kingdom, are complex general conceptions, ^•^'^'^^ formed by various combinations and modifica- tions of inhabited territory, under certain forms of government. Different combinations of military men form the notions of a company, a regiment, an army. The feveral crimes which are the objeds of criminal law, fuch as theft, murder, robbery, piracy, what are they but certain combinations of human aftions and intentions, which are accurately defined in criminal law, and which it is found convenient to comprehend under one name, and confider as one thing ? When we obferve, that Nature, in her animal, vegetable, and inanimate productions, has formed many individuals that agree in many of their qualities and attributes, we are led by natural inflinct to expect their agree- ment in other qualities, which we have not had occafion to perceive. Thus, a child who has once burnt his finger, by putting it in the flame of one candle, expeds the fame event if he puts it in the flame of another candle, or in any flame, and is thereby led to think that the quality of burning belongs to all flame. This infliindive induction is not jufi:ified by the rules of logic, and it fometimes leads men into harmlefs miftakes, which experience may af- terwards corred: ; but it preferves us from de- ftruOion in innumerable dangers to which we are expofed. The reafon of taking notice of this principle in human nature in this place is, that the dif- tribution of the productions of Nature into ^^- 7iera and /pedes becomes, on account of this principle, more generally ufeful. The CotJCEPtlOT^s formed by Combination. 121 The Phyfician expects, that the rhubarb^^^P* which has never yet been tried will have like | • medical virtues with that which he has prefcri- bed on former occafions. Two parcels of rhu- barb agree in certain fenfible qualities, from which agreement they are both called by the fame general name rhubarb. Therefore it is expefted that they will agree in their medical virtues. And as experience has difcovered certain virtues in one parcel, or in many par- cels, we prefume, without experience, that the fame virtues belong to all parcels of rhu- barb that fhall be ufed. If a traveller meets a horfe, an ox, or a fheep, which he never faw before, he is under no apprehenfion, believing thefe animals to be of a fpecies that is tame and inoffenfive. But he dreads a lion or a tyger, becaufe they are of a fierce and ravenous fpecies. We are capable of receiving innumerable advantages, and are expofed to innumerable dangers, from the various productions of Na- ture, animal, vegetable, and inanimate. The life of man, if an hundred times longer than it is, would be infufficient to learn from experi- ence the ufeful and hurtful qualities of every individual produftion of Nature taken fingly. The Author of Nature hath made provifton for our attaining that knowledge of his works which is neceffary for our fubfiftence and pre- fervation, partly by the conftitution of the pro- duftions of Nature, and partly by the confti- tution of the human mind. For^/3/?, In the productions of Nature, great numbers of individuals are made fo like to one another, both in their obvious and in their piore occult qualities, that we are not only en- abled, 122 E S S A Y V. C H A P.abled, but invited, as it were, to reduce them ^_ into clalTes, and to give a general name to a clafs ; a name which is common to every indi- vidual of the clafs, becaufe it comprehends in its fignification thofe qualities or attributes only that are common to all the individuals of that clafs. Secondly, The human mind is fo framed, that, from the agreement of individuals in the more obvious qualities by which we reduce them into one clafs, we are naturally led to expert that they will be found to agree in their more latent qualities, and in this we are feldom difap^ pointed. We have, therefore, a ftrong and rational inducement, both to diftribute natural fub- ftances into claffes, genera 2.nd /pedes, under general names ; and to do this with all the ac- curacy and diftin£tnefs we are able. For the more accurate our divifions are made, and the more diflindtly the feveral fpecies are defined, the more fecurely we may rely, that the quali- ties we find in one or in a few individuals will \)e found in all of the fame fpecies. Every fpecies of natural fubftances which has a name in language, is an attribute of many individuals, and is itfelf a combination of more ftmple attributes, which we obferve to be com- mon to thofe individuals. We fhall find a great part of the words of every language, nay, I apprehend, the far greater part, to fignify combinations of more iimple general conceptions, which men have found proper to be bound up, as it were, in one parcel, by being defigned by one name. Some general conceptions there are, which may more properly be called compofitiom or ivorks Coi^CEPTioiJS formed by Combination. 123 works than mere combinations. Thus, oneCHAP. may conceive a machine which never exified. *V. He may conceive an air in mufic, a poem, a ^"^"^^ plan of architecture, a plan of government, a plan of conduft in pubUc or in private life, a fentence, a difcourfe, a treatife. Such com- pofitions are things conceived in the mind of the author, not individuals that really exifl ; and the fame general conception which the au- thor had may be communicated to others by language. Thus, the Oceana of Harrington was conceived in the mind of its author. The ma- terials of which it is compofed are things con- ceived, not things that exifted. His fenate, his popular affembly, his magiftrates, his elec- tions, are all conceptions of his mind, and the whole is one complex conception. And the fame may be faid of eyery work of the human • underftanding. Very different from thefe are the works of God, which we behold. They arc works of creative power, not of underftanding only. They have a real exiftence. Our beft concep- tions of them are partial and imperfedt. But of the works of the human underftanding our conception may be perfect and complete. They are nothing but what the author conceiv- ed, and what he can exprefs by language, fo as to convey his conception perfectly to men like himfelf. Although fuch works are indeed complex general conceptions, they do not fo properly belong to our prefent fubje£t. They are more the objeds of judgment and of tafte, than of t>are conception or fimple apprehenfion. To 124 E S S A Y V. crvxj CHAP. To return therefore to thofe complex con- ^^' ceptioRs which are formed merely by combin- ^^ ' ing thofe that are more fimple. Nature has given us the power of combining fuch fimple attributes, and fuch a number of them as we find proper ; and of giving one name to that combination, and confidering it as one objeft of thought. The fimple attributes of things, which fall under our obfervation, are not fo numerous but that they may all have names in a copious language. But to give names to all the com- binations that can be made of two, three, or more of them, would be impollible. The mofl: copious languages have names but for a very fmall part. It may hkewlfe be obferved, that the com- binations that have names are nearly, though not perfe£lly, the fame in the different langua- ges of civilized nations, that have intercourfe with one another. Hence it is, that the Lexi- cographer, for the moft part, can give words in one language anfwering perfectly, or very nearly, to thole of another ; and what is wrote in a fimple ftyle in one language, can be tranf- lated almoft word for w^ord into another. From thefe obfervations we may conclude, that there are either certain common principles of human nature, or certain common occur- rences of human life, which difpofe men, out of an infinite number that might be formed, to form certain combinations rather than others. Mr. Hume, in order to account for this phsenomenon, has recourfe to what he calls the affociating qualities of ideas ; to wit, caufation, contiguity in time, and place, and fimilitude. He conceives, " that one of the mofl remarka- " ble Conceptions formed by Combination. i2< •' ble efFedts of thofe aflbciating qualities,' isC H A P. " the complex ideas which are the common ^^' " fubje6ls of our thoughts. That this alfo is " the caufe why languages fo nearly correfpond " to one another. Nature in a manner point- " ing out to every one thofe ideas which arc *' mofl proper to be united into a complex " one." I agree with this ingenious author, that Na- ture in a manner points out thofe fmiple ideas, which are moft proper to be united into a com- plex one : But Nature does this, not folely or chiefly by the relations between the fimple ideas, of contiguity, caufation, and- refem- blance ; but rather by the fitnefs of the com- binations we make, to aid our own concep- tions, and to convey them to others by lan- guage eafily and agreeably. The end and ufe of language, without regard to the aflbciating qualities of ideas, will lead men that have common underftanding to form fuch complex notions as are proper for ex- preffing their wants, their thoughts, and their defires : And in every language we Ihall find thefe to be the complex notions that have names. In the rudeft ftate offociety, men mufl have occafion to form the general notions of man, woman, father, mother, fon, daughter, fifter, brother, neighbour, friend, enemy, and many others, to exprefs the common relations of one perfon to another. If they are employed in hunting, they mufl have general terms to exprefs the various im- plements and operations of the chace. Their houfes and clothing, however fimple, will fur- nifh another fet of general terms, to exprefs the 126 ESSAY V. CHAP, (-"[^c materials, the workmanfliip, and the ex- cellencies and defeds of thofe fabrics. If they fail upon rivers, or upon the fea, this will give occafion to a great number of general tcrmSj which otherwife would never have occurred to their thoughts. The fame thing may be faid of agriculture, of pafturage, of every art they pradile, and of every branch of knowledge they attain. The neceffity of general terms for communicating our fentiments is obvious ; and the invention of them, as far as we find them necelTary, re- quires no other talent but that degree of un-» derftanding which is common to men. The notions of debtor and creditor, of pro- fit and lofs, of account, balance, ftock on hand, and many others, are owing to com- merce* The notions of latitude, longitude^ courfe, diflance run ; and thofe of fhips, and of their various parts, furniture and operati- ons, are owing to navigation. The Anatomift muft have names, for the various fimilar and diflimilar parts of the human body, and words, to exprefs their figure, pofition, flrufture, and ufe. The Phyfician muft have names for the various difeafes of the body, their caufes, fymptoms, and means of cure. The like may be faid of the Grammarian^ the Logician, the Critic, the Rhetorician, the Moralift, the Naturaliff, the Mechanic, and every man that profeffes any art or fcience. When any difcovery is made in art or in nature, which requires new combinations and new words to exprefs it properly, the invention of thefe is eafy to thofe who have a diftind no- tion of the thing to be expreffed ; and fuch words will readily be adopted, and receive the public fandion. If, Conceptions yor;72._->^ But, on the other hand, the labour is not to be defpifed, by which the road to an ufeful and important branch of knowledge is made eafy in all time to come ; efpecially when this labour requires both extenfive knowledge and great abilities. The talent of arranging properly, and defi- ning accurately, is fo rare, and at the fame time fo ufeful, that it may very juftly be confi- dered as a proof of real genius, and as entitled to a higher degree of praife. There is an in- triniic beauty in arrangement, which capti- vates the mind, and gives pleafure, even ab- flrading from its utility ; as in moft other things, fo in this particularly, Nature has join- ed beauty with utility. The arrangement of an army in the day of battle is a grand fpefta- cle. The fame men crowded in a fair, have no fuch effeft. It is not more ftrange there- fore that fome men fpend their days in ftudying fyftems of Nature, than that other men employ their lives in the ftudy of languages. The moft important end of thofe fyftems, furely is to form a copious and an unambiguous lan- guage concerning the produftions of Nature, by which every ufeful difcovery concerning them may be communicated to the prefent, and tranfmitted to all future generations, with- out danger of miftake. General terms, efpecially fuch as are com- plex in their fignification, will never keep one precife meaning without accurate definition ; and accurate definitions of fuch terms can in no way be formed fo eafily and advantageouf- 136 ESSAY V. CHAP, ly^ as by reducing the things they fignify into a recr-alar fyftem. Very eminent men in the medical profeflion, in order to remove all ambiguity in the names of difeafes, and to advance the healing art, have of late attempted to reduce into a fyfte- matical order the difeafes of the human body, and to give diftind: names, and accurate djefi- nitions, of the feveral fpecies, genera, orders, and claifes, into which they diftribute them ; and I apprehend, that in every art and fcience, where the terms of the art have any ambiguity that obflrufts its progrefs, this method will be found the eafieft and mofl fuccefsful for the remedy of that evil. It were even to be wifhed, that the general terms which we find in common language, as well as thofe of the arts and fciences, could be reduced to a fyftematical arrangement, and de- fined fo as that they might be free from ambi- guity ; but perhaps the obilacles to this are in- furmountable. 1 know no man who has at- tempted it but Bifhop Wilkins in his Eifay towards a real charader and a philofophical language. The attempt was grand, and wor- thy of a man of genius. The formation of fuch fyflems, therefore, of the various productions of Nature, inflead of being defpifed, ought to be ranked among the valuable improvements of modern ages, and to be the more efteemed that its utility reaches to the mofl diflant future times, and, like the invention of writing, ferves to embalm a mofl important branch of human knowledge, and to preferve it from being corrupted or lofl, CHAP. Of NAMES ^/W;2 to general NOTIONS. 137 CHAP. V. Obfervations concerning the Names given to our general Notions. HAVING now explained, as well as I am able, thofe operations of the mind by which we analyfe the objefts which Nature prefents to our obfervation, into their fimple attributes, giving a general name to each, and by which we combine any number of fuch attributes into one whole, and give a general name to that combination, I fhall offer fome obfervations relating to our general notions, whether fimple or complex. I apprehend that the names given to them by modern Philofophers have contributed to darken our fpeculations about them, and to render them ditficult and abftrufe. We call them general notions, conceptions, ideas. The words notion and conception, in their proper and moft common fenfe, fignify the adt or operation of the mind in conceiving an object. In a figurative fenfe, they are fometimes put for the objeO: conceived. And I think they are rarely, if ever, ufed in this figurative fenfe, except when we fpeak of what we call general notions or general conceptions. The word idea, as it is ufed in modern times, has the fame ambiguity. Now, it is only in the laft of thefe fenfes, and not in the firft, that we can be faid to hjive general notions or conceptions. The genera- lity is in the objeft conceived, and not in the ad of the mind by which it is conceived. Every a6t of the mind is an individual adt, which 138 E S S A Y V. C H A P. which does or did exift. But we have power • to conceive things which neither do nor ever did e^ft. We have power to conceive attri- butes without regard to their exiftence. The conception of fuch an r.ttribute is a real and individual act of the mind ; but the attribute conceived is common to many individuals that do or may exift. We are too apt to confound an objeft of conception with the conception of that objed. But the danger of doing this muft be much greater when the obje£t of conception is called a conception. The Peripatetics gave to fuch objedts of conception the names of univerfals, and of predicables. Thofe names had no ambiguity, and I think were much more fit to exprefs what was meant by them than the names we ufe. It is for this reafon that I have fo often ufed the word attribute, which has the fame mean- ing with predicable. And for the fame reafon, I have thought it neceffary repeatedly to warn the reader, that when, in compliance with cuftom, I fpeak of general notions or general conceptions, I always mean things conceived, and not the aft of the mind in conceiving them. The Pythagoreans and Platonifts gave the name of ideas to fuch general objedls of con- ception, and to nothing elfe. As we borrow- ed the word idea from them, fo that it is now familiar in all the languages of Europe, I think it would have been happy if we had alfo bor- rowed their meaning, and had ufed it only to fignify what they meant by it. I apprehend we want an unambiguous word to diftinguifii things barely conceived from things that exift. If Of NAMES given to general NOTIONS. 139 If the word idea was ufed for this purpofe only, CHAP, it would be reftored to its original meaning, ^• and fupply that want. We may furely agree with the Platonifts in the meaning of the word idea, without adopt- ing their theory concerning ideas. We need not believe, with them, that ideas are eternal and felf-exiftent, and that they have a more real exiftence than the things we fee and feel. They were led to give exiftence to ideas, from the common prejudice that every thing which is an objecb of conception muft really exift ; and having once given exiftence to ideas, the reft of their myfterious fyftem about ideas followed of courfe ; for things merely conceived, have neither beginning nor end, time nor place ; they are fubjeft to no change; they are the patterns and exemplars according to which the Deity made every thing that he made ; for the work muft be conceived by the artificer before it is made. Thefe are undeniable attributes of the ideas of Plato, and if we add to them that of real exiftence, we have the whole myfterious fyftem of Platonic ideas. Take away the attribute of exiftence, and fuppofe them not to be things that exift, but things that are barely conceived, and all the myftery is removed ; all that re- mains is level to the human underftanding. The word effence came to be much ufed among the fchoolmen, and what the Platonifts called the idea of a fpecies, they called its effence. The word ejfentia is faid to have been made by Cicero ; but even his authority could not give it currency, until long after his time. It came at laft to be ufed, and the fchoolmen fell into much the fame opinions concerning effences, 140 E S S A Y V. CHAP, eflences, as the Platonifts held concerning ^- ideas. The eflences of things were held to be ^'^'^^^ uncreated, eternal, and immutable. Mr. Locke diftinguifhes two kinds of effence, the real and the nominal. By the real eflence he means the conftitution of an indivi- dual, which m.akes it to be what it is. This eflence mufl begin and end with the individual to which it belongs. It is not therefore a Platonic idea. But what Mr. Locke calls the nominal eflence, is the confiimtion of a fpecies, or that which makes an individual to be of fuch a fpecies ; and this is nothing but that combi- nation of attributes which is fignified by the name of the fpecies, and which we conceive without regard to exiftence. The eflence of a fpecies therefore, is what the Platonifl;s called the idea of the fpecies. If the word idea be reftrided to the meaning which it bore among the Platonifl:s andPytha- goreans, many things which Mr. Locke has faid with regard to ideas will be juft: and true, and others will not. It will be true, that mofl: words, (indeed all general words,) are the figns of ideas ; but proper names are not ; they fignify individual things, and not ideas. It will be true not only that there are general and abfl:ract ideas, but that all ideas are general and abfliract. It will be fo far from the truth, that all our fimple ideas are got immediately, either from fenfa- tion, or from confcioufnefs ; that no fimple idea is got by either, without the co-operation of other powers. The objefts of fenfe, ot me- mory, and of confcioufnefs, are not ideas but individuals ; they mufl: be analyfed by the un- derftanding into their fimple ingredients, be- fore Of NAMES gi'ven u general NOTIONS. 14, fore we can have fimple ideas ; and thoie fimpleC HAP. ideas muft be again combined by the under- V. {landing, in diflind: parcels with names annex-^^ ""' ' ed, in order to give us complex ideas : It will be probable not only that brutes have no ab- flraft ideas, but that they have no ideas at all. I Ihall only add, that the learned author of the origin and progrefs of language, and per- haps his learned friend Mr. Harris, are the only modern authors I have met with, who re- ftrift the word idea to this meaning. Their acquaintance with ancient philofophv led them to this. What pity is it that a word, which in ancient philofophy had a diftinft meaning, and which, if kept to that meaning, would have been a real acquifition to our language, fhould be ufed by the moderns in fo vague and am- biguous a manner, that it is more apt to per- plex and darken our fpeculations, than to convey ufeful knowledge. From all that has been faid about abftraft and general conceptions, I think we may draw the following conclufions concerning them. Firji; That it is by abftraftion that the mind is furnilhed with all its mofl fimple, and moft diftinO: notions: The fimpleft objeds of fenfe appear both complex and indiftinft, until by abftraction they are analyfed into their more fimple elements ; and the fame may be faid of the objeds of memory and of confcioufnefs. Secondly, Our moft diftinft complex notions are thofe that are formed by compounding the fimple notions got by abftraftion. Thirdly, Without the powers of abflrading and generalifing, it would be impoflible to re- duce things into any order and method, by di- viding them into genera and fpecies. Fourthly, 142 E S S A Y V. CHAP. Fourthly, Without thofe powers there could ^- be no definition ; for definition can only be ap- ^^"^^^^^ plied to univerfals, and no individual can be defined. Fifthly, Without abftrad and general notions there can neither be reafoning nor language. Sixthly, As brute animals fhew no figns of being able to diftinguifh the various attri- butes of the fame fubjed: ; of being able to clafs things into genera and fpecies ; to define, to reafon, or to communicate their thoughts by artificial figns, as men do ; I muft think w^ith Mr. Locke, that they have not the powers of abflrading and generalifing ; and that in this particular Nature has made a fpecific difference between them and the human fpecies. CHAP. OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 143 C H A P. VI. Opinions of Pbilofophers about Univerfals. N the ancient philofophy, the doftrine of univerfals, that is, of things which we ex- prefs by general terms, makes a great figure. The ideas of the Pythagoreans and Platonills, of which fo much has been already faid, were univerfals. All fcience is employed about uni- verfals as its objeft. It was thought that there can be no fcience unlefs its objeft be fomething real and immutable ; and therefore thofe who paid homage to truth and fcience, maintained that ideas or univerfals have a real and immu- table exiftence. The fceptics, on the contrary, (for there were fceptical Philofophers in thofe early days) maintained, that all things are mutable, and in a perpetual fluduation ; and from this prin- ciple inferred, that there is no fcience, no truth ; that all is uncertain opinion. Plato, and his mafters of the Pythagorean fchool, yielded this with regard to objects of fenfe, and acknowledged that there could be no fcience or certain knowledge concerning them : But they held, that there are objects of intelledt of a fuperior order and nature, which are permanent and immutable. Thefe are ideas, or univerfal natures, of which the ob- jedls of fenfe are only the images and fhadows. To thefe ideas they afcribed, as 1 have al- ready obferved, the moft magnificent attri- butes. Of man, of a rofe, of a circle, and of every fpecies of things, they believed that there is H4 E S S A Y V. C H A P. is one idea or form, which exifted from etcf-- nity, before any individual of the fpecies was formed : That this idea is the exemplar or pattern, according to which the Deity formed the individuals of the fpecies : That every in- dividual of the fpecies participates of this idea, which conftitutes its effence ; and that this idea is likewife an objed of the human intelletl, when, by due abftradion, wedifcernit to be one in all the individuals of the fpecies. Thus the idea of every fpecies, though one and immutable, might be confidered in three different views or refpecls ; jirft^ as having an eternal exiflence before there was any indivi- dual of the fpecies ; Jecondly^ as exifting in every individual of that fpecies, without divi- fion or multiplication, and making the effence of the fpecies ; and, thirdly^ as an object of intelleft and of fcience in man. Such I take to be the doftrine of Plato, as far as I am able to comprehend it. His ciifciple Aristotle rejedled the firfl: of theie views of ideas as vifionary, but differed little from his mafter with regard to the two lad. He did not admit the exillence of univerfal natures an- tecedent to the exiftence of individuals ; but he held, that every individual confifts of matter and form : That the form (which I take to be what Plato calls the idea) is common to all the individuals of the fpecies, and that the hu- man intelleft is fitted to receive the forms of things as objefts of contemplation. Such pro- found fpeculations about the nature of univer- fals, we find even in the firfl ages of philofophy. I wifh I could make them more intelligible to myfelf and to the reader. The OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. ^45 The divifion 6f univerfals into five claffes ;C H A P, to wit, genus, fpecies, fpeclfic difference, pro- ^^• perties, and accidents, is likewife Very ancient, ~^~"~~' and I conceive was borrowed by the Peripate- tics from the Pythagorean fchool. Porphyry has given us a very dift:in£t trea- tife upon thefe, as an introduction to Aristo- tle's categories. But he has omitted the in- tricate metaphyfical queftions that were agita- ted about their nature ; fuch as, Whether gene- fa and fpecies do really exift in nature? Whether they are corporeal or incorporeal ? And whe- ther they are inherent in the objeds of fenfe, or disjoined from them ? Thele queflions he tells us, for brevity's fake, he omits, becaufe they are very profound, and require accurate difculfion. It is probable, that thefe queftions exercifed the wits of the Philofophers till about the twelfth century. About that time, Roscelinus or Rusceli- NU?i the mafter of the famous Abei.ard, in- troduced a new do£lrine, that there is nothing univerfal but words or names. For this, and ether herefies, he was much perfecuted. Howe- ver, by his eloquence and abilities, and thofe of his difciple Abelard, the do6trine fpread, and thofe who followed it were called Nomi- nalifts. His antagonifis, who held that there are things that are really univerfal, were called Realifts. The fcholaftic Philofophers, from the beginning of the twelfth century, were di- vided into thefe two fedls. Some few took a middle road between the contending parties. That univerfality, which the Realifts held to be in things themfelves, Nominalifts in name only. They held to be neither in things nor in names only, but in our conceptions. On this ac- VoL. II. L count 146 E S S A Y V. CH A P. count they were called Conceptualifls : But ^^' being expofed to the batteries of both the op- ^'''^^^ pofite parties, they made no great figure. When the fed of Nominalifls was like to expire, it received new life and fpirit from Occam, the difciple of Scotus, in the four* teenth century. Then the difpute about uni- Verfals, o parte ret ^ was revived with the great- eft animofity in the fchools of Britain, France, and Germany, and carried on, not by argu- ments only, but by bitter reproaches, blows, and bloody afiVays, until the do6trines of Lu- ther and the other Reformers turned. the at- tention of the learned word to more important fubjefts. After the revival of learning, Mr. Hobbes adopted the opinion of the Nominalifts. Hu- man nature^ chap. 5. feci. 6. " It is plain, " therefore, fays he, that there is nothing uni- " verfal but names." And in his Leviathan, part I, chap. 4. '* There being nothing uni- " verfal but names, proper names bring to " mind one thing only ; univerfals recal any " one of many." Mr. Locke, according to the divifion before mentioned, I think, may be accounted a Con- ceptualift. He does not maintain that there are things that are univerfal ; but that we have general or univerfal ideas which we form by abftraction ; and this power of forming abftraO: and general ideas, he conceives to be that which makes the chief diftinction in point of underftanding between men and brutes. Mr. Locke's dodlrine about abftraftion has been combated by two very pov/erful antago- nifts, Bifhop Berkeley and Mr. Hume, who have taken up the opinion of the Nominalifts. The OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVEELSALS. 147 The former thinks, " That the opinion, that'CnAP. " the mind hath a power of forming abftraft ^^- " ideas, or notions of things, has had a chief »" ' " part in rendering fpeculation intricate and ** perplexed, and has occafioned innumerable " errors and difficuhies in almofl all parts of " knowledge." That, " abftract ideas are " like a fine and fubtile net, which has mife- " rably perplexed and entangled the minds of " men, with this peculiar circumftance, that " by how much the finer and more curious " was the wit of any man, by fo much the " deeper was he like to be enfnared, and fafter " held therein." That " among all the falfe " principles that have obtained in the world, " there is none hath a more wide i^influence " over the thoughts of fpeculative men than ''' this of abftrad: general ideas.'* The good Bifiiop therefore, in twenty-four pages of the Introduction to his Principles of Human Knowledge, encounters this principle with a zeal proportioned to his apprehenfion of its malignant and extenfive influence. That the zeal of the fceptical Philofophcr againft abflraCt ideas was almoft equal to that of the Bifhop, appears from his words, Trea- tife of Human Nature, book i. part i. fed:. 7. " A very material queftion has been flarted " concerning abftraft or general ideas, whe- " ther they be general or particular in the " mind's conception of them ? A great Philo- " fopher (he means Dr. Berkeley) has dif- " puted the received opinion in this particular, " and has aflerted, that all general ideas are " nothing but particular ones annexed to a " certain term, which gives them a more ex- " tenfive fignification, and makes them recal L 2 " upon 148 ESSAY V. C H A P. " vipon occafion other individuals, which are V^ « fimilar to them. As I look upon this to be •, ^ . tj ^j^^ ^^ ^^^ greateft and moil valuable difco- " veries that have been made of late years in " the republic of letters, I fliall here endea- " vour to confirm it by feme arguments, " vv-nlch I hope vi'ill put it beyond all doubt " and controverfy." I fliall make an end of this fubjecl, with feme reflefUons on what has been faid upon it by thefe two eminent Philofophers. Fir/l, I apprehend that we cannot, witii pro- priety, be faid to have abflracl and general ideas, either in the popular or in the philofo- phical fenfe of that word. In the popular fcnfe an idea is a thought ;. it is the act of the mind in thinking, or in conceiving any object. This acl of the mind is always an individual act, and therefore there can be no general idea in this fenfe. In the philofophical fenfe, an idea is an image in the mind, or in the brain, which in Mr. Locke's fyftem is the immediate objeft of thought; in the fyftem of Berkeley and Hume the only obje6t of thought. I believe there are no ideas of this kind, and therefore no abftract general ideas. Indeed, if there were really fuch images in the mind, or in the brain, they could not be general, becaufe every thing that really exifts is an individual. Univerfals are neither ads of the mind, nor images In the mind. As therefore there are no general ideas in either of the fenfes in which the word idea is ufed by the moderns, Berkeley and Hume have in this queftlon an advantage over Mr. Locke ; and their arguments againfl him are good ad bommem. They faw farther than he ^ ^ did OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 149 did into the juft confequences of the hypothefiiC H A P- concerning ideas, which was common to thnn and to him ; and they reafoned jiiftly from this hypothefis, when they concluded from it, that there is neither a material world, nor any fuch power in the human mind as that of ab- ftradlion. A triangle, in general, or any other uni- verfal, might be called an idea by a Platonill ; but, in the (lyle of modern philofophy, it is not an idea, nor do we ever afcribe to ideas the properties of triangles. It is never faid of any idea, that it has three fides and three an- gles. We do not fpeak of equilateral, ifofce- les, or fcalene ideas, nor of right angled, acute angled, or obtufe angled ideas. And ifthefe attributes do not belong to ideas, it follows neceflfarily, that a triangle is not an idea. The fame reafoning may be applied to every other univerfal. ideas are faid to have a real exiftence in the mind, at lead, while we think of them ; but univerfals have no real exiftence. When we afcribe exiftence to them, it is not an exif- tence in time or place, but exiftence in fome individual fubjeft ; and this exiftence means no more but that they are truly attributes of fuch a fubjedl. Their exiftence is nothing but predicability, or the capacity of being attribu- ted to a fubjed. The name of predicables, which was given them in ancient philofophy, is that which moft properly expreifes their na- ture. 2. I think it muft be granted, in the fecond place, that univerfals caimot be the objeds of imagination, when we take that word in its ftrid and proper fenfe. " I find, fays Be r- '• KELEY, 150 E S S A Y V. CHAP. « KELEY, " I have a faculty of imagining or " reprefenting to myfelf the ideas of thofe particular things I have perceived, and of " varioufly compounding and dividing them. " I can imagine a man with two heads, or the " upper parts of a man joined to the body of " a horfe. I can imagine the hand, the eye, " the nofe, each by itfelf, abflraded or fepa- " rated from the reft of the body. But then, " whatever hand or eye I imagine, it muft " have fome particular fhape or colour. " Likewife, the idea of a man that I frame to *' myfelf muft be either of a white, or a black, " or a tawny, a ftraight or a crooked, a tall, " or a low, or a middle-fized man." I believe every man will find in himfelf what this ingenious author found, that he cannot imagine a man without colour, or ftature, or fhape. Imagination, as u'e before obferved, pro- perly fignifies a conception of the appearance an objed would make to the eye, if aftually feen. An univerfal is not an objed of any external fenfe, and therefore cannot be ima- gined ; but it may be diftindly conceived. "When Mr. Pope fays, " the proper ftudy of " mankind is man,*' I conceive his meaning diftindly, though I neither imagine a black or a white, a crooked or a ftraight man. The diftinclion between conception and imaginati- on is real, though it be too often overlooked, and the words taken to be fynonimous. I can conceive a thing that is impoffible, but I can- not diftindtly imagine a thing that is impofti- ble. I can conceive a propofition or a demon- ftration, but I cannot imagine either. I can conceive underftanding and will, virtue and vice. OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 151 vice, and other attributes of mind, but I can-^ ^'^ f^ ^• not imagine them. In like manner, I can diftindly conceive univerfals, but I cannot imagine them. As to the manner how we conceive unlver^ fals, 1 confefs my ignorance. I know not how I hear, or fee, or remember, and as little do I know how I conceive things that have no ex- iftence. In all our original faculties, the fa- bric and manner of operation is, I apprehend, beyond our comprehenfion, and perhaps is perfeftly underftood by him only who made them. But we ought not to deny a faft of which we are confcious, though we know not how it is brought about. And I think we may be certain that univerfals are not conceived by means of images of them in our minds, be- caufe there can be no image of an univerfal. 3. It feems to me, that on this queftion Mr. Locke and his two antagonifts have divided the truth between them. He faw very clearly, that the power of forming abftra6t and general conceptions is one of the mod diftinguifliing powers of the human mind, and puts a fpecific difference between man and the brute creati- on. But he did not fee that this power is per- fectly irreconcileable to his doctrine concern- ing ideas. His opponents faw this inconfiftericy ; but inflead of rejecting the hypothefis of ideas, they explain away the power of abilradtion, and leave no fpecific diltin6tion between the human underftanding and that of brutes. 4. Berkeley, in his reafoning againft ab- ftra6t general ideas, fecms unwillingly or un- warily 152 ESSAY V. C H A P. warily to grant all that is neceflary to fupport abltra6t and general Conceptions. S"^'^^^'^^ " A map, he fays, may confider a figure ** merely as triangular, without attending to *' the particular qualities of the angles, or re- " lations of the fides. So far he may abflraft. '* But thii will never prove that he can frame " an abftratt general inconfiftent idea of a -" triangle.'* If a man may confider a figure merely as triangular, he muft have fome conception of this objeft of his confideration : For no man can copfider a thing which he does not con- ceive. He has a conception, therefore, of a triangular figure^ merely as fuch. I know no more that is meant bv an abftrad gerieval con- ception of a triangle. He that confiders a figure merely as trian- gular, mufl underftand what is meant by the word triangular. If to the conception he joins to this word, he adds any particular quaUty of angles or relation of fides, he mifunderftands it, and does not confider the figure merely as triangular. Whence I think it is evident, that he who confiders a figure merely as tri- angular mufl: have the conception of a trian- gle, abflrafting from any quality of angles or relation of fides. The Bifhop, in like manner, grants, " That ** we may confider Peter fo far forth as man, ^ *' or fo far forth as animal, without framing " the forementioned abftrad idea, in as much " as all that is perceived is not confidercd." It may here be obferved, that he who confiders Peter fo far forth as man, or fo far forth as animal, mufl: conceive the meaning of thofe abfl:ra6l: general v/ords r.^an and animal^ and he OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS, ^53 he who conceives the meaning of them, hasC H A P. an abftraft general conception. ^^• From thefe conceflions, one would be apt to *-"°""^'*''*^ conclude that the Biihop thinks that we can abftracl, but that we cannot frame abftraft ideas ; and in this I Ihould agree with him. But I cannot reconcile his concelfions with the general principle he lays down before. " lb " be plain,** fays he, " I deny that I can ab- " flract one from another, or conceive fepa- " rately thofe qualities which it is impoffible " Ihould exifl fo feparated.** This appears to me inconfiftent with the concelfions above mentioned, and inconfiftent with experience. If we can confider a figure merely as trian- gular, without attending to the particular qua- lity of the angles or relation of the fides, this, I think, is conceiving feparately things which cannot exift fo feparated : For furely a triangle cannot exift without a particular quality of an- gles and relation of Ades. And it is well known from experience, that a man may have a di(tin<^ conception of a triangle, without having any conception or knowledge of many pf the properties without which a triangle can- •not exift. Let us next confider the Bifliop's notion of generalifing. He does not abfolutely deny that there are general ideas, but only that there are abftra6l general ideas. " An idea,** he fays, " which, confidered in itfelf, is par- ^' ticular, becomes general, by being made to " reprefent or ftand for all other particular *' ideas of the fame fort. To make this plain " by an example, Suppofe a Geometrician is ** demonftrating the method of cutting a line *' in two equal parts. He draws, for inftance, *' a black 154 ESSAY V. a black line of an inch in length. This, which is in itfelf a particular line, is never- thelcfs, with regard to its fignification, ge- " neral ; fmce, as it is there ufed, it repre- " fcnts ail particular lines whatfoever ; fo that " what is demondrated of it, is demon- " flrated of all lines, or, in other words, " of a line in general. And as that par- " ticular line becomes general by be- " ing made a fign, fo the name line, which, " taken abfolutely, is particular, by being a " fign, is made general." Here I obferve, that when a particular idea is made a fign to reprefent and ftand for all of a fort, this fuppofes a diffcindion of things into forts or fpecies. To be of a fort implies hav- ing thofe attributes which charafterife the fort, and are common to all the individuals that be- long to it. There cannot, therefore, be a fort without general attributes, nor can there be any conception of a fort without a conception of thofe general attributes which diflinguilh it. The conception of a fort, therefore, is an ab- flract general conception. The particular idea cannot furely be made a figrn of a thing;- of which we have no conceoti- on, 1 do not fay that you mud have an idea of the fort, but furely you ought to under- ftand or conceive what it means, when you make a particular idea a reprefcntative of it, otherwife your particular idea reprefents, you know not what. When I demonftrate any general property of a triangle, fuch as, that the three angles are equal to two right angles, I mull underfland or conceive diftindly what is common to alj triangles. I muft diflinguifii the common at- tributes OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 155 tributes of all tri?.iigles from thofe wherein par- CHAP, .ticular triangles may differ. And if I conceive '^^'• diftinftly what is common to ail triangles, without confounding it with what is not fo, this is to form a general conception of a trian- gle. And without this, it is inipollible to know- that the dcmonilration extends to all triangles. The Bifhop takes particular notice of this argument, and ' makes this anlwer to it. " Though the idea 1 have in view, whilft I " make the demonftration, be, for inftance, " that of an iibfceles rectangular triangle, " whofe fides are of a determinate length, I " may neverthelefs be certain that it extends " to all other rectilinear triangles, of what " fort or bignefs foever ; and that becaufe " neither the right angle, nor the equality or " determinate length of the fides, are at all " concerned in the demonftration." But if he do not, in the idea he has in view, clearly diftinguifh what is common to all tri- angles from what is not, it would be impoffi- ble to difcern whether fomething that is not common be concerned in the demonftration or not. In order, therefore, to perceive that the demonftration extends to all triangles, it is neceflary to have a diftinft conception of what is common to all triangles, excluding from that conception all that is not common. And this is all 1 underftand by an abftraft general con- ception of a triangle. Berkeley catches an advantage to his fide of the queftion, from what Mr. Locke ex- preffes (too ftrongly indeed) of the difficulty of framing abftraft general ideas, and the pains and fkill neceffary for that purpofe. From which the Bifhop infers, that a thing fo diffi- cult 156 E S S A Y V. C H A P. cult cannot be neceffary for communication by ^^' language, which is fo eafy and familiar to all '-^^'^''^^ forts of men. There may be feme abftracl and general conceptions that are diiFicult, or even beyond the reach of perfons of weak undcrrtanding ; but there are innumerable, which are not be- yond the reach of children. It is impoflible to learn language without acquiring general con- ceptions ; for there cannot be a fingle fentence without them, I believe the forming thefe, and being able to articulate the founds of lan- guage, make up the whole difficulty that chil- dren find in learning language at firfl. But this difficulty, we fee, they are able to overcome fo early as not to remember the pains it coft them. They have the ftrongeft induce- ment to exert all their labour and ikill, in or- der to underftand, and to be underflood j and they no doubt do fe. The labour of forming abflrad notions, is the labour of learning to fpeak, and to under- ftand what is fpoken. As the words of every language, excepting a few proper names, are general words, the minds of children are fur- nifhed with general conceptions, in proportion as they learn the meaning of general words. I believe mod men have hardly any general no- tions but thofe which are expreffied by the ge- neral words they hear and ufe in converfation. The meaning of fome of thefe is learned by a definition, which at once conveys a difHndt and accurate general conception. The mean- ing of other general words v/e collefl, by a kind of induftion, from the way in which we fee them ufed on various occafions by thofe who underftand the language. Of thefe our concep- OPINIONS ABOUT tJNIVERSALS. r^/ conception is often lefs diftinft, and in diiTe-^ ^^^ ^■ rent perfons is perhaps not perfectly the fame. " Is it not a hard thing, fays the Bifliop, " that a couple of children cannot prate toge- " ther of their fiigar plumbs and rattles, and " the reft of their little trinkets, till they " have firft tacked together number! efs incon- " fiftencies, and fo formed in their minds ab- " ftrad general ideas, and annexed them to " every common name they make ufe of." However hard a thing it may be, it is an evident truth, that a couple of children, even about their fugar-plumbs and their rattles, cannot prate fo as to underftand, and be un- derflood, until they have learned to conceive the meaning of many general vv^ords, and this, I think, is to have general conceptions. 5. Having confidered the fentiments of Bi- fliop Berkeley on this fubjeft, let us next at- tend to thofe of Mr. Hume, as they are ex- prefTed, part i. fed. 7. Treatife of Human Nature. He agrees perfectly v/ith the Bifhop, " That all general ideas are nothing but par- " ticular ones annexed to a certain term, " which gives them a more extenfive fignifi- " cation, and m.akes them recal upon occafion " other individuals which are fimilar to them. *' A particular idea becomes general, by " being annexed to a general term. ; that is, '* to a term, which, from a cuftomary con- " junction, has a relation to many other par- " ticular ideas, and readily recals them in the " imao^ination. Abilradt ideas are therefore ,0 ... " in themfelves mdividual, however they may " become general in their reprefentation. The. " image in the mind is only that of a particu- " lar obje6i, though the application of it in " our J5S E S S A Y V. CHAP." our reafonlng be the fame as if it was uni- '^'i " verfal." '^"'^'"^ Although Mr. Hume looks upon this to be , one of the greateft: and moll valuable difcove- ries that has been made of late years in the republic of letters, it appears to be no other than the opinion of the Nominalifts, about which {"o much difpute was held from the be- ginning of the twelfth century down to the re- form.ation, and which was afterwards fupport- ed by Mr. Hobbf.s. I (hall briefly confider the arguments, by which Mr.. Hume hopes to have put it beyond ail doubt and controverfy. Fir/l, He endeavours to prove, by three ar- guments, that it is utterly impoffible to con- ceive any quantity or quality, without forming a precife notion of its degrees. This is indeed a great undertaking ; but if he could prove it, it is not fufficient for his purpofe ; for two reafons. ivr/?, Becaufe there are many attributes of things, befides quantity and quality ; and it is incumbent upon him to prove, that it is im- poffible to conceive any attribute, without forming a precife notion of its degree. Each of the ten categories of Aristotle is a genus, and may be an attribute : And if he Ihould prove of two of them, to wit, quantity and quality, that there can be no general concep- tion of them ; there remain eight behind, of which this m.uft be proved. The other reafon is, becaufe, thoughitwereim- poilible to conceive anyquantity or quality, with- out forming a precife notion of its degree, it does not follow that it is impolTible to have a general conception even of quantity and qua- lity. The conception of a pound troy is the conception OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. , -^ conception of a quantity, and of the prccife de-C H A P, gree of that quantity ; but it is an abftracl ge- VI. neral conception notwithftanding, becaufe it ' — ^"^ may be the attribute of many individual bodies, and of many kinds of bodies. He ought there- fore to have proved, that we cannot conceive quantity or quaHty, or any other attribute, without joining it infeparably to fome indivi- dual fubject. This remains to be proved, which will be found no eafy matter. For inftance, I con- ceive what is meant by a Japancfe as diftinclly as what is meant by an Engllfhrnan or a Frenchman. It is true, a Japanefe is neither quantity nor quality, but it is an attribute common to every individual of a populous na- tion. I never faw an individual of that nation, and, if I can truft my confcioufnefs, tlie gene- ral term does not lead me to imagine one in- dividual of the fort as a reprefentative of all others. Though Mr. Hume, therefore, undertakes m.uch, yet, if he could prove all he undertakes to prove, it would by no means be fufficient to fliew that we have no abftracl; general con- ceptions. Palling this, let us attend to his arguments for proving this extraordinary pofition, that it is impoflible to conceive any quantity or qua- lity, without forming a precife notion of its degree. The firft argument is, that It is impoirible to diftinguifh things that are not aciliually fepara- ble. " The precife length of a line is not different or dlftinguirnabie from the line. I have before endeavoured to fiiew, that things infeparable in their nature may be dlftln- guldied i66 ESSAY V. CHAP, guifheci in our conception. And we need gd ^ ^- ho farther to be convinced of this, than the in- ^^'^'^^ fiance here brought to prove the contrary* The prccife length of a line, he fays, is not difHnguiihable from the line. When I fay, tbis is a line, I fay and mean one thing. When I fay ;/ is a line of three inches^ I fay and mean another thing. If this be ngt to diitinguifli the precife length of the line from the line, I know hot what it is to diftinguifli. Second argument. " Every objed of fenfc^ that is, every impreliicn, is an individual, having its determinate degrees of quantity and quality : But whatever is true of the " imprefnon is true of the idea, as they difler " in nothing but their ftrength and vivacity." The conclufion in this argument is indeed juftly drawn from the premifes. If it be triie that ideas differ in nothing from objects of fenfe but in ftrengtli and vivacityj as it muft be granted that all the objefts of fenfe are indivi- duals, it will certainly follow that all ideas are individuals. Granting therefore the juftnefs of this conclufion, I beg leave to draw tv/o other conclufions from the fame premifes, which will follow no lefs neceffarily. Firft, If ideas differ from the obje^lfr of fenfe- only in flrength and vivacity, it will follow, that the idea of a Hon is a lion of lefs flrength and vivacity. And hence may arife a very im- portant queflion. Whether the idea of a lion may not tear in pieces, and devour the ideas of .flieep, oxen, and horfes, and even of men, women, and children? Secondly, If ideas differ only in flrength and vivacity from the objecls of fenfe, it will fol- low. I OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. iSi low, that objeds, merely conceived, arenotCHAP. ideas ; for fuch objects differ from the objeds ^^• of fenfe in refpefts of a very different nature from ftrength and vivacity. Every objed of fenfe muff have a real exiftence, and time and place : But things merely conceived may nei- ther have exiftence, nor time nor place ; and therefore, though there ffiould be no abftra£t ideas, it does not follow, that things abftrad and general may not be conceived. The third argument is this : " It is a prlnci- " pie generally received in philofophy, that " every thing in nature is individual ; and " that it is utterly abfurd to fuppofe a triangle *' really exiftent, which has no precife propor- " tion of fides and angles. If this, therefore, " be abfurd in fa£t and reality, it muft be ab- " furd in idea, fince nothing of which we can *' form a clear and diflindl idea is abfurd or " impoffible." I acknowledge it to be impoffible, that a tri- angle lliould really exift which has no precife proportion of fides and angles ; and impoffible that any being fhould exift which is not an indi- vidual being ; for, I think, a being and an individual being mean the fame thing : But that there can be no attributes common to many individuals, I do not acknowledge. Thus, to many figures that really exift, it may be com- mon that they are triangles ; and to many bo- dies that exift, it may be common that they are fluid. Triangle and fluid are not beings, they are attributes of beings. As to the principle here affumed, that no- thing of which we can form a clear and diftin^l idea is abfurd or impoflible, I refer to what Vol. II. M was i62 ESSAY T. P. was fald upon it, chap. 3. EfTay 4. It is evi- dent, that in every mathematical demonftra- tion, ad abfurduni, of vi^hich kind almoft one half of mathematics confifts, we are required to fuppofe, and confequently to conceive a thing that is impoffible. From that fuppofuion we reafon, until we come to a conclufion that is not only impoffible but abfurd. From this we infer, that the propofition fuppofed at firft is impoflible, and therefore that its contradic- tory is true. As this is the nature of all demonftrations, ad abfurdimi, it is evident, (I do not fay that we can have a clear and diftinct idea,) but that we can clearly and diilindly conceive things impoffible. The reft of Mr. Hume's difcourfe upon this fubjeft is employed in explaining how an indi- vidual idea, annexed to a general term, may ferve all the purpofes in reafoning, which have been afcribed to abftra£t general ideas. " When we have found a refemblance *' among feveral objefts that often occur to us, *' we apply the fame to all of them, whatever " differences we may obferve in the degree of " their quantity and quality, and whatever *' other differences may appear among them. " After we have acquired a cuftom of this *' kind, the hearing of that name revives the " idea of one of thefe objeds, and makes the *' imagination conceive it, with all its circum- ** fiances and proportions." But along with this idea, there is a readinefs to furvey any other of the individuals to which the name be- longs, and to obferve, that no conclufion be formed contrary to any of them. If any fuch * conclufion OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 163 conclufion is formed, thofe individual ideasCHAP which contradid: it, immediately crowd in upon ^^• us, and make us perceive the falsehood of the' propofition. If the mind fugged not always thefe ideas upon occafion, it proceeds from fome imperfection in its faculties ; and fuch a one as is often the fource of falfe reafoning and fophiflry. This is in fubflance the way in which he ac- counts for what he calls " the foregoing para- dox, that fome ideas are particular in their nature, but general in their reprefentation." Upon this account I lliall make fome remarks. I. He allows that we find a refemblance among feveral objects, and fuch a refemblance as leads us to apply the fame name to all of them. This conceifion is fufficient to {hew that we have general conceptions. There can be no refemblance in objects that have no com- mon attribute ; and if there be attributes be- longing in common to feveral objefts, and in man a faculty to obferve and conceive thefe^ and to give names to them, this is to have ge- neral conceptions. I believe indeed we may have an indiftin£l perception of refemblance, without knowing wherein it lies. Thus, I may fee a refemblance between one face and another, v/hen I cannot diflinclly fay in what feature they refemble : But by analyfmg the two faces, and comparing feature with feature, I may form a diflinft no- tion of that which is common to both. A painter, being accuftomed to an analyfis of this kind, would have formed a diilinct notion of this refemblance at firfl fight ; to another man it may require fome attention. M 2 There i64 E S S A Y V. There is therefore an Indiflind notion of re- femblance when we compare the objeds only in grofs ; and this 1 believe brute animals may have. There is alfo a diftinft notion of re- femblance, when we analyfe the objeds into their different attributes., and perceive them to agree in fome, while they differ in others. It is in this cafe only that we give a name to the attributes wherein they agree, which muft be a common name, becaule the thing fignified by it is common. Thus, when I compare cubes of different matter, I perceive them to have this attribute in common, that they are comprehended under fix equal fquares ; and this attribute only, is fignified by applying the name of cube to them all. When I compare clean linen with fnow, I perceive them to agree in colour ; and when I apply the name of white to both, this name fignifies neither fnow nor clean linen, but the attribute which is common to both. 1, The author fays, that when we have found a refemblance among feveral objeds, we apply the fame nam.e to all of them. It muft here be obferved, that there are two kinds of names which the author feems to con- found, though they are very different in nature,, and in the power they have in language. There are proper names, and there are common names or appellatives. The firft are the names of individuals. The fame proper name is ne- ver applied to feveral individuals on account of their fimilitude, becaufe the very intention of a proper name is to diftinguifli one individual from all others ; and hence it is a maxim in grammar, that proper narnes have no plural number. OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 165 number. . A proper name fignifies nothing but CHAP, the individual whofe name it is ; and when we ^^• apply,, it to the individual, we neither affirm ''■^*''»^'*~' nor deny any thing concerning him. A common name or appellative is not the name of any individual, but a general term, lignlfying fomething that is or may be common • to feveral individuals. Common names there- fore fignify common attributes. Thus, when I apply the name of fon or brother to fevera! perfons, this fignihes and affirms that this at- tribute is common to all of them. From this it is evident, that the applying the fame name to feveral individuals, on account of their refemblance, can, in confiftence with grammar and common fenfe, mean nothing elfe than the expreffing by a general term fome- thing that is common to thofe individuals, and which therefore may be truly affirmed of them all. 3. The author fays, " It is certain that we *' form the idea of individuals, Vv'henever we " ufe any general term. The word raifes up " an individual idea, and makes the imagina- " tion conceive it, with all its particular cir- " cumftances and proportions." This fad he takes a great deal of pains to ac- count for, from, the effi^6t of cuftom. But the fact ffiould be afcertained before we take pains to account for it. I can fee no rea- fon to believe the fact ; and I think a farmer can talk of his flieep, and his black cattle, without conceiving, in his imagination one in- dividual, with all its circumftances and pro- portions. If this be true, the whole of his theory of general ideas falls to the ground. To i66 E S S A Y V. C H A P.To me It appears, that when a general term is ^^^- well underflood, it is only by accident if it L.-v-'^ fugged fome individual of the kind ; but this effed: is by no means conflant. I underfcand perfectly what Mathematicians call a line of the fifth order ; yet I never con- ceived in my imagination any one of the kind in all its circumftanr.es and proportions. Sir Isaac Newton hrfh formed a diftincl general conception of lines of the third order j and af- terwards, by great labour and deep penetra- tion found out and defcribed the particular fpecies comprehended under that general term. According to Mr. Hume's theory, he muft firft have been acquainted with the particulars, and then have learned by cuftom to apply one general name to all of them. The author obfervcs, " That the idea of an *' equilateral triangle of an inch perpendicu- ** lar, may ferve us in talking of a figure, a " re£lilinear figure, a regular figure, a trian- *' gle, and an equilateral triangle.'* I anfwer, The man that ufes thefe general terms, either underflands their meaning, or he does not. If he does not underPtand their meaning, all his talk about them v/ill be found only v.ithout fenfe, and the particular idea mentioned cannot enable him to fpeak of them Vi'ith underflanding. If he underflands the meaning of the general terms he will find no vSe for the particular idea. 4. He tells us gravely, " That in a globe of *' white marble the figure and the colour '^ are undiffinguiiliable, and are in cffefl; the " fame." How foollfh have mankind been to give different names, in all ages and in all OPINIONS ABOUT UNIVERSALS. 167 all languages, to things undI{lInguifhable,C HAP. and in effect the fame ? Henceforth, in all t^^Lj books of fcience and of entertainment, we may fubfliitute figure for colour, and co- lour for figure. By this we Ihall make numberlefs curious difcoveries without dan- ger of error. ESSAY iMijj w— jwijjfci ■iilliii.H-HW^«U''3gflrWtT— ^»«'Tr"'"r ESSAY VI. OF JUDGMENT. CHAP. I. Of Judgment in generah JUDGING is an operation of the mind fo familiar to every man who hath under- flanding, and its name is fo common and fo well underffcood, that it needs no definition. As it is impoffible by a definition to give a notion of colour to a man who never faw co- lours ; fo it is impofiible by any definition to give a diftind notion of judgment to a man who has not often judged, and who is not ca- fsable of reflecting attentively upon this a6l of his mind. The bed ufe of a definition is to prompt him to that reflection ; and without it the bed definition will be apt to miflead him. The definition commonly given of judgment, by the more ancient writers in logic, was, that it is an aft of the mind, whereby one thing is affirmed or denied of another. I believe this is as good a definition of it as can be given. Why I prefer it to fome later definitions, will afterwards appear. Without pretending to give any other, I fnall make two remarks upon it, and then offer fome general obfervations on this fubjeft. 1. It OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 169 t. It is true, that it is by affirmation or denial CHAP. that we exprefs our judgments ; but there may , ^^• be judgment which is not expreffed. It is a folitary 2.3. of the mind, and the expreflion of it by affirmation or denial is not at all eflential to it. It may be tacit, and not expreffed. Nay, it is well known that men may judge contrary to what they affirm or deny ; the de- finition therefore mufl be underftood of mental affirmation or denial, which indeed is only another name for judgment. 2. Affirmation and denial is very often the expreffion of tcftimony, which is a different 2.6: of the mind, and ought to be diftinguiffied from judgment. A j udge aiks of a witnefs what he knows of fuch a matter to which he was an eye or ear witnefs. He anfwers, by affirming or denying fomething. But his anfwer does not exprefs his judgment ; it is his teftimony. Again, I afk a man his opinion in a matter of fcience or of criticifm. His anfwer is not teftimony ; it is the expreffion of his judgment. Teftimony is a fecial act, and it is effential to it to be exprefl'ed by words or figns. A tacit teftimony is a contradiftion : But there is no contradi«^ion in a tacit judgment ; it is com- plete without being expreffed. In teftimony a man pledges his veracity for what he affirms ; fo that a falfe teftimony is a lie : But a wrong judgment is not a lie ; it is only an error. I believe, in all languages teftimony and judgment are expreffed by the fame form of fpeech. A propofition affirmative or negative, with a verb in what is called the indicative mood, expreffes both. To diftinguifti them by 170 ESSAY VI. CHAPby the form of fpeech, it would be ncceflary that verbs ilhould have two indicative moods, 'one for teflimony, and another to exprefs judgment. I kntDw not that this is found in any language. "And the reafon is, (not furcly that the vulgar cannot diftinguifh tht* two, for every man knows the difference bietween a lie and an error of judgment), but that, from the matter and circumflances, we can eafily fee whether a man intends to give his teflimony, or barely to exprefs his judgment. Although men mufl have judged in many cafes before tribunals of juflice were erefted, yet it is very probable that there were tribunals before men began to fpeculate about judgment, and that the word may be borrowed from the praftice of tribunals. As a judge, after taking the proper evidence, paffes fentence in a caufe, and that fentence is called his judgment ; fo the mind, with regard to whatever is true or falfe, paffes fentence, or determines according to the evidence that appears. Some kinds of evi- dence leave no room for doubt. Sentence is paffed immediately, without fecking or hear- ing any contrary evidence, becaufe the thing is certain and notorious. In other cafes, there is room for weighing evidence on both fides before fentence is paffed. The analogy be- tween a tribunal of juflice and this inward tri- bunal of the mind, is too obvious to efcape the notice of any man who ever appeared be- fore a judge. And it is probable, that the word judgment, as well as many other words we ufe in fpeaking of this operation of mind, are grounded on this analogy. Having premifed thcfe things, that it may be clearly underflood what I mean by judg- meiit. OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. iji ment, I proceed to make fome general obfer- CHAP, vations concerning it. I- Firji, Judgment is an a£t of the mind fpe- cificaliy different from fimple apprehenfion, or the bare conception of a thing. It would be unncceflary to obferve this, if fome Philofo- phers had not been led by their theories to a contrary opinion. Although there can be no judgment without a conception of the things about which we judge; yet conception may be without any judgment. ' Judgment can be exprefled by a propofition only, and a proportion is a com- plete fentence; but fimple apprehenfion may be expreffed by a word or words, which make no complete fentence. When fimple appre- henfion is employed about a propofition, every man knows that it is one thing to apprehend u propofition, that is, to conceive what it means; but it is quite another thing to judge it to be true or falfe. It is felf-evident, that every judgment mufl be either true or falfe; but fimple apprehen- fion or conception can neither be true nor falfe, as was flicwn before. One judgment may be contradiflory to anr other; and it is impoffible for a man to have two judgments at the fame time, which he perceives to be contradictory. But contradic- tory proportions may be conceived at the fame thiie without any difficulty. That the fun is greater than the earth, and that the fun is not greater than the earth, are contradictory pro- portions. He that apprehends the meaning of one, apprehends the meaning of both. But it is impoffible for him to judge both to be true at the fame time. He knows that if the one is 172 ESSAY VI. C »H A P. IS true, the other mufl be falfe. For thefe rea- ^^^.^r fons, I hold it to be certain, that judgment ^"^^^^ and fimple apprehenfion are ads of the mind fpecifically different. Secondly, There are notions or ideas that ought to be referred to the faculty of judgment as their fource; becaufe, if we had not that faculty, they could not enter into our minds j and to thofe that have that faculty, and are ca- pable of reflefting upon its operations, they are obvious and familiar. Among thefe we may reckon the notion of judgment itfelf ; the notions of a propofition, of its fubject, predicate, and copula; of af- fimation and negation, of true and falfe, of knowledge, belief, difbelief, opinion, alTent, evidence. From no fource could we acquire thefe notions, but from reflefting upon our judgments. Relations of things make one great clafs of our notions or ideas ; ■ and we cannot have the idea of any relation without fome exercife of judgment, as will appear af^ terwards. Thirdly, In perfons come to years of under- ftanding, judgment neceilarily accompanies all fenfation, perception by the fenfes, confciouf- nefs, and memory, but not conception. I reftricl this to perfons come to the years of underftanding, becaufe it may be a quefti- on, whether infants, in the firft period of life, have any judgment or belief at all. The fame queftion may be put with regard to brutes and fome idiots. This queftion is foreign to the prefent fubject; and I fay nothing here about it, but fpeak only of perfons who have the ex- ercife of judgment. In OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 173 In them it Is evident, that a man who feels ^ HAP. pain, judges and beheves that he is really^ ' pained. The man who perceives an objed:, believes that it exifts, and is what he diftindly perceives it to be ; nor is it in his power to avoid iuch judgment. And the like may be faid of memory, and of confcioufnefs. Whe- ther judgment ought to be called a neceffary concomitant of thefe operations, or rather a part or ingredient of them, I do not difpute; but it is certain, that all of them are accom- panied with a determination that fomething is true or falfe, and a confequent belief. If this determination be not judgment, it is an ope- ration that has got no name; for it is not fnn- ple apprehenfion, neither is it reafoning; it is a mental affirmation or negation; it may be exprefled by a proportion affirmative or nega- tive, and it is accompanied with the firmed belief. Thefe are the charaderiflics of judg- ment; and I muft call it judgment, till I can find another name to it. The judgments we form, are either of things neceffary, or of things contingent. That three times three are nine; that the whole is greater than a part; are judgments about things neceffary. Our affent to fuch neceffary propofitions is not grounded upon any opera- tion of fenfe, of memory, or of confcioufnefs, nor does it require their concurrence; it is un- accompanied by any other operation but that of conception, which muft accompany all judgment; we may therefore call this judg- ment of things neceffary pure judgment. Our judgment of things contingent muff always reft upon fome other operation of the mind, fuch as fenfe, or memory, or confcioufnefs, or cre- dit 174 ESSAY Vr. C H A P.dit in teftimony, which is itfelf grounded upon ^* fenfe. ^""^^^^ That I now write upon a table covered with green cloth, is a contingent event, which I judge to be mod undoubtedly true. My judg- ment is grounded upon my perception, and is a necefiary concomitant or ingredient of my perception. That I dined with fuch a compa- ny yeflerday, I judge to be true, becaufe I re- member it; and my judgment neceffarily goes along with this remembrance, or makes a part of it. There are many forms of fpeech in common language which Ihew that the fenfes, memory and confcioufaefs, are confidered as judging faculties. We fay that a man judges of co- lours by his eye, of founds by his ear. We fpeak of the evidence of fenfe, the evidence of memory, the evidence of confcioufnefs. Evi- dence is the ground of judgment, and when we fee evidence, it is impoffiblc not to judge. When we fpeak of feeing or remembering any thing, we indeed hardly ever add that we judge it to be true. But the rcafon of this appears to be, that fuch an addition would be mere fuperfluity of fpeech, becaufe every one knows, that what I fee or remember, I mud judge to be true, and cannot do otherwife. And for the fame reafon, in fpeaking of any thing that is felf evident or flriftly demonftrat- ed, we do not fay that we judge it to be true. This would be fuperfluity of fpeech, becaufe every man knows that we mufh judge that to be true which we hold felf-evident or demon- ftrated. When you fay you faw fuch a thing, or that you diftinclly remember it; or when you fay of OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 175 of any propofition that it is fdf-eviuent, orCHAP. flridly deinonlTirated, it would be ridiculous ^• after this to afk whether you judge it to be true ; ^'^"'^'''^ nor would it be lefs ridiculous in yo\i to inform us that you do. It would be a fuperfluity of fpeech of the fame kind as if, not content with faying that you faw fuch an objedl, you fliould add that you faw it with your eyes. There is therelore good reafon why, in fpeaking or writing, judgment fnould not be exprefsly mentioned, when all men know it to be neceffarily implied ; that is, when there can be no doubt. In fuch cafes, we barely men- tion the evidence. But when the evidence mentioned leaves room for doubt, then, with- out any fuperfluity or tautology, we fay we judge the thing to be fo, becaufe this is not rmplied in what was faid before. A woman with child never fays, that, going fuch a jour- ney, {he carried her child along with her. We know that, while it is in her womb, (he mud carry it along with her. There are fome ope- rations of mind that may be faid to carry judg- ment in their womb, and can no more leave it behind them than the pregnant woman can leave her child. Therefore, in fpeaking of fuch operations, it is not exprefled. Perhaps this manner of fpeaking may have led Philofophers into the opinion, that in per- ception by the fenfes, in memory, and in con- fcioufnefs, there is no judgment at all. Be- caufe it is not mentioned in fpeaking of thefe faculties, they conclude that it does not accom- pany them; that they are only different modes of fnnple apprehenfion, or of acquiring ideas ; and that it is no part of their office to judge. 1 ap- 176 ESSAY VI. CHAP. I apprehend the fame caufe has led Mr. Locke •.^ into a notion of judgment which I take to be peculiar to him.= He thinks that the mind has two faculties converfant about truth and falfe- hood. F/r/2, knowledge; Tind, fecondly, judg- ment. In the firft, the perception of the agree- ment or difagreement of the ideas is certain. In the fecond, it is not certain, but probable only. According to this notion of judgment, it is not by judgment that I perceive that two and three make live ; it is by the faculty, of know- ledge. I apprehend there can be no knowledge without judgment, though there may be judg- ment without that certainty which we common- ly call knowledge. Mr. Locke, in another place of his Effay, tells us, " That the notice we have by our *' fenfes of the exiflence of things without us, " though not altogether fo certain as our in- *' tuitive knowledge, or the deductions of our *' reafon about abflraft ideas, yet is an affu- " ranee that deferves the name of knowledge." I think, by this account of it, and by his de- finitions before given of knowledge and judg- ment, it deferves as wel-l the name of judgment. That I may avoid difputes about the meaning of words, I widi the reader to underfland, that I give the name of judgment to every de- termination of the mind concerning what is true or what is falfe. This, I think, is what Logicians, from the days of Aristotle, have called judgment. Whether it be called one faculty, as I think it has always been, or whe- ther a Philofopher chufes to fplit it into two, feems not very material. And if it be granted, that by our fenfes, our memory and confci- oufnefs, OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 177 oufnefs, we not only have ideas or fimple ap-C H A p. prehenfions, but form determinations concern- I- ing what is true, and what is falfe: whether'" ^^ — ' thefe determinations ought to be called know- ledge or judgment, is of fmall moment. The judgments grounded upon the evidence of fenfe, of memory, and of confcioufnefs, put all men upon a level. The Philofopher, with regard to thefe, has no prerogative above the illiterate, or even above the favage. Their reliance upon the teftimony of thefe faculties is as firm and as well grounded as his. His fuperiority is in judgments of another kind ; in judgments about things abftracl and necef- fary. And he is unwilling to give the name of judgment to that wherein the mofl ignorant and unimproved of the fpecies are his equals. But Philofophers have never been able to give any definition of judgment which does not apply to the determinations of our fenfes, our memory, and confcioufnefs, nor any definition of fimple apprehenfion which can comprehend thofe determinations. Our judgments of this kind are purely the gift of Nature, nor do they admit of improve- ment by culture. The memory of one man may be more tenacious than that of another; but both rely with equal alTurance upon what they diflinftly remember. One man's fight may be more acute, or his feeling more deli- cate than that of another ; but both give equal credit to the diflind teftimony of their fight and touch. And as we have this belief by the confi;i- tution of our nature, without any effort ot our own, fo no effort of ours can overturn it. Vol. II. N The 178 ESSAY VI. CHAP. The Sceptic may perhaps perfuade himfelf ^- in general, that he has no ground to believe ^^■^''^^^his fenfes or his memory: But, in particular cafes that are interefting, his difbelief vanifhes, and he finds himfelf under a neceflity of be- lieving both. Thefe judgments may, in the ftrideft fenfe, be called judgments of nature. Nature has fubje&ed us to them whether we will or not. They are neither got, nor can they be loft by any ufe or abufe of our faculties ; and it is evi- dently necelTary for our prefervation that it fliould be fo. For if belief in our fenfes and in our memory were to be learned by culture, the race of men would perifh before they learned this leflbn. It is neceifary to all men for their being and prefervation, and therefore is un- conditionally given to all men by the Author of Nature. I acknowledge, that if we were to reft in thofe judgments of Nature of which we now fpcak, without building others upon them, they would not entitle us to the denomination of reafonable beings. But yet they ought not to be defpifed, for they are the foundation upon which the grand fuperftrufture of human knowledge muft be raifed. And as in other fuperftruftures the foundation is commonly overlooked, fo it has been in this. The more fublime attainments of the human mind have attraded the attention of Philofophers, while they have beftowed but a carelefs glance upon the humble foundation on which the whole fa- bric refts. A fourth obfervation is, that feme exercife of judgment is neceflary in the formation of all abftract and general conceptions, whether more OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 179 more fimple or more complex ; in dividing, C H A P. in defining, and in general, in forming all ^■ clear and diftin£l conceptions of things, which' are the only fit materials of reafoning. Thefe operations are allied to each other, and therefore I bring them under one obfer- vation. They are more allied to our rational nature than thofe mentioned in the laft obfer- vation, and therefore are confidered by them- felves. That I may not be mifiaken, it may be ob- ferved, that I do not fay that abltraft notions, or other accurate notions of things, after they have been formed, cannot be barely conceived without any exercife of judgment about them. I doubt not that they may : But what I fay, is, that, in their formation in the mind at firft, there mud be fome exercife of judgment. It is impoflible to diftinguifh the different attributes belonging to the fame fubje6i:, with- out judging that they are really different and diflinguifhable, and that they have that relati- on to the fubje6t which Logicians exprefs, by faying that they may be predicated of it. We cannot generalife, without judging that the fame attribute does or may belong to many individuals. It has been {hewn, that our fim- plefl general notions are formed by thefe two operations of diftinguifliing and generalifing ; judgment therefore is cxercifed in forming the fimpleft general notions. In thofe that are more complex, and which have been fliewn to be formed by combining the more fimple, there is another aft of the judgment required ; for fuch combinations are not made at random, but for an end ; and judgment is employed in fitting them to that N 2 end. i«o ESSAY VI. CH A P. end. We form complex "general notions for ^- conveniency of arranging our thoughts in dif- *" ' "" courfe and reafoning ; and therefore, of an infinite number of combinations that might be formed, we chufe only thofe that are ufeful and neceifary. That judgment muft be employed in divid- ing as well as in diltinguifliing, appears evi- dent. It is one thing to divide a fubjeft pro- perly, another to cut it in pieces. Hoc non eji divider e^ fed frangere rem^ faid Cicero, when he cenfured an improper divifion of Epicurus. Reafon has difcovered rules of divifion, which have been known to Logicians more than two thoufand years. There are rules like wife of definition of no lefs antiquity and authority. A man may no doubt divide or define properly without at- tending to the rules, or even without knowing them. But this can only be, when he has judgment to perceive that to be right in a par- ticular cafe, which the rule determines to be right in all cafes. I add in general, that, without fome degree of judgment, we can form no accurate and difiintt notions of things ; fo that, one pro- vince of judgment is, to aid us in forming clear and difiincl conceptions of things, which are the only fit materials for reafoning. This will probably appear to be a paradox to Philofophers, who have always confidered the formation of ideas of every kind as be- longing to fimple apprehenfion ; and that the fole province of judgment is to put them to- gether in afFirmative or negative propofitions ; and therefore it requires fome confirmation. Firjl, OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. i8i Firjl, I think it nece^arily follows, fromCHAP. what has been already laid in this obfervation. For if, without fome degree of judgment, a man can neither diftinguilh, nor divide, nor define, nor form any general notion, fimple or complex, he furely, without fome degree of judgment, cannot have in his mind the ma- terials neceflary to reafoning. There cannot be any propofition in language which does not involve fome general concep- tion. The propofition, that I exiji^ which Des Cartes thought the firft of all truths, and the foundation of all knowledge, cannot be conceived without the conception of exillence, one of the mofl abfiraft general conceptions. A man cannot believe his own exiftence, or the exiftence of any thing he fees or remem- bers, until he has fo much judgment as to dif- tinguifli things that really exift from things which are only conceived. He fees a man fix feet high ; he conceives a man fixty feet high ; he judges the firft object to exift, becaufe h.e fees it ; the fecond he does not judge to exift, becaufe he only conceives it. Now, I would afk. Whether he can attribute exiftence to the firft objed, and not to the fecond, without knowing what exiftence means ? It is impoffi- ble. How early the notion of exiftence enters in- to the mind, I cannot determine ; but it muft certainly be in the mind, as foon as we can affirm of any thing, with underftanding, that it exift s. In every other propofition, the predicate at leaft muft be a general notion ; a predicable and an univerfal being one and the fame. Be- fides this, every propofition either affirms or denies. i83 ESSAY VI. C H A P. denies. And no man can have a dlftlnft con- _ ception of a propofition, who does not under- ftand diftinclly the meaning of affirming or de- nying : But thefe are very general concepti- ons, and, as was before obferved, are derived from judgment, as their fource and origin. I am fenfible that a ftrong objedlion may be made to this reafoning, and that it may feem to lead to an abfurdity, or a contradiction. It may be faid, that every judgment is a men- tal affirmation or negation. If therefore fome previous exercife of judgment be necclTary to underitand what is meant by affirmation or negation, the exercife of judgment mull go before any judgment, which is abfurd. • In like manner, every judgment may beex- prcffed by a propofition, and a propofition mull be conceived before we can judge of it. If therefore we cannot conceive the meaning of a. propofition without a previous exercife of judgment, it follows that judgment muft be previous to the conception of any propofition, and at the fame time that the conception of a propofition muft be previous to all judgment, which is a contradiction. The reader may pleafe to obferve, that I have limited what I have faid to diftinCt con- ception, and fome degree of judgment ; and it is by this means I hope to avoid this laby- rinth of abfurdity and contradiction. The fa- culties of conception and judgment have an infancy and a maturity as man has. What I have faid is limited to their mature flate. I be- lieve in their infant flate they are very weak and indiflinct ; and that, by imperceptible de- grees, they grow to maturity, each giving aid to the other, and receiving aid from it. But which OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 183 which of them firfl began this friendly inter- C HAP. courfe, is beyond my ability to determine. It is like the queflion concerning the bird and the egg- In the prefent ftate of things, it is true that every bird comes from an egg, and every egg from a bird ; and each may be fald to be pre- vious to the other. But if w^e go back to the origin of things, there mufl have been fome bird that did not come from any egg, or fome egg that did not come from any bird. In like manner, in the mature ftate of man, diftind conception of a propofition fuppofes fome previous exercife of judgment, and diflin£l judgment fuppofes diftind: conception. Each may truly be faid to come from the other, as the bird from the egg, aud the egg from the bird. But if we trace back this fuccefiion to its origin, that is, to the firft propofition that was ever conceived by the man, and the firfl judgment he ever formed, I determine nothing about them, nor do I know in what order, or how they were produced, any more than how the bones grow in the womb of her that is with child. The firfl exercife of thefe faculties of con- ception and judgment is hid, like the fources of the Nile, in an unknown region. The necefTity of fome degree of judgment to clear and diftin^l conceptions of things, may, I think, be illuflrated by this fimilitude. An artifl, fuppofe a Carpenter, cannot work in his art without tools, and thefe tools mufl be made by art. The exercife of the art therefore is neceffary to make the tools, and the tools are neceffary to the exercife of the art. There is the fame appearance of contra- didlion, i84 ESSAY VL C H A P-dldlon, as in what I have advanced concerning the necefhty of fome degree of judgment, in order to form clear and diftind conceptions of things. Thefe are the tools we muft ufe in judging and in reafoning, and without them mufl make very bungling work ; yet thefe tools cannot be made without fome exercife of judgment. The neceffity of fome degree of judgment in forming accurate and diftincl notions of things will farther appear, if we confider attentively what notions we can form, without any aid of judgment, of the objefts of fenfe, of the ope- rations of our own minds, or of the relations of things. To begin with the objeds of fcnfc. It is ac- knowledged on all hands, that the firfl notions we have of fenfible objefts are got by the ex- ternal fenfes only, and probably before judg- ment is brought forth j but thefe firfh notions are neither fimple, nor are they accurate and diftinft : They are grofs and indillind, and like the chaos, a rudis indigejiaque moles. Be- fore we can have any ditlinft notion of this mafs, it muft be analyfed ; the heterogeneous parts muft be feparated in our conception, and the fimple elements, which before lay hid in the common mafs, muft firft. be diftinguiihed, and then put together into one whole. In this way it is that we form diliind notions even of the objects of fenfe ; but this analyfis and compofition, by habit, becomes fo eafy, and is performed fo readily, that we are apt to overlook it, and to impute the diftinct notion we have formed of the objecl to the fenfes alone ; and this we are the more prone to do, becaufe, when once we have diftinguijQied the fenfible OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 185 ■fenfible qualities of the objeft from one ano-C HAP. ther, the fenfe gives teitimony to each of ^' them. w- V— ^ You perceive, for inftance, an objeft white, round, and a foot in diameter : 1 grant that you perceive all thefe attributes of the objed by fenfe ; but if you had not been able to dif- tinguifh the colour from the figure, and both from the magnitude, your fenfes would only have given you one complex and confufed no- tion of all thefe mingled together. A man who is able to fay with underftand- ing, or to determine in his own mind, that this objed is white, mud have diftinguiihed whitenefs from other attributes. If he has not made this diflindion, he does not underlland what he fays. Suppofe a cube of brafs to be prefented at the fame time to a child of a year old and to a man. The regularity of the figure will attrad the attention of both. Both have the fenfes of fight and of touch in equal perfeftion ; and therefore, if any thing "be discovered in this object by the man, which cannot be difcovered by the child, it mud be owing, not to the fen- fes, but to fome other faculty which the child has not yet attained. Firjl, then, the man can eafily diftinguifli the body from the furface which terminates it ^ this the child cannot do. Secondly, The man can perceive, that this furface is made up of fix planes of the fame figure and magnitude ; the child cannot difcover this. Thirdly, The man perceives, that each of thefe planes has four equal fides, and four equal angles ; and that the oppofite fides of each plane, and the oppofite planes are parallel. It ESSAY VI. P. It will furely be allowed, that a man of or- dinary judgment may obicrve all this in a cube which he makes an objedt of contemplation, and takes time to confider ; that he may give the name of a fquare, to a plane terminated by four equal fides and four equal angles ; and the name of a cube, to a folid terminated by fix equal fquares ; all this is nothing elfe but anaiyfmg the figure of the objed: prefented to his fenfes into its fimpleft elements, and again compounding it of thofe elements. By this analyfis and compofition, two effeds are produced. Flrji^ From the one complex object which his fenfes prefented, though one of the mofl fimple the fenfes can prefent, he educes many fimple and diftindl notions of right lines, angles, plain furface, folid, equa- lity, parailelifm ; notions which the child has not yet faculties to attain. Secondly^ When he confiders the cube as compounded of thefe elements, put together in a certain order, he has then, and not before, a diftinct and fcien- tific notion of a cube. The child neither con- ceives thofe elements, nor in what order they muft be put together, in order to make a cube ; and therefore has no accurate notion of a cube, which can make it a fubject of reafon- ing. Whence I think we may conclude, that the notion v/hich we have from the fenfes alone, even of the fimpleft objeds of fenfe, is indif- tin6t and incapable of being either defcribed or reafoned upon, until it is analyfed into its fim- ple elements, and confidered as compounded of thofe elements. If we Ihould apply this reafoning to more complex objeds of fenfe, the conclufion would be OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 1B7 be ftill more evident. A dog may be taught CHAP, to turn a jack, but he can never be taught to '• have a diltinft notion of a jack. He fees eve- ry part as well as a man ; but the relation of the parts to one another, and to the whole, he has not judgment to comprehend. A dill inft notion of an objeft, even of fenfe, is never got in an inftant ; but the fenfe per- forms its office in an inftant. Time is not re- fjuired to fee it better, but to analyfe it, to diftinguifli the different parts, and their relati- on to one another, and to the whole. Hence it is, that when any vehement pallion or emotion hinders the cool application of judgment, we get no diftincl notion of an ob- ject, even though the fenfe be long dire£led to it. A man who is put into a panic, by thinking he fees a ghoft, may ftare at it long, without having any diftin£l notion of it ; it is his underftanding, and not his fenfe that is difturbcd by his horror. If he can lay that afidc, judgment immediately enters upon its office, and examines the length and breadth, the colour, and figure, and diftance of the objeft. Of thefe, while his panic lafted, he had no diftinft notion, though his eyes were open all the time. When the eye of fenfe is open, but that of judgment Ihut by a panic, or any violent emo- tion that engroifes the mind, we fee things confufedly, and probably much in the fame manner that brutes and perfecl idiots do, and infants before the ufe of judgment. There are therefore notions of the objects of fenfe which are grofs and indiftinfl: ; and there are others that are diftinO: and fcientific. The i88 ESSAY VI. C H A P. The former may be got from the fenfes alone ; but the latter cannot be obtained without fome ^'"^''"^ degree of judgment. The clear and accurate notions which geo- metry prefents to us of a point, a right line, an angle, a fquare, a circle, of ratios direfl and inverfe, and others of that kind, can find no admittance into a mind that has not fome degree of judgment. They are not properly ideas of the fenfes, nor are they got by com- pounding ideas of the fenfes ; but, by analy- fmg the ideas or notions we get by the fenfes into their fnnpleft elements, and again combi- ning thefe elements into various, accurate, and elegant forms, which the fenfes never did nor can exhibit. Had Mr. Hume attended duly to this, it ought to have prevented a very bold attempt, which he has profecuted through fourteen pa- ges of his Treatife of Human Nature, to prove that geometry is founded upon ideas that are not exact, and axioms that are not precifely true. A Mathematician might be tempted to think, that the man who ferioufly undertakes this has no great acquaintance with geome- try ; but I apprehend it is to be imputed to another caufe, to a zeal for his own fyftem. We fee that even men of genius may be drawn into flrange paradoxes, by an attach- ment to a favourite idol of the underftanding, when it demands fo collly a facrifice. We Proteftants think, that the devotees of the Roman church pay no fmall tribute to her authority, when they renounce their five fenfes in obedience to her decrees. Mr. Hume's devotion OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 189 devotion to his fyflem carries him even to C H A P. trample upon mathematical demonftration. The fundamental articles of his fyflem are, that all the perceptions of the human mind are either imprelTions or ideas ; and that ideas are only faint copies of impreffions. The idea of a right line, therefore, is only a faint copy of fome line that has been feen, or felt by touch ; and the faint copy cannot be more perfed than the original. Now of fuch right lines, it is evident, that the axioms of geometry are not precifely true ; for two lines that are ftraight to our fight or touch may include a fpace, or they may meet in more points than one. If therefore we caunot form any notion of a ftraight line more accurate than that which we have from the fenfes of fight and touch, geo- metry has no folid foundation. If, on the other hand, the geometrical axioms are pre- cifely true, the idea of a right line is not copied from any impreflion of fight or touch, but muft have a different origin, and a more per- fect ftandard. As the Geometrician, by refleding only upon the extenfion and figure of matter, forms a fet of notions more accurate and fcientific than any which the fenfes exhibit ; fo the na- tural Philofopher, refleding upon other attri- butes of matter, forms another fet, fuch as thofe of denfity, quantity of matter, velocity, momentum, fluidity, elafticity, centres of gra- vity, and of ofcillation. Thefe notions are ac- curate and fcientific ; but they cannot enter in- to a mind that has not fome degree of judgment, nor can we make them intelligible to children, until they have fome ripcnefs of underftanding. In navigation, the notions of latitude, lon- gitude, courfe, leeway, cannot be made intel- ligible I90 ESSAY VI. CHAP. Hgible to children ; and fo it is with regard to the terms of every fcience, and of every art about which we can reafon. They have had their five fenfes as perfedl as men, for years before they are capable of diftinguifliing, com- paring, and perceiving the relations of things, lo as to be able to form fuch notions. They acquire the intellcdual powers by a flow pro- grefs, and by imperceptible degrees, and by means of them learn to form diftind: and ac- curate notions of things, which the fenfes could never have imparted. Having faid fo much of the notions we get from the fenfes alone of the objeds of fenfe, let us next confider what notions we can have from confcioufnefs alone of the operations of our minds. Mr. Locke very properly calls confcioufnefs an internal fenfe. It gives the like immediate knowledge of things in the mind, that is, of our own thoughts and feelings, as the fenfes give us of things external. There is this differ- ence, however, that an external objed; may be at reft, and the fenfe may be employed about it for fome time. But the objefts of confcioufnefs are never at reft ; the ftrcam of thought flows like a river, without ftopping a moment ; the whole train of thought pafl'es in fuccellion under the eye of confcioufnefs, which is always employed about the prefent. But is it confcioufnefs that analyfes complex operations, diftinguiflies their different ingre- dients, and combines them in diftin6t parcels under general names ? This furely is not the work of confcioufnefs, nor can it be performed without refiedion, recolleding and judging of what we were confcious of, and diftindly re- member. OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 191 member. This refleftion does not appear in^ HAP, children. Of all the powers of the mind, it feems to be of the lateft growth, whereas con- fcioufnefs is coeval with the earliefl. Confcioufnefs, being a kind of internal fenfe, can no more give us diftind: and accurate no- tions of the operations of our minds, than the external fenfes can give of external objefts. Reflection upon the operations of our minds is the fame kind of operation with that by which we form diftincl notions of external objeds. They differ not in their nature, but in this only, that one is employed about external, and the other about internal objefts ; and both may, with equal propriety, be called re- flexion. Mr. Locke has reft:ri6ted the word refleftion to that which is employed about the operations of our minds, without any authority, as I think, from cufliom, the arbiter of language : For furely I may refle6l upon what I have feen or heard, as well as upon what I have thought. The word, in its proper and common meaning, is equally applicable to objedls of fenfe, and to objects of confcioufnefs. He has likewife con- founded reflexion with confcioufnefs, and feems not to have been aware that they are different powers, and appear at very different periods of life. If that eminent Philofopher had been aware of thefe miftakes about the meaning of the word refledion, he would, I think, have feen, that as it is by reflection upon the operations of our own minds that we can form any diflind and accurate notions of them, and not by con- fcioufnefs without reflection ; fo it is by reflec- tion upon the objects of fenfe, and not by the fenfes 192 ESSAY Vf. CHAP, fenfes without refleclion, that we can form dif- J;^ tinft notions of them. Refleftion upon any- thing, whether external or internal, makes it an objecl of our intelledual powers, by which we furvey it on all fides, and form fuch judg- ments about it as appear to be jufl and true. 1 propofed, in the third place, to confider our notions of the relations of things : And here I think, that, without judgment we can- not have any notion of relations. There are two ways in which we get the no- tion of relations. The firft is, by comparing the related objects, when we have before had the conception of both. By this comparifon, we perceive the relation, either immediately, or by a procefs of reafoning. That my foot is longer than my finger, I perceive immedi- ately; and that three is the half of fix. This immediate perception is immediate and intui- tive judgment. That the angles at the bafe of an ifofceles triangle are equal, I perceive by a procefs of reafoning, in which it will be ac- knowledged there is judgment. Another way in which we get the notion of relations (which feems not to have occurred to Mr. Locke) is, when, by attention to one of the related objeds, we perceive or judge, that it muft, from its nature, have a certain rela- tion to fomething elfe, which before perhaps we never thought of; and thus our attention to one of the related objects produces the notion of a correlate, and of a certain relation between them. Thus, when I attend to colour, figure, weight, I cannot help judging thefe to be qua- lities which cannot exiil without a fubjed: ; that is, fomething which is coloured, figured, heavy. OF JUDGMENT IN GENERAL. 193 heavy. If I had not perceived fuch things to C H A P. be quahties, I fhould never have had any no- '• tion of their fubjed or of their relation to it. ""^"^"^"^ By attending to the operations of thinking, memory, reaioning, we perceive or judge, that there mufl be fomething which thinks, re- members, and reafons, which we call the mind. When we attend to any change that happens in Nature, judgment informs us, that there mufl be a caufe of this change, which had power to produce it ; and thus we get the notions of caufe and efFe£t, and of the relation between them. When we attend to body, we perceive that it cannot exift without fpace ; hence we get the notion of fpace, (which is neither an objeft of fenfe nor of con- fcioufnefs), and of the relation which bodies have to a certain portion of unhmited fpace, as their place. I apprehend therefore, that all our notions of relations may more properly be afcribed to judgment as their fource and origin, than to any other power of the mind. We mufl firfl perceive relations by our judgment, be- fore we can conceive them without judging of them ; as we mufl firft perceive colours by fight, before we can conceive them without fee- ing them. I think Mr. Locke, when he comes to fpeak of the ideas of relations, does not fay that they are ideas of fenfation or reflection, but only that they terminate in and are concerned about ideas of fenfation or re- fleftion. The notions of unity and number are fo abflra6l, that it is impolTible they fhould enter into the mind until it has fome degree of judg- ' Vol. II. O ment. 194 ESSAY VI. CHAP, ment. We fee with what difficulty, and how ,^^_/;;^ flowly, children learn to ufe, with underftand- ing, the names even of fmall numbers, and how they exult in this acquifition when they have attained it. Every number is conceived by the relation which it bears to unity, or to known combinations of units ; and upon that account, as well as on account of its abflraft nature, all diflinft notions of it require fome degree of judgment. In its proper place, I j[hall have occafion to fhow, that judgment is an ingredient in all determinations of tafte ; in all moral determi- nations ; and in many of our paffions and af- fections. So that this operation, after we come to have any exercife of judgment, mixes with mod of the operations of our minds, and, in analyfmg them., cannot be overlooked without confufion and error. CHAP. OF COMMON SENSE. 195 CHAP. CHAP. I[. "• Of Common Senfe. THE word, fenfe, m common language, feems to have a different meaning from that which it has in the writings of Philofo- phers ; and thofe different meanings are apt to be confounded, and to occafion embarraf- -ment and error. Not to go back to ancient philofophy upon this point, modern Philofophers confider fenfe as a power that has nothing to do with judg- ment. Senfe they confider as the power by which we receive certain ideas or impreflions from objeds ; and judgment as the power by which we compare thofe ideas, and perceive their neceifary agreements and difagreements. The external fenfes give us the idea of co- lour, figure, found, and other qualities of bo- dy, primary or fecondary. Mr. Locke gave the name of an internal fenfe to confcioufnefs, becaufe by it we have the ideas of thought, memory, reafoning, and other operations of our own minds. Dr. Hutchison of Glaf- gow, conceiving that we have fimple and ori- ginal ideas which cannot be imputed either to the external fenfes, or to confcioufnefs, intro- duced other internal fenfes ; fuch as the fenfe of harmony, the fenfe of beauty, and the mo- ral fenfe. Ancient Philofophers alfo fpake of internal fenfes, of which memory was account- ed one. But all thefe fenfes, whether external or in- ternal, have been reprefented by Philofophers, as the means of furnifliing our minds with O 2 ideas. 196 ESSAY VI. C H A P. ideas, without including any kind of judg- ^^- ment. Dr. Hutcheson defines a fenfe to be a determination of the mind to receive any idea from the prefence of an objeft independent on our will. " By this term (fenfe) Philofophers in ge- '•^ neral have denominated thofe faculties, in '' confequence of which we are hable to feel- " ings relative to ourfelves only, and from *' which they have not pretended to draw any " conclufions concerning the nature of things ; " whereas truth is not relative, but abfolute " and real. Dr. Priestly's Exam, of Dr. " Rkid, ^c. page 123. / On the contrary, in common language, fenfe always implies judgment. A man of fenfe Is a man of judgment. Good fenfe is good judgm.ent. Nonfenfe is what is evi- dently contrary to right judgment. Common fenfe is that degree of judgment which Is com- mon to men with whom we can converfe and tranfa£l bufinefs. Seeing and hearing by Philofophers are cal- led fenfes, becaufe we have ideas by them ; by the vulgar they are called fenfes,* becaufe we judge by them. We judge of colours by the eye : of founds by the ear ; of beauty and deformity by tafte ; of right and wrong in condudl, by our moral fenfe or confcience. Sometimes Philofophers, who reprefent it as the fole province of fenfe to furnilh us witl> ideas, fall unawares into the popular opinion^ that they are judging faculties. Thus Locke, book 4. chap. it. " And of this, (that the " quality or accldtnt of colour doth really ex- " ift, and hath a being without me,) the grea- " teft alfurance I can poffibly have, and to '* which OF COMMON SENSE. 197 " which my faculties can attain, is the tefti-C H A P. " mony of my eyes, whick are the proper and ^^• " fole judges of this thing." "-^ '^ ' This popular meaning of the word fc?ife is not peculiar to the Englifh language. The correfponding words in Greek,, Latin, and I believe in all the European languages, have the fame latitude. The Latin words /entire, fententia^ fenfa, fenfiis, from the laft ot which the Englifh word y^-w/^ is borrowed, exprefs judgment or opinion, and are applied indiffe- rently to objefts of external fenfe, of tafle, of morals, and of the underftanding. I cannot pretend to aflign the reafon why a word, which is no term of art, which is fami- liar in common converfation, fliould have {o different a meaning in philofophical writings. I fhall only obferve, that the philofophical meaning correfponds perfectly with the account which Mr. Locke and other modern Philofo- phers give of judgment. For if the fole pro- vince of the fenfes, external and internal, be to furniili the mind with the ideas about which we judge and reafon, it feems to be a natural confequence, that the fole province of judg- ment (hould be to compare thofe ideas, and to perceive their rieceffary relations. Thefe two opinions feem to be fo connefted, that one may have been the caufe of the other. I apprehend, however, that if both be true, there is no room left for any knowledge or judgment, either of the real exiftence of con- tingent things, or of their contingent relations. To return to the popular meaning of the word fenfe. I believe it would be much more difficult to find good authors who never ufe it in that meaning, than to find fuch as do. We 19^ ESSAY VI. CHAP. We may take Mr. Pope as good authority ^^- for the meaning of ^n -Englifli word. He ufes ^""'"'''''^ it often, and in his Epiflle to the Earl of Bur- lington, has made a little defcar^t upon it. " Oft have you hinted to your brother Peer, " A certain truth, which many buy too dear; " Something there is more needful than ex- " pence, " And fomething previous ev'n to tafle, — 'tis " fenfe. " Good fenfe, which only is the gift of Hea- " ven; " And though no fcience, fairly worth the " feven ; " A hght, which in yourfelf you mufl perceive, " Jones and Le Notre have it not to give. This inward light or fenfe is given by Heaven to different perfons in different degrees. There is a certain degree of it which is neceffary to our being fubjeds of law and government, ca- pable of managing our own affairs, and an- fwerable for our conduct towards others: This is called common fenfe, becaufe it is common to all men with whom we can tranfafl bufmefs, or call to account for their conduft. The laws of all civiiifed nations diftinguilh thofe who have this gift of Heaven, from thofe who have it not. The lafl may have rights which ought not to be violated, but having no underfiianding in themfelves to direct their ac- tions, the laws appoint them to be guided by the underftanding of others. It is eafily dil- cerjied by its effects in mens actions, in their fpeeches, and even in their looks j and when it OF COMMON SENSE. 199 it Is made a queftion, whether a man has thls^ H A P* natural gift or not, a judge or a jury, upon a ^^„^ fhort converfation with him, can, for the moft part, determine the queftion with great alTu- rance. The fame degree of underflanding which makes a man capable of acting with common prudence in the conduct of life, makes him capable of difcovering what is true and what is falfe in matters that are felf-evident, and which he diltindly apprehends. All knowledge, and all fcience, mufl be built upon principles that are felf-evident; and of fuch principles, every man who has common fenfe is a competent judge, when he conceives them diftinclly. Hence it is, that difputes very often terminate in an appeal to common fenfe. While the parties agree in the firfi: principles on which their arguments are grounded, there is room for reafoning; but when one denies what to the other appears too evident to need, or to admit of proof, reafoning feems to be at an end ; an appeal is made to common fenfe, and each party is left to enjoy his own opinion. There feems to be no 'remedy for this, nor any way left to difcufs fuch appeals, unlefs the decifions of common fenfe can be brought into a code, in which all reafonable men ihall ac- quiefce. This indeed, if it be poffible, would be very defirable, and would fupply a defide- ratum in logic ; and why fliould it be thought impolfible that reafonable men fliould agree in things that are felf-evident? All that is intended in this chapter, is to ex- plain the meaning of common fenfe, that it may 200 ESSAY VI. C H A P. may not be treated, as it has been by fome, as a new principle, or as a word without any meaning. I have endeavoured to fhew, that fenfe, in its mofl common, and therefore its mofl proper meaning, fignifies judgment, though Philofophers often ufe it in another meaning. From this it is natural to think, that common fenfe Ihould mean common judg- ment ; and lb it really does. What the precife limits are which divide com- mon judgment from what is beyond it on the one hand, and from what falls fhort of it on the other, may be difficult to determine ; and men may agree in the meaning of the word ■who have different opinions about thofe limits, or who even never thought of fi^xing them. This is as intelligible as, that all Engliflimen fhould mean the fame thing by the county of York, though perhaps not a hundredth part of them can point out its precife limits. Indeed, it feems to me, that common fenfe is as unambiguous a word, and as well under- ftood as the county of York. We find it in innumerable places in good writers; we hear it on innumerable occafions in converfation ; and, as far as I am able to judge, always in the fame meaning. And this is probably the reafon why it is fo feldom defined or explained. Dr. Johnson, in the authorities he gives, to fhew that the word fenfe fignifies underlfand- ing, foundnefs of faculties, flrength of natu- ral reafon, quotes Dr. Bentley for what may be called a definition of common fenfe, though probably not intended for that purpofe, but mentioned accidentally: " God hath endowed " mankind with power and abilities, which we " call OF COMMON SENSE. . 201 " call natural light and reafon, and common CHAP. " fenfe." "• It is true, that common fenfe is a popular, and not a fcholaftic word ; and by moft of thofe who have treated fyftematically of the powers of the underftanding, it is only occafionally mentioned, as it is by other writers. But I re- collect two philofophical writers, who are ex- ceptions to this remark. One is Buffier, who treated largely of common fenfe, ' as a principle of knowledge, above fifty years ago. The other is Bifhop Berkeley, who, I think, has laid as much ftrefs upon common fenfe, in oppofition to the dodlrines of Philo- fophers, as any Philofopher that has come after him. If the reader chufes to look back to Effay II. chap. 10. he will be fatisfied of this, from the quotations there made for another purpofe, which it is unneceffary here to re- peat. Men rarely afk v,^hat common fenfe Is ; be- caufe every man believes himfelf poifefled of it, and would take it for an imputation upon his underftanding to be thought unacquainted with it. Yet I remember two very eminent authors who have put this queftion; and it is not improper to hear their fentiments upon a fubjeft fo frequently mentioned, and fo rarely canvafled. It is well known, that Lord Shaftesbury gave to one of his Treatifes the title of Senfus Com?nunis ; an EJfay on the freedom of wit and humour, in a letter to a friend; in which he puts his friend in mind of a free converfation with fome of their friends on the fubjeds of morality and religion. i\midft the difi'erent opinions ftarted and maintained with great life 202 ESSAY VL C HA riife and ingenuity, one or other would every , now and then take the liberty to appeal to com- ' ~ mon fenfe. Fvery one allowed the appeal ; no one would offer to call the authority of the court in queiiion, till a gentleman, whofe good underftanding was never yet brought in doubt, defired the company very gravely that they would tell him what common fcnfe was. " If, faid he, by the word fenfe, we were to "'^nderftand opinion and judgment and by. " the word conwion, the generality, or any ** confiderable part of mankind, it would be *' hard to difcover where the fubjeft of com- *' mon fenfe could lie ; for that which was ac- " cording to the fenfe of one part of mankind, *' was agairift the fenfe of another : And if *' the majority were to determine common " fenfe, it would change as often as men " changed. That in religion, common fenfe " was as hard to determine as catholic or ortho- *' dox. What to one was abfurdity, to ano- " ther was demonltration. " In policy, if plain Britifh or Dutch fenfe *' were right, Turkiili and French muft cer- " tainly be wrong. And as mere nonfenfe, *' as pallive obedience feemed, we found it to " be the common fenfe of a great party '' amongfl ourfelves, agreater party in Europe, *' and perhaps the greateft part of all the /*' world befides. As for morals, the differ- " ence was flill wider ; for even the Philofo- " phers' could never agree in one and the fame " fyftem. And fome even of our moft admi- " red modern Philofophers had fairly told us, " that virtue and vice had no other law or " meafure than mere fafliion and vogue." This OF COMMON SENSE. 203 ] This is the fubftance of the gentleman's C H A P fpeech, which, I apprehend, explains the ^^- meaning of the word perfectly, and contains " all that has been faid, or can be faid againft the authority of common fenfe, and the pro- priety of appeals to it. As there is no mention of any anfwer imme- diately to this fpeech, we might be apt to con- clude, that the noble author adopted the /en- timents of the intelligent gentleman, whofe fpeech he recites. But the contrary is manifeft, from the title of Senfus Conwiunis given to his Effay, from his frequent ufe of the word, and from the whole tenor of the Eflay. The author appears to have a double inten- tion in that Eflay, correfponding to the double title prefixed to it. One intention is, to jufl:ify the ufe of wit, humour, and ridicule, in dif- cufling among friends the graveft fubjeds. " I can very well fuppofe, fays he, men may " be frighted out of their wits ; but I have no " apprehenfion they Ihould be laughed out of " them. I can hardly imagine, that, in a " pleafant way, they fliould ever be talked out " of their love for fociety, or reafoned out of " humanity and common fenfe.'* The other intention fignified by the title Senfus Communis, is carried on hand in hand with the firft, and is to fliew, that common fenfe is not fo vague and uncertain a thing as it is reprefented to be in the fceptical fpeech before recited. "I will try,'* fays he, " what " certain knowledge or aflurance of things " may be recovered in that very way, (to wit, *' of humour,) by which all certainty, you " thought, was loft, and an endlefs fcepticifm '' introduced." He 204 ESSAY VI. CHAP. He gives fome criticifms upon the word feft' ^^ • /us communis in Juvenal, Horace, and Se- NECA ; and after fliewing, in a facetious way throughout the Treatife, that the fundamental principles of morals, of politics, of criticifm, and of every branch of knowledge, are the didates of common fenfe, he fums up the whole in thefe words : " That fome moral and philofophical truths there are fo evident in themfelves, that it would be eafier to ima- gine half mankind run mad, and joined pre- cifely in the fame fpecies of folly, than to admit any thing as truth, which fhould be advanced againlt fuch natural knowledge, fundamental reafon, and common fenfe.'* And, on taking leave, he adds : " And now, my friend, fliould you find I had moralifed in any tolerable manner, according to com- mon fenfe, and without canting, I fhould be fatisfied with my performance." Another eminent writer who has put the queflion what common fenfe is, is Fenelon, the famous Archbifhop of Cambray. That ingenious and pious author, having had an early prepofleffion in favour of the Car- tefian philofophy, made an attempt to eftablifli, on a fure foundation, the metaphyfical argu- ments which Des Cartes had invented to prove the being of the Deity. For this pur- pofe, he begins with the Cartefian doubt. He proceeds to find out the truth of his own exifl- ence, and then to examine wherein the evi- dence and certainty of this and other fuch pri- mary truths confided. This, according to Cartefian principles, he places in the clearnefs and difl:ind;nefs of the ideas. On the contrary, he OF COMMON SENSE. 205 iie places the abfurdity of the contrary propo-^ HAP. fitions, in their being repugnant to his clear ^ and diflindl ideas. To illuflrate this, he gives various examples of queftions manifeftly abfurd and ridiculous, which every man of common underflanding would at firft fight perceive to be fo, and then goes on to this purpofe. " What is it that makes thefe queftions ri- *' diculous ? Wherein does this ridicule pre- " cifely confift ? It will perhaps be replied, " that it confifts in this, that they fhock com- " mon fenfe. But what is the fame common " fenfe ? It is not the firft notions that all " men have equally of the fame things. 'Ihis " common fenfe, which is always and in all " places the fame ; which prevents enquiry ; " which makes enquiry in fome cafes ridicu- *' lous ; which, inftead of enquiring, makes a " man laugh whether he will or not ; which " puts it out of a man's power to doubt ; this " fenfe, which only waits to be confulted ; " which fhows itfelf at the firft glance, and " immediately difcovers the evidence or the " abfurdity of a queftion j is not this the fame *' that I call my ideas ? " Behold then thofe ideas or general no- '* tions which it is not in my power either to *' contradid or examme, and by which I " examine and decide in every cafe, infomuch " that I laugh inftead of anfw ering, as often " as any thing is propofed to me, which is " evidently contrary to wiiat thefe immutable " ideas reprefent." I ftiall only obfervc upon this pafTage, that the interpretation it gives oi Dtn C/^RXts cri- terion 2o6 ESSAY VL C H A P.terion of truth, whether jufl: or not, is the ^^- mod intelligible and the mofl favourable I ^^^ have met with. I beg leave to mention one paffage from Cicero, and to add two or three from late writers, which fliow that this word is not be- come obfolete, nor has changed its meaning. De Oratore, lib. 3. " Orrtnes enim tacito " quodam fenfu, fine ulla arte aut ratione, " in artibus ac rationibus, recta ac prava " dijudicant. Idque cum faciant in pifturis, " et in fignis, et in aliis operibus, ad quorum " intelligentiam a natura minus habent in- *' ftrumenti, tum multo oflendunt magis in *' verborum, fiumerorum, vocumque judi- " cio ; quod ea fint in communibus infixa " fenfibus ; neque earura rerum quemqucim *' lunditus natura voluit expertem." Hume's Effays and Treatifes, vol. i. p. 5. " But a Philofopher v/ho propofes only to re- " prefeht the common fenfe of mankind in " more beautiful and more engaging colours, " if by accident he commits a miflake, goes *' no farther, but renewing his appeal to com- " mon fenfe, and the natural fentiments of " the mind, returns into the right path, and " fecures himfelf from any dangerous illu- " fion. Hume's Enquiry concerning the Principles of Morals, p. 2. " Thofe who have refufed " the reality of moral diflinftions may be *' ranked among tTie difmgenuous difputants. " The only way of converting an antagoniit " of this kind is to leave him to himfelf: For, finding that nobody keeps up the controver- fy with him, 'tis probable he will at laft, of " himfelf, a OF COMMON SENSE. 207 " himfelf, from mere wearinefs, come overCHAP. " to the fide of common fenfe and reafon.'* ^^• Priestly's Inftitutes, Prelim. Eflay, vol. ^^^^'"'^ I. p. 27. " Becaufe common fenfe is a fuf- *' ficient guard againll many errors in religion, " it feems to have been taken for granted, " that that common fenfe is a fufficient inflruc- " tor alfo, whereas in fa6t, without pofitive in- " ftrudtion, men would naturally have been " mere favages with refped to religion; as, " without fimilar in{lru6lion, they would be *' favages with refped to the arts of life and *' the fciences. Common fenfe can only be " compared to a judge; but what can a judge *' do without evidence and proper materials *' from which to form a judgment? Priestly's Examination of Dr. Reid, '<3'c, page 127. " But fhouidwe, out of complai- " fance, admit that what has hitherto been " called judgment may be called fenfe, it is *' making too free with the eftablifhed figni- *' fication of words to call it common fenfe, " which, in common acceptation, has long " been appropriated to a very different thing, *' viz. To that capacity for judging of com- *' mon things that perfons of middling capa- *' cities are capable of." Page 1.9. "I fliould *' therefore exped:, that if a man was fo totally *' deprived of common fenfe as not to be able " to diftinguifh truth from falfehood in one " cafe, he would be equally incapable of dif- ** tinguifhing it in another.*' From this cloud of teftimonies, to which hundreds might be added, I apprehend, that whatever cenfure is thrown upon thofe who have fpoke of common fenfe as a principle of know- 2o8 ESSAY VI. ^ ^r^ ^' knowledge, or who have appeald to it in mat- ^^V^^ ters that are felf-evident, will fall light, when there are fo many to fhare in it. Indeed, the authority of this tribunal is too facred and ve- nerable, and has prefcription too long in its favour to be now wifely called in queftion. Thofe who are difpofed to do fo, may remem- ber the fhrewd faying of Mr. Hobbes, *' When reafon is againfl a man, a man will " be againfl reafon." This is equally appli- cable to common fenfe. From the account I have given of the mean- ing of this term, it is eafy to judge both of the proper ufe and of the abufe of it. It is abfurd to conceive that there can be any oppofition between reafon and common fenfe. It is indeed the firft-born of reafon, and as they are commonly joined together ^in fpeech and in writing, they are infeparable in their nature. We afcribe to reafon two offices, or two de- grees. The firil is to judge of things felf- evident ; the fecond to draw conclufions that are not felf-evident from thofe that are. The firft of thefe is the province, and the fole pro- vince of common fenfe; and therefore it coin- cides with reafon in its whole extent, and is only another name for one branch or one de- gree of reafon. Perhaps it may be faid, Why then fliould you give it a particular name, fmce it is acknowledged to be only a degree of rea- fon? It would be a fufficient anfwer to this. Why do you aboh(h a name which is to be found in the language of all civilized nations, and has acquired a right by prefcription ? Such an attempt is equally foolifh and ineffeftual. Every wife man will be apt to think, that a name OF COMMON SENSE. 209 name which is found in all languages as far C H A p, back as we can trace them, is not without ^^• fome ufe. But there is an obvious reafon why this de- gree of reafon fhould have a name appropri- ated to it; and that is, that in the greatefl part of mankind no other degree of reafon is to be found. It is this degree that entitles them to the denomination of reafonable crea- tures. It is this degree of reafon, and this only, that makes a man capable of managing his own affairs, and anfwerable for his conduct towards others. There is therefore the beft reafon why it fhould have a name appropriated to it. Thefe two degrees of reafon diifer In other refpedts, which would be fufficient to entitle them to diftindl names. The firft is purely the gift of Heaven. And where Heaven has not given it, no education can fupply the want. The fecond is learned by practice and rules, when the firft is not wanting. A man who has common fenfe may be taught to reafon. But if he has not that gift, no teaching will make him able either to judge of firft principles or to reafon from them. I have only this farther to obferve, that the province of common fenfe is more extenfive in refutation than in confirmation. A con- clufion drawn by a train of juft reafcning from true principles cannot poflibly contradift any decifion of common fenfe, becaufe truth will always be confiftent with itfelf. Neither can fuch a conclufion receive any confirmation from common fenfe, becaufe it is not within its jurifdidion. Vol. 11. P But 210 ESSAY VI. But it is poflible, that, by fetting out from falfe principles, or by an error in reafoning, a man may be led to a conclufion that contra- dicts the decifions of common fenfe. In this cafe, the conclufion is within the jurifdiclion of common fenfe, though the reafoning on which it was grounded be not; and a man of common fenfe may fairly rejedt the conclufion, without being able to fhew the error of the reafoning that led to it. Thus, if a Mathematician, by a procefs of intricate demonflration, in which fome falfe flep was made, fhould be brought to this con- clufion, that two quantities, which are both equal to a third, are not equal to each other, a man of common fenfe, without pretending to be a judge of the demonflration, is well en- titled to reje6l the conclufion, and to pronounce it abfurd. CHAP. SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 211 CHAP. III. Sentiments of Philofophers concerning judgment. A DIFFERENCE about the meaning of JTjL. ^ word ought not to occafion difputes among Philofophers : But it is often very pro- per to take notice of fuch differences, in order to prevent verbal difputes. There are, indeed, no words in language more liable to ambiguity than thofe by which we exprefs the operations of the mind ; and the mofl candid and judici- ous may fometimes be led into different opini- ons about their precife meaning. I hinted before what I take to be a peculiarity in Mr. Locke with regard to the meaning of the word judgment, and mentioned what I ap- prehend may have led him into it. But let us hear himfelf ; Effay, book 4. chap. 14. " The " faculty which God has given to man to fup- " ply the want of clear and certain knowledge, " where that cannot be had, is judgment; " whereby the mind takes its ideas to agree " or difagree ; or, which is the fame, any pro- " pofition to be true or falfe, without perceiv- " ing a demonftrative evidence in the proofs. *' Thus the mind has two faculties, converfant " about truth and falfehood. Firji^ Know- " ledge, whereby it certainly perceives, and " is undoubtedly fatisfied of the agreement " or difagreement of any ideas. Secondly^ " Judgment, which is the putting ideas to- " gether, or feparating them from one another " in the mind, when their certain agreement P 2 "or I ^ 212 ESSAY VL CHAP.*' or difagreement is not perceived, but pre- "t- " fumed to be fo.'* " ^ Knowledge, I think, fometiines fignifies things known ; fometimes that aft of" the mind by which we know them. And in Hke man- ner opinion fometimes fignifies things beUeved ; fometimes the act of the mind by which we be- lieve them. But judgment is the faculty which is exercifed in both thefe ads of the mind. In knowledge, we judge without doubting ; in opinion, with fome mixture of doubt. But I knov/ no authority, befides that of Mr. Locke, for calling knowledge a faculty, any more than for calling opinion a faculty. Neither do I think that knowledge is confi- ned within the narrow limits which Mr. Locke afligns to it ; becaufe the far greateft part of what all men call human knowledge, is in things which neither admit of intuitive nor of demonltrative proof. I have all along ufed the word judgment in a more extended fenfe than Mr. Locke does in the paffage above mentioned. I underftand by it that operation of the mind, by which we de- termine, concerning any thing that may be expreifed by a propofition, whether it be true or falfe. Every propofition is either true or / falfe ; fo is every judgment. A propofition may be fimply conceived without judging of It. But when there is not only a conception of the propofition, but a mental affirmation or nega- tion, an affent or diifent of the underftanding, whether weak or (Irong, that is judgment. I think, that fmce the days of Aristotle, Logicians have taken the word in that fenfe, and other writers, for the mofl part, though there ^O SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 213 there are other meanings, which there is noC HAP. danger of confounding with this. o^lr^ We may take the authority of Dr. Isaac Watts, as a Logician, as a man who under- ftood Englifh, and who had a jufl efteem of Mr. Locke's Efiay. Logic. Introd. page 5, " Judgment is that operation of the mind, " wherein we join two or more ideas together *' by one affirmation or negation ; that is, we *' either affirm or deny ibis to be that. So " ibis tree is high ; that horfe is not fiuift ; the, " mind of man is a think itig being ; mere matter " has no thought belonging to it ; God is juji ; *' good men are often miferable in this world ; a " righteous governor will make a difference be- " twixt the evil and the good ; which fentences " are the effis6l of judgment, and are called " propofitions.'* And part 2. chap. 2. fe£t. 9. " The evidence of fenfe is, when we frame a " propofition according to the dictate of any " of our fenfes. So we judge, that grafs is '' green ; that a trumpet gives a pic af ant found ; *' that fire hums wood ; water is foft ; and " iron hard,** In this meaning, judgment extends to every kind of evidence, probable or certain, and to every degree of aflent or difient. It extends to all knowledge as well as to all opinion ; with this difference only, that in knowledge it is more firm and fteady, like a houfe founded upon a rock. In opinion it uands upon a weaker foundation, and is more liable to be • fhaken and overturned. Thefe differences about the meaning of words are not mentioned as if truth was on one fide, and error on the other, but as an apol^)- gy for deviating in this inftance from the p^ra- feJlogy 214 ESSAY VI. C H A P.feology of Mr. Locke, which fs for the moft • part accurate and diflinft ; and becaufe atten- tion to the different meanings that are put up- on words by different authors is the beft way to prevent our miftaking verbal differences for real differences of opinion. The common theory concerning ideas natu- rally leads to a theory concerning judgment, which may be a proper teft of its truth ; for as they are neceffarily conneded, they muff ftand or fall together : Their connexion is thus ex- preffed by Mr. Locke, book 4. chap. i. " Since the mind, in all its thoughts and rea- " fonings, hath no other immediate object " but its own ideas, which it alone does, or " can contemplate, it is evident that our " knowledge is only converfant about them. *' Knowledge then feems to me to be nothing " but the perception of the conne6lion^ and agree- " ment or difagreement and repugnancy of any " of our ideas, hi this alone it confifts.^' There can only be one objeftion to the juf- tice of this inference ; and that is, that the an- tecedent propofition from which it is inferred, feems to have fome ambiguity : For, in the firfl: claufe of that propofition, the mind is faid to have no other immediate objeft but its own ideas ; in the fecond, that it has no other objed at all ; that it does or can contemplate ideas alone. If the word immediate in the firft: claufe be a mere expletive, and be not intended to limit the generality of the propofition, then the two claufes will be perfedly confiftent, the fecond being only a repetition or explication of the 5rft ; and the inference that our knowledge is orJy converfant about ideas, will be perfedly juft -ind logical. But SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 215 But if the word immediate in the firfl: claufe CHAP, be intended to limit the general proportion, and to imply, that the mind has other objc6ts befides its own ideas, though no other imme- diate objeds ; then it will not be true that it does or can contemplate ideas alone ; nor will the inference be juflly drawn, that our know- ledge is only converfant about ideas. Mr. Locke mud either have meant his an- tecedent propofition, without any limitation by the word immediate, or he mull have meant to limit it by that word, and to fignify that there are objeds of the mind which are not ideas. The firft of thefe fuppofitions appears to mc moft probable, for feveral reafons. Firji, Becaufe, when he purpofely defines the word idea, in the introduction to the Effay, he fays it is whatfoever is the objedl of the un- derftanding when a man thinks ; or whatever the mind can be employed about in thinking. Here there is no room left for objeds of the mind that are not ideas. The fame definition is often repeated throughout the Effay. Some- times, indeed, the word immediate is added, as in the paiTage now under confideration ; but there is no intimation made that it ought to be underftood when it is not expreifed. Now if it had really been his opinion, that there are objeds of thought which are not ideas, this definition, which is the ground work of the whole Effay, would have been very improper, and apt to miflead his reader. Secondly, He has never attempted to fhow how there can be objefts of thought, which are not immediate objefts ; and indeed this feems impoffible. For whatever the objeft be, the 2i6 ESSAY VI. the man either thinks of it, or he does not. There is no medium between thcfe. If he thinks of it, ir is an immediate objeft of thought while he thinks of it. If he does not think of it, it is no nbjeft of thought at all. Every obje6l of thought, therefore, is an im- mediate objed of thought, and the word imne- diatc^ joinec to objeds of thought, feems to be a mere expletive. Thirdly^ Though Malebranche and Bi- fliop Berkeley believed, that we have no ideas of minds, or of the operations of minds, and that we may think and reafon about them without ideas, this was not the opinion of Mr. Locke. He thought that there are ideas of minds, and of their operations, as well as of the objects of fenfe ; that the mind perceives nothing but its own ideas, and that all words are the figns of ideas. A fourth reafon is, That to fuppofe that he intended to limit the antecedent propofition by the word immediate^ is to impute to him a blunder in reafoning, which I do not think Mr. Locke could have committed ; for what can be a more glaring paralogifm than to infer, that fnice ideas are partly, though not folely, the objeds of thought, it is evident that all our knowledge is only converfant about them. If, on the contrary, he meant that ideas are the only objeds of thought, then the conclufion drawn is perfcdly juft and obvious ; and he might very well fay, that fince it is ideas only that the mind does or can contemplate, it is evi- dent that our knowledge is only converfant about them. As to the conclufion itfelf, I have only to pbferve, that though he extends it only to what SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 217 what he calls knowledge, and not to what he C H A P. calls judgment, there is the fame reafon for ^''^■ extending it to both. "^^ It is true of judgment, as well as of know- ledge, that it can only be converfant about ob- jects of the mind, or about things which the mind can contemplate. Judgment, as well as knowledge, fuppofes the conception of the ob- je£l about which we judge ; and to judge of objetls that never were nor can be objeds of the mind, is evidently impoffible. This therefore we may take for granted, that if knowledge be converfant about ideas only, becaufe there is no other objefl: of the mind, it muft be no lefs certain, that judg- ment is converfant about ideas only, for the fame reafon. Mr. Locke adds, as the refuk of his rea- foning. Knowledge then feems to me to be nothing but the perception of the connexion and agreement, or difagreement and repug- nancy, of any of our ideas. In this alone it confifts. This is a very important point, not only on its own account, but on account of its necef- fary connection with his fyftera concerning ideas, which is fuch, as that both muft ftand or fall together ; for if there is any part of human knowledge which does not confift in the perception of the agreement or difagree- ment of ideas, it muft follow, that there are objeds of thought and of contemplation which are not ideas. This point, therefore, deferves to be care- fully examined. With this view, let us firft attend to its meaning, which I think can hard- ly 2i8 E S S A Y VI. C H A p. iy be miflaken, though it may need fome ex- Ilf- pUcation. ^'~*^'~' Every point of knowledge, and every judg- ment, is exprcfled by a propofition, wherein fomething is affirmed or denied of the fubjedl of the propofition. By perceiving the connection or agreement of two ideas, I conceive is meant perceiving the truth of an affirmative propofition, of which the fubjedl and predicate are ideas. In like manner, by perceiving the difagreement and repugnancy of any two ideas, I conceive is meant perceiving the truth of a negative propofition, of which both fubjeft and predi- cate are ideas. This I take to be the only meaning the words can bear, and it is confir- med by what Mr. Locke fays in a paffage al- readed quoted in this chapter, that " the " mind, taking its ideas to agree or difagree, " is the fame as taking any propofition to be *' true or falfe.'* Therefore, if the definition of knowledge given by Mr. Locke be a juft one, the fubjed, as well as the predicate of every propofition, by which any point of know- ledge is expreffed, mud be an idea, and can be nothing elfe ; and the fame mud hold of every propofition by which judgment is ex- preffed, as has been fhown above. Having afcertained the meaning of this de- finition of human knowledge, we are next to confider how far it is juft. Firji^ I would obferve, that if the word idea be taken in the meaning v/hich it had at firft among the Pythagoreans and Platonifts, and if by knowledge be meant only abftracc and general knowledge, (which I believe Mr. Locke had chiefly in his view,) I think the propofition is true, SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT, 219 true, that fuch knowledge confifts folely inCHAP. perceiving the truth of propofitions whofe fub- ^'^• jed and predicate are ideas. ^ "^"^ By ideas here I mean things conceived ab- ftradly, without ■ regard to their exiftence : We commonly call them abftract notions, ab- ftraQ: conceptions, abftrad ideas ; the Peripa- tetics called the in univerfals ; and the Plato- nills, who knew no other ideas, called them ideas without addition. Such ideas are both fubje6i: and predicate in every propofition which expreffes abflrad; knowledge. The whole body or pure mathematics is an abflra6t fcience ; and in every mathematical propofition, both fubjeO: and predicate are ideas, in the fenfe above explained. Thus, when I fay the fide of a fquare is not commen- furable to its diagonal : In this propofition the fide and the diagonal of a fquare are the fub- jedls, (for being a relative propofition it mufl have two fubjecls.) A fquare, its fide, and its diagonal, are ideas or univerfals ; they are not individuals, but things predicable of many individuals. Exiftence is not included in their definition, nor in the conception we form of them. The predicate of the propofition is com- jnenfwable, which muft be an univerfal, as the predicate of every propofition is fo. in other branches of knowledge many abftrad: truths may be found, but, for the moft part, mixed with others that are not abftra£l. I add, that I apprehend that what is ftriclly called demonftrative evidence, is to be found in abftracl knowledge only. This was the opinion of Aristotle, of Plato, and I think of all the ancient Philofophers j and I believe in 220 ESSAY VI. L-o/%J C H A P.in this they judged right. It is true, we often ^*' meet with demonflration in aftronomy, in me- chanics, and in other branches of natural phi- lofophy ; but I beHeve we fhall always find that fuch demonftrations are grounded upon prin- ciples or fuppofitions, which have neither in- tuitive nor demonftrative evidence. Thus when we demonftrate, that the path of a projedile in 'vacuo is a parabola, we fuppofe that it is afted upon with the fame force, and in the fame direction through its whole path by gravity. This is not intuitively known, nor is it demonftrable : And in the demonflra- tion, we reafon from the laws of motion, which are principles not capable of demonflra- tion, but grounded on a different kind of evi- dence. Ideas, in the fenfe above explained, are creatures of the mind ; they are fabricated by its rational powers ; we know their nature and their effence ; for they are nothing more than they are conceived to be : And becaufe they are perfectly known, we can reafon about ihem with the highefl degree of evidence. And as they are not things that exifl, but things conceived, they neither have place nor time, nor are they liable to change. When we fay that they are in the mind, this can mean no more but that they are conceived by the miind, or that they are objefts of thought. The aft of conceiving them is no doubt in the mind ; the things conceived have no place, be- caufe they have not exiflence. Thus a circle, confidered abflra£lly, is faid figuratively to be in the mind of him that conceives it ; but in no other fenfe than the city of London or the kingdom of France is faid to be in his mind when he thinks of thofe objefts. Place SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 12 1 Place and time belong to finite things thatC H A P. exift, but not to things that are barely con- ceived. They may be objects of conception to intelligent beings in every place, and at all times. Hence the Pythagoreans and Platonifts were led to think that they are eternal and omniprefent. If they had exiftence, they muft be fo ; for they have no relation to any one place or time, which they have not to every place and to every time. The natural prejudice of mankind, that what we conceive muft have exiftence, led thofe an- cient Philofophers to attribute exiftence to ideas ; and by this they were led into all the extravagant and myfteri'^'is parts of their fyf- tem. When it is purged of thefe, I apprehend it to be the only intelligible and rational fyftem concerning ideas. I agree with them therefore, that ideas are imm.utably the fame in all times and places : For this means no more but that a circle is always a circle, and a fquare always a fquare. I agree with them, that ideas are the pat- terns or exemplars, by which every thing was made that had a beginning : P'or an intelligent artificer muft conceive his work before it is made j he makes it according to that concep- tion ; and the thing conceived, before it ex- ifts, can only be an idea. I agree with them, that every fpecies of things confidered abftraftly is an idea ; and that the idea of the fpecies is in every indivi- dual of the fpecies, without divifion or multi- plication. This indeed is expreifed fomewhat myfterioufly, according to the manner of the feet J but it may eafily be explained. Every 222 ESSAY VI. CHAP. Every idea is an attribute ; and it is a com- ^^*- mon way of fpeaking, to fay, that the attri- bute is in every fubjetl of which it may truly be affirmed. Thus, to be above fifty years of age^ is an attribute or idea. This attribute may be in, or affirmed of, fifty diffisrent indi- viduals, and be the fame in all, without divi- fion or multiplication. I think, that not only every fpecies, but every genus, higher or lower, and every at- tribute confidered abftraclly, is an idea. Thefe are things conceived without regard to exifl- encc : they are univerfals, and therefore ideas, according to the ancient meaning of that word. It is true, that, after the Platonifts entered into difputes with the Peripatetics, in order to defend the exiflence of eternal ideas, they found it prudent to contract the line of defence, and maintained only that there is an idea of every fpecies of natural things, but not of the genera, nor of things artificial. They were unwilling to multiply beings beyond what was neccifary ; but in this I think they departed from the genuine principles of their fyftem. The definition of a fpecies, is nothing but the definition of the genus, with the addition of a fpecific difference ; and the divifion of things into fpecies is the work of the mind, as well as their divifion into genera and claffes. A fpecies, a genus, an order, a clafs, is only a combination of attributes made by the mind, and called by one name. There is therefore the fame reafon for giving the name of idea to every attribute, and to every fpecies and genus, whether higher or lower : Thefe are only more complex attributes, or combinations of the more SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 223 morefimple. And though it might be impro-^ HAP. per, without neceffity, to multiply beings, ^ ' which they believed to have a real exiftence ; yet, had they feen that ideas are not things that exift, but things that are conceived, they would have apprehended no danger nor expence from their number. Simple attributes, fpecies and genera, lower or higher, are all things conceived without re- gard to exiftence ; they are univerfals ; they are expreflfed by general words ; and have an equal title to be called by the name of ideas. I likewife agree with thofe ancient Philofo- phers, that ideas are the objeft, and the fole objed of fcience, flridly fo called ; that is, of demonftrative reafoning. And as ideas are immutable, fo their agree- ments and difagreements, and all their relations and attributes, are immutable. All mathema- tical truths are immutably true. Like the ideas about which they are converfant, they have no relation to time or place, no depen- dence upon exiftence or change. That the angles of a plane triangle are equal to two right angles, always was and always will be true, though no triangle had ever exifted. The fame may be faid of all abftrad: truths. On that account they have often been called eternal truths : And for the fame reafon the Pythagoreans afcribed eternity to the ideas about which they are converfant. They may very properly be called neceffary truths ; be- caufe it is impoflible they fhould not be true at all times and in all places. Such is the nature of all truth that can be difcovered, by perceiving the agreements and difagreements of ideas, when we take that word in its primitive fenfe. And that Mr. Locke, in 424 ESSAY VL C H A P. in his definition of knowledge, had chiefly lit his view abftract truths, we may be led to think from the examples he gives to illuflrate it. But there is another great clafs of truths, which are not abftract and neceflary, and there- fore cannot be perceived in the agreements and difagreements of ideas. Thefe are all the truths we know concerning the real exiftence of things ; the ruth of our own exiftence ; of the exiftence of other things, inanimate, animal and rational, and of their various attri- butes and relations. Thefe truths may be called contingent truths. 1 except only the exiftence and attri- butes of the Supreme Being, which is the only necelfary truth I know regarding exiftence. All other beings that exift, depend for their exiftence, and all that belongs to it, upon the will and power of the firft caufe ; therefore, neither their exiftence, nor their nature, nor any thing that befals them, is neceflary, but contingent. But although the exiftence of the Deity be neceflary, I apprehend we can only deduce it from contingent truths. The only arguments for the exiftence of a Deity which I am able to comprehend, are grounded upon the know- ledge of my own exiftence, and the exiftence of other fiilite beings. But thefe are contin- gent truths. I believe, therefore, that by perceiving agreements and difagreements of ideas, no con- tingent truth whatfoever can be known, nor the real exiftence of any thing, not even our own exiftence, nor the exiftence of a Deity, which is a neceflary truth. Thus I have en- deavoured SENTIMENTS cdncernwg JUDGMENT. 225 deavoured to fhew what knowledge may, and CHAP, what cannot be attained, by perceiving the ^^^• agreements and difagreements of ideas, when '-"'^'^^ we take that word in its primitive fenfe. We are, in the next place, to confider, whe- ther knowledge conftfts in perceiving the agree- ment or difagreement of ideas, taking ideas in any of the fenfes in which the word is ufed by Mr. Locke and other modern Philofophers. 1. Very often the word idea is ufed fo, that to have the idea of any thing is 2i periphrajis for conceiving it. In this fenfe, an idea is not an objeft of thought, it is thought itfclf. It is the ad: of the mind by which we conceive any ob- jed. And it is evident that this could not be the meaning which Mr. Locke had in view in his definition of knowledge. 2. A fecond meaning of the word idea is that which Mr. Locke gives in the introduc- tion to his Eflay, when he is making an apolo- gy for the frequent ufe of it. " It being that " term, I think, which ferves befl to ftand for *' whatfoever is the objed: of the underfland- *' ing when a rtian thinks, or whatever it is *' which a man can be employed about in " thinking.*' By this definition, indeed, every thing that can be the object of thought is an idea. The objedls of our thoughts may, I think, be redu- ced to two clafles. The firft clafs comprehends all thofe objeds which we not only can think of, but which we believe to have a real exiftence. Such as the Creator of all things, and all his creatures that fall within our notice. I can think of the fun and moon, the earth and fea, and of the vari- ous animal, vegetable, and inanimate produc- VoL. II. Q^ tions 226 ESSAY VI. CHAP, tions with which it hath plcafed the bountiful ^ _"• Creator to enrich our globe. I can think o.f myfelf, of my friends and acquaintance. I think of the author of the EfTay with high efteem. Thefe, and fuch as thefe, are objects of the underftanding which we believe to have real exigence. A fecond clafs of objeds of the underftand- ing which a man may be employed about in thinking, are things which we either believe never to have exifted, or which we think of without regard to their exiflence. Thus, I can think of Don Quixote, of the iiland of Laputa, of Oceana, and of Utopia, which I believe never to have exifted. Every attribute, every fpecies, and every ge- nus of things, confidered abftraftly, without any regard to their exiftence or non-exiftencey may be an objeft of the underftanding. To this fecond clafs of objeds of the under- ftanding, the name of idea does very properly belong, according to the primitive fenfe of the •word, and I have already confidered what knowledge does, and what does not confift in perceiving the agreements and difagreements of fuch ideas. But if we take the word idea in fo extenfive a fenfe as to comprehend, not only the fecond, but alfo the firft clafs of objefts of the under- ftanding, it will undoubtedly be true, that all knowledge confifts in perceiving the agree- ments and difagreem.ents of ideas : For it is impoflible that there can be any knowledge^ any judgm^ent, any opinion, true or falfe, which is not employed about the objefts of the underftanding. But whatfoever is an ob- ed SENTIMENTS eoncefnlng JUDGMENT. 227 jed of the underftanding Is an idea, according ^ ^J^ P* to this fecond meaning of the word. ^.-v--* Yet I am perfuaded that Mr. Locke, In his definition of knov/ledge, did not mean that the word idea fliould extend to all thofe things which we commonly confider as objects of the underftanding. Though Bifhop Berkei^ey believed that fun, moon, and ftars, and all material things, are ideas, and nothing but ideas, Mr. Locke no where profefTes this opinion. He believed that we have ideas of bodies, but not that bodies are ideas. In like manner, he believed that we have ideas of minds, but not that minds are ideas. When he enquired fo care- fully into the origin of all our ideas, he did not furely mean to find the origin of whatfo- ever may be the object of the underftanding, nor to refolve the origin of every thing that niay be an objed of underftanding into fenfa- tion and reflection. 3. Setting afide, therefore, the two mean- ings of the word idea before mentioned, as meanings which Mr. Locke could not have in his view in the definition he gives of know- ledge, the only meaning that could be intend- ed in this place is that which I before called the Philofophical meaning of the word idea, which hath a reference to the theory commonly received about the manner in which the mind perceives external objedls, and in which it. re- members and conceives objefts that are not prefent to it. It is a very ancient opinion, and has been very generally received among Philofopers, that we cannot perceive or think pf fuch obje«^s immediately, but by the medi- O 2 um 228 ESSAY Vl. CHAP, utn of certain images or reprefentatives of ^^^- them really exifting in the mind at the time. To thofe images the ancients gave the name of fpecies and phantafms. Modern Philofo- phers have given them the name of ideas. " 'Tis evident,'* fays Mr. Locke, book 4. ch. 4. " the mind knows not things immedi- " ately, but only by the intervention of the " ideas it has of them." And in the fame pa- ragraph he puts this queftion: " How fhall the " mind, when it perceives nothing but its *' own ideas, know that they agree with " things themfelves?'* This theory I have already confidered, in treating of perception, of memory, and of conception. The reader will there find the reafons that lead me to think, that it has no folid foundation in reafon, or in attentive re- flexion upon thofe operations of our minds; that it contradids the immediate dictates of our natural faculties, which are of higher au- thority than any theory; that it has taken its rife from the fame prejudices which led all the ancient Philofophers to think that the Deity could not make this world without fome eter- nal matter to work upon, and which led the Pythagoreans and Platonifts to think, that he could not conceive the plan of the world he was to make without eternal ideas really exift- ing as patterns to work by ; and that this theo- ry, when its neceffary confequences are fairly purfued, leads to abfolute fcepticifm, though thofe confequences were not feen by moft of the Philofophers who have adopted it. I have no intention to repeat what has be- fore been faid upon thofe points; but only, taking ideas in this fenfe, to make fome obfer- vations SENTIMENTS concenwig JUDGMENT. 229 vations upon the definition which Mr. Locke CHAP, gives of knowledge. jF/V/?, If all knowledge confifls in perceiving the agreements and difagreements of ideas, that is, of reprefentative images of things ex- ifling in the mind, it obvioufly follows, that if there be no fuch ideas, there can be no knowledge: So that, if there Ihould be found good reafon for giving up this philofophical hypothefis, all knowledge muft go along with it. I hope, however, it is not fo; and that though this hypothefis, like many others, fhould totter and fall to the ground, knowledge will continue to (land firm, upon a more per- manent bafis. The cycles and epicycles of the ancient Af- tronomers were for a thoufand years thought abfolutely necelfary to explain the motions of the heavenly bodies. Yet now, when all men believe them to have been mere fictions, aftro- nomy has not fallen with them, but ftands up- on a more rational foundation than before. Ideas, or images of things exifting in the mind, have for a longer time been thought neceflary for explaining the operations of the underflanding. If they fhould hkevvife at laft be found to be fidions, human knowledge and judgment would fuffer nothing, by being difengaged from an unwieldly hypothefis. Mr. Locke furely did not look upon the exiftence of ideas as a philofophical hypothefis. He thought that we are confcious of their exif- tence, otherwife h^ would not have made the exiftence of all our knowledge to depend upon the exiftence of ideas. Secondly^ 230 ESSAY VI. CHAP. Secondly, Suppofing this hypothefis to be yj:^:^ true, I agree with Mr. Locke, that it is an evident and neceffary confequence that our knowledge can be converfant about ideas only, and muil; confift in perceiving their attributes and relations. For nothing can be more evi- dent than this, that all knowledge, and all judgment and opinion, muft be about things which are or may be immediate objefts of our thought. What cannot be the objeft of thought, or the objeft of the mind in think- ing, cannot be the objefl: of knowledge or of opinion. Every thing v/e can know of any objeft muft be either feme attribute of the object, or fome relation it bears to fome other obje6: or objeds. By the agreements and difagreements of ob- je6ls, I apprehend Mr. Locke intended to ex- prefs both their attributes and their relations. If ideas then be the only objefts of thought^ the confequence is neceffary, that they muft be the only obje6ts of knowledge, and all know- ledge muft confift in perceiving their agree- ments and difagreements, that is, their attri- butes and relations. The ufe I would make of this confequence, is to fliow that the hypothefis muft be falfe, from which it neceffarily foUov/s: For if we have any knowledge of things that are not ideas, it will follow no lefs evidently, that ideas are not the only objefts of our thoughts. Mr. Locke has pointed out the extent and limits of human knowledge in his fourth book, with more accuracy and judgment than any Phiiofopher had done before ; but he has not confined it to the agreements and difagree- ments of ideas. And I cannot help thinking, that SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 231 that a great part of that book is an evident re-C H A P, futation of the principles laid down in the be- ^^^' ginning of it. Mr. Locke did not believe that he himfelf was an idea ; that his friends and acquaintance were ideas ; that the Supreme Being, to fpeak with reverence, is an idea ; or that the fun and moon, the earth and the fea, and other exter- nal objeds of fenfe, are ideas. He believed that he had fome certain knowledge of all thofe objeds. His knowledge, therefore, did not confilt folely in perceiving the agreements and difagrcements of his ideas : For, furely, to perceive the exillence, the attributes, and re- lations of things, which are not ideas, is not to perceive the agreements and dilagreements of ideas. And if things which are not ideas be objeds of knowledge, they muft be objeds of thought. On the contrary, if ideas be the only objeds of thought, there can be no know- ledge either of our own exiflence, or of the exiftence of external objefts, or of the exif- tence of a Deity. This confequence, as far as concerns the exiftence of external objects of fenfe, was af- terwards deduced from the theory of ideas by Bifhop Berkeley with the cleareft evidence ; and that author chofe rather to adopt the con- fequence than to reje£l the theory on which it was grounded. But, with regard to the ex- iftence of our own minds, of other minds, and of a Supreme Mind, the Bifliop, that he might avoid the confequence, rejeded a part of the theory, and maintained, that we can think of of minds, of their attributes and relations, without ideas. Mr. 132 ESSAY VL Mr. Hume faw very clearly the confequen- ces of this theory, and adopted them in his fpcculative moments ; but candidly acknow- ledges, that, in the common bufmefs of life, he found himfelf under a neceflity of believing with the vulgar. His Treatife of Human Na- ture is the only fyftem to which the theory of ideas leads ; and, in my apprehenfion, is, in all its parts, the neceflary confequence of that theory. Mr. Locke, however, did not fee all the confequences of that theory ; he adopted it without doubt or examination, carried along by the ftream of Philofophers that went before him ; and his judgment and good fenfe have led him to fay many things, and to believe many things that cannot be reconciled to it. He not only believed his own exiftence, the exiflence of external things, and the exiftcnce of a Deity ; but he has (hown very juftly how we come by the knowledge of thefe exiften- ces. It might here be expefted, that he fhould have pointed out the agreements and difagree- ments of ideas from which thefe exiftences are deduced ; but this is impoffible, and he has not even attempted it. Our own exiflence, he obferves, ive know intuitively ; but this intuition is not a percep- tion of the agreement or difagreement of ideas ; for the fubje^l: ofthepropofition, lexiji, is not an idea, but a perfon. The knowledge of external objcfts of fenfe, he obferves, we can have only by fenfation. This fenfation he afterwards exprefl'es more clearly by the tejiimony of our fenfes, which are the proper and fole judges of this thing ; whofe teftimony SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 233 teftimony is the greateji affurance we canpo/Jlbly^ HAP, have, and to which our faculties can attain.^ '_ ^ This is perfectly agreeable to the common ' fenfe of mankind, and is perfedly underftood by thofe who never heard of the theory ol ideas. Our fenfes teftify immediately the ex- iftence, and many of the attributes and relati- ons of external material beings ; and, by our conflitution, we rely with aflurance upon their teftimony, without feeking a reafon for doing fo. This aflurance, Mr. Locke acknowledg- es, deferves the name of knowledge. But thofe external things are not ideas, nor are their at- tributes and relations the agreements and dif- agreements of ideas, but the agreements and difagreements of things which are not ideas. To reconcile this to the theory of ideas, Mr, Locke fays. That if is the adual receiving of ideas from without that gives us notice of the exijience of thofe external things. This, if underftood literally, would lead us back to the doftrine of Aristotle, that our ideas or fpecies come from without from the external objects, and are the image or form of thofe objeds. But Mr. Locke, I believe;, meant no more by it, but that our ideas of fenfe muft have a caufe, and that we are not the caufe of them ourfelves. Biftiop Berkeley acknowledges all this, and fhews very clearly, that it does not afford the leaft ftiadow of reafon for the belief of any material obje£t. Nay, that there can be no- thing external that has any refemblance to our ideas but the ideas of other minds. It is evident, therefore, that the agree- ments and difagreements of ideas can give us no knowledge of the exiftence of any material thing* 234 ESSAY Vr. C H A P.thlng. If any knowledge can be attained of ^J*5: things which are not ideas, that knowledge is a perception of agreements and difagreements, not of ideas, but of things that are not ideas. As to the exiftence of a Deity, though Mr, Locke was aware that Des Cartes, and ma- ny after him, had attempted to prove it merely from the agreements and difagreements of' ideas ; yet " he thought it an ill way of efta- " blifhing that truth, and filencing Atheifts, *' to lay the whole ftrefs of fo important a *' point upon that fole foundation.'* And therefore he proves this point with great ftrength and folidity, from our exiftence, and the exiftence of the fenfible parts of the uni^ verfe. By memory, Mr. Locke fays, we have the knowledge of the paft exiftence of feveral things : But all conception of paft exiftence, as well as of external exiftence, is irreconcilea- h\e to the theory of ideas ; becaufe it fuppofes that there may be immediate objefts of thought, which are not ideas prefently exifting in the mind. I conclude therefore, thai if we have any knowledge of our own exiftence, or of the exif- tence of what we fee about us, or of the ex- iftence of a Supreme Being ; or if we have any knowledge of things paft by memory, that knowledge cannot confift in perceiving the agreements and difagreements of ideas. This conclufion, indeed, is evident of itfelf : For if knowledge confifts folely in the percep- tion of the agreement or difagreement of ideas, there can be no knowledge of any propofition which does not exprefs fome agreement or dif- agreement of ideas ; confequently there can be no knowledge of any propofition, which exprelfes either the exiftence, or the attributes or SENTIMENTS concerning JUDGMENT. 23^ CHAP or relations of things, which are not ideas. ^^^ "• If therefore the theory of ideas be true, there can be no knowledge of any thing but of ideas, And, on the other hand, if we have any know- ledge of any thing befides ideas, that theory mud be falfe. There can be no knowledge, no judgment, or opinion about things which are not imme- diate objects of thought. This I take to be felf-evident. If, therefore, ideas be the only immediate objefts of thought, they muft be the only things in nature of which we can have any knowledge, and about which we can have any judgment or opinion. This neceiTary confequence of the^common doftrinc of ideas Mr. Hume faw, and has made evident in his Treatife of Human Na- ture ; but the ufe he made of it was not to overturn the theory with which it is neceflarily connefted, but to overturn all knowledge, and to leave no ground to believe any thing whatfoever. If Mr. Locke had feen this con- fequence, there is reafon to think that he would have made another ufe of it. That a man of Mr. Locke's judgrnent and penetration did not perceive a confequence fo evident, feems indeed very ftrange ; and I know no other account that can be given of it but this, that the ambiguity of the word idea has milled him in this, as in feveral other in- ftances. Having at firft defined ideas to be whatfoever is the objed of the underflanding when we think, he takes it very often in that unlimited fenfc ; and fo every thing that can be an object of thought is an idea. At other times, he ufes the word to fignify certain re- prefentative images of things in the mind, which 23^ ESSAY VI. ^ ^u ^' ^^^^^^ Philofophers have fuppofed to be imme- ^^.^..^^ diate objeOis of thought. At other times, things conceived ab{lra whether Romans, Greeks, or Barbarians, by the learned and the unlearned, LuciAN relates, that a King, whofe domi- nions bordered upon the Euxine fea, happen- ing to be at Rome in the reign of Nero, and having feen a pantomime a£t, begged him of Nero that he might ufe him in his intercourfe with all the nations in his neighbourhood : For, faid he, I am obliged to employ 1 don't know how many intepreters, in order to keep a correfpondence wdth neighbours who fpeak many languages, and do not underftand mine; but this fellow will make them all underftand him. For thefe reafons, I conceive, it muft be granted, not only that there is a conne£tion eftabliflied by Nature between certain figns in the countenance, voice, and gefture, and the thoughts and paffions of the mind ; but alfo, that, by our conftitution, we underftand the meaning of thofe figns, and from the fign con- clude the exiftence of the thing fignified. I o. Another firft principle appears to me to be. That there is a certain regard due to human teftimony in matters of faft, and even to hu- man authority in matters of opinion. U 2 Before 292 ESSAY VI. Before we are capable oF reafoning about teftimony or authority, there are many things which it concerns us to know, for which we can have no other evidence. The wife Author of nature hath planted in the human- mind a propenfity to rely upon this evidence before we can give a reafon for doing fo. This, indeed, puts our judgment almofl entirely in the power of thofe that are about us, in the firll period of life ; but this is neceflary both to our preferva- tion and to our improvement. If children were fo framed, as to pay no regard to tefti- mony or to authority, they muft, in the literal fenfe^ perifh for lack of knowledge. It is not more neceffary that they fhould be fed before they can feed themfelves, than that they fhould be inftruded in many things, before they can difcover them by their own judgment. But when our faculties ripen, we find reafon to check that propenfity to yield to teftimony and to authority, wbicli was fo neceffary and fo natural in the firft period of life. We learn td reafon about the regard due to them, and fee it to be a childifli weaknefs to lay more flrefs upon them than reafon juftifies. Yet, I believe, to the end of life, moft men are more apt to go into this extreme than into the con- trary ; and the natural propenfity ftill retains fome force. The natural principles, by which our judg- ments and opinions are regulated before v;e come to the ufe of reafon, feem to be no lefs neceffary to fuch a being as man, than thofe natural inftinfts which the Author of nature hath given us to regulate our aftions during that period. II. There Firji Principles of Contingent Truths. 293 1 1. There are many events depending uponC HAP. the will of man, in which there is a felf-evi- ^'^• dent probability, greater or lefs, according to ^^""^ circumflances. There may be in fome individuals fuch a de- gree of phrenzy and madnefs, that no man can fay what they may or may not do. Such per- fons we find it neceffary to put under reflraint, that as far as poflible they may be kept from doing harm to themfelvcs or to others. Ihey are not confidered as reafonable creatures, or members of fociety. But, as to men who have a foun,d mind, we depend upon a certain de- gree of regularity in their condu£l; ; and could put a thoufand dilFerent cafes, wherein we could venture, ten to one, that they will ad in luch a way, and not in the contrary. If we had no confidence in our fellow men that they will a£b fuch a part in fuch circum- flances, it would be impoffible to live in fociety with them : For that which makes men capa- ble of living in fociety, and uniting in a politi- cal body under government, is, that their ani- ons will always be regulated in a great meafure by the common principles of human nature. It may always be expeded, that they will regard their own intereft and reputation, and that of their families and friends ; that they will repel injuries, and have fome fenfe of good offices ; and that they will have fome regard to truth and juflice, fo far at leaft as not to fwerve from them without temptation. It is upon fuch principles as thefc, that all political reafoning is grounded. Such reafon- ing is never demonftrative ; but it may have a very great degree of probability, efpecially when applied to great bodies of men. 12. The 294 ESSAY VI. CHAP. 12. The laft principle of contingent truths ^^_)^ I mention, is, That, in the phsenomena of nature, what is to be, will probably be like to what has been in fimilar circumftances. "We muft have this conviction as foon as we are capable of learning any thing from experi- ence; for all experience is grounded upon a belief that the future will be like the pafl. Take away this principle, and the experience of an hundred years makes us no wifer with re- gard to what is to come. This is one of thofe principles, which, when we grow up and obferve the courfe of nature, we can confirm by reafoning. We perceive that Nature is governed by fixed laws, and that if it were not fo, there could be no fuch thing as prudence in human conduct; there would be no fitnefs in any means to promote an end; and what, on one occafion, promoted it, might as probably, on another occafion, obftru£l it. But the principle is necelfary for us before we are able to difcover it by reafoning, and therefore is made a part of our conftitution, and produces its effects before the ufe of rea- fon. This principle remains in all its force when we come to the ufe of reafon; but we learn to be more cautious in the application of it. We obferve more carefully the circumilances on which the pad event depended, and learn to diftinguiili them from thofe which were acci- dentally conjoined with it. In order to this a number of experiments, varied in their circumftances, is often neceffa- ry. Sometimes a fmgle experiment is thought fufficient to eflablifli a general conclufion. Thus, when it was once found, that, in a cer- tain Firji Principles of Contingent Truths. ■ 295 tain degree of cold, quickfilver became a hard C HAP. and malleable metal, there was good reafon ^• to think, that the lame degree of cold will — "v— » always produce this eft'ed: to the end of the world. I need hardly mention, that the whole fa- bric of natural philofophy is built upon this principle, and, if it be taken away, mud tum- ble down to the foundation. Therefore the great Newton lays it down as an axiom, or as one of his laws of philo- fophifmg, in thefe words, Effe6luumnaturalium ejufdetn generis eafdeni ejfe caufas. This is what every man aifents to as foon as he under- ftands it, and no man afks a reafon for it. It has therefore the moft genuine marks of a firfl principle. It is very remarkable, that although all our expectation of what is to happen in the courfe of nature is derived from the belief of this principle, yet no man thinks of afk- ing what is the ground of this belief. Mr. Hume, I think, was the firft; who put this queftion; and he has fhewn clearly and invincibly, that it is neither grounded upon reafoning, nor has that kind of intuitive evi- dence which mathematical axioms have. It is not a neceifary truth. He has endeavoured to account for it upon his own principles. It is not my bufmefs at prefent to examine the account he has given of this univerfal belief of mankind ; becaufe, whether his account of it be juft or not, (and I think it is not), yet, as this belief is univer- fal among mankind, and is not grounded upon any antecedent reafoning, but upon the con- ftitution of the mind itfelf, it muft be ac- knowledged 296 ESSAY VI. r H A P knowledged to be a firfl principle, in the fenfe ^ ^- in which I ufe that word. '"■"'^ 1 do not at all affirm, that thofe I have men- tioned are all the firfl principles from which we may realon concerning contingent truths. Such enumerations, even when made after much re- fiedion, are feldom perfect. c li A P. vr. firji Principles of necejfary Truthi, ABOUT moft of the firfl principles of neceffary truths there has been no dif- pute, and therefore it is the lefs neceffary to dwell upon them. It will be fufficicnt to di- vide them into different claffes; to mention fome, by way of fpecimen, in each clafs ; and to make fome remarks on thofe of which the truth has been called in queftion. They may, I think, mofl properly be di- vided according to the fciences to which they belong. I. i here are fome firfl principles that may be called grammatical; fuch as, that every adjeftive in a fentence rnufl belong to fome fubftantive expreffed or underflood ; that every complete fentence mufl have a verb. Thofe who have attended to the ftruciure of language, and formed diflin£t notions of the nature and ufe of the various parts of fpeech, perceive, without reafoning, that thefe, and many other fuch principles, are necelTarily true. 2. There are logical axioms; fuch as, that anv contexture of words which does not make a pro- Firjl Principles of Neceffary Truths. 397 a propofition, is neither true nor falfe ; that CHAP, every propofition is either true or falfe ; that ^^^1^ no propofition can be both true and falfe at the fame time; that reafoning in a circle proves nothing; that whatever may be truly affirmed of a genus, may be truly affirmed of all the fpecies, and all the individuals belonging to that genus. 3. Every one knows there are mathematical, axioms. Mathematicians have, from the days of Euclid, very wifely laid down the axioms or firfl principles on which they reafon. And the effisft which this appears to have had upon the {lability and happy progrefs of this fcience, gives no fmall encouragement to attempt to lay the foundation of other fciences in a fimilar manner, as far as we are able. Mr. Hume hath difcovered, as he appre- hends, a weak fide, even in mathematical axioms; and thinks, that it is not ftriclly true, for inftance, that two right lines can cut one another in one point only. The principle he reafons from is, That every iimple idea is a copy of a preceding impreffion; and therefore, in its precifion and accuracy, can never go beyond its original. From which he reafons in this manner: No man ever faw or felt a line fo ftraight, that it might not cut another, equally ftraight, in two or more points. Therefore there can be no idea of fuch a line. The ideas that are moft elfential to geome- try, fuch as, thofe of equality, of a ftraight line, and of a fquare furface, are far, he fays, from being diftinft and determinate; and the definitions deftroy the pretended demonftrati- ons. 298 ESSAY VL CHAP. ons. Thus, mathematical demonftration is ^^- found to be a rope of fand. ^^ I agree with this acute author, that, if we could form no notion of points, lines, and furfaces, more accurate than thofe we fee and handle, there could be no mathematical de- monftration. But every man that has underftanding, by analyfmg, by abftracling, and compounding the rude materials exhibited by his fenfes, can fabricate, in his own mind, thofe elegant and accurate forms of mathematical lines, furfaces, and folids. If a man finds himfelf incapable of forming a precife and determinate notion of the figure which Mathematicians call a cube, he not on- ly is no Mathematician, but is incapable of be- ing one. But, if he has a precife and deter- minate notion of that figure, he muft perceive, that it is terminated by fix mathematical fur- faces, perfedlly fquare, and perfetliy equal. He muli perceive, that thefe furfaces are ter- minated by twelve mathematical lines, per- fectly ftraight, and perfectly equal, and that thofe lines are terminated by eight mathema- tical points. When a man is confcious of having thefc conceptions diftind and determinate, as every Mathematician is, it is in vain to bring meta- phyfical arguments to convince him that they are not dillind. You may as well bring argu- ments to convince a man racked with pain, that he feels no pain. Every theory that is inconfiftent with our having accurate notions of mathematical lines, furfaces, and folids, muft be falfe. Therefore it Firji Principles of Necejfary Truths. 299 it follows, that they are not copies of our im- ^ HA P. preflions. <.J-C^ The Medicean Venus is not a copy of the block of marble from which it was made. It is true, that the elegant ftatue was formed out of the rude block, and that too by a ma- nual operation, which, in a literal fenfe, we may call abftraclion. Mathematical notions are formed in the underflianding by an ab- ftradion of another kind, out of the rude per- ceptions of our fenfes. As the truths of natural philofophy are not necelfary truths, but contingent, depending upon the will of the Maker of the world, the principles from which they are deduced muil be of the fame nature, and therefore belong not to this clafs. 4. I~ think there are axioms, even in mat- ters of tafte. Notwithflanding the variety found among men, in tafte, there are, I ap- prehend, fome common principles, even in matters of this kind. I never heard of any man who thought it a beauty in a human face to want a nofe, or an eye, or to have the mouth on one fide. How many ages have paffed fince the days of Homer ! Yet, in this long trad: of ages, there never was found a man who took Thersites for a beauty. The Jine arts are very properly called the arts of tafie, becaufe the principles of both are the fame ; and in the fine arts, we find no lefs agreement among thofe who pradife them than among other artifts. No work of tafte can be either reliftied or underftood by thofe who do not agree with the author in the principles of tafte. Homer, ;oo ESSAY VI. Homer, and Virgil, and Shakespeare, and Milton, had the lame tafte ; and all men who have been acquainted with their writings, and agree in the admiration of them, muft have the fame tafte. The fundamental rules of poetry and mufic and painting, and dramatic aftion and elo- quence, have been always the fame, and will be fo to the end of the world. The variety we find among men in m.atters of tafle is eafily accounted for, confiftently with what we have advanced. There is a tafte that is acquired, and a tafte that is natural. This holds with refpeft both to the external fenfe of tafte and the internal. Habit and fafliion have a powerful influence upon both. Of taftes that are natural, there are fome that may be called rational, others that are merely animal. Children are delighted with brilliant and gaudy colours, with romping and noify mirth, with feats of agility, ftrength, or cunning ; and favages have much the fame tafte as chil- dren. But there are taftes that are more intellec- tual- It is the dicl:ate of our rational nature, that love and admiration are mifplaced when there is no intrinfic worth in the objeft. In thofe operations of tafte which are ratio- nalj we judge of the real worth and excellence of the object, and our love or admiration is guided by that judgment. In fuch operations there is judgment as well as feehng, and the feeling depends upon the judgment we form of the objed. I do Firjl Principles of Necejfary Truths. 301 I do not maintain that tafte, fo far as it is C H A P. acquired, or fo far as it is merely animal, can ^ ^• be reduced to principles. But as far as it is' ^ founded on judgment, it certainly may. The virtues, the graces^ the mufes, have a beauty that is intrinfic. It lies not in the feel- ings of the fpectator, but in the real excel- lence of the object. If we do not perceive their beauty, it is owing to the defeft or to the perverfion of our faculties. And as there is an original beauty in cer- tain moral and intelledual qualities, fo there is a borrowed and derived beauty in the nalural figns and exprelTions of fuch qualities. The features of the human face, the modu- lations of the voice, and the proportions, atti- tudes, and geflure of the body, are all natural expreiTions of good or bad quaiicies of the per- fon, and derive a beauty or a deformity from the qualities which they exprefs. Works of art exprefs fome quality of the ar- tift, and often derive an additional beauty from their utility or fitnefs for their end. Of fuch things there are fome that ought to pleafe, and others that ought to di^pleafe. If they do not, it is owing' to fome defect in the fpectator. But what has real excellence will always pleafe thofe who have a correal judg- ment and a found heart. The fum of what has been faid upon this fubje«St is, that, fetting afide the tafles which men acquire by habit and fafliion, there is a na- tural taite, which is partly animal, and partly radonal. With regard to the firft, all we can fay is, that the Author of Nature, for wife reafons, has formed us fo as to receive pleafure jfrom the contemplation of certain objects, and difgufl 502 ESSAY VI. CHAP, difgufl: from others, before we are capable of ^- perceiving any real excellence in one, or defeft "■^^ in the other. But that tafte which we may call rational, is that part of our conftitution by which we are made to receive pleafure from the contemplation of what we conceive to be excellent in its kind, the pleafure being an- nexed to this judgment, and regulated by it. This tafte may be true or falfe, according as it is founded on a true or falfe judgment. And if it may be true or falfe, it muft have firft principles. 5 There are alfo firft principles in morals. That an unjuft action has more demerit than an ungenerous one : That a generous action has more merit than a merely juft one : That no man ought to be blamed for what it was not in his power to hinder : That we ought not to do to others what we would think unjuft or unfair to be done to us in like circumftances : Thefe are moral axioms, and many others might be named which appear to me to have no lefs evidence than thofe of mathenlatics. Some perhaps may think, that our deter- minations, either in matters of tafte or in mo- rals, ought not to be accounted neceflary truths : That they are grounded upon the conftitutionof that faculty which we call tafte, iind of that which we call the moral fenfe or confcience ; which faculties might have been fo conftituted as to have given determinati- ons different, or even contrary to thofe they now give : That as there is nothing fweet or bitter in itfelf, but according as it agrees or difagrees with the external fenfe called tafte ; fo there is nothing beautiful or ugly in itfelf, but according as it agrees or difagrees with the firjl Principles of Neceffary Truths. 303 the internal fenfe, which we alfo call tafte ; C HA P. and nothing morally good or ill in itfelf, but ^^^• according at it agrees or difagrees with our ^"^ moral fenfe. This indeed is a fyftem, with regard to mo- rals and tafte, which hath been fupported in modern times by great authorities. And if this fyftem be true, the confequence muft be, that there can be no principles, either of tafte or of morals, that are neceftary truths. For, according to this fyftem, all our determinati- ons, both with regard to matters of tafte, and with regard to morals, are reduced to matters of fact. I mean to fuch as thefe, that by our conftitution we have on fuch occafions certain agreeable feelings, and on other occafions cer- tain difagreeable feelings. But I cannot help being of a contrary opini- on, being perfuaded, that a man who deter- mined that polite behaviour has great defor- mity, and that there is great beauty in rudc- nefs and ill breeding, would judge wrong whatever his feelings were. In like manner, I cannot help thi-iking, that a man who determined that there is more moral worth in cruelty, perfidy, and injuftice, than in generofity, juftice, prudence, and temperance, would judge wrong whatever his conftitution was. And if it be true that there is judgment in our determinations of tafte and of morals, it muft be granted, that what is true or falfe in morals, or in matters of tafte, is neceiTarily fo. For this reafon, I have ranked the firft principles of morals and of tafte under the clafs of neceffarv truths. 6. The 304 ESSAY VI. CHAP. 6. The laft clafs of firft principles I fhall ^^' mention, we may call metaphyfical. ^''^^^ I fliall particularly confider three of thefe, becaufe they have been called in queftion by Mr. Hume. The ^rji is, That the qualities which we perceive by our fenfes mud have a fubjed, which we call body, and that the thoughts we are confcious of muft have a fubjeft, which we call mind. It is not more evident that two and two make four, than it is that figure cannot exift, unlefs there be fomething that is figured, nor motion without fomething that is moved. I not only perceive figure and motion, but I perceive them to be qualities : They have a neceflary relation to fomething in which they exift as their fubjed. The difficulty which fomePhilofopher shave found in admitting this, is entirely owing to the theory of ideas. A fubjeft of the fenfible qualities which we per- ceive by our fertfes, is not an idea either of fenfation or of confcioufnefs ; therefore fay they, we have no fuch idea. Or, in the ftyle of Mr. Hume, from what impreffion is the idea of fubftance derived ? It is not a copy of any impreffion ; therefore there is no fuch idea. The diftlndion between fenfible qualities, and the fubftance to which they belong, and between thought, and the mind that thinks, is not the invention of Philofophers ; it is found in the ftrufture of all languages, and therefore muft be common to all men who fpeak with underftanding. And I believe no man, how- ever fceptical he may be in fpeculation, can talk on the common affairs of life for half an hour. Tirji Principles of Necejfary Truths. 305 hour, without faying things that -imply^is CHAP. behef of the reality of thefe diftindions. Mr Locke acknowledges, " That we can- " not conceive how fimple ideas offenfible " qualities fhould fubfift alone ; and therefore " we fuppofe them to exill in, and to be fup- *' ported by, fome common fubjeft." In his Effay, indeed, fome of his exprcffions feem to leave it dubious, whether this belief, that fen- fible qualities mufl have a fubje£t, be a true judgment, or a vulgar prejudice. But in his firfl letter to the Bifhop of Worcester, he removes this doubt, and quotes many paffages of his Eflay, to Ihew that he neither denied, nor doubted of the exiftence of fubflances, both thinking and material ; and that he be- lieved their exiftence on the fame ground the Bifhop did, to wit, " on the repugnancy to " our conceptions, that modes and accidents " (hould fubfift by themfelves." He offers no proof of this repugnancy ; nor, I think, can any proof of it be given, becaufe it is a firfl principle. It were to be wiflied that Mr. Locke, who enquired fo accurately and fo laudably into the origin, certainty, and extent of human know- ledge, had turned his attention more particu- larly to the origin of thefe two opinions which he firmly believed ; to wit, that fenfible qua- lities muft have a fubjeft which we call body, and that thought muft have a fubjeft which we call mind. A due attention to thefe two opi- nions which govern the belief of all men, even of Sceptics in the practice of life, would j^ro- bably have led him to perceive, that fenfation and confcioufnefs are not the only fources of human knowledge j and that there arc prir.ci- VoL. II. X pies 3o6 ESSAY VI. CHAP pies of belief in human nature, of which we ^^- can give no other account but that they necef- ^""'"^''^^ farily refult from the confritution of our facul- ties ; and that if it were in our power to throw off their influence upon our practice and con- duft, we could neither fpeak nor act like rea- fonable men. We cannot give a reafon why we believe even our fenfations to be real and not fallaci- ous ; why wc believe what we are confcious of ; why we truft any of our natural faculties. We fay, it mufl be fo, it cannot be otherwife. This expreiles only a ftrong belief, which is indeed the voice of Nature, and which there- fore in vain we attempt to refill. But if, in fpite of Nature, we refolve to go deeper, and not to trull our faculties, without a reafon to fhew that they cannot be fallacious, I am afraid, that feeking to become wife, and to be as gods, we fliall become foolifh, and being unfatisfied with the lot of humanity, we fliall throw off common fenfe. The fecond m.etaphyfical principle I mention is. That whatever begins to exiil, mufl have a caufe which produced it. Philofophy is indebted to Mr. Hume in this refpecl amono; others, that, bv calling in quef- tion many of the firfl principles of human knowledge, he hath put fpeculative men upon enquiring more carefully than was done before, into the nature of the evidence upon which they reft. Truth can never fuffer by a fair enqui- ry ; it can bear to be feen naked and in the fulleft light ; and the ftrifteft examination will always turn out in the ilfue to its advantage. I believe Mr. Hume was the firft who ever called Tirjl Principles of Necejfary Truths. 307 called in queflion whether things that begin to C H A P. exifl: mufl have a caufe. ^^• With regard to this point, we muft hold ' ' one of thefe three things, either that it is an opinion, for which we have no evidence, and which men have foolifhly taken up without ground ; or, fccondly. That it is capable of di- reft proof by argument ; or, thirdly^ That it is felf-evident, and needs no proof, but ought to be received as an axiom, which cannot by reafonable men be called in queflion. The firft of thefe fuppofitions would put an end to all philofophy, to all religion, to all reafoning that would carry us beyond the ob- jefts of ferife, and to all prudence in the con- dud of life. As to the fecond fuppofition, that this prin- ciple may be proved by dire£t reafoning, I am afraid we Ihall find the proof extremely diffi- cult, if not altogether impolTible. I know only of three or four arguments that have been urged by Philofophers, in the way of abftract reafoning, to prove, that things which begin to exift mufl have a caufe. One is offered by Mr. Hobbes, another by Dr. Samuel Clarke, another by Mr. Locke. Mr. Hume, in hisTreatife of Human Nature, has examined them all ; and, in my opinion, has (hewn, that they take for granted the thing to be proved ; a kind of falfe reafoning, which men are very apt to fall into when they at- tempt to prov^e what is felf-evident. It has been thought, that, although this principle does not admit of proof from abflrad reafoning, it may be proved from experience, and may be juflly drawn by induction, from inftances that fall within our obfervation. X 2 1 conceive 3c8 ESSAY VI. I conceive this method of proof will leave us ill great uncertainty, for thefe three reafons : ly?, Eecaufe the propofition to be proved is not a contingent but a neceflary propofition. It is not, that things which begin to exift com- monly have a caufe, or even that they always in faft have a caufe ; but they mufl have a caufc, and cannot begin to exift without a caufe. PropoHtions of this kind, from their nature, are incapable of proof by induction. Expe- rience informs us only of what is or has been, not of what mud be ; and the conclufion muft be of the fan-.e nature with the premifes. For this reafon, no mathematical propofition can be proved by indudion. Though it fhould be found by experience in a thoufand cafes, that the area of a plane triangle is equal to the reftangle under the altitude and half the bafe, this would not prove that it muft be fo in all cafes, and cannot be otherwife ; which is what the Mathematician affirms. In like manner, though we had the moft ample experimental proof, that things which have begun to exift had a caufe, this would not prove that they muft have a caufe. Expe- rience may fliew us what is the eftabliftied courfe of nature, but can never fhew what con- nexions of things are in their nature necelfary. 2dly^ General maxims, grounded on expe- rience, have only a degree of probability pro- portioned to the extent of our experience, and ought always to be undcrftood fo as to leave room for exceptions, if future experience fhall difcover any fuch. The law of gravitation has as full a proof from experience and indudion as any principle can Firji Pr'mciples of Neceffary Truths. 309 can befuppofed to have. Yet, if anyPhilofo-C H A. P. pher fliould, by clear experiment, Ihew that ^^• there is a kind of matter in fome bodies which ' " ^ does not gravitate, the law of gravitation ought to be limited by that exception. Now it is evident, that men have never con- fidered the principle of the neceility of caufes, as a truth of this kind which may admit of li-r mitation or exception ; and therefore it has not been received upon this kind of evidence. 2)dly^ 1 do not fee that experience could fatisfy us that every change in nature adually has a caufe. In the far greateft part of the changes in na- ture that fall within our obfervation, the caufes are unknown ; and therefore, from experience, we cannot know whether they have caufes or not. Caufation is not an obje£b of fenfe. The only experience we can have of it, is in the confcioufnefs we have of exerting fome power in ordering our thoughts and adions. But this experience is furely too narrow a founda- tion for a general conclufion, that all things that have had or fhall have a beginning mud have a caufe. For thefe reafons, this principle cannot be drawn from experience any more than from abftraft reafoniug. The third fuppofition is. That it is to be admitted as a firfh or felf-evident principle. Two reafons may be urged for this. i/?. The univerfal confent of mankind, not of Philofophers only, but of the rude and un- learned vulgar. Mr. Hume, as far as I know, was the firft that ever exprefled any doubt of this principle. And 3IO ESSAY VI. CHAP, ^j^,^ when we confider that he has rejected every principle of human knowledge, except- ing that of confcioufnefs, and has not even fpared the axioms of mathematics, his authority is of fmall weight. Indeed, with regard to firft principles, there is no reafon why the opinion of a Philofopher fliould have more authority than that of ano- ther man of common fenfe, who has been ac- cufhomed to judge in fuch cafes. The illiterate vulgar are competent judges ; and the Philofo- pher has no prerogative in matters of this kind ; but he is more liable than they to be mifled by a favourite fyflem, efpecially if it is his own. Setting afide the authority of Mr. Hume ; what has philofophy been employed in, fince men firft began to philofophife, but in the in- veftigation of the caufes of things ? This it has always profefled, when we trace it to its cradle. It never entered into any man's thought, before the Philofopher we have men- tioned, to put the previous queftion, whether things have a caufe or not ? Had it been thought poflible that they might not, it may be prefumed, that, in the variety of abfurd and contradidory caufes affigned, fome one would have had recourfe to this hypothecs. They could conceive the world to arife from an egg, from a ftruggle between love and ftrife, between moifture and drought, between heat and cold ; but they never fuppofed that it had no caufe. We know not any Atheiftic fed that ever had recourfe to this topic, though by it they might have evaded every argument that could be brought againft them, and anfwered all objedions to their fyflem. But Firji Principles of Neccjfary Truths. 3 1 1 But rather than adopt fuch an abfurdity,^ HA P. they contrived fome imaginary caufe ; luch as ^ chance, a concourfe of atom?, or neceliity, as the caufe of the univcrfe. The accounts which Philofophers have given of particular phaenoniena, as well as ct the uni- verfe in general, proceed upon the fame prin- ciple. That every phaenomenon muit have a caufe, was always taken for granted. Nil turpius phyfico, fays Cicero, quam fieri fine caufia quicquam diccre. Though an Acade- mic, he was dogmatical in this. And Pla- to, the Father of the academy, was no lefs fo. " US." It is impoffible that any thing fhould have its origin without a caufe. 1 believe Mr. Hume was the firfh who ever held the contary. This, indeed, he avows, and aflumes the honour of the difcovery. It is, fays he, a maxim in philofophy, that whatever begins to exift, mud have a caufe of exiftence. This is commonly taken for granted in all reafonings, without any proof given or dcmianded. It is fuppofed to be founded on intuition, and to be one of thofe maxims, which, though they may be denied with the lips, it is impollible for men in their hearts really to doubt of. But, if we examine this maxim by the idea of know- ledge, above explained, we iliall difcover in it no mark of fuch intuitive certainty.'* The meaning of this feems to be, that it did not fuit with his theory of intuitive certainty, and therefore he excludes it from that pri- vilege. The vulgar adhere to this maxim as lirmly and univerfally as the Philofophers. Their fuper- 3i2 ESSAY VI. CHAP, fuperflitions have the fame origin as the fyftems ^'- of Philofophers, to wit, a defire to knov/ the 'caufes of things. Felix qui potuit rerum cognof- cere can fas ^ is the imiverfal fenfe of men ; but to fay that any thing can happen without a caufe, Ihocks the common fenfe of a favage. This univerfal belief of Tnankind is eafily ac- counted for, if we allow that the neceifity of a caufe of every event is obvious to the rational powers of a man. But it is impoffible to ac- count for it otherwife. It cannot be afcribed to education, to fyftems of philofophy, or to prieftcraft. One would think, that a Philofo- pher who takes it to be a general delufion or prejudice, would endeavour to fhow from what caufes in human nature fuch a general error may take its rife. But I forget that Mr. Hume might anfwer upon his own principles, that fmce things may happen without a caufe, this error and delufion of men may be univerfal without any caufe. A fecond reafon why 1 conceive this to be a firft principle, is, That mankind not only aflent to it in fpeculation, but that the pradice of life is grounded upon it in the mod import- ant matters, even in cafes where experience leaves us doubtful ; and it is impoffible to aft with common prudence if we fet it afide. In great families there are fo many bad things done by a certain perfonage called no- bodvy that it is proverbial, that there is a no- body about every houfe who does a great deal of mifchief; and even where there is the ex- adeft infpedlion and government, many events will happen of which no other author can be found : So that, if we truft merely to expe- rience in this matter, nobody will be found to be Ftrjl Principles of Necejfary Truths. 313 be a very adive perfon, and to have no incon-C HAP. fiderable fliare in the management of affairs. But whatever countenance this fyftem may have from experience, it is too fhocking to common fenfe to impofe upon the moft igno- rant. A child knows, that when his top, or any of his play-things are taken awav, it muft be done by fomebody. Perhaps it would not be difficult to perluade him that it was done by fome invifible being, but that it fhould be done by nobody he cannot believe. Suppofe a man's houfe to be broken open, his money and jewels taken av,^ay. Such things have happened times innumerable with- out yny apparent caufe ; and were he only to reafon from experience in fuch a cafe, how muft he behave ? He muft put in one fcale the inftances wherein a caufe was found of fuch an event, and in the other fcale, the inftances where no caufe was found, and the preponde- rant fcale muft determine, whether it be moft probable that there was a caufe of this event, or that there was none. Would any man of common underftanding have recourfe to fuch an expedient to direfthis judgment ? Suppofe a man to be found dead on the high- way, his fkull fractured, his body pierced with deadly wounds, his watch and money carried off". The coroners jury fits upon the body, and the queftion is put, what was the caufe of this man's death, was it accident, or felo de fe, or murder by perfons unknown ? Let us iuppofe an adept in Mr. Hume's philofophy to make one of the jury, and that he infifts upon the previous queftion, whether there was any caufe of the event, and whether it happened with- out a caufe ^ Surely, 314 ESSAY VI. P- Surely, upon Mr. Hume's principles, a great deal might be faid upon this point j and, if the matter is to be determined by paft expe- rience, it is dubious on which fide the weight of argument might (land. But we may ven- ture to fay, that, if Mr. Hume had been of fuch a jury, he would have laid afide his philo- fophical principles, and a61:ed according to the didates of common prudence. Many pafTages might be produced, even in Mr. Hume's philofophical writings, in which he, unawares, betrays the fame inward con- vifti-on of the neceffity of catifes, which is common to other men. I fhall mention only one, in the Treatife of Human Nature, and in that part of it where he combats this very principle. " As to thofe imprellions, fays he, " which arife from the fenfes, their ultimate " caufe is, in my opinion, perfectly inexpli- " cable by human reafon ; and it will always *' be impollible to decide with certainty, whe- " ther they arife immmediately from the ob- " jc£l, or are produced by the creative power " of the mind, or are derived from the Au- " thor of our being." Among thefe alternatives, he never thought of their not arifing from any caufe. The arguments which Mr. Hume offers to prove that this is not a felf-evident principle, are three. FirJ}^ That all certainty arifes from a comparifon of ideas, and adifcovery of their unalterable relations, none of which relations imply this propofition. That whatever has a beginning muft have a caufe of exiflence. This theory of certainty has been examined before. The iirji Principles of Necejfary Truths. 3 1 5 The fecond argument is, That whatever wc C H A P. can conceive is pofllble. This has Hkewife ^^• been examined. The third argument is, That what we call a caufe, is only fomething antecedent to, and always conjoined with the eiieft. This is alfo one of Mr. Hume's peculiar doctrines, which we may have occaf.on to conhder afterv/ards. it is fufficient here to obferve, that we may learn from it that night is the caufe of day, and day the caufe of night : For no two things have more condantly followed each other fmce the beginning of the world. The lajl metaphyfical principle I mention, which is oppofed by the fame author, is. That dcfign, and intelligence in the caufe, may be inferred, with certainty, from marks or figns of it in the effeft. Intelligence, defign, and fkill, are not ob- jedls of the external fenfes, nor can we be con- fcious of them in any perfon but ourfelves. Even in ourfelves, we cannot, with propriety, be faid to be confcious of the natural or acqui- red talents we poflefs. We are confcious only of the operations of mind in which they are ex- erted. Indeed, a man comes to know his own mental abilities, jufl: as he knows another man's, by the eft'ecls they produce, when there is occafion to put them to exercife. A mans wifdom is known to us only by the figns of it in his condud ; his eloquence by the figns of it in his fpeech. In the fame manner we judge of his virtue, of his fortitude, and of all his talents and virtues. Yet it is to be obferved, that we judge of mens talents with as Httle doubt or hefitation as we judge of tlie immediate objects of fenfe. One 3i6 ESSAY VI. One perfon, we are fure, is a perfect idiot ; another, who feigns idiocy to fcreen himfelf from punifhment, is found upon trial to have the underftanding of man, and to be account- able for his condutt. We perceive one man to be open, another cunning ; one to be ig- norant, another very knowing ; one to be flow of underftanding, another quick. Every man forms fuch judgments of thofe he conver- fes with ; and the common affairs of life de- pend upon fuch judgments. We can as little avoid them as we can avoid feeing what is be- fore our eyes. From this it appears, that it is no lefs a part of the human conftitution, to judge of mens charafters, and of their intelle6:ual powers, from the figns of them in their actions and dif- courfe, than to judge of corporeal objeds by our fenfes : That fuch judgments are common to the whole human race that are endowed with underftanding ; and that they are abfolutely neceflary in the conduct of life. Now, every judgment of this kind we form, is only a particular application of the general principle, that intelligence, wifdom, and other mental qualities in the caufe, may be inferred from their marks or figns in the effed. The adions and difcourfes of men are effedls, of v/hich the aQors and fpeakers are the caufes. The eft'eds are perceived by our fenfes ; but the caufes are behind the fcene. We only con- clude their exiftence and their degrees from our obfervation of the eftefts. From wife conduft we infer wifdom in the caufe ; from brave aftions we infer courage j and fo in other cafes. This Tirjl Principles of Necejfary Truths. 3 1 7 This inference is made with perfect fecurityC HAP. by all men. We cannot avoid it ; it is ne- ^^• cefTary in the ordinary conduct of life ; it has' *"*"' therefore the flrongefl marks of being a firft principle. Perhaps fome may think that this principle may be learned either by reafoning or by ex- perience, and therefore that there is no ground to think it a fird principle. If it can be fliewn to be got by reafoning, by all, or the greater part of thofe who are governed by it, I fliall very readily acknow- ledge that it ought not to be efteemed a firfl principle. But 1 apprehend the contrary ap- pears from very convincing arguments. Fii'Ji, The principle is too univerfal to be the effect of reafoning. It is common to Phi- lofophers and to the vulgar ; to the learned and the mod illiterate ; to the civilized and to the favage : And of thofe who are governed by it, not one in ten thoufand can give a reafon for it. Secondly, We find Philofophers, ancient and modern, who can reafon excellently in fubjefts that admit of reafoning, when they have occafion to defend this principle, not of- fering reafons for it, or any medium of proof, but appealing to the common fenfe of man- kind ; mentioning particular inflances, to make the abfurdity of the contrary opinion more apparent, and fometimes ufmg the wea- pons of wit and ridicule, which are very pro- per weapons for refuting abfurdities, but al- together improper in points that are to be de- termined by reafoning. To confirm this obfervation, I (hall quote two authors, an ancient and a modern, who have 3i8 ESSAY VI. CHAP, have more exprefsly undertaken the defence of ^^- this principle than any others I remember to have met with, and whofe good fenfe and abi- lity to reafon, where reafoning is proper, will not be doubted. The firft is Cicero, whofe words, lib. i. cap, 13. De divinations, may be thus tranilat- ed. " Can any thing done by chance have all *' the marks of defign ? Four dice may by " chance turn up four aces ; but do you think " that four hundred dice, thrown by chance, " will turn upfour hundred acesPColours thrown " upon canvas without defign may have fome *' fmiilitude to a human face ; but do you " think they might make as beautiful a pifture " as that of the Coan Venus ? A hog turning *' up the ground with his nofe may make " fomething of the form of the letter A ; but " do you think that a hog might defcribe on " the ground the Andromache of Ennius ? " Carneades imagined, that in the ftone " quarries at Chios he found, in a ftone that *' was fplit, a reprefentation of the head of a " little Pan, or fylvan deity. I believe he " might find a figure not unlike ; but furcly " not fuch a one as you would fay had been " formed by an excellent Sculptor like Scopas. " For fo, verily, the cafe is, that chance never " perfedily imitates defign." Thus Cicero. Now, in all this difcourfe I fee very good fenfe, and what is apt to convince every un- prejudiced mind ; but I fee not in the whole a lingle ftep of reafoning. It is barely an appeal to every man's common fenfe. Let Firjl Principles of NeceJJary truths. 319 Let us next fee how the fame point is hand-C HAP. led by the excellent Archbifliop Tillotson, ^'^• I (I Sermon, vol. 1. ""'"^ " For I appeal to any man of reafon, whe- *' ther any thing can be more unreafonable, *' than obllinately to impute an effecl to chance " which carries in the face of it all the argu- " ments and characters of defign? Was ever " any confiderable work, in which there was " required a great variety of parts, and an " orderly and regular adjuftment of thefe " parts, done by chance? Will chance fit '* means to ends, and that in ten thoufand in- " fiances, and not fail in any one? Kow often " might a man, after he had jumbled a fet of " letters in a bag, fling them out upon the " gound before they would fall into an exact " poem, yea or fo much as make a good dif- *' courfe in profe? And may not a little book " be as enfily made as this great volume of the *' world? How long might a man fprinkle co- " lours upon canvas with a carelefs hand before " they would make the exaft pifture of a man? " And is a man eafier made by chance than " his picture? How long might twenty thou- " fand blind men, which fliould be fent out *' from the remote parts of England, wander *' up and down before they would all meet up- " on SaUfbury plains, and fall into rank and " file in the exaCt order of an army? And yet " this is much more eafy to be imagined than *' how the innumerable blind parts of matter " fliould rendezvous themfelves into a world. " A man that fees Henry the Seventh's chapel " at Wcflminfler might with as good reafon " maintain, (yea and much better, confider- " ing the vail difference between that little ** flruCture 320 ESSAY VL C H A P. «« jlrudure 2.nd the huge fabric of the world), " that it was never contrived or built by any ^^^*'''^" man, but that the ftones did by chance grow " into thofe curious figures into which we fee " them to have been cut and graven; and that " upon a time (as tales ufually begin), the " materials of that building, the (lone, mor- " tar, timber, iron, lead, and glafs, happily " met together, and very fortunately ranged " themfelves into that delicate order in which ** we fee them now fo clofe compadted, that it " muit be a very great chance that parts them " again. What would the world think of a *' man that fiiould advance fuch an opinion as " this, and write a book for it? If they would " do him right, they ought to look upon him " as mad. But yet he might maintain this opi- " nion with a little more reafon than any man *' can have to fay that the world was made by *' chance, or that the ,firft men grew out of the " earth, as plants do now. For can any thing " be more ridiculous and againfl all reafon, " than to afcribe the production of men to the " firfl fruitfulnefs of the earth, without fo " much as one inflance or experiment in any " age or hiftory to countenance fo monftrous " a fuppofition? The thing is at firft fight fo *' grofs and palpable, that no difcourfe about '' it can make it more apparent. And yet " thefe fhameful beggars of principles, who " give this precarious account of the original *' of things, affume to themfelves to be the '* men of reafon, the great wits of the world, " the only cautious and wary perfons, who '* hate to be impofed upon, that mufl have " convincing evidence for every thing, and can *' admit nothing without a clear demonfl:ration « for it." In Firjl Principles of Neccjfary Truths, 331 In this paflage, the excellent author takes CHAP, what I conceive to be the proper method of ^^• refuting an abfurdity, by expofing it in dif- ferent lights, in which every man of common underftanding perceives it to be ridiculous. And although there is much good fenfc, as well as wit, in the paflage I have quoted, I cannot find one medium of proof in the whole. I have met with one or two refpedable au- thors who draw an argument from the dodrine of chances, to (hew how improbable it is that a recular arrangement of parts fhould be the cffed of chance, or that it fhould not be the efFeft of defign. I do not object to this reafoning; but I would obferve, that the doctrine of chances is a branch of mathematics little more than an hundred years old. But the conclufion drawn from it has been held by all men from the be- ginning of the world. It cannot, therefore, be thought that men have been led to this con- clufion by that reafoning. Indeed, it may be doubted whether the firft principle upon which all the mathematical reafoning about chances is grounded, is more felf-evident than this con- clufion drawn from it, or whether it is not a particular inftance of that general conclufion. We are next to confider whether we may not learn this truth from experience. That ef- fedls which have all the marks and tokens of defign mufl: proceed from a defigning caufe. I apprehend that we cannot learn this truth from experience, for two reafons. Firft ^ Becaufe it is a necefl'ary truth, not a contingent one. It agrees with the experience of mankind fince the beginning of the world. Vol. II. Y ' that 322 ESSAY VI. C H A P. that the area of a triangle is equal to half the ^^- reftangle under its bafc and perpendicular. It agrees no lefs with experience, that the fun rifes in the eafl and fets in the weft. So far as experience goes, thefe truths are upon an equal footing. But every man perceives this diftinction between them, that the firft is a necefi'ary truth, and that it is impofiible it ihould not be true; but the laft is not necef- fary, but contingent, depending upon the will of him who made the world. As we cannot learn from experience that twice three muft ne- ceflarily make fix, fo neither can we learn from experience that certain efrecls muft proceed from a defigning and intelligent caufe. Expe- rience informs us only of what has been, but never of what muft be. . Secondly^ It may be obferved, that experi- ence can ftiow a connedion between a fign, and the thing fignified by it, in thofe cafes only, where both the fign and thing fignified are perceived, and have always been perceived in . conjuncl;iQi,v But if there be any cafe where the fign only Is perceived, experience can ne- ver fnew its connexion with the thing fignified. Thus, for exaraple, thought is a fign of a thinking principle or mind. But how do we , know that thought cannot be without a mind. If any man fiiould iiiy that he knows this by experienqe, h^ deceives himfelf. It is impof- fiblc he can have any experience of this ; be- caufe, though we have an im.niediate know- ledge of the exiftence of thought in ourfelves by confcigufnefs, yet we have no immediate knaw ledge of a rnind. The mind is not an iift]|Heaiate, object either of fenfe or of confci- oufnefs. We may therefore juftly conclude, that Firjl Principles of Necejfary Truths. 323 that the neceflary connection between thought ^ HAP. and a mind, or thinking being, is not learned ^Ji^ from experience. The fame reafoning may be applied to the connexion between a work excellently fitted f6r fome purpofe, and defign in the author or caufe of that work. One of thefe, to v/it, the work, may be an immediate obje«ft of per- ception. But the defign and purpofe of the author cannot be an immediate objed of per- ception; and therefore experience can never inform us of any connection between the one and the other, far lefs of a neceflary connec- tion. Thus I think it appearSj that the {)rinciple we have been confidering, to wit, that from certain figns or indications in the effeft, we may infer, that there mull have been intelli- gence, wifdom, or other intelledual or moral qualities in the caufe, is a principle which we get, neither by reafoning nor by experience; and therefore, if it be a true principle, it mud be a firft principle. There is in the human underftanding a light, by which we fee imme- diately the evidence of it, when there is occa- fion to apply it. Of how great importance this principle is in common life, we have already obferved. And I need hardly mention its importance in natural theology. The clear marks and fignatures of wifdom, power and goodnefs, in the conflitution and government of the world, is, of all arguments that have been advanced for the being and pro- vidence of the Deity, that which in all ages has made the ftrongeft impreffion upon candid and thinking minds; an argument, which has Y 2 this 3*4 ESSAY VI. CHAP, this peculiar advantage, that it gathers ^^- llrength as human knowledge advances, and ""^ is more convincing at prefent than it was fomc centuries ago. King Alphonsus might fay, that he could contrive a better planetary fyflem than that which Allronomers held in his day. That fyflem was not the Vvork of God, but the fic- tion of men. But fmce the true fyflem of the fun, moon, and planets, has been difcovered, no man, however atheiflically difpofed, has pretended to fhew how a better could be contrived. When we attend to the marks of good con- trivance which appear in the works of God, every difcovery we make in the conftitution of the material or intelledual fyflem becomes a hymn of praife to the great Creator and Go- . vernor of the world. And a man who is pof- fefl'ed of the genuine fpirit of philofophy will think it impiety to contaminate the Divine workmanfliip, by mixing it with thofe fitlions of human fancy, called theories and hypothefes, which will always bear the fignatures of human folly, no Icfs than the other does of Divine wildom. I know of no perfon who ever called in quef- tion the principle now under cur confideration, when it is applied to the aftions and difcour- fes of men : For this would be to deny that we have any means of difcerning a wife man from an idiot, or a man that is illiterate in the higheii: degree from a man of knowledge and learning, which no man has the effrontery to deny. But, in all ages, thofe who have been un- friendiy to the principles of religion, have made Firji Principles of Necejfary Truths. 325 made attempts to weaken the force of the ar- C H A P. gument for the exiflence and perfcdions of ^^• the Deity, which is founded on this principle. '^-"-^'^^ That argument has got the name of the argu- ment from final caufes ; and as the meaning of this name is well underflood, we fliall ufe it. The argument from final caufes, when redu- ced to a fyllogifm, has thefe two premifes : Firji, That defign and intelligence in the caufe, may, with certainty, be inferred from marks or figns of it in the effeft. This is the prin- ciple we have been confidering, and we may call it the major propofition of the argument. The fecond, which we call the minor propofiti- on, is, That there are in fad the clearefl marks of defign and wifdom in the works of Nature ; and the conclufion is, that the works of Nature are the effeds of a wife and intelli- gent caufe. One mud either aflent to the con- clufion, or deny one or other of the premifes. Thofe among the ancients who denied a God or a Providence, feem to me to have yielded the major propofition, and to have de- nied the minor ; conceiving that there are not in the conftitution of things fuch marks of wife contrivance as are fufficient to put the conclufion beyond doubt. This, I think, we may learn, from the reafoning of Cotta the Academic, in the third book of Cicero, of the Nature of the Gods. The gradual advancement made in the know- ledge of Nature hath put this opinion quite out of countenance. When the ftructure of the human body was much lefs known than it is now, the famous Galen faw fuch evident marks of wife contri- vance 326 ESSAY VI. CHAP, vance in it, • that though he had been educated ^^^.^^ an Epicurean, he renounced that fyftem, and wrote his book of the ufe of the parts of the human body, on purpofe to convince others of what appeared fo clear to himfelf, that it was impoffible that fuch admirable contrivance fhould be the effect of chance. Thofe, therefore, of later times, who are difiatisfied with this argument from final caufes, have quitted the ftrong hold of the ancient Atheifts, which had become untenable, and have chofen rather to make a defence againft the major propofition. Des Cartes feems to have led the way in this, though he was no Atheift. But, having invented fome new arguments for the being of God, he was perhaps led to difparage thofe that had been ufed before, that he might bring more credit to his own. Or perhaps he Was offended with the Peripatetics, becaufe they often mixed final caufes with phyfical, in order to account for the phaenomena of na- ture. He maintained therefore that phyfical caufes only fhould be afTigned for phsenomena ; that . the Philofopher has nothing to do v/ith final caufes ; and that it is prefumption in us to pre- tend to determine for what end any work of , nature is framed. Some of thofe who were great admirers of Des Cartes, and followed him in many points, difiered from him in this, particularly. Dr. Henry More and the pious Archbifhop Fenelon : But others, after the example of Des Cartes, have (hewn a con- tempt of all reafoning from final caufes. Among thefe, I think, we may reckon Mau- pertuis and Buffon. But the mofl direft attack Firjl Principles of Neceffary Truths, 327 attack has been made upon this principle byCH A p. Mr. Hume, who puts an argument in the ^^• mouth of an Epicurean, on which he feems to ~ ' ~^ lay great flrefs. The argument is. That the univerfe is a An- gular efFeft, and therefore we can draw no conclufion from it, whether it may have been made by wifdom or not. If I underftand the force of this argument, it amounts to this. That, if we had been ac- cuftomed to fee worlds produced, fome by wifdom and others without it, and had ob- ferved, that fuch a world as this which we in- habit was always the effeft of wifdom, we might then, from paft experience, conclude, that this world was made by wifdom ; but hav- ing no fuch experience, we have no means of forming any conclufion about it. That this is the ftrength of the argument, appears, becaufe if the marks of wifdom feen in one world be no evidence of wifdom, the like marks feen in ten thoufand will give as lit- tle evidence, unlefs, in time paft, we perceiv- ed wifdom itfelf conjoined with the tokens of it ; and, from their perceived conjunction in time paft, conclude, that although, in the prefent world, we fee only one of the two, the other muft accompany it. Whence it appears, that this reafoning of Mr. Hume is built on the fappofition, that our inferring defign* from the itrongeft marks of it, is entirely owing to our paft experience of having always found theft two things con- joined. But I hope I have made it evident that this is not the cafe. And indeed it is evident, that, according to this reafoning, we can 328 ESSAY VI. CHAP can have no evidence of mind or defign in any ^^' of our fellow-men. ^■''*^^^ How do I know that any man of my acquain- tance has underftanding ? I never faw his un- derftanding, I fee only certain effefts, which my judgment leads me to conclude to be marks and tokens of it. But, fays the fceptical Philofopher, you can conclude nothing from thefe tokens, unlefs paft experience has informed you that fuch to- kens arc always joined with underftanding. Alas ! Sir, it is impoffible I can ever have this experience. The underftanding^ of another man is no immediate objedl of fight, or of any other faculty which God hath given mc ; and unlefs I can conclude its exiftence from tokens that are vifible, I have no evidence that there is underftanding in any man. It feems then, that the man who maintains, that there is no force in the argument from fi- nal caufcs, muft, if he will be confiftent, fee no evidence of the exiftence of any intelligent being but himfelf. CHAP. OPINIONS about Jirji PRINCIPLES. 329 CHAP. VII. CHAP. VII. Opinions ancient and ?nodern about firjl Princi- ples. Know no writer who has treated exprefsly of firft principles before Aristotle ; but it is probable, that, in the ancient Pythago- rean fchool, from which both Plato and Aristotle borrowed much, this fubjeiSl had not been left untouched. Before the time of Aristoti^e, confidera- ble progrefs had been made in the mathema- tical fciences, particularly in geometry. The difcovery of the forty-feventh propofi- tion of the firft book of Euclid, and of the five regular folids, is, by antiquity, afcribed to Pythagoras himfelf ; and it is impoffible he could : have made thofe difcoveries without knowing many other propofitions in mathema- tics. Aristotle mentions the incommenfu- rability of the diagonal of a fquare to its fide, and gives a hint of the manner in which it was demonflrated. We find likewife fome of the axioms of geometry mentioned by Aristotle as axioms, and as indemonflrable principles of mathematical reafoning. It is probable, therefore, that, before the time of Aristotle, there were elementary Treatifes of geometry, which are now loft ; and that in them the axioms were diftinguifhed from the propofitions which require proof. To fuppofe, that fo perfe£l a fyftem as that of Euclid's Elements was produced by one man, without any .preceding model or mate- rials, 330 ESSAY VI. C H A P. rials, would be to fuppofe Euclid more than ^ ^^- a man* We afcribc to him as much as the v/eaknefs of human underftanding will per- mit, if we fuppofe that the iiivention>s in geo- metry, which had been made in a trad: of pre- ceding ages, were by him not only carried much farther, but digefted into fo admirable a fyftem, that his work obfcured all that went before it, and made them be forgot and loft. Perhaps, in like manner, the writings of Aristotle with regard to lirft principles, and with regard to many other abflraft fubje£tS, may have occafioned the lofs of what had been written upon thofe fubjccts by more ancient Philofophers Whatever may be in this, in his fecond book upon demonft ration he has treated very fully of hrfi principles ; and though he has not attempted any enumeration of thetn, he fiiows very clearly, that all demonftration muft be built upon truths which are evident of them- felvcs, but cannot be demonftrated. His whole doctrine of fyllogifms is grounded upon a few axioms, from which he endeavours to dcmonftrate the rules of fyllogifm in a mathe- matical way ; and in his topics he points out many of the hrlt principles of probable rea- forling. As long as the philofophy of ArisToTLE prevailed, it was held as a fixed point, that all proof muft be drawn from principles already known and granted. We muft obferve, however, that, in that philofophy, many things were affumed as firft principles, which have no juft claim to that charadler ; fuch as, that the earth is at reft ; that Nature abhors a vacuum j that there is no change OPINIONS about firji PRINCIPLES. 33 » change in the heavens above the fphere of the^ HAP. moon ; that the heavenly bodies move in cir- ,^^,^1^ cles, that being the moil perfett figure ; that bodies do not gravitate in their proper place; and many others. The Peripatetic philofophy, therefore, in- ilead of being deficient in firfl principles, was redundant; inllead of rejecting thofe that are truly fuch, it adopted, as tirft principles, many vulgar prejudices and rafii judgments: And this feems in general to have been the fpirit of ancient philofophy. It is true, there vi^ere among the ancients fceptical Philofophers who profefled to have no principles, and held it to be the greateli: virtue in a Philofopher to with-hold allent, and keep his judgment in a perfect equilibrium between contradiftory opinions. But though this fedl was defended by fome perfons of great erudi- tion and acutenefs, it died of itfelf, and the dogmatic philofophy of Aristotle obtained a complete triumph over it. What Mr. Hume favs of thofe who are fcep- tical with regard to moral diftindions, feems to have had its accomplifliment in the ancient fe6t of Sceptics. " The only way, fays Jie, *' of converting antagonifts of this kind, is to " leave them to themfelves ; for finding that " nobody keeps up the controverfy with them, " it is probable they will at laft of themfelves, " from mere wearinefs, come over to the fide " of common fenfe and reafon." Seating afide this fmall fe6t of the Sceptics, which was extinct many ages before the autho- rity of Aristotle declined, I know of no op- pofition made to firfl principles among the an- cients. The difpofition was, as has been ob- ferved, 332 ESSAY VI. CHAP.ferved, not to oppofe, but to multiply them ^^ beyond meafure. Men have always been prone, when they leave one extreme to run into the oppofite ; and this fpirit in the ancient philofophy to multiply firfl: principles beyond reafon, v^'as a flrong prefage, that, when the authority of the Peripatetic fyftem was at an end, the next reigning fyftem would diminifti their number beyond reafon. This accordingly happened in that great re- volution of the philofophical republic brought about by Des Cartes. That truly great re- former in philofophy, cautious to avoid the fnare in which Aristotle was taken, of ad- mitting things as firft principles too rafhly, refolved to doubt of every thing, and to with- hold his alfent, until it was forced by the clear- eft evidence. Thus Des Cartes brought himfelf into that very ftate of fufpenfe, which the ancient Scep- tics recommended as the higheft perfection of a wife man, and the only road to tranquillity of mind. But he did not remain long in this ftate ; his doubt did not arif^ from defpair of finding the truth, but from caution, that he might not be imposed upon, and embrace a cloud inftead of a goddefs. His very doubting convinced him of his own exiftence ; for that which does not exift, can neither doubt, nor believe, nor reafon. Thus he emerged from univcrfal fcepticifm by this fhort enthymeme, cogito ergofum. This enthymeme confifts of an antecedent propofition, / think, and a conclufion drawn from it, therefore J exijl. If OPINIONS about jirjl PRINCIPLES. 333 If it (hould be afked, how Des CartesCHaP. came to be certaiij of the antecedent propofi- ^^^* tion, it is evident, that for this he trulled to' the teftimony of confcioufnefs. He was con- fcious that he thought, and needed no other argument. So that the firfl: principle which he adopts in this famous enthymeme is this. That thofe doubts, and thoughts, and reafonings, of which he was confcious, did certainly exift, and that his confcioufnefs put their exiftencc beyond all doubt. It might have been objeded to this firfl prin- ciple of Des Cartes, how do you know that your confcioufnefs cannot deceive you ? You have fuppofed, that all you fee, and hear, and handle, may be an illufion. Why therefore fhould the power of confcioufnefs have this pre- rogative, to be believed implicitly, when all our other powers are fuppofed fallacious ? To this objedion, I know no other anfwer that can be made, but that we find it impofTiblc to doubt of things of which we are confcious. The conftitution of our nature forces this be- lief upon us irrefiflibly. This is true, and is fufficient to juflify Des Cartes, in affuming, as a firfl principle, the exiflence of thought, of which he was con- fcious. He ought, however, to have gone farther in this track, and to have confidercd whether there may not be other firfl principles which ought to be adopted for the fame reafon. But he did not fee this to be neceffary, conceiving that, upon this one firfl principle, he could fupport the whole fabric of human knowledge. To 334 ESSAY VI. To proceed to the conclufioii of Des Car- TEs's enthymeme. From the exiflence of his thought he infers his own exiflence. Here he afiumcs another firft principle, not a con- tingent, but a necelTary one; to wit, that •where there is thought, there muft be a think- ing being or mind. Having thus eftablifhed his own 'exiftence, he proceeds to prove the exigence of a fupreme and infinitely perfed Being; and, from the perfeftion of the Deity, he infers that his fen- fes, his memory, and the other faculties which God had given him, are not fallacious. Whereas other men, from the beginning of the world, had taken for granted, as a firft principle, the truth and reality of what they perceive by their fenfes, and from thence in- ferred the exiflence of a Supreme Author and Maker of the world, Des Cartes took a con- trary courfe, conceiving that the teflimony of our fenfes, and of all our faculties, excepting that of confcioufnefs, ought not to be taken for granted, but to be proved by argument. Perhaps fome may think that Des Cartes meant only to admit no other firft principle of contingent truths befides that of confcioufnefs; but that he allowed the axioms of mathema* tics, and of other neceffary truths, to be re- ceived vvitbout proof. But I apprehend this was not his intention : For the truth of mathematical axioms muft de- pend upon the truth of the faculty by which we judge of them. If the faculty be fallaci- ous, we may be deceived by trufting to it. Therefore, as he fuppofes that all our faculties, excepting confcioufnefs, may be fallacious, and attempts to prove by argument that they are not. OPINIONS about firji PRINCIPLES. 335 not, it follows, that, according to his princi- CHAP, pies, even mathematical axioms require proof. ^^'• Neither did he allow that there are any necef- *— "^""^ fary truths, but maintained, that the truths which are commonly i'o called, depend upon the will of God. And we find his followers, who may be fuppofed to underftand his princi- ples, agree in maintaining, that the knowledge of our own exiftcnce is the firft and funda- mental principle from which all knowledge mud be deduced by one who proceeds regularly in philofophy. There is, no doubt, a beauty in raifmg a large fabric of knowledge upon a few firfl principles. The (lately fabric of mathematical knowledge, raifed upon the foundation of a few axioms and definitions, charms every be- holder. Des Cartes, who was well acquaint- ed with this beauty in the mathematical fci- ences, feems to have been ambitious to give the fame beautiful fimplicity to his fyftem of philofophy; and therefore fought only one firfl principle as the foundation of all our knowledge, at lead of contingent truths. And fo far has his authority prevailed, that thofe who came after him have almofl univer- fally followed him in this track. This, there- fore, may be confidered as the fpirit of modern philofophy, to allow of no firfl principles of contingent truths but this one, that the thoughts and operations of our own minds, of which we are confcious, are felf-evidently real and true ; but that every thing elfe that is contin- gent is to be proved by argument. The exiilence of a material world, and of what we perceive by our fenfes, is not felf-evi- dent, according to this philofophy. Des Car- tes y:,6 ESSAY VI. CHAP. TES founded it upon this argument, That God, who hath given us our fenfes, and all our fa- culties, is no deceiver, and therefore they are not fallacious. I endeavoured to fhow, that if it be not ad- mitted as a firfl principle, that our faculties are not fallacious, nothing elfe can be admit- ted; and that it is impoilible to prove this by argument, unlefs God fhould give us new faculties to fit in judgment upon the old. Father Malebranche agreed with Des Cartes, that the exiflence of a material world requires proof; but being diifatisfied with Des Cartes's argument from the perfection of the Deity, thought that the only folid proof is from divine revelation. Arnauld, who was engaged in controverfy with Malebranche, approves of his antago- nift in offering an argument to prove the exig- ence of the material world, but objects to the folidity of his arguments, and offers other ar- guments of his own. Mr. Norris, a great admirer of Des Car- tes and of Malebranche, feems to have thought all the arguments offered by them and by Arnauld to be weak, and confeffes that we have at belt only probable evidence of the exiflence of the material world. Mr. Locke acknowledges that the evidence we have of this point is neither intuitive nor demonflrative; yet he thinks it may be called knowledge, and diilinguiiiies it by the name of fenfitive knowledge; and, as the ground of this fenfitive knowledge, he offers fome weak arguments, which would rather tempt one to doubt than to believe. At OPINIONS about firjl PRINCIPLES. zi>1 ht laft Bifhop Berkeley and ArthurCHAP. Collier, without any knowledge of each ^^lll^ other, as far as appears by their writings, un- dertook to prove that there neither is nor can be a material world. The excellent ftyle and elegant compofition of the former have made his writings to be known and read, and this fyftem to be attributed to him only, as if CoLt LiER had never exifted. Both, indeed, owe fo much to Male- BRANCHE, that if we take out ofhisfyflem the peculiarities of our feeing all things in God, and our learning the exiftence of an external world from divine revelation, what remains is juflthe fyftem of Biiliop Berkeley. I make this obfervation by the way, injuftice to a foreign au- thor, to whom Britifh authors feem not to have allowed all that is due. Mr. Hume hath adopted Bifhop Berke- ley's arguments againft the exiftence of mat- ter, and thinks them unanfwerable. We may obferve, that this great Metaphyfi- cian, though in general he declares in favour of univerfal fcepticifm, and therefore mav feem to have no firft principles at all, yet, with Des Cartes, he always acknowledges the reality of thofe thoughts and operations of mind of v/hich we are confcious. So that he yields the antecedent of Des Cartes's enthy- meme cogito, but denies the conclufion ergij fu?n, the mind being, according to him, no- thing but that train of imprefhons and ideas of which we are confcious. . Thus we fee, that the modern philofophy, of which Des Cartes may juftly be accounted the founder, being built upon the ruins of the Peripatetic, has a fpirit quite oppofite, and Vol. II. Z runs v.^'v-^^ 338 ESSAY VL C H A P. runs into a contrary extreme. The Peripatetic ^^ _ not only adopted as firft principles thofe which mankind have ahvay refled upon in their mod important tranfaftions, but, along with them, many vulgar prejudices ; fo that this fyflem was founded upon a wide bottom, but in many parts unfound. The modern fyftem has nar- rowed the foundation fo much, that every fu- perftru6lure raifed upon it appears top-heavy. From the fingle principle of the exiflence of our own thoughts, very little, if any thing, can be deduced by juft teafoning, efpecially if we fuppofe that all our other faculties may be fallacious. Accordingly v/e find that Mr. Hume was not the firft that was led int0 fcepticifm by the want of firft principles. For foon after Des Cartes there arofe a feft in France called Egoi/ls, who maintained that Vv^e have no evidence of the exiftence of any thing but ourfelves. Whether thefe Egoifts, like Mr. Hume, be- lieved themfelves to be nothing but a train of ideas and impreffions, or to have a more per- manent exiftcnce, I have not learned, having never feen any of their writings ; nor do I knov/ whether any of this fed did write in fup- port of their principles. One would think, they who did not believe that there was any perfon to read, could have little inducement to write, unlefs they were prompted by that in- ward monitor, which Persius makes to be the fource of genius and the teacher of arts. There can be no doubt, however, of the ex- iftence of fuch a fe£t, as they are mentioned by many Authors, and refuted by feme, par- ticularly by BuEFiER, in his Treatife of firft principles. Thofe OPINIONS ahout firfi PRINCIPLES. 339 Thofe Egoifts and Mr. Hume feem to me toC H A P. have reafoned more confequentially from Des ^^ Cartes principle than he did himfelf ; and in-' deed I cannot help thinking, that all who have followed Des Cartes method, of requiring proof by argument of every thing except the exiftence of their own thoughts, have efcaped the abyfs of fcepticifm by the help of weak reafoning and ftrong faith more than by any other means. And they feem to me to a£t more confiftently, who having rejected the firft principles on which belief muft be grounded, have no belief, than they, who, hke the others, reje£ling firft principles, muft yet have a fyftem of belief, without any folid foundation, on which it may ftand. The Philofophers I have hitherto mentioned, after the time of Des Cartes, have all follow- ed his method, in refting upon the truth of their ov^n thoughts as a firft principle, but re- quiring arguments for the proof of every other truth of a contingent nature ; but none of them, excepting Mr. Locke, has exprefsly treated of firft principles, or given any opinion of their utiUty or inutility. We only colle<5l their opinion from their following Des Cartes in requiring proof, or pretending to offer proof of the exiftence of a material world, which furely ought to be received as a firft principle, if any thing be, beyond what we arc con- fcious of. I proceed, therefore, to confider what Mr. Locke has faid on the fubje£t of firft principles or maxims. I have not the leaft doubt of this author's candour in what he fomewhere fays, that his effay was moftly fpun out of his own thoughts. Z 2 Yet 340 ESSAY VL ^ ^ J^ P- Yet ft is certain, that, in many of the notions • which we are wont to "afcribe to him, others were before him, particularly, Des Cartes, Gassendi, and Hobbes. Nor is it at all to be thought ftrange, that ingenious men, when they are got into the fame track, fhould hit upon the fame things. But, in the definition which he gives of knowledge in general, and in his notions con- cerning axioms or firfl principles, I know none that went before him, though he has been very generally followed in both. His definition of knowledge, that it confifls folely in the perception of the agreement or dif- agreement of our ideas, has been already con- fid ered. But fuppofmg it to be jufl, ftill it would be true, that fome agreements and dif- agreements of ideas mull: be immediately per- ceived ; and fuch agreements or dilagreements, when they are expreiled by affirmative or ne- gative propoliticns, are firfl principles, becaufc their truth is. immediately difccrned as foon as they are underftood. This I think is granted by Mr. Locke, book 4. chap. 2. " lliere is a part of our know- " ledge, fays he, which we may call intuitive. " In this the mind is at no pains of proving or " examining, but perceives the truth as the '* eye does light, only by being diredled to- " ward it. And this kind of knowledge is the " cleareft and mod certain that human frailty " is capable of. This part of knowledge is ir- " refdtible, and, like bright funfhine, forces " itfelf immediately to be perceived, as foc-n '•' as ever the mind turns its view that way." He OPINIONS about firji PRINCIPLES. 341 He farther obferves, "That this intuitive C H A P. '* knowledge is neceflary to connect all the ^'^'^■ " fleps of a denionllration.'* ^ ^ From this, I think, it ncceffarily follows, that, in every branch of knowledge, we mull make ufe of truths that are intuitively known, in order to deduce from them fuch as require proof. But I cannot reconcile this with what he iays, feft. 8. of the fame chapter. " The ne- *' ceflity of this intuitive knowledge in every *' ftep of fcientifical or demonftrative reafoning " gave occafion, I imagine, to that miftaken *' axiom, that all reafoning was ck pracognitis " et pra^concejjls , which, how far it is miftaken, *' I fhall have occafion to (liew more at large, ^^ when I come to confider proportions, and " particularly thofe proportions which are call- ^' ed maxims, and to Ihew, that it is by a mif- *' take that they are fuppofed to be the foun- " dation of all our knowledge and reafonings.'* 1 have carefully confidered the chapter on maxims, which Mr. Locke here refers to ; and though one would expecl:, from the quotation laft made, that it fhould run contrary to what I have before delivered concerning firfl princi- ples, I find only two or three fentences in it, and thofe chiefly incidental, to which I do not aflent ; and I am always happy in agreeing with a Philofopher whom I fo highly refpeft. He endeavours to fhow, that axioms or in- tuitive truths are not innate. To this I agree. I maintain only, that when the underflanding is ripe, and when we dif- tinctly apprehend fuch truths, we immediately aflent to them. He 342 ESSAY Vr. C HA P, He obferves, that felf-evidence is not pecu- ■ ^ liar to thofe propofitions which pafs under the name of axioms, and have the dignity of axi- oms afcribed to them. I grant that there are innumerable felf-evident propofitions, which have neither dignity nor utility, and therefore deferve not the name of axioms, as that name is commonly underftood to imply not only felf-evidence, but fome de- gree of dignity or utility. That a man is a man, and that a man is not a horfe, are felf- evident propofitions ; but they are, as Mr. Locke very juilly calls them, trifling propofiti- ons. TiLLOi SON very wittily fays of fuch pro- pofitions, that they are fo furfeited with truth, that they are good for nothing ; and as they deferve not the name of axioms, fo neither do they deferve the name of knowledge. He obferves, that fuch trifling felf-evident propofitions as we have named are not derived from axioms, and therefore that all our know- ledge is not derived from axioms. I grant that they are not derived from axi- oms, becaufe they are themfelves felf-evident. But it is an abufe of words to call them know- ledge, as it is, to call them axioms; for no man can be faid to be the wifer or more knowing for having millions of them in ftore. He obferves, that the particular propofitions contained under a general axiom are no lefs felf-evident than the general axiom, and that they are fooner known and underftood. Thus it is as evident, that my hand is lefs than my body, as that a part is lefs than the whole ; and I know the truth of the particular propofition, looner than that of the general. - This OPINIONS about firjl PRINCIPLES. 343 This is true. A man cannot perceive the^ ^^ ^ P* truth of a general axiom, fuch as, that a part is lefs than the whole, until he has the general notions of a part and a whole formed in his mind j and before he has thefe general notions, he may perceive that his hand is lefs than his body. A great part of this chapter on maxims is levelled againft a notion, which, it feems, fomc have entertained, that all our knowledge is de- rived from thefe two maxims, to wit, whate- ver is, is ; and it is impoffible for the fame thing to be, and not to be. This I take to be a ridiculous notion, juilly deferving the treatment which Mr. Locke has given it, if it at all merited his notice. Thefe are identical propofitions ; they are trifling, and furfeited with truth : No knowledge can be derived from them. Having mentioned how far I agree with Mr. Locke concerning maxims or iirft principles, i Ihall next take notice of two or three things, wherein I cannot agree with him. In the feventh fedion of this chapter, he fays. That concerning the real exiftence of all other beings, befides ourfelves, and a lirfl: caufe, there are no maxims. I have endeavoured to fliow that there are maxims or firft principles with regard to other cxiftences. Mr. Locke acknowledges that we have a knowledge of fuch exifliences, which, he fays, is neither intuitive nor demonflrative, and which therefore he calls fenfitive know- ledge. It is demonftrable, and was long ago demonftrated by Aristotle, that every pro- pofition to which we give a rational affent, muft either have its evidence in itfelf, or derive it from 344 ESSAY VI. CHAP. from fome antecedent propofitlon. And the ^^^' fame thing may be faid of the antecedent pro- " "' pofition. A-s therefore we cannot go back to antecedent propofitions without end, the evi- dence mud at lafl reft upon propofitions, one or more, which have their evidence in them- felves, that is, upon firft principles. As to the evidence of our own exiftence, and of the exiftence of a firft caufe, Mr. I.ocke does not fay whether it refts upon firft princi- ples or not. But it is m.anifeft, from what he has faid upon both, that it does. With regard to our own exiftence, fays he, we perceive it fo plainly, and fo certainly, that it neither needs nor is capable of any proof. This is as much as to fay, that our own exift- ence is a firft principle ; for it is applying to this truth the very definition of a firlt principle. He adds, that if I doubt, that very doubt makes me perceive my own exiftence, and will not fufter me to doubt of that. If I feel pain, I have as certain perception of my exiftence as of the pain I feel. Here we have two firft principles plainly im- plied : Firyl, That my feeling pain, or being confcious of pain, is a certain evidence ot the real exiftence of that pain. And, fccondly. That pain cannot cxift vi'ithout a mind, or be- ing that is pained. That thefe are firft princi- ples, and incapable of proof, Mr. Locke ac- knowledges. And it is certain, that if they are not true, we can have no evidence of our own exiftence. For if we may feel pain when no pain really exifts, or if pain may exift with- out any being that is pained, then it is certain that our feeling pain can give us no evidence of our exiftence. Thus OPINIONS about firjh PRINCIPLES. 345 Thus it appears, that the evidence of ourC HA P. own exiftence, according to the view that Mr. ' Locke gives of it, is grounded upon two of "^ '~ thofe firft principles which we had occafion to mention. If we confider the argument he has given for the exiftence of a firft intelligent caufe, it is no lefs evident that it is grounded upon other two of them. The firCc, That what begins to exilt muft have a caufe of its exiftence ; and the fe- cond. That an unintelligent and unthinking being, cannot be the caufe of beino-s that are thinking and intelligent. Upon thefe two prin- ciples, he argues very convincingly for the ex- iftence of a firft intelligent caufe of thing?. And, if thefe principles are not true, we can have no proof of the exiftence of a firft caufe, either from our own exiftence, or from the ex- iftence of other things that fall Vv^ithiii our view. Another thing advanced by Pvlr. Locke upon this fubjcd, is, that no fcience is, cr hath been built upon maxims. Surely Mr. Locke was not Ignorant of geo- metry, which hath been built upon maxims prefixed to the elements, as far back as we are able to trace it. But though they had not been prefixed, which was a matter of utility rather than neceftify, yet it muft be granted, that every demonftration in geometry is grounded, either upon propofitions formerly demonftrated, or upon felf-evident principles. Mr. Locke farther fays, that maxims arc not of ufe to help men forward in the advance- ment of the fciences, or new difcoveries of yet unknown truths : That Nlwton, in the dif- coveries he has made in his never enough to be admired book, has not been alufted by the general 346 ESSAY VI. C H A P. general maxims, whatever is, is ; or the whole 1^ .'_( ^^ gi"eater than a part, or the like. I anfwer, the fir ft of thefe is, as was before obferved, an identical trifling propofition, of no ufe in mathematics, or in any other fcience. The fecond is often ufed by Newton, and by all Mathematicians, and many demonftratlons reft upon it. In general, Newton, as well as all other Mathematicians, grounds his demon- ftratlons of mathematical propofitions upon the axioms laid down by Euclid, or upon propo- rtions which have been before demonftrated by help of thofe axioms. But it deferves to be particularly obferved, that Newton, intending in the third book of his Pri7icipia, to give a more fcientific form to the phyfical part of aftronomy, which he had at firft compofed in a popular form, thought proper to follow the example of Euclid, and to lay down firft, in what he calls, Regul^e Philofo- phandi^ and in his Phanojnena, the firft princi- ples which he aflumes in his reafoning. Nothing, therefore, could have been more unluckily adduced by Mr. Locke to fupport his averfion to firft principles, than the exam- ple of Sir Isaac Nlwton, who, by laying down the firft principles upon which he reafons in thofe parts of natural philofophy which he cultivated, has given a ftability to that fcience which it never had before, and which it will retain to the end of the world. I am now to give fome account of a Philo- fopher, who wrote exprefsly on the fubjed of nrft principles, after Mr. Locke, PiRE BuFFiER, a French Jefuit, firft pub- lift^ed his Traite des premiers Veritez, et de la fource de nosjugements, in 8vo, if I miftake not, in OPINIONS about Jlrji PRINCIPLES. 347 in the year 1724. It was afterwards publiflied CHAP, in folio, as a part of his Cours dcs fcicnces. \, Paris ^ I J ^2. He defines firft principles to be propofitions fo clear, that they can neither be proved, nor combated by thofe that are more clear. The firfl fource of firft principle? he men- tions, is, that intimate convidion which every man has of his own exiftence, and of what pafles in his own mind. Some Philofophers, he obferves, admitted thefe as firft principles, who were unwilling to admit any others ; and he fhows the ftrange confequences that follow from this fyftem. A fccond fource of firfl principles he makes to be common fenfe \ which, he obferves, Philofophers have not been wont to confider. He defines it to be, the difpofition which Na- ture has planted in all men, or the far greater part, which leads them, when they come to the ufe of reafon, to form a common and uni- form judgment upon objefts which are not objcdls of confcioufnefs, nor are founded on any antecedent judgment. He mentions, not as a full enumeration, but as a fpecimen, the following principles of common fenfe. I . That there are other beings, and other men in the univerfe, befides myfelf. 1. That there is in them fomething that is called truth, wifdom, prudence, and that thefc things are not purely arbitrary. 3. That there is fomething in me which I call intelligence, and fomething which is not that intelligence, which I call my body, and that thcfe things have dift'erent properties. 4. That 348 ESSAY VI. - CHAP. ^j. That all men are not in a confpiracy to "• deceive me and impofe upon my credulity. 5. That what has not intelligence cannot produce the effedls of intelligence, nor can pieces of matter thrown together by chance form any regular work, fych as a clock or watch. He explains very particularly the feveral parts of his definition of common fenfe, and fliews how the didates of common fenfe may be diftinguifhed from common prejudices ; and then enters into a particular confideration of the primary truths that concern being in ge- neral ; the truths that concern thinking beings ; thofe that concern body ; and thofe on which the various branches of human knowledge are grounded. I (hall not enter into a detail of his fenti- jnents on thefe fubjects. I think there is more which I take to be original in this treatife, than in mofl books of the metaphyfical kind I have met with ; that many of his notions are . folid ; and that others, which I cannot altoge^ ther approve, are ingenious. The other writers I have m.entioned, after Des Cartes, may, I think, without impro- priety, be called Cartefians : For though they differ from Des Cartes in fome things, and contradift him in others, yet they fet out from the fame principles, and follow the fame me- thod, admitting no other firft principle with regard to the exiflence of things but their own exiitence, and the exiflence of thofe operati- ons of mind of which they are confcious, and re- quiring that the exiflence of a material world, and the exiflence of other men and things, fliould be proved by argument. This OPINIONS about firj} PRINCIPLES. 549 This method of philofophifing Is common to C H A P. Des Cartes, Malebranche, Arnauld, ^'^^• Locke, Norris, Collier, Berkeley, and Hume ; and, as it was introduced by Des Cartes, I call it the Cartefian fyflem, and thofe who follow it Cartefians, not intending any difrefpedt by this 4erm, but to fignify a particular method of philofdphifmg common to them all, and begun by Des Cartes. Some of thefe have gone the utmofl length in fcepticifm, leaving no exiftence in Nature but that of ideas and imprellions. Some have endeavoured to throw off the belief of a mate- rial world only, and to leave us ideas and fpi- rits. All of them have fallen into very grofs paradoxes, which can never fit eafy upon the human underftanding, and which, though adopted in the clofet, men find themfelves un- der a neceffity of throwing off and difclaiming when they enter into fociety. Indeed, in my judgment, thofe who have reafoned moil acutely and confequentially up- on this fyflem, are they that have gone decpeft into fcepticifm. Father Buffier, however, is no Cartefian in this fenfe. He feems to have perceived the defeats of the Cartefian fyflem while it was in the meridian of its glory, and to have been aware that a ridiculous fcepticifm is the natu- ral iffue of it, and therefore nobly attempted to lay a broader foundation for human knowledge, and has the honour of being the firfl, as far as I know, after Aristotle, who has given the world a juft treatife upon firll principles. Some late writers, particularly Dr. Oswald, Dr. Beattie, and Dr. Campbell, have been led into a way of thinking fomewhat fimilar to that 35o' ESSAY VI. CHAP, that of Buffier; the two former, as I have ■'-• reafon to believe, without any intercourfe wfth one another, or any knowledge of what Buffier had wrote on the fubje^t. Indeed, a man who thinks, and who is acquainted with the philolbphy of Mr. Hume, will very naturally be led to apprehend, that, to fupport the fabric, of human knowledge, fome other principles are neceffary than thofe of Des Car- tes and Mr. Locke. Buffier muft be ac- knowledged to have the merit of having dif- covered this, before the confequences of the Cartefian fyitem were fo fully difplayed as they have been by Mr. Hume. But I am apt to think, that the man who does not fee this noM', muft have but a fuperficial knowledge of thefe fubjed:s. The three writers above mentioned have my high efteem and affeftion as men ; but I in- tend to fay nothing of them as writers upon this fubjed, that I may not incur the cenfure of partiahty. Two of them have been joined fo clofely with me in the animadverlions of a celebrated writer, that we may be thought too near of kin to give our teftimony of one ano- ther. CHAP. Of PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. 35^ CHAP. Vlil. CHAP. VIII. Of Prejudices, the Caufes of Error. U R intelle£tual powers are wifely fitted by the Author of our nature for the dif- covery of truth, as far as fuits our prefent flate. Error is not their natural iffue, any more than difeafe is of the natural flrufture of the body. Yet, as we are liable to various difeafes of body from accidental caufes, exter- nal and internal ; fo we are, from like caufes, liable to wrong judgments. Medical writers have endeavoured to enu- merate the difeafes of the body, and to reduce them to a fyftem, under the name of nofology ; and it were to be wifhed that we had alfo a nofology of the human underftanding. When we know a diforder of the body, we are often at a lofs to find the proper remedy ; but in moft cafes the diforders of the under- ftanding point out their remedies fo plainly, that he who knows the one mufl know the other. Many authors have furnifhed ufeful materi- als for this purpofe, and fome have endeavour- ed to reduce them to a fyftem. I like beft the general diviiion given of them by Lord Bacon in his fifth book De aiigmentis fcientiarum, and more fully treated in his Novum Organum, He divides them into four clalTes, idola tribus, idola fpecus, idola fori, and idola theairi. The names are perhaps fanciful ; but I think the divifion judicious, like moft of the producti- ons of that wonderful genius. And as this di- vifion was firft made by him, he may be in- dulged SS2 ESSAY VI. CHAP dulgcJ the privilege of giving names to its fe- veral members. ^"^"^^'"^ 1 prcpofe in this chapter to explain the feve- ral members of this divifion, according to the meaning of the author, and to give inflances of each, without confining myfelf to thofe which Lord Bacon has given, and without pretending to complete enumeration. To every bias of the underftanding, by which a man may be mified in judging, or drawn into error, Lord Bacon gives the name of an idol. The underllanding, in its natural and bed: Itate, pays its homage to truth only. The caufes of error are confidered by him as fo many falfe deities, who receive the homage which is due only to truth. The firft clafs are the idola tribus. Thefe are fuch as befet the whole human fpecies; fo that every m^an is in danger from them. They arife from principles of the human conflitution, which are highly ufeful and neceflary in our prefent flate ; but, by their excefs or defect, , or uTong diredion, may lead us into error. As the aclive principles of the human frame are wifely contrived by the Author of our be- iiig for the diredion of our aftions, and yet, without proper regulation and reftraint, are apt to lead us wrong ; fo it is alfo with regard to thofe parts of our conftitution that have in- fluence upon our opinions. Of this we may take the following inltances: I. Firjr^ Men arc prone to be led too much bv authority in their opinions. In the firft part of life we have no other guide; and without a difpofition to receive im- plicitly what we are taught, we fliould be in- capable Of PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. 353 capable of inftruclion, and incapable of im-CHAP, provement. ^^^^• When judgment is ripe, there are many things in which we are incompetent judges. In fuch matters, it is moft reafonable to rely upon the judgment of thofe whom we believe to be competent and difinterefled. The higheft court of judicature in the nation relies upon the authority of lawyers and phyficians in mat- ters belonging to their refpedive profeffions. Even in matters which we have accefs to know, authority always will have, and ought to have more or lefs weight, in proportion to the evidence on which our own judgment refls, and the opinion we have of the judgment and candour of thofe who differ from us, or agree with us. The modeft man, confcious of his own fallibility in judging, is in danger of giv- ing too much to authority; the arrogant of giv- ing too little. In all matters belonging to our cognifance, every man mult be determined by his own final judgment, otherwife he does not a6l the part of a rational being. Authority may add weight to one fcale; but the man holds the balance, and judges what weight he ought to allow to authority. If a man fhould even claim infallibility, we muft judge of his title to that prerogative. If a man pretend to be an Ambaflador from hea- ven, we muft judge of his credentials. No claim can deprive us of this right, or excufe us for negleding to exercife it. As therefore our regard to authority may be either too great or too fmall, the bias of human nature feems to lean to the firil of thefe ex- VoL. II. A a tremesj 354 ESSAY vt; C H A p. trcmes; and I believe it is good for men in VIII. general that it fhould do fo. ^ ^ Y. hen this bias concurs with an indifference about truth, its operation will be the more powerful. The love of truth is natural to man, and jR:rong in every well-difpofed mind. But it may be overborn by party-zeal, by vanity, by the defire of viftory, or even by lazinefs. When it is fuperior to thefe, it is a manly vir- tue, and requires the exercife of induftry, for- titude, felf-denial, candour, and opennefs to conviftion. As there are perfons in the world of fo mean and abjeft a fpirit, that they rather chufe to owe their fubfiftence to the charity of others, than by induftry to acquire fome property of their own; fo there are many more who may be called mere beggars with regard to their opinions. - Through lazinefs and indifference about truth, they leave to others the drudgery of digging for this commodity ; they can have enough at fecond hand to ferve their occafions. Their concern is not to know what is true, but what is faid and thought onfuch fubjefts; and their underftanding, like their cloaths, is cut according to the fafliion. This diftemper of the underftanding has taken fo deep root in a great part of mankind, that it can hardly be faid that they ufe their own judgment in things that do not concern their temporal intereft; nor is it peculiar to the ignorant; it infefts all ranks. We may guefs their opinions when we know where they were born, of v.fhat parents, how educated, and what company they have kept. Thefe cir- cumftances determine their opinions in religi- on, in politics, and in philofophv. 2. A 0/ PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR, 355 2. A fecond general prejudice arifes from aC H A P. difpofition to meafure things lefs known, and ^^^^.^^ lefs familiar, by thofe that are better known and more familiar. This is the foundation of analogical reafon- ing, to which we have a great pronenefs by- nature, and to it indeed we owe a great part of our knowledge. It would be abfurd to lay afide this kind of reafoning altogether, and it is difficult to judge how far we may venture upon it. The bias of human nature is to judge from too flight analogies. The objeds of fenfe engrofs our thoughts in the firil part of life, and are mofl familiar through the whole of it. Hence in all ages men have been prone to attribute the human figure and human paffions and frailties to fupe- rior intelligences, and even to the Supreme Being. There is a difpofition in men to materialize every thing, if I may be allowed the exprellion ; that is, to apply the notions we have of mate- rial obje£ls to things of another nature. Thought is confidered as analogous to motion in a body; and as bodies are put in motion by impulfes, and by impreffions made upon them by contiguous objeds, we are apt to conclude that the mind is made to think by impreffions made upon it, and that there muft be fome kind of contiguity between it and the objects of thought. Hence the theories of ideas and impreffions have fo generally prevailed. Becaufe the moft perfed: works of human artifls are made after a model, and of mate- rials that before exifted, the ancient Philofo- phers univerfally believed that the world was made of a pre-exiftent uncreated matter ; and A a 2 many 2s6 ESSAY VI. CHAP, manv of them, that there were eternal and im- ^ • created models of every fpecies of things which' God made. The miftakes in common life, which are owing to this prejudice, are innumerable, and cannot efcape the flighted obfervation. Men judge of other men by themfelves, or by the fmall circle of their acquaintance. The felfifh man thinks all pretences to benevolence and public fpirit to be mere hypocrify or felf-deceit. The generous and open hearted believe fair pretences too eafily, and are apt to think men better than they really are. The abandoned and profligate can hardly be perfuaded that there is any fuch thing as real virtue in the world. The ruflic forms his notions of the manners and charafters of men from thofe of his coun- try village, and is eafily duped when he comes into a great city. It is commonly taken for granted, that this narrow way of judging of men is to be cured only by an extenfive intercourfe v/ith men of different ranks, profeffions, and nations; and that the rh,an whofe acquaintance has been con- fined within a narrow circle, muft have many prejudices and narrow notions, which a more extenfive intercoufe would have cured. 3, Men are often led into error by the love of fimplicity, which difpofes us to reduce things to few principles, and to conceive a greater fimplicity in nature than there really is. To love fimphcity, and to be pleafed with it wherever we find it, is no imperfedion, but the contrary. It is the refult of good tafle. We cannot but be pleafed to obferve, that all the changes of motion produced by the colli- fioii Of PREJUDICES, the Caufes /ERROR. 357 fion of bodies, hard, foft, or elaftic, are re-C H A P. ducible to three fimple laws of motion, which ^'^^^• the induflry of Philofophers has difcovered. '' — "'""^ When we confider what a prodigious variety of efFe£ts depend upon the law of gravitation ; how many phsenomena in the earth, fea, and air, which, in all preceding ages, had tortur- ed the wits of Philofophers, and occafioned a thoufand vain theories, are ihown to be the neceflary confequences of this one law ; how the whole fyftem of fun, moon, planets, pri- mary and fecondary, and comets, are kept in order by it, and their feeming irregularities accounted for and reduced to accurate mea- fure ; the fimplicity of the caufe, and the beauty and variety of the efFe6ls, mud give pleafure to every contemplative mind. By this noble difcovery, we are taken, as it were, be- hind the fcene in this great drama of Nature, and made to behold fome part of the art of the divine Author of this fyitem, which, before this difcovery, eye had not feen, nor ear heard, nor had it entered into the heart of man to conceive. There is, without doubt, in every work of Nature all the beautiful fimplicity that is con- fident with the end for which it was made. But if we hope to difcover how Nature brings about its ends, merely from this principle, that it operates in the fimplell and befl: way, we deceive ourfelves, and forget that the wifdoin of Nature is more above the wifdom of man, than man's wifdom is above that of a child. If a child fhould fit down to contrive how a city is to be fortified, or an army arranged in the day of battle, he would, no doubt, con- jedure what, to his underftanding^, appeared the 358 ESSAY VI. C H A P. the fimplefl: and befl way. But co'uld he ever ^2_^^ hit upon the true way ? No furely. When he learns from fa6i: how thefe efFefts are produced, he will then fee how foolifli his childifh con- jectures were. We may learn fomething of the way in which Nature operates, from fad: and obfervation ; but if we conclude that it operates in fuch a manner, only becaufe to our underflanding, that appears to be the befl and fimpleft manner, we fliall always go wrong. It was believed, for many ages, that all the variety of concrete bodies we find on this globe is reducible to four elements, of which they are compounded, and into which they may be refclved. It was the fimplicity of this theory, and not any evidence from fad, that made it to be fo generally received ; for the more it is examined, we find the lefs ground to believe it. The Pythagoreans and Platonifts were car- ried farther by the fame love of fimplicity. Pythagoras, by his fkill in mathematics, dif- covered, that there can be no more than five regular folid figures, terminated by plain fur- faces, which are all fimilar and equal ; to wit, the tetraliedron, the cube, the odahedron, the dodecahedron, and the eicofihedron. As Na- ture works in the moll fimple and regular way, he thought that all the elementary bodies mufh have one or other of thofe regular figures ; r.nd that the difcovery of the properties and reladons of the regular foHds would be a key to open the myfteries of Nature. This notion of the Pythagoreans and Plato- nifts has undoubtedly great beauty and fim- plicity. Accordingly it prevailed, at leaft, to the 0/PREJUDICES, ihe Caufes of ERROR. 359 the tithe of Euclid. He was a Platonic Phi-C H A P. lofopher, and is faid to have wrote all the ^'^^'^ books of his Elements, in order to difcovcr the ~ '"'"' properties and relations of the five regular fo- lids. This ancient tradition of the intention of Euclid in writing his Elements, is coun- tenanced by the work itfelf. For the laft books of the Elements treat of the regular follds, and all the preceding are fubfervient to the laft. So that this moft ancient mathematical work, which, for its admirable compofition, has ferved as a model to all fucceeding writers in mathematics, feems, like the firft two books of Newton's Principia, to have been intended by its author to exhibit the mathematical prin- ciples of natural philofophy. It was long believed, that all the qualities of bodies, and all their medical virtues, v/ere reducible to four ; moifture and drynefs, heat and cold : And that there are only four tem- peraments of the human body ; the fanguine, the melancholy, the bilious, and the phleg- matic. The chemical fyftem, of reducing all bodies to fait, fulphur, and mercury, was of the fame kind. For how many ages did men believe, that the divifion of all the objefts of thought into ten categories, and of all that can be affirmed or denied of any thing, into fiv^ univerfals or predicables, were perfeft enumerations ? The evidence from reafon that could be produced for thofe fyftems was next to no- thing, and bore no proportion to the ground they gained in the belief of men ; but they were fimple and regular, and reduced things to a few principles j and this fupplied their want of evidence. Of 36o E S S A Y VI. CHAP Of all the fyflems we know, that ©f Des ^'^^- Cartes was mofl remarkable for its fimplici- ^-^'^'^'''^^ ty. Upon one propofition, I think, he builds the whole fabric of human knowledge. And from mere matter, with a certain quantity ot motion given it at firft, he accounts for all the phasnomena of the material world. The phyfical part of this fyftem was mere hypothefis. It had nothing to recommend it but its fmiplicity , yet it had force enough to overturn the fyftem of Aristotle, after that fyftem had prevailed for more than a thoufand years. The principle of gravitation, and other at- tracdng and repeUing forces, after Sir Isaac Newton had given the ftrongeft evidence of their real exiftence in Nature, were rejected by the greateft part of Europe for half a cen- tury, becaufe they could not be accounted for by matter and motion. So much were men enamoured with the fnnplicity of the Cartefian fyftem. Nay, I apprehend, it was this love of fnn- plicity, more than real evidence, that led Newton hmifelf to fay, in the preface to his Principia, fpeaknig of the phsenomena of the material Vv'orld, " Nam multa me movent ut " nonnihil fufpicer, ea omnia ex viribus qui- " buidam pendere polTe, quibus corporum " particulas, per caufas nondum cognitas, vel " in fe mutuo impelluntur, et fecundum figu- '* ras regulares cohaerent, vel ab invicem fu- " gantur et recedunt." For certainly we have no evidence from faft, that all the phssnome- na of the material world are produced by at- tracting or repelling forces. With 0/PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. 361 With his ufual modefly, he propofes it only C HAP. as a flight fufpicion ; and the ground of this ^_J/i_j fufpicion could only be, that he law that many of the phaenomena of Nature depended upon caufes of this kind : and therefore was difpo- ■ fed, from the fnnplicity of Nature, to think that all do. When a real caufe is difcovered, the fame love of hmplicity leads men to attribute cfTeds to it which are beyond its province. A medicine that is found to be of great ufe in one diflemper, commonly has its virtues multiplied, till it becomes a panacea. Thofe who have lived long, can recollect many in- ftances of this. In other branches of know- ledge, the fame thing often happens. When the attention of men is turned to any particu- lar caufe, by difcovering it to have remarkable effecls, they are in great danger of extending its influence, upon flight evidence, to things with which it has no connexion. Such pre- judices arife from the natural defire of hm- plifying natural caufes, and of accounting for many phsenomena from the fame principle. 4. One of the mofl: copious fources of error in philofophy is the mifapplication of our no- bleft intellectual power to purpofes for which it is incompetent. Of all the intellectual powers of man, that of invention bears the highefl price. It re- fembles mofl; the power of creation, and is ho- noured with that name. We admire the man who fliews a fuperiorlty in the talent of finding the means of accom- plifliing an end ; who can, by a happy com- bination, produce an effect, or make a difco- very beyond the reach of other men ; who can draw 362 ESSAY VI. CHAP, draw important conclufions from circumftan- VIII, ^,gg ^Y\2it commonly pafs unobferved ; who ^'^ judges with the greateft fagacity of the defigns of other men, and the confequences of his own actions. To this fuperiority of underftanding we give the name of genius, and look up with admiration to every thing that bears the marks of it. Yet this power, fo highly valuable in itfelf, and fo ufeful in the conduft of life, may be mifapplied ; and men of genius, in all ages, have been prone to apply it to purpofes for which it is altogether incompetent. The works of men and the works of Nature are not of the fame order. The force of geni- us may enable a man perfectly to comprehend the former, and to fee them to the bottom. What is contrived and executed by one man may be perfectly underftood by another man. With great probabiUty, he may from a part conjeclure the whole, or from the effedls may conjeclure the caufes ; becaufe they are effe6ts of a wifdom not fuperior to his own. But the works of Nature are contrived and executed by a wifdom and power infinitely fu- perior to that of man ; and when men attempt, by the force of genius, to difcover the caufes of the phssnomena of Nature, they have only the chance of going wrong more ingenioufly. Their conjeftures may appear very probable to beings no wifer than themfelves ; but they have no chance to hit the truth. They are Hke the conjedures of a child how a fhip of war is built, and how it is managed at fea. Let the man of genius try to make an ani- mal, even the meaneft ; to make a plant, or even a fmgle leaf of a plant, or feather of a birdj he will find that all his wif- don> 0/ PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. Z^^^ dom and fagacity can bear no comparifon with^ ^-^ P- the wifdoin of Nature, nor his power with the power of Nature. The experience of all ages ihows how prone ingenious men have been to invent hypothefes to explain the phosnomena of Nature ; how fond, by a kind of anticipation, to difcover her fecrets. Inftead of a flow and gradual af- cent in the fcale of natural caufes, by a juA: and copious induction, they would lliorten the work, and, by a flight of genius, get to the top at once. This gratifies the pride of hu- man underflianding ; but it is an attempt be- yond our force, like that of Phaeton to guide the chariot of the fun. When a man has laid out all his ingenuity in fabricating a fyflem, he views it v/ith' the eye of a parent ; he fl:rains phsenomena to make them tally with it, and make it look like the work of Nature. The flow and patient method of induftion, the only way to attain any knowledge of Na- ture's work, was little underftood until it was delineated by Lord Bacon, and has been lit- tle followed fince. It hum^bl'^s the pride of man, and puts him conftantly in mind that his • moft ingenious conjectures with regard to the works of God are pitiful and childifli. There is no room here for the favourite ta- lent of invention. In the humble method of information, from the great volume of Nature we mufl: receive all our knowledge of Nature. Whatever is beyond a jufl: intc^rpretation of that volume is the work of man ; and the work of God ought not to be contaminated by any mixture with it. To 364 ESSAY VI. CHAP. To a man of eenius, felf-denial is a difficult ^^_^/^ leffon in philofophy as well as in religion. To bring his fine imaginations and mofl ingeni- ous conjeftures to the fiery trial of experiment and induftion, by which the greater part, if not the whole, will' be found to be drofs, is a humiliating talk. This is to condemn him to dig in a mine, when he would fly with the wings of an eagle. In all the fine arts, whofe end is to pleafe, genius is defervedly fupreme. In the condu£t of human affairs it often does wonders ; but in all enquiries into the conllitution of Nature it muft aft a fubordinate part, ill-fuited to the fuperiority it boafls. It may combine, but it mufl not fabricate. It may colled evidence, but mull not fupply the want of it by conjec- ture. It may difplay its powers by putting Nature to the queflion in well-contrived expe- riments, but it muft add nothing to her an-- fwers. 5. In avoiding one extreme, men are very apt to rulh into the oppofite. Thus, in rude ages, men, unaccuftomed to fearch for natural caufes, afcribe every un- common appearance to the immediate interpo- fition of invifible beings ; but when philofo-. phy has difcovered natural caufes of many events, which, in the days of ignorance, were afcribed to the immediate operation of gods or daemons, they are apt to think, that all the pheenoraena of Nature may be accounted for in the fame way, and that there is no need of an invifible Maker and Governor of the world. Rude men are at firfl difpofed to afcribe in- telligence and adive power to every thing they fee move or undergo any change. " Savages, " fays O/PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. Z^5 " fays the Abbe Raynal, wherever they fee^^ ^ ^* " motion which they cannot account for, there " they fuppofe a foul." When they come to be convinced of the folly of this extreme, they are apt to run into the oppofite, and to think, that every thing moves . only as it is moved, and a6:s as it is a£led upon. Thus, from the extreme of fuperfhition, the tranfition is eafy to that of atheifm ; and from the extreme of afcribing activity to every part of Nature, to that of excluding it altogether, and making even the determinations of intelli- gent beings, the links of one fatal chain, or the wheels of one great machine. The abufe of occult qualities in the Peripa- tetic philofophy led Des Cartes and his fol- lowers to rejeft all occult qualities ; to pretend to explain all the phaenomena of Nature by mere matter and motion, and even to fix dif- grace upon the name of occult quality. 6. Mens judgments are often perverted by their affeftions and paffions. This is fo com- monly obferved, and fo univerfally acknow- ledged, that it needs no proof nor illuftration. The fecond clafs of idols in Lord Bacon's divifion are the idola fpecus. Thefe are prejudices which have their ori- gin, not from the conftitution of human na- ture, but from fomething peculiar to the indi- vidual. As in a cave objedls vary in their appear- ance according to the form of the cave and the manner in which it receives the light. Lord Bacon conceives the mind of every man to refemble a cave, which has its particular form, and its particular manner of being enlightened ; and, from thefe circumftances, often gives falfe 366 ESSAY VI. CHAP, fiiife colours and a delufive appearance to ob- ^ • jects ieen m it. y-.^ p^^ ^^.^ reafon, he gives the name of idola fpccus to thofe prejudices which arife from the particular way in which a man has been train- ed, from his being addicled to fome particular profeffion, or from fomething particular in the turn of his mind. A man whofe thoughts have been confined to a certain track by his profeffion or manner of life, is very apt to judge wrong when he ventures out of that track. He is apt to draw every thing within the fphere of his profeffion, and to judge by its maxims of things that have no relation to it. The mere Mathematician is apt to apply meafure and calculation to things which do not admit of it. Direft and inverfe ratios have been applied by an ingenious author to meafure human affeftions, and the moral worth of adions. An eminent Mathematician attem.pted to afcertain by calculation, the ratio in which the evidence of fafts muft decreafe in the courfe of time, and fixed the period when the evi- dence of the fafts on which Chriftianity is founded ffiall become evanefcent, and when in confequence no faith fliall be found on the earth. I have feen a phiiofophical difiertation publiffied by a very good Mathematician, wherein, in oppofition to the ancient divifion of things into ten categories, he maintains that there are no more, and can be no more than two categories, to wit, data and quizfita. The ancient Chemifls were wont to explain all the myfieries of Nature, and even of religi- on, by fait, fulphur, and mercury. Mr. Of PREJUDICES, the Caufes of ERROR. 367 Mr. Locke, I think, mentions an eminent C H A P. Mufician, who believed that God created the ^^^^• world in fix days, and reded the feventh, be- ^^'^'^""^ caufe there are but feven notes in mufic. I knew one of that prof effion, who thought that there could be only three parts in harmony, to wit, bafs, tenor, and treble ; becaufe there are but three perfons in the Trinity. The learned and ingenious Dr. Henry More having very elaborately and methodically compiled his Enchiridium Metaphyficum, and Enchiridium Ethicum, found all the divifions and fubdivifions of both to be allegorically taught in the firft chapter of Genefis. Thus even very ingenious men are apt to make a ri- diculous figure, by drawing into the track, in which their thoughts have long run, things altogether foreign to it. Different perfons, either from temper or from education, have different tendencies of underftanding, which, by their excefs, are un- favourable to found judgment. Some have an undue admiration of antiquity, and contempt of whatever is modern ; others go as far into the contrary extreme. It may be judged, that the former are perfons who ralue themfelves upon their acquaintance with ancient authors, and the latter fuch as have little knowledge of this kind. Some are afraid to venture a ftep out of the beaten track, and think it fafeft to go with the multitude ; others are fond of fingularities, and of every thing that has the air of paradox. Some are defultory and changeable in their opinions ; others unduly tenacious. Mofh men have a prediledlion for the tenets of their feft or party, and ftill more for their own inven- tions. The 368 ESSAY VI. CHAP. "Xhe idola fori are the fallacies arifing from ^" the imperfedlons and the abufe of language, which is an inflrument of thought as well as of the communication of our thoughts. Whether it be the efFe£t of conftitution or of habit, I will not take upon me to determine; but, from one or both of thefe caufes, it hap- pens, that no man can purfue a train of thought or reafoning without the ufe of language. Words are the figns of our thoughts ; and the fign is fo affociated with the thing fignified, that the lad can hardly prefent itfelf to the ima- gination, without drawing the other along with it. A man who would compofe in any language, muft think in that language. If he thinks in one language what he would exprefs in ano- ther, he thereby doubles his labour, and after all, his expreffions will have more the air of a tranflation than of an original. This (hows that our thoughts take their co- lour in fome degree from the language we ufe ; and that, although language ought always to be fubfervient to thought, yet thought mult be at fome times, and in fome degree, fubfervient to language. As a fervant that is extremely ufeful and ne- ceffary to his mailer, by degrees acquires an authority over him, fo that the mailer mufl often yield to the fervant ; fuch is the cafe with regard to language. Its intention is to be a fervant to the underftanding ; but it is fo ufeful and fo neceffary, that we cannot avoid being fometimes led by it when it ought to follow. We cannot Ihake of this impediment, we mull drag it along with us ; and therefore mufl dirett our courfe, and regulate our pace, as it permits. Language ■Of PREJUDICES, ihc Caufes o/ERROR. 369 Language mud have many imperfedions CHAP, when applied to philofophy, becaufe it was not ij/|^ made for that ufe. In the early periods of fociety, rude and ignorant men ufe certain forms of fpeech, to exprefs their wants, their defires, and their tranfadions with one another. Their language can reach no farther than their fpeculations and notions ; and if their notions be vague and ill defined, the words by which they exprefs them mufl be fo likewife. It was a grand and noble projed of Bifhop "WiLKiNs, to invent a philofophical language, which fhould be free from the imperfedions of vulgar languages. Whether this attempt will ever fucceed, fo far as to be generally ufeful, I fhall not pretend to determine. The great pains taken by that excellent man in this defiga have hitherto produced no effed. Very few have ever entered minutely into his views j far lefs have his philofophical language and his real charader been brought into ufe. He founds his philofophical language and real" charader upon a fyflematical divifion and fubdivifion of all the things which may be ex- prefled by language, and, inftead of the an- cient divifion into ten categories, has made forty categories, or funvna genera. But whe- ther this divifion, though made by a very com- prehenfive mind, will always fuit the various fyftems that may be introduced, and all the real improvements that may be made in human knowledge, may be doubted. The difficulty is ftill greater in the fubdivifions ; fo that it is to be feared, that this noble attempt of a great genius will prove abortive, until Philofophers Vol. II. B b have 370 ESSAY VL C H A P. have the fame opinions and the fame fyftemsin • the various branches of human knowledge. ^"^^ There is more reafon to hope, that the lan- guage ufed by Philofophers may be gradually improved in copioufnefs and in diftin6:nefs ; and that improvents in knowledge and in lan- guage may go hand in hand, and facilitate each other. But 1 fear the imperfections of lan- guage can never be perfedly remedied while our knowledge is imperfed. However this may be, it is evident that the imperfections of language, and much more the ^bufe of it, are the occafion of many errors ; and that in many difputes which have engaged learned men, the difference has been partly, and in fome wholly, about the meaning of words. Mr. Locke found it neceflary to employ a fourth part of his Eflay on Human Underfland- ing about words ; their various kinds ; their imperfedtion and abufe, and the remedies of both ; and has made many obfervations up- on thefe fubjeds, well worthy of attentive perufal. The fourth ciafs of prejudices are the idola fbeairi, by which are meant prejudices arifmg from the fyftem.s or feds, in which we have been trained, or which we have adopted. A falfe fyfhem once fixed in the mind, be- comes, as it were, the medium through which we fee objects : They receive a tindure from it, and appear of another colour than when icen by a pure light. Upon the fame fubjed, a Platonlft, a Peri- patetic, and an Epicurean, will think diffe- rently, not only in matters conneded with his pecuhar Of PREJUDICES, ihe Caufcs of ERROR. 37 1 peculiar tenets, but even mthine;s remote from CHAP, them. VIII. A judicious hiftory of the different fefts of Philofophers, and the different methods of philofophifmg, which have obtained among mankind, would be of no fmall ufe to direft men in the fearch of truth. In fuch a hiflory, what would be of the greatefl: moment is not fo much a minute detail of the dogmata of each fe£t, as a juft delineation of the fpirit of the feft, and of that point of view in which things appeared to its founder. This was perfectly underflood, and, as far as concerns the the- ories of morals, is executed with great judg- ment and candour by Dr. Smith in his Theo- ry of moral fentiments. As there are certain temperaments of the body that difpofe a man more to one clafs of difeafes than to another; and, on the other hand, difeafes of that kind, when they happen by accident, are apt to induce the tempera- ment that is fuited to them ; there is fome- thing analogous to this in the difeafes of the underftanding. A tertain complexion of underRanding mav difpofe a man to one fyftem of opinions more than to another; and, on the other hand, a fyftem of opinions, fixed in the mind by edu- cation or otherwife, gives that complexion to the underftanding which is fuited to them. It were to be wifhed, that the different fyf- tems that have prevailed could be claffcd ac- cording to their fpirit, as well as named from their founders. Lord Bacon has diflin2:uifhed falfe philofophy into the fophillical, the empi- rical, and the fuperftitious, and has made ju- B b 2 dicious 37^ E S S A Y Vr. CHAP, dicioiis obfervations upon each of thefe kinds, ^^^^" But I apprehend this fubjed deferves to be ^*'''"^*'^^ treated more fully by fuch a hand, if fucha hand can be found. ESSAY 37 bJ :> ESSAY VIL OF REASONING. CHAP. I. Of Keafon'ing in general^ and of Demonji ration, THE power of reafoning is very nearly- allied to that of judging ; and it is of little confequence in the common affairs of life to diftinguifh them nicely. On this account, the fame name is often given to both. We include both under the name of reafon. The affent we give to a propolition is called judg- ment, whether the propofition be felf-evident, or derive its evidence by reafoning from other propofitions. Yet there is a diftinftion between reafoning and judging. Reafoning is the procefs by which we pafs from one judgment to another which is the confequence of it. Accordingly our judgments are diftinguiihed into intuitive, which are not grounded upon any preceding judgment, and difcurfive, which are deduced fromfome preceding judgment by reafoning. In all reafoning, therefore, there mult be a propofition inferred, and one or more from which it is inferred. And this power of in- ferring, or drawing a conclufion, is only another name 374 ESSAY VII. CHAP, name for reafoning ; the propofition inferred being called the conclufion^ and the propofition, or propofitions from which it is inferred, the prcmifes. Reafoning may confift of many fteps; the firfh conclufion being a premife to a fecond, that to a third, and fo on, till we come to the laft conclufion. A procefs confiding of many fteps of this kind, is fo eafily diflinguiflied from judgment, that it is never called by that name. But when there is only a fmgle (tep to the conclufion, the diftindion is lefs obvious, and the procefs is fometimes called judgment, fometimes reafoning. It is not ftrange, that, in common difcourfe, judgment and reafoning Ihould not be very nicely diftinguiflied, fince they are in fome cafes confounded even by Logicians. We are taught in logic, that judgment is exprelfed by one propofition, but that reafoning requires two or three. But fo various are the modes of fpeech, that what in one mode is exprelfed by two or three propofitions, may in another mode be expreffed by one. Thus I may fay, God is good; therefore good men JJjall be happy. This is reafoning, of that kind v^^hich Logici- ans call an enthymeme, confiding of an ante- cedent propofition, and a conclufion drawn from it. But this reafoning may be exprelTed by one propofition, thus : Bccaiifc God is good, good men jlmll he happy. This is what they call a caufal propofition, and therefore expreifes judgment.; yet the enthymeme which is rea- foning, exprefles no more. Reafoning, as well as judgment, muft be true or falfe; both are grounded upon evi- dence Of Reafoning, and of Demonjiratlon. 2>75 dence which may be probable or demonftratlve, ^ ^ J^ P- and both are accompanied with affent or be- . ' . lief. ... ^"""^ The power of reafoning is juftly accounted one of the prerogatives of human nature; becaufe by it many important truths have been, and may be difcovered, which without it would be beyond our reach; yet iffeems to be only a kind of crutch to a limited underflandiiie;. We can conceive an underftanding, fuperior to human, to which that truth appears intui- tively, which we can only difcover by reafon- ing. For this caufe, though we mud afcribe judgment to the Almighty, we do not afcribe reafoning to him, becaufe it implies fome de- fe6t or limitation of underftanding. Even among men, to ufe reafoning in things that are felf-evident, is trifling ; like a man going upon crutches when ' he can walk upon his legs. What reafoning is, can be underftood only by a man who has reafoned, and who is capa- ble of refleding upon this operation of his own mind. We can define it only by fynonimous words or phrafes, fuch as inferring, drawing a conclufion, and the like. The very notion of reafoning, therefore, can enter into the mind by no other channel than that of reliev- ing upon the operation of reafoning in our own minds ; and the notions of premifes and con- clufion, of a fyllogifm, and all its conftitucnt parts, of an enthymeme, forites, demonftra- tion, paralogifm, and many others, have the fame origin. It is Nature undoubtedly that gives us the capacity of reafoning. When this is wanting, no art nor education can fupply it. But this capacity n^^e ESSAY VII. CHAP, capacity may be dormant through Hfe, like the '• feed of a plant, which, for w^ant of heat and ^' ' moifture, never vegetates. This is probably . the cafe of fome favages. Although the capacity be purely the gift of Nature, and probably given in very different degrees to different perfons ; yet the power of reafoning fecms to be got by habit, as much as the power of walking or running. Its firfl ex- ertions we are not able to recoiled, in ourfelves, or clearly to difcern in others. They are ve- ry feeble, and need to be led by example, and fupported by authority. By degrees it acquires ftrength, chiefly by means of imitati- on and exerclfe. The exerclfe of reafoning on various fub- jecls not only ftrengthens the faculty, but fur- niffies the mind with a ftore of materials. Eve- ry train of reafoning, which is familiar, be- comes a beaten track in the way to many others. It removes many obftacles which lay in our way, and fmooths many roads which we may have occafion to travel in future dif- quifitions.^ When men of equal natural parts apply their reafoning power to any fubjed, the man who has reaioned much on the fame, or on fi- milar fubjeds, has a like advantage over him who has not, as the mechanic who has flore of tools for his work, has of him who has his tools to make, or even to invent. In a train of reafoning, the evidence of every ftep, where nothing is left to be fup- plied by the reader or hearer, muff be imme- diately difcernible to every man of ripe under- ftanding who hasadiilindcomprehenfion of the premifts Of Reafofiing, mid of Demonfiratlon. 377 premifes and conclufion, and who compares them C H A together. To be able to comprehend, in one ^ __ view, a combination of (teps of this kind, is more difficult, and feems to require a fuperior natural abihty. In all, it may be much im- proved by habit. But the higheft talent in reafoning is the in- vention of proofs ; by which, truths remote from the premifes are brought to light. In all works of underftanding, invention has the highefl praife ; it requires an extenfive view of what relates to the fubjedl, and a quicknefs in difcerning thofe affinities and relations which may be fublervient to the purpofe. In all invention there mufl: be fome end in view : And fagacity in finding out the road that leads to this end, is, I think, what we call invention. In this chiefly, as I apprehend, and in clear and diftinct conceptions, confifls that fuperiority of underftanding which we call genius. In every chain of reafoning, the evidence of the laft conclufion can be no greater than that of the weakeft link of the chain, whatever may be the ftrength of the reft. The mod remarkable diftinclion of reafonings is, that fome are probable, others demonftra- tive. In every flep of demonftrative reafoning, the inference is neceifary, and we perceive it to be impoffible that the conclufion fnould not follow from the premifes. In probable reafon- ing, the connexion between the premifes, and the conclufion is not neceflary, nor do we per- ceive it to be impoffible that the firfl fliould be true while the laft is falfe. Hence 378 ESSAY VII. CHAP, Hence demonftrative reafoning has no de- ^- greeSj nor can one demonftration be flronger ^"^^ ~ than another, though, in relation to our fa- cuhies, one may be more eafily comprehended than another. Every demonftration gives equal ftrength to the conclufion, and leaves no poffibility of its being falfe. It was, 1 think, the opinion of all the anci- ents, that demonftrative reafoning can be ap- plied only to truths that are neceffary, and not to' thofe that are contingent. In this, I be- lieve, they judged right. Of all created things, the exiftence, the attributes, and con- fequently the relations refulting from thofe at- tributes, are contingent. Ihey depend upon the will and power of him who made them. Thefe are matters of fad:, and admit not of demonftration. The field of demonftrative reafoning, there- fore, is the various relations of things abftraft, that is, of things which we conceive, without regard to their exiftence. Of thefe, as they are conceived by the mind, and are nothing but what they are conceived to be, we may have a clear and adequate comprehenfion. Their relations and" attributes are neceflary and immutable. They are the things to which the Pythagoreans and Platonifts gave the name of ideas. I would beg leave to borrow this meaning of the word idea from thofe ancient Philofophers, and then I muft agree with them, that ideas are the only objects about which we can reafon demonftratively. There are many even of our ideas about which we can carry on no confiderable train pf reafoning. Though they be ever fo well defined and perfe(5tly comprehended, yet their agreements Of Reafoning, and of Demonfiration. 379 agreements and difagreements are few, and CHAP, thefe are difcerned at once. We may go a ftep or two in forming a conclufion with re- gard to fuch objects, but can go no farther. There are others, about wliich we may, by a long train of demonftrative reafoning, arrive at conclufions very remote and unexpeded. The reafonings I have met with that can be called ftritlly demonftrative, may, 1 think, be reduced to two clalfes. They are either meta- phyfical, or they are mathematical. In metaphyfical reafoning, the procefs is always fliort. The conclufion is but a ftep or two, feldom more, from the firft principle or axiom on which it is grounded, and the dif- ferent conclufions depend not one upon ano- ther. It is otherwife in mathematical reafoning. Here the field has no limits. One propofition leads on to another, that to a third, and fo on without end. If it ftiould be afked, why demonftrative reafoning has fo wide a field in mathematics, while, in other abftrad: fubjefts, it is confined within very narrov/ limits ? I conceive this is chiefly owing to the nature of quantity, the object of mathematics. Every quantity, as it has magnitude, and is divifible into parts without end, fo, in ref- pecl of its magnitude, it has a certain ratio to every quantity of the kind. The ratios of quantities are innumerable, fuch as, a half, a third, a tenth, double, triple. All the pow- ers of number are infufficient to exprefs the variety of ratios. For there are innumerable ratios which cannot be perfectly expreflfed by numbers, fuch as, the ratio of the lide to the diagonal 380 ESSAY VII. CHAP, diagonal of a fquare, of the circumference of ^- a circle to the diameter. Of this infinite va- ^''^^'^^ riety of ratios, every one may be clearly con- ceived, and diftinclly expreffed, fo as to be in no danger of being miflaken for any other. Extended quantities, fuch as hues, furfaces, folids, befides the variety of relations they have in refpeft of magnitude, have no lefs variety in refpect of figure; and every mathe- matical figure may be accurately defined, fo as to diftinguilh it from all others. There is nothing of this kind in other ob- jects of abftraO: reafoning. Some of them have various degrees; but thefe are not capa- ble of meafure, nor can be faid to have an affignable ratio to others of the kind. They are either fimple, or compounded of a few in- divifible parts; and therefore, if we may be allowed the expreilion, can touch only in few points. But mathematical quantities being made up of parts without number, can touch in innumerable points, and be compared in innumerable different ways. There have been attempts made to meafure the merit of aflions by the ratios of the affec- tions and principles of attion from which they proceed. This may perhaps, in the way of analogy, ferve to illufhrate what was before known ; but I do not think any truth can be difcovered in this way. There are, no doubt, desfrees of benevolence, felf-lov&, and other afFedions ; but, when we apply ratios to them, I apprehend we have no diftinO: meaning. Some demonftrations are called direft, others indired. The firft kind leads diretlly to the conclufion to be proved. Of the indi- jed fome are called demonftrations ad ahfur- dwih Of Reafonlng, and of Dcmonjiration, 381 dum. In thefe the propofition contradictory C H A P. to that which is to be proved is demonftrated ^• to be falfe, or to lead to an abfurdity; whence ''*''^"'*' it follows, that its contradictory, that is, the propofition to be proved, is true. This infe- rence is grounded upon an axiom in logic. That of two contradictory proportions, if one be falfe, the other muft be true. Another kind of indirc6t demonftratlon proceeds by enumerating all the fuppofitions that can poflibly be made concerning the pro- portion to be proved, and then demonftrating, that all of them, excepting that which is to be proved, are falfe; whence it follows, that the excepted fuppolition is true. Thus one line is proved to be equal to another, by prov- ing firfl: that it cannot be greater, and then that it cannot be lefs: For it muft be either greater, or lefs, or equal; and two of thefe fuppofitions being demonftrated to be falfe, the third muft be true. All thefe kinds of demonftration are ufed in mathematics, and perhaps fome others. They have all equal ftrength. The direft de- monftration is preferred where it can be had, for this reafon only, as I apprehend, becaufe it is the fliorteft road to the conclufion. The nature of the evidence and its ftrength is the fame in all: Only we are conducted to it by different roads. G H A P. 382 ESSAY VIL CHAP. II. Whether Morality he capable of Demo7iJlration. WHAT has been faid of de'monftrative reafoning may help us to judge of an opinion of Mr. Locke, advanced in feve- ral plaees of his EiTay ; to wit, " That morality " is capable of demonilration as well as ma- " thematics." In book 3. chap. 11. having obferved, that mixed modes, efpecially thofe belonging to morality, being fuch combinations of ideas as the mind puts together of its own choice, the fignification of their names may be perfe£tly and exactly defined, he adds, Se6l. 16. " Upon this ground it is that lam " bold to think, that morality is capable of " demonftration as well as mathematics: Since " the precife real eifence of the things moral " words flaad for may be perfe6lly known, " and fo the congruity or incongruity of the " things themfelves be certainly difcovered, in " which corxfifts perfed knowledge. Nor let " any one objecl. That the names of fubftan- " ces are often to be made ufe of in morality, " as well as thofe of modes, from whi-ch will " arife obfcurity : For, as to fubftances, when *' concerned in moral difcourfes, their divers " natures are not fo. much enquired into as " fuppofed: v. g. When we fay that man is " fubjecL to law, we mean nothing by man but " a corporeal rational creature : What the real " efi'ence or other qualities of that creature are, " in this cafe, is no way confidered." Again, Of Reafoning, and of Bemonjlratloru 383 Again, in book 4. ch. 3. § 18. " The ideaC H A P. " of a Supreme Bein<^, whofe workmanfbip ^^^^,_^^ " we are, and the idea of ourfelves, being " fuch as are clear in us, would, I fuppofe, if " duly confidered and purfued, afford fuch " foundation of our duty and rules of action, " as might place morality among the fciences " capable of demonftration. The relation of " other modes may certainly be perceived, as " well as thofe of number and extenfion; and " I cannot fee why they fhould not be capable *' of demonftration, if due methods were *' thought on to examine or purfue their agree- " ment or difagreement." He afterwards gives as inftances two propo- fitions, as moral propofitipns of which we may be as certain as of any in mathem.atics ; and confiders at large what may have given the ad- vantage to the ideas of quantity, and made them be thought more capable of certainty and demonftration. Again, in the 12th chapter of the fame book, § 7, 8. " This I think I may fay, that. *' if other ideas that are the real as well as no- ^' minal effences of their feveral fpecies, were " purfued in the way familiar to Mathematici- " ans, they would carry our thoughts farther, " and with greater evidence and clearnefs, " than poftlbly we are apt to imagine. This " gave me the confidence to advance that con- * " jefture which I fuggeft, chap. 3. "niz. That " morality is capable of demonftration as well " as mathematics." From thefc paifages it appears, that this opi- nion was not a tranfient thought, but what he had revolved in his mind on different occafions. He offers his reafons for it, illuftrates it by ex- amples. 384 ESSAY VIL CHAP, amples, and confiders at length the caufes that have led men to think mathematics more capa- ^^^''^^ble of demonflration than the principles of morals. Some of his learned correfpondents, parti- cularly his friend Mr. Molyneux, urged and importuned him to compofe a fyftem of morals according to the idea he had advanced in his Eli'ay ; and, in his anfwer to thefe folicitations, he only pleads other occupations, without fug- gefting any change of his opinion, or any great^ difficulty in the execution of what was defired. The reafon he gives for this opinion is inge- nious ; and his regard for virtue, the higheft prerogative of the human fpecies, made him fond of an opinion which feemed to be favoura- ble to virtue, and to have a jull foundation in reafon. We need not, however, be afraid, that the intereft of virtue may fuffer by a free and can- did examination of this queflion, or indeed of any queftion whatever. For the interefts of truth and of virtue can never be found in oppo- fition. Darknefs and error may befriend vice, but can never be favourable to virtue. Thofs Philofophers who think that our de- terminations in morals are not real judgments, that right and wrong in human conduct are * only certain feelings or fenfations in the per- fon who contemplates the action, muft reject Mr. Locke's opinion without examination. For if the principles of morals be not a matter of judgment, but of feeling only, there can be no demonflration of them ; nor can any other reafon be given for them, but that men are fo conftituted by the Author of their being, as to con- Whether Morality be Demonstrable. 385 contemplate with pleafure the a£lions we callC HAP. virtuous, and with difgud thofe we call vi- ^^• cious. It is not therefore to be expected, that the Philofophers of this clafs fliould think this opi- nion of Mr. Locke worthy of examination, fince it is founded upon what they think a falfe hypothefis. But if our determinations in mo- rality be real judgments, and, like all other judgments, be either true or falfe, it is not un- important to underftand upon what kind of evidence thofe judgments reft. The arguments offered by Mr. Locke, to fliow that morality is capable of demonftration, is, " That the precife real effence of the things " moral words ftand for, may be perfectly " known, and fo the congruity or incongruity " of the things themfelves be perfectly difco- " vered, in which confifts perfeQ: knowledge.'* It is true, that the field of demonftration is the various relations of things conceived ab- ftradly, of which we may have perfedl and adequate conceptions. And Mr. Locke, taking all the things which moral words ftand for to be of this kind, concluded that morality is as capable of demonftration as mathematics. I acknowledge, that the names of the vir- tues and vices, of right and obligation, of liberty and property, ftand for things abllratt, which may be accurately defined, or, at leaft, conceived as diftindly and adequately as ma- thematical quantities. And thence indeed it follows, that their mutual relations-may be per- ceived as clearly and certainly as mathematical truths. Of this Mr. Locke gives two pertinent ex- amples : The firft, " where there is no pro- VoL. II. C c " perty. 386 ESSAY VIL CHAP." perty, there is no injuftice, is, fays he, a . ^^- " propofition as certain as any demonftration *' in Euclid." When injuftice is defined to be a violation of property, it is as neceflary a truth, that there can be no injuftice where there is no pro- perty, as that you cannot take from a man that which he has not. The fecond examf>le is, " That no govern- " ment allows abfolute liberty.'* This is a truth no lefs certain and neceffary. Such abftrad truths I would call metaphyfical rather than moral. We give the name of ma- thematical, to truths that exprefs the relations of quantities confidered abftradly ; all other abftra£t truths may be called metaphyfical. But if thofe mentioned by Mr. Locke are to be called moral truths, I agree with him that there are many fuch that are neceifarily true, and that have all the evidence that mathematical truths can have. It ought however to be remembered, that, as was before obferved, the relations of things abftra6t, perceivable by us, excepting thofe of mathematical quantities, are few, and for the moft part immediately difcerned, fo as not to require that train of reafoning which we call demonftration. Their evidence refembles more that of mathematical axioms than mathematical propofitions. This appears in the two propofitions given as examples by Mr. Locke. The firft follows immediately from the definition of injuftice ; the fecond from the definition of govern- ment. Their evidence may more properly be called intuitive than demonftrative : And this I apprehend to be the cafe, or nearly the cafe of Whether Moralliy he Demonstrable. 387 of all abftra£l truths that are not mathematical, ^ ^ AP. TT for the reafon given in the laft chapter. u-v-^ The propofitions which I think are properly called moral, are thofe that affirm fome moral obligation to be, or not to be incumbent on one or more individual perfons. To fuch pro- portions Mr. Locke's reafoning does not ap- ply, becaufe the fubjedls of the proportion are not things whofe real eifence may be perfectly known. They are the creatures of God ; their obligation refults from the conftitution which God hath given them, and the circumflances in which he hath placed them. That an in- dividual hath fuch a conftitution, and is placed in fuch circumflances, is not an abftract and neceffary, but a contingent truth. It is a mat- ter of fad:, and therefore not capable of demon- ftrative evidence, which belongs only to ne- ceffary truths. The evidence which every man hath of his own exiflence, though it be irrefiflible, is not demonftrative. And the fame thing may be faid of the evidence which every man hath, that he is a moral agent, and under certain moral obligations. In like manner, the evi- dence we have of the exiflence of other men is not demonftrative ; nor is the evidence we have of their being endowed with thofe faculties which make them moral and accountable agents. If man had not the faculty given him by God of perceiving certain things in conduft to be right, and others to be wrong, and of per- ceiving his obligation to do what is right, and not to do what is wrong, he would not be a moral and accountable being. C c 2 If ciSg ESSAY VII. J) If man be endowed with fuch a faculty^ there mud befome things, which, by this fa- cuUy, are immediately difcerned to be right, and others to be wrong ; and therefore there muft be in morals, as in other fciences, firil principles, which do not derive their evidence from any antecedent principles, but may be faid to be intuitively difcerned. Moral truths, therefore, may be divided into two clafles, to wit, fuch as are felf-evident to every man whofe underftanding and moral faculty are ripe, and fuch as are deduced by reafoning from thofe that are felf evident. If the firll be not difcerned without reafoning, the laft never can be fo by any reafoning. If any man could fay with fincerity, that he is confcious of no obligation to confult his own prefent and future happinefs ; to be faithful to his engagements ; to obey his Maker ; to in- jure no man ; I icnow not what reafoning, ei- ther probable or demonftrative, I could ufe to convince him of any moral duty. As you cannot reafon in mathematics with a man who denies the axioms, as little can you reafon with a man in morals who denies the firit principles of morals. The man who does not, by the light of his own mind, perceive fome things in. conduct to be right, and others to be wrong, is as incapable of reafoning about morals as a blind man is about colours. Such a man, if any fuch man ever was, would be no moral agent, nor capable of any moral obligation. Some firft principles of morals muft be im- mediately difcerned, otherwife we have no foundation on which others can reft, or from which we can reafon. Every Whether Morality be Demonstrable. 389 Every man knows certainly, that, what heC HAP- approves in other men he ought to do in like ^^• circumftances, and that he ought not to do what he condemns in other men. Every man knows that he ought, with candour, to ufe the bell means of knowing his duty. To every man who has a confcience, thefe things are felf-evident. They are immediate dictates of our moral faculty, which is a part of the human conftitution ; and every man condemns himfelf, whether he will or not, when he know- ingly adts contrary to them. The evidence of thefe fundamental principles of morals, and of others that might be named, appears therefore to me to be intuitive rather than demonftrative. The man who a£ts according to the dictates of his confcience, and takes due pains to be rightly informed of his duty, is a perfect maij with regard to morals, and merits no blame, whatever may be the imperfedions or errors of his underftanding. He who knowingly a6ts contrary to them is confcious of guilt, and felf-condemned. Every particular adion that falls evidently within the fundamental rules of morals is evidently his duty ; and it requires no reafoning to convince him that it is fo. Thus I think it appears, that every man of common under Handing knows certainly, and without reafoning, the ultimate ends he ought to purfue, and that reafoning is necefiary only to difcover the mofl proper means of attaining them ; and in this, indeed, a good man may often be in doubt. Thus, a Magiftrate knows that it is his duty to promote the good of the community which hath entrufted him with authority ; and to offer to prove this to him by reafoning would be tp affront 390 ESSAY VIL G HAP. affront him. But whether fuch a fchemc of ^^^ri^ condu6t in his office, or another, may befl ferve that end, he may in many cafes be doubt- ful. I beheve, in fuch cafes, he can very rarely have demonftrative evidence. His con- fcience determines the end he ought to purfue, and he has intuitive evidence that his end is good ; but prudence muft determine the means of attaining that end ; and prudence can very rarely ufe demonftrative rcafoning, but muft reft in what appears moft probable. I apprehend, that in every kind of duty we owe to God or man, the cafe is fimilar ; that is. That the obligation of the moft general rules of duty is felf-evident ; that the applica- tion of thofe rules to particular adions is often no lefs evident ; and that, when it is not evi- dent, but requires reafoning, that reafoning can very rarely be of the demonftrative, but muft be of the probable kind. Sometimes it depends upon the temper and talents and cir- cumftances of the man himfelf ; fometimes up- on the charader and circumftances of others ; fometimes upon both ; and thefe are things which admit not of demonftration. Every man is bound to employ the talents which God hath given him to the beft purpofe ; but if, through accidents which he could not forefee, or ignorance which was invincible, they be lefs ufefuUy employed than they might have been, this will not be imputed to him by his righteous Judge. It is a common and a juft obfervation, that the man of virtue plays a furer game in order to obtain his end than the man of the world. It is not, however, becaufe he reafons better concerning the means of attaining his end; for Whether Morality he Demonstrable. 391 for the children of this world are often wiferC H A P« in their generation than the children of light. ^^ But the reafon of the obfervation is, that invo- luntary errors, unforefeen accidents, and in- vincible ignorance, which aflfefl: deeply all the concerns of the prefent world, have no effect upon virtue or its reward. In the common occurrences of life, a man of integrity, who hath exercifed his moral faculty in judging what is right and what is wrong, fees his duty without reafoning, as he fees the high way. The cafes that require reafoning are few, compared with thofe that require none ; and a man may be very honed and vir- tuous who cannot reafon, and who knows not what demonftration means. The power of reafoning, in thofe that have it, may be abufed in morals, as in other mat- ters. To a man who ufes it with an upright heart, and a fmgle eye to find what is his duty, it will be of great ufe ; but when it is ufed to juftify what a man has a ftrong inclination to do, it will only ferve to deceive himfelf and others. When a man can reafon, his paffi- ons will reafon, and they are the mofl cunning fophifts we meet with. If the rules of virtue were left to be difcover- ed by demonflrative reafoning, or by reafoning of any kind, fad would be the condition of the far greater part of men, who have not the means of cultivating the power of reafoning. As virtue is the bufinefs of all men, the firfl principles of it are written in their hearts, in characters fo legible, that no man can pretend Ignorance of them, or of his obligation to prac- tice them. Some 392 ESSAY VII. Some knowledge of duty and of moral obli- gation is neceffary to all men. Without it they could not be moral and accountable creatures, nor capable of being members of civil fociety. It may therefore be prefumed, that Nature has put this knowledge within the reach of all men. Reafoning and demonftration are weapons which the greateft part of mankind never was able to wield. The knowledge that is neceffary to all, mufh be attainable by all. We fee it is fo in what pertains to the natural hfe of man. Some knowledge of things that are ufeful, and things that are hurtful^ is fo neceifary to all men, that without it the fpecies would foon perifli. But it is not by reafoning that this knowledge is got, far lefs by dcmonftrative reafoning. It is by our fenfes, by memory, by experience, by information ; means of knowledge that are open to all m^en, and put the learned and the unlearned, thofe ^who can reafon and thofe who cannot, upon a level. It may, therefore, be expeded from the analogy of nature, that fuch a knowledge of morals as is neceffary to all men, fhould be had by means more fuited to the abilities of all men than demonftrative reafoning is. This, I apprehend, is in facl: the cafe. "When mens faculties are ripe, the firft princi- ples of morals, into which all moral reafoning may be refolved, are perceived intuitively, and , .in a manner more analogous to the perceptions of fenfe than to the conclufions of demonftra- tive reafoning. Upon the whole, I agree with Mr. Locke, -that propofitions exprefliiig the congruities and incongruities of things abftradl, which mo- ral words ftand for, may have all the evi- dence Whether Morality he Demonstrable. 393 dence of mathematical truths. But this is not C II A P. pecuHar to things which moral words (lund _,i^X-^ for. It is common to abftract proporitions of every kind. For inftance, you cannot take from a man what h.e has not. A man cannot be bound and perfedlly free at the fame time. 1 think no man will call thefe moral truths, but they are necelTary truths, and as evident as any in mathematics. Indeed, they are very nearly allied to the two which Mr. Locke gives as inflances of moral propofitions capable of demonftration. Of fuch abftract propofitions, I think it may more properly be faid, that they have the evidence of mathematical axioms, than that they are capable of demonftration. There are propofitions of another kind, which alone deferve the name of moral propo- rtions. They are fuch as afHrm fomething to be the duty of perfons that really exift. Thefe are not abftracl propofitions ; and therefore Mr. Locke's reafoning does not apply to them. The truth of all fuch propofitions depends upon the conftitution and circumftances of the per- fons to whom they are applied. Of fuch propofitions, there are fome that are felf-evident to every man that has a confci- ence ; and thefe are the principles from which .all moral reafoning muft be drawn. They may be called the axioms of morals. But our rea- foning from thefe axioms to any duty that is not felf-evident, can very rarely be demonftra- tive. Nor is this any detriment to the caufe of virtue, becaufe to ad againft what appears mofl probable in a matter of duty, is as real a tref- pafs againft the firft principles of morality, as to a£t againft demonftration ; and becaufe he who has but one talent in reafoning, and makes the proper 394 ESSAY VII. CHAP, proper ufe of it, fhall be accepted, as well aj " • he to whom God has given ten. CHAP. Ill: Of probable Reafoning, THE field of demonflration, as has been ob- ferved, is neceflary truth ; the field of probable reafoning is contingent truth, not what necefTarily muft be at all times, but what is, or was, or fhall be. No contingent truth is capable of flrid de- monflration ; but neceffary truths may fome- times have probable evidence. Dr. Wallis difcovered many important ma- thematical truths, by that kind of induction which draws a general conclufion from parti- cular premifes. This is not flrift demonflra- tion, but, in fome cafes, gives as full convic- tion as demonflration itfelf ; and a man may be certain, that a truth is demonflrable before it ever has been demonflrated. In other cafes, a mathematical propofition may have fuch pro- bable evidence from indu£lion or analogy, as encourages the Mathematician to invefligate its demonflration. But flill the reafoning pro- per to mathematical and other neceffary truths, is demonflration j and that which is proper to contingf'nt truths, is probable reafoning. Thefe two kinds of reafoning differ in other refpeds. In demonflrative reafoning, one ar- gument is as good as a thoufand. One de- monflration may be more elegant than ano- ther J it may be more eafily comprehended, or it may be more fubfervient to fome purpofc beyond OF PROBABLE REASONING. 395 beyond the prefent. On any of thefe accounts^ HAP. it may dcferve a preference : But then it is fuf- ficient by itfelf ; it needs no aid from another ; it can receive none. To add more demonflra- tions of the fame concluaon, would be a kind^ of tautology in reafoning ; becaufe one de- monflration, clearly comprehended, gives all the evidence we are capable of receiving. The ftrength of probable reafoning, for the mod part, depends not upon any one argu- ment, but upon many, which unite their force, and lead to the fame conclufion. Any one of them by itfelf would be infufficient to convince ; but the whole taken together may have a force that is irreliflible, fo that to de- fire more evidence would be abfurd. Would any man feek new arguments to prove that there were fuch perfons as King Charles the Firfl, or Oliver Cromwell ? Such evidence may be compared to a rope made up of many flender filaments twifted to- gether. The rope has ftrength more than fuf- ficient to bear the ftrefs laid upon it, though no one of the filaments of which it is compofed ■would be fufficient for that purpofe. It is a common obfervation, that it is un- reafonable to require demonftration for things which do not admit of it. It is no lefs unrea- fonable to require reafoning of any kind for things which are known without reafoning. All reafoning muft be grounded upon truths which are known without reafoning. In every branch of real knowledge there muft be firft principles whofe truth is known intuitively, without reafoning, either probable or demon- flrative. They are not grounded on reafon- ing, but all reafoning is grounded on them- It 395 ESSAY VII. C H A P. It has been fliown, that there are firfl prlncl- ^^^' pies of neceffary truths, and firfl principles of ^"^^^^^ contingent truths. Demonftrative reafoning is grounded upon the former, and probable reafoning upon the latter. That we may not be embarralTed by the am- biguity of words, it is proper to obferve, that there is a popular meaning oi probable evidence, which ought not to be confounded with the philofophical meaning, above explained. In common language, probable evidence is confidered as an inferior degree of evidence, and is oppofed to certainty : So that what is certain is more than probable, and what is on- ly probable is not certain. Philofophers confi- der probable evidence, not as a degree, but as afpecies of evidence which is oppofed, not to certainty, but to another fpecies of evidence called demonflration. Demonftrative evidence has no degrees ; but probable evidence, taken in the philofo- phical fenfe, has all degrees, from the very leaft, to the greatefh which we call certainty. That there is fuch a city as Rome, I am as certain as of any proportion In Euclid ; but the evidence is not demonilrative, but of that kind which Philofophers call probable. Yet, in common language, it would found oddly to fay, it is probable there is fuch a city as Rome, becaufe it would imply fome degree of doubt or uncertainty. Taking probable evidence, therefore, in the philofophical fenfe, as it is oppofed to de- monilrative, it may have any degrees of evi- dence, from the lead to the greatefl. I think, in mod cafes, we meafure the de- grees of evidence by the effect they have upop a found OF PROBABLE REASONING. 397 a found underftanding, when comprehended^ ^^ ^ ^• clearly and without prejudice. Every degree of evidence perceived by the mind, produces a proportioned degree of affent or belief. The judgment may be in perfeft fufpenfe be- tween two contradidory opinions, when there is no evidence for either, or equal evidence for both. The lead preponderancy on one fide inclines the judgment in proportion. BeHef is mixed with doubt, more or lefs, until we come to the higheft degree of evidence, when all doubt vanilhes, and the beUef is' firm and immoveable. This degree of evidence, the higheft the human faculties can attain, we call certainty. Probable evidence not only differs in kind from demonftrative, but is itfelf of different kinds. The chief of thefe I fhall mention, without pretending to make a complete enume- ration. The firfl kind is that of human teflimony, upon which the greateft part of human know- ledge is built. The faith of hiftory depends upon it, as well as the judgment of folemn tribunals, with regard to mens acquired rights, and with re- gard to their guilt or innocence when they are charged with crimes. A great part of the bu- fmefs of the Judge, of Counfel at the bar, of the Hiflorian, the Critic, and the Antiquari- an, is to canvafs and weigh this kind of evi- dence ; and no man can aft with common prudence in the ordinary occurrences of life, who has not fome competent judgment of it. The belief we give to teftimony in many ca- fes is not folely grounded upon the veracity of the teflifier. In a fingle teftimony, we confi- der 398 ESSAY VIT. CHAP, der the motives a man might have to falfify. ^ If there be no appearance of any fuch motive, much more if there be motives on the other fide, his teftimony has weight independent of his moral charafter. If the teftimony be cir- cumftantial, we confider how far the circum- ftances agree together, and with things that are known. It is fo very difficult to fabricate a ftory, which cannot be detected by a judici- ous examination of the circumftances, that it acquires evidence, by being able to bear fuch a trial. There is an art in detecting falfe evi- dence in judicial proceedings, well known to able judges and barrifters ; fo that I believe few falfe witnelfes leave the bar without fufpi- cion of their guilt. When there is an agreement of many wit- nefles, in a great variety of circumftances, without the poflibility of a previous concert, the evidence may be equal to that of demon- ftration. A fecond kind of probable evidence, is the authority of thofe who are good judges of the point in queftion. The fupreme court of ju- dicature of the Britiih nation, is often deter- mined by the opinion of lawyers in a point of law, of phyficians in a point of medicine, and of other artifts, in what relates to their feveral profeflions. And, in the common affairs of life, we frequently rely upon the judgment of others, in points of which we are not proper judges ourfelves. A third kind of probable evidence, is that by which we recognife the identity of things, and perfons of our acquaintance : That two fwords, two horfes, or two perfons, may be fo perfedly alike, as not to be diftinguifhable by OF PROBABLE REASONING. 399 by thofe to whom they are beft known, cannot CHAP, be fhown to be impoflible. But we learn either ^^^' from nature, or from experience, that it never *— "V"' happens ; or fo very rarely, that a perfon or thing, well known to us, is immediately re- cognifed without any doubt, when we per- ceive the marks or figns by which we were in ufe to diftinguifh it from all other individuals of the kind. This evidence we rely upon in the mod im- portant affairs of life ; and, by this evidence, the identity, both of things and of perfons, is determined in courts of judicature. A fourth kind of probable evidence, is that which we have of mens future adions and conduft, from the general principles of adiion in man, or from our knowledge of the indi- viduals. Notwithflanding the folly and vice that is to be found among men, there is a certain de- gree of prudence and probity which we rely upon in every man that is not infane. If it were not fo, no man would be fafe in the com- pany of another, and there could be no fociety among mankind. If men were as much dif- pofed to hurt as to do good, to lie as to fpeak truth, they could not live together; they would keep at as great diftance from one another as poflible, and the race would foon perifh. We exped that men will take fome care of themfelves, of their family, friends, and re- putation: That they will not injure others without fome temptation: That they will have fome gratitude for good offices, and fome re- fentment of injuries. Such maxims with regard to human con- duct are the foundation of all political reafon- 400 .ESSAY Vir. CH A P. ing, and of common prudence in the conduct ^^^j^ of life. Hardly can a man form any projedt in public or in private life, which does not de- pend upon the condud of other men, as well as hivS own, and which does not go upon the fuppoution that men will a6t fuch a part in fuch circumiliances. This evidence may be pro- bable in a very high degree, but can never be demonftrative. The bed concerted projedl may fail, and wife counfels may be frullrated, becaufe fome individual ad:ed a part which it would have been againil all reafon to expect. Another kind of probable evidence, the counterpart of the lall, is that by which we collect mens charaders and defigns from their adions, fpeech, and other external figns. We fee not mens hearts, nor the principles by which they are actuated ; but there are ex- ternal figns of their principles and difpofitions, which, though not certain, may fometimes be more trufted than their profeffions ; and it i^* from external figns that we mud draw all the knowledge we can attain of mens characters. The next kind of probable evidence I men- tion, is that which Mathematicians call the probability of chances. We attribute fome events to chance, becaufe we know only the remote caufe which mufb produce fome one event of a number ; but know not the more immediate caufe which determines a particular event of that number in preference to the others. I think all the chances about which we rea- fon in mathematics are of this kind. Thus, in throwing a jufl die upon a table, we fay it is an equal chance which of the fix fides Ihall be turned up j becaufe neither the perfon who throws. OF PROBABLE REASONING. 401 throws, nor the byftanders know the precife C H A P., meafure of force and diredlon neceflary to ^J^]^ turn up any one fide rather than another. There are here therefore fix events, One of which muft happen ; and as all are fuppofed to have equal probability, the probability of any one fide being turned up, the ace, for in- ftance, is as one to the remaining number five. The probability of turning up two aces with two dice is as one to thirty-five ; becaufe here there are thirty-fix events, each of which has equal probability. Upon fuch principles as thefe, the doctrine of chances has furnifhed a field of demonftra- tive reafoning of great extent, although the events about which this reafoning is employed be not neceffary, but contingent, and be not certain, but probable. This may feem to contradifl: a principle be- fore advanced, that contingent truths are not capable of demonftration ; but it does not : For, in the mathematical reafonings about chance, the conclufion demonflrated, is not, that fuch an event fhall happen, but that the probabiHty of its happening bears fuch a ratio to the probability of its faihng ; and this con- clufion is neceffary upon the fuppofitions on which it is grounded. The laft: kind of probable evidence I fliall mention, is that by which the known laws cf Nature have been difcovered, and the effefts which have been produced by them in former ages, or which may be expeded in time to come. The laws of Nature are the rules by which the Supreme Being governs the world. We Vol. II. D d deduce 402 ESSAY VII. CHAP, deduce them only from fads that fall within our own obfervation, or are properly attefted by thofe who have obferved them. The knowledge of fome of the laws of Na- ture is neceffary to all men in the conduft of life. Thefe are foon difcovered even by fa- vages. They know that fire burns, that water drowns, that bodies gravitate towards the earth. They know that day and night, fum- mer and winter, regularly fucceed each other. As far back as their experience and informa- tion reach, they know that thefe have hap- pened regularly ; and, upon this ground, they are led, by the conftitution of human nature, to expeft that they will happen in time to come, in like circumftances. The knowledge which the Philofopher at- tains of the laws of Nature differs from that of the vulgar, not in the firfl; principles on which it is grounded, but in its extent and ac- curacy. He collects with care the phaenomena that lead to the fame conclufion, and compares them with thofe that feem to contradict or to limit it. He obferves the circumftances on which every ph^enomenon depends, and diflin- guiflies them carefully from thofe that are ac- cidentally conjoined with it. He puts natural bodies in various fituations, and applies them to one another in various ways, on purpofe to obferve the effeft ; and thus acquires from his fenfes a more extenfive knowledge of the courfe of Nature in a fliort time, than could be collefted by cafual obfervation in many ages. But what is the refult of his laborious re- fearches ? It is, that, as fj^r as he has been able to obferve, fuch things have always happened in fuch circumllances, ^nd fuch bodies have always OF PROBABLE REASONING. 403 always been found to have fuch properties. ^^ P* Thefe are matters of fa£t, attefted by fenfe, memory and teftimony, jufl as the few fadts which the vulgar know are attefted to them. And what conclufions does the Philofopher draw from the fafts he has coUefted? They are, that like events have happened in former times in like circumftances, and will happen in time to come; and thefe conclufions are built on the very fame ground on which the fimple ruftic concludes that the fun will rife to-mor- row. Fa6ls reduced to general rules, and the con- fequences of thofe general rules, are all that we really know of the material world. And the evidence that fuch general rules have no exceptions, as well as the evidence that they will be the fame in time to come as they have been in time paft, can never be demonftrative. It is only that fpecies of evidence which Philo- fophers call probable. General rules may have exceptions or limitations which no man ever had occafion to obferve. The laws of Nature may be changed by him who eftablifhed them. But we are led by our conftitution to rely upon their continuance with as little doubt as if it was demonftrable. I pretend not to have made a complete enu- meration of all the kinds of probable evidence; but thofe I have mentioned are fufficient to fhow, that the far greateft part, and the moft interefting part of our knowledge, muft reft upon evidence of this kind; and that many things are certain for which we have only that kind of evidence which Philofophers call pro- bable. D d 2 CHAP. 404 ESSAY VIL CHAP. IV. "-^^^^ CHAP. IV. Of Mr. HuME*s Scepticifm with regard t& Reafo?i. N the Treatife of Human Nature, book. i. part 4. fed. i. the author undertakes to prove two points: Firji, That all that is called human knowledge (meaning demonftrative knowledge) is only probability; and, fecondly. That this probability, when duly examined, evanifhes by degrees, and leaves at lafl no evi- dence at all : So that, in the ilTue, there is no ground to believe any one proportion rather than its contrary > and '* all thofe are certainly " fools who reafon or believe any thing.'* According to this account, reafon, that boafted prerogative of man, and the Hght of his mind, is an ignis fatims^ which milleads the wandering traveller, and leaves him at lafl in abfolute darknefs. How unhappy is the condition of man, born under a neceffity of believing contradidions, and of trufling to a guide who confeffes herfelf to be a falfe one ! It is fome comfort, that this do£lrine can ne- ver be ferioufly adopted by any man in his fenfes. And after this author had fhown that " all the rules of logic require a total extindion " of all beUef and evidence," he himfelf, and all men that are not infane, mufi have behevcd many things, and yielded affent to the evidence which he had extinguilhed. This indeed he is fo candid as to acknow- ledge. " He finds himleif abfolutely and ne- " ceflarily Of Mr. Hume'j Scepficifm about Reafon. 405 " cefifarily determined, to live and talk and CHAP. " a£t like other people in the common affairs ^^• " of life. And fince reafon is incapable of '^"~'^^' *' difpelling thefe clouds, mod fortunately it *' happens, that Nature herfelf fufEces to that '* purpofe, and cures him of this philofophical ** melancholy and dehrium." See fe<51:. 7. This was furely a very kind and friendly interpofition of Nature ; for the effeds of this philofophical delirium, if carried into life, mufl have been very melancholy. But what pity is it, that Nature (whatever is meant by that perfonage), fo kind in curing this delirium, fhould be fo cruel as to caufe it. Doth the fame fountain fend forth fweet waters and bitter? Is it not more probable, that if the cure was the work of Nature, the diieafe came from another hand, and was the work of the Philofopher? To pretend to prove by reafoning that there is no force in reafon, does indeed look like a philofophical delirium. It is like a man's pre- tending to fee clearly, that he himfelf and all other men are blind. A common fympton of delirium is, to think that all other men arc fools or mad. This ap- pears to have been the cafe of our author, who concluded, " That all thole are certainly fools " who reafon or believe any thing.'* Whatever was the caufe of this delirium, it mufl be granted, that if it was real and not feigned, it was not to be cured by reafoning : For what can be more abfurd than to at- tempt to convince a man by reafoning who difowns the authority of reafon. It was there- fore very fortunate that Nature found other means of curing it. If 4o6 ESSAY VII. It may, however, not be improper to en- quire, whether, as the author thinks, it was produced by a juft application of the rules of logic, or, as others may be apt to think, by the mifapplication and abufe of them. Tirji^ Becaufe we are fallible, the author in- fers that all knowledge degenerates into pro- babihty. That man, and probably every created be- ing, is fallible; and that a fallible being can- not have that perfeQ: comprehenfion and affu- rance of truth which an infallible being has, I think ought to be granted. It becomes a fallible being to be modefl, open to new light, and fenfible, that by fome falfe bias, or by rafh judging, he may be mifled. If this be called a degree of fcepticifm, I cannot help approving of it, being perfuaded, that the man who makes the belt ufe he can of the faculties which God has given him, without thinking them more perfe£l than they really are, may have all the belief that is neceffarv in the con- J dud of life, and all that is neceflary to his ac«- ceptance with his Maker. It is granted then, that human judgments ought always to be formed with an humble fenfe of our fallibility in judging. This is all that can be inferred by the rules of logic from our being fallible. And if this be all that is meant by our knowledge degene- rating into probability, I know no perfon of a different opinion. But it may be obferved, that the author here ufes the word probability in a fenfe for which I know no authority but his own. Philo- fophers underftand probability as oppofed to deraonflrationj the vulgar as oppofed to cer- tainty j Of Mr, Hume's Scept'icifm about Reafon, 407 tainty; but this author underftands itasop-CHAP. pofed to infallibiUty, which no man claims. ^^' One who believes himfelf to be fallible ' may ftill hold it to be certain that two and two mrke four, and that two contradidory pro- pofitions cannot both be true. He may be- lieve fome things to be probable only, and other things to be demonftrable, without mak- ing any pretence to infallibility. If we ufe words in their proper meaning, it is impoffible that demonftration (liould de- generate into probabiUty from the imperfedi- on of our faculties. Our judgment cannot change the nature of the things about which we judge. What is really demonftration, will ftill be fo, whatever judgment we form con- cerning it. It may likewife be obferved, that when we miftake that for demonftration, which really is not, the confequence of this miftake is, not that demonftration degenerates into probability, but that what we took to be demonftration is no proof at all ; for one falfe ftep in a demonftration deftroys the whole, but cannot turn it into another kind of proof. Upon the whole, then, this firft conclufion of our author. That the fallibility of human judgment turns all knowledge into probability, if underftood literally, is abfurd; but if it be only a figure of fpeech, and means no more, but that, in all our judgments, we ought to be fenfible of our fallibility, and ought to hold our opinions with that modefty that be- comes fallible creatures, which I take to be what the author meant, this, I think, nobody denies, nor was it neceflary to enter into a la- borious proof of it. 0»c 4o8 ESSAY VII. CHAP. One is never in greater danger of tranfgref- ^^- fing againft the rules of logic, than in attempt- "^ ing to prove what needs no proof. Of this we have an inflance in this very cafe : For the author begins his proof, that all human judg- ments are fallible, with affirming that fome are infallible. " In all demonftrative fciences, fays he, " the rules are certain and infallible ; but " when we apply them, our fallible and un- *' certain faculties are very apt to depart from " them, and fall into error." He had forgot, furely, that the rules of de- monftrative fciences are diicovered by our fal- lible and uncertain faculties, and have no au- thority but that of human judgment. If they be infallible, fome human judgments are infal- lible ; and there are many in various branches of human knowledge which have as good a claim to infallibility as the rules of the demon- ftrative fciences. We have reafon here to find fault with our author for not being fceptical enough, as well as for a miftake in reafoning, when he claims infallibility to certain decifions of the human faculties, in order to prove that all their deci- fions are fallible. The fecond point which he attempts to prove, is, That this probability, when duly examin- ed, fuffers a continual diminution, and at laft a total extinftion. The obvious confequence of this is, that no fallible being can havfc good reafon to believe any thing at all ; but let us hear the proof. '* In every judgment, we ought to correQ: the f firft judgment derived from the nature of *' the objeft, by another judgment derived " from Of Mr, HuME*j Scepticifm about Rcafon^ 409 *' from the nature of the underftandlne:. Be-C HAP. " fide the original uncertainty inherent in the * " fubjeft, there arifes another, derived from ^ *' the weaknefs of the faculty which judges. " Having adjufted thefe two uncertainties to- " gether, we are obliged, by our reafon, to " add a new uncertainty, derived from the " pofhbility of error in the eflimation we make " of the truth and fidelity of our faculties. *' This is a doubt, of which, if we would *' clofely purfue our reafoning, we cannot " avoid giving a decifion. But this decifion, *' though it fliould be favourable to our pre- " ceding judgment, being founded only on *' probability, mult weaken ftill farther our " firft evidence. The third uncertainty mult *' in like manner be criticifed by a fourth, *' and fo on without end. *' Now, as every one of thefe uncertainties *' takes away a part of the original evidence, *' it muft at laft be reduced to nothing. Let *' our firft belief be ever fo ftrong, it muft in- " fallibly perifh, by paffing through fo many *' examinations, each of which carries off *' fomewhat of its force and vigour. No fi- " nite objedt can fubfift under a decreafe re- " peated in infinitum, " When I refledl on the natural fallibility " of my judgment, I have lefs confidence in '* my opinions, than when I only confider the *' objedts concerning which I reafon. And " when I proceed ftill farther, to turn the " fcrutiny againft every fucceflive eftimation *' I make of my faculties, all the rules of logic " require a continual diminution, and at laft *' a total extinction of belief and evidence.'* This 4IO ESSAY VII. CHAP. This is the author's Achillean argument ^^ ^ againft the evidence of reafon, from which he concludes, that a man who would govern his belief by reafon, muft believe nothing at all, and that belief is an aft, not of the cogitative, but of the fenfitive part of our nature. If there be any fuch thing as motion, (faid an antient Sceptic) the fwift-footed Achilles could never overtake an old man in a journey. For, fuppofe the old man to fet out a thoufand paces before AcHir>LEs, and that while Achilles has travelled the thoufand paces, the old man has gone five hundred ; when Achilles has gone the five hundred, the old man has gone two hundred and fifty ; and when Achilles has gone the two hundred and fifty, the old man is ftill one hundred and twenty-five before him. Repeat thefe eftima- tions hi ifi/initum, and you will ftill find the old man foremoft ; therefore Achilles can never overtake him ; therefore there can be no fuch thing as motion. The reafoning of the modern Sceptic againft reafon is equally ingenious, and equally con- vincing. Indeed, they have a great fimilari- If we trace the journey of Achilles two thoufand paces, we ftiall find the very point where the old man is overtaken : But this fliort journey, by dividing it into an infinite number of ftages, with correfponding eftima- tions, is made to appear infinite. In like manner, our author, fubjefting every judg- ment to an infinite number of fucceffive proba- ble eftimations, reduces the evidence to no- thing. To Of Mr. Hume's Scepticifni about Reafon. 4^1 To return then to the argument of the mo-^ dern Sceptic. I examine the proof of a theo- rem of Euclid. It appears to me to be flrid: demonflration. But I may have overlooked fome fallacy ; therefore I examine it again and again, but can find no flaw in it. I find all that have examined it agree with me. I have now that evidence of the truth of the propofi- tion, which I and all men call demonflration, and that belief of it, which we call certainty. Here my fceptical friend interpofes, and af- fures me, that the rules of logic reduce this de- monflration to no evidence at all. I am wil- ling to liear yvhat flep in it bethinks fallacious, and why. He niakes no objeftion to any part of the demonfhration, but pleads my fallibility in judging. 1 have made the proper allowance for this already, by being open to convidion. But, fays he, there are two uncertainties, the firfl inherent in the fubjed, which I have al- ready fhown to have only probable evidence ; the fecond arifmg from the weaknefs of the fa- culty that judges. I anfwer. It is the weak- nefs of the faculty only that reduces this de- monftration to what you call probability. You mufl not therefore make it a fecond uncer- tainty ; for it is the fame with the firfl. To take credit twice in an account for the fame article is not agreeable to the rules of logic. Hitherto therefore there is but one uncertain- ty, to wit, my faUibility in judging. But, fays my friend, you are obliged by reafon to add a new uncertainty, derived from the pofTibility of error in the eflimation you make of the truth and fidelity of your facul- ties. I anfwer, This 412 ESSAY VII. CHAP. This eftimation is ambiguoufly expreflfed ; ^^' it may either mean an eftimation of my liable- nefs to err by the mifapplication and abufe of my faculties ; or it may mean an eftimation of my liablenefs to err, by conceiving my facul- ties to be true and faithful, while they may be falfe and fallacious in themfelves, even virhen applied in the beft manner. I fhall confider this eftimation in each of thefe fenfes. If the firft be the eftimation meant, it is true that reafon direds us, as faUible creatures, to carry along with us, in all our judgments, a fenfe of our fallibility. It is true alfo, that we are in greater danger of erring in fome cafes, and lefs in others ; and that this danger of er- ring may, according to the circumftances of the cafe, admit of an eftimation, which we ought likewife to carry along with us in every judgment we form. When a demonft ration is ftiort and plain; when the point to be proved does not touch our intereft or our paftions ; when the faculty of judging, in fuch cafes, has acquired ftrength by much exercife, there is lefs danger of er- ring ; when the contrary circumftances take place, there is more. In the prefent cafe, every circumftance is favourable to the judgment I have formed. There cannot be lefs danger of erring in any cafe, excepting perhaps when I judge of a felf- evident axiom. The Sceptic farther urges, that this decift- on, though favourable to my firft judgment, being founded only on probability, muft ftill weaken the evidence of that judgment. Here I cannot help being of a quite contrary opinion, nor can I imagine how an ingenious author Of Mr. Hume'j Scepticif/n about Reafon. 41^ author could impofe upon himfelf fo grofsly, CHAP, for furely he did not intend to impofe upon his ^ ^• reader. ' ""^"^ After repeated examination of a propofition of Euclid, I judge it to be ftridly demonftra- ted ; this is my firfl; judgment. But as I am liable to err from various caufes, I confider how far I may have been mifled by any of thcfe caufes in this judgment. My decifion upon this fecond point is favourable to my firll judg- ment, and therefore as I apprehend, mufl: ftrengthen it. To fay, that this decifion, be- caufe it is only probable, mufl: weaken the firfl: evidence, feems to me contrary to all rules of logic, and to common fenfe. The firfl: judgment may be compared to the tefl:imony of a credible witnefs ; the fecond, after a fcrutiny into the character of the vrit- nefs, wipes off every objedlion that can be made to it, and therefore furely mufl confirm and not weaken his teflimony. But let us fuppofe, that, in another cafe, I examine my firfl judgment upon fome point, and find, that it was attended with unfavoura- ble circumftances, what, in reafon, and ac- cording to the rules of logic, ought to be the effe£l of this difcovery ? The effect furely will be, and ought to be, to make me lefs confident in my firfl judgment, until I examine the point anew in more fa- vourable circumftances. If it be a matter of im- portance I return to weigh the evidence of my firfl judgment. If it was precipitate before, it mufl now be deliberate in every point. If at firfl: I was in pafhon, I mufl: now be cool. If I had an interefl: in the decifion, I mufl place the interefl: on the other lide. It 414 ESSAY VII. It is evident, that this review of the fabjed: may confirm my firft judgment, notwithftand- ing the fufpicious circumftances that attended it. Though the judge was biafled or corrupted, it does not follow, that the fentence was un- juft. The reftitude of the decifion does not depend upon the charafter of the judge, but upon the nature of the cafe. From that only, it muft be determined whether the decifion be juft. The circumftances that rendered it fuf- picious are mere prefumptions, which have no force againfl; direft evidence. Thus, I have confidered the effed of this eftimation of our liablenefs to err in our firfl judgment, and have allowed to it all the effed that reafon and the rules of logic permit. In the cafe I firil fupppofed, and in every cafe where we can difcover no caufe of error, it affords a prefumption in favour of the firft judgment. In other cafes, it may afford a pre- fumption againft it. But the rules of logic re- quire, that we fhould not judge by prefump- tions, where we have direft evidence. The cffed of an unfavourable prefumption fliould only be, to make us examine the evidence with the greater care. The Sceptic urges, in the laft place, that this eftimation muft be fubjedled to another eftimation, that to another, and fo on in infi- jiitinn ; and as every new eftimation takes away from the evidence of the firft judgment, it muft at laft be totally annihilated. I anfwer, firji^ it has been fhown above, that the firft eftimation, fuppofing it unfa- vourable, can only afford a prefumption againft the firft judgment ; the fecond, upon the fame fuppofition, will be only the prefumption of a prefump- I Of Mr. HuME*s Scepticifm about Reafon. 415 /' prefumption ; and the third, the prefumption C H A P. that there is a prefumption of a prefumption. ^V- This infinite feries of prefumptions refembles an infinite feries of quantities decreafmg in geometrical proportion, which amounts only to a finite fum. The infinite feries of (lages of AcHiLLEs's journey after the old man, amounts only to two thoufand paces ; nor can this infinite feries of prefumptions, outweigh one folid argument in favour of the firft judg- ment, fuppofing them all to be unfavourable to it. Secondly, I have fhown, that the efi:imation of our firll judgment may ftrengthen it ; and the fame thing may be faid of all the fubfequent eftimations. It v/ould, therefore, be as rea- fonable to conclude, that the firft judgment will be brought to infallible certainty when this feries of eftimations is wholly in its favour, as that its evidence will be brought to nothing by fuch a feries fuppofed to be wholly unfavoura- ble to it. But, in reality, one ferious and cool re-examination of the evidence by which our firft judgment is fupported, has, and, in reafon, ought to have more force to ftrengthen or weaken it, than an infinite feries of fuch eftimations as our author requires. Thirdly, I know no reafon nor rule in logic, that requires that fuch a feries of eftimations ftiould follow every particular judgment. A wife man who has pradifed reafoning knows that he is fallible, and carries this con- viction along with him in every judgment he forms. He knows likewife that he is more liable to err in fome cafes than in others. He has a fcalc in his mind, by which he eftimates his liablenefs to err, and by this he regulates the 41 6 ESSAY VII. CHAP, the degree of his affent in his firfl judgment upon aiiy point. ^'"^'^^^ The author's reafoning fuppofes that a man, when he forms his firft judgment, conceives himfelf to be infallible ; that by a fecond and fubfequent judgment, he difcovers that he is not infallible ; and that by a third judgment, fubfequent to the fecond, he eftimates his lia- bienefs to err in fuch a cafe as the prefent. If the man proceed in this order, I grant, that his fecond judgment will, with good rea- fon, bring down the firfl from fuppofed infalli- bility to fallibility ; and that his third judgment will, in fome degree, either flrengthen or weaken the firft, as it is correfted by the fecond. But every man of underfliandlng proceeds in a contrary order. When about to judge in any particular point, he knows already that he is not infallible. He knows what are the cafes in which he is moft or leaft liable to err. The conviction of thefe things is always prefent to his mind, and influences the degree of his aflent in his firft judgment, as far as to him appears reafonable. If he fliould afterwards find reafon to fufpeft his firft judgment, and defires to have all the fatisfaftion his faculties can give, reafon will dired him not to form fuch a feries of eftima- tions upon eftimations, as this author requires, but to examine the evidence of his firft judg- ment carefully and coolly ; and this review may very reafonably, according to its refult, either ftrengthen or weaken, or totally over- turn his firft judgment. This infinite feries of eftlm.ations, therefore, is not the method that reafon direds in order to Of Mr. HuME^s Scepticifm about Reafon, 417 to form our judgment in any cafe. It is intro-C HAP. duced without neceflity, without any ufe but ^^' to puzzle the underflanding, and to make us think, that to judge, even in the fimplefl and plainefl: cafes, is a matter of infurmountable difficulty and endlefs labour; jufl as the anci- ent Sceptic, to make a journey of two thoufand paces appear endlefs, divided it into an infinite number of ftages. But we obferved, that the eflimation which our author requires may admit of another meaning, which indeed is more agreeable to the expreffion, but inconfnlent with what he advanced before. By the poffibility of error in the e.limation of the truth and fidelity of our faculties, may be meant, that we may err by efteeming our faculties true and faithful, while they may be falfe and fallacious, even when ufed according to the rules of reafon and logic. If this be meant, I anfwer, _/r/?, That the truth and fidelity of our faculty of judging is, and muft be taken for granted in every judg- ment and in every eflimation. If the Sceptic can ferioufly doubt of the truth and fidelity of his faculty of judging when properly ufed, and fufpend his judgment upon that point till he finds proof, his fcepti- cifm admits of no cure by reafoning, and he muft even continue in it until he have new faculties given him, which fliall have authority to fit in judgment upon the old. Nor is there any need of an endlefs fucceffion of doubts upon this fubjeft, for the fir ft puts an end to all judgment and reafoning, and to the poffibi- lity of conviction by that means. The Sceptic has here got poffeflion of a ftrcng hold which Vol. II. E e is 41 8 ESSAY VII. is impregDable to reafoning, and we muft leave him in pofleffion of it, till Nature, by other means, makes him give it up. Secondly^ I obferve, that this ground of fcepticifm, from the fuppofed infidelity of our faculties, contradifts what the author before advanced in this very argument, to wit, that " the rules of the demonflrative fciences are " certain and infallible, and that truth is the " natural efl'ecl of reafon, and that error arifes " from the irruption of other caufes." But perhaps he made thefe conceflions un- warily. He is therefore at liberty to retract them, and to reft his fcepticifm upon this folc foundation. That no reafoning can prove the truth and fidelity of our faculties. Here he ftands upon firm ground : For it is evident, that every argument offered to prove the truth and fidelity of our faculties, takes for granted the thing in queflion, and is therefore that kind of lophifm, which Logicians call petitia principii. All we would aik of this kind of Sceptic iss that he would be uniform and confiftent, and that his practice in life do not belie his pro- feffion of Scepticifm with regard to the fidelity of his faculties : For the want of faith, as well as faith itfelf,. is bed fliown by works. If a Sceptic avoid the fire as much as thofe who believe it dangerous to go into it, we can hardly avoid thinking his fcepticifm to be feigned ,and not real. Ou-r author indeed was aware, that neither his fcepticifm, nor that of any other perfon, was able to endure this trial, and therefore enters a caveat againit it. " Neither I, fays "" he, nor any other perfon, was ever fincerely *' and Of Mr. Hume's Sceptid/?n about Reafon, 419 " and conftantly of that opinion. Nature, CHAP. *' by an abfolute and uncontrollable neceffity, ^J.^^ *' has determined us to judge, as well as to " breathe and feel. My intention, therefore, *' fays he, in difplaying fo carefully the argu- " ments of that fantaftic fed, is only to make " the reader fenfible of the truth of my hypo- " thefis, that all our reafonings concerning *' caufes and cfteds, are derived from nothing " but cuflom, and that belief is more properly " an aft of the fenfitive than of the cogita- " tive part of our nature." We have before confidered the firft part of this hypothefis, Whether our reafoning about caufes be derived only from cuflom? The other part of the author's hypothefis here mentioned is darkly exprelTed, though the exprefTion feems to be ftudied, as it is put in Italics. It cannot furely mean that belief is not an a£l of thinking. It is not, therefore, the power of thinking that he calls the cogita- tive part of our nature. Neither can it be the- power of judging, for all belief implies judg- ment ; and to believe a proportion means the fame thing as to judge it to be true. It feems, therefore, to be the power of reafoning that he calls the cogitative part of our nature. If this be the meaning, I agree to it in part. The belief of firft principles is not an ad: of the reafoning power : For all reafoning muft be grounded upon them. We judge them to be true, and believe them without reafoning. But why this power of judging of firft princi- ples fhould be called the fenfitive part of our nature, I do not underftand. As our belief of firft principles is an a6l of pure judgment without reafoning j fo our be- E e 2 lief 42 o ESSAY VII. CHAP, lief of the conclufions drawn by reafoning ^^- from firft principles, may, I think, be called ^"^^^""^ an aft of the reafoning faculty. Upon the whole, I fee only two conclufions that can be fairly drawn from this profound and intricate reafoning againft reafon. The firft is, That we are fallible in all our judg- ments and in all our reafonings. The fecond. That the truth and fidelity of our faculties can never be proved by reafoning ; and therefore cur belief of it cannot be founded on reafoning. If thelaft be what the author calls his hypothe- fis, I fubfcribe to it, and think it not an hy- pothefis, but a manifeft truth ; though I con- ceive it to be very improperly expreffed, by faying that belief is more properly an aft of the fenfitive than of the cogitative part of our nature. ESSAY 421 nfiiiiriirwiiiiiiiiiiMr-ir~T i i -miiMiTMr— miwmiM^iBnmiiimw ESSAY VIII. O F T A S T E. CHAP. L Of Tq/ie in generah THAT power of the inind by which we are capable of difcerning and relifhing the beauties of Nature, and whatever is exceW lent in the fine arts, is called tq/ie. The external fenfe of tafte, by which we dif- tinguifh and relifh the various kinds of food, has given occafion to a metaphorical application of its name to this internal power of the mind, by which we perceive what is beautiful, and what is deformed or defective in the various objefts that we contemplate. Like the tafte of the palate, it relifhes fome things, is difgufted with others ; with regard to many, is indifferent or dubious, and is con- fiderably influenced by habit, by affociations, and by opinion. Thefe obvious analogies be- tween external and internal tafte, have led men, in all ages, and in all or moft poliflied languages, to give the name of the external fenfe to this power of difcerning what is beau- tiful with pleafure, and what is ugly and faulty ill its kind with difguft. In 422 ESSAY VIII. In treating of this as an intelledual power of the mind, I intend only to make fome obfer- vations, firfl on its nature, and then on its objects. I. In the external fenfe of tafte, we are led by reafon and reflexion to diilinguifh between the agreeable fenfation we feel, and the quality in the objeft which occafions it. Both have the fame name, and on that account are apt to be confounded by the vulgar, and even by Philofophers. The fenfation 1 feel when I tafte any fapid body is in my mind ; but there is a real quality in the body which is the caufe of this fenfation. Thefe two things have the fame name in language, not from any fimilitude in their nature, but becaufe the one is the fign of the other, and becaufe there is little occafion in common life to diftinguifh them. This was fully explained in treating of the fecondary qualities of bodies. The reafon of taking notice of it now is, that the internal power of tafte bears a great analogy in this refpe£t to the external. When a beautiful objeft is before us, we may diftinguifh the agreeable emotion it pro- duces in us, from the quality of the objeft which caufes that emotion. When I hear an air in mufic that pleafes me, I fay, it is fine, it is excellent. This excellence is not in me ; it is in the mufic. But the pleafure it gives is not in the mufic ; it is in me. Perhaps I cannot fay what it is in the tune that pleafes my ear, as I cannot fay what it is in a fapid body that pleafes my palate ; but there is a quality in the fapid body which pleafes my palate, and I call it a delicious tafte ; and there is a quality in the tune that pleafes my tafte, and I call it a fine or an excellent air. This OF TASTE IN GENERAL. 423 This ought the rather to be obferved, be-CH AP. caufe it is become a fafhion among modern ^' Philofophcrs, to refolvc all our perceptions into """^^ mere feelings or fenfatlons in the perfon that perceives, without any thing correfponding to thofe feelings in the external objeft. Accord- ing to thofe PhilofopherSj there is no heat in the fire, no tafle in a fapid body ; the tafte and the heat being only in the perfon that feels them. In like manner, there is no beauty in any objed whatfoever ; it is only a fenfation or feeling in the perfon that perceives it. The language and the common fenfe of mankind contradid: this theory. Even thofe who hold it, find themfelves obliged to ufe a language that contradids it. I had occafion to fhow, that there is no folid foundation for it when applied to the fecondary qualities of body ; and the fame arguments fhow equally, that It has no foUd foundation when applied to the beauty of objefts, or to any of thofe qua- lities that are perceived by a good tafle. But though fome of the qualities that pleafe a good tafle refemble the fecondary qualities of body, and therefore may be called occult qualities, as we only feel their effeft, and have no more knowledge of the caufe, but that it is fomething which is adapted by Nature to pro- duce that effe6l ; this is not always the cafe. Our judgment of beauty is in many cafes more enhghtened. A work of art may appear beautiful to the mofl ignorant, even to a child. It pleafes, but he knows not why. To one who underftands it perfedly, and perceives how every part is fitted with exaft judgment to its end, the beauty is not myflerious ; it is per- fedly comprehended ; and he knows wherein it confiflsj as well as how it affeds him. 2. Wc 424 ESSAY VIII. 2. We may obferve, that, though all the taftes we perceive by the palate are either agree- able or difagreeable, or indifferent ; yet, among thofe that are agreeable, there is great diverlity, not in degree only, but in kind. And as we have not generical names for all the different kinds of tafte, we diftinguifli them by the bodies in which they are found. In like manner, all the objefts of our inter- nal tafte are either beautiful, or difagreeable, or indifferent ; yet of beauty there is a great diverfity, not only of degree, but of kind ; The beauty of a demonftration, the beauty of a poem, the beauty of a palace, the beauty of apiece of mufic, the beauty of a fine woman, and many more that might be named, ^are different kinds of beauty ; and we have no names to diftinguifli them but the names of the different objeds to which they belong. As there is fuch diverfity in the kinds of beauty as well as in the degrees, we need not think it ftrange that Philofophers have gone in- to different fyftems in analyfing it, and enu- merating its fimple ingredients. They have made many juft obfervations on the fubjecl ; but, from the love of fimplicity, have reduced it to fewer principles than the nature of the thing will permit, having had in their eye fome particular kinds of beauty, while they over- looked others. There are moral beauties as well as natural ; beauties in the objects of fenfe, and in intel- lectual objects ; in the works of men, and in the works of God ; in things inanimate, in brute animals, and in rational beings ; in the conftitution of the body of man, and in the conftitution of his mind. There is no real excellence OF TASTE IN GENERAL. 425 excellence which has not its beauty to a difcern- CHAP, ing eye, when placed in a proper point of . ^• view ; and it is as difficult to enumerate the ingredients of beauty as the ingredients of real excellence. 3. The tafte of the palate may be accounted mofl juft and perfect, when we relifh the things that are fit for the nourilliment of the body, and are difgufted with things of a con- trary nature. The manifell intention of Na- ture in giving us this fenfe, is, that we may difcern what it is lit for us to eat and to drink, and what it is not. Brute animals are directed in the choice of their food merely by their tafte. Led by this guide, they chufe the food that Nature intended for them, and feldom make miftakes, unlefs they be pinched by hunger, or deceived by artificial compofi- tions. In infants like wife the tafte is com- monly found and uncorrupted, and of the fimple produdions of Nature they relifh the things that are mofl wholefome. In like manner, our internal tafte ought to be accounted moft jull and perfect, when we are pleafed with things that are mofl excellent in their kind, and difpleafed with the contrary. The intention of Nature is no lefs evident in this internal tafte than in the external. Every excellence has a real beauty and charm that makes it an agreeable objeft to thofe who have the faculty of difcerning its beauty ; and this faculty is what we call a good tafte. A man, who, by any diforder in his mental powers, or by bad habits, has contracted a rehfli for what has no real excellence, or what is deformed and defective, has a depra- ved t^fle, like one who finds a more agreeable relifh 426 ESSAY VIII. ^•^ CHAP, relifti in aflies or cinders than in the moft ^' wholefome food. As we muft acknowledge ' the tafte of the palate to be depraved in this cafe, there is the fame reafonto think the tafte of the mind depraved in the other. There is therefore a juft and rational tafte, and there is a depraved and corrupted tafte. For it is too evident, that, by bad education, bad habits, and wrong alfociations, men may acquire a relilh for naftinefs, for rudenefs, and ill breeding, and for many other deformi- ties. To fay that fuch a tafte is not vitiated, is no lefs abfurd than to fay, that the fickly girl who delights in eating charcoal and tobac- co-pipes, has as juft and natural a tafte as when fhe is in perfeifi: health. 4. The force of cuftom, of fancy, and of cafual affociations, is very great both upon the external and internal tafte. An Eikimaux can regale himfelf with a draught of whale-oil, and a Canadian can feaft upon .a dog. A Kamf- chatkadale lives upon putrid fi(h, and is fome- times reduced to eat the bark of trees. The tafte of rum, or of green tea, is at firft as nau- feous as that of ipecacuan, to fome perfons, who may be brought by ufe to rehfti what they once found fo difagreeable. When we fee fuch varieties in the tafte of the palate produced by cuftom and affociations, and fome perhaps by conliitution, we may be the lefs furprifed that the fame caufes fhould produce like varieties in the tafte of beauty ; that the African ftiould efteem thick lips and a flat nofe ; that other nations fhould draw out their ears, till they hang over their flioulders ; that in one nation ladies ftiould paint their faces, OF TASTE IN GENERAL. 427 faces, and in another Ihould make them (liineC H A P. with greafe. 5. Thofe who conceive that there is no flandard in nature by which tafte may be re- gulated, and that the common proverb. That there ought to be no difpute about tafle, is to be taken in the utmoft latitude, go upon flen- der and infufficient ground. The fame argu- ments might be ufed with equal force againfl any ftandard of truth.' Whole nations by the force of prejudice are brought to believe the groffefl: abfurdities ; and why fhould it be thought that the tafle is lefs capable of being perverted than the judgment? It muil indeed be acknowledged, that men differ more in the faculty of tafle than in what we commonly call judgment ; and therefore it may be expected that they fliould be more lia- ble to have their tafle corrupted in matters of beauty and deformity, than their judgment in matters of truth and error. If we make due allowance for this, wc (hall fee that it is as eafy to account for the variety of taftes, though there be in nature a flandard of true beauty, and confequently of good tafle ; as it is to account for the variety and contrari- ety of opinions, though there be in nature a ftandard of truth, and confequently of right judgment. 6. Nay, if we fpeak accurately and flriftly, we fhall find, that, in every operation of tafle, there is judgment implied. When a man pronounces a poem or a palace to be beautiful, he affirms fomething of that poem or that palace ; and every affirmation or denial expreffes judgment. For we cannot better define judgment, than by faying that it is 428 ESSAY VIIL C H A P. is an affirmation or denial of one thing con- ^' cerning another. I had occafion to fhow, ''^^ when treating of judgment, that it is implied in every perception of our external fenfes. There is an immediate conviftion and belief of the exiflence of the quality perceived, whether it be colour, or found, or figure ; and the fame thing holds in the perception of beauty or deformity. If it be faid that the perception of beauty is merely a feeling in the mind that perceives, without any belief of excellence in the objed, the necelfary confequence of this opinion is, that when 1 fay Virgil's Georgics is a beau- tiful poem, I mean not to fay any thing of the poem, but only fomething concerning myfelf and my feelings. Why fhould I ufe a language that expreifes the contrary of what I mean ? My language, according to the neceffary rules of conftruction, can bear no other mean- ing but this, that there is fomething in the poem, and not in me, which I call beauty. Even thefe who hold beauty to be merely a feeling in the perfon that perceives it, find themfelves under a neceffity of expreffing them- fclves, as if beauty were folely a quality of the objed, and not of the percipient. No reafon can be given why all mankind {hould exprefs themfelves thus, but that they believe what they fay. It is therefore contra- ry to the univerfal fenfe of mankind, exprelT- ed by their language, that beauty is not really in the objed, but is merely a feeling in the perfon who is faid to perceive it. Philofor phers fhould be very cautious in oppofing the common fenfe of mankind ; for, when they do, they rarely mifs going wrong. Our OF TASTE IN GENERAL. 429 Our judgment of beauty is not indeed a dry^ HAP. and unaffeding judgment, like that of a ma- ^' thematical or metaphyfical truth. By the con- ftitution of our nature, it is accompanied with an agreeable feeling or emotion, for which we have no other name but the fenfe of beauty. This fenfe of beauty, Hke the perceptions of our other fenfes, implies not only a feehng, but an opinion of fome quality in the object which occafions that feehng. In objects that pleafe the tafte, we always judge that there is fome real excellence, fome fuperiority to thofe that do not pleafe. In fome cafes, that fuperior excellence is diftinftly perceived, and can be pointed out ; in other cafes, we have only a general notion of fome excellence which we cannot defcribe. Beau- ties of the former kind may be compared to the primary qualities perceived by the external fenfes ; thofe of the latter kind, to the fecon- dary. 7. Beauty or deformity in an objeft, refults from its nature or flrudure. To perceive the beauty therefore, we muft perceive the nature or ftru£lure from which it refults. In this the internal fenfe differs from the external. Our external fenfes may difcover qualities which do not depend upon any antecedent perception. Thus I can hear the found of a bell, thoudt ad imos ; Et vera incefTu patuit Jca. lUe, ubi matrem Agnovit, ^c. A fecond obfervation is, That there can be no grace v.-ith impropriety, or that nothing can be graceiiil that is not adapted to the charader and fituation of the perfon. From thefe obfervations, which appear to meto bejuft, we may, I think, conclude, that grace, as far as it is vifible, confifls of thofe motions, either of the whole body, or of a part or feature, which exprefs the mod perfe£b pro- priety of condud and fentiment in an amiable character. Thofe motions muft be different in different characters j they aiufl vary with every variation of emotion and Lritiment ; they may exprefs cither dignity or refpett, confidence or referve, love or jufl refentment, efteem or indignation, zeal or indifference. Every pafTion, fentiment, or emotion, that in its nature and degree is juft and proper, and correfponds perfectly with the character of the perfon, and with the occa- fion, is what we may call the foul of grace. The body or vifible part confifts of thofe mo- tions and features which give the true and un- affected exprefTion of this foul. Thus, I think, all the ingredients of human beauty, as they are enumerated and defcribed by this ingenious author, terminate in expreffi- on : They either exprefs fome perfection of the body, as a part of the man, and an inflrument of the mind, or fome amiable quality or at- tribute of the mind itfelf. It 479 4So ESSAY VIII. CHAP. It cannot indeed be denied, that the exprefll- ^_^ 01^ of a fine countenance may be unnaturally disjoined fVoni the amiable qualities which it naturally exprefles : But we prefume the con- trary, till we have a clear evidence ; and even then, we pay homage to the expreffion, as we do to the throne when it happens to be unwor- thily filled. Whether what I have offered to (hew, that all the beauty of the objects of ienfe is borrow- ed, and derived from the beauties of mind which it exprefi'es or fuggefts to the imagina- tion, be well founded or not ; I hope this ter- reilrial Venus will not be deemed lefs worthy of the homage which has always been paid to her, by being conceived more nearly allied to the celelfial, than fne has commonly been re- prefented. To make an end of this fubjeft, tafle feems to be progreirive as man is. Children, when refrefned by fleep, and at eafe from pain and hunger, are difpofed to attend to the objefts about them ; they are pleafed with briUiant co- lours, gaudy ornaments, regular forms, cheer- ful countenances, noify mirth, and glee. Such is the tafte of childhood, which we m.uil con- clude to be given for wife purpofes. A great part of the happinefs of that period of life is derived from it ; and therefore it ought to be indulged. It leads them to attend to objeds which they may afterwards find worthy of their attention. It puts them upon exerting their . infant faculties of body and mind, which, by fuch exertions, are daily ftrengthened and improved. As they advance in years and in underftand- ing, other beauties attrad their attention, which by O F B E A U T Y* 481 by their novelty or fuperlority, throw a fhade ^ H^^^^ upon thofe they formerly admired. They de- light in feats of agility, flrength, and art ; they love thofe that excel in them, and ftrive to equal them. In the tales and fables they hear, they begin to difcern beauties of mind. Some charafters and a£lions appear lovely, others give difguft. The intellectual and mo- ral powers begin to open, and, if cherifhed by favourable circumftances, advance gradually in ftrength, till they arrive at that degreee of per- fection, to which human nature, in its prefent ftate, is limited. In our progrefs from infancy to maturity, our faculties open in a regular order appointed by Nature j the meaneft firfl ; thofe of more dignity in fucceflion, until the moral and ra- tional powers finifli the man. Every faculty furnilhcs new notions, brings new beauties into view, and enlarges the province of tafte ; fo that we may fay, there is a tafte of childhood, a tafte of youth, and a manly tafte. Each is beautiful in its feafon ; but not fo much fo, when carried beyond its feafon. Not that the man ought to dillike the things that pleafe the child, or the youth, but to put lefs value upon them, compared with other beauties, with \yhich he ought to be acquainted. Our moral and rational powers juftly claim dominion over the whole man. Even tafte is not exempted from their authority ; it muft be fubjed to that authority in every cafe wherein we pretend to reafon or difpute about matters of tafte ; it is the voice of reafon that our love or our admiration ought to be proportioned to the merit of the objedt. When it is not ground- ed on real worth, it muft be the effect of con- ftitution. 482 ESSAY VIII. CHAP, ftitutlon, or of fome habit or cafual aiTociatlon. ^^ ^ A fond mother may fee a beauty in her darling child, or a fond author in his work, to which the reft of the world are blind. In fuch cafes, the affeftion is pre-engaged, and, as it were, bribes the judgment, to make the objedt worthy of that affection. For the mind cannot be eafy in putting a value upon an objed beyond what it conceives to be due. When affedion is not carried away by fome natural or acquired bias, it naturally is and ought to be led by the judg- ment. As, in the divifion which I have followed of our intelledual powers, I mentioned moral per- ception and confcioufnefs, the reader may ex- pert that fome reafon fliould be given, why they are not treated of in this place. As to confcioufnefs ; what I think neceflary to be faid upon it has been already faid, Eflay 6. chap. 5. As to the faculty of moral per- ception, it is indeed a moft important part of human underftanding, and well worthy of the moft attentive confideration, fmce without it we could have no conception of right and wrong, of duty and moral obligation, and fmce the firft principles of morals, upon which all moral reafoning muft be grounded, are its immediate dictates ; but as it is an aftive as well as an intelleftual power, and has an im- mediate relation to the other aftive powers of the mind, I apprehend that it is proper to defer the confideration of it till thefe be explained. THE END. DATE DUE GAYLORO